“Does the satellite phone in Fran’s house work?”
“I assume so. But if you use it, everybody will know where you are.”
“Just for an emergency.”
“Don’t you want to take Savannah along?”
“No.” Her voice sounded sharper than she meant it to sound. “Didn’t we just agree that we didn’t want other people to know?”
“Okay, okay,” her father said. “You’ve got courage. Take as many photos as you can. I want to know what actually happened there.”
He got up and went back to the stove in the living room. She followed him. They heard Martha’s weakened voice from upstairs, as the fire crackled and popped in the fireplace. She noticed the two cats on the carpet, sitting so close to each other that she couldn’t see any space between them.
“They’re waiting to lie down in front of the stove,” her father explained.
Tessa felt the heat through the glass door of the fireplace. “I’ve learned what happened with Rosie, the third cat. She’s buried in front of Fran’s house. Halprin told me that. Were you aware of this?”
He shook his head. “No. Martha probably doesn’t know about it, either, or she would have mentioned it. Strange. The children certainly would have told their grandma. Rosie was Breena’s cat, I think. Each child had a cat.”
“I found Rosie’s collar on the path to Whitesand Bay.”
“Yes, Savannah told us about that. With blood on it, she said.”
“Yes. I don’t have any idea who could have put it there. Or why.”
Her father looked at the flames. “Whose blood?”
“Halprin didn’t tell me. Surely he knows if it’s human or animal blood.”
“He leaves us very much in the dark, this sergeant.”
“Boyd, my partner in the firm, told me that Halprin is known for that. An unorthodox way of dealing with things, at least at first glance. But Boyd thinks there’s a clever strategy behind it.”
“The RCMP talked to a lot of people.”
They fell silent, lost in their thoughts. Tessa looked into the fire. It threw a flickering light on the floor and walls.
“Harrison must hate you even more,” Tessa mumbled, “because you took the two dogs away.”
He snorted angrily. “I’m sure Glenda is thanking me for that. She would have much rather taken Fran’s chickens if they had survived than Hank’s dogs. She sometimes takes care of Cindy’s little dog, and that’s more than enough for her.”
“Why?”
“I’m sure Glenda cannot understand that Cindy spends all that money on a sick dog. Cindy’s dog needs an insulin injection every day.”
“But we’re not talking about Glenda. We’re talking about Harrison.”
“Harrison’s never home. She would have to take care of the dogs. That’s really something she doesn’t want.”
“She was looking for him today. I ran into her at Cindy’s boutique.”
“Was he there?”
“No, and Cindy had already left.”
“Why was Glenda looking for him there?”
“She says that he often helps Cindy with the bookkeeping.”
“I suspect he’s keeping the store afloat.”
“Why would he do that?”
“So that Cindy doesn’t run away. Whatou Lake isn’t exactly as exciting as Las Vegas.”
“Glenda won’t have any grandchildren anymore.”
She had hardly pronounced these words when she realized she had made a mistake. Breena, Clyde, and Kayley were also her parents’ grandchildren. But it looked like her father hadn’t really grasped what she had said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he countered. “Harrison must have other children all over the place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because he’s that kind of guy, Tessa. A goddamned womanizer.”
An idea formed in her head. Did Fran think Harrison might be her biological father?
Upstairs her mother called: “Tessa, are you back?”
“Yes, Mom.” She went out into the hallway and climbed up the stairs. “I didn’t want to bother you.” Her mother was standing on the steps, wearing pajamas, her arms crossed. A wave of affection rolled over Tessa, and she gave her mother a loving hug.
“Why don’t we sit down together and have a talk, Mom?”
“Gladly, sweetie. But tomorrow would be better. It’s already so late. I was on the phone for hours; I need a break. What did the police want from you?”
Yes, what did Halprin really want from her? “He asked me about Melanie Pleeke and whether she had any enemies.”
“I don’t understand the police. What does that have to do with Fran and Hank and the kids? They should stick to that. Melanie is still alive.” They could hear meowing and clatter from the kitchen.
Tessa pushed her mother’s hair off her face. “He also showed me some of Fran’s drawings and asked some questions about them. I think they’re looking at every detail.”
“They can’t see the forest for the trees, if you ask me.”
“Mom, did you buy the cat collars? At Cindy’s store?”
Her mother looked at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The collars the cats are wearing. I saw them in Cindy’s store. Did you buy them there for the kids?”
“No. What gives you that idea?”
“I’m interested in who bought them. Cindy says Fran had never been in her store.”
Kenneth called from downstairs: “I’m making tea for us, dear.”
“You’re an angel,” his wife answered. With her fingers she pulled at her fluffy pajama top. “Where’s Savannah?”
“She drove into town.” Tessa thought it was better not to mention Melanie Pleeke again.
Her mother took her hand: “Come on, some tea would do you good.”
“I’m going to quickly change clothes, Mom.” She kissed her mother on her left cheek and went into her bedroom.
Outside, dusk was slowly descending on the mountains, valley, and woods. Only dark outlines of the mountaintops could be seen. Tessa turned on the light and closed the curtains.
She hung her new blouses in the closet and changed into comfortable yoga clothes. From downstairs, she heard the door of the wood stove being opened and closed. The cats’ meowing got louder and then died down. They must have gotten their food. Tessa picked up her laptop and answered some emails from friends and relatives, saying only: Thanks for thinking of me. More to follow soon.
By the light of the bedside lamp, she opened one of the electronic folders on her laptop. Photos of her last visit to Fran’s farm. Breena, proudly showing her painted finger nails. Kayley on the ATV with Hank, her small hands on the handlebars, her face delighted. Hank in the kitchen with frozen moose meat he was thawing out for the next day. Clyde next to him, holding a cat. The cat was still without a collar. Fran, who was showing off her herb garden under a grow light. Parsley, basil, mint, and thyme. One photo of her reading Harry Potter to the children.
Fran again, this time feeding the chickens. The bears must have been attracted to the house because of them. Hank wasn’t happy about it, but as always, he accommodated her. In the next photo, they stood together in front of the house, Hank’s arm around Fran’s shoulders, and Fran’s arm around his waist. Fran looked so young with her hippie-style clothes and her straight blond shoulder-length hair. Fran’s pleasant face in the light of the candles on the birthday cake Hank had baked for her. That had been two years ago. When had the shadows begun to fall over their relationship?
Then photos of Clyde’s favorite game. He hid something, and the others had to find it while he gave them tips—hot, warm, and cold—that would lead them to the hiding place. On that day, he hid Tessa’s sunglasses in the chicken coop. Breena found them, thankfully unscratched. She showed her find proudly to the camera, chicken downs in her hair. Tessa couldn’t tear herself away from the pictures. They seemed so valuable now, so irreplace
able.
She heard somebody coming up the stairs. Her father appeared in the doorway with a cup. “You busy bee,” he said, looking at her laptop. Then he noticed her tearstained face. Shaking, he put the cup on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Pictures of my last visit with Fran.” Her words came out distorted.
Her father took her hand. “That’s what I did today, too. Went through the photos. I had to stop because . . . my fury at the murderer was ripping me apart.”
He held her tightly, until she stopped crying. Then he gave her the box of tissues that was on the chest of drawers. Tessa could hear voices from below.
Her father sighed. “Martha’s girlfriend, Jenita. I’ve stopped trying to keep rumors away from her.”
“Mom is stronger than you think, Dad.”
“I hope so, Squirrel; that’s what I hope.”
He picked up the cat that had followed him; the animal squiggled around and he let it go.
“I’m staying in bed,” Tessa sniffled. “I don’t want to visit with people downstairs.”
Her father nodded. “I hope you can sleep tonight. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Do you need a sleeping pill?”
“Just for tonight,” she said. She swallowed what he gave her. He closed the door softly.
She set the alarm on her phone. Then she grabbed her laptop again to close a file. Suddenly she had an idea where she might find Fran’s camera.
She had to get to the farm as quickly as possible.
39
“Kratz isn’t here yet. He had to make an emergency flight to Flat Top Island. I’m really sorry.“ The pilot’s wife looked contrite.
I’m also an emergency, and I paid a lot of money for this flight, Tessa felt like saying. She calmed down, but only after a great effort.
“When will he be back?”
“Try again around ten.”
Two hours. Up until now, everything had been going smoothly. The sleeping pill had worked and the weather was supposed to be good all day. Nobody was sitting in the waiting room, which meant that there wouldn’t be any unwelcome witnesses to her plans.
And now this.
“I’ll be back at ten. Here’s my cell number just in case you need it.” She pushed her business card over the counter.
“I’m really sorry,” the woman said again.
Yeah, me too, Tessa thought.
She left the floatplane dock, uncertain how she should kill the two hours. Her first choice would have been to go by Dana Eckert’s house, but she didn’t want to tell even Dana about her plans. She wanted to be on her own at Fran’s house for at least a couple of hours and hoped she could still do that despite the floatplane’s delay.
She longed for a cup of coffee, but she didn’t feel like meeting the eyes of the early risers at Tim Hortons. Before she realized it, the Pathfinder had reached the outskirts of Whatou Lake. Cindy’s boutique appeared in front of her. She hadn’t planned on driving so far. But the parking lot behind Cindy’s store was out of view, and she could answer emails there.
When Tessa turned the corner to the building, she jammed on the brakes. A pickup and a second car were parked at the end of the lot. She was able to make out two people in the pickup. A woman and a man. The woman was a blonde; her long hair reached her shoulders. They were arguing so loudly that their voices reached her even though the motor was running. The door of the pickup opened and a woman hopped out. Furiously she ripped off the long hair and threw it on the ground.
Tessa held her breath. She recognized the woman. Glenda Miller.
Hank’s mother ran to her car, sat in the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and drove off. Without looking right or left, Glenda roared past her.
Then she heard another door slamming shut. The one belonging to the pickup. Tessa tried to maneuver her car out of the way. Too late. The pickup was already coming right at her. As Harrison Miller drove past, he glanced over to her with a dark and angry look. He didn’t stop.
She sat there, completely stunned. Her car was still running. A couple meters away, she saw something bright lying on the ground. Carefully she drove the Pathfinder over to it and got out.
A blond wig. Shoulder-length straight hair. Like Fran’s hair.
All of a sudden, she realized what the connections were. Of course it wasn’t Fran in Harrison Miller’s pickup that Savannah had seen the day she was cleaning at the Friendly Piggy. It was Glenda, and she had been wearing a blond wig.
Only . . . what kind of a scene were the two of them acting out? Role-playing to keep the sex in their marriage exciting? As a family lawyer, Tessa had heard about so many different sex games that nothing surprised her anymore. She remembered that Cindy sold wigs and hairpieces in her shop. But why did Glenda and Harrison get into a fight—or whatever that was—here? Maybe they thought, as Tessa did, that they wouldn’t be seen.
If Savannah had made the mistake of thinking that woman in the blond wig was Fran when really it was Glenda, then other people would have made the same mistake, too. They would have thought they’d seen Fran in places she hadn’t been.
On impulse Tessa opened her backpack and took out latex gloves and a plastic bag. She didn’t want to make the same mistake she had made with the cat collar and leave her fingerprints on items of potential interest to the police. With the tips of her fingers, she dropped the wig into the bag and carefully put everything in her backpack.
At half past nine, she stood again in the office of Whatou Wings. “He should be back soon, but I don’t know the exact time,” Kratz’s wife said apologetically. “These days there’s so much going on. The managers at the mines sometimes call on very short notice.”
Tessa was running out of patience. “I saw another Beaver down there. Doesn’t it also belong to you? You must have a second pilot.”
The woman frowned. “He’s no longer working for us.” She sounded so dismissive that Tessa didn’t want to pursue the topic. In addition there was another couple waiting, and Tessa didn’t want anyone to hear her conversation. She went outside and turned her face into the weak sun rays that had managed to break through the cloud cover. The Beaver rocked aimlessly at the pier.
Gulls were circling over the cove, and higher up, two bald eagles soared. Somewhere Tessa heard the rumble of a speedboat. A pleasant wind cooled her face, soft as a feather duster. It carried along with it the fishy smell of the water. Everything seemed so peaceful. As if nothing had happened. As if the murders had been only a nightmare from which one could awaken.
A little plane was circling over the harbor and descending until it landed on the water. A DHC-3 Otter putted up to the pier. A man jumped out and tied the plane up to the wooden dock. Kratz Hilder. He waved and she ran over to him. He helped her put the backpack into the storage area and climb into the plane.
“Sorry about the delay,” Kratz shouted over the engine noise. Tessa put on her headphones and seatbelt.
“Good flying weather today.” She heard the pilot’s voice in her headphones. “It looks good for tomorrow as well. We’ll be at Beaver Lake very soon.”
“What caused the delay?” Tessa asked.
“I can’t tell you. Client privilege.”
“So nobody’s going to know where I’m flying, right?”
“No, of course not.”
The Otter sped up and climbed. There were numerous fishing boats below them, like tiny islands in the ocean.
“They can already start fishing in June, while everyone else has to wait until July. And that’s supposed to be fair.” Kratz Hilder sounded mad. Tessa realized right away why he was angry. The Sitklat’l had the right to start fishing earlier than the other fishermen of Whatou Lake as part of the agreement with the government. A treaty Tessa knew to the last detail because she had served as the Sitklat’l’s lawyer in the discussions.
“They were here first, Kratz.” The sentence just flew out of her, although she knew that it was better to keep her mouth shut.
Tessa had often heard this argument from white settlers. At some point she realized that the arguments didn’t matter much. It was really about greed, blindness, domination, racism. She simply had to counter the pilot’s statement: “The Sitklat’l have been living here for at least five thousand years; it’s their land and their traditional fishing grounds. They’ve already lost enough because of us. It’s about time that they gain something.”
She knew that Kratz Hilder was doing a lot of business with the Sitklat’l. The tourist flights from Whatou Lake had to be lucrative for him. On the surface it seemed that Kratz had a terrific relationship with the Sitklat’l. Noreen Chelin’s brother used to work for Kratz. Hilder made sure that the young Sitklat’l had enough flying hours to get a pilot’s license. What had her father said yesterday, when they were talking about Kratz Hilder? He’s got to keep his clients coming.
The Otter made a turn away from the ocean and flew over the coastal mountains into the interior. Through the rain forest below them, the rivers meandered like glittering snakes. Tessa would have liked to ask Kratz whether the overwhelming beauty of the snow-covered peaks and coastal rainforests still fascinated him after so many flights over the millions of trees. There was no end to the dark green and light green and olive green and the lakes between them, which glistened like blue jewels. But Kratz flew into a rage.
“It’s easy for you to talk, Tessa. You must’ve earned a lot of money as the lawyer for the Sitklat’l. This entire Indian aid industry is a sham. People like you don’t have any idea what kind of damage they’re doing. You’re robbing many hardworking, honest people of their existence.”
Tessa listened, dumbfounded. Apparently in Whatou Lake, a disease called envy and resentment had spread much more than she could have realized. She was relieved when long Beaver Lake appeared on the horizon and the plane descended. The pilot prepared for the landing. Tessa realized it was the wrong end of the lake. A long way from Fran’s cabin and even farther from the farm.
MURDEROUS MORNING: A heart-stopping crime novel with a stunning end. Page 26
