My Sister's Keeper

by Brenda Chapman

  “I’m going to start at your office. I want to read those emails.”

  Cheri stood up. “Then I’m coming with you.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cahill Law Office was located on the tenth floor of a downtown high rise. Jada Price, a former classmate of mine at the police academy, was the security person seated behind the desk at the front door. She took one look at me and said, “Well I’ll be. It’s Anna Sweet in the flesh. You look good, girl.”

  “And so do you,” I said.

  Jada had let her hair grow into an Afro and she looked fierce—liquid black eyes and a short, muscular build. Jada once told me that her great-grandparents were slaves in the Southern States and she’d inherited their physical strength. She’d even trained as an Olympic hurdler. But she missed out on the games because of an injury.

  Jada’s eyes darted between me and Cheri. She knew our history. “How you doing, Cheri?” she asked. She didn’t give Cheri a chance to respond. “Up to any police work, Anna?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’ve been working in bars across the U.S. I plan on hitting Asia next.”

  Jada shook her head. “Such a waste of your talents.” She looked around the lobby. “And mine.”

  “I thought you got a job with the Ottawa force,” I said.

  “I got sick of being the token black girl handing out parking tickets. I quit two years ago. I’ve only worked security the last year, while getting some things in order.”

  Cheri had drifted over to the elevators. “Well, good seeing you, Jada,” I said. I signed the visitors’ book and followed Cheri.

  “Jada didn’t make any friends while she worked for the police,” said Cheri as the elevator door closed. “Jimmy told me that she spoke her mind too much. She even accused one of the officers of sexual harassment. They were happy when she quit.”

  “Which officer did she accuse?”

  “Jimmy never said.”

  I took out my notepad. “Looks like we just found another name for your list.”

  *********

  The office manager, Betty Zimmer, was a tiny woman about sixty-five years old. She greeted Cheri warmly and said she was relieved to see Cheri back at work. “Would you like some tea?” she asked. “My, that’s some lump on your forehead, Cheri dear.”

  Betty didn’t seem to realize that we were sisters. Most people didn’t know we were related when they first met us. I was five foot nine with a mess of dark hair and dark brown eyes. Cheri was petite, curvy, and blonde with china blues. Betty must have assumed I was her client.

  Cheri kept walking with her chin up in the air. “No tea, Betty.” She ignored the comment about her injury.

  We passed by an office and two surprised faces turned toward us. I correctly guessed they were Hannah Jones and Roger Little—the two other lawyers on staff. Both were dressed in expensive navy suits and stylish glasses. Hannah stood first and came to give Cheri a hug.

  “So good to see you back,” Hannah said. “Are you recovered from the accident?”

  Roger gave Cheri a quick hug. “We’ve been very worried about you.” He was tall and lean with a shaved head. I pictured him on a bike pedalling for a finish line after a six-hour triathlon.

  Hannah and Roger stood looking at me through their designer glasses. Roger’s eyes were intense, like those of someone who had a religion they wanted you to join. I held out my hand.

  “I’m Anna Sweet,” I said. “Just visiting Cheri.” I shot Cheri a look to keep her mouth shut about us being sisters. Luckily, she had taken Jimmy Wilson’s last name when they married, so my last name was different from hers.

  Cheri played along. She pointed toward her office. “We came by to pick up a folder but I’ll be off the rest of the week. I plan to be back in the office soon, though.”

  “Why, that’s wonderful,” Hannah said. “We’ve missed you around here.” Hannah wore her red hair in a tight bun and appeared to be an expert with the makeup brush. Her eyelids were dusted in blue shadow and her lips were glossy pink. She was attractive if you liked that straight-laced, librarian-in-a-tight-skirt look.

  “I hope you haven’t had to take on too many of my cases,” Cheri said. “I felt bad leaving you both with extra work.”

  “We enjoyed the challenge,” Roger said. “I went to court the last few weeks and got two of your clients off fraud charges. Both of them were probably guilty. But it was fun convincing the judge they weren’t.”

  “You should have seen Roger in action,” Hannah laughed. “He danced circles around the prosecution.”

  “It was great fun,” said Roger. “So you’re really feeling better, then, Cheri? We’d heard that you were having a rough go.” He rubbed his hand back and forth across his bald head while he spoke. His eyes stared at the lump on Cheri’s forehead.

  “I’m much better now, thanks,” Cheri said. “Is Bob in?”

  “He’s having a meeting with Janet,” said Hannah. “They’re working on the office move.”

  Bob Cahill, boss, and Janet Chan, legal assistant—I remembered their names from the list. They must have heard our voices because they both suddenly appeared from his office. They took turns hugging Cheri. Cheri introduced me as her visiting friend.

  Bob was another tall man, but older than Roger and with a full head of white hair. “So when will you be back?” he asked Cheri after shaking my hand.

  “I’m hoping by the start of next week,” she said. She was putting on an Oscar-winning performance. Nobody would believe this was the same pale, frantic woman I’d sat with a few hours earlier.

  A look passed between Bob and Janet. The look was personal: the kind shared by two people who are jumping each other’s bones. I would bet money that they were more than just boss and legal assistant. She was short with black hair to her waist. Attractive if you like that temptress-in-a-low-cut-top look.

  Bob cleared his throat. “We are looking forward to your return, Cheri. I’ve put a few new cases on hold for your review.”

  “I can’t wait to come back,” Cheri said, smiling. “I’ll be rested and raring to go.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cheri collapsed against her seat and closed her eyes. She looked drained of energy. I reached over and patted her knee.

  “Well played, sister,” I said. “Dad would be proud.”

  She turned her head to face me and grinned. “Never show your underbelly. If you’re hurting, suck it up. Act like a champion and you’ll be one.”

  I started the truck. “If we had a dollar for every time he drilled that into us.”

  “We could retire in style,” said Cheri. “Where to next?”

  “Your place. I need some sleep and so do you. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I’m going to track down the other people on your list.”

  “I could come with you,” Cheri offered. She shivered.

  “I thought you could stay with Dad for the day. I’ll move around better alone. You’ll be safe with him.”

  “Won’t that be fun.” Cheri sounded like she’d just been told to eat her broccoli, but there was relief too.

  I looked at her and grinned as I backed out of the parking spot. “Won’t it, just?”

  I drove slowly, checking in the rear-view mirror to see if anyone was following us. At one point a white van was keeping two car lengths behind our truck. I started to get worried but it made a right turn at the next set of lights. I sped up the last stretch of highway into Manotick. Cheri’s house was at the other end of town near the river. Homes there were expensive and far apart, with large lawns and lots of trees and shrubs—older homes that took more than a week to put up.

  We were pulling into Cheri’s driveway when she said, “I miss Evan but if I try to get him away from Jimmy, I don’t know what Jimmy will do. At least his energy is focused on hurting me and not Evan. He’s always been a good dad.”

  “It might not be Jimmy trying to hurt you.”

  “I know you hope so. I really want you to find that some
one else is behind this. But in my heart, I believe it’s Jimmy. He has lots of reasons to want me gone from his life for good.”

  “Now why would you say that?” Cheri had faults, but Jimmy had known about them before he married her.

  “We were fighting . . . a lot. He was tired of me working all the time. I can’t tell you how many times he said I was neglecting Evan. We fought over money, too. He said I was putting us into debt, as if my jewellery and clothes were the problem.”

  Cheri never had been good at finding fault with herself. I could understand Jimmy’s frustration. Yet, he had married her, warts and all.

  “You said that you thought he was fooling around on you. Who do you think he’s been seeing?”

  “Somebody at work, but I don’t know who. It took me a long time to believe he would do such a thing.”

  Did you forget that he was engaged to me when he had a go at you? I managed to keep the thought from leaving my mouth.

  “If Jimmy is behind all of this, I’m going to find out and make him pay. You can count on it,” I promised. “Can you open the garage door? I want to hide Dad’s truck so Jimmy doesn’t find out I’m here yet.”

  *********

  Cheri and I ate a cheese and mushroom pizza that she had in her freezer. Then we got ready for bed. I decided to sleep on the couch in the living room. I wanted to be able to move around during the night to keep watch. The couch was angled, so I could see the front door and the hallway leading to Cheri’s bedroom. She was still in the guest bedroom. She’d sleep there until she got a new mattress for the master bedroom. The raccoon’s blood had permanently stained the old one.

  I waited until Cheri was safely in bed with the light off before I pulled out the folder of emails from her office. The first was a warning. It was dated June 10, two months ago.

  If you say anything to anybody, Evan will disappear.

  The emails got more and more disturbing. The last two must have destroyed Cheri.

  Have you thought about killing yourself?

  Maybe you should.

  Evan will be better off when you are gone.

  I counted a total of sixteen emails over eight weeks—sixteen nasty pieces of mail to make my sister go crazy. Combined with the late-night phone calls, they’d been a powerful weapon. When the first email arrived, Jimmy had already moved out and Cheri was depressed and hurting. Soon after the emails and phone calls started, she couldn’t even cope with looking after Evan. That’s when she took her stress leave from work.

  The person behind this harassment was a sadist in my books. They were also a coward. Jimmy had been a lot of things when I knew him. He was never cruel or a coward. Could somebody really change that much in five years? Had the mean streak always been part of him?

  I reached over to turn out the table lamp and snuggled under the blanket. I could never remember being this tired before. My mind had been working overtime since I got Dad’s phone call. I’d been running on adrenaline.

  I started to drift off. Right about now, the bar band would be starting up in the Dude Bar. The night’s action would be just getting under way. I wondered if my bar regulars missed me in Kermit, Texas. I sure didn’t miss them.

  I listened for unusual noises outside the house. All was quiet except the wind rattling the windows. I let myself relax. I’d get a good night’s sleep and recharge. I was going to need my body firing on all its engines if I was going to have a chance of unmasking the real Jimmy Wilson.

  The retired cop in me was looking forward to the challenge.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Saturday morning started off warm and sunny. Clouds and rain would be rolling in late afternoon, according to the weather channel. I drove Cheri to Dad’s around ten.

  “I phoned Dad before we left the house. He’s invited us for supper,” Cheri said as she opened the car door. “He plans to make ribs with his special sauce.”

  “I’ll try to make it,” I said. “If I don’t, save me some.”

  Cheri stepped out and leaned into the car. Her hands rested on the roof and door. She was wearing a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and a baseball cap. With her hair tied back in a ponytail, she looked way younger than thirty.

  “It feels good to have someone believe me. You have no idea.”

  “I think I do.”

  “Be careful, Annie.”

  “You too.”

  I’d planned to follow Jimmy to work when I woke up. Then I remembered that he worked different shifts. Cheri had phoned the station to find out his schedule for me. Sure enough, he was on night shift and would be sleeping now. His mother Bonnie took care of Evan when Cheri and Jimmy both worked. Cheri said that it was easy for Jimmy now since they’d moved into Bonnie’s house. I’d swing by later in the afternoon.

  Gavin Long was first up on my list this morning: former biker gang member and father of drug-dealing son Joey, now doing serious time. I’d looked Gavin’s address up on the internet before leaving Cheri’s. I’d also found news articles from the trial. It would be about a half-hour drive to the east end of the city. What better way to start the day than by spending time with this fine, upstanding citizen who’d threatened revenge on my sister?

  *********

  The man who opened the door to the two-storey Cape Cod home was not what I expected. For starters, the tattoos, chains, and leather that gang members favoured were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was wearing a white cotton shirt and khaki pants, and his grey hair was cut short. He was also leaning on crutches, his foot in a cast. He looked me up and down with calculating black eyes.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, smiling. “I’m writing an article about parents who have kids in jail, possibly for crimes they did not commit. Your son’s name came up in my search.”

  “How did you find my address?”

  “Canada 411.”

  He stared at me, weighing my words to sniff out if I was lying. Finally, he laughed and opened the door wider. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, sweetheart? I’m having a hard time standing since I broke my foot two weeks ago.”

  He led me into a back sun room and we each sat down in a rattan chair. The room was hot, a ceiling fan bringing little relief. He moved his left knee so that it was almost touching mine.

  “How did you hurt your foot?” I asked.

  “Running from a pretty woman. I wouldn’t run from you though,” he said.

  “That’s because your foot’s in a cast.” I took out a notebook and pen.

  He laughed. “You’re one tall, cool drink of water. What is it you want to know for your article?”

  “How did you feel when your son Joey was found guilty of drug trafficking?”

  He scowled and I saw the thug lurking below the surface. “How do you think I felt? I was angry. The lawyer should have gotten him off, because my boy was innocent. Make sure you print that.”

  I wrote his statement down and nodded as if he’d said something important. “Who was the lawyer defending him?”

  “Some dumb blonde. I forget her name now. It was some kind of bimbo name.”

  Cheri, maybe? “Wow, she sounds bad. What’s happened to her career since?”

  Gavin’s hand landed on my knee. “Why do you even care about her? The real story is that my son is doing time and he’s innocent. Justice was not done.”

  It wasn’t wise to keep pushing, but I made one last attempt. “I just think I could make her pay for doing such a bad job defending your son.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty head. She’s already dead to me. I’ve hired a new lawyer to get my son out on appeal.”

  Dead to you? What did that mean? I didn’t dare ask anything more about Cheri. He’d get suspicious, and I’d be watching my back for the rest of my life.

  “Did you want to say anything else about the trial or the legal system?”

  He showed me his teeth in what passed for a smile. “Nothing you could print.”

  “Well, thank you so much for your comments. I’
ll be sure to send a copy of my article to you if they print it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s the name of the paper? You never said.”

  “I freelance. I write articles and submit them to every paper going. One of them usually takes it, but not always.”

  I watched his hand start moving up my leg toward my thigh. I resisted the urge to kick him. Instead, I stood in one quick motion and smoothed down my shirt.

  “I’m sorry to take up so much of your time,” I said. “I have someone waiting for me in my car. They’re probably baking in the heat by now. Thank you again. I’ll see myself out.”

  “You know where I live,” he called as I hurried for the door. “Come see me anytime you’re out this way. We could do some partying.”

  “Sounds good,” I yelled back to him. “Thanks again.”

  I walked as fast as I could to the truck, which I’d parked out of sight around the corner. Gavin Long might be harassing Cheri, but he honestly seemed to have forgotten her name. Even though I couldn’t cross him off the list of suspects, he wasn’t as high up as he had been. However, if being a creep got you arrested, he’d be sitting in a cell doing life with no chance of parole.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I stopped off at Whispers Pub in Westboro, in Ottawa’s trendy west end. I found an empty table on the patio in the shade of an umbrella. The lunch hour was over and people at a few tables were paying their bills. The waitress came over after they left. I ordered tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich and a beer. Then I sat back and people-watched.

  I could hardly believe my eyes when ten minutes later I looked over and saw Ryan Hunter standing at the entrance to the patio. I knew he lived up the street but never thought I would run into him. The last time I’d seen Ryan, he was lying in a hospital bed with a bullet in his leg and another in his chest. He walked with a cane now. It had been five years since we’d been partners. He’d aged a lifetime since then. It made me want to punch something. Fear of facing him kept me in my seat with my head down.