The Frailty of Flesh (41 page)

Zidani stared at him, lips twisted into what could only be called a snarl. Then he put his hands on his hips. “We’re putting together a team to search for Lisa. Every border crossing, ferry, checkpoints on the highway.” Zidani looked at Craig’s head. “I don’t want you pushing it.”

“I’m okay.”

“They’re meeting out front.”

Craig hesitated, hands still on the box in front of him.

“Don’t worry, Nolan. I’ll make sure these boxes end up somewhere safe.”

The look on Zidani’s face was enough. Craig let go and walked past his boss without a glance. Zidani had been a plant since day one, there to investigate Craig, although the fact that Zidani had let Craig handle this particular case alone made him suspect they’d been looking at Ashlyn, Tain and Steve as well, because he had no doubt Luke was involved somehow. Craig was sure of that, even without concrete proof. In a matter of days, or even hours, Zidani and Luke would be gone, reassigned because Craig had caught on to what was happening.

Left in place long enough to clean up one old mess. Donny’s death had provided another convenient opportunity to make sure the sins of the past were never revealed to the public.

Unless they could find Lisa.

Tain groaned as he reached for the kink in his back. Considering how many people slept in hospital chairs on a daily basis it was shocking they didn’t get ones that were more comfortable, and more suited to their dual purpose.

For a moment he felt disoriented. He knew he was in the hospital from the moment that consciousness first started to pry him from his sleep. There was no confusion there.

What surprised him was that he hadn’t been woken up by something external—a noise, a person, a telephone ringing. A glance at the clock was all he needed to confirm that his body had identified this as the usual time he woke, despite the fact that he’d hardly slept for the past two nights.

He got up, went to the washroom, swirled a cup of water around his mouth to clear the bad taste and washed his face. There was no remedy for bloodshot eyes within his grasp, or for his dark, tousled hair, which was getting longer than he normally kept it.

As he returned to the room and stood at the foot of the bed he thought of how small Ashlyn looked, how vulnerable. Those weren’t words he typically associated with her. She wasn’t a big person, but she was strong and carried herself with confidence both on and off the job.

She would hate it if she knew what he was thinking.

Dark bruises stood out on her face in stark contrast to her pale skin. For some reason, the effect made her seem like a china doll, fragile, breakable.

He almost hadn’t stopped by her house the night before. After she’d left, Zidani had spoken to him, about his own situation.

“Have you decided what you’re going to say about social services and the police investigation?” Zidani asked.

He stood slowly and stared at Zidani as he said, “None of your fucking business.”

No course, no seminar, no self-help book filled with wise words and the best of intentions…Nothing prepared a person to tell a parent their child was dead.

And nothing could prepare a parent to hear those words, to know that their child had been taken from them. Fathers were supposed to protect their children. Whatever he could say about the investigation, about social services, even about his ex-girlfriend, none of it changed the fact that he’d failed his daughter, and she’d paid the price with her life. He should have said to hell with the courts and refused to honor the custody ruling.

He walked back to the chair, pulled it up to the bed and placed his hand over Ashlyn’s. She was cold. He got up, found another blanket from the empty bed beside hers and spread it over her gently, tucking her arms underneath. Then he sat down and reached under the blanket so that he could hold her hand.

Where was Craig?

At least half a dozen times he’d phoned and left messages on Craig’s cell. He pulled out his phone and checked it, just to be sure. Still charged.

The worst thing about sitting there was the conflict. Should he try talking to her? What would he say? All the things that were going through his mind didn’t sound like the right thing to say to someone who’d been beaten to a pulp and left unconscious.

He looked up when the door opened. Typical doctor, with a blue shirt, white coat, clipboard in hand, short dark hair graying around the edges and nondescript glasses. “How’s she doing?”

“Hasn’t woken up.”

The doctor walked around to the side of the bed Tain was sitting on. “You’re her partner?”

“Yes.”

“She has a couple of cracked ribs, and the bruising you see on her face is nothing compared to what this guy did to her body.”

Tain processed that. “What about organ damage?”

“I don’t think we have anything serious to worry about there. So far, the test results are encouraging.” He felt the doctor’s hand on his shoulder. “But she lost the baby. I’m sorry.”

That was when he grasped what the doctor had meant by partner, but Tain didn’t correct him. “What happens now?”

“We gave her a sedative last night, so she’ll probably sleep for two or three more hours. You should go home, get some rest. We’ll call you if anything changes.”

Tain thought about that. He didn’t want to go home, but he should tell Zidani. As he stood he pulled out his wallet and removed a card, which he passed to the doctor.

“If anything changes or she wakes up, please call me right away.”

The doctor nodded. “She doesn’t know about the baby yet.” He paused. “Sometimes it’s harder for people to hear that kind of news—”

“I’ll tell her.”

“You’re sure? It’s not an easy thing to do.”

He thought about how he’d felt, bracing himself to tell Mr. and Mrs. Reimer that their son was dead. “I know,” he said as he bent down and kissed Ashlyn on the forehead, keenly aware that it was the only time he’d ever touched her that way, grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

Despite his desire to return to the hospital as quickly as possible, Tain stopped at home briefly to change. When he got to the office it was past his shift start time, but the building was unusually quiet.

He didn’t know what made him angrier, the fact that Craig hadn’t returned his calls or the fact that he still wasn’t in the office. Three boxes were stacked on his desk, but there was no sign Craig had been in. Tain tried the house, and Craig’s cell again. Still no answer.

Luke’s desk was also empty. Not just empty, he noted. Deserted.

He walked down the hall to Zidani’s office. The temporary nameplate outside had been removed, the desk completely cleared, all personal effects gone. He tracked down the duty sergeant.

“Transferred, effective immediately.”

“Just Zidani?” he asked.

“Zidani and Constable Geller. You’ll report to Rogers for now.”

He filled Rogers in on Ashlyn’s assault, then returned to the hospital.

The RCMP station was a hive of activity, and they were standing in the hallway, at a crossroads between corridors to interview rooms and offices.

Emma handed Craig a hot cup of tea. “You look like you could use it.”

“It’s been a long night.”

“Anything?”

He looked at her as he took a sip.

She made a face. “Off the record.”

“Well, a team has been searching for her vehicle, and an APB has been issued for her and the car. Personally, I’ve been to the airport to talk to security there, met with the border guards and Washington State Police. She’s wanted on suspicion of murder, so they’re taking it seriously, but…”

“But what?”

He took another sip of tea. “My gut says she’s gone.” They were silent for a few moments and he wasn’t sure what she thought of his admission. “You got your exclusive?”

“Yes. Small consolation.”

The tinge of sadness in her eyes hinted at what he knew already. Without Donny it would be harder to prove the case against Darren.

A man was approaching from the side, and Craig looked up. Ted Bicknell.

“I just want you to know, I don’t hold nothin’ against you,” Bicknell said.

Before Craig had a chance to respond Constable Bicknell appeared. “Everything okay, Dad?”

Ted nodded, then looked up and his eyes widened.

Craig turned and saw Steve Daly approach and extend his hand. “Ted. It’s been a long time.”

Ted didn’t move for a moment, then nodded and shook Steve’s hand, hesitantly at first, then vigorously as a grin broke out across his face. “Good to see you.” The smile disappeared. “Hell of a thing having this case dredged up again.” Ted gestured at Bicknell junior. “My son, Jim.”

After Steve shook Constable Bicknell’s hand he said, “And you’ve already met my son, Constable Nolan.” He glanced at Emma, and then his gaze met Craig’s. “I need to speak to you.”

“I’m—”

“I’m not asking, Craig.”

Constable Bicknell pointed down the hall. “First door on the right, there’s an interview room there you can use.”

Steve nodded and waited until Craig started to walk to the room before he followed him.

As Craig went inside he wondered how many bland interview rooms he’d sat in already, with generic tables and chairs, equipment for recording interviews and little more.

He realized how badly he wanted to bring Lisa in, to prove she was an accomplice in Hope’s murder, but with each passing hour, as he’d thought about what Zidani had said about the evidence and the look on his face, he realized there was no way the bosses wanted that. Arresting Lisa now would mean exposing the truth they’d chosen to overlook all those years before.

“Any trace of her?” Steve asked.

“No,” Craig said as he turned around to face him. “And you know there won’t be.” Craig leaned back against the wall. “Great smokescreen. Get me involved in the manhunt, so that when she isn’t found they can call me up as a witness and say we left no stone unturned.”

“What did you think you were going to prove? That the RCMP isn’t perfect? We make mistakes?”

“When did you stop caring about the truth?”

“The truth?” Steve’s laugh was bitter. “This isn’t about the truth. This was about you and me. You couldn’t let this go. And now you can’t even admit it to yourself.”

“Oh, I know you were clean. I found the evidence. God knows what Zidani did with it.”

“Zidani’s gone. Transferred, along with Geller.”

“Figures.” Craig looked his father in the eyes. “Does that leave you on the hook now? Who will decide what to do about Hope’s real identity?”

Steve stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The DNA from under Hope’s fingernails that wasn’t from a relative? It matched Lisa Harrington.” Craig shook his head. “I couldn’t figure it out. She said some things that seemed strange, that she was always afraid Hope’s father would take her away from her…” He looked at Steve. “Hope wasn’t her biological child.”

Steve’s mouth hung open for a second. “I…I had no idea. We were about to start investigating her more thoroughly, and then suddenly she’s ready to testify and the bosses are pushing us to arrest Donny…” His face was a mix of disappointment and frustration. “Why couldn’t you just trust me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? You didn’t give me anything to trust.”

“Except me.” Steve shook his head. “There are things in my job I can’t tell anyone, including you, and I don’t owe you answers for everything.” He gripped the back of the chair, his gaze lowered. “Look, I know I failed you—”

“This isn’t about that.”

“The hell it isn’t. That’s all this has been about. You actually believed I could be involved with a murder suspect.”

“You got involved with my mother. I’m proof of that.”

“Years ago, Craig. Before I married Alison. I made a mistake. Despite having a clear conflict of interest you refused to drop this case because you had to know if I’d mishandled the investigation.” Steve looked up. “You want to know what I think this was about? You can’t handle the fact that I’m not perfect. In order for you to accept me as your father it’s like you need to believe I’m a hero.”

“Shouldn’t it matter that you’re a good person? Are you saying I shouldn’t care? Don’t tell me you don’t judge my life, my choices, and that you’re never disappointed.”

Steve swallowed. “The difference is I love you. No matter what, Craig. You don’t have to be perfect to earn that from me. You’re my son.”

For a moment they stood in silence, staring at each other. Then Steve cleared his throat. “Ashlyn was assaulted last night and taken to the hospital. Someone broke into your house and beat her up pretty bad. Tain’s been leaving messages on your cell phone. He called me when I was on my way here.”

Craig reached for it, only to find his holder empty. When had he last used it? Not for hours, not since Emma had asked about the charger.

“Where is she?”

“Royal Columbian, in New Westminster.”

Emma was gone when he walked out of the room. He stopped long enough to ask and was told she’d found a ride with an off-duty officer who lived near her office.