by Alex MacLean
Allan perked up in his seat. “Where?”
Audra slid the paper across the table to him.
“Kimberley, BC,” she said. “Victim’s name is Guillaume Mills.”
29
Bradford, PA, October 27
2:50 p.m.
Allegheny National Forest is beautiful. Even though it’s late October, some parts of the hills and valleys still have their colorful foliage.
I don’t travel south of the border often. I take so many trips on my job, I like to spend my downtime around home. Up until recently, that is. I needed a break from Heidi’s attitude.
There’s no better escape for me than nature. I can attest to studies claiming nature revitalizes your brain the same way food and water revitalizes your body. It settles down your prefrontal cortex. It resets your thoughts and improves your mood.
Ten minutes into my hike, I feel my mind clearing, the weight lifting off my shoulders. Home feels a thousand miles away.
I trek at a comfortable pace. I know other hikers who push for mileage, trying to get to their destinations. Not me. I like to enjoy my surroundings, to absorb all the little details.
I don’t see anyone else on the trail, and the solitude feels good. It’s just the resident songbirds and me.
Golden bands of sunlight filter through the trees, giving the woods an ethereal quality. The gentle quiver of wind stirs the heavy leaf cover all over the forest floor.
Fall is my favorite season for hiking. The heat and humidity of summer are gone. Fewer mosquitoes buzz around your head. Fewer spiders build webs across the trails. Smells in the woods change as well; they become more earthy and pungent with moldering leaves.
One of the first things I do when I enter any nature park is to take a deep breath of the air. Each location has a unique scent, depending on the trees and flora. Some can be sweet, some can be bitter. Hiking through a stand of pines is one of the most pleasant experiences you can find.
This is my second visit to Allegheny. I brought Heidi and the girls here in July, and I knew immediately I would come back again. I just didn’t know it would be this soon.
I rented the same cabin at Woodhaven Acres. It’s maybe twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. I can see some people out there using one as a garden shed or maybe even a guesthouse.
There’s a small porch on the front with two chairs. Inside, wood paneling covers the walls. There are two bunk beds and a tiny bathroom with running hot water. The only thing it needs is a shower. But there’s a bathhouse nearby.
Jade and Jaleesa loved it when we came here. They hiked some of the trails with me—short treks, of course.
On the advice of Terry and Cathy at Woodhaven Acres, I took the girls to see Hector Falls. Only a trickle of water flowed that day, but it’s not so much the waterfall you go to see, it’s the unique rock formation it flows over. Twenty-two feet high, it looks like the ninety-degree corner of a rectangular box protruding out of a vertical slab of rock.
The girls were too young to appreciate the geological anomaly. Bored, Jaleesa rolled her neck and stared off into space as we stood there. Jade gave the falls a brief half-lidded look then yawned. The stream above the falls soon gave them a good source of entertainment. Heidi was a bit pissed off when I brought the girls back to the campground wet and muddy.
The next afternoon, I rented a pontoon at Wolf Run Marina, and we spent a few hours exploring the Allegheny River. At nighttime, we’d sit around the fire ring near our cabin. Heidi and I would sip wine and watch the stars; the girls would roast marshmallows. I found it to be a great bonding experience.
Sadly, our trip lasted only three days. Heidi became the fly in the ointment. She started complaining that the walls of our cabin were closing in on her and she wanted to return home to our much-bigger house.
You don’t go camping and stay cooped up in your tent all day. You get out. You explore the area. You enjoy the wilderness around you.
But that’s Heidi. She was never one for nature. She prefers the urban jungle with all of its noise, concrete, and human stink.
At least Allegheny isn’t far from Burlington. It took me a little over three hours to drive here. I was fortunate that I didn’t run into any delays at Peace Bridge.
The footpath I’m on leads me downhill and alongside a swollen creek. The water sounds like people all talking at once, the pitch drowning out the sound of my feet pushing through the leaves.
Downstream, I find a safe crossing over the thick trunk of deadfall. The terrain becomes more rugged, difficult. I soon arrive in an area littered with huge boulders and rock outcrops. There’s a primeval feel to this part of the forest. I stop to have a drink from my water bottle and to spend a few moments looking around.
Some outcrops have trees growing right out of their sides. Others give you that cloud phenomenon where you think their shapes resemble animals or human faces.
I eventually reach the base of the cliffs that make up Rimrock Overlook. I wanted to see this place on my first visit, but Heidi put a kibosh to that.
A rock staircase, built by natives, carves a passage up a narrow crevasse. I grab hold of the steel handrail and make my climb. The fit is so tight in some spots that I have to turn my shoulders to the side to squeeze through. A huge boulder overhead gives it a natural archway.
The view at the top is spectacular. A splash of gold and red paints the mountains and valleys across the blue water of the Allegheny Reservoir.
Just when I think I’m the only soul around, I hear voices carrying on the wind. I look down the sheer cliff face and see a young couple on the trail.
They’re wearing your typical hiking clothes—cargo pants and long-sleeved shirts. The guy sports a sun-tripper cap on his head, the girl a toque with sunglasses pushed up over it. Tent bags and rolled-up sleeping pads are attached to the outside of their backpacks.
Watching them, I wish for them to keep going. Just don’t come up here. Don’t ruin my perfect hike.
My heart feels as if it shrinks as they begin climbing the staircase.
“Knew it,” I mutter under my breath.
I lean my elbows on the railing and lower my head. Behind me, I hear laughter coming up from the crevasse.
“I’m stuck,” I hear the guy say.
I want to call out, “Take off the backpack, stupid.”
After a couple of minutes, they seem to figure it out for themselves. They’re still laughing as they reach the top of the overlook. From the corner of my eye, I watch them walk over to the far corner of the railing. They set their backpacks against the stone parapet.
“Wow,” the girl says. “How beautiful.”
“Yeppers,” the guy answers.
I notice a jagged rock three feet away from me. It’s twice the size of a softball.
The guy takes out an iPhone and begins capturing the view. Then he and the girl lean into each other, and he shoots a photo of them. Such lovebirds. I remember a time Heidi and I were like that.
I drop my gaze to the rock again. My pulse quickens. My mouth dries. A hot flood of adrenaline pushes through my body.
You can’t, I tell myself. You can’t.
“Hey,” the guy says.
I look over at him. He and the girl are facing me. The girl is grinning.
The guy holds up the iPhone.
“Wouldja mind?” he asks.
I hesitate a brief moment before giving him a smile.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d be happy to.”
30
Halifax, October 27
4:50 p.m.
Daphne leaned in the bedroom doorway. “What time’s your flight?”
Audra pulled a white blouse from the closet and gave it a once-over.
“Five twenty-five,” she said. “Bright and early.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Not sure, honey. Two, three days.” Audra threw her a smile. “Think you and your father can manage things until I get back?”
Daphne s
miled a little. “I think so. We do okay when you go off on your courses.”
Audra laid out the blouse on the bed. “Yeah? I suppose you guys will be living off takeout until I get back.”
Daphne laughed. “Well...it’s healthy takeout.”
Audra smirked. “Pizza’s not really considered a health food, is it?”
“It depends on the toppings.”
“All that white flour.”
“There’s that. But we always stay away from the processed meats.”
“I know. I was just teasing you, honey.” Audra placed a sheet of tissue paper on top of the blouse and began folding the blouse over it. “I think there’s still some goulash in the freezer.”
Daphne nodded. “That stir-fry we had the other night is there.”
“There you go. If you guys get sick of pizza, you can always heat up that stuff. You know how to use the stove. Not sure your father does.”
“He tries.”
Audra chuckled. As she packed the blouse in a suitcase, she heard the back door close downstairs.
“Speak of the devil,” she said.
In moments, Daniel called out, “Hello.”
“We’re up here,” Daphne called back.
Audra heard him ascending the stairs. He stepped into the room.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said to Daphne. “How was school?”
“Good,” she said. “How was work?”
“Oh, same old routine.” Daniel looked over at Audra. “Hey, babe. I got your text. What’s this about you going out to BC?”
Audra double-checked the contents of the suitcase. “Work.”
“British Columbia?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
Audra said to Daphne, “Honey, can you check the casserole? Make sure it’s not burning.”
“Sure.”
After Daphne left, Audra said, “We’re going out to review a case. Look at a crime scene.”
Daniel frowned. “Way out there? Why?”
Audra ran her fingers through her hair. “Remember that girl found in Point Pleasant?”
“Yes.”
“Well, long story short, we made a potential link to another case in Ontario. The detective in that one—Denis Gagnon—flew down here to compare notes with us. He actually thinks two of his cases are related to ours, but that’s another story.
“We ended up reviewing other unsolved cases in Ontario, Quebec, and through the Maritimes. BC wasn’t even on our radar. But then out of the blue this case comes to our attention.”
Daniel took a seat on the edge of the bed. “It’s connected to Point Pleasant somehow?”
Audra shrugged. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.”
“You don’t know?”
“We don’t even know if these other cases we picked as possibilities are related to ours. Or if Gagnon’s case or cases are related to ours.”
Daniel lowered his head, quiet for half a minute. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”
Audra zipped up the suitcase. “Two, three days. I can’t see us being any longer than that. Jesus, it’s taking us over eleven hours just to get there tomorrow.”
“You couldn’t get a direct flight?”
She set the suitcase by the doorway.
“Not for the three of us on the same flight,” she said. “We could if we wanted to fly out later in the day. Then we’re looking at Friday before we can get anything started.”
“Who’s all going?”
“Me, Al, and Denis,” Audra said. “Too bad I couldn’t take you guys. Daphne’s never seen BC.”
“Whereabouts in BC are you going?”
“Kimberley.”
Daniel nodded. “Heard of it.”
“Small place, from what I’ve been told.”
Daphne came into the room. “Casserole’s done. I took it out of the oven.”
“Great.” Audra smacked her hands together. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
31
Halifax, October 27
5:18 p.m.
There were fresh flowers on the graves. They bespoke the living presence of loved ones and their irreplaceable loss of a son, a daughter, and a granddaughter and niece.
The cool wind ruffled Allan’s hair as he stood by Seth Connors’s grave. He had never come here before, though he’d always meant to. The last time he stepped foot in Fairview Cemetery was a year ago when he had attended Mary Driscow’s interment.
Seth had been buried next to his wife, Camille. Their daughter, Lily, lay next to them. Her headstone was shaped like a single teardrop with an etching of stairs ascending into heaven. The inscription broke Allan’s heart. “Held for a moment. Loved for a lifetime.”
Life can be so short and tragic, he thought. No matter what your age is or what day it is.
He’d never forget that terrible night in the alley or the image of Seth Connors reaching his fingers up to the sleeve of his coat. Begging, almost, to let him die.
Allan grimaced. In the quiet, a few birds calling, he sensed someone behind him.
Turning, he saw a short woman with a round face and bob haircut. She had her hands tucked into the pockets of her trench coat. Allan had seen her before.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She smiled. “No, no. Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”
“I’m finished.”
She walked forward. “You friends of the family? I don’t think we’ve met.”
“We have,” he said. “Just not officially.”
“Oh?”
“The Halifax Infirmary,” he explained. “I saw you there a couple of times when Mr. Connors was in.”
Eyes narrowing, she searched his face. “I don’t remember. Sorry.”
“Quite all right.” He extended his hand. “Allan Stanton.”
Her hand paused halfway to his. Allan watched her mouth parting, as she seemed to recognize his name.
“You’re a police officer,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Dana Gates.” She gave him a weak handshake. “I’m...um...Seth’s sister.”
Allan saw her cheeks blush as though admitting that embarrassed her.
“You were the one there that night?” she asked.
Allan nodded.
“Were you with him at the end?”
Allan pictured Seth looking up at him.
“Wait,” Seth said. “Please.”
“What?”
“Just wait.”
Allan shook his head. “You need medical attention.”
“Please. For me.”
“I was,” Allan said softly.
“Did he suffer?”
“No. He passed peacefully.”
Dana’s chin trembled, and she turned her face away.
“I should’ve got him help,” she said. “I should’ve called Dr. Somerville.”
Allan frowned. “Help for what?”
Dana looked down at the grass. “He was sick.” She winced. “I called him that night. He was all panicky, out of breath. He’d been running around the house looking for Lily. He thought I had her. I told him to take his pills and I’d call him back to see how he was. That was the last time I spoke to him.”
“I don’t understand,” Allan said. “What medication was he on?”
Eyes wet, Dana faced him. “Diazepam. Risperdal.”
“I know what Diazepam is. Not familiar with Risperdal.”
“It’s an antipsychotic.” Dana inhaled. “Seth never got over Lily, you see. He couldn’t accept her death. He blamed himself for it, and I think that guilt did weird things to him.”
“Like what?”
“Like convincing him that Lily was still alive. Still living in the house with him.”
Allan shook his head. “I never knew any of this.”
Dana nodded. “He called your department in March. Told them someone had abducted Lily. He was in a fit of rage, unable to calm himself down. They brought in a crisis team, and Seth ended
up in a psych ward for a month.
“Everything seemed to be going well for him after that. The drugs seemed to be working. Then I visited him about a week before he died, and I saw those bars all over the windows. I knew something was going on. He had a place set at the table for Lily. Even had her teddy bear sitting in a chair.”
Allan felt the story punch a hole straight through his chest.
“Stuff happens to people we can’t control,” he said. “The mind is a fragile thing. Easily broken. Losing a child is the worst nightmare a parent can go through.”
Dana sniffled, blinked at the tears in her eyes.
“Your brother saved my life that night,” Allan added. “I’ll be forever grateful to him for that. Remember who he was, the good times.”
Dana gave him a quivery smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said and left her alone.
He reached the other side of the cemetery. The late-afternoon light fell gently on Mary Driscow’s headstone.
He had come, Allan supposed, because of his guilt. Much like the night he stopped by the Driscow home after Kate Saint-Pierre had been murdered.
Bill and Joyce Driscow shared a double-heart headstone beside their daughter. An etching on the bottom announced their wedding day as June 20, 1981. Bill’s name and birth date were already inscribed.
Taking a deep, pained breath, Allan closed his eyes. He thought about the flight to BC in the morning. Were they even on the right track or just on some wild goose chase?
He lingered at the gravesite for a few moments more, then he headed home to pack.
32
Cranbrook, October 28
2:18 p.m.
“Guillaume Mills was missing for four days before Search and Rescue found his body in Kimberley Nature Park,” Corporal Logan Scott said. “Dr. Raines had scheduled the autopsy for this morning.”
Allan opened his eyes. “Have you heard from him yet?”
Logan shook his head. “Could be still at it. He only does this work on an as-needed basis.”
