Triple Threat

by Alexis Koetting

  “I didn’t even consider Harvey,” Jeffers said.

  “Me neither.”

  “I was so focused on Vince and the Penners and … I should have thought. I mean, he was always so nervous when I saw him.”

  “Nerves aren’t always an indication of guilt. You know that.”

  “But they were! In this case, they were! And I missed it! And … God … look at you!”

  “Jeffers, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, Bella! You’re battered and bruised. You could barely move when I found you.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I followed Harvey. You weren’t answering your phone when I got to the school, so I sought out Vince figuring you’d be with him. He’s pissed with you, by the way. Said you were supposed to help with the students but were off with your Festival friends.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Anyway, he pointed them out to me. That’s how I met Powell. He told me about Harvey. Well, provided a description anyway. When I couldn’t find him, or you, I put two and two together. I hung around the school, waiting for him to show himself, and when he finally did … You must have been down there for hours.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You keep saying that, but Jesus, Bella, a man killed himself right in front of you!”

  I reached out and took Jeffers’ hand. “Look at me.”

  He shook his head. “Bella—”

  “Look at me,” I repeated. He did. “Physically, I’m going to be fine. And I know I should see somebody to talk about what happened, so, eventually, I will be fine about that too.”

  “I did this to you. I put you in this situation. Again.”

  “Gerald Harvey put me in this position. Not you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know you saved me. Again.” He squeezed my hand. “We’re a team, Jeffers. A few broken ribs isn’t going to change that. I don’t care what Morris or anyone else says.” He smiled. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “The school is going to be closed for a few days. I don’t know how much is going to be public, but I don’t see how the department can spin this, to be honest. I imagine the official story will be suicide. Whether they decide to tie it to Macie’s death remains to be seen. We’ll keep you out of it if we can.”

  “I had no idea he had a gun.”

  “It was registered just a couple of days ago. My guess is the guilt was getting to him and he had started thinking about a way out.”

  “Have you talked to his wife?”

  “She’s devastated, as you would expect. She told me she’s known about Christopher for years.”

  “Really?”

  “They’d met a couple of times at the football games. She’d never been able to put her finger on it exactly, but she said she could sense something whenever she saw them together. Didn’t seem surprised when I told her about their relationship. She had long suspected there was someone else. She said Harvey would go away every month or so for various conferences or whatnot. Always came back from those weekends a different man. Happier, she said. All the same, they had a good marriage. Whatever those weekends were, she knew they were important to him, so she gave him those moments. Because she loved him. She’s with Christopher now. She insisted I call him immediately and that he come to the house. They’d both lost the man they loved, and she felt they should be together.”

  “That’s … amazing!”

  “That’s love,” Paul said from the stairs. “Your bath is ready.”

  Jeffers helped me up. “I’ll check on you tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve got a bunch of paperwork to do, but I want to head over to Glynn’s at some point. Fill him in. It’s better for him to hear it from me than someone else.”

  “Are you going to tell him about Powell?”

  “I haven’t decided. It might be enough to say Al saw Gerald and Christopher somewhere and leave it at that. What do you think?”

  “I’d like to think everyone is as accepting and as loving as Harvey’s wife, but … It’s tricky. I know we should probably tell him the whole truth. But maybe there are parts of the whole truth that are better left out, just for the sake of compassion. I’ve said it before—this is the foundation on which the last twenty years of his life were built. What’s to gain if we destroy that?”

  “What if he finds out some other way?”

  “How would that happen? Al’s dead. Gerald’s dead. Christopher isn’t going to say anything. Powell wouldn’t dare. No one else knows.”

  “Do you know that for sure?”

  “I …”

  “Lies always come to light. In time.”

  He was right about that.

  “I’d love to tag along,” I said.

  Paul inhaled deeply. I knew he was swallowing his words. I also knew they’d make their way back up before long and that there was a conversation in the making that I would not be able to avoid. Not tonight though. And I was grateful. I kissed his cheek as I made my way up the stairs. Moustache was glued to my ankles. I reached the bathroom and could hear the boys speaking in hushed tones below. Whatever Paul hadn’t been able to say to me was spewing forth to Jeffers, I was sure. I contemplated rescuing Jeffers but didn’t have the energy. Instead, I slipped into the bathroom and into the warm water. I surrendered to it, letting the heat and Epsom salts do their magic, while Moustache bunched up the bath mat so he could curl up next to me.

  Chapter 31

  The pews at St. Mark’s Anglican Church were filled by hundreds of people wishing to pay their last respects to Gerald Harvey. Even though the school planned to hold a special assembly honouring him when classes resumed, I recognized many of the staff and students in the congregation.

  His death was confirmed as a suicide, but no further details would be released until after the funeral at the request of both Harvey’s and Al Macie’s families. The community was abuzz with rumours as to what the reasoning might have been, and I’d heard whispers about everything from Harvey being terminally ill to his struggling with depression. There was nothing yet to tie him to Al Macie’s death. But there would be. At the moment, however, the present company was there to sympathize rather than speculate and Harvey would have a chance to be remembered for all the wonderful things he had done and had been before the shadow was cast.

  “You’re looking better,” Glynn Radley said, as he joined me and a throng of others standing at the back of the church. The colour around my eyes had started to change from deep blue to greenish-yellow and was, therefore, much easier to disguise with makeup. To anyone who asked, my injuries were the result of a car accident.

  News had spread quickly throughout the Festival, and Manda Rogers had practically wet herself in excitement when I hobbled into rehearsal bruised and broken. She didn’t have the acting skill to feign sympathy nor to cover her disappointment when I buckled my character shoes and took my place centre stage. Wobbly, but determined.

  A chosen few knew the truth. I told Powell and Adam. And Jeffers had told everyone involved with the investigation—Armin Penner, Vince, and, of course, Glynn.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” I said.

  “I debated coming,” Glynn admitted.

  “What convinced you?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to tell myself it’s what Al would have wanted. I told you he always saw the good in everyone. Never held a grudge. But … I actually don’t think it’s about Al. I think I needed something.”

  Jeffers and I had visited Glynn the day after Harvey’s confession and death. In the end, we told him everything. All about Al and Vince’s past. All about Powell. All about Al’s last moments. He thanked us and asked us to leave.

  “Did you get it?” I asked.

  “I’m not angry anymore,” he said. “I guess that’s something.” I looked at him, puzzled. “I’d always known Al had … others. And he knew I knew. We never talked about it. We were together for twenty-one years. Together for everything
that mattered. And unless I was working, he always came home to me. Why ruin that? Still, having it confirmed … hearing that it was more than a one-night thing, that …”

  “I’m sorry. Were we right to have told you?”

  He nodded. “And look at that.” He jutted his chin at the pew where Harvey’s wife and Christopher Neary sat together, hand in hand.

  They’d both given eulogies. Harvey’s wife had introduced Neary as a “dear friend” and I suppose no more needed to be said nor should have been. It was not the time for that.

  “I still don’t understand why he wouldn’t have told me about Vince. It doesn’t make any sense. But I guess I’ll never know.”

  “Maybe that was his cross to bear. Alone.”

  “Maybe.”

  The closing hymn’s final chords rang out, and people began to file out of the church. Glynn turned to go.

  “How’s Edith?” I asked.

  “She’s getting used to things, I guess. We all are. She’s taken to sleeping on Al’s side of the bed and, to be quite honest, I’m glad to have her there.”

  I watched Glynn descend the steps then turned to find Armin Penner at my side. He was wearing a suit that was more fashionably tailored than traditional.

  I braced myself.

  “Ms. James,” he said, “I was hoping you’d be here.” He recoiled a little at my appearance but had the grace not to say anything.

  “Mr. Penner, I really don’t think this is the place for—”

  “I owe you an apology.” My jaw dropped. “But you’re right. This is not the place. Perhaps you can come by the house later. Elsbeth is making chicken with bubbat.”

  “Bubbat?”

  “Raisin bread that is baked inside the chicken while it’s cooking.”

  I hesitated. I was curious about the apology, and the bubbat to be honest, but it seemed a little quick to move from where we had last left things to dinner.

  “Or perhaps just some tea,” he said, reading my mind.

  I nodded. “Tea would be lovely.”

  Ellie opened the door, all smiles, and led me down the hall.

  “Ah, good,” Armin said upon seeing me.

  He had never expressed joy at my presence, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Ellie smile. The whole thing was beginning to feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I looked out the living room window expecting to see a gremlin setting fire to the house or wreaking some other kind of havoc. I wasn’t too far off. Leland was outside loading a wagon with Corney. He caught my eye and looked away quickly.

  “Please sit,” Armin said, indicating an olive-green wingback chair.

  Ellie pretty much skipped out of the room and returned moments later with a full tea service and a plate of cookies. Only then did it register that she was wearing pants. My gaze shot to where Armin sat on the sofa; he was in his usual black pants and white collared shirt, but there was something different about him.

  “Have you ever had these?” Ellie asked, holding out the plate to me and interrupting my study of her father. I shook my head. “They’re cream cookies. Da made them. They’re way better than mine. Whenever I make them, they fall apart.”

  My face expressed surprise before I had a chance to self-edit. Armin Penner seemed very rigid in his ideas of what constituted “women’s work.” Baking cookies was surely near the top of that list.

  “I know my way around a kitchen, Ms. James,” Armin said, reading my mind for the second time that day. “I was one of five boys and there was no way my grandmother would let all of her recipes go to the grave with her. She passed along her most cherished ones to me and my brothers and would not rest until we could make them absolutely perfect. These cookies are a staple in most Mennonite homes, and everyone has an old recipe that’s been handed down through generations.”

  I took one of the cookies. It was round and white with a white glaze and sprinkled with shredded coconut. I bit into it and was surprised by how soft it was. It was the perfect amount of sweet and I contemplated reaching for another, but the image of my costume for Cabaret flashed in my mind and stayed my hand.

  “My mom taught me her recipe,” Ellie said. “She used to put coloured icing on hers. Pink for me, blue for Corney, and green for Lee. But we all liked Da’s better. Even Mom. He hasn’t made them in a long time though.”

  “No,” Armin said with a touch of sadness.

  If I were to guess, I’d say he hadn’t donned an apron since Adele’s death.

  “Ms. James,” Armin began, “you said some very hurtful things—”

  “You shaved.” I blurted out the words and they caught all three of us by surprise.

  Armin’s hand went to his chin where his long beard had been neatly trimmed into an extended goatee that Sean Connery would have envied. Ellie stifled a giggle.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  Armin smiled shyly and said, “Elsbeth tells me I look like George Clooney.”

  “Most definitely,” I said, smiling back.

  He blushed slightly. It was charming. He was charming. I had the feeling I was finally meeting the man Adele had loved.

  “Ms. James, I gather you have experienced a great loss.”

  It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t go into detail. I merely nodded.

  “The way you spoke to me in Mr. Leduc’s office could only have been born out of empathy. Of having survived something similar. It was hard to hear. I imagine it was also very hard for you to say. I am grateful to you. As I’m sure you are to whomever said those words to you in your time of darkness.”

  I thought of Natalie. And of a blustery day when I’d been particularly horrible and she’d finally had enough. She’d wielded some pretty tough love. And I pushed her away because of it. Eventually her words sunk in and I realized that I’d spent my entire life pushing people away because it was easier to do that than to get close to them and lose them. Slowly, my heart began to open. But it took time. And I wasn’t fully there yet. There were days when I still wanted desperately to close up shop, wrap a chain around my heart, and throw the key somewhere, fathoms deep.

  “I heard a saying once, ‘You just keep living until you’re alive again,’” Armin said. “I dismissed it at the time. But I think I understand it now.”

  The words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I struggled to keep my composure.

  “I couldn’t bear a single day without Adele. And I could see her in everything the children did. Things they said, dreams they had … So I took those things away. I robbed them of their very essences because of her presence. I was weak.”

  “You were grieving.”

  “Call it what you will, Ms. James. It doesn’t excuse the act.”

  “There’s no rule book for grief, Mr. Penner. It’s different for everyone. And we do what we must to get through. You would have found your way eventually whether or not I said anything.”

  “Be that as it may, I still owe you an apology. I have behaved rudely to you and, I daresay, I may have even frightened you. I do hope you’ll accept.”

  “Of course!”

  “I owe much more to my children. And to Adele. There are amends to be made. Years to repair.” Ellie reached out and took her dad’s hand. He pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. “So, for starters, I understand that my daughter has a pretty important audition coming up.”

  My eyes widened in surprise and I looked to Ellie, who sat beaming in her father’s embrace.

  “Perhaps you can educate an old man on what she’s getting into? Life as an actor?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said, my smile mirroring Ellie’s.

  I left, making promises of free tickets and backstage tours. Ellie was excited, and Armin was smiling but anxious. While I couldn’t imagine doing anything else for a living, it was not an easy lifestyle and I didn’t sugar-coat it for either of their sakes. It was a way of life that was financially unstable, emotionally taxing, and a rollercoaster ride from which your self-esteem
and confidence could never get off. It is a calling. And when you’re doing what you love, all the challenges disappear and there is nothing better in the world.

  Ellie had the talent. There was no doubt about that. Whether or not she had what it took to go the distance, I didn’t know, but I was glad she was going to get a chance to find out.

  Leland was waiting by my car. I took a deep breath, determined not to let him intimidate me.

  “Can I help you with something?” I asked.

  “Is it true?”

  “What?”

  “What that cop said about Mr. Harvey. That he killed Ellie’s teacher.”

  I knew Jeffers had informed Armin. I was surprised Armin had shared the information with his kids.

  “Leland—”

  “It was his car. Mr. Harvey’s. It was his car I saw at the school that day. I told Da. After that day in the barn. He said not to tell. That Mr. Harvey couldn’t have been involved.”

  “It was an accident,” I said. “Mr. Harvey didn’t mean—”

  “Did he do that to you?”

  I wasn’t sure how much Jeffers had told Armin or, subsequently, how much Armin had passed along, so I stayed silent, hoping Leland wouldn’t press it.

  “My mom and Mr. Harvey’s wife were real close. When Ma died, and Da … they were really good to us.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want to say anything?”

  Leland’s gaze fell to the ground and his shoulders slumped. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s going to come out. In the papers, right? What are people going to think? His reputation …”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If it was an accident, then he’s not a murderer. Right? But people are going to think that anyway.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you so sure that’s what other people will think?”

  “Because …”

  “Leland?”

  He shuffled his feet and kicked at the wheel of my car.