by Garry Ryan
“If we’re right, Rowe had a reason for coming after Mor-eau. But why would he want to hurt Russell Lowell?” Lane asked.
“Don’t know. Details are sketchy so far,” Keely said. “It’s kind of ironic, though.”
“How’s that?’ Lane asked.
“Kev was being interviewed on TV this morning. He was whining about the recent string of murders and complaining that the police aren’t doing enough to protect citizens.”
Lane said, “If things work out today, he may be complaining from a cell after being arrested for murder.”
“Let’s hope so.” Keely hung up.
Mary sat under the apple tree in the shelter’s backyard. Each time she looked up at the second floor of the shelter, the curtain to Dee Dee’s window would shift to one side or the other.
“Don’t pay no attention to her. She’s here two or three times a year, and she always goes back to the bastard. Sometimes you just wanna shake your head. Thinks because she’s a regular she has some kinda special status around here.” Rita used her key to open the back gate. She carried a new shovel and digging fork. As the gate shut and locked behind her, she held the pair up. “Wore the other tools right out. Got my first pension check, so I decided to treat myself.”
Mary looked up at Dee Dee’s window and saw the curtains move again. “Dee Dee gives me the creeps.”
Rita stuck the spade in the soil and used the fork to turn over the dirt in the flowerbed. “I know. She pretends to be all nice and sweet, but underneath she’s just plain mean. Loves to manipulate people around this place, then gets all offended when they won’t play her games. She’s one twisted woman. Keep on expecting to see her pop up on some reality show.”
“You’re starting to sound like a shrink.” Mary put Joshua down on the grass. He crawled in the general direction of Rita, spotted a grasshopper and stopped to see whether he could grab it.
“When I worked for the city, people were always comin’ to me for advice. Askin’ me what they should do. Tellin’ me their problems.” Rita turned and smiled at Joshua. The grasshopper jumped. Joshua followed.
“I get the feeling it’s time for me to move on.” Mary glanced over her shoulder.
“Where you gonna go?” Rita asked.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem,” Mary said.
“Family messed up?” Rita asked.
“Alcoholics.” Mary watched her son like a mama grizzly bear watches over her cub.
“You want to protect him. That’s natural,” Rita said. Joshua reached for the grasshopper and it leapt away.
“You don’t understand,” Mary said.
Joshua began to chuckle. Rita smiled.
“Candace was there, wasn’t she? When Moreau and Pike picked up Zander. Russell — my husband — told me there was a girl in the car. Russell still has nightmares about it. Pike conned Russell into bringing Zander to Moreau’s car after school that day. Russell watched them drive away with the kid.” Mary looked at the gate, then up at Dee Dee’s window.
Except for Joshua’s laughter and a robin, there was silence. Rita coughed. “Candace told me about it just before she left. She said they took Zander to an industrial park. Then Pike and Moreau took the kid inside a shop. About ten minutes later, they came out without the boy. Moreau told her, ‘Don’t worry, we’re just teaching the kid’s big brother a lesson. Zander is fine.’ But after a couple of weeks, she knew Zander wasn’t fine. She started to ask questions. A week after that, Pike showed the movie of her and Kev to kids at her school. She said Moreau and Pike showed it because she asked too many questions about Zander.”
Mary heard the resignation in Rita’s tone.
Rita said, “The thing is — you and I know what Kev is capable of. Most people don’t. They buy his act. Neither of us falls for his charm. There’s an advantage in that.”
“Yes, but where’s our advantage when he’s got the gun?” Mary asked.
Matt touched Jessica’s hand.
He pointed at her pink shoes with the flashing heels.
She walked over to the head of her mattress and brought her shoes to him.
From just outside of the door, the devil said, “I ordered that pizza you’ve been waitin’ for. It’s comin’ for lunch. You hear me?”
“Thanks,” Matt said. Time for our last meal? He heard the rustle of a newspaper and the footsteps of the devil walking down the hall. Matt bent to do up Jessica’s right shoe. “Hold on to this one.” He handed her the left shoe.
The bathroom fan turned on. Matt heard the sound of a belt buckle hitting the tile floor. He grabbed Jessica’s hand. She dropped her left shoe.
Now! He put his free hand up and covered his mouth.
Jessica did the same. Matt reached his fingers under the door and pulled it toward him.
Jessica grabbed his wrist with both hands. The door swung open and the latch clicked. Shit! Matt thought when he heard the sound. He waited.
The devil turned the newspaper page and grunted.
Matt opened the door, picked Jessica up and swung around to close the door behind them. He looked down the hallway and saw the devil’s knees with his pants around his ankles. The devil’s hands were on either side of the newspaper. The rest of the devil was hidden behind the open door.
Matt tiptoed over to the apartment door, opened it, stepped through and set Jessica down. He used his hand to slow the closing of the door. He waited until he heard the latch make a whispered click. He bent, picked Jessica up under the armpits and walked down the hall. With every footstep he expected to hear the sound of a door opening and the devil’s footsteps behind them.
Matt reached the stairwell door, pushed it open and let it close slowly. By the time they’d made their way down nine flights of stairs, his calves were burning, his arms were aching and his back was groaning.
The midday light greeted them as he opened the door to the main floor. He turned left, ignoring the front exit, turned the corner and opened the back door. He felt a rush of optimism when he inhaled fresh air.
Jessica asked, “Where’s my daddy?” Matt followed a sidewalk that turned into a trail when it passed under the trees. He skidded on loose gravel where the trail curved its way down to join a paved path that followed the river. They went under the bridge with the river on their left. The sound of the water helped to calm him.
Jessica had her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear. “Where’s my mum?”
Mary carried Joshua inside the shelter.
“You need to see this!” Dee Dee called out to Mary from the common room.
Mary looked at the TV. A reporter stood in front of Kev’s restaurant. The reporter lifted his microphone. “Police discovered the body of Kev’s chef Russell Lowell in the alley behind this restaurant just after two AM this morning.” Mary felt as if she wanted to run but her feet kept her staked to the floor.
The reporter continued. “Kev Moreau is the owner of the restaurant.”
The image switched to Kev Moreau facing the camera. “Russell was a long-time employee. I tried to get between him and Rowe, but it all happened so fast.”
The reporter asked, “So you witnessed the murder?”
Moreau nodded. “It happened right in front of me. Rowe stabbed Russell before I could intervene. How could the prison system let a guy like Rowe just walk away from jail? Makes me wonder who will protect any honest citizen from people convicted of violent crimes.”
Mary felt the tears running down her cheeks. She felt Joshua’s hand on her arm. Kev is lying! She looked at Dee Dee.
She saw the smile on Dee Dee’s lips.
Mary turned away and walked toward the stairs. Russell, I tried to tell you.
Lane reached for his phone. “Yes?”
“It’s Arthur. Uncle Tran’s friend got an order for the pizza we’ve been waiting on. The phone number is a match for one of Moreau’s drivers. The pizza will be picked up in twenty minutes,” Arthur said.
“We’re ready.
”
“Lane?” Arthur asked.
“I know. I’ll call you as soon as I know. Right now I’m trying to concentrate and make sure we’re ready.” Lane tucked the phone in his pocket. He looked at Harper. “We’re on in less than thirty.” Lane dialed McTavish’s number.
There was a gentle knock on Mary’s door.
Mary picked Joshua up and held him close. “Who is it?”
“Rita.”
Mary opened the door. Joshua stuck his tongue out.
Rita tried to smile. “I was just downstairs and overheard Dee Dee on the phone. She clammed up tight when I walked into the common room. You two had better come home to stay with me for a few days.”
Mary began to decline, then looked at her son. “When do you want to leave?”
“Meet me at the back gate in fifteen minutes.” Rita reached for the doorknob.
“Russell is dead. He was killed this morning,” Mary said.
“All the more reason for you to leave.” Rita closed the door.
Kev Moreau tapped the sous-chef on the back as he prepared vegetables for the lunch crowd. “I’ll be back soon. I’m leaving you in charge, chef.”
The newly promoted chef beamed at Moreau.
Moreau smiled back. “You’ll be just fine. I have every confidence in you. I have something that needs to be taken care of right away.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket as he walked out the back door.
Keely stopped at a red light. She looked at the address of the last shelter on her list. The light turned green. She headed west along the north side of the river across from the towers of the downtown core.
Matt carried Jessica under the bridge. He heard traffic humming overhead. In front of them, a paved path headed east into a park where trees and shrubs would hide them.
“We have to go this way, Jess,” Matt said.
Jessica had one arm around his neck. “Home?”
“Yes, we’re going home.” Matt followed the trail deeper into the cover. He remembered a series of pedestrian bridges that connected the south side of the river with the north. “This way might take us a little while longer, but it will be harder for anyone to find us. Can you walk?”
Jessica released his neck. He put her on the ground. She was unsteady on her feet.
“Feels funny to walk after being in that tiny room for so long.”
Jessica walked ahead of him. Her single heel flashed red.
“We forgot one of your shoes.” Matt looked down the trail. We need to put some distance between us and the devil!
Lane and Harper had walked over to wait in the apartment foyer. Moreau’s relative drove up in his late-model Ford pickup. He stepped out of the truck with a pizza in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He looked to be about thirty and weighed maybe one hundred fifty pounds. The man wore a red-and-white hockey jersey and a red ball cap. The information supplied by Saadiq’s friend told them that this cousin went by the name of Billy Moreau. He left the diesel engine of his pickup idling.
McTavish stepped out from cover. He leveled a shotgun at the man’s nose. “Put the pizza on the hood, Billy.”
“Do you know who you’re messing with?” Billy’s cigarette fell from his mouth and rolled under the truck.
“Billy Moreau. Cousin to Kevin Moreau.” McTavish held out his police ID.
Billy put the pizza on the hood of the truck.
“Move to the front of your truck and put your hands on the hood,” McTavish said.
“Yep.” Billy made to inhale on his cigarette, frowned when he discovered it was gone, stepped over to the front of the Ford and leaned with both hands on the chromed brush guard.
McTavish placed the barrel of his shotgun on the collar of Billy’s jersey and pressed the metal up against the back of his neck.
“I just do what I’m told,” Billy said.
McTavish used his free hand to check Billy for weapons. The officer found a cell phone in Billy’s right pants pocket.
“That’s my phone, man!”
“You’ve got other problems now. Unlawful confinement is one of them. I’m going to detain you.” McTavish pocketed the phone and reached for handcuffs. He attached one end of the handcuffs to the truck’s brush guard and the other to Billy’s right wrist. Then he stood back and faced Moreau.
“What do you say to him when you deliver the pizza?” McTavish asked.
“Nuthin’,” Billy said.
“I’m only going to ask once more,” McTavish pointed the shotgun at the pavement.
“Nuthin’! I told you, nuthin’! Just knock once and go easy, man, he’s my brother,” Billy said.
“What’s his name?”
“His name is Daryl. The kids are fine. No reason to hurt anyone,” Billy said.
McTavish walked to the driver’s door of the truck, reached inside, shut off the engine, pocketed the keys and asked, “What room number?”
Billy said, “Nine oh five.”
McTavish looked at Billy and put his forefinger to his lips.
Billy nodded. “Yep. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just don’t shoot my brother.”
McTavish pushed the door of the lobby open and handed the pizza box to Lane.
Harper pressed the button for the elevator. The white arrow lit up. The elevator door slid open.
McTavish pulled a phone out of his pocket as he stepped inside the elevator. “The clock is ticking. I’m calling for backup.”
Keely found the women’s shelter two blocks back from a bluff overlooking downtown. She parked across the street and stared at the white two-storey building with its twometre-high hedge shielding the grounds from prying eyes. It was flanked by one mansion made of red brick and another of sandstone.
She put her keys into her pocket, stepped out of the Chev and crossed the street. Keely looked at the trellis flowers visible over top of the hedge marking the front gate to the shelter. The hedge was manicured into an arch. Inside the yard, a woman gathered a shovel and garden tools from the far corner of the yard. She placed them in a wheelbarrow.
Another woman, with a bruised face, opened the front gate and smiled in Keely’s direction.
Keely heard a car door close to her right. She walked between two parked cars and stepped onto the sidewalk. What she saw next became a series of impressions accompanied by her instinctive reactions.
She saw that Kev Moreau had a handgun pointed at her.
Keely reached for the Glock on her hip.
Moreau smiled with an expression that said she was too late.
Keely reacted by diving back between the parked cars.
Moreau’s silenced gun spat one round.
She heard it whiz past her left ear. The second round struck her in the left breast. She screamed in pain at the impact. Her head caught the corner of the car’s grille. She smelled antifreeze and blood as she fell under the front bumper of the parked car.
Moreau looked down on the officer and saw the blood pooling around her head. He turned to walk through the gate. Dee Dee held the gate open for him. “She’s around back with the kid.”
“Puppy.” Jessica pointed at a red animal walking across the near end of a pedestrian bridge crossing the Bow River.
Matt picked her up. “Fox.”
The fox yawned and turned west as it stepped off the bridge and disappeared into the undergrowth.
“Mine?” Jessica pointed at the fox logo on her running shoe.
“That’s right.” Matt carried her onto the bridge and over the river to the north bank.
“Mommy’s be mad.” Jessica held up her toe and sock as proof.
Matt looked at the pink sock and its dirty sole. He smiled. “No, your mom won’t be mad you lost your shoe. She’ll be too happy to see you again.”
“Promise?” Jessica said and put her left hand on his shoulder as she held on to his shirt front with the right.
“Promise.”
McTavish pointed and indicated that Harper and Lane should stand on either side of
the door. He handed the shotgun to Harper.
Lane held the pizza between McTavish and the door, just above the doorknob.
McTavish drew his Glock with his right hand and knocked once on the door with his left. He tucked his gun under the pizza box.
They heard a chair being pushed back.
A pair of boots crossed the floor.
“Billy?” asked the voice on the inside.
“Yep,” McTavish said.
The door opened.
Daryl looked at the pizza. He raised his eyes. They opened wide and he reached for the weapon on his hip. His eyes crossed when he saw McTavish’s left fist connect with his nose.
Daryl stumbled back and cupped his hands over his bloody nose.
Lane tossed the pizza against the opposite wall and stepped inside. The rage he had contained for the past days exploded as he grabbed Daryl by the hair, kicked the feet out from under him, twisted him in mid-air and dropped him face first onto the floor. Lane landed on top of Daryl with a knee in his back. Air whooshed out of Daryl’s lungs.
By the time Harper stepped into the room, Daryl had both hands cuffed behind his back. He was taking in big gasps of air, coughing and spitting blood. After a minute, he asked, “What the fuck? You broke my nose!” Harper put a black nylon bag over Daryl’s head.
McTavish grabbed the suspect by the arm, lifted the devil’s pistol out of its holster and propped Daryl up against the wall where his nose could bleed onto the front of his black T-shirt. McTavish walked down the hall and checked the bathroom.
Lane drew his Glock and held it at his side. He held his finger lengthwise over the guard.
Harper closed the door to the apartment.
Lane looked at the kitchen table and saw Matt’s phone. He reached for it.
Harper stopped him with his left hand. He shook his head. Harper pointed at the devil’s mask near the remote control on the coffee table. He held up his left palm. He mouthed the words, We’re not here.
McTavish reached the bedroom door, tried the handle and then raised his shoe and kicked the door open. It flew against the wall, smashed back against the casing and opened about halfway.
