He reached over and placed his hand under her chin, lifting gently until their eyes engaged, her dark chocolate brown to his deep charcoal.
“We’re meeting Andrew in an hour. The break will do you good,” he said.
“Can’t we cancel? The final exam is just days away.”
To Katherine, graduating seemed the only way to quell her fears—her attacks.
Gibson saw the tension in her shoulders and her shallow breathing quicken.
“I’m buying.” Just a tickle of silliness.
A tiniest of smiles twitched at the corner of her mouth. She tried to suppress it with her hand. She pressed into him, lips brushed against his neck. He tightened his hold on her slender frame. They remained embraced for several minutes. He could sense her body release as her unease subsided. Her softness against the strength of his chest was intoxicating. They drew apart and gazed at each other. They dropped hands, and he stroked her hair.
“Better get moving before I run into trouble.” Gibson lifted his eyebrows suggestively. ‘You know what I mean.’
The grin that had begun at Katherine’s mouth reached upwards and created small creases in the outer corners of her eyes, making them sparkle.
They touched fingertips one more time.
“Should we get ready then?”
They stepped out the front door and clambered into the F150. Dense clouds overshadowed the sky, giving only brief glimpses of the moon. It was still early evening and growing chilly. Katherine pulled her woolly coat firmly around her slim body. The traffic was thin as they cruised down the highway to Oak Bay. Soft music filled the cab, blending with the rhythmic percussion of the tires. Gibson parked on Beach Street, and they strode down the pavement holding hands.
* * *
The Cove Pub in the Ocean Tides Hotel was Andrew’s favourite inn—fish and chips, beer on tap and expansive vistas. Harris Island and the Chain Islets were easily viewed through the large windows. Andrew enjoyed it all while he sipped his brew and waited for the gang to arrive. From his booth, he could see the lighthouse beacon on Discovery Island. It swept a light at regular intervals across the ocean waters and marked the border between Canada and the United States. The Marine Provincial Park was on this isle. The adjacent islands were part of the ecological reserve that preserved the sensitive seabird nesting areas. Boaters paddled along the shoreline, respecting the biological diversity of the west coast. They were eager to capture a glimpse of seals, sea lions and bald eagles. He knew Gibson kayaked throughout here frequently.
He spotted his sister as soon as she entered the room. Shiny cascades of coffee brown hair tumbled over a bronze scarf wrapped around the upturned collar and onto her shoulders. The dark pencil skirt and alligator shoes with tall, thin heels portrayed a strong, confident woman. But Katherine’s compressed lips betrayed her frailty, her uneasiness. He recognized this in her when most would not. He thought people would notice only her physical allure and the elegance of her spirit that radiated through her soulful eyes. She was damaged inside.
Gibson placed his palm on Katherine’s elbow and guided them through the narrow aisles to the booth. He drew his fair share of attention too. The crisp white shirt under a baby blue cashmere sweater and tight black jeans spoke smart and easygoing. His bent nose and the quirky smile added to his mystique, noticeably to the fairer sex. They presented an image of the ideal couple.
Andrew watched as they approached the booth. His sagacity of human behaviour made him aware that we all had flaws. He wondered if Gibson’s veneer of serenity would break down. So far none had surfaced from his genial although solemn disposition.
“Hello, my favourite people,” Andrew greeted them. The clean-shaven face didn’t betray his profession but the tweed jacket and wool trousers did. His thick, stocky build and chiselled chin emanated a power of position, but his cheery demeanour softened the harshness to one of trust.
“Hello, my beloved brother,” Katherine said.
They ordered fish and chips and drinks and settled into the plump cushions.
“This is awesome,” Katherine said as she delved into the salted fries.
Good food, good mood. Gibson wanted to hang onto this time, knowing her need to feel normal.
Andrew squirmed in his seat. He had something to say but didn’t know how to. A tiny bead of perspiration rolled down the side of his face.
“Anybody for dessert?” His courage had deserted him.
Everyone refused. The conversation shifted to local events with Heather’s art show topping the list. Gibson scanned the room after ordering a coffee. Partly obscured behind a screen, he spotted his partner. Scottie and her companion were snuggled close, gazing into each other’s eyes.
“We have lovebirds,” Gibson said as he pointed toward the corner cubicle. “Are they trying to hide from us? Be right back.”
Scottie was dressed in a green and black plaid flannel blouse and jeans. Her dainty girlfriend had on a royal blue turtleneck sweater with grey wool slacks. A delicate gold locket hung from a slim chain, highlighting her elfin features. Sherry shrieked with delight when he sat next to her. She tipped forward and pecked his cheek.
Andrew thought this was his opportunity. He dreaded divulging his secrets to Gibson. Did he have the heart to encumber his sister with his problem? Would Katherine empathize with him or turn aside? Too late. Gibson strolled back.
Chapter 20
Not a speck of blue sky was visible through the cloud cover. A mass of whiteness hung low, covering the mountain range across the strait, leaving just snow-dusted tops peeking out. Wispy clouds swept down to the chilly ocean water, hovering feet above the continuous turbulent motion—the tide was pushing upstream. The dullness of the atmosphere made the morning seem like twilight, matching Gibson’s sullen mood as he stared out the window.
“Hey,” Scottie greeted him as she wandered into the office. “You’re in early today.”
Gibson turned around with a scowl planted solidly in place.
“Sure is depressing,” he said and flung his hands up. “This time of year.”
Scottie stayed and waited for him to speak further.
“At least it’s not raining or snowing. Let’s find Tim.” His quirky smile made an appearance. “That will make me feel better.”
“You bet.”
She drove them through rush hour traffic with a proficiency that was impressive, showing up at the maintenance sheds in record time. She pulled to the curb with a jerk. They jumped out of the vehicle just as David rounded the corner of the building.
David spotted them and spun around instantaneously, not skipping a beat. Gibson caught the motion at the edge of his vision.
“Hey, David. Stop. Can we talk?”
He halted mid-stride, turned and walked back.
“Yeah, what’s up?” His body was rigid, lips forming a slash across his face. His eyes were hooded as if he was hiding from something.
“You know more about Robbie than you’re letting on.” Gibson went with his instincts.
“What do you mean?” David closed his hands by his side, creating tight fists.
“That he was gay.”
“No. But I can tell you that Robbie and Nick had a quarrel a few weeks ago.” He furrowed his eyebrows and made his decision. “It could have been a lover’s squabble.”
“What made you think that?”
“It just looked chummy. Ask Nick. I got to go.” He let out the deepest of sighs.
“Thanks.” Gibson shifted his eyes to Scottie again.
David scurried out of the courtyard with the detectives looking after him.
“What was that?”
“Who knows? Maybe something. Maybe nothing at all,” Gibson mumbled under his breath.
They took an about turn and walked to the garage in silence. The place seemed deserted so they stomped up the stairs to check it out. Jason’s door was closed and the glass transom above it showed no light. They swung left into the lunchroom. Tim was at the table sipping a cof
fee and texting. He glimpsed slyly from the corner of his eye and grumbled.
“You guys again.” Tim looked every bit the bully with his menacing look. His direct penetrating blue eyes were unnerving.
Scottie remained static with her arms crossed over her chest, an intimidating smirk curling her lips. Gibson strolled to the centre of the room and halted, slamming his notebook on the counter. He stood hands on his hips, his large presence hovering over Tim.
“What do you want?” Tim shoved his chair back, making it screech on the linoleum floor.
“We want some answers.”
“What?” Tim extended his legs and clasped both hands behind his neck.
“That’s right. What are your prints doing on the bat?” Gibson asked sharply as he settled himself on a wobbly bench opposite him. He then continued, “The bat you know nothing about. Never seen it before.” He dragged out the final phrase.
“I knew it. You’re trying to fix this on me.” He jumped to his feet.
Gibson glanced over to Scottie blocking any escape. But as swiftly as Tim had surged up, he plunged back into his chair.
“Look, you guys. I was just goofing around in the parking lot. Punching rocks into the hedge.” The bluster had taken a back seat.
“Why would you do that?”
“Just for fun.”
Gibson smelt a whiff of fear radiate from the bully.
“Look. Robbie left it here. That’s all. I didn’t hit him.” He quit chatting and stared at the floor. “This is absurd.”
Tension drove most people to reveal, so Gibson sat still and waited it out. Scottie was scribbling in her notebook, the scratching noise of pen on paper audible in the quietness. Tim fidgeted, shifting his weight and shuffling his feet under his chair. He coughed, licked his parched lips and said more.
“I figure it’s his brother’s bat. Or I suppose Jeff’s his half-brother.” Tim exhaled anew, sweat popping up on his forehead. He swiped it off with his shirt sleeve. Anxiety kept him babbling. “I saw Jeff at the shop last week talking to Robbie. He was twirling a bat, and later he tossed it at the back of the shop. So I figured it was okay to use it. Robbie was at a conference. No big deal.”
Gibson thought he had just said the same thing another way.
“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on Monday morning?” Gibson asked, shifting gears.
“Not really.” He screwed up his eyes. “The wife is in the hospital. So I’m on my own. I left at six thirty. Came straight here.”
Gibson didn’t remark on that. They had already found out where his spouse was, and she wouldn’t be his alibi. It was ironic that a nice girl like her would marry a bully.
Just as he was moving to pack it in, Gibson received a call from forensics.
“Hey, Jocko. What have you got for me?” His expression changed from interested to concern. “Okay. Thanks.” After he hung up, he turned to Tim. “Where is Nick working?”
“At the rink. Are we done here?”
“Sure.”
Gibson wanted to flip the creep a finger, but he held back. They raced down the stairs and out the door.
“What did Jocko find?” She took a fleeting look over to him as they hurried across the yard.
“A print on the condom box.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yup. And the condom in question is the same brand as the box.”
“Guess somebody got careless.” Scottie raised her eyebrows. “Wiped the prints from the foil on the condom and forgot about the box. Good for us.” She waited for Gibson to say more.
“They’re Nick’s prints.”
“Holy shit!” Scottie exclaimed, surprise lighting up her face. They left the vehicle parked on the street and tramped across the boulevard and over the sprawling lawns to the arena. A side gate was unlocked so they stole their way into the building. They heard the rumble of a Zamboni. Nick was perched high in the seat, hanging onto the wheel tightly. He steered it through the corners with expert skill. The detectives lingered on the bleachers rubbing their palms together to keep warm. Nick spotted them and moaned. Then he held up an index finger to let them know he was nearly done. The Zamboni had shaved off the top ice, leaving behind a layer of fresh water. It made the surface look wet and shiny. After ten minutes he strolled up the aisle and sat down on a bleacher below them.
“What’s going on?”
“We found a condom box in the lunchroom garbage can. Your prints were on it.” He searched Nick for a reaction. Not a flinch.
“Same brand as the one under Robbie,” Gibson said, so as to make it perfectly clear where he was going with this.
Nick blanched but disclosed nothing, his eyes roving around the rink. A lengthy silence ensued as Gibson waited for a response. None materialized.
“Can you explain that?”
Still Nick scanned for an answer. He rested heavily in his seat causing the bench to creak with protest. Another long hush permeated the arena.
“If you don’t tell us, we’ll bring you downtown—” Annoyance resonated through his words.
“It’s personal.”
“This is an investigation. So give it up.”
“Oh God. I brought a lady upstairs after the party. You know…for sex.” Nick paused. “But nothing happened. I just chucked everything in the garbage. It was stupid.” He tapped his fingers on the back of the chair in a relentless rhythm.
“What’s the woman’s name?” Gibson knew that Nick was the lockup guy that night—last man out.
“Kim. I can’t remember her surname.”
“You’re cheating on your spouse with a stranger?” Scottie asked. Her expression had changed from scepticism to incredulity as she listened to Nick’s explanation.
“I didn’t cheat.”
“We want confirmation on this, Nick,” Gibson said. “We need to speak to this Kim person. The sooner the better. Is that clear?”
“Okay. I’ll get it. Don’t worry. I don’t understand how the condom landed up under Robbie. I didn’t put it there. I didn’t kill him.”
“Are you involved somehow?” Gibson’s eyes had gone cold. Nick may or may not be the killer, but he might be mixed up in other ways.
“No!” Nick protested, gripping the seat until his knuckles turned white.
“Then tell us about the gay bashing.” The extent of Gibson’s exasperation showed in his dusty eyes, steeling to a deeper grey. “You allow yourself to be a dupe in Tim’s abuse. Do you honestly want to be complicit in a murder?”
“No, no. I’m not involved in any murder.” Nick choked back his fears. He was quivering visibly now, his seat squeaking with the vibration. “It’s just that Robbie drove Tim nuts with his skimpy pants and wiggling his butt. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
Scottie leaned forward about to confront Nick about the feud with Robbie. Possibly a lover’s feud. Gibson laid his hand on her arm realizing what she was going to say. He preferred to keep the quarrel under wraps for now. They had no confirmation—just David’s perception.
Nick sat alone on the bleachers as the detectives made their way out of the cold arena. The anguish in his eyes looked real as he was likely sensing he was a suspect.
“A print on a box is pretty useless for an arrest. We need prints on the condom wrap. Damn.” Gibson thought Nick would break if they confronted him. He had pushed as hard as he could. No such luck. Nick was scared, but he wasn’t going to confess to anything.
They made their way through the mucky grass.
“Tim is in the thick of it. I just know it,” Gibson said.
Scottie had become silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She drove them into town to meet with Jason’s wife. On the way, Gibson phoned David’s spouse to confirm his alibi. He thought a phone call would suffice for the time being.
“Hello.” Jackie answered on the third ring.
Gibson spoke for a few minutes. She corroborated that David had gone to work at six thirty. He thanked her and said he would get in contac
t if he needed anything else.
“Why the shortcut?” Scottie asked. She was stunned that Gibson didn’t want a personal interview.
“David discovered the body. Not a wise move for a killer to make. He seems like a smart guy. We have his alibi for now anyway.”
“Yeah. I can appreciate that.”
Scottie found a spot on Broughton—not easy to find parking downtown—and they wandered over to Wharf Street for a natter with Tammy. Her work was next door to the Old Victoria Custom House. As they passed the building, Gibson noted it was designated a national historic site in the 1980s. He stopped to marvel at the three-storey red brick structure with its mansard roof. Its prime waterfront location overlooked the city harbour.
They walked on and entered the foyer of Tammy’s office and looked for the directory. Victoria Real Estate was on the second floor. They took the stairs climbing two steps at a time to arrive at a wide corridor. All the organizations had glass fronts so the detectives could see inside to the reception areas of each business. As they paraded past, they saw workers tapping on laptops, clinging to phones and huddled in groups. Most likely gossiping. At the furthest office, Tammy was perched on a stool at the front counter. At the party she had worn a tall conical hat with shaggy black hair poking out. Her hair tied into a ponytail now was not much tidier. The smirk on her face with the corners of her mouth frozen upward was about the same as well. Her wrinkled flowered blouse was tucked into a creased brown skirt. She was frumpy looking for an agency environment.
They presented themselves and accompanied her down a rear hallway, her hips swaying as she trotted to her destination. Tammy gestured to a cramped conference chamber with a huge oval table taking up the entire space. Cushy leather swivel chairs were negligently left where they had been shoved aside after the last meeting. As soon as they sat down Gibson got straight to the point.
“You live near the university by Gyro Park. When does Jason leave in the morning?”
“Same as me,” she said. “Although you can see I have further to travel.”
“What about on Monday? Was that any different?”
“Monday?” Tammy wavered as she thought it over. “Yeah. Our normal six fifteen.” She chewed at a nail.
STORM ROLL: a Canadian murder mystery series Page 11
