by L E Fraser
For the first time, Reece began to wonder if they were lying, or at least exaggerating. Credit card companies generally have excellent anti-fraud systems in place, and Reece had no idea how anyone could access a fifty-thousand-dollar line of credit without the bank’s involvement.
“That’s when we suspected it wasn’t Jordan,” Eric told him.
“Who did you think it was?”
“His mother,” Sally said bitterly. “You see, everything with Jordan happened after she came to my classroom and wanted to take Jordanna out of school in the middle of the day. She caused a terrible scene, screaming accusations about Jordan and threatening me. I had to call security. The next day, I talked to Jordan about what happened and offered to set up an appointment with the school psychologist so he could talk out his feelings.”
“I take it therapy didn’t interest him,” Reece said.
Sally laughed weakly. “He freaked out, claiming I was gossiping about his business. He was cold as ice when he told me no one made a fool out of him.”
“Jordan’s smart,” Eric added. “But it’s hard to believe he’s as smart as his mother.”
Brenda didn’t strike Reece as smart. “What makes you think Brenda is intellectually gifted?”
They stared at him.
Okay, he’d try a different approach. “What was the issue around Brenda taking her daughter out of class?”
They studied each other with mouths ajar.
Bewildered by their reaction, Reece asked, “What’s the problem?”
“Brenda Harris isn’t their mother,” Sally said.
Reece was so stunned he couldn’t respond.
“How come you don’t know that?” Eric asked with suspicion. “She’s their stepmother.”
“What?” Reece sputtered. “Who’s their mother?”
“Caitlyn Franklyn,” Sally answered, looking confused.
“Caitlyn Franklyn,” Reece echoed. Why hadn’t Roger or Brenda told them? This was outrageous.
“She’s a frightening woman and deeply disturbed,” Sally said with a shudder. “I don’t know the details, but Graham Harris had a restraining order against her. That’s why I couldn’t let her take Jordanna.”
“I did some digging,” Eric said eagerly. “I found an online newspaper article. MIT in Cambridge gave her a full scholarship when she was sixteen. She’s a technology prodigy. That’s why we figured she hacked our computer. You see, her background was in a piece the Toronto Sun ran seven years ago during her trial.”
“Her trial?” Reece repeated.
“She served four years for manslaughter,” Eric said as though Reece were a bit slow. “She killed her own mother. How is it you don’t know this?”
Reece was livid. Why hadn’t Roger told them? It was impossible that Brenda hadn’t mentioned her husband’s murderous ex-wife to her lover. He felt like an utter idiot. Worse, this news left him completely unprepared to continue the interview. Reece took a deep breath and tried to centre himself.
“Were the police involved?” he asked. “I mean when Caitlyn came to the school.” If there was a peace bond against an ex-con, surely the school had called the cops. Reece figured he could follow up and get the incident report. It would list an address for Caitlyn Franklyn.
“I don’t know how the administration handled it,” Sally said. “But we involved the police.”
“You called the police because of what happened at the school?” Reece asked.
Sally shook her head. “We called them when… when she killed our dog, Betsy. But the police didn’t believe us.” She hung her head and wiped at tears that coursed down her cheeks.
Reece was completely confused. “Caitlyn Franklyn killed your dog,” he repeated. “How did you know it was her?”
“Our neighbour saw a woman enter the backyard when we were out,” Eric explained. “She wore a Toronto Hydro uniform, but we all have SMART meters. They don’t come onto the property anymore. Our neighbour assumed it was a problem with the electronic meter. I showed him a picture of Caitlyn I found online. He said it looked like the Hydro worker.”
“What happened to the dog?” Reece asked.
“She poisoned her.” Sally buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook. “The vet said it was in Betsy’s water dish.”
After a momentary hesitation, he asked Eric, “What was it?” Reece knew what the answer would be and mentally braced himself.
“Antifreeze,” Eric said.
Chapter Twenty
Sam
“SO I SPOKE with Detective Alston, the lead on Graham’s homicide.” Reece shoved his plate to the centre of the table and rubbed his face with his hands.
“And?”
“York Police have a history with Eric and Sally Alistair. The incident about leaving the baby in the car isn’t the way Eric told it.”
“Oh?”
She popped another cream cheese wonton in her mouth. Reece used lemon thyme and a ton of herbs, along with lemon zest and hot peppers. They were deep-fried, golden bits of decadent deliciousness. Sam had a huge weakness for anything deep-fried.
“The officer spotted the baby alone in a car,” Reece explained. “He had to look for a parent and found Eric in a convenience store, chatting up a pretty clerk. Eric was belligerent, told the officer to mind his own business, and tried to leave.”
“Okay,” Sam said, “that’s worrisome. Did they say anything about Jordan?”
Reece grabbed an open bottle of wine from the table and poured a second glass. She shook her head when he offered her the bottle.
“Two incident reports on file, but against Eric,” he said. “Both times, he showed up at the Harris farm threatening Jordan. The second was the most serious. It was right after the fire. Graham said he understood the man’s frustration and declined to press charges. Cops released Eric with a warning.”
She mulled it over. Understanding that Reece was very upset over how the interview had gone, she picked her words carefully. “It could be Eric’s perception of the events is skewed. It doesn’t mean he lied with intent. During severe conflict, people’s natural reaction is to be defensive and self-righteous.”
“Well, Jordan couldn’t have set the fire,” Reece said in aggravation. “His dad took him to Chicago to watch the Bears play. Graham gave police a credit card receipt for the hotel room, plus pictures in the locker room with the team.” He took a sip of his wine.
“How about the incident at the school?” she asked.
“Cops aren’t stupid,” he said sharply and put his wineglass on the table with deliberate force. “They did a thorough investigation and understood the cultural and familial ramifications for the girl.”
She didn’t appreciate his snotty tone and was about to snap at him when she noticed the dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. Reece was still recovering, physically and emotionally, from the poisoning. This case was personal for him now. He had the right to be discouraged.
“Didn’t find anything to support the teacher’s claim, eh?”
He rolled his eyes. “The football coach said he and Jordan were together until after seven o’clock. According to him, the week before, Sally had marched onto the field and argued with Jordan. Coach was crossing the field when he saw her hit Jordan and storm off. That’s the record of inappropriate physical discipline that motivated the Board of Education to terminate her employment.”
“Would the coach lie?”
Reece shrugged. “Maybe. He made racist comments about the alleged rape victim in his statement. He went on to joke—get this—that Muslim women wear too much clothing for anyone to bother trying to rape them.” He shook his head in disgust. “Besides, the coach is a huge Argonauts fan and might lie to protect Graham’s son. Also, without Jordan, the Lions didn’t have a chance at winning the season.”
Sam was skeptical. “Canadian high school football isn’t a big deal like it is in the States. Tough to believe a gym teacher would lie about rape.” She thought about it. “In
addition to being a racist, maybe he’s a misogynist who doesn’t consider rape a real crime.”
“In his statement to police, he said, and I quote, ‘Alistair’s a flirty bird looking for a tickle.’” Reece sighed and swirled the wine around his glass. “But the thing is, I spoke with Jordan’s other teachers. Everyone liked him. They said he’s a nice kid with a bit of attitude, but they couldn’t fathom him raping a girl. They never witnessed any inappropriate conduct around younger kids.” He gulped down the last of his wine. “In fact, Jordan tutors grade nine kids in math and chemistry and mentors rookie players during a summer football camp the high school runs.”
“But you can’t think the Alistair family poisoned their own dog.”
“No, but their neighbours had plenty of negative things to say about the dog barking.”
Sam clenched her hands into fists. “Meaning a neighbour could have poisoned the dog.” The idea of someone killing an animal because of the owner’s irresponsibility infuriated her.
“Eric Alistair is a difficult man, apparently. He complains about everything,” Reece said. “If someone puts their garbage out on the curb too early in the day, Eric is over banging on their door. He sounds like a total dick.”
“Did you find the guy who identified Caitlyn in the Hydro uniform?” she asked.
“The neighbour claims Eric was aggressive so he told him what he wanted to hear. What he told me was that he didn’t get a good enough look at the Hydro worker to make a positive identification. The woman he remembers was blond and had a nice figure. It could be her, but it could be a hundred other women. The thing is Caitlyn has no motive to kill me, and where’s her opportunity? I’ve never seen her before.”
“Well, the court did convict her of manslaughter,” Sam said. “I checked after you called this afternoon. She killed her mother.”
“Geez,” Reece muttered.
“Dolores Franklyn attacked Jennifer with a knife. She believed the devil had possessed her granddaughter. Jennifer was nine, I think. From the transcripts, it doesn’t sound like Caitlyn had any option. Dolores had a documented history of mental instability. Police had charged her twice for aggravated assault, and she’d spent two years in a psychiatric hospital.”
“Why wasn’t it self-defence?” Reece asked.
“Because Caitlyn tested positive for heroin and stabbed Dolores fourteen times.”
“Excessive force.” Reece shook his head in confusion. “But if Dolores had a record of aggression, a good attorney could argue the situation required Caitlyn to protect her child. Panic and maternal instinct rendered her incapable of computing stop force. Something’s not adding up here.”
“My best guess is the drug angle influenced the judge,” Sam said. “Caitlyn made a full confession, didn’t appeal the sentence, or apply for parole. She offered Graham an uncontested divorce and gave him full custody of the kids. Grand Valley said she was an exemplary inmate. She taught computer courses, and, after her release, she volunteered at the prison twice a month to finish teaching the program.”
“Eric made the mother’s death out to be a vicious attack on an innocent person by a deranged woman.” Reece shook his head. “Nothing Sally or Eric told me is credible.”
Sam eyed the last wonton. She’d already eaten six, but it looked so lonely sitting there on that big plate.
“If Eric didn’t dig deep enough, he would only have read biased articles.” An extra half hour at the gym would balance the pig-out, she decided. She snagged the wonton. “Matricide should attract media attention, but there was surprisingly little, outside of a tabloid story that sensationalized the mother-daughter angle. That’s probably what Eric read,” she mumbled through a full mouth. “I don’t think Eric’s crappy research skills means he’s a calculated liar.”
When Reece didn’t reply she added, “The details about the self-defence angle didn’t come out until the sentencing hearing, which, by the way was unusually brisk. I doubt a regular citizen like Eric would know how to get their hands on court transcripts.”
“Maybe,” Reece muttered unconvincingly. “Why do you say the case was handled fast?”
“I dropped by Jim’s office, gave him a rundown on the research I did on Caitlyn’s trial, and asked his legal opinion,” Sam said. “He felt confused by how quickly the court prosecuted Caitlyn and also by the harshness of the sentence.” She shrugged. “A public defender represented her, so Jim figured the kid lacked experience.”
“Did you find out anything about the restraining order Sally claimed Graham had against Caitlyn?” Reece asked.
“Yeah, he filed it six months after her release, about two and a half years ago.”
“So she was in breach when she went to the school thirteen months ago,” Reece said. “At least Sally didn’t lie about that. Why did he want a restraining order?”
“Don’t know. I meant to ask Jim’s law clerk to pull the paperwork but forgot. I’ll follow up tomorrow.”
“Did you talk to Roger?” Reece demanded harshly. “What’s his lame excuse for lying this time?” He pursed his lips together in dislike.
“Brenda never mentioned not being the kids’ biological mother. She’s thirty-five, and Roger assumed that the twins were a high school pregnancy, which explained—to him at least—why she never attended post-secondary school.”
“Right, Roger never asked his lover how long she’d been married,” Reece said sarcastically and shook his head in disbelief, implying Sam was a moron eagerly lapping up Roger’s ridiculous lies.
“Enough with the attitude,” she said sharply. “I get that you’re frustrated, but it’s not implausible that a man who’s committing adultery wasn’t keen on drilling his lover about her marriage. Come on, Reece.”
“Convenient,” he murmured.
Sam sighed and poured another glass of wine, not bothering to offer the bottle to Reece. She took a deep breath and then shoved the bottle over to his side of the table. Just because Reece was taking his bad mood out on her wasn’t licence for her to act childish.
“Anyway,” she continued in a pleasant tone, hoping to defuse the tension, “Roger was very shocked over the news. I asked him not to mention Caitlyn to Brenda or the kids. I’d like to spring it on them and find out why they didn’t tell us.”
Reece snorted in disgust. “I’m sure he called Brenda and spilled the beans.” He smirked at her. “How about the pants that mysteriously disappeared? What about those?”
Sam ground her teeth together and ignored his snotty tone. “I picked them up yesterday. We should have the lab results in a few days.”
She refrained from voicing her doubts about whether they were the same pants. Tan khakis were tan khakis. Roger could have destroyed the pants Jordan described to police and bought a new pair to submit for testing. All he’d have to do would be to have a random dry cleaner run them through the chemical process to ensure the lab found dry cleaning solvents. That would account for the delay in getting the pants to her.
“What about the DNA test?” Reece demanded. “Has he done it? I’d like to honour Abigail’s final wish by helping Talia to get closure. I’d like to feel anything but incompetent.” He slapped his hand hard against the table. “We should have known about Caitlyn Franklyn. We shouldn’t have trusted Roger.”
Sam knew Roger wouldn’t do the test until they found something in Graham’s murder to exonerate him. Looking at Reece’s angry, judgemental face, she understood where Roger was coming from—didn’t agree with it, but understood.
She disregarded Reece’s question and asked one of her own. “About the money Brenda borrowed from Roger that she told us was to settle a property issue, did you find out anything?”
He laughed. “Big surprise, Brenda lied. An alleged dispute involving the Harris family surprised every neighbour.”
She thought about it. “Maybe the person doesn’t live there now. Did anyone sell their house since the Harris family moved?”
He nodded. “Two. I spok
e with one and they didn’t even know Graham Harris. The other relocated to Singapore with her daughter last year. The woman’s a real estate attorney and lived at the end of the street. Sam, there’s no way she had a property dispute with Graham Harris. Brenda’s a liar.”
“Or Graham lied to her to get the money.” She cleared the plates from the table and leaned against the sink.
“Any luck finding an address on Caitlyn?” Reece asked.
“The cops did follow up with Caitlyn after Sally and Eric filed a complaint. The address they have isn’t current and it’s the same as Corrections had. I can’t find a driver’s licence, a health card, or any tax returns. She’s living off the grid,” Sam said. “I called Behoo. Maybe he can find creative ways to dig where I can’t reach.”
“I’m exhausted,” he said. “Let’s clean up and go to bed.”
Poor Reece, she thought as she herded him to the stairs. “I’ll tidy, you sleep. I’m behind on my case notes so I’ll stay up for a bit.”
He reached for her hand and gave it a little tug. “Leave it, come to bed. I haven’t written up anything.” He tapped his head. “It’s all up here. We can worry about reports later.”
She squeezed his hand gently, then let go. She wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing the kitchen wasn’t clean and orderly. “Just give me half an hour. I’ll be up soon.”
She watched him climb the stairs, feeling bad that he was so disheartened over the case. As he reached the top, she finally asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue all night. “Reece? Did you forget to tell me about Lisa and Jim’s dinner party on Saturday?”
He paused at the top of the stairs with his back turned. “Yeah. Sorry.”
He hadn’t forgotten, she knew. An explosion between Lisa and Reece hovered on the horizon. Worse, for some reason Sam didn’t understand, Reece had decided he disliked Jim. She’d had enough. Dinner was the perfect opportunity for everyone to engage in a candid discussion and co-create resolutions.
