by Jason Mason
Carefully avoiding any ice that could be seen from the sky, the man retraced his steps back to the truck, again dragging a branch behind him the last hundred meters or so to ensure his footsteps could not be seen. Though with all the snow that was falling that may have been a little over cautious. He had to scrape the snow off of all his windows before he could get back into his truck and get back on the road.
Once back on the road he heard a police warning about women going missing and that body they found in the river (damn the rope for letting that cinder block loose), and especially warned people from getting in ride-share vehicles without being sure of what they ordered.
The man started panicking. Maybe he shouldn’t go out tonight, the risk of getting caught was just too strong. If the police caught him he would be going to jail for the rest of his life and all of his careful planning would be for nothing.
But she’s not right yet.
“But she’s very close,” he said turning down the radio.
She’s close, but you will lose her if you don’t complete her. Do what you need to do.
“I will,” he vowed, ignoring the exit to Edmonton and instead turning off towards the smaller town of Fort Saskatchewan. He had no intention on being caught tonight.
Chapter 18
The Trap is Sprung
The red lights from the backs of the cars on the street blurred in with the white and yellow street lights along with green traffic light from the intersection a block away. All were distorted by the heavy snowfall that made the whole Whyte Avenue look like a child’s snow globe that was recently shaken. Sitting on a park bench in the middle of this winter wonderland was Baker Desjardins, wrapped in a thick Canada Goose jacket, hands and arms pulled up through the sleeves and wrapped around his chest to keep his body heat in.
It was 10:45, and he had not seen a black Toyota the whole night, despite watching the intersection and making note of every car that went though. Luckily traffic was light due to the weather, but every other night that phony Uber car had gone through there. For some reason he couldn’t figure out though, it didn’t drive through tonight.
Regretting his decision years ago to quit smoking, Baker was beginning to wonder if he should take up vaping. By eleven o’clock at night he decided that he was going to leave and go home but he still hadn’t heard back from Detective Jones yet. He was starting to wonder if Connie was right and that all of this searching and tracking was a wasted effort. He started questioning what he would do if he found the kidnapper, it’s not like he had a gun or anything like that on him, but he wasn’t sure what the criminal would be carrying. So then, would he just take a picture of the car or try to get the licence plate?
Originally his plan was to follow the car with his and phone the police when he saw it, but unfortunately he wasn’t able to park closer than three blocks away from the intersection and the Toyota would be long gone by the time he got back to his car. But now it was getting cold and there were no cars coming. He checked his phone again and saw no calls or texts from Connie or the detective. It was a wasted effort.
“Forget this,” he said as he slid his phone back into his coat. Since the killer wasn’t going to be coming by tonight, he was going to go into one of these pubs and grab a snack before heading home. Waiting all day was making him very cold and very hungry. Warming up with a snack would at the very least improve his spirits slightly.
◆◆◆
There was nobody in Fort Saskatchewan out in this weather. The snow was too much and everyone was staying inside. Not a single damn person was out in this stupid hick town, that was basically a suburb of Edmonton.
There should be more out tonight, nobody wants to walk home in this weather.
“I know that but they’re just not here!”
Go to where they are.
“Where are they?”
You know where they are.
“But the police will be looking for me…”
Go to where they are. You’re smarter than the police.
There was no use fighting his conscience. He’d never win. The man left the dead nightlife area of Fort Sask and starting on the highway towards downtown Edmonton. He was terrified of the police catching him but could rationalize it in his head. The police didn’t know who he was, they only knew what he was driving.
“They won’t be looking for the F150,” he said. “I should be safe.”
You’ll be safe. Then you and Sophie can go home.
◆◆◆
“I’ll have a pound of honey garlic wings and a poutine please,” Baker ordered in the bar. The waitress just smiled and took his menu away giving him the Coke zero he asked for earlier to drink while waiting. Baker wanted to stay sharp, and especially driving home in this weather didn’t want any alcohol interfering with his senses.
While he wasn’t a fan of being at a bar like this by himself, he didn’t have any intention on cooking for himself when he got home so if he was going to eat it was either going to be fast food or eat here. Both are pretty much as unhealthy as the other so he might as well eat something he enjoyed, unlike the stale mcburgers you can get at a drive-thru.
While waiting he looked over at a group of four girls who had just ordered a round of Burt Reynolds shots. They seemed just like the type of victim that had been going missing the last week or two – young, in their early to mid-twenties, pretty, and most of all completely inebriated. You would think that with the discovery of Andrea Slye’s body people would be a little bit more cautious, but not in this city.
“Hey, how are you girls getting home tonight?” Baker shouted over to them with genuine concern. Three of the four ignored him but the girl directly across from him gave him a funny look and yelled back angrily.
“Not with you, creep!” she said sloppily as all the girls started laughing together.
Creep? He thought. I didn’t used to get called that when I went to bars like this. Maybe this place is a little too young for me. Whatever, it’s not like I’m here to pick up anyways.
He was still hurt from the shot anyways. It’s not fun knowing you’re too old to do something.
“Just make sure you all go home together,” he shouted back over the music at them. “You all must have heard the news about all those women who went missing?”
The only girl who talked to him rolled her eyes dismissively and went back to laughing with her group about something or other. Baker leaned back and hoped that he got through to her, even if the killer wasn’t out tonight until he was caught every woman in the city was at risk. Including these four and including Connie.
Baker checked his phone again and instinctually opened his email. He had all of his work emails sent to his personal phone so he could check them at any time. While he was busy working on this (unpaid) file to find Mary, Ashley had set up another appointment for him first thing in the morning tomorrow for a new client who called in from remand. Attached to the email was the standard prep sheets that shows him everything about the client that he normally reviews before these meetings. It would take him at least an hour to go over it.
“Not tonight,” he said putting his phone away in his pocket. “I’ll read it in the morning.”
After finishing his food and paying his bill, Baker realized that he was leaving at the same time as the girl that called him a creep. Turns out she didn’t listen to his advice after all as the other three young women appeared to be ordering another round of drinks while she was stumbling out of the bar. He was walking just behind her and saw the lady stagger as she walked towards the door, putting her jacket half on at the same time. Whatever, he did all he could do to protect her. What more could he do, offer her a ride? She would call the police.
Baker turned to his right to grab his car as he left Smoky’s pub and after half a block a sense of responsibility made him glance back at the woman to ensure she wasn’t getting in any black Corolla’s. Thankfully she wasn’t. Instead she was just leaning up against the wall staring at her p
hone while smoking a cigarette.
He stopped and watched the woman who had called him a creep just a few minutes earlier for a moment. She must be waiting for a ride… But what if it’s an Uber she’s waiting for?
I can’t let this happen, he told himself as he started heading back. Even if she calls the police that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Baker headed back through the ever increasing snowfall, wearing his jacket, a toque and his leather gloves. He was constantly brushing the snow off himself as it slowly piled up on his sleeves and shoulders. If he was wearing glasses there was no way he could be able to see for more than a minute.
“Ma’am,” he says as he approaches.
“Oh it’s you… what do you want?” she asks, obviously unimpressed but less rude now that she wasn’t with her crew.
“Did you call a cab?” he asks.
“Why, are you offering me a ride home?” She replied, flicking her cigarette.
“No, you shouldn’t take rides from strangers,” Baker admonished. “The police are warning people about…”
“Leave me alone, creep,” she interrupted looking away from Baker and up the street.
“Look, I can call you a taxi if you need one. I don’t have any ulterior motive for telling you this, just that it’s dangerous…”
“You can call the police to take you away, weirdo,” she responded flicking the butt of her smoke into a snow pile. As she started walking away, Baker gave up.
There’s nothing more I can do, he realized as he turned to go back to his car. I tried. And she’ll probably be fine.
As he was walking he still kept checking out the cars that passed him, always looking for a black Toyota Corolla with that crack in the windshield and the Uber logo. There were still very few cars on the road in this condition – he did not look forward to driving home in this blizzard – but the only Uber he saw on his walk was a silver F-150 that passed by.
I didn’t know pick-up trucks could be Ubers, he wondered. Then he wondered if this was the Uber that girl had ordered. He looked back and sure enough she was still there waiting by the bar, but she didn’t seem to notice the Uber coming.
He looked in the window of the driver and saw what he assumed was the average Uber driver: middle aged, white, with a little bit of stubble and wearing an Oilers baseball cap with an orange brim on it. After seeing the truck stop in front of the lady he had hoped that would be the end of her night, thankfully avoiding the killer tonight. She would get in, go home, and the Baker would do the same. Just to his own condo.
As he stared at the interaction he started to wonder why it was taking so long. The man had apparently rolled down his window to talk to her, and he’s never done that anytime he’s taken an Uber. It was just get in and go.
Orange brimmed baseball cap.
Immediately Baker’s mind went to all the surveillance videos of the Uber driver distorting his face by using that cap. That orange brimmed Oiler’s cap. While they were very common in this city, this couldn’t be a coincidence – the hat, the window conversation – it has to be the same guy that kidnapped Mary, just in a different vehicle because the police was after his Toyota and he knew it.
“Wait!” he yelled as he ran full speed back towards the woman. “Don’t get in that truck!”
He was still about a full city block away but it was already too late. She was already getting in the vehicle and he was not going to get there in time to stop her. But damn it, he was going to try anyways! Still yelling while sprinting as hard as he had since playing on the high school football team he had to try to stop on a dime as an older red car jumped out in front of him from an alleyway. Trying to stop on the black ice wasn’t effective at all as he fell onto his ass and slammed into the rear driver’s side door. It felt like he left a dent in it.
The driver of the vehicle got out and looked down at him but he couldn’t make out who she was because of the combination of the snow and that she was still spinning. She looked kind of like an angel to him, because he could see both stars, snow and the spinning familiar face of the driver. He quickly shook it off.
“Baker?” the voice asked. “Baker you’re still here. I…”
“Connie!” Baker exclaimed jumping to his feet and recognizing the voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I was here all night, Baker. I knew you were coming to look for my sister and I was watching you sit on that bench, then I saw you go into the bar and…”
“Connie, I’m glad you’re here but there’s no time for that. See that truck over there?” Baker pointed at the F-150 that was starting to drive away. “I think that may be our killer, we have to follow him.”
“Really?” Connie asked as she opened the door to the back seat of the car. “Okay then you drive. You’re a better driver than me.”
“We’ll get him,” Baker replied as he sat down and shifted the car into gear. “He won’t get away this time.”
He put the car into gear and then skidded out onto the road. The streets were empty except for the car with Baker and Connie, and the F-150 with the rude woman from the bar and potentially the kidnapper of Mary.
Chapter 19
The Chase
Keeping his car close enough to the pick-up truck through the twists and turns while still staying far enough back to avoid suspicion was not easy in good weather. In this blizzard it was damn near impossible. But being helped out by the lack of cars on the road Baker was doing as good a job as anyone.
The only problem was he wasn’t even sure if he was after the right guy.
Turning right onto a bridge, Baker and Connie just missed a yellow light that the pickup truck made it through. Looking left and right, Baker gunned it through the intersection on a red light just as the truck was making a turn a few blocks ahead. If he didn’t burn through that red light the truck was as good as gone. But as they passed through a bright white light flashed behind them.
“Well… hopefully there’s so much snow that red light camera didn’t pick up your licence plate,” he smiled at Connie who did not look nearly as impressed. She didn’t respond.
“Fine,” Baker said looking back at the road. “If you get a ticket in the mail, I’ll pay for it.”
Still he hurried, running through lights when required, taking turns a block behind the truck at times, and doing whatever he could to follow the vehicle. The route the truck took was becoming more and more erratic. He would turn left on one road and then right on another. The truck went through the same intersection twice, and at one point even cut directly in front of Baker, who made eye contact with the driver for a split second.
“I didn’t see the girl, did you?” Connie asked.
“I didn’t, but I saw the guy. He’s our man, I don’t doubt it anymore,” Baker responded.
After this encounter the truck starting making a beeline for the Henday highway, a ring road that surrounds the city of Edmonton. The man knew he was being followed and wanted to get out of the city as quickly as he could and that highway was the best way to escape it.
“He’s trying to get out of town, but I can finally make out his licence plate… DOJ 671,” Baker said to Connie. “Get out your phone and call the police to let them know.”
Connie reached into her coat and pulled her phone out. She pressed the button on the side but her screen didn’t turn on.
“It’s dead.”
“Damn it,” Baker responded reaching into his own coat. “Here use mind.”
She took the phone from him but it also refused to turn on. Both their phones were dead, this kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen but Baker was using his phone often during his watch and dinner.
“It’s dead too,” she informed him.
“Damn it, it’s this cold!” he cried slamming his hand on his steering wheel. “Well you have a charger in here. Charge up your phone for a bit and hopefully we can make a call before they get too far away.
◆◆◆
“Damn it!�
�� the man yelled. “It’s that frigging lawyer following me!”
You really screwed up now, Elijah.
“Shut up, I know I did!” he screamed.
“I didn’t say anything… where are you taking me?” the woman in the back asked, still quite intoxicated. She wasn’t aware that the pick-up she was in was being followed but even in her drunk state she knew she wasn’t on her way home.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the man named Elijah responded angrily as he checked his rear-view mirror. That damn lawyer was still on his tail.
The woman looked around baffled trying to figure out who he was talking to then – giving up – she shrugged as she lay down across the entire backseat of the truck, oblivious to the danger surrounding her. She was tired and this guy didn’t seem all that dangerous to her.
You have to get away.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he responded.
“Don’t I think you know what? Hey also, can I get my phone back now?” the woman asked.
“Shut up both of you!” Elijah yelled as he punched himself in the side of his head. It never quieted the voices for long but he just needed them to stop long enough to think.
“There’s only one of me buds,” she answered. “Now I already told you my name was Cassidy, but you still haven’t told me yours yet. Who are you and where are you going?”
“I know who you are, you’re not right!”
“Not right? I’m not right, am I? Now…. where have I heard that before? Oh yeah I know who you are now, you’re the older and fatter version of my ex-boyfriend,” Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh at her own joke as the car swerved left and right, spinning around corners and through intersections at well over the speed limit. “He used to tell me I wasn’t quite right upstairs too, and that’s why I left him!”
