The Frailty of Flesh (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

No course, no seminar, no self-help book filled with wise words and the best of intentions…Nothing prepared you to tell a parent their child was dead.
No parent should outlive their child.
It’s not the way things were meant to be, not as nature intended. Children were supposed to be the legacy. You could comfort yourself, knowing when you passed on you left a bit of yourself behind, knowing you wouldn’t immediately be forgotten.

Losing a child just wasn’t right.

Tain had heard it all. He understood it. Every time he prepared to speak with a parent it was right there, churning beneath the surface. Let the memories come and all the anguish would be back, fresh, threatening to overtake him, to push him over the edge into a bottomless pit of despair.

The grief was enough to make you feel as though your soul was being put through a shredder.

There were few things worse than telling a parent their child was dead. Tain didn’t just know that. He
knew
it. It wasn’t textbook head knowledge or practical knowledge from the experience of watching the fallout. For him, it went far deeper.

Mrs. Reimer, we regret to inform you your son is dead. Your four-year-old boy, the one with the dark curly hair and big brown eyes. They hit him on the torso and back of the head but didn’t mark his face. We all saw it, standing there, looking down at where he’d curled into a little ball, in the fetal position. He was still warm, the tiniest bit of pink in his cheeks. Put a blanket over him and it would have looked as though he was just sleeping, as though he’d just worn himself out playing and had curled up on the slip of pavement at the park to take a nap.

Just don’t look at the back of his head or the dark stain on the pavement and you could hold on to the idea that he would get up soon and run off to play. You could pretend someone hadn’t used him as a human piñata.

They couldn’t tell her all of that. And this time, telling a mother her son was dead might just be the easier part of their task. Mrs. Reimer would likely think her world was falling apart, that she had already heard the most unbearable news imaginable.

Under different circumstances that would be correct. A parent’s worst nightmare, until they managed to tell Jeffrey’s parents the rest.

That their daughter was a suspect in the murder. And that she was missing.

Tain looked up as his partner, Constable Ashlyn Hart, appeared in the door to the ladies’ washroom. She paused, lifted her hand to her forehead and stood still for a moment. No smile to light her face. Under the circumstances Tain wouldn’t have expected one, but there was something else in her expression…Hollow cheeks, pallid skin. He watched her rub her temple, her gaze fixed on some spot on the grass.

They had worked on tough cases together before. This wasn’t the first time they’d found themselves standing over the body of a child, but this time he’d seen the tears well up in her eyes for that split second. Then she’d swallowed it down, gotten on with the job, not even the hint of a tremor in her voice as she assumed control of the scene. That’s what he’d come to expect from Ashlyn. She felt it as deeply as anyone, but she was a professional.

Every now and again she had her moments, though, like anyone else. He didn’t blame her. If anything, he commended her for taking it off the field, making it a private moment instead of a public display. Now a raw look in her features hinted at a deeper pain.

And then it was gone.

He trawled through his memories of the past few weeks but couldn’t think of any indication that there were problems. Had he been so preoccupied with—

“Is it nice there?”

As his eyes focused on Ashlyn’s face, now a few feet from his own, he frowned. “What? Where?”

“The fantasyland you’re off in.”

“Cheaper than Disney World.”

Her tiny smile faded as she looked him straight in the eyes. “You okay?”

He bit back the words on the tip of his tongue and instead said, “Tough call.”

They knew each other well enough to read subtle changes in expression. The way her left eyebrow rose for a split second in conjunction with the downward turn of the corners of her mouth said it all. Then her lips formed a hard line.

“It is odd,” Tain said.

The distant stare was gone as she refocused on him. “I’m not overanalyzing?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Why would you even think that?”

She sighed as she pushed her dark hair back behind her left ear. “It isn’t like we can do anything about it…It just is, if that makes any sense.” She paused.

“It’s okay.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “You don’t mind?”

“Are you questioning me?” He waited half a second, then continued, “Look, they searched the area and didn’t find anything. It wasn’t until the officers were returning to report in that they saw him.” He knew she wanted him to run her through all the details of his interview with their witness. Other officers might take it personally, feel it was an attack on them, but he knew better. Ashlyn was reprocessing the details because something wasn’t sitting right with her. And she was trying to figure out what it was.

“They found him near the water?”

He nodded. “In the woods, down by the shore. I believe the word used was ‘skulking.’ ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“They couldn’t get anything from him. When they brought him to me I managed to get him to give me his name and address.”

“And you asked if he’d seen what happened.”

“He said yes. That’s it. So I asked if he recognized the attacker.”

“And again, he just said yes.” Ashlyn’s mouth twisted. Her hands were on her hips. The longer Tain worked with her, the quicker her instincts kicked in. This case was already bugging her, and her issues centered on their one witness.

Christopher Reimer.

But she hadn’t shared her thoughts with Tain. Not yet. He knew her well enough to know she’d voice them when she felt more confident about her conclusions. Around everyone else, other than Craig, she usually kept her musings concealed. He knew others who didn’t like partnering with someone who wouldn’t divulge their hunches, but Tain respected the fact that Ashlyn tried not to jump to conclusions. She was always processing information, turning the facts over in her mind, looking for the things that didn’t add up.

She was sharp. And cautious, and he respected both qualities.

“Ashlyn?”

She turned her gaze back to him. “And you asked the name.”

Tain nodded. “He said it was Shannon.”

“And you asked her last name…”

“Christopher didn’t volunteer a single word. He answered my questions directly, but with no additional information.”

Her mouth twisted again, that uncertain, uneasy look distorting her features.

“I know, it’s odd,” Tain said. “I’ve had more information offered up by members of organized crime gangs up on soft charges.”

“And Christopher Reimer is just a kid.”

“But it was his brother who was murdered.” A fact that raised another question in Tain’s mind, and he felt certain she was wondering the same thing. Once Christopher had identified the attacker as Shannon Reimer, his older sister, Tain had asked if he knew the victim. There had been no change in Christopher’s voice, no wavering, no hesitation, nothing. He’d said, “Jeffrey,” and then, just before Tain could ask, added, “Jeffrey Reimer.”

Christopher had removed a wallet from his pocket. Inside, ID confirmed his address, that he was just a few weeks short of his twelfth birthday, and there was a photo of three healthy kids, two of whom Tain could already identify.

Once Christopher had confirmed the girl in the photo was Shannon, Tain had given the photo to another officer with instructions to circulate her description and begin searching for her immediately.

He’d left Christopher with two Port Moody police officers. They were watching him until Tain and Ashlyn finished at the scene and were ready to take him home and notify the family. Under normal circumstances Tain would have liked to take Christopher to the station for questioning, but he was a child. Tain couldn’t sort out what he thought of the boy’s behavior. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wanted Ashlyn there when Christopher Reimer was questioned again.

“Shock?” Ashlyn asked.

Tain shrugged.

He watched as Ashlyn turned and walked along the sidewalk, toward the parking lot where two uniformed officers were waiting for them.

Tain kept pace beside her. He knew she could have covered the short distance in a matter of seconds. Instead, she seemed to be drawing it out, giving herself time to let her thoughts gel.

Two officers were waiting near the front right bumper of their patrol car. One stood, the other leaned back, butt on the edge of the hood of the cruiser, legs spread apart, arms folded across his chest. The back passenger side door was open, the tousled brown hair on top of the boy’s head barely visible.

The one leaning against the car, whose name was Parker, chomped on a piece of gum without dislodging the cocky grin. He had dark hair. From even the little gossip Tain heard he knew Parker considered himself a bit of a ladies’ man, and a lot of female police officers seemed to agree with that assessment.

Tain resisted the urge to smile when Ashlyn ignored him completely and addressed the other officer.

“How is he?”

“Uh…” The officer, whose name was Bennett, stood with his mouth open as he glanced at Parker, who relieved him of the need to answer.

“We’ve taken good care of him.”

Ashlyn slowly turned to look at Parker. “Got him something to eat, drink? Offered to put some heat on in the car?” She glanced at the open door and shook her head. Ashlyn straightened up as she turned back to Parker and lowered her voice. “Wonderful job, I’d say. Stellar.”

There was no way for anyone to miss the sarcasm that saturated her words, and Tain watched as the cocky grin fell from Parker’s face. “We did what we were told. We’re ready to take him home, just waitin’ on the official okay.”

“We’ll be talking to the family, so Christopher can come with us,” Ashlyn said. “You guys are done here. You can check in with Sims and see where he needs you.”

Parker’s mouth hung open for just a second too long to go unnoticed, and then his jaw tensed. “But—”

“I am in charge of this case and this crime scene, Constable Parker.” She glared at him for a moment, then walked toward the open door.

Tain watched as the officer’s gaze followed her, and the corner of Parker’s mouth twisted into a scowl. His, “Whatever you say, ma’am,” response was barely audible, but the tone came through loud and clear.

“Is there a problem?” Tain asked him.

The officer’s focus shifted to Tain’s face, and after a second he started chomping on his gum again. Parker reminded Tain of one of those stereotypical U.S. patrol cops they always had on TV shows, with their dark sunglasses, willingness to use force even if unnecessary and inclination to see women as pretty li’l things in need of rescuing.

“No.” The cynical smile was back in place. “No problem.”

Tain leaned closer and said, “There better not be.” His voice had just enough edge that, from the corner of his eye, he could see Ashlyn glance back at them, but Tain kept his focus on the man in front of him.

He’d worked with guys like that before. Head full of attitude and an undersized dick they were compensating for that was still bigger than their brain.

Kind of guy who was reckless. Who’d screw up on the job and expect his brothers in blue to close ranks to protect him.

Kind of guy who could get someone killed.

Ashlyn felt her cheeks burn but tried to suppress her annoyance. A few years earlier Tain’s protectiveness would have pissed her off, but now it was Parker’s attitude that got to her. She had a job to do, and so did they. Politics and prejudices shouldn’t get in the way, but all too often they did.

There were far more important things to think about. Christopher Reimer was hunched in the backseat of the car, where he’d been for over an hour. His face was pale. Not ghostly white, just lacking color, the way skin did this time of year in an area where residents were denied exposure to the sun day after day.

She knelt down beside him. “I’m Constable Hart. We’re going to take you home now.”

There was no change in his expression. He didn’t look up, just sat slouched down on the seat and stared at his feet, as though he hadn’t even heard her.

“Christopher?”

“Whatever.”

Ashlyn was glad he still hadn’t looked up because she was able to push the frown off her face before he had a chance to see it. It was never easy to deal with kids, but this one was particularly tough to read.

“Come on. We’re taking my car.”

That finally got Christopher to look at her. His eyes were hooded, face still expressionless as he let out a deep breath and muttered, “Whatever.”

If Tain hadn’t relayed the details of his interview with Christopher, she would have wondered whether that was the only word in his vocabulary. She straightened up, stepped back and watched as Christopher Reimer got out of the car and walked across the parking lot. His baggy jeans were streaked with mud near the bottom, and from the knee down on the left side they were wet. The thin shirt he was wearing barely covered his thin frame, but from the way he carried himself Ashlyn suspected he was pretty strong. He was more of a lean, tough type emerging, rather than a scrawny weakling.