by Alison Bruce
“What’s up? We just had our ducts cleaned last November,” Walter said, having let himself in the back door.
He’d knocked first but, as usual, he didn’t wait for me to let him in. He’d been in and out of my house so often doing minor repairs, he no longer observed that formality. A short bing announced his arrival. It told me when a door or window was being opened.
“That ringing has got to get annoying after a while,” he added.
“I’m getting used to it,” I said. “As for the duct cleaning, I was offered a deal for early cleaning.”
“But we usually do ducts every other year.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking fast, “but with the smoke bomb earlier this year, I didn’t want to risk there being residue in the ducts. Besides, the price was right.”
Free.
“Maybe I should see if they can do my place,” Walter said after consideration. “I don’t want to turn the furnace on in October and have another allergy attack. I’ll tell you, that smoke bomb almost put me in the hospital.”
Now what? I decided to let the pros handle it.
“I’ll go ask. Why don’t you pour yourself a coffee?”
They were good. They offered to do Walter’s ducts for the price that I was allegedly paying. They even told me that they’d put me down as the referral and the office would be sending me a discount voucher for my next cleaning.
“The kids will be home today, right?” Walter asked, after signing the work order.
“They’re off camping for a week,” I said. “I miss them, of course, but they’re really enjoying themselves so . . .”
“Oh well, at least you’ll get lots of work done, right? I’m looking forward to your next book launch. I think I’ve found you a new fan, a lovely lady in my square-dancing group. Not her, actually, but her teenage son. He’s really into sci-fi. Let me know when you’re doing your next bookstore appearance and I’ll bring him to meet you.”
Walter excused himself shortly after that and I locked the back door behind him. It was a habit I had to get into. Despite the murder, Detective Parrino’s lecture, Kallas’s earnest advice, and Merrick’s rules, I still kept forgetting.
No longer. Not me. No more surprise guests if I could help it.
I didn’t get my wish, but my next surprise started off very pleasantly. Geoff came down from Toronto to visit for the day. I put together a picnic lunch and we ate it in the park by the river. Since he was one of the few people I could talk to about what was going on, I had talked to him when I’d visited Paula. Now he gave me reason to regret it.
“I have a proposition for you,” he announced.
I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
“Not that kind of proposition,” he chuckled. “I have a friend, a cop, who’s taking a course locally. He needs a place to stay for a few months—a semester I guess. If you have a spare room, he could board with you a while and . . .”
“And guard me when he’s not in class?”
I’d been there and done that with Nate. In fact, I was wishing I could take the kids back to Ottawa and our protected life there. It wasn’t just that I felt more secure, I missed having Nate around. I wasn’t sure I wanted a stranger in my house, however.
“I doubt Merrick will go for it,” I said.
“Will you let me ask him?”
Since I figured Merrick would say no anyway, I nodded. A day later, Merrick invited me out for coffee at one of the campus coffee shops, explaining that he didn’t want to come around the house and tip off anyone keeping an eye on me.
He pulled out his tablet and pulled up the photos he wanted me to look at. I went through them twice before a memory was twigged.
“I’ve seen her before.” I pointed out a mousy looking woman who could have been my age or ten years older or younger. It was hard to tell. “I’ve seen her at Starbucks. She doesn’t hang around any longer than it takes to pick up a half dozen coffees of various descriptions.”
“You’re sure? You didn’t pick her out before.”
“Pretty sure.” I shrugged. “She’s out of context. When I see her at Starbucks she’s in work dress, always a bit frazzled as if she has too much to do, but professional looking. Here,” I tapped the tablet screen, “she’s in a T-shirt, not much make up and a lot less frazzled looking. But I think she’s the woman I see.”
Merrick nodded. “It’s a start. Anyone else?”
“Not in this group.” I pushed the tablet back toward him and rubbed my eyes. “Has Geoff called you about getting his friend to play bodyguard?”
“It’s not a bad idea.” He called up a file on his tablet. “The officer’s name is Rick Court.”
“No way. Seth’s cousin? He flirted with me at Seth and Sarah’s wedding.”
This derailed Merrick momentarily. “You went to your ex’s wedding?”
“Why not? Besides, Hope was the flower girl and Boone was the ring bearer. I couldn’t miss that.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“It was a big wedding,” I explained.
Another head shake. “It’s weird, but the relationship will help explain why he’s staying with you. He can use the pullout couch in the basement.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t putting him on one of the bunk beds in Boone’s room.”
“That’s where Nate will be staying.”
My turn to be nonplussed.
“Nate’s arranged to take courses related to his program here,” Merrick explained. “His idea, not mine. Naturally, this is with your approval.”
I wasn’t all that surprised. Nate had adopted us. I know he enjoyed being a big brother to my kids.
“Okay,” I said. “But if Nate’s here, why do I need Rick?”
“Court’s a detective,” Merrick replied. “He’s worked undercover and he’s taken courses in behavioural analysis. That’s why he’s coming here. Your College of Social Sciences has a program in forensic psychology.”
I knew that. Seth was on the faculty of that college. His colleagues were my first clients.
I wanted to ask if we could move back to Ottawa, but it was hardly fair to Merrick. I wanted to ask if I could have Zeke instead of Court—or better still—have Merrick.
“It’s the best I can do,” he said, just loud enough to cut through my mental quagmire. “We don’t have enough evidence that our quarry is still interested in you to keep tying up manpower on your protection.”
I nodded, rebuked. “Nate is welcome to stay as long as he wants,” I said, trying to sound resolute. “Court can stay with us too—for the semester—if he’s okay with that. I know it’ll make Geoff feel better.”
Merrick took one of my hands in his and gave it a squeeze, prompting me to make eye contact with him. He looked tired and worried, but he managed a tiny smile.
“It will make me feel better too.”
CHAPTER 10
Geoff arranged a day at the Canadian National Exhibition so the kids and I could get acquainted with Rick Court, or reacquainted in my case. We hadn’t been to the CNE in a couple of years, so this was a big treat for Hope and Boone. Since they didn’t know Geoff well either, Paula was invited to join the party so they wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Considering what my kids had been through, I didn’t think they’d be overwhelmed that easily.
Tom was not invited.
Paula was giving him a time out for getting too possessive. It was a bit awkward, what with Geoff and Tom being buddies. As with most things, Geoff treated the situation with calm, good humour. Tom would be excluded, but no doubt briefed later on how the love of his life was handling their separation.
We met on the foot bridge that linked the CNE with the Ontario Place parking lot. Hope, Boone, and I had driven into Toronto the day before and camped out in Paula’s living room. Though it meant a hefty parking charge, we took the car to the fairgrounds so we could continue west and go home at the end of the day. Paula would then take the streetcar home, or splurge and take a cab, depending on the state of
her feet.
“Gees, Pru,” Geoff called out from about ten metres away, “did you shrink since I last saw you?”
I looked to my son and daughter, who were standing at either side of me. Boone had just caught up with his sister and they were both about an inch taller than me.
“I can’t believe you’re the same kids I met last spring,” he said, shaking his head.
“They’re growing like weeds,” Paula agreed. “I blame the cadet camp.”
“I’d like to hear about that,” Geoff said, giving Hope and Boone an encouraging smile each. “But first, I’d like to introduce you to one of your cousins, Rick Court.”
The kids didn’t need the introduction. They’d met him at family barbecues at the farm. I wouldn’t have been able to place him.
Court didn’t look much like a cop. He was built like a bouncer—the kind you’d expect to meet in an Irish pub —well muscled but not extraordinarily tall. I came up to his chin. He looked like he could be anywhere from thirty to forty-five years of age. His eyes were grey-green, or maybe green-grey, which reminded me of Lake Huron. He seemed vaguely familiar, but not like the guy who tried to hit on me years ago.
He caught me staring and a quick grin took his face from okay to very attractive, and that sense of familiarity grew.
I caught Geoff watching me, silently laughing at me.
I blushed.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Court asked.
I didn’t know Seth’s family well. Until I had the twins, I hadn’t even met his parents. You don’t take the woman you’re living with home to meet the big Irish-Catholic family. Just before Hope and Boone’s first Christmas, we were summoned to The Family Farm by Seth’s maternal grandmother, Nana Morgan. It was the first and last family gathering I was invited to, and the pressure put on us to get properly married may have been the straw that broke our relationship’s back.
“We met you at Seth’s wedding,” I said, not remembering if he was one of the many cousins I met at the farm.
“I was one of his groomsmen. Got to admit, when Seth first asked, I thought he was finally making an honest woman of you. I was surprised to find out you weren’t the bride.”
“But not heartbroken.”
That produced an awkward silence and a couple of funny looks from my children.
“Rick works undercover most of the time,” Geoff said, jumping into the conversational breach. “When he comes up for air, he teaches martial arts.”
“I teach self-defence to women,” Court corrected. Then he winked at Paula and I. “It’s a great way to get dates.”
I gave an eye roll. “Uh-huh.”
“Are we going or what?” asked Paula. She grabbed Court’s arm and steered him toward the fair grounds. “You’re cute,” she told him. “If I hadn’t sworn off cops, I’d give you a shot.”
Geoff offered his arm to Hope, and Boone slung an arm around my shoulder—something he loved doing now that he was tall enough. He leaned into me and whispered, “Are you sure you want this guy to live with us?”
I wasn’t sure at all.
By the end of the day, Rick had redeemed himself, with my kids if nothing else. He played the games, rode the rides and matched Boone, corn dog for corn dog. He won Hope over the moment he promised to share case stories with her. She was reworking her novel all the way home, making notes, even though it made her carsick.
I guess he made an impact on me too. I wouldn’t have recognized him from the wedding. That must have been back in his beat cop days because he was clean-cut, less rough around the edges than the man I met today. Yet, this version was more familiar for some reason. It wasn’t the family resemblance to Seth, that’s for sure. I started thinking in Star Trek terms and I wracked my brains to find someone to match with Rick. I was still working on it while we crawled through heavy traffic going out of town.
Three days later, Rick moved into our basement. Thanks to Zeke, the only preparation we had to make was to move the few things Zeke kept in the dresser for the duration. All the boxes were gone, reduced to a utility shelf full of bins. Thanks to Walter keeping my weeds at bay, there was even natural light coming in through the high windows looking out on my scenic driveway.
“This is better than I expected,” Rick announced, pausing on the stairs behind me so he could get the high view. “When I hear the word basement, something else comes to mind.”
“This basement was something else a year ago.” I shook my head. “Less than a year ago . . . but it seems like a life time ago now.”
“I hear ya.”
His tone snapped me out of my own funk and into his. When I turned to face him, he was still smiling, but behind the smile, he had shut down emotionally. Eight months ago, I would have just accepted that his business was his business. Now that my own life had been picked apart, I had a different attitude.
“Handy that you happened to be taking a course just when I might need protection,” I said as I went to the bathroom and turned on the light.
Towels and fresh soap had already been set out. I opened the cupboard under the sink to show where we kept the extra toilet paper.
“I’m taking three courses,” he said, “and I was going to hit up Seth for a place to stay, then Geoff mentioned your problem. The timing had less to do with you and more to do with my ex.”
“Ex-wife?”
“Ex-girlfriend . . . well, we were living together for almost three years so I suppose she was my common-law wife. She kicked me out a couple of months ago. She thought I was cheating on her.”
“Were you?” I asked, then cringed immediately. That really wasn’t my business.
“No.”
He had put his bags on the couch that would pull out to be his bed and was leaning on the armrest.
“Anything else you want to know?” he asked.
His tone was quite pleasant. He still had a smile on his face. Yet, I felt warned. I covered my embarrassment with a noncommittal shrug and went to the dresser.
“The top drawer has two locked compartments,” I said. “One for your gun, the other for your ammunition. There’s room in between for socks and underwear. At least, that’s what Zeke kept there.”
“Zeke?”
“Detective Zeke Chan,” I said.
“One of the Mounties.”
“Right. Now also a friend of the family. He took care of my house while we were . . . away.”
I suddenly realized that I’d have to talk to Merrick about how much I was allowed to tell Rick. Most of my story was common knowledge now, but although I told the news media my kids and I had to go into protective custody, I never mentioned where. There were other details too, like the surveillance cameras set up on my back fence, not to mention all the security set up in the house now.
I guess I had to mention some of that, enough so he wouldn’t accidentally set off the alarms. I decided to consult Merrick first. It was as good an excuse as any to call him.
“I’ll leave you to settle in,” I said. “Nate and the kids are bringing pizza back with them. They should be home by six.”
“Nate is the son of one of the Mounties. He’s bunking in with Boone.” Since I hadn’t had the chance to fill him in on the details, I guessed Rick had been briefed by Geoff. “Full house.”
“Top to bottom,” I agreed. “You may regret not going to Seth and Sarah’s place.”
Despite the awkwardness, he flashed me a bright, full-toothed smile, brimming with good humour and self-assurance.
“Not at all,” he assured me. “I can tell already that you and I are going to be good friends.”
That’s when it hit me. He was a Commander Riker.
Well, if he thought I was the space-babe of the week, he had another thing coming.
* * *
The next few weeks were strained, yet oddly entertaining.
Nate moved into Boone’s room and, in many ways, took up where he left off last spring. Every weekday we walked the kids to school. Sinc
e it wasn’t far, Nate had us walk the long way home—power-walking—so I’d get my exercise. He arranged his classes so that he could meet the kids after school too. Boone tolerated this out of affection for Nate. Hope started off enjoying the attention—after all, Nate was a good looking guy—but it got old for her pretty quick. She wanted to hang out with her friends, not go straight home after school every day.
During the day, Nate wanted to organize my time so that he would be with me when I had to run errands. When I wasn’t with him, I was supposed to stay safely at home, although he grudgingly admitted that I could go out with Rick and he had no problem with me socializing with Kallas, since she was also a police officer. I understood his reasoning all too well. Now that we knew that I had been under surveillance for years, my friends and acquaintances came under closer scrutiny. Even I wasn’t sure who I could trust outside my family and a small circle of men and women in uniform.
Rick was much more relaxed in attitude. Once he found out about Hope and Boone’s radio/phone with panic button, he said he couldn’t see why the kids shouldn’t be allowed to visit their friends.
“They’re smart. They’re safety conscious. They’ll be with kids and adults they know well,” Rick pointed out. “Give them some credit for being able to take care of themselves.”
Wrong move.
Nate didn’t say anything but his face went stony—reminding me of his father. Hope and Boone, who were in agreement with Rick up until then, realized that Nate was under attack and jumped to his defence.
“Nate gives us credit,” said Boone, “and he’s taught us to take care of ourselves. Mom too,” he added, in case I felt slighted.
“If Nate thinks it’s not safe for us to walk home alone, I won’t complain anymore,” Hope said, striking a determined pose. “He helped make us feel safe after the attack.”
“And the Sarge,” added my meticulously fair son, “and Zeke.”
“Yeah, of course,” his sister snapped, “but they aren’t here right now so you don’t have to stand up for them.”
Call me petty, but I was glad Rick hadn’t won my kids over completely. Loyalty is a virtue I admire and I admired it with some amusement for a few minutes before intervening.
