by Vicki Delany
Jake bit off the question. What would Hila be doing hiding in the barn or the potting shed? “Sure, go ahead.”
“Mind the plants, please,” Joanne said. “Don’t trample them.”
McNeil gave her a smile. “I won’t.” She hesitated and glanced behind her at the man watching. He jerked his head and McNeil and Graves set off. Liz had returned to her chores in the greenhouse, but Connor watched, arms crossed.
“Ms. Manning,” the remaining man said to me. “I’d like a few minutes of your time.”
“My sister isn’t well,” Joanne jumped in. “Perhaps you can come back later.”
“It’s okay,” I said. The pill I’d taken was having no effect. My vision had narrowed to a pinprick and the pain was intense. “I want to help.”
“Who are you, anyway?” Jake said.
“Rick Brecken.”
“And you work for…?”
“The government,” Brecken replied. “Why don’t you give my buddies a hand? You wouldn’t want them stepping on your lettuce, now would you?”
Jake bristled. Joanne jumped in before he could say something he might regret. “I’ll help Hannah into the house.”
Conscious of Jake and what he thought of me, I said, “Go back to work. I’m fine.”
“I doubt that. But if you insist.”
Jake glowered at Brecken, and then turned and followed his wife.
I headed for the office door. The sun was strong and bright and my head was full of pain. Brecken could follow me. Or not.
CSIS or RCMP? CSIS probably. The Mounties would be more likely to identify themselves. I didn’t try to speculate as to what CSIS—the Canadian Security Intelligence Service—would want with a woman who’d not returned from an afternoon stroll in Prince Edward County. Hila Popalzai was from Afghanistan. She was a Muslim.
Enough said.
I kicked off my shoes and went into the kitchen. I dropped into a chair and closed my eyes. Brecken’s boots pounded the floorboards as he followed.
“You’re still having problems from the IED?” He’d pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.
I wasn’t surprised he knew who I was. These people didn’t care to find themselves in situations in which they didn’t know who all the players were and what was going on. No matter, hadn’t Maude Harrison said everyone in the county knew my story?
“Yeah.”
“Tough.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about Hila Popalzai.” He was in his early forties. Over six feet, well-tanned, short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, close-shaven, chest broad, neck thick. His skin was pitted with the ravages of teenage ache, and his penetrating black eyes gave nothing away.
I kept my eyes closed against waves of pain as I talked. “I have nothing to tell. She lived with Grant and Maude Harrison. As you see, I’m somewhat of an invalid. She and I found we enjoyed walking together most afternoons.”
“You talk much about Afghanistan?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. We didn’t talk much about anything. I never even told her I’d been there. That I’d been injured there. That I lost…people there. She just knew. She never talked about her past either.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Tough. It’s the truth.”
“Was she happy with the Harrisons?”
“Happy? I doubt she knows what that word means. She was safe, that would have been good enough for any Afghan woman.” I opened my eyes a sliver. Brecken sat at the end of a long back tunnel. “At least, she thought she was safe. Was she? Is she?”
“She’s gone missing.”
“I know that. It’s why you’re here, right. You think something’s happened to her.”
“I think nothing.”
“But you’re here. Looking for her.”
“If you didn’t talk about Afghanistan, did she have much to say about her family?”
“Nothing.”
“Again nothing?”
“That’s right. She told me not one solitary thing about her family. And I did not ask.”
“You must have told her something of your experiences in her country.”
“Mr. Brecken. I said that I did not. Therefore I did not. No doubt you expect that because I’m a journalist I’d be digging around trying to find out her story, but I didn’t meet her because I’m a journalist. I met her because I’m a woman who suffered a severe trauma and still gets incapacitating headaches. I find that walks in the woods help me. And it’s better for someone who isn’t always fully functioning to have company. Comprende?”
“What did she think about Grant and Maude Harrison?”
“Gee, you really don’t get it, do you? I don’t know what she thought about them. Because she didn’t fuckin’ tell me.”
“No need to get upset, Hannah.”
“I’m beginning to find your questions upsetting.” Arrogant fuckwit. The expression Simon used whenever he ran up against military obstinacy. Simon had a deep inbuilt loathing of bureaucracy. This Brecken would have gotten under Simon’s skin. An MI5-wanna-be. Probably took his tea shaken not stirred. For a moment my mind drifted, and I thought of Simon, yelling and stomping about our hotel room in Dubai because…I couldn’t remember what he’d been so mad about.
“Did she seem happy there?” Brecken kept on.
“Sure. Like Buddy the dog seems happy. She didn’t cower in terror every time they approached.”
“No need to get sarcastic.”
“No need to keep hounding me.”
“Hannah, I’m not hounding you, and I apologize if you think I am. You seem to be the only person, apart from the Harrisons and the folks at the mosque in Belleville, who she spent any time with. Of course I want to know what you talked about.”
“Nothing. Like I said. We talked about almost nothing. She told me about her studies. She’s taking university courses online. I got the feeling, just a feeling, that she’s content here. She liked the woods. We went to the beach a few times in May and she loved it. She said she’d never seen the ocean until she was on the plane coming here and Lake Ontario seems limitless, like the sea. But once the crowds started coming she didn’t want to go any more. She smiled at Maude and Grant if they said something amusing, and she did seem fond of their dog, Buddy.” She asked me what it meant to be free. I didn’t tell Brecken that.
“Are your sister and her husband good friends with the Harrisons?”
“Not at all. We hardly ever see them. Grant Harrison was here last night, looking for Hila. He’d never been in this house before. I don’t think his wife has either.”
“Thank you, Hannah.” His chair scraped across the floor.
“What’s your interest? You’re CSIS, Mr. Brecken. You don’t normally spend your valuable time helping local cops search for adult women who’ve been missing for less than twenty-four hours.”
The edges of his mouth turned up. It made him look almost human. “If you remember anything or can think of anywhere Ms. Popalzai might have gone, call the local O.P.P. detachment. They’ll get a message to me.”
“I have absolutely no doubt about that.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brecken left and I remained in my chair, trying to relax. The pain in my head retreated, ever so slightly, and the tunnel that was my range of vision expanded. When I heard voices outside I went to the living room and stood at the windows looking out over the driveway. Sergeant McNeil came back with Constable Graves. They spoke briefly to Brecken, then got into their respective cars and drove away without a backward glance.
“No sign of her,” Joanne said from behind me. I hadn’t heard her come in.
“I guessed not.”
“They said they have a dog going
through the woods. If she’s…injured, he should find her.”
“That’s good.”
“And they’re checking all the properties along the road. Hannah, Jake and I have been thinking.”
“I have too,” I said quickly. She was going to tell me I had to move out. Go to Mom and Dad’s. Or the loony bin. “I was considering seeing if I can move back into my condo early. Maybe pay the tenants off to get them to leave.”
She reached out and touched my shoulder. “You can’t live on your own. Not yet.”
“You’re probably right. Anyway, now that I’m seeing that doctor in Picton I wouldn’t want to go back to Toronto. So, I’ve decided that even though you turned me down earlier, I’m going to start paying my way.”
“No, Hannah.”
“Yes. I’m still being paid by the paper. Seventy percent long-term disability insurance. I’ve nothing to spend it on out here. The rent from my tenant covers the mortgage on my condo.” I gave her a smile.
She studied my face. “I won’t say we couldn’t use the money. Farming doesn’t exactly lead to a lavish lifestyle. But we get by, and I don’t want to be paid for helping my sister.”
“I’m not going to pay you. Just help out.”
To my considerable surprise she began to cry. I gathered her into my arms and held her. For the first time in a long while I was the one doing the sheltering, the comforting. Omar slipped away. “Gee,” I said at last, “what brought this on?”
She pulled back and wiped a hand across her eyes. “We’ve been having some problems, Jake and me. Nothing big, mind, but it’s hard sometimes working together all the time. Worrying about the farm. ”
“Is the farm in trouble?”
She shook her head and rummaged in her copious pockets for a tissue. “Nothing in particular. Nothing new. It’s a tough business. A couple of CSA shareholders dropped out this year. We rely on the money from the CSA to get us up and running before we start earning any cash from what we grow. All the expense is in the spring; all the profit in the fall. The WWOOFERS won’t be coming. They got a better offer out in B.C. We need them. Jake’s not happy with Connor. He says the guy puts up a nice front about wanting to be a farmer, but slacks off whenever he can. Disappears sometimes. Jake was planning to sack Connor soon as the WWOOFERS arrived. Now, I guess we’re stuck with him. Lucky to have reliable farm help at all.”
“I’m glad I can help out then.”
“You’ll make Lily very happy.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t know, yet, but Jake’s decided we have to sell the horses.”
“Oh, no.”
“Two useless mouths to feed, he calls them. Just another expense.” She ran her hand lightly down my arm. “Maybe you could offer to support them?”
“Sure. Be glad to.”
Joanne punched me. “You’re not so bad, you know. For an older sister.”
“You turned out okay, too.”
“I gotta get back to work. Don’t say anything to Jake, eh? Farmers get pretty upset at what they think is charity.”
“I won’t.”
“Maybe mention you’d like to help Lily by paying for the upkeep of the horses.”
She started to walk away and turned back to me. “You haven’t been to the doctor in a while. You should, you know. I can tell you’re not feeling well right now.”
I shifted my feet and glanced to one side. “I’m okay,” I mumbled.
“Make an appointment, Hannah. Please.”
***
Charlie was the first child home from day camp. He burst through the doors, scarcely able to talk around a mouthful of excitement. He’d seen police cars, lining the road outside the Harrison property. And policemen walking along the shoreline. And a boat, a big white police boat, searching the water. Could he go and watch, he asked his mother. Maybe he’d find a clue.
She sent him off with a DVD she’d been saving for a special occasion.
Lily, however, was not so easy to discourage.
“They’re not even using Buddy,” she complained. “Buddy will be able to find her. Buddy knows her, that police dog doesn’t.”
“The police dog’s trained to search,” Joanne said, “Buddy’ll run off after a rabbit. Do you want juice or milk?”
“But…”
“Lily, please. Let the police do what they do, okay?”
“Aunt Hannah, have you shown them where Hila and you went walking?”
“Lily, drop it!” her mother ordered.
“But…”
“We understand that you care,” I said. “I care and so does your mom. If the police want our help they’ll ask for it.”
She pouted. “I’ll have another look around our land. Dad might have overlooked something. Dad’s never met Hila, he doesn’t know what she looks like.”
Joanne knew when she was defeated. “Stay out of the vegetables and don’t put a foot off our property. I have to get back outside, and I’ll be watching, young lady. If I see a toe cross the boundary you’ll be in trouble.” She gave me a look, and I said, “I’ll come with you, Lily. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
Lily and I walked the perimeter of the farm. Lily kept her eyes on the ground, although I knew it was a useless exercise. Jake had searched, the police had searched, and the farm workers had been told to keep watch. Still, it made Lily think she was doing something to help her friend, and that was important.
Connor and Liz were weeding lettuce; Allison harvested eggplant. An airplane, painted dark gray with no markings, no doubt from the big military base nearby, flew overhead, drawing a white line in the soft blue sky.
We found nothing at all out of the ordinary.
Lily continued to worry. While I set the table for dinner and Joanne stirred the pasta, Lily called Maude Harrison to ask if there was any news. We would tell by the look on her face as she hung up the phone that there wasn’t.
It was understandable, I thought, her anxiety about her friend. Neither of her parents had ever met Hila; thus there was no intimacy to their concern. I thought they didn’t fully understand how this was affecting their daughter. Lily’s a ten-year-old girl, loved, protected, cared for and nourished. Safe in her world.
I watched her twirling pasta in her fork and felt my heart break.
Chapter Sixteen
Saturday morning I came downstairs to a pouting Lily and an exasperated Joanne.
“I can’t take the day off whether you and Ashley are disappointed or not, and that’s all there is to it,” my sister was saying.
She was at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. Lily stood by the French doors, glaring at her mother. She wore jeans faded with layers of deeply ground-in dirt. Her arms were crossed over her thin chest and, as the saying goes, if looks could kill…
“Problem?” I grabbed a mug from the drying rack. I could guess what the problem was. Last night after supper Joanne had tried to pull Lily out of her funk by talking about today’s riding adventure. It had worked and Lily cheered up and began bubbling over with enthusiasm at the prospect of going riding with a friend and the friend’s mother.
It worked too well, I suspected, as this morning the brown riding helmet sat on the counter, abandoned.
“Mom won’t let Ashley and me go riding by ourselves,” Lily huffed. “She says we’re too young.”
“Enough, Lily,” Joanne warned, tasting the oatmeal.
The girl made a face, after first ensuring her mother’s back was turned.
“What happened?” I rummaged in the cupboard for a tea bag. “You said last night your friend’s mom was taking you girls out.”
“That was Rachel, Ashley’s mom, on the phone just now,” Joanne said. “She fell in the night and twisted her ankle. The ride’s off.”
&nbs
p; “Does Ashley have her own horse?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll take you,” I said to Lily.
Her face broke into a wide smile. “Great!”
Joanne wasn’t quite so enthusiastic. “You most certainly will not.”
“Why not? You have two horses, so there’s one for me. You have two saddles and all the equipment. I’d enjoy going for a ride.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t ride.”
“Of course I can. You must remember all the riding we did as girls.”
“That was a long time ago. When was the last time you were on a horse?”
“As a matter of fact, it was the summer before last. When I went on a week-long horsepacking excursion in Alberta for my vacation. Six to seven hours a day on horseback, wilderness, steep mountain trails. Makes what you have around here a walk in the park.”
“You sent pictures,” Lily said. “That was so fantastic. You said you’ll take me one year.”
Joanne turned to face me, the large wooden spoon, dripping oatmeal, held up in front of her like a weapon. “And suppose you start feeling ill, Hannah. What then?”
“If that should happen, I’ll bring the girls home. We aren’t talking about going into the backcountry. We’ll be what, a maximum of fifteen minutes, half an hour, from home at the most.”
Lily was staring at her mother with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Besides,” I said, “the doctor told me I need to get more fresh air and exercise.”
“Lily,” Joanne said, “go to your room for a few minutes. I want to talk to your aunt.”
The girl jumped off her chair, smile back in place. “Does that mean yes?”
“It means I want to talk to your aunt.”
Lily gave me a thumbs up and left the room.
“I can ride, Joanne,” I said. “Very well. That’s not an issue. I’m feeling good this morning.” That was true. I’d had a proper night’s sleep and my head was just fine. I’d been to the barn a couple of times to admire the horses, and I’d helped Lily brush them down and pour feed or water, but I’d had no interest at all in riding until I saw Lily’s disappointed face and realized that in this one thing, at least, I could help.
