Bad Medicine (Healing Spirits)

by Jude Pittman

  “High tea sounds wonderful.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “I’ll say good night then.” Martine patted Jesse arm, and before he could catch his wits and venture an alternate suggestion, she had crossed to the adjoining bedroom and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  After spending several minutes trying to think of an excuse for knocking on her door Jesse gave up and went to sleep. As usual, he slept like a dead man.

  Sometime during the night, he became aware of someone shaking him and calling his name. Waking and jumping to his feet, he head a gasp and realized the someone who’d been shaking him was Martine and he’d jumped out of bed stark naked.

  “Whoa. Hey, what’s going on?” He grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

  “I’m sorry,” the sparkle in her eyes belied her blush. “There’s an alarm going off,” she said. “I think there might be a fire in the building. Listen.”

  Jesse pulled his eyes away from the enticing silhouette of Martine dressed in a sheer silk robe and looked up at the sprinklers on the ceiling.

  “An alarm is being investigated. Please stand by.”

  Jesse turned to Martine and smiled. “Probably someone burned a pot in the kitchen. They haven’t told us to leave yet, so if you’re not scared, we’re better off waiting until they give us instructions.”

  Martine smiled. “I worked in a Toronto high rise for several years, it takes more than a single alarm to get me running down the stairs.”

  “Okay. Any suggestions on how we might pass the time?” The look on Jesse’s face left no doubt about the question in his mind.

  “Maybe.”

  Her response surprised him speechless.

  “She sat down beside him on the bed and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m not immune, you know, only cautious, and I have to admit I liked what I saw before you grabbed that blanket.”

  Jesse grinned and slid his arm around her waist.

  “The feeling is mutual, and you have to admit I’ve done a damn good job of keeping my hands to myself considering how little that sexy nightgown leaves to the imagination.”

  “Let’s say I set aside my self-imposed regulation regarding relationships with co‑workers and we pretend that just for tonight we’re strangers.”

  Jesse grinned. “Hello stranger lady. I’m happy to make your acquaintance, could I interest you in a glass of wine from this little cabinet they have over here?”

  “I’d love it. As long as you’re promising to keep your word. Tonight we’re strangers, but tomorrow we go back to being co-workers and we never mention tonight again.”

  “It’s a deal. If that’s the way you want things to be between us then you have my word that come tomorrow morning everything will be forgotten.”

  They were still sipping their wine when the speaker came back over the intercom system and announced that everyone could return to bed.

  “Sounds like just the invitation I’ve been waiting for.” Martine stood, discarded her robe and climbed into bed. Jesse dropped the blanket and slid in beside her.

  “If this is a dream please let me sleep forever.” Jesse wrapped his arms around Martine’s back and rolled her on top of him and they soared together in a dance that lifted them beyond the flesh until they collapsed together, replete in their lovemaking.

  Martine lay on her back. Her black hair fanned across the white pillowcase and her breasts heaved with every breath. Her thick black lashes covered her closed eyes and rested against the golden tint of her skin.

  Jesse watched her through partially closed eyes. He had no doubt she’d be gone by morning, but in a way he kind of liked things the way they were. A woman who didn’t expect, or even want promises was a rarity. Still, even the thought of never again experiencing what they’d just shared was something he didn’t want to think about. Closing his eyes, he too drifted off to sleep, and as anticipated, in the morning he awoke alone.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday morning Jesse climbed the steps of the two-bedroom ranch at 911 Lotus Street and knocked. Moments later, a mousy little woman with dishwater blond hair opened the door an inch and peered through the crack.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Mr. and Mrs. Ed Parker.” Jesse smiled to allay her unease. “It’s in regard to their foster children Shannon and Alex.”

  She opened the door and looked quizzically up at Jesse. “I’m Mrs. Parker. What about the children?”

  Jesse smiled again. Mention of the two young people had given curiosity the upper hand. Mrs. Parker still thought of them as children. Her motherly instincts overrode any fears she might have about talking to a stranger.

  “My name is Jesse Dancer. I’m assisting Alex with some inquiries regarding Shannon’s death. I know it must be hard for you to talk about the death of your foster daughter, but I’d appreciate any help you can give me.”

  “Please come inside.” She stepped back and allowed him to pass through the open doorway. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “That would be great.” Jesse followed her into a neat and tidy kitchen. She motioned him to a seat in one of the straight back chairs pulled up to a small table covered with a bright yellow cloth.

  “I’m afraid we haven’t heard from Shannon since she left here last year. Alex has probably told you that things were strained between us.” She set two cups on the table, picked up a pot from the stove and filled them both.

  “Alex suggested his foster dad might have visited Shannon on one of his trips to the mainland.”

  Mrs. Parker lifted her cup and drank. After a moment of silence, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Ed was very angry when Shannon left.”

  “So I understand. I was wondering though. Is it possible your husband decided to try reconciliation without telling anyone in case it didn’t come off?”

  She tilted her head and stared at a spot over Jesse’s shoulder. “It’s possible I suppose. Ed wouldn’t like being rebuffed. Even so, once he’s gotten down on someone, I’ve never known him to change his mind.”

  “Would it be possible for me to speak with Mr. Parker?”

  “He’s at a pool tournament today. He’ll be out until late.”

  “Maybe I could stop by the tournament?”

  The woman frowned and twisted the dishtowel in her hand. Her subservient relationship to her husband was evident in her demeanor.

  “Alex is devastated over Shannon’s death.” Jesse appealed to those motherly instincts again. “Perhaps Alex would know the spot where your husband is attending this tournament?”

  “Ed’s been going there for years.” The frown creasing her brow cleared and Jesse saw that she’d figured out his meaning.

  “Why don’t I just drop by there and wait for an opportunity to question your husband. I’ll make it a point to mention that Alex suggested I might find him there.”

  “He’ll be at Diego’s over on Douglas Street.” She had no hesitation about revealing Ed Parker’s whereabouts once she knew Jesse would name Alex as his source of information.

  “I’ll tell Alex how much you’ve helped.” Jesse smiled and pushed back his chair. “I doubt your husband will have any helpful information, but it’ll make Alex feel better to know I’ve checked with everyone who might know something.”

  Located next door to the Red Lion Inn, Diego’s had all the trappings of a popular sports bar with a number of strategically placed television sets and a large crowd clustered around three regulation pool tables.

  Jesse chose a spot at the bar that afforded a view of the pool tables. When a bartender finally strolled over Jesse ordered a beer.

  “Looks like you have a tournament going on,” Jesse said when the man returned with his beer.

  “Yep. Just a local affair, but we get a nice crowd.”

  “A friend asked me to look up his foster dad. He gave me a description, but I didn’t anticipate a crowd like this.”

>   “Anyone I might know?”

  “Fellow by the name of Ed Parker.”

  “Oh sure. Everyone knows Ed. He’s in the tournament. That’s him next to the shooter, wearing the Budweiser T-shirt. They’ll break in about half an hour. I can steer him your way if you like.”

  “That would be great. I’ll get a table and grab a sandwich while I’m waiting.”

  Fifteen minutes later, during which Jesse’ d had time to polish off a decent club sandwich, an average size balding guy with a bit of a potbelly, pulled out a chair and settled into the seat across the table. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

  “You must be Ed Parker,” Jesse stuck out his hand. “I’m Jesse Dancer. I got your name from Alex.”

  “So I hear.” Parker said, giving Jesse’s hand a brief shake. “Something I can do for you?”

  “It’s about Shannon.”

  “What about her? She ran away to the City. Got in over her head. Now she’s dead. End of story.” Parker scowled at a point over Jesse’s left shoulder.

  “Sounds like you still have some issues.”

  Parker’s face flushed. “What’s it to you?” He shoved his chair back and fixed Jesse with a belligerent glare.

  “Take it easy,” Jesse said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out the $500.00 check. “Alex asked me to go through Shannon’s belongings looking for clues to her killer. I found this check and we decided I should come talk to you before turning it over to the police.”

  “Since when do the cops care about me giving one of my kids money?”

  Jesse shifted in his chair, stretched his legs and took a drink from his beer. Then he set the mug down and glanced across at Parker. “It’s common knowledge that the two of you have been estranged for more than a year. I’d think that would call for some kind of explanation.”

  “Yeah. Well maybe I’m not as hard-hearted as some people would like to think. Shannon called a couple of weeks ago. Said she was having a hard time, so I sent her a check.” Parker stuck his chin in the air and scowled at Jesse.

  “Any idea why she never cashed it?”

  “No. I don’t know a damn thing more than what I’ve just told you.”

  “No need to get upset.” Jesse kept his voice low to soothe the agitated man. “Alex just wanted me to clear this up before I took the check to the cops. They’ll want to verify your story, of course. But the fact that Shannon called you and you mailed the check will make a difference.”

  “Why?” Parker snapped.

  “Because of the circumstances. If you’d been in Vancouver and had personal contact with Shannon they’d want to know the details. The fact that there’s been a lot of friction between you and Shannon and now she’s been murdered would raise some questions.”

  “I didn’t say I mailed the check,” Parker muttered.

  “So you did see Shannon in Vancouver.”

  “I didn’t say that either. But yeah. I saw her. So what?”

  “I guess that depends on when you saw her and under what circumstances. You didn’t, for instance, see her last Wednesday. That would be the day she disappeared?”

  “No I didn’t.” Parker scowled and fixed Jesse with a mean glare. I was there a couple weeks ago, and I haven’t been back.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened? I can’t promise anything, but if you’re telling the truth about not being in Vancouver when Shannon was murdered, and I can verify that to the cops they’ll likely be satisfied.”

  “You think?”

  “It’s possible. Now about your meeting with Shannon. How did that come about?”

  “Like I said, she called me and said she needed money.”

  “Was your wife aware of Shannon’s call?”

  “No. It’s complicated. Shannon wasn’t exactly the kind of girl my wife believed her to be.”

  “How’s that?”

  “To put it blunt, she was a hooker.”

  “And you gave her money professionally?”

  “What the fuck are you implying?” Parker’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red and he bunched his hands into fists.

  “Calm down.” Jesse spread his arms and shook his head. “I wasn’t implying anything. I was asking—same as the cops will when they hear your story. You claim Shannon sold sex as a profession. So logically I need to know, did you or did you not seek out her professional services?”

  “Sounds like shit when you say it that way,” Parker muttered. “Look. I admit the kid kind of got to me and I struggled with it a bit, but no, I did not see her in the course of her profession. Is that straight enough for you?”

  “Perfectly. And the money you gave her?”

  “She claimed she wanted to get out of the lifestyle. Said she’d gotten herself clean—she’d been smoking crack—the money was the first installment on tuition for hairdressing school. I told her if she enrolled and got herself a part time job, I’d give her the rest.”

  “Did you tell your wife about this arrangement?”

  “No I didn’t. I knew Shannon might be stringing me. So I figured I’d wait until she enrolled in the program and then if she played straight and got a job I’d tell my wife.”

  Parker leaned forward and cleared his throat. “My wife was pretty broken up when Shannon took off for the city. I didn’t want her to know what the girl had been up to in Vancouver. I figured if Shannon kept her word and started school then I’d surprise Val by taking her over there for a kind of reunion.”

  “Nice.”

  “You being sarcastic?”

  “No. I mean it. That was a nice thing to do. I’m sure it’ll mean a lot to Alex.”

  “Yeah. Well I’m not a hero, but I’m not a monster either. I didn’t want to see that kid throw herself away on the street. I got to get back to my game.”

  “Sure. Thanks for your help.” Jesse said, pushing back his chair and offering his hand. “I know Alex will appreciate your candor.”

  “You’re not going to tell him what Shannon was doing are you?”

  “Not if I don’t have to. I’ll simply tell him the check was a down payment on Shannon’s tuition to hairdressing school and leave it at that.”

  “I don’t know if it’s any help, but Shannon mentioned some weirdo she’d been seeing. She didn’t say who or where, but she did say he was starting to creep her out. I think he was one of the reasons she wanted to change her lifestyle.”

  “Did she give you any hints about how she knew this guy?”

  “Nope. But she said she had a friend who watched her back.”

  “Any idea who?”

  “Sorry. She didn’t say. Maybe someone from that place she was staying.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Have they arrested Lyle Miller?” Martine settled into a chair at Jesse’s kitchen table and accepted the cup of coffee he handed over.

  “No but they’re about to. Hanson called last night to tell me their seventy-two hours was up and they’ve decided to hold him as a material witness.”

  “Are you still convinced they’ve got the wrong man?”

  “I guess you never know about people,” Jesse dipped his head and the long black hair he normally kept tied in a leather thong flowed over his shoulder, “but it still doesn’t feel right.”

  “It makes me mad that Detective Hanson is so set on the killer being Native.”

  “I don’t think he has much choice. As I said earlier, there’s a lot of pressure for action on this case. Stanley Park is a major tourist attraction and we’re right in the middle of the season. The city fathers would very much like to write this off as ‘one Indian killing another’ and close the books.”

  “Hanson is not set on Miller, he’s just trying to get to the truth. Matter of fact, could tell when I talked to him earlier that he’s not sold on Miller he just doesn’t have anyone else.”

  “What reason would Lyle have to kill Shannon? Didn’t you say he believed she was nineteen and she went with him willingly?”

 
“Same old stuff. According to their theory, Miller had a fit of passion and Shannon changed her mind and turned him down. He lost control and killed her, then he staged that elaborate scene in the park to make it look like some kind of ritual killing.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense. From what you’ve found out so far it’s likely that Shannon was a prostitute, and if that’s the case, those girls don’t change their mind, they simply raise the price.”

  “You don’t have to convince me. Like I said, Mark doesn’t even believe his own theory. It’s just a matter of trying to get the city fathers off his back.”

  “Did you tell him what you found out from Shannon’s foster dad?”

  “Yes, and he asked me to keep digging. For now, they’re holding Lyle, but Hanson’s a long way from being sold on him as the killer. Besides I’ve been thinking over my conversation with Parker, and I have an idea.”

  Martine took a sip from her coffee and set the cup down on the table. “What?” She gave him one of those looks.

  “Remember Amy, over at Evergreen House?”

  “The one who told you about Shannon’s date with Lyle.”

  “That’s right. According to Ed Parker, Shannon was worried about someone.”

  Martine frowned. “Worried. How?”

  “She told Parker this guy she knew was starting to creep her out.”

  “Do you think it was her boyfriend? He’s a bit on the creepy side.”

  “Maybe. But nothing points that way.”

  “Maybe one of her John’s. If the prostitution story Parker told you is true.”

  “Could be, anyway, Parker said Shannon had someone watching her back in case anyone got weird.”

  “And you think Amy might be that someone.”

  Jesse shifted his long legs out from under the table. “Makes sense,” he said, getting to his feet and picking up his coffee cup. “I’ll just take the chill off this. Want more?”

  Martine held up her cup. “Half is good.”