Twilight Is Not Good for Maidens (19 page)

Holly touched her forearm for assurance. “They’ll tell you more at the hospital. It’s not a concern with the morning-after preparations today. Just a simple pill can put your mind at rest.”

“It just hurt like hell. And that cap over my face. I had sand in my eye, too. I didn’t even realize until later.” She rubbed at her reddish cheek. “The way he was strangling me, I was close to passing out. Then I heard a boat. The motor stopped. People laughing. You know the way sounds carry. They were way out in the bay. He pushed me down real hard, and ran into the bush. My head hit the stones, but I wasn’t unconscious. My legs wouldn’t work. I was taking big breaths and coughing my guts out.”

“Then what happened?” So that was what stopped him. Made sense.

“There wasn’t any hope in trying to get help from the boat. It was too far away and too big to come in close. Then they went off again as fast as they came. I waited ten minutes hoping that someone else would show up. And another ten to make sure he was gone. No way I could go back another route because the tide was up. I made my way back to the road, staying off to the side of the path when I could, looking out for him. Then I flagged a car. It was that constable. I told her what happened. She tried to use her radio, but the static was bad. So she brought me here. She’s not as nice as you are.”

“Was that red or burgundy car still there?”

She shook her head. “For sure no. So do you think…?”

“Sounds possible. There really isn’t any other way to get to Sandcut without driving.”

“Guess I’m lucky.” Her voice turned to a hush. “That other tall officer said the same thing. Is she new on the job?”

“Actually …” Holly cleared her throat, hoping that Ellen would move on.

“She seemed kind of uneasy with me. Like she didn’t know what to do.”

“Everyone starts somewhere. When you began at the library, you had to learn the ropes, right?”

“I guess.” Ellen leaned her head back and closed her eyes as if to make it all go away. “Are we done now? I told you everything.”

“You bet. Just take it easy. I won’t say relax, but you know what I mean.”

Holly leafed back through her notebook, gratified at all the details. The inspectors would be pleased. A few minutes passed. Ellen’s breathing slowed. A discreet tap came at the door. Ann stuck her head in and whispered, “Sorry to interrupt.”

“I think we’re finished here, Ann.” She inclined her head towards Ellen, whose eyes were fluttering. At least she’d be home safe tonight, but how long would it take downtown?

“Rudy’s here. He’s fortunate that we’re short staffed on patrol because he drove about a hundred kph,” Ann said. “Guess I don’t blame him.”

Ellen’s eyes snapped open and she sat up with a groan. “Rudy. I need to talk to him. Alone, maybe?”

Holly closed her notebook. “It’s a formality, but we’d rather be here in the room. And I’m afraid I have to ask you not to touch him or make physical contact. Just for now.”

Ellen looked like she needed a hug in the worst way. Her Cupid’s mouth went down at the corners. Fragments of pale pink lipstick still stuck to her lips. “But … Okay. I understand. I just want to see him.”

Ann went back into the reception room. “Come on, Rudy,” she said.

In walked a tall blond man, bronzed like a Malibu surfer, his curly hair nestled around his strong neck. Either he’d recently been to a hot, dry climate, or like many people on the island, he frequented a tanning parlour. “El, I came as fast as I could. You poor kid. I’m …”

Ellen looked up at him and started to rise, but Holly cleared her throat. “Sorry, but please don’t touch Ellen right now.”

Rudy backed off, his hands in the air apologetically. “No problem, officer. They told me outside. We don’t want to do anything that might help this guy.” He looked at Holly for permission. “Okay if I sit?”

“Sure. Please.” Holly felt discomfort being a third party, but leaving them alone was out of the question.

Rudy seemed to be fighting the instinct to embrace his girlfriend. He bit his lip as his Adam’s apple bobbed with one swallow, then another. Strong, calloused hands gripped the edge of the sofa. “Hon, how are you doing? Damn it to hell, why did I let you talk me into leaving you there?” A bump in his long nose testified to an old injury, probably hockey like a huge percentage of Canadian youth.

Ellen let out a long deep breath as if he was the best tranquilizer. She looked up at him and blinked. “You told me to wait until you could come. But just an hour. I mean I thought …”

Rudy folded his arms as if to keep them to himself. “I’m blaming myself. We knew about those other girls. But Sandcut’s farther down. And this was during the day. Nobody camps there. If only I’d thought twice….”

“Don’t talk like that, Rudy. I talked you into it. And I’m okay. Really.” She touched her neck with one finger, skirting the bruise. “I lost Jody’s necklace.”

“Never mind that now, sweetie. But she must have been watching over you like the angel she was,” he said. Rudy turned to Holly with a dark cloud passing over his features. “When are you going to catch this bastard? How many have to …” He struggled for control, clenching his fists. He wore crisp chinos and a light blue linen shirt, loafers without socks. It was hard to see his eyes behind the stylish sunglasses with metallic lenses. They reminded Holly of American movies with the highway patrol and their motorcycles. She never liked looking at mirrors instead of eyes.

“You know how quiet and peaceful the island is. This is a first-time experience for all of us.” Now she was an apologist for the force. Caught in the middle with no credit, only blame. A definite downside of policework. Stats meant nothing to people whose lives had been ripped apart. It mattered that
their
case was solved, not ninety-nine others. Who could blame them?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to come on like an insensitive jerk. I’m just worried. When can Ellen go home?” Rudy asked. “I want to get some dinner into her, maybe a glass of wine, and tuck her into bed. It was our second-year anniversary this weekend.”

Holly’s eyes searched their hands. No rings. Rudy added, “Anniversary of our first date. We’re planning to get married next year once we save up for a down payment on a little place in Langford. Even has a mortgage-helper suite in the basement. Right, baby?” Ellen gave a small cry, her lip trembling, and he reached out for her hand, then drew back, his voice warm and confident. “Then we’ll grow old and grey together. Am I a romantic or not?” He turned to Holly. “So what do we do now? I take it that we’re waiting for the detectives or whatever you call them in the RCMP.”

“The EMTs will transport her to the General for a few tests. Maybe an x-ray of her shoulder, too. From our standpoint, anything we can do to make sure that this is the last attack is critical. We don’t want to make any mistakes. Ellen has given us a lot of helpful information. Now it’s up to us to put together the pieces.”

Rudy took off his sunglasses and nodded. “Damn straight. When you catch him, better not let me within a mile. There won’t be enough pieces to bury. And that’s a promise.”

Those mesmerizing ice-blue eyes. Did he have a Scandinavian background or was he wearing exotic contacts? She had a feeling that he made the most of them in his romancing. A wail of sirens came around the bend of the road. Holly looked toward the window. “There they are. Sorry for the delay. I can’t see why you won’t be home tonight.” She looked at Rudy. “You can follow the ambulance to the hospital.”

Ann spoke up. “An inspector from Major Crimes will meet you all there in the emergency room admitting. Ed Smith. He’s been in charge since the Sombrio Beach … incident. Ed’s one of our best. They’ve already posted a couple of officers to Sandcut to look around. They’re stopping here first. I’ll scan your report, Holly, and fill them in on any helpful details about where this happened.”

Ellen turned to Holly. “Thanks for everything. You made it better. I wish you were in charge.”

She looked as if she might have lost her best friend, and Holly felt a big-sisterly impulse in giving her hand a gentle shake. At least she’d kept the girl company and gotten a wingding of a preliminary interview. Out the back window, she could see Ashley leaning against a large cedar and smoking as she scowled. Why did the constable have to be such a downer? Couldn’t she understand that a major break had arrived?

“Thanks for the confidence.” Holly pulled a card from her pocket. “If you have any questions, you can always call me.” Rudy hadn’t moved. “So Rudy, if you can …”

He checked his watch, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Um, about going to the hospital, I have my great aunt in the car. Beth Jacobs. When I heard about Ellen, I didn’t have time to make other arrangements. Can someone give her a lift back to Sooke and make sure she gets home? She lives on Eaglecrest Road. I need to stay with Ellen now.”

A noise of feet and doors came from the foyer, and they all looked up. From the snug atmosphere of the small cottage, now Ellen would pass to other professional hands.

“In there,” Ann’s voice directed.

The EMTs entered, an older woman and a younger man. Holly and Rudy stepped back into the foyer. It was getting crowded.

Holly checked the clock, thinking about Rudy’s request. Her stomach rumbled. She was due for the afternoon off and could just as easily write up her notes tomorrow. “Sure. Eaglecrest isn’t far from my house. I’d be glad to help. Ann, tell Ed that my report will be filed tomorrow.”

Ellen waved off the stretcher. She had the blanket wrapped around her like a small queen. Her colour was returning. Holly imagined that in her place, a hot, cleansing shower would be number one on her wish list. But it didn’t work like that. “No, I’d rather walk. I’m not sick or anything.”

“Right you are, Miss,” the veteran woman said, hands on her hips. “No sense in carrying you down those rickety steps and taking you in with a broken leg. But you’re lying down in the ambulance. We’ll make you comfortable. And I’ll take that handbag for you.” She motioned to her partner. “Let’s get on with it, Roger.”

“Watch your step now,” the young man advised, taking Ellen’s arm and supporting her down the stairs.

Ellen waved goodbye to Rudy as the EMTs helped her to a stretcher inside the vehicle. “See you soon, sweetie. I’m gonna be with you all the way,” he said as the team closed the door.

Rudy clenched his jaw and turned away. “She’s one amazing girl. I’m so damn proud of her. You’d never know that she’d been through something like this.”

His loyalty pleased Holly. Not every man acted like this in a case of rape. So many marriages and relationships fell apart after an assault like this, even when the couple did their best to move on.

Rudy took Holly out to his vintage Datsun Z two-seater, with an old lady in her late seventies as passenger. She seemed to be dozing, her wobbly chin touching her chest. Pink scalp peeked through a head of curly snowy hair. At the crunch of their steps, she nodded awake and looked over with a smile. A faint tinge of lavender cologne or dusting powder moved into the air. Holly was reminded of many elderly aunties. These princesses were treasured in the Coastal Salish world, and the heartstrings of the community with their wisdom.

“Are we going now, dear? You know that
Jeopardy
’s on soon.” Her crepe throat played like fragile violin strings.

Rudy looked into the car and spoke in a very soft voice, his hand on her thin shoulder. She wore a shapeless cotton print dress, and her rheumy eyes peered out from Coke-bottle trifocals. A small brown device curled in one ear like a delicate shell.

“Aunt Beth, Officer Holly will take you home and get you settled.” He turned and looked at Holly, who nodded. “I have to go with Ellen for a little while. She’s had a bit of a shock. Your supper delivery will be there. We showed you how to put it into the microwave. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can. Don’t turn off your hearing aid until you go to bed.”

The aunt answered in a musical tone as she levered herself out of the car with his gentle help. Clearly they had their routines. “That’s fine, then, Rudy. I’ll see you next week.” One blocky black orthopaedic shoe caught on the sill, and he slowly moved it. She wore opaque support stockings over her swollen legs and carried a large-print book from the library.

Rudy leaned in confidence toward Holly. “She’s on a few meds, but she can handle herself at home. A care worker comes in every morning to set her up. We’ve talked about an assisted living centre like the one in Sooke, but she’s kind of stubborn. Runs in the family.” He gave Holly the address.

Holly introduced herself and took Beth Jacobs to her Prelude. Rudy was lighting up a cigarette as Ellen got settled in the ambulance. “That’s a beauty,” he said to Holly. “I’m a classic car fiend myself. Sometimes we tour parts of the island on Sundays. If you ever want to promenade with us, check the web at
www.flivvers.com
for our schedule.”

Holly smiled. Thanks to her father, she was one of the only people under one hundred who knew what a flivver was. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him at dinner to confirm the disappointing news about Bonnie’s tote bag. Each time he got his hopes up about her mother, everything melted down.

“This cute little car
reminds me of Rudy’s,” said Beth. “Do all the police drive sports cars now?”

Rudy had been right. Perhaps she had hidden resources, but it was amazing that Mrs. Jacobs managed to live alone. Who knew for how long? Holly reached over and helped the old woman fasten her seatbelt. “It’s my own car, ma’am. We’re a small detachment and our official vehicle stays here.”

They drove along West Coast Road, Beth humming to herself. It sounded like “In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree.” Perhaps it was her grandmother’s favourite because it was decades before her generation.

“People have such teeny weeny cars today. I remember our green Packard Clipper. Les said that you could whack the fender with a hammer and do more harm to the hammer. Then he said if you scratched a modern car’s paint, the words
Coca Cola
showed through. What a joker. That man did make me laugh.”

Holly found herself smiling. “My father might agree. He knows all the old models.” At least he bowed to realities and didn’t change his car to match his periods. His bank account appreciated the Smart’s 61 mpg.

“Rudy is better than a son. He comes by once a week. Tops up my groceries, too. It’s hard to get by on a pension these days, and I only have the old age and the supplement. I didn’t work after we got married. Ladies didn’t then.”

Leaving that statement to speak for itself, still she looked at Holly, who angled her eyes over for a second before an empty logging truck passed them en route to collecting the last toothpick. “Will Ellen be all right? Rudy said that she had a nasty shock. What happened? Did she take a fall? She wasn’t swimming, was she? The ocean is very dangerous. A friend of mine nearly drowned when she got swept off a ledge in Tofino. Storm watching. Why go asking for trouble? And then there’s the jellyfish.”

Holly didn’t know how much to explain. Perhaps in her somewhat confused condition, it was best not to alarm the old woman. Rudy could deal with that.

“A man was … .very rude to her. She seems to be recovered from her experience. She’s a strong girl. I’m sure Rudy will tell you all about it later.”

“He did say so. I do like Ellen ever so much. His last girlfriend was very snooty. Butter wouldn’t melt, as they used to say.” Beth made a finger-under-nose gesture. “Ellen’s friendly. Rudy and she bring me pizza and we play rummy. I live so far from town that I don’t get to enjoy those special treats very much. The seniors bus still can’t find a driver.”

“Have you lived here long?” Holly asked Beth. The old woman seemed to be humming again. On close inspection, she seemed to be in her late seventies from the way the flesh was beginning to recede from her bones.

“All my born days, dear. Lester was a logger. Today they make them out to be so evil. In those days it wasn’t a dirty word, just an honest living. Timber built the island. Not far from my house they put up a pretty plaque to the old Emerson School. It was named after one of the early Icelandic settlers. Bush has got it all now. Everything grows so fast around here. Even the clear cuts spring up again with life.” She paused and her parchment cheeks fluttered. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else.”

At last Holly made a left onto Otter Point Road and drove a few miles, past the Dodo Farm and Forest Green Llamas and Alpacas to where Eaglecrest joined. “It’s the little blue bungalow on the right,” Beth said. “My husband and I built it in 1960. All electric. The best of everything. I told him that I wasn’t heating with the dratted wood anymore, no matter how cheap it was. He used to say that wood warms you three times, when you cut it, when you pile it, and when you bring it into the house. Filthy stuff. Enough fir splinters in my fingers for a Christmas tree.”

Holly found herself missing her grandparents in Sudbury, who had passed a few years ago. Her mother’s people had died well before their time. Great Aunt Stella Rice had raised Bonnie herself.

They pulled into a small yard. Once it had been well-landscaped. But now, only a husk of a garden with deer fence, an overgrown lilac, and a spindly rose bush remained. Someone had been keeping the wilderness at bay, but only on the margins. A ramshackle single garage had a sinking roof so thickly covered with moss that it maintained its own ecosystem. In the temperate rainforest, growth was fast. What was strange was a very large, fairly new boat trailer attached to an old Dodge Ram one-ton dually pickup at the rear. Perhaps Beth allowed someone to park it there. A neighbour or maybe Rudy. As a telecommunications manager he would have a reliable income. Their own bundled Shaw bill for cable TV, Internet, and phone of $180 a month indicated the company’s sizable profits.

“I’ll see you inside and make sure you have everything you need,” Holly said, helping her out of the low-slung vehicle. As they went to the porch, Holly was pleased to see that the house was in good shape. At least Beth hadn’t become a hoarder. What looked like a scratching post sat by the door. “So you have a cat?” she asked as she took Beth’s elbow to help her up the steps. The woman had a bad hip, and from the gnarled hands, some arthritis. She rocked like a ship as she walked. Was she on a list for a replacement or toughing it out like so many old people?

A sad voice answered, “I had three, but a mountain lion got Taffy and Buster last summer. Those cougars are dangerous. Bears I don’t fear. They go the other way if you make a fuss.” As she opened the door, a large tortoise shell ambled out. “Yertle,” she said. “That kid’s book I used to read to Rudy when he was a little guy.”

As Holly knelt to pet it, she noticed that it was chewing with great difficulty, lips pulled back from the teeth. Conditioned to disciplining Shogun, who picked up every rotting fishbone on the beach, she said to Beth, “He’s eating something. What have you got, buddy? Something bad for you?” Grabbing the cat on the back of the neck like a good mother, she bent to take what he had spit up. It consisted of mashed up white fibres.

Beth tsked and shook her head. “Another cigarette filter. He loves chewing them. I told Rudy to take his nasty butts to the garbage. Yertle gets up on counters and picks apart everything.”

“Nicotine can be poisonous, and the filters, who knows what they’re made of? You wouldn’t want your cat to get sick.” Unrepentant, Yertle was pouncing after a small quail no bigger than half a golf ball. A final round of hatchlings. The quail flapped off the ground and headed for a low bush, leaving the cat switching its tail in frustration.

“I think he’s immune by now. I’ve had Yertle for ten years. I’m just going to tell that boy that he can’t smoke in the house. Do you think he will get mad at me?”

“Rudy seems very nice. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Holly wasn’t trying to intrude, but sometimes a home visit had a larger calling. Underweight animals, those with hair mats and no grooming, often belonged to owners who needed help themselves. More than once, she’d seen a child who wasn’t being nurtured or a woman with a black eye. With discretion, she’d made sure that the right authorities were contacted. Her mother would have approved. The young, the weak, and the old needed advocates, if they didn’t realize it. The door wasn’t locked either, common in her neighbourhood, too.

On a table inside the door was a package. “It’s my supper,” Beth explained, putting an appreciative hand on the foil. “Still warm. All I have to do is put it into the microwave. The cabbage rolls are especially tasty.”

Holly looked around. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” The small living room had an old bulky twenty-one-inch television, a patched leather recliner, a sofa, and a curio cabinet with Beth’s treasures. A picture of an older man in waders with a rod in hand looked down from the mantel. The place was a time capsule for the fifties, but it was spotless, the oilcloth on the table shiny and free of crumbs. An army of pill and supplement bottles sat on a ledge above. An antique toaster, the kind that flipped the bread, was still in use, next to a jar of homemade jam.

Beth said, “I’m fine now, dear. Thank you for the ride. May I offer you a coffee or tea?” Her careworn face begged for companionship. How lonely it would be living alone out here, even with a cat and visits from Rudy.

“My father is expecting me, but thanks.”

“Do you live with your father? How lovely. I never had any children of my own. That’s why Rudy is so important to me. What a blessing.”

As Holly left, Beth grabbed a jar from a shelf and pressed it into her hand. “Take this, dear. It’s my new batch. Fresh off the blackberry bushes last month. Nature’s bounty.”

At home in minutes, Holly grabbed a glass of buttermilk and a cheddar rice cake. By now the task force had been out to Sandcut Beach. Would they find Ellen’s precious coral necklace? Tire tracks from that mysterious red car? Surely with the girl’s description of her assailant, something would gel. Once this rape got into the papers, the pressure would be formidable to bring in resources from other detachments and set up a real task force. Closing the parks wouldn’t be an option. The island couldn’t be turned into an armed camp.

Filling the hummingbird feeder as a few dive bombers came her way, she stood on the front deck in the waning light to collect her thoughts and watch the sun’s last apricot surrender. It looked so peaceful out there. And yet women weren’t safe.

Out on the mighty strait, small fishing boats still trolled for halibut. A hundred-sixty-two pounder had had its picture in the paper this week. Choppy waves bounced the boats about, yet they were sturdy little things with high cabins like cockpits. Her neighbours Jackie and Bryan were hooking up their boat trailer to their vintage Ford 350 Diesel, which sounded like a combination of a tank and a backhoe. Coming down to the property line, she stopped to chat.

“Is that it for the season?” she asked. They kept their boat at Jock’s Dock, the closest marina.

“You bet. I start my work at the hatchery making babies.” Bryan belonged to the Salmon Enhancement Society, which sounded kindly and progressive but basically gutted female fish, scooped the roe, and put it in beds for fertilization. Brutal for the female, but no worse than spawning upstream until she dropped of exhaustion and became food for bears and eagles. “No fry left behind” was their motto.

Holly returned inside to find supper in the fridge thanks to her father, who had a late seminar. She took the glass plates from the fridge and popped them into the oven for his return. Sockeye salmon, scalloped potatoes, and carrots. Most women would have treasured him, but these domestic qualities never impressed her mother. Doing good for people was her mantra, and teaching useless courses did not make the grade. But she never used the “those who can’t do, teach” observation. “Norman may live in the clouds, but he’s a damned good father. I’ll give him that,” Bonnie admitted.

When he got home later with the dog, Holly was in the solarium reading and highlighting a chapter from
Blood Spatter Pattern Analysis
, a textbook best consumed well outside of mealtime.

He went to the kitchen table where she had placed the canvas tote bag. Reverently he touched it and looked down the stairs at her. “It’s your mother’s all right. I thought I’d never …” Nikon’s name was printed on the side along with an embroidered German shepherd image. This wasn’t the same as the raven pendant, where a kernel of doubt waited. There were thousands like it, maybe a few with that same scratch, skeptical police had told her. The tote was unique.

She filled him in on more than the basics which she had left on his answering machine at the office. “I’ve tried calling this Port Angeles man, but no one answers. He may be out of town.”

He cracked the knuckles on one hand, a nervous habit. “It’s been a bad day all around. Seems like it comes in bunches. I have the last word on Samantha Buckstaff. Might as well spit it out.”

What did he mean by the last word? “Spit it out” didn’t sound promising. She looked up from her book with some concern. Would Chipper never come back? Sexual assault was a felony, after all.

In clear defeat, not like the cocky attitude he often assumed to make her laugh, his shoulders sagged on his lean body with the tiniest hint of a pot. He wore gabardine pants, a white shirt, and a diamond patterned sweater like Mickey Rooney as Andy Hardy. “Vice President Buckstaff has upped the ante, I’m afraid. With the financial situation so tenuous, that poor anthro bugger who reported Samantha’s efforts to blackmail him is in dangerous territory.”

Holly’s heart sank. “How so? I thought you were sure you could get him to talk.”

He shook his head. “Not with his tenure coming up this year. Nor the other person in the drama department who had the same experience. Buckstaff has threatened to cut the annual play as a budget control method. They lose money every year. University theatres don’t turn a profit. It’s a question of tradition. The infant phenomenon is going to prevail. Damn shame. You know what they say about academia.”

“Right, it’s so vicious because the stakes are so small.” But were they? Her father made over $110,000 and had premium benefits.

“I was so hopeful,” she said, heading for the kitchen with him.

“So was I. I guess I led you on with my ego. That’s what I get for boasting. Pride goeth before a fall,” he said, tossing back his head in a leonine gesture.

“Hey, you tried. Chipper will have to fight this on his own. It was a long shot anyway.”

“How did that salmon look? Jackie caught a thirty pounder today and brought it over. I used Bryan’s recipe, spreading mayo and mint on top.”

Everything went well with salmon. It was even sold candied. The sockeye run up the Fraser had been the best since 1910. At least something was thriving along with the banana slugs. He dished out the food onto their plates, and she took them to the table. The ever-present bottle of homemade wine appeared. White. The greater of two evils.

“I have some good news of my own. We could use it.” She told him about the possible break in the case thanks to Ellen Hughes.

“That’s what I needed to hear. What a price for that young lady, though.” He raised a glass to her. “I knew my little girl would make the island safe again.”