Twilight Is Not Good for Maidens (13 page)

Ashley took off her cap and ran fingers through her hair. Her chin wasn’t jutting out anymore. “He’s a kid. I’m not gonna crawl to him.”

“And you’re an adult. Start with I’m sorry. You’ll find the words.” She exhaled. Tempted though she was to bring up Ashley’s questionable career, this was not the time. “My first year, I nearly mistook a diabetic for a drunk and threw him in the tank. That would have had fatal consequences. This is part of the learning process. The lesson is now over.”

With a grunt, Ashley went back inside, a marginally honest smile pasted on her face. Attitude 101. The sooner she was out of here, the better. On the other hand, she was crying out for mentoring.

When Trey came out with Ann, he was smiling. From the back seat of the cruiser, Ann retrieved his guitar. “Sit up front. You can serenade me all the way to Rennie,” she said. “Do you know any country songs?”

“Corporal Ann, no way. But my mother does.” His face wore such mock horror that Holly resisted a laugh.

In her office, door shut, Holly made a call to Island District Headquarters in Nanaimo and found the personnel officer who had signed the secondment to Fossil Bay. Sergeant Barr confirmed that Ashley was on probation for the third and last time. “I’ll be honest with you. She would have washed out long ago if it hadn’t been for her father pulling in I.O.U.s. He’s retired as chief of detectives in Kirkland Lake and has a lot of powerful friends in the RCMP. He won a medal for bravery a few years ago, breaking up a gang of drug runners establishing a base in the north. Got himself shot in the process. Big shoes to fill.”

“Thanks for your information. She’s not stupid. But bone-headed might describe her. What did she do that got her in trouble? I’m guessing it was serious, but not enough to get her tossed out.”

“Where do I start? Have you got a few hours? She hauled in a hooker near Regina. Claimed that the woman had a knife, which turned out to be a cell phone. She shoved her to the ground. Bruised her knees and broke one of the woman’s high heels.”

Holly whistled. “I see what you mean. That kind of thing usually merits a suspension at least.”

“There weren’t any witnesses other than the girl. Constable Packke got the benefit of the doubt. We thought a smaller post might give her the time she needed to settle down. Less stress and a safer routine.”

“You mean Golden, if I recall correctly. So what happened there?”

“That was different. She requested the first available transfer. Claimed that one of the sergeants was putting the moves on her. That made no sense. He’s been married twenty years and has five adopted kids from Korea. Father of the year. Instead of making trouble, he said to let it go. He felt sorry for her. Go figure.”

“Moving on to Cowichan,” she said. Her mother Bonnie had grown up there, raised by Great Aunt Stella, when her own mother died of TB and her father perished in a timbering accident. Holly had many cousins and distant relatives in the area. Before Barr even answered, she suspected that if the problems had been with tribal people, mouths were closed. They were very proud and bore their grudges with dignity. “Do you think she has a problem with First Nations people?”

“That didn’t seem to be a factor in the incidents. Racism in Canada is a slippery animal, though. Sometimes it lies under the surface. As for Cowichan, we didn’t hear anything either way,” Barr admitted.

Holly looked at her watch. She’d taken enough of his time. One question remained. “Why pick Fossil Bay? Did we win some reverse lottery?”

Barr offered up a friendly laugh. “All her other posts had men only. Call us sexist. We hoped that you and Ann could be role models.”

For a minute, Holly was almost flattered. Then she wondered if God himself was up to the task. “I don’t know if she’s redeemable. A percentage of officers wash out every year. Frankly, she’s an accident waiting to happen. I hope you won’t get to read about her in the news.”

“Calm down. I’ve seen a couple of bad apples change with a few years of maturity. Any real harm done at your post?”

Holly had second thoughts. Trey seemed to bear no grudges, but Ashley needed a major attitude adjustment. What inside her caused this disconnect? High expectations from her father? She hadn’t mentioned her family at all. Forget it, she told herself. Your job is not to be the detachment psychologist. That’s why they have professionals. But she remembered what her mother always said: “People are not always reasonable, but they act for a reason. Find out why and you can change their mind.”

“Kids are pretty resilient, and if we’re lucky and young masculinity asserts itself, he’ll brag to his friends. Let’s hope he regards her as the exception rather than the rule. It’s taken us a long time to build up goodwill in our community. And it gets me smokin’ for some newcomer to start dismantling it with a crowbar.”

After hanging up, Holly went back to the foyer and found Ashley sitting at her desk, reading a
Blue Line
magazine. “He seemed like a punk. How would I know that he was blind as a bat?” she asked Holly.

Holly looked at the clock on the wall. “If that’s an apology, it’s pathetic. If it’s a joke, it’s stupid. Get out of here even if it is early. I’ve had enough of you for the day. Come back tomorrow and be ready to start over. And read up on hurtful language. Making fun of people will bring you bad karma. If I were riding a toy like that scooter, I’d be very careful to keep on Fate’s good side. One tire blows, and you’re road kill.”

Ashley shrugged and went to the closet for her street clothes, disappearing into the lunchroom to dress. A minute later the stutters of the bike disappeared down the road.

Ann returned bearing a large foil-wrapped plate and a smile to match. “Damned if his mom didn’t give me a fresh pie. Last of the blackberries. Want a piece?”

“And insult my dad? He’s making brownies tonight. Anyway, did you fix things with Trey?” Holly asked, massaging the bridge of her nose. She never got headaches. Then again, that was B.A.: Before Ashley.

“I think so. He’s a good kid. Naturally I couldn’t really badmouth our rookie, but I told him that we have to learn on the job. Professional courtesy even if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“I hear that she comes from a law enforcement family. Dad’s a hero.” She capsuled what Barr had told her.

Ann shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Trying to live up to his record. It’s tough to follow a parent into a profession. That’s why I didn’t go into business like my father.”

“Amen. Teaching or legal advocacy are the last things I’d want to do. If I didn’t like coming to work, I’d leave the profession.”

“So you say now. When you get a little older, you won’t be so casual about changing careers. Anyway, sounds like this is her last chance,” Ann said. “And still she’s coming on like gangbusters. None are so dumb as those who will not learn.”

They both looked at Chipper’s desk. “I sure miss …” they both said. Holly used to link pinkies with her mom and make a wish when that happened.

She went on to relate her father’s opinion of Vice President Buckstaff. “Academia isn’t the polite and civilized world in people’s imaginations. Especially the administration throat-cutting en route to the top. He’s going to make some inquiries.”

“Sounds like we could be catching a break. So she has a history of bribery and threats. But as for your dad, a civilian messing around in a sensitive matter could be tricky, not to mention the collusion idea with your job. Does he know what he’s doing? Is he as impulsive as you are?” Ann gave a teasing smile as she put on her coat.

Holly shook her head as she picked up one of Ashley’s empty drink cans. “He’s not a people person, if that’s what you mean. But I don’t think he’ll overstep himself. With all the years he’s been at UVic, he has a lot of connections. If anyone can shine a light on this girl, he can.”

Ann turned for the door. “Then we’ll have to figure out what to do with the information. Like going out of bounds to get to the goalpost.”

“Then the run better be picture perfect.” Mixing her metaphors, she scored a two-pointer in the wastebasket.

“Sombrio Beach. We need
an ambulance and the police.”

Seven-thirty. On a cloudy grey morning with dawn tardy, Holly hadn’t even taken off her hat. On the phone, Harold Richards said he was a retired logger living on West Coast Road, the only house for a mile in each direction at the entrance to Sombrio. To complicate communications, he spoke quickly, apparently working around his dentures. It sounded like he had a mouthful of marbles. Two young men had come to his house just after sunrise.

“Take your time, sir. Is anyone injured?” She took a fleeting moment to visualize the area and where a Helivac might land. Once past Fossil Bay, it was more expedient to use that method of transporting people in urgent distress. Remote parts of the island were evil places to have an accident.

He gave a slight moan. “It’s all over from what the boys say. I saw some fatalities when we cut down the big trees in the old days. Eyes open. Nobody home. I don’t mean any disrespect.”

“There’s no landing place, as I recall. Even the parking area has overhanging branches. We’ll have to go with the ambulance.”

“Sorry, I’m upset, jabbering like a monkey. No heartbeat, not breathing. That’s what they tell me. Already cold. Must have happened hours ago.”

Holly swallowed back a lump and scribbled a few notes to tell Ann where she was going. Her cohort was due any minute. “Where exactly did this happen? Where is she now? And who found her?” He hadn’t said a drowning. This was far too late for anyone to be swimming. Few challenged the cold Pacific surf anyway unless they were surfing and wearing wetsuits. Neither had anyone been reported missing.

It flashed through her mind that it might have been a fall. On the Juan de Fuca and West Coast trails, with slippery logs over creeks and steep inclines, at least once a week someone was taken out. All the warning signs in the world couldn’t controvert the possibility of a broken ankle, much less a broken neck. Only last month a pregnant woman had set out with her family for a three-day hike over brutal terrain with ladders and swinging bridges. Then labour had set in. Luckily the EMTs had delivered a healthy baby.

“Down by the beach. The kids hiked back to the parking lot and were driving down the road to Rennie when they passed my house. There ought to be a payphone like at French.” Even Port Renfew, with only a volunteer fire department, lost its connections at least once a year. Telus had recently installed a local loop system where at least people could call each other if the system went down. The communications failures were going to cost a life one day. Anyone over fifty needed to keep their cardiac care current, their aspirin topped up, and a defibrillator handy.

“Did she drown?” Every few years, along the string of beaches in the crown jewels of the island, someone fell, drank too much, and was pulled under by a rogue wave at high tide. Darwin’s losers. Sometimes in exiting the gene pool, they took others trying to rescue them.

“Let me put the boy on. Mike, come here.”

A younger, less confident voice took over. “No, ma’am. She didn’t drown. Not unless someone pulled her out of the ocean and moved her a couple hundred feet. We found her not far from her tent near a path in the bush.”

A girl. Normally that ruled out heart attacks or strokes except for very unusual cases. She started wondering about alcohol or a seizure.

She had forgotten to jot down Harold’s last name. The ability to think clearly and not panic came with experience. The best thing to do would be to take a few minutes to ask questions before all hell broke loose. Small facts and nuances could get lost in the shuffle.

“I’m alone here, but I’ll be out as soon as I can. Let me get things started with the ambulance.” She heard a car pull up outside. “There’s my backup. Do one thing for me, Mike. Make sure everyone stays in a group. No one is to leave. And no one is to walk around anymore than absolutely necessary.”

As she hung up, Ann came in, and Holly briefed her about the emergency. The woman’s soft grey eyes grew wide with surprise, but waved Holly off. “You get going. It doesn’t sound good.”

“Call West Shore for a team. They’ll want the integrated unit. We’re not talking about a drowning here, nor an apparent accident. I’m not driving all the way to hell out there with no communications to find out I need them.”

“My thoughts exactly. Err on the side of caution. But how did she die?”

It was a half hour to Sombrio, adding the hike from the parking lot. Long-distance policing had rotten logistics. Until the team arrived, she’d secure the scene at the beach. As for the parking lot, another officer would be needed there, too. Harold had said that he worked part time two days a week as a security guard at Sears. He could help at the lot. Cars would be coming and going.

She’d provide the squad with preliminary notes, drawings, and observations. Chances were that the ambulance might take as long as an hour, depending on where they had last been dispatched. No rush now. A chill made its seismic way through her body. Another girl, another beach. Was there a connection? She’d miss Chipper’s skills. Putting up crime scene tape was his speciality, along with interviewing younger people. He knew how to talk their language and not patronize them. That’s why his run-in with Samantha was so puzzling.

She came out of her office ready to roll. “Where is our favourite constable?” she asked Ann. “Time’s running out. I can’t handle it very well by myself.”

Ann looked up from the phone. “Fifty minutes for the officers. More for the ambulance. And that’s if there aren’t any road delays between Sooke and Victoria. Hydro crews have been trimming in preparation for the winter.”

Holly grabbed a duffle with supplies and checked her watch. Crowd control would be a nightmare. The beach was several hundred yards long. People could be marching though like a parade. A warren of paths ran along the shoreline.

“I can’t wait any longer, Ann, so when little miss Ashley …”

The signature putt-putt sound reached them. One minute early to be precise. Ashley came through the door with her helmet under her arm. “Sorry I’m late. There was a break in the water line to the creek last night, and we had no …”

“About time you reported. Dress fast. We have a body at Sombrio.” A year ago she might have worried about hurting Ann’s feelings in leaving her, but the corporal had acclimated to her limitations and was the heart of the detachment. She also had one of the coolest heads in a crisis. Chipper’s case proved that.

“A body?” Ashley’s seriously plucked eyebrows marched to attention, and she pumped her arm. “No kidding. And I said nothing ever happened here.”

“Don’t sound so cheery. A woman is dead.” Then she noticed a worried look on Ashley’s face. After her bad day, did she tie one on last night? “What’s the matter? Did you come to work sick? Of all the …”

“No, it’s … I have to go to the bathroom.” Ashley gripped her stomach and left.

“Now?” Did the woman have IBS or something worse? What a disaster for a police officer. Holly remembered her public speaking courses in training where the guys rushed out just before their presentations. “Make it fast! I am
not
waiting!” she called.

Hurrying outside, she started the car as Ann came out with a couple of bottles of water and two muffins for them. Who knew how long they’d be gone? “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but the water’s running and the toilet’s flushed twice.”

Holly checked the trunk for traffic cones. She ran a hand through her short, layered hair in a distractive motion. “Do you think this is connected to French Beach? I wanted a chance to catch this guy, but not at this price.”

Ann said, “Come on. You don’t even know how she died yet. It doesn’t sound like an accident, but …” Her voice trailed off with a sombre tone. Ann had been on hand for more than one multiple fatality due to ice and snow on northern Ontario roads. In one case, a moose had crashed through the windshield and across the passenger seat. The driver survived.

Holly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Ashley!” she yelled. “Any time you’re ready, your chauffeur is waiting!”

Ann passed her a file. “I hauled out the report from French Beach and made copies. They’ll want that for comparisons.”

“Good thing one of us is operating on eight cylinders.” Holly tucked the file beside the seat.

The door slammed. Ashley gripped the railings and vaulted the last few feet, steadying her hat when she landed. Something glittered in her emerald eyes. “Ready. Let’s go.”

Hitting the siren and lights to nudge gawking tourists out of their way, they took off. Once beyond French Beach, the road grew narrow and winding, traversing clear cuts and the occasional reforested timberland. “Replanted 1975,” one sign bragged. In the old days, thirty-five to fifty years was respectable husbandry. Now they were taking trees which had sprouted the year Holly’s mother disappeared.

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Are you familiar with the layout of Sombrio Beach? Have you ridden out on your bike?” Holly asked Ashley, setting up in her own mind an arrival strategy. Every couple of minutes, another creek went by.

“I just got the bike a week before I got posted here. I was planning on making the Circle Route this weekend. Maybe see Avatar Grove in Rennie. These beaches are too cold for me. I prefer Malibu, Hawaii, long stretches of sand.”

“Sombrio is mainly cobble. Hard to walk on, even if it has its own charm. Let me draw a picture for you. Just be glad that we’re not at Mystic or Bear. The only access at Sombrio, aside from the coastal trail, is by overgrown logging roads. Coming in by boat would be faster. As it is, we still have a bit of a hike. The beach isn’t right off the parking area like at French. It’s half a mile through the woods.”

Sombrio had a Spanish connection from the explorer who gave the strait its name. Manuel Quimper had arrived in Sooke Harbour in 1790, sailing in on the billandra
Princesa Real
to claim the land. Five years and a threat of war later, the Brits took possession. Quadra Street in Victoria, Galiano and Valdez Islands, and the city of Tofino reflected the same heritage. Mysterious rumours said that a hunter lost in the bush back behind the Potholes Park in Sooke had found a cave loaded with old-fashioned armour and gold from an ancient expedition. When he made his way back to civilization, he could never retrace his steps.

Soon they were travelling through Jordan River, where a huge hydro dam had provided Victoria’s first power near a log landing place. Now surfers came here year round. As they exited the skeletal town where once a thousand people lived, they passed a new housing development. With oceanfront and ocean views at a premium, even fifty kilometres from Victoria wouldn’t seem so far.

The entrance to China Beach whizzed by. On foggy days the perception was that the Pacific lay beyond instead of Washington State. After months of single-lane traffic, the washout from last year had been repaired.

When they skirted the water, the waves were sparkling and brave, without any sense of the tragedy that awaited them. Blue water, sky full of puffy galleons, and conifers. If death ever took a holiday, this could be the place.

They passed creeks with names from history or imagination: Uglow, Maidenhair, Fatt, Ivanhoe, Rosamund. After Loss Creek, just before the river, they turned down at the Sombrio Beach Trailhead, along a sad excuse for a road.

Ashley lurched at the rough run, grabbing for the dashboard. “Maybe we should have brought the Suburban.”

“This is nothing. There’s twenty feet of snow along the San Juan Ridge. We’d need a snowmobile to get up there in an emergency.”

Two kilometres later they parked in the lot, amid the minivans and cars of overnight campers who used a steel pay station still prone to theft. A large bulletin board gave instructions about the park and issued warnings about cougars and black bears. Make yourself as big as you can and yell. Don’t travel alone. Avoid earphones. Be alert to your surroundings. Never turn your back on the animal. Good advice, but did it work for human killers?