Shallow End

by Brenda Chapman

  She started across Macdonnell Street toward her house and felt in her jacket pocket for her lighter. Her fingers brushed a hard piece of something. She pulled it out and looked at Officer Stonechild’s name and phone number on a business card. The card she’d shoved in her pocket with no intention of using. She walked past her house and kept going as she flicked the card with her fingers, forgetting about the unlit cigarette in her mouth.

  When she reached Johnson, she shoved the card back into her jacket and pulled out the lighter. Chill, she told herself. It isn’t time yet to do something desperate. Let this Charlie-cop thing play out before you throw yourselves on the mercy of a stranger who might or might not help get you out of this mess. Charlie knows better than to open his mouth.

  She lit her cigarette and continued on, hoping her mom had bought something good for a snack. She hadn’t eaten all day and her stomach was rumbling. She picked up her pace. Charlie might already be home waiting for her to show up, and she’d have worried for nothing.

  The hours had trudged by like a caterpillar crossing a football field, which Naomi found fitting since Adam was off watching kids run around one. She surveyed her classroom and saw twenty-eight heads bent over the math test she’d given them twenty minutes earlier. Fifteen minutes to go and they’d be handing in their papers. Ten minutes after that and they’d be leaving for the day. Quarter to four couldn’t come soon enough.

  The anticipation waiting for her rendezvous with Liam had her excited and apprehensive at the same time. She imagined the trouble she’d be in if Adam found out — but he wouldn’t find out. He was miles away at the track meet and not due home until six. She’d be back with Ben and Olivia at five and he’d be none the wiser. One hour with Liam might be rushed, but that would make the sex exciting. Hopefully, it would be the first of many encounters. She let herself daydream. She’d leave Adam for Liam once the school year ended — they could both transfer to another school or town where Adam wouldn’t cross their paths and get an apartment together. Adam was becoming more and more like a father and a tyrant in her mind as she rationalized what she was about to do. Some part of her knew she was making him into the bad guy to ease her own guilt, but really, she was too young to settle down with a man who had two kids half her age.

  A man stalking his ex-con ex-wife with a camera.

  Since they only had an hour, Liam had suggested they skip the Holiday Inn and she come to his apartment, which was near Queen’s University. He’d kept his place after graduating the year before while starting off as a supply teacher. She hadn’t dared put his address into her phone in case Adam checked, but Liam had passed it to her on a piece of paper with directions. She would destroy the paper once she got there.

  She checked the clock. “Five minutes left before you hand in your papers,” she announced to the class.

  And half an hour until I’m lying in bed naked with Liam Brody.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Feel like stopping in at the Merchant for a late lunch?” Gundersund asked after checking his watch.

  Kala nodded. “I could eat.”

  They’d spent the morning watching Woodhouse interview Charlie Hanson with a finesse that had surprised them both. She hadn’t had anything to eat since an early breakfast of granola and a glass of orange juice before she left the house at seven thirty.

  Twenty minutes later, they were at their regular table in the room to the right of the entrance. Kala liked the feel of the bar, a limestone building built in the 1800s near the waterfront that had been a working warehouse with horses on the premises. It retained the warehouse feel with rough-hewn plank floors, fireplaces, red brick and limestone walls, and dark beamed ceilings. Even the tables and chairs were dark wood and utilitarian. A long bar extended across the back wall with a stage set up to its left where bands played on the weekends. The team had come one Friday and found wall-to-wall people standing and listening to a rock band from Toronto. Kala was pleased to find the place nearly empty now since the lunchtime crowd had already been and departed.

  They placed their food order — two whisky burgers with onion rings — and Gundersund asked for a pint of the local Beau’s beer while Kala went with coffee.

  “Who knew Charlie and Woodhouse had so much in common,” Gundersund said after taking a sip of beer. “Both into extreme fighting on television and video games that involve a lot of guns and killing.”

  Kala smiled. “The two of them almost seem as if they were separated at birth.”

  Gundersund looked thoughtful. “I sometimes underestimate Woodhouse. It’s easy to forget that he’s a half-decent cop because he acts like such a chauvinistic asshole most of the time.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me.”

  “Still, he didn’t get anything useful out of the kid.”

  “Not for lack of trying, although I got the impression that Charlie is scared. Something is going on, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I got the same read, but whatever it is has him as tight-lipped as a clam.”

  “Didn’t know clams had lips. You are a walking biology lesson.” She smiled at him and stirred cream into her coffee. She’d give anything to see inside Charlie’s brain. “Do you think he might be in danger? If he knows who killed Devon or why …”

  “So maybe locking him up for the afternoon isn’t as hare-brained as I thought.”

  “I doubt that’s why Woodhouse decided to put Charlie into a cell for a few hours. I think he’s trying to shake him up so that he’ll talk.”

  Gundersund took another swallow of beer. “Good luck with that. Mrs. Hanson was on her way to the station, and she said Charlie wouldn’t be saying another word without a lawyer. By the way, Rouleau told me this morning that the tail on Jane Thompson was pulled altogether.”

  “You’re kidding.” She paused. Nobody is watching Jane. “Why?”

  “Resources mainly. Rouleau wants her brought in again tomorrow for another round of questions.”

  “He’s hoping someone is going to crack.”

  “You sound doubtful.”

  “Because I am.”

  Their food arrived along with a couple that took the table next to them, ending their discussion about the case. When they’d finished eating, Gundersund checked his phone. “Rouleau wants one of us to watch the next round between Woodhouse and Charlie. Should we flip for it?”

  “If you’d be okay doing it, I’d owe you one.”

  “Do you have something on?”

  “I have some research I’d like to follow up.” She returned his stare. “Nothing dangerous, I promise.”

  “Okay.” He sighed loudly. “I’ll take this one for the Gipper, but you’ll have to pay up at a time of my choosing, Stonechild.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m promising you my first-

  born?” She signalled their waitress to bring their bills. “Although I am awfully grateful to skip another couple of hours of watching Charlie Hanson slumped in a chair avoiding saying anything intelligible.”

  “He’s not the wordiest of kids. He might be bright, but it’s hard to tell.”

  Kala thought about that. Everyone said how brilliant Devon was but none had said the same of Charlie. A few teachers had observed that Charlie was smart enough but not in the same league as Devon. Nobody had had much to say about Charlie except that he was creepy. She wondered about their mismatched relationship and whether something had happened between the two of them that had made Charlie turn on his childhood friend and bash his brains in.

  Gundersund drove them back to the station and she got her truck from the lot. Knowing that Jane was free to roam without someone keeping tabs made Kala uneasy. From her hiding place in the backyard the evening before, she’d watched Jane at the window and had known in her bones that this woman was up to something.

  It was after three when Kala parked in the Salvation Army’s parki
ng lot. She sat in the truck for a few minutes checking out the store and deciding whether or not she should go in. Jane wouldn’t be getting off shift until four according to the schedule the parole officer had sent to them the week before. The clouds were thickening off to the east but the rain was on hold for now. She got out of the truck and stretched.

  An East Indian woman came out of the store and walked a few paces away from the entrance. She turned her back to the wind and lit a cigarette. Kala crossed the parking lot until she was a few feet away from her. “Do you work in the store?”

  “I’m the manager. Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Jane Thompson. Is she off at four?”

  “Jane left early for an appointment about an hour ago.”

  Kala pulled out her badge. “I understood she was working until four today. Weren’t you supposed to call in to her parole officer if she changed her schedule?”

  The woman put her hands on her hips. Her tone was defensive. “I would have but she told me that she’d made the call herself. She volunteered the information so I thought … well, maybe she told her parole officer and they didn’t tell you?”

  “Not that I know of, but I’ll check into it.”

  As Kala walked back to her truck, she called the parole officer. He was away for the afternoon but his assistant said that Jane had not called that week. Kala considered the facts as she opened her truck door. Jane had left work early the first day she wasn’t being watched. She’d lied to her manager about telling her parole officer. Nothing terrible in and of itself, but Kala remembered the look on Jane’s face the evening before as she stood in the window, her feeling that Jane was waiting for something to happen.

  Kala decided to swing by Jane’s apartment before placing a call to Rouleau to have Jane tracked down and brought in.

  Jane made one final check of the apartment, not sorry to leave this dismal place behind. She’d taken the bus back from the store with enough time to freshen up before lifting the floorboard and retrieving the passports and car keys from their hiding place. She’d been overly cautious but hadn’t wanted to carry them on her person in case the police had done a spot check. If they had stopped her, they wouldn’t have had any reason to be suspicious and she would have simply changed the timing of her plan.

  Still on cautious mode, she exited the apartment building by the back entrance and entered the alleyway through the hole in the fence. The car would be waiting for her two streets over. She looked up at the sky, or what she could see of it through the trees and over the housetops. The air was cooling and the clouds were leaden and grey. She hoped the rain would hold off until after supper.

  Walking quickly, she cut diagonally across College Street to Park and followed it to Helen, where she turned north toward Franklin Place. The silver Mazda 3 was in the empty warehouse parking lot right where Hieu told her it would be in the note he’d left with the keys in her mailbox two days earlier. She was grateful that he’d fulfilled his promise and chosen a car that lots of people owned and that wouldn’t attract notice. She gave silent thanks to her new guardian angel and checked all around her before unlocking the door and getting inside. Hieu had left a package of butterscotch mints and bottles of water on the passenger seat along with a roadmap, which she tucked into the console. He’d warned her not to use a GPS or any other location device because she could be tracked.

  Fifteen minutes later and she stopped at the curb, one block down the street from Calvin Park School. The anticipation and excitement in her chest were almost too much to bear. She didn’t exhale until she saw Ben and Olivia standing on the sidewalk, Ben searching up and down the street with anxious eyes. They’d both grown so tall but she’d have known them anywhere. When Ben saw her, he poked Olivia and they both turned their faces toward her car and relief replaced the worry. Olivia raised her hands and clapped. They raced over, and Ben opened the back door and Olivia climbed in while Ben got into the front.

  “Mom! You made it.” Ben was smiling at her with such delight it made Jane’s heart hurt.

  “Mom!” Olivia called as she slid across the back seat until she was behind Jane and could wrap her arm around Jane’s neck. Jane held on to her arm and leaned her head into Olivia’s.

  “I’m so happy to see you both, but we have to get moving. We can give big hugs once we’re safely away, so sit back Olivia and put on your seat belt.” Already, Jane had eased the car away from the curb and turned toward the shortest route out of Kingston.

  “We did what you said and left all our clothes and stuff. I don’t care about any of it anyway.” Ben grinned at her. “We just want to be with you.”

  Olivia called from the back seat, “We missed you so much, Mommy.”

  “And I so, so missed you both.” Jane smiled at Olivia in the rear-view mirror. “Are you ready for an adventure, my sweet Olive?”

  “I am! I am!”

  Ben opened the map tucked between his seat and the console. “Where are we going to cross?”

  “I’m going to drive to the Thousand Island Bridge, and rush hour should still be on so hopefully we won’t be looked at too closely. I have passports. Your name is Peter, and Olivia, your new name is Carey.”

  “Carey. I love that name,” Olivia said.

  “Good,” said Jane, “because you’re going to be called Carey from now on.”

  “And what’s your new name, Mommy?” asked Olivia.

  “I’m going to be Maureen. Our new last name is Bedard because it’s a really common surname.”

  “Where are we going to be living?” asked Ben.

  She glanced at him. “We’re going to a place outside of Pittsburgh for tonight. There’s already an apartment lined up for us but we won’t stay there for long. We’ll decide where we want to live in a week or two.”

  “Good.” Ben sat back and looked out the side window. “Goodbye, Kingston,” he said. “Been good to know ya.”

  “What did you say to Naomi about coming home late from school?”

  “She has an appointment and won’t be home until five. Dad is on that field trip I told you about. I left a message on Naomi’s voice mail when I knew she was in class saying that I’d be taking Olivia to the library for an after-school activity that my teacher told me about.” Ben smiled at Jane. “It’s lame but should buy us some time. Naomi isn’t as strict as Dad.”

  Olivia piped up from the back seat. “Naomi leaves us alone. She wishes we weren’t there.”

  “Well her wish is coming true,” Ben said. “I typed notes from Dad to say we had to get out of class early and I forged his name. I practised writing his name a lot.”

  Jane looked at him and grimaced. “That’s the last time you do anything like that. I don’t want you turning into a thief or anything.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “Did you leave your cellphone in your locker?”

  “I did better than that. I turned it off and hid it at my friend’s house in their shed in the garden tools. They’ll never find it because they’re done with their garden for the season.”

  “Good. I threw away the one I was using to contact you.”

  “We’re all set, then.” Ben settled back in his seat.

  Jane took a hand from the wheel and reached over to hold his. “Thanks for not giving up on me. You and Olivia are all that has been keeping me going.”

  “We know you didn’t do what they said.”

  Jane didn’t dare look over at her son, her little boy now almost a teenager. His belief in her had never wavered, not even when everyone around him — and even she — had given up. She wasn’t the same person as before all this began, and the proof wasn’t hard to find. Here she was stealing her two kids away from their father and home, not sure if this was best for them or just for her.

  She may have ruined their childhoods, but God help her, she couldn’t give them up.
r />   CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Gundersund dropped by Rouleau’s office after three more hours spent watching Woodhouse interview Charlie. He filled two mugs with coffee that looked to have been made first thing in the morning and added generous amounts of cream. He stirred two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the second cup.

  Rouleau was standing motionless in front of the window and it took him a while to notice Gundersund in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” Gundersund asked.

  Rouleau turned, and his eyes focused in on Gundersund. He nodded and walked toward his desk. “Sure. Anything come out of the interview?” He accepted the mug and sat down.

  Gundersund plunked himself into the visitor chair and stretched out his legs. He held the coffee cup in both hands and took a sip before lowering it to rest on his chest. “Not really. Charlie wasn’t saying anything before his mother and the lawyer showed up, and he said even less after.”

  “Woodhouse wants to arrest him and hold him overnight for obstruction. What do you think?”

  “To rattle him?”

  “And shake something out of him.”

  Gundersund smiled at the image of Woodhouse holding Charlie upside down trying to shake an answer out of his tightly clenched lips. “Your call,” he said.

  “I told Woodhouse no. We really haven’t a good reason to arrest him now. It’s his right not to talk and we’ve been treading on shaky ground even holding him here this long. Luckily, he didn’t think to ask for a lawyer until after round one this morning.”

  “Although nothing came of it. Stonechild and I both think he seems scared.”

  “No idea why?”

  “Not yet.”

  Rouleau drank from his cup and looked toward the outer office. “God, this coffee is awful. Where is Kala by the way?”

  “Doing some research on the case, but I’m about to check in with her.”

  “How is she?”

  “She seems to be coping. She met with Dawn and her child care worker a few days ago but won’t talk about it.”