Lionel shook his head and turned to Tessa. “I picked up the dogs from the police station. But the cats are still out at the farm locked inside the house, as far as I know. The RCMP people are feeding them, but . . .”
Her father answered for Tessa: “Could you take care of the cats, since we’re taking the dogs?”
Cindy waved him off with both hands. “My little dog goes hunting for cats.”
“We’ll take the cats.” Martha Griffins’s voice cut through the room. “Those are the children’s cats, and that’s what Fran would expect of us.”
Tessa couldn’t see her father’s face. He rarely showed any open opposition to his wife’s wishes, preferring to manipulate her slyly to get his way. When Tessa was growing up, he never complained about the problems that originated from an ever-growing number of foster children. When he came home from a stressful day at the office, he was often met by chaos rather than peace and quiet. Maybe he would have liked to build a hut in the woods for himself where he could get away from the noise. Tessa often wondered what kind of dynamic existed in her parents’ marriage.
She turned her head to see if she could get a feel for her father’s mood. But Lionel was blocking her view. He was looking over at Martha Griffins. Tessa had the impression that he wanted to say something to her mother that he couldn’t say out loud. As if he felt bad because he couldn’t do anything to help her. Lionel was somebody who would quickly blame himself for problems, Tessa had realized over the years. His father, the mayor, expected a lot of his sons. Hank had gotten himself free of the pressure by settling in the wilderness. But Lionel, who had stayed in Whatou Lake, still regularly felt the sting of his father’s expectations.
Tessa saw that her mother briefly raised her head and mumbled: “Thank you for coming, Lionel. And for your help. It is very important for us.”
Lionel hesitated for a moment, as if he were looking for an answer, but Kenneth Griffins was already leading him and Cindy out the door. Tessa heard the three of them talking outside, but she couldn’t understand any of the words because Savannah was feeding the dogs, and their whining had turned into loud slurping.
Martha Griffins got up heavily and opened a drawer. “Savannah has cooked up some noodles. You’ve got to eat something, Tessa.”
“And what about you, Mom? Are you also going to eat something?”
Martha Griffins didn’t answer. Tessa gently stroked her hair. She was a whole head taller than her mother. She took the plates out of the cupboard and set the table.
To her amazement her father came in, carrying a bottle of wine. “This will help us to get some sleep,” he said.
Nobody protested, but Tessa filled her glass with water. She had to have a clear head. Somewhat worried, she took a long look at her mother. Was she taking Valium again? Alcohol and a powerful tranquilizer should not be mixed.
Everybody ate silently, but at least they were getting some nourishment. Tessa was about to say something when Savannah began to talk. “What actually happened out there at Whitesand Bay, Tessa?”
Immediately her mother jumped right in. “That is not something that we should be discussing here . . .”
Her father agreed. “Savannah, you know exactly what happened out there.”
Previously Savannah would have had enough sense to keep her mouth shut. But now, unmoved, she pressed on: “Maybe it would help us find Fran. She had apparently been out there.”
Tessa pushed her half-empty plate across the table and fixed her eyes on Savannah. “Is this about me, or is it about Fran?”
“I’m just asking myself . . . ,” Savannah said, but Martha Griffins cut her off by waving her hands.
”Just let it drop, girl.” There was such a profound sadness in her voice that it stopped everyone talking. The dogs were rubbing their noses on people’s legs while trying to push their way between the chairs. “Somebody’s got to take them out,” Martha Griffins said.
With a series of sharp commands, her husband drove himself and the dogs out of the house.
Martha pulled on Tessa’s sleeve. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
“I’ll help quickly clean up the dishes,” Tessa said.
Her mother increased the pressure of her hand. “No, you can do that afterward. Come with me now.”
Tessa understood her message.
12
She followed her mother up the stairs into the upper floor. Her old bedroom was on the other end of the corridor, a long way from her father’s office. Nothing in the room reminded her anymore of her youth. There was a new big bed standing in it, and her mother had replaced the yellow curtains with new ones that had teddy bears and lambs printed on them. This is where Clyde and Kayley slept when they were visiting Grandma and Grandpa. Breena had her own room. Tessa realized all of a sudden that the children would never again spend the night in this room.
Her mother sat down on the bed. Tessa closed the door. Finally she could talk to her alone. She sat down next to her and put her arms around her. Tears ran down their cheeks. But they were too exhausted to really have a good cry. And they didn’t have much time.
“I don’t take the pills your dad gives me anymore. They make my head feel it’s underwater. And then I run around like a ghost.”
“Maybe they would help you to get some sleep?”
“I don’t want to sleep. Because I get these terrible nightmares.” She grabbed Tessa’s wrists with both hands. “Last night I dreamed that Fran was dead. She came to me and wanted to get me to join her.”
Tessa could hear the panic in her mother’s voice. She asked herself whether her father wasn’t right to give her tranquilizers.
“You’re working through all the horror in your dreams,” she said helplessly, “and . . .”
“What happened to the children and Hank? What did you see in the hospital?” Mom looked at her desperately.
Tessa had dreaded this question. But she also knew that her mother would never find peace until she got an answer. “Dad already told you. They were shot to death. Hank, too. We didn’t see much, only had a quick look. All we saw was the head, nothing else. Everything must’ve happened very quickly.” If she repeated this version often enough, she’d end up believing it herself.
“They didn’t deserve that, Tessa. Not Hank and certainly not the children.”
Tessa pulled her mother closer. “I know, Mom. I know.” Her voice gave out.
Her mother could hardly speak, either. ”Fran would have defended her children. Why wasn’t she there?”
That was a question Tessa also asked herself. Why had Fran been in Whatou Lake one day before the murders happened? She thought about this for a while before she answered. “We simply don’t know how all of this played out, Mom. The police will certainly find out.”
They heard the heavy front door slamming shut. There were footsteps and the sound of dogs’ paws scratching on the wooden floor. The stairs creaked.
Tessa looked at her mother’s ravaged face. This valuable time with her had run out.
“It’s quite possible that Fran was in Whitesand Bay,” Martha whispered.
“Why?” Tessa asked surprised.
Her mother looked toward the door. “She wanted to find proof.”
“Proof of what?”
There was a knock. Martha Griffins gave a start.
“Just a moment, please,” Tessa called. She softly turned to her mother and said quickly: “We’ll talk again later.” Martha Griffins nodded.
Her husband stood in the doorway. The husky mix ran into the room. Kenneth eyed his wife questioningly. “You might want to lie down for a while, dear,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Tessa mumbled while her father pulled his wife along.
As she came out of the bathroom, she saw the husky rolled up on her fluffy bedside rug. He half opened his eyes. She patted him and listened. It had become quiet in the house. She slipped under the covers and opened her laptop. The murd
ers were only worth a short article in the national media. But the Whatou Lake News reported that Fran had been to see Dr. Rhonda Kellermann on Monday. Neither the doctor nor the police wanted to explain why. Tessa was quoted with her plea to the general public to come forward with information about Fran. The reporter described her and her father as being relatives “who clearly were suffering from shock.”
Tessa closed her eyes. Some hours later, a noise woke her up. It was dark outside. She noticed a shadow in front of the window: the dog was standing there growling. Still groggy from sleep, she sat up and listened. Rustling near the house, followed by renewed growling. She got up, went to the window, and opened it. Wet, cold air hit her in the face. She listened. Nothing.
But after a few moments, she heard a muffled stamping, as if somebody was running away on soft ground. The dog darted to the door. She closed the window and looked at the husky.
“You can’t go out yet, my old pal. It’s much too early.” The dog wagged his tail.
She could hear a voice on the other side of the door.
“Tessa, are you awake?” Her father. She let him in.
“I heard something when I was in the bathroom,” he whispered.
“Dad, I think somebody was sneaking around the house. It made the dog growl.” Her father closed the door and sat down on the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp. In the light he looked pale like a ghost.
Tessa went back to the window. “Should we go out and look?”
Her father remained sitting. “Whoever or whatever that was out there, it’s gone by now.”
“Do you think we’re in danger?”
He shrugged. She understood: She could no longer expect him to have all the answers. Now he depended on her, the lawyer. She sat down next to him so that she could whisper her words. “We have to be careful. Nosy people are going to show up here. The media. Wannabe detectives.”
Her father nodded resignedly. “Martha has to be kept out of all this. She is sleeping deeply right now. The pills are working.”
“You are giving her pills?”
“She won’t take any voluntarily, so I mix them with her tea.”
“Dad, you can’t do that!” Tessa was incensed.
He looked at her sadly. “I don’t want her to do anything to herself, Squirrel.”
“Has she been talking about suicide?”
“No.”
“Dad, I think Mom is perfectly capable of deciding for herself.” Tessa felt her blood pressure rising.
Her father’s voice sounded defensive. “I just want to help her. Go back to bed, Squirrel. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
After her father had left, dark thoughts ran through her head. Why was Fran’s blood-smeared jacket—if it really was hers—found in Whitesand Bay of all places? Did her parents think, in their despair, that there was a connection between Jenny Dole’s death and Fran’s disappearance? Could it have any connection with the murders on the farm?
Before she went back to bed, she took the pistol out of her purse. It was a small gun that was easy to hold. A Sig Sauer P320 she had gotten a license for because she had received death threats after a trial. Back then she had realized what a dangerous life she was leading. She put the pistol, which she hid in the purse, on the nightstand.
But she stayed awake for a long time. She could not forget the terrible things she had seen in the morgue. She put her laptop in front of her and wrote down everything that came into her mind. It was only as dawn broke that she fell into an uneasy slumber, and in her dream she was being hunted down by Tsaytis Chelin.
13
A long-legged wolf spider climbed high up the wall. It was as big as a baby’s outstretched hand.
“We don’t usually see them this early,” Dana Eckert remarked as she placed a glass over the spider, which ran around in its prison. “Please give me some paper from my scrap pile.” She pointed at a wastebasket next to the chimney.
Tessa reached for an envelope that had a stamp of a blossoming Pacific dogwood tree in the corner. The handwriting on the envelope seemed familiar to her, but she had no time to think about it. Dana pushed the envelope carefully under the glass and walked with it to the balcony door. A quick swing with her hand catapulted the unwanted visitor into the garden. The envelope landed back in the wastebasket.
“I’ll make some tea for you.” She turned on the kettle in the open kitchen and fumbled around in the cabinets.
Tessa took a quick look at her cell phone. Boyd Shenkar’s name appeared. She had asked him for information about Ron Halprin. Boyd had sent her a text message. He is very good, but don’t mention my name with Halprin. I successfully defended a client Halprin had investigated for years. The client received only two years’ jail time. The crown council had asked for twelve. Halprin must have been really mad about that. But now you have him on your side. Make sure you keep him there.
Dana turned to her. She had a short and stylish haircut. Even though she was fifty-nine and had had a very difficult job as a social worker, Tessa couldn’t see many gray hairs on her head. A lot of people took her for a Sitklat’l, but her ancestors had actually come from southern Italy. Not only was her skin olive-colored, but she had also inherited a great love of cooking. Despite her substantial figure, Dana was quick on her feet.
She raised her expressive eyes to Tessa and asked: “How do you manage to stand up straight, my poor little child? I know you’re going through hell right now.”
Tessa rubbed her fingers together and sighed: “I’ve become a robot, Dana. No feelings, just cold blood.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Last evening I went to sleep immediately. Something woke me up, I lay awake for a long time, but at some point I went back to sleep again. That’s just not normal.”
With her strong hands, Dana poured hot water into a teapot. She had brewed strong tea from medicinal herbs and grasses, a mixture Tessa had often drunk at Dana’s.
“What do you mean by ‘normal’ here? You’re trying to protect yourself, Tessa. You’re shoving it into different drawers so that you can keep functioning. You want to keep functioning because you want to find Fran. And because you have to help your parents.” She put two teacups on the table. “Sit down, my love. Otherwise you’re going to fall like a sick bird from a tree.“
Tessa followed her suggestion. With Dana she didn’t have to play the role of a tough lawyer from Vancouver. They had known each other too long for that. But she didn’t tell her friend what she had seen in the morgue. She didn’t want to talk about it. Instead she said: “That’s something Dad was able to do, too, cut himself off . . . But now, he seems to be falling apart. Last night when someone was sneaking around the house, he didn’t even want to go outside to see what was going on.”
“What actually happened last night?”
Tessa gave her the details as far as she could remember them. She didn’t mention the pistol on the nightstand.
Dana opened the honey jar. “You’re lucky to have the dogs. They’re on guard when you’re sleeping.”
But they couldn’t protect Hank and the children. Somebody had locked them up.
Lost in her thoughts, she stirred her tea. “I just hope that the police find Fran soon. Do you have any idea where she might be? Or why she was at the hospital on Monday?”
“Of course I heard about that. I talked to a few nurses. But they’re sticking together because of the police investigation.”
“When was the last time you talked to Fran? Have the police talked with you?”
“No, they haven’t, but it’s just a matter of time. Fran visited me in April when she was in Whatou Lake.” Dana’s colorful earrings jiggled as she spoke.
“The police already know that. Did she say anything unusual? Did you notice anything?”
“Drink the tea, sweetie. It’ll help you.” Dana touched her on the shoulder. “Fran and I, we talked about the dam on Grouse River. She wanted to convince me to support the complaint she was putting in
against the government.”
“I didn’t even know she was protesting against the dam. She . . . that doesn’t affect her at all. Grouse Valley is a long way from here.”
“She actually wanted to move to Grouse Valley,” Dana blurted out.
Tessa looked at her in disbelief. “Did she say that to you?”
Dana nodded. “She wanted to buy a farm there and get involved in agriculture.”
Tessa had trouble digesting this information. “But Hank, he had his job at Watershed Lodge. He liked it there. Did he also want . . . ?”
“That I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
Tessa shook her head. “Buy another farm? They don’t have the money to do that.” She had often given fairly large sums to Fran in order to help her get by. But she didn’t want to tell Dana about that. Fran wouldn’t want her to.
Tessa took some big sips. The familiar tea aroma calmed her a little. Dana had offered to go with her out to Fran’s farm to pick up the cats. She had driven Tessa to Whatou Lake in the morning, but when she had stopped in front of the Griffins’ house to pick Tessa up, Dana had refused to leave the car. Tessa found that strange.
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” she asked, although she really needed Dana.
“Of course. We’ll take my pickup. And my ATV is still on the back of the truck. That might be really useful, and I have cat cages, too.”
Ten minutes later they left Whatou Lake. The early summer sun cast a pleasant shine on the wet grass. Drops of water glistened on the new blades. It must have rained in the night. It occurred to Tessa that they might be able to find some footprints around her parents’ house. Traces of the nightly invader. She felt the impulse to turn around and check it out. Too late.
The air was clear and the wooded flanks of the mountains seemed very close. The coastal range rose on both sides of the valley. Their peaks were still snow-covered, their green rocky spurs looked like animal claws that wanted to grab the narrow plane. Every time Tessa came back after a long absence from Whatou Lake, she realized how wild and overwhelming the landscape was here. During her last visit she climbed with her father to the top of Whatou Falls, which roared down four hundred meters into a huge ravine. From the dizzyingly high plateau, she could see forest, forest, and still more forest. With her father, Tessa had sat down on the rocky outcropping of the cliff wall not far from the abyss and taken in the depth and width of the ravine and the intimidating beauty of nature. It took her breath away. Nevertheless she had left all this behind her.
MURDEROUS MORNING: A heart-stopping crime novel with a stunning end. Page 7
