The Frailty of Flesh (19 page)

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Authors: Sandra Ruttan

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction - Espionage, #Suspense, #Thriller, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Detective and mystery stories, #Legal stories, #Family Life, #Murder - Investigation, #Missing persons - Investigation

BOOK: The Frailty of Flesh
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“So this is all about you? This isn’t about how he’s a human being, capable of making mistakes, and it isn’t about the fact that maybe he messed up on the job. Either he didn’t, so he gets to still be perfect in your eyes, or he’s dirty and you’re a victim because your hero dad isn’t the man you thought he was. Either way it’s got nothing to do with this case or the victim or the guy who was convicted. This is all about you.”

He brushed past her and she turned and followed him to the hall. “So what now? You’re going to walk out again?”

Craig stopped. His hands were balled into fists at his side, and she could see the tension in his neck and shoulders. “I thought you’d understand.”

“I understand this is difficult for you, and that’s exactly why you should insist that Zidani reassign this to someone else. Stop looking at Steve as a cop who happens to be your father. Just let him be your dad.”

“It’s not that simple.” He walked up the stairs and she let him go. The problem was, she did understand. Craig didn’t just want his dad to be perfect; he needed to believe Steve was an honorable man. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about the kind of person Steve Daly was, but for Craig, it was so important that his fear of being disappointed overshadowed his faith in his father.

CHAPTER NINE

“Look, Daddy, look!” She giggled and then swung her arm for the next rail. The monkey bars, her favorite. Noelle’s dark eyes sparkled, and her smile showed off her dimples. “See, Daddy!” And then her hand slipped and she was falling, her arms reaching out as she called for him, but the earth had opened up beneath her and he could still hear the echo of her screams as she fell beyond his grasp, out of sight.

Tain sat upright. It took a minute for him to get his bearings and then he shut off the alarm clock and got out of bed.

Despite the early hour Ashlyn was already at her desk when he arrived, on the phone. The hollow cheeks and chalky skin was augmented by a look in her eyes that could only be described as despondent.

He sat down across from her, but she kept her gaze lowered. One by one, he went through the messages on his desk and the slips of paper he’d taken from his mailbox and threw them all in the garbage.

Ashlyn was still on the phone, but hadn’t said anything. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t looked up either. She had left a report on his desk with an update on all the dead ends she’d exhausted the day before. He started to look through it, images of Noelle swinging from the monkey bars burned in his mind. Half of him didn’t want to push the images away. They were all he had.

The words on the report blurred. It wasn’t just the memory now, but the sound of her laughter, teasing him with the lie that if he closed his eyes she’d be right there, so real he could touch her.

The smack of the handset hitting the receiver jolted him back to reality. Ashlyn’s head was propped up by her hands as she looked at some papers on her desk.

“No new leads?”

She shook her head. “You?”

“Nothing.” Tain stood up and grabbed his coat. “Come on.”

Ashlyn looked up but remained sitting. “Where are we going?”

“To follow up on a hunch.”

She walked to the car with him silently and offered no comment as he drove back to the park where Jeffrey had been murdered. He drove along Murray Street, to Ioco Road. Ioco Road was one of the main routes into the northern part of Port Moody. It led to the main shopping area, the adjoining roads that took thousands of tourists, hikers and movie crews to Buntzen Lake, and it also wound its way around the inlet, to where the Reimer family lived. That wasn’t the direction he followed.

On the other side of Ioco Road, Murray Street turned into Guildford. Just past Eagle Ridge Hospital, Guildford left Port Moody, entered Coquitlam, and eventually led right to the RCMP station.

Tain didn’t return to Coquitlam. Instead, he parked outside the hospital.

“This is where the anonymous 911 call was made from.”

A smile flickered on Ashlyn’s face as she rubbed her forehead and groaned. “All I was given was a street address on Guildford. I should have checked it myself.”

“Fits with the idea of Shannon being injured.”

She’d slumped back against the headrest, as though she was too tired to hold her head up, and she rolled it to the side just enough to look at him. “If we’re assuming she’s the one who made the call.”

Tain wasn’t sure who he thought had called 911, but if it was Shannon it opened up some interesting possibilities. The hospitals should have been checked in the initial canvas. He called Sims to find out who had handled Eagle Ridge, then hung up.

“Well?” Ashlyn asked.

“Sims says he sent two Port Moody police officers to check the hospital. No prizes for guessing who.” He made another call, then hung up. “Well?”

She undid her seat belt. “Let’s go have a chat with the staff.”

The emergency room was packed, indicative of the chronic problems health-care staff faced. Too much demand, not enough resources. The media railed about people dying in waiting rooms and all it did was sell papers and prompt politicians to make promises they broke right after the elections.

After showing ID to three nurses who barely glanced at them Ashlyn blocked a nurse’s path. “We really need to speak to someone who was treating patients Friday.”

The woman nodded at a doctor a few feet away, busy going through charts. “Dr. Hughes. He might be able to help.”

“Thanks.” She walked up to the doctor and showed him her ID. Dr. Hughes looked about fifty, still with a full head of hair that was speckled with gray, but enough lines around the eyes to know he’d seen his share of pain and suffering over the years. “I know you see a lot of faces here.” Ashlyn passed him a photo of Shannon.

“She was here on Friday,” he said.

“You treated her?”

He nodded. “And you know medical records are confidential.”

“Look, do you watch the news?” Tain asked. “Friday, a boy was beaten to death at Rocky Point Park.” He waited until the doctor nodded. “That girl is the older sister. We have reason to believe she’s another victim, and until now, we thought she might be dead. Can you at least confirm she’s still alive?”

“I’m not promising you that.” The doctor started walking down the hall, where there weren’t as many people. “Look, I treated her.”

“But?” Ashlyn prompted.

He drew a deep breath and glanced around before he spoke.

“I’d like to think she’s still alive…How was the boy killed? Internal injuries caused from a severe beating?”

“The blow to the back of his head killed him first,” Ashlyn said.

“And if it hadn’t, without proper treatment he would have died from the internal damage? Hell, even with proper treatment he might have died?”

Tain glanced at Ashlyn and nodded.

“Then there are no guarantees that girl is still alive.”

“But you let her walk out of here?” Ashlyn asked.

“I didn’t let her do anything. I left to consult with the staff about her case. We were waiting on X-rays, but I suspected we’d find a history of old injuries suggesting long-term abuse.”

“Why?”

The doctor nodded at a nurse scurrying by, then looked at Tain. “You ever pick up a kid you know is being beaten? You know that look. I see it in your eyes. Some stuff you can’t run from, can’t change. A lot of people who work here have to shut off from it because it’s too much. I used to work in Toronto. Patch them up, send them out until they get stabbed or shot again. Here, we just send them home and let them be used as punching bags, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”

“Look, I know you can’t give us her file,” Ashlyn said. “But we’ve been looking for her for days. If there’s anything you can tell us, unofficially, that might be helpful…” She shrugged.

“My suspicions were correct. And she hadn’t just been beaten. She’d been stabbed. When she came in, she had a pair of track pants wrapped around the wound, and she had the knife. I scolded her for pulling it out, but she said she hadn’t, just that when she’d grabbed the pants the knife was there.” He shook his head. “That was all she said. She wouldn’t tell me what happened. I left that room for ten minutes and she managed to sneak out.” He nodded down the hall, at the staff bustling from room to room, patients being wheeled down the hall for tests, X-rays, or to be taken to long-term care. “Hard to believe anyone can leave unnoticed around here.”

“Actually, that’s why it’s easy to get out. What’s one more person?” Tain said. “Look, I’m not trying to jump down your throat. You’re busy and you’re doing your best, but you never reported this?”

“When I came back there were two police officers talking to the nurses. Honestly, I thought that’s why they were here.”

Tain looked at Ashlyn and saw her jaw clench. “That’s why they were supposed to be here.” He passed the doctor his card. “Thanks. If you think of anything else…”

The doctor nodded. “Sure.”

Tain followed Ashlyn to the car. “How many donut shops can there be in Port Moody?” he asked.

“Not donuts. Starbucks.”

It was close, and when they arrived they could see the cop cars outside.

After he got out of the vehicle he leaned down and looked inside. “You coming?”

She paused. “I’m not sure I trust myself.”

“It’s up to you.”

Ashlyn undid her seat belt and followed him.

Parker was laughing with his partner, but when he saw Tain and Ashlyn he reached for his cup and drained whatever was left of his beverage. When he set it down he wasn’t smiling. “Time for us to go,” he said as he stood.

“Leaving so soon?” Tain asked.

Parker looked at Bennett, who stood and glanced at Ashlyn, then Tain, then settled on looking at the floor. “We’re a bit busy this morning,” Parker said.

“I can see that.”

Parker was sitting by the window, and Tain was standing directly in his path. Unless he wanted to crawl under the table Parker couldn’t get out without Tain moving. “Excuse me,” Parker said.

“Not so fast. The other day Constable Sims sent you to Eagle Ridge Hospital to do a routine check for Shannon Reimer.”

From the corner of his eye he could see Bennett look up. Parker’s scowl deepened. “So?”

“You learn anything helpful?”

“If we had we would have told you.”

“How hard did you look?”

“I did my job.”

“You checked on anyone without ID.”

Parker was standing nose to nose with Tain. “Nobody matching Shannon’s description was admitted.”

“What about anyone treated and released? Or being treated while you were there?”

“Get out of my way.”

“Or what? You’ll make me get out of your way?”

Parker pushed him, hard. Caught off guard, Tain bumped into Ashlyn, who grabbed his arm.

“I told you to move,” Parker said. “Next time, I won’t ask twice.”

Ashlyn let go of Tain and stepped forward to keep Parker from leaving. “He asked you a question.”

Parker sneered. “Listen, sweetie, I don’t answer to you either.” He looked her up and down. “You looked better the other day. He must be running you ragged.”

Ashlyn smacked Parker on the face so hard he twisted away from her. She used his momentum to grab his arm and pushed him facedown on the table. “I don’t like your insinuations, your attitude and I don’t like you, Parker. But on this case, I’m in charge. You had a job to do and you were asked a question. You either answer it, or I’m off to chat with your commanding officer.” She let go of him.

Parker’s face was as red as a Santa suit. He shoved Ashlyn into Tain, hard, and while Tain tried to steady himself and Ashlyn, Parker barreled past them to the door. His partner followed.

“You okay?” Tain asked.

“I will be after we see that son of a bitch’s boss.”

After Ashlyn had left the house, Craig had gone downstairs. He’d folded the blankets she’d left on the couch and set them with the spare pillow she’d used, made tea and pulled out the Harrington case folders.

Hours later, he had to admit that most of the loose ends of the case had been tied off nicely. Donny Lockridge’s fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. So were Lisa Harrington’s, but since it was her crowbar that was to be expected. Donny had legitimate access to the crowbar as well, his defense had countered. He had, after all, been the victim’s boyfriend and been hired by Lisa Harrington to do some work around the house and clean out the garage. His fingerprints were on all of the tools.

Donny and Hope had been seen arguing a few days before her murder.

And Donny’s alibi for the time of Hope’s murder had fallen through. He’d refused to provide another explanation for his whereabouts, raising suspicions he was involved.

The prosecution had established that Donny had access to the murder weapon. They’d also pointed out that Hope’s body had been moved from wherever she was murdered. The crime scene had never been found, and although Hope had been a slim, petite girl, it was still hard to believe her mother could have moved her alone.

The only other person with access to the blanket from Hope’s bed and the murder weapon was Hope’s younger sister, Destiny, and she’d only been six at the time.

Donny Lockridge had no alibi. Although no witnesses had seen him move the body, and there were no traces of DNA found in his vehicle, Donny had lost his temper on the stand. That fact, combined with his access to key physical evidence and Lisa’s testimony had been enough to persuade the jury.

A locket Hope always wore had never been recovered, and it was assumed it was lost at the actual crime scene.

The other thing Daly and Bicknell had never explained was the DNA found under Hope’s fingernails. It didn’t match Donny Lockridge, and it was clearly not from someone Hope Harrington was related to. The defense argued that it suggested someone other than Lockridge had killed Hope.

The prosecution had countered by pointing out the severity of the crime. It was personal, they argued. Hope played sports at school. She could have tripped and grabbed a friend, and accidentally cut them with a fingernail. Since the defense could not prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the DNA got on Hope during her murder, they couldn’t use it to exonerate their client.

Craig leaned back in his chair. It had been circumstantial, but it still sounded solid. He’d been through half the interview notes and found nothing to suggest there was another viable suspect. Lisa Harrington’s testimony had sealed Lockridge’s fate. According to her, Hope had decided to end their relationship just days before her murder. Donny had been angry and had hit Hope. Lisa thought he was just upset and that he’d get over it. She said she always thought Donny was a “good kid.”

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