Finally, her cell phoned signaled reception, and she called an ambulance. She also called Ron Halprin and told him about Lionel’s injury and the arrival of the two Sitklat’l. Then she informed him about her remarkable find.
A short pause followed after she had finished her report. “We’ve also found something,” she heard Halprin say, after what seemed an eternity, and the tone of his voice made her think that it wasn’t good news. “Your pistol.”
23
There was one thing about Savannah that Tessa had to admit. She did not hold grudges. Or maybe she found it best to not play games with Tessa. “I’ll drive you to the police station,” she offered right away, when Tessa told her the pistol had been found. On the way to Whatou Lake, a red Mazda Miata passed them from the other direction.
“Wow, you’re back already,” Cindy noted as she stopped and Savannah also rolled down her window. “Where are the others?” she asked. “Where’s Lionel?”
Tessa and Savannah exchanged glances. Cindy obviously didn’t know anything. They had forgotten to call Lionel’s wife and tell her what had happened. Savannah cleared it all up and ended with: “We ran ahead and called the ambulance. And the police.”
“Why didn’t anybody call me?”
“Well, we forgot. We’re in a big hurry, Cindy. The police want to speak with Tessa as soon as possible.”
Tessa would have preferred for Savannah to skip that part, since Cindy dug right in.
“Why do the police want to talk with Tessa? Is there news?”
“No idea. They’re talking with a lot of people. Weren’t they also at your place?”
Cindy ignored Savannah’s question. “When will the group with Lionel arrive?”
“It’ll take a little while. Maybe an hour. So long.” Savannah waved and stepped on the gas. “She doesn’t exactly look very unhappy,” she remarked after they had put some kilometers behind them.
Tessa looked over at her in surprise.
“I don’t understand you. Cindy didn’t look pleased at all.”
“Lionel can’t take part in the search for Fran anymore. She’ll certainly be happy about that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cindy keeps him on a short leash. She always wants to know what he’s up to.”
Tessa turned off the music Savannah always had on.
“I’m surprised that Cindy didn’t pack her bags and get out of here a long time ago.”
“Why should she? She’s got everything she needs here. Her own shop, a nice house, and girlfriends like Lola Dole. And she might just go into politics.”
“What? Cindy? You can’t be serious?”
Savannah gave her a sideways glance. “Aren’t you in favor of women getting involved in politics?”
Tessa didn’t answer. She’d had enough of Savannah’s annoying quips. Deep down she was still furious at her about the Hank comment. It was Savannah who had spread the rumors about a fling between Hank and Tessa, after he had begun popping up with increasing frequency at the Griffins’ home. In reality, he wasn’t at all interested in Tessa, but Fran was a different matter. The two of them were perfectly happy to have people believe that Tessa was the object of Hank’s desire, as this meant they didn't have to put up with Hank’s parents, who would have certainly forbidden him to visit the Griffins if they had gotten wind of Hank’s real love interest, Fran. This also had positive implications for Tessa: nobody cared about her growing attraction to Tsaytis Chelin.
At some point, Savannah must have figured out that Hank and Fran were a couple. She began to spread the story that Fran had stolen Hank from Tessa. For Fran, that made it even more difficult to be accepted as Hank’s girlfriend. Kenneth and Martha Griffins were the only ones who showed full support for the two of them, when the relationship was no longer a secret.
Later on Tessa often asked herself how her parents would have reacted if their only biological daughter had shown up one day hand-in-hand with Tsaytis Chelin. Martha and Kenneth were very interested in the Sitklat’l culture. But would they have advised her against such a relationship? Would they have warned her about the social and cultural barriers? Tessa didn’t have to deal with that, because suddenly Tsaytis didn’t want to have anything more to do with the world of the whiteys. He had found himself a First Nations girlfriend. Neither he nor Tessa could have imagined that the bond of friendship between them would nevertheless survive. Until it came to the big fight.
“Tessa, are you listening to me?” Savannah’s voice sounded irritated. “Should I wait for you here? Or should I pick you up somewhere later?”
They were at the police station. “No, no, I will . . . find someone who’ll give me a lift,” Tessa replied.
Once again she regretted not having made a reservation for a rental car at the airport. But the events of the last days had simply overwhelmed her. This was already her third day at Whatou Lake.
Tessa opened the car door and got out. “Thanks,” she said, as she hurried up the stairs to the police station. It was only when she reached Halprin’s office that she realized how dirty her pants were. When she saw the sergeant leaning on his desk with a big mug of coffee, her dark thoughts flew away. An unexpected feeling of warmth overpowered her. His shirt was rumpled and his pants were covered with dirt, just like hers. The poor guy had probably been up all night working. She could tell from looking at his light-blue eyes though that he didn’t miss a thing. His gaze velcroed onto her.
He pointed at the chair as he sat down across from her and measured her carefully.
“Let’s begin. What did you find?”
She pulled out the plastic bag with the cat collar from her fanny pack and put it down in front of him. “This belonged to the cat we haven’t been able to find. Rosie. Look here. Her name is written on it.”
“Where did you find it?”
“On the trail to Whitesand Bay, maybe ten minutes from the trailhead. I think there are bloodstains on it.”
He turned the bag around in his hand and then looked again directly at her. “Who was there when you found it?”
“Nobody. I . . . Later Savannah came. Savannah Cutter. I was running ahead to alert the ambulance.”
He turned the bag over, checking it out. Then looked at her again. “So there were no witnesses?”
She shook her head. When he looked at her like that, she became uneasy, which irritated and confused her at the same time. “Remarkable, isn’t it, to find this cat collar in the woods?”
“Yes, I can’t make heads or tails of this. Unless someone wants to lead us on a wild goose chase. The cat could not have gotten there on her own.” He said it thoughtfully.
She frowned. Halprin was, of course, right. It was just the way how he worded it that made her nervous. “Do you think somebody let it drop on purpose right where I found it, to put us on the wrong track?”
“It’s a possibility. How do you explain it?”
She hesitated, then took the offensive. “Do you think it’s a possibility that I might have done it?”
“Wouldn’t you think it possible, if you were in my place?” he answered.
“Theoretically not. But after thinking about it thoroughly, yes.”
What kind of discussion had she gotten into? He didn’t take notes about what she had said and there was no video camera running. Colleagues came in and out of the room, but none of them sat down.
“We are thorough; you don’t have to worry about that.” He took a piece of paper in his hand and put on a pair of glasses. Suddenly she found him changed. Even more attractive.
“I'm not at all worried about myself, sergeant . . . Ron. I’m worried about Fran. Can you tell me anything new?”
He took off the glasses again. “Why were you carrying a pistol when you met Telford Reed in Tennigan Park?”
She pushed her hair out of her face. It felt damp. The police had already questioned Reed. “I got a pistol two years ago because after one of my trials, which had led to a guilty ver
dict, I received death threats. I have a valid gun license.”
Halprin supported his arm against the armrest, resting his chin in his left hand. “That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Is that so unusual? Here in Whatou Lake there are plenty of people who run around with a gun. Many of them have a rifle in their pickup.”
“But this is not hunting season.”
She sank down into her chair. “I feel more secure when I have one with me, after everything that has happened around here.”
“You’re afraid of Telford Reed?”
“I hardly know Mr. Reed, and we were meeting in an isolated place.”
“Did you make use of the gun?”
She would have liked to know what Reed had told the police. “Yes, a grizzly was threatening us, and I fired shots into the air to drive him off. You must know the rest from Mr. Reed.”
“The rest?”
“That we discovered a moose carcass.”
“Did that surprise you?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. Especially here. And as you correctly pointed out, this is not hunting season.”
“Was Telford Reed surprised?”
She tried to figure out why he asked this question. Was it all about Reed or about her?
“I had the impression that he was surprised. He told me that they had found such cadavers in other places, where people were often present. Tourists.”
“When did you realize that your pistol was missing?”
“Last night. I was already home and I noticed it then. I thought I had it in my jacket pocket, but it wasn’t there. I searched through my car and didn’t find it there, either.”
“Did anybody else have access to your car?”
“Savannah took the dogs out of it. I asked her later, but she hadn’t seen anything. At least that’s what she told me. This morning I drove out to Tennigan Park again because I suspected that the pistol could have fallen out of my pocket at the parking area. But you must know that already from the ranger.”
“From the ranger?” An almost unnoticeable change in the tone of his voice told her that she had just told Halprin something new.
“The ranger’s pickup came toward me on the main road. Early in the morning, before eight o’clock. I assumed that Telford Reed had called him about the bear.”
Ron Halprin didn’t say anything, but he squinted.
“Whatever,” she continued. “Before Telford and I reached the parking spot last night, after we ran into the grizzly, I still had the pistol in my pocket, I’m sure of that. This morning I couldn’t see it in the park. Can you tell me where you found it?”
“First one more piece of information: We need your fingerprints.”
“How come?”
“Purely routine.”
Her stomach tensed. This schemozzle she had brought upon herself. “Who found the pistol, Ron, and where?”
“We seized it from someone who had taken it illegally. That’s all that I can tell you at the moment.” He shoved his writing pad closer. “I would like to know why you met with Telford Reed in the park.”
After briefly hesitating, she gave him the information he wanted: “Mr. Reed told me about his meeting with Fran. And that he had informed the police about it. It would be nice if I got that kind of information from you. Didn’t you promise me transparency?”
The sergeant leaned forward and put his hands together. “We promised to support each other, you may remember. Part of that means that you don’t keep any information from me that might be important. Just what is important, I decide—not you.”
“For example?”
He could have angrily replied to this question, but he didn’t let himself be provoked. His calmness impressed her.
“Did Fran have health problems?” he asked.
Naturally he already knew the answer, she suspected. “Sometimes she seemed depressed. Sometimes she went to the cabin on Beaver Lake all by herself. Hank built the cabin for her.”
“Who looked after the kids, then?” She figured he also knew the answer to that.
“Dana Eckert, as far as I know.”
He lifted his eyebrows. She wondered what he made of her answers.
She went on: “A couple of months ago, she apparently withdrew somewhat from my parents. Before that, she had had a very close relationship with them, especially with my mother. But recently it seems that there had been a nasty argument between the two of them. I haven’t been able to find out yet what it was about.”
Halprin moved his hand along the edge of the table and said smoothly: “Now, about that cabin on Beaver Lake. Our people were there first. The bear showed up before they could lock up the cabin with a chain. They had to escape from the grizzly. A mistake on our side.”
“Did you search for the weapon?”
“We searched the cabin thoroughly. We knocked on the floor planks and found a weapon.”
“Was it the murder weapon?”
“No.”
She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds.
Once again she heard his voice: “So you think that Fran Miller could be the killer?”
She quickly responded: “No, just like you don’t.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Because if you did, you’d warn the public about her.”
He didn’t take the bait. She didn’t let up. “You’ve been watching one or more suspects, right?” She hoped that was the case.
He didn't say anything. His fingers were playing with the corner of the writing pad. It occurred to her that she might be one of those being watched.
Halprin looked up. “Did Fran Miller ever meet anyone at the cabin?”
“I doubt it. It was her private retreat. Only in the summer the family would meet together there sometimes.”
“And she was ever in the cabin with you?”
“Only once. That was just after it had been built and she wanted to show it to me. We didn’t stay there long.”
”But she could have met someone there and nobody else would have known?”
“Why do you ask that, Ron?”
“Did Fran have an affair with another man?”
“No, no.” Tessa shook her head. “What gives you that idea?”
“We follow up on all the gossip. So you’ve never had any such suspicion?”
“No, never.” Gossip. She was upset. Did Hank’s parents spread these kinds of rumors around?
Halprin didn’t spend much time on the topic. Suddenly he was more interested in the events during the search near Whitesand Bay.
“Exactly what happened?”
He listened carefully to her description. Occasionally he took down some notes and drank some coffee.
“Were Savannah and Lionel alone when the shot went off? Or did the young Sitklat’l men see what happened?”
“As far as I know, nobody else saw it.” She felt she was being squeezed like a lemon of all her energy and would have given a lot for a mug of coffee, like the one Halprin had for himself.
He didn’t look as if he was planning on ending his interrogation very soon.
“Is there anything else you know that you think might be helpful to us?”
She made every effort to dig around in her recollections and shifted her eyes in various directions, as if she might come up with something somewhere.
Of course there was still something. She could no longer hide it. She had to stop protecting her parents. There was only one person who had to have protection now: Fran.
“My mother . . . She made a comment to me. She said it didn’t surprise her that Fran’s jacket was found at Whitesand Bay. Fran was looking for proof there, Mom said. Somebody interrupted us just then, and I haven’t had the chance to talk to her again.”
He scribbled on his writing pad. When he looked at her, something had changed in his face. She couldn’t have said what it was. The brief moment dissolved. Halprin tapped on the table with his pencil. “Is that everything?”
“I would like to know when the autopsy report will be made public.”
“The forensic team is still working on it. They will certainly announce it when the report is made public.”
“And the police still won’t say who was with Tsaytis Chelin when the bodies were discovered?”
“No.”
Disappointed, Tessa remained silent.
Ron Halprin leaned back, with his hands on the arms of the chair. “Good, then let’s take care of the fingerprinting.”
Suddenly she recoiled: She had handled the cat collar without gloves.
24
“What should I do? What would you recommend?”
Tessa sat on a bench in the little green space that lay right in front of the monument for the World War II veterans from Whatou Lake. After the conversation with Ron Halprin, she had come here where she could talk quietly on the phone with her business partner, Boyd Shenkar.
“For the moment there’s nothing that you have to do here,” Boyd said. “You informed him about the missing pistol. You told him that you had touched the cat collar by mistake. Halprin is no dummy. But just who is this Telford Reed?”
“He holds the outfitter license for the Watershed area. He wants me to help the Sitklat’l by convincing the British Columbia government to give them some financial support to buy the license.” She suppressed the memory of Telford’s calming embrace after the run-in with the aggressive bear.
“What was your answer?”
“That I didn’t feel I was in a position to discuss this option with him.”
A lady with two small children approached the bench and kept looking at Tessa. The insatiable nosiness of bored residents in small towns. Tessa got up and tried to find some protection behind the veterans’ memorial, which was engraved with the names of the fallen soldiers. A dozen names—that was a lot for the tiny village of Whatou Lake back then.
“Still no sign of Fran . . . or the murderer?”
MURDEROUS MORNING: A heart-stopping crime novel with a stunning end. Page 14
