Celia’s car had started, but she’d set out early for the sick call. The faces of Leather Vest and Weasel floated into my mind. I sprinted down the drive.
The pavement on Wendy’s drive was as bare as ours. I went up to the front door and pounded on it. Nobody answered. I banged on the door again.
I looked around me. All was quiet and peaceful. A blue jay hopped along the branch of the tree beside the house. Another bird warbled in the woods between the properties. A lovely spring day in the country—except for the thudding of my heart.
I hurried back down the drive, terror building with every step. The bikers had taken away my wheels and my only means of communication with the rest of the world. The three of us would be sitting ducks when they returned. They were convinced that I was working with Al and Ruby, and they were going to make me pay. They’d be back for…Tommy! I raced down the drive, my lungs aching with the exertion.
At the highway, I slowed my pace and took deep breaths. No vehicles were on the road. Get a grip, I told myself. If they’d wanted to hurt me or take Tommy, they would have done it when they immobilized the Volvo and cut the phone line. Maybe they just wanted me to stay at home. But why?
Al and Ruby’s weather-beaten farmhouse flashed into my mind. The grow-op had brought the bikers to the area. I broke into a run again. If Jamie was out there, she would be right in the line of fire. I had to tell Foster where I thought she was even though it would bring Al and Ruby to his attention.
I looked up and down the highway. The closest store was within walking distance but it was closed for the winter. Should I try to hitch a ride into town? I shook my head. I couldn’t leave Farah and Tommy in the house. With a sinking feeling, I realized the snowmobile was my only option. Celia had locked it in the garage after the bikers’ visit, so I figured it was in running order.
I looked at the bare pavement on the highway and its gravel shoulders. I wouldn’t get far on the roads. I turned and looked at the lake, and my pulse began to pound in my throat. I’d have to travel over the lakes into town.
My head told me that the bikers had accomplished what they’d come to the house to do, but I couldn’t shake the fear that they would be back for Tommy. I couldn’t risk anything bad happening to the boy or to Farah. Could I get them to town on the snowmobile?
Back at the house, I took the garage key from the peg beside the front door.
“Kerry is there?” Farah asked.
“No.” I scooped the key to the snowmobile out of the vase on the sideboard where Celia kept it.
In the garage, I removed Molly’s plastic cover. The seat looked big enough for me and two passengers behind me. I inserted the key in the ignition.
I straddled the beast and tried to remember Celia’s lesson. I put my thumb on a lever on the right handlebar. That was the throttle. I pressed it and Molly roared to life. I found the brake lever beside the throttle, then grasped the handlebars. “Turn them the way you would to steer a bike,” Celia had said.
I eased Molly out of the garage and across the bare driveway to the back of the house where there was still a thick blanket of snow on the ground. The lake was a vast, white expanse. I hoped it was still frozen solid.
“Get on your outdoor duds,” I said to Tommy and Farah when I returned to the house. “We’re all going out on the snowmobile.”
“Yay!” Tommy cried.
One look at his happy face and my heart turned over. I couldn’t let anything happen to this boy.
“I do not…” Farah started to say.
I fixed my eyes on her face. “Farah, please do as I say. Put on warm clothes. Wear tights under your jeans.”
I let Maxie out on the deck, and put bowls of chow and water on the kitchen floor for her and Cleo. Maxie’s bladder might not hold out until we returned, but that was beyond my control.
In my room, I changed into long underwear, jeans and a heavy sweater, and spent a few minutes studying Celia’s map of the lake system. Then I went back downstairs, let Maxie into the house and helped Tommy into his snowsuit. When Farah joined us, I told them that the phone line was down and I didn’t want to leave them in the house without a phone. I didn’t say that the line had been cut.
“Let’s go!” Tommy said.
“We’ll find something for you and Farah to do in town.”
Farah glared at me. I ignored her and grabbed the two helmets off the pegs by the door. I handed one to Farah and the other to Tommy. “Put these on.”
“Pat—” Farah began.
“Helmet on your head, please.”
My tone of voice must have told her I meant business because she put the helmet on her head. I pulled on my warmest tuque. There was probably a law against riding on a snowmobile without a helmet, but that was the least of my concerns.
I locked the front door and put my key on top of the doorframe. Then I led the way to the back of the house where Molly waited.
“Are we all going to ride on it?” Tommy asked.
“Yes.” I turned the key in the ignition and let the engine idle.
“Where am I going to sit?” he asked.
“I don’t—” Farah said.
“Farah, you can stay in the house if you like, but Tommy and I are going into town. You’ll be alone here till we get back this evening.”
Farah said nothing, but she didn’t go back to the house.
“Tommy, you’ll sit between Farah and me. Tommy, put your arms around my middle. Farah, you hold on to the hand grips.”
I showed her the metal grips, made sure their helmets were on properly and adjusted their face shields. Then we all climbed on the machine. I took a deep breath.
“Here we go. Hold on!” I pressed the throttle.
I heard Farah’s shriek above the roar of the motor.
I eased up on the gas as we zig-zagged down the sloping lawn to the lake. The sight of all that snow-covered ice terrified me. Celia had said spring breakup was some time away, but that was more than a week ago when the temperature had been much lower. I felt Tommy’s little arms around my waist. It wasn’t just my life that was at stake.
We zoomed over the ice, down the frozen creek and onto the second lake in the chain. I was starting to think I could handle this beast after all, when it suddenly skittered on its left ski and threatened to keel over. Farah screamed. I eased up on the gas, and the machine regained its balance. I put the engine into neutral and turned to face my passengers.
Farah lifted her face shield. Her eyes were enormous in her pale face. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.
“I’m sorry. That was my fault,” I said. “I forgot to tell you something. When I raise my arm, the two of you need to lean in the opposite direction. That way we’ll stay balanced.”
I raised my right arm, and watched as they leaned to the left. Then I raised my left arm, and they leaned to the right. “Good,” I said. “Hold on tight now, both of you.”
There were no other machines on the lakes that day, and the fishing huts stood empty. It was the middle of the week, and winter break was over.
The gas gauge was already down a notch from when we’d started. If we ran out of gas, there would be no one around to help us.
The sun burst out from behind the clouds and beat down on the lake. Pools of water shimmered on the ice. Water sprayed my face. Would the ice hold us?
I squared my shoulders and gripped the handlebars tighter. We had to get to Braeloch. And we would! I raced across the fourth lake as fast as I dared, and steered us down the last creek that fed into Serenity Lake.
Halfway down the creek, I saw that the ice had started to recede from the shoreline. I kept to the center of the creek, but cracks appeared on the windswept ice under us. I took a deep breath, muttered a prayer and opened the throttle. We flew onto the lake.
The town of Braeloch hugged the far shore. I pointed Molly at the municipal dock. The closer we got, the bigger the buildings grew. Soon I could make out the Coca-Cola sign at the back
of the Dominion Hotel. My spirits were soaring when, with a jolt of recognition, I saw a ribbon of black water along the lakeshore.
I eased up on the gas and we crept forward. The black ribbon wasn’t very wide, maybe a few yards across, but I knew the ice in front of it wouldn’t hold our weight.
I held out my right arm and turned the machine around. But there was nowhere to go with the gas gauge almost at empty. Could I risk crossing that water? Risk sinking the machine—and my passengers?
I remembered what Celia had said about snowmobile skipping: The heavier the machine and the rider, the faster you needed to go to get across the water. Molly was a heavyweight, and she had three people on board. We needed to be as quick as lightning to cross that water. My neurons fired with a sense of urgency. I held out my arm again and turned the machine around to face the town.
We raced toward the dock as fast as I could make Molly run. The sound of her engine throbbed in my bones. As we approached the water, I held the throttle wide open. My heart in my throat, all I could think of was something else Celia had said: If they don’t make it across open water, they sink like stones.
Droplets of water stung my face. I tightened my grip and pointed the machine toward the small beach beside the dock, and focused on going in a straight line.
We hit land with a thud and careened up the bank. I grabbed the brake lever. Molly stopped with a shudder at the edge of the gravel road that ran up to Main Street.
I removed the key from the ignition and slid off the seat. Farah was shaking like a leaf, and I put an arm around her. “We’re here in Braeloch, Farah. We made it.”
Tommy lifted his face shield. His eyes sparkled. “That was awesome! Wait’ll I tell Kerry.”
His snowsuit was waterproof, and so were the jackets Farah and I had on. But our jeans were soaking wet.
“Let’s get ourselves dry,” I said before Farah could complain. “And have some lunch.”
I linked arms with her, grabbed Tommy’s hand and propelled the three of us up to Main Street.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The window shades were drawn at the Norris Cassidy branch and a Closed sign hung on the front door. I fumbled in my pockets only to find that I’d left my office keys back at the house. And I hadn’t taken my cell phone with me.
A glance at my watch told me it was eleven-fifteen. Soupy had scheduled another meeting with Veronica that morning, and after that he planned to help his dad set up a new computer. But where were Nuala and Ivy?
I left Tommy and Farah on the walkway, and sprinted around to the back of the building. The parking lot was empty. Nuala liked to drive her Lexus to work so I assumed she was with a client. When I returned to the front of the building, I saw Ted Stohl hurrying down the sidewalk across the street in the direction of The Times building. He gave us a wave and continued on his way.
“I’m hungry,” Tommy said when he saw me.
Farah was shivering. I remembered that the young moms in the area met at the church on Wednesdays for a potluck lunch. I figured Celia would be back from her sick call, and we could join them. Celia might even have some dry clothes for us. She would definitely have a phone I could use.
We found her in the church basement with Sherry Vargas and four young women. A long table in front of the stage held a few platters of food. Card tables had been set up, and several children were seated at them eating cheese and crackers. Celia waved when she saw us.
“I need to use your phone,” I told her.
She pointed to a telephone on the wall beside the stage.
“And would you have dry clothes for us?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She took Tommy’s hand and Farah’s arm. “First door at the back of the hall when you finish your calls, Pat.”
I punched in the phone number of the Norris Cassidy branch and got Ivy’s recorded voice. I pressed the numbers of my extension and accessed my voice mail. No messages.
I called Foster, and he answered on the first ring. I gave him a rundown of my morning; when he made no comment, I drew a deep breath and went on. “The bikers have been harassing two women who live east of Braeloch off County Road 8. Al Barker and Ruby Taylor.”
I did it. I brought Al and Ruby to his attention, but I had no choice. I needed to get him over to their place—ASAP.
“We knew those guys were in the area for the grow operation,” he said.
My jaw dropped. He knew about the grow-op. “How—"
“Our Drug Enforcement Section and our Biker Enforcement Unit have been sniffing around and comparing notes,” he said. “They want to build a solid case before they move in.”
“I think something will happen out there today.”
There was a silence over the line before he continued. “What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Tierney?”
“Those men think I’m involved in Al and Ruby’s operation. That’s why they came to the house the night before last. To tell me to back off.”
“You kept that from us. What else did you hold back?”
I took another deep breath. “Jamie and Al Barker were close friends when they were younger. I thought Al might know—”
“Is Collins with them?” he barked.
“I think she might be there.”
“You think?”
Tracy would never forgive me for giving Jamie up to the police, but I had to get Foster over to the farm. If the bikers came down on the grow-op, all three women would be in danger, Al’s rifle notwithstanding.
“I’m not absolutely certain but I think she’s there. And I have a feeling there’ll be trouble today. Those guys wanted me to stay at home for a reason.”
“I’m an hour away from Braeloch. How much farther east is this place?”
I gave him directions. Then, although I knew I was pushing my luck, I asked if he’d spoken to Christine Ritter.
“I did,” he said to my surprise. “I’m on my way back from Lindsay right now. All the clients who fell short at the branch worked with Ken Burrows.”
Of course they did. That’s why Ken was in jail. I was about to ask whether money had disappeared from client accounts after Ken’s arrest, but he cut me off.
“Stay in town today, Ms. Tierney. Don’t go out to County Road 8,” he said and hung up.
More women and children had come into the hall, and more food was on the table. A group of children, seated on mats on the floor, listened to a woman reading from a Harry Potter book.
Celia was at a table with Tommy. He had sandwiches and apple juice in front of him. When she saw that I was off the phone, she waved me over.
“Tommy told me about your ride on Molly.” Her eyes searched my face. “And that you skipped over black water.”
“That was fun!” Tommy said.
I handed her Molly’s key. “Molly’s at the bottom of the gravel road that leads up to Main Street.”
“I’ll have the rental place pick her up. Looks like snowmobile season is over.”
“Good lunch?” I asked Tommy.
He nodded, his mouth full.
I told Celia about my car and the telephone line. “Someone tried to make sure we stayed at home today, which makes me think we shouldn’t have.”
She frowned. “I went on a fool’s errand to Beaver Dam Road. The road out there is in terrible shape, full of potholes. When I came to the roadside number I’d been given, I found a cottage that was completely snowed in.”
I felt the hairs stand up on the back on my neck. “No one was there?”
“No one’s been there for months.”
“When did you get this call?”
“Late yesterday afternoon. A Sarah Hayes said her father was having surgery today and she asked if I’d come over at seven this morning before an ambulance took him to hospital. She gave me directions and a phone number. I called that number when I got back to the rectory and got voice mail.”
“Someone wanted you out of the house early today.”
Our eyes met, an
d she nodded. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. I’ll be right back, Tommy.”
She led me down a corridor, and we stepped into a room full of clothing. Shirts, pants, dresses and jackets hung from clothing racks. More clothing spilled out of dozens of cardboard boxes and shopping bags. Farah had changed into a pair of gray trousers, and was checking out some other items.
“The fruits of our Bundle Sunday three weeks ago,” Celia said. “All clean and gently worn. Help yourself.”
I found a pair of black corduroy jeans and stripped off my wet ones. The cords were on the roomy side, but they were warm and dry.
“Make sure you get some lunch,” I said to Farah, who looked like she would be in there for some time.
Back in the hall, I saw that Tommy had joined the kids on the floor. Another woman was reading to them.
I went over to Celia who was at a table of young mothers. “The police know about Al and Ruby’s business,” I told her quietly.
Her eyebrows shot up, and we looked at each other for a few moments. “Do you think the bikers killed Lyle?” she whispered. “Did he tell Jamie something about them in his letter?”
“Then there are parts to the puzzle we don’t know about. Such as Lyle’s connection to the bikers and the grow-op.”
“Have some lunch,” she said.
“I’ve got to run. By the way, there’s no one at our branch.”
“You stopped by there?”
“The blinds are drawn, and there was a Closed sign on the door.”
“They’re visiting clients?”
“Soupy and Nuala might be,” I said. “But where is Ivy?”
I got up from the table. “I’d like to go out to Al and Ruby’s place, and ask Jamie to stay with us. You don’t mind, do you? She can sleep on the foldout sofa in the basement.”
Celia unzipped the pouch at her waist, pulled out her car keys and handed them to me. “Take my car. Tommy and Farah can stay here this afternoon. There’s a movie after lunch, then Farah can help me sort those clothes.”
I pocketed the keys and smiled my thanks.
She looked around the room. Bruce was rolling a table that held a large TV set onto the stage. “The moms enjoy the Wednesday potlucks,” she said. “It’s a chance for them to socialize.”
Black Water Page 18
