Dark Water

by Laird, Chynna

  "There was nobody else there that night, Freesia," Cuaco interrupted. "The only people on that videotape that night were Len and Frank, who showed up twice. I told you that, remember?"

  Freesia shook her head, sitting a little taller. "No. Frank did go, but someone else came in after he left. It just looked like Frank because the second guy was wearing the same sweatshirt with the hood up. Look, if you just go back and read my mom's files, you'd figure out that Frank never came back in to see her. She recorded it all. She was totally anal about that part of her work."

  Cuaco tilted his head and squinted. "Wait. How do you know that?"

  Freesia reached into her pouch and pulled out the mini-recorder. "My mom did some dictation on here after she met with Len and Frank. Afterward, someone else came in."

  The color drained from the detective's face. "Where did you find that?"

  Freesia tipped her head down and looked from Cuaco to Gran. "From the metal file box."

  Gran covered her mouth, but didn't seem angry. Or shocked.

  The detective, on the other hand, looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. "You took that out of the file box and kept it? I'm assuming you read all the files and reports too. Freesia, that is not good. You could get into a lot of trouble."

  Freesia was losing her patience. "What's your problem? I don't understand. I might have proof that Frank is innocent and that the person you're looking for is still out there and you're giving me crap for looking at some stupid files?"

  Cuaco slammed his water bottle on the metal table, causing both women to jump. "Stupid files that have a privacy right attached to them. You shouldn't have read them."

  She leaned forward, unwavering. "Are you more ticked because I read them in general or because I know specifically what was written in them?"

  Gran put her hand on Freesia's chest, gently coaxing her back into her chair, and glancing over at the black mirror on the wall. The detective slumped back in his chair. "Freesia, I know you've gone through more than someone should for your age, but that was an offense to read those files."

  "Oh, come on," she said. "I worked for my mom and read all of her files at least once. I told you that. You knew that. I was her assistant, so there was no offense."

  She felt her blood racing through her veins. "Look. I realize I should have given the box to you sooner, but I had the right to know what was in those files. I had the right to the information, especially since you weren't giving it to me. You weren't exactly straight with me, either, were you? No one told me that she was treating all of you guys or that you all had PTSD or about that mission."

  Gran finally spoke. "I'll take blame for that one, love. I was going to tell you the whole story—the peace mission, your parents, the men involved—but I made the executive decision that you'd gone through enough. I was going to wait until after we found your mom. Or at least figured out what happened to her."

  Freesia didn't want to deal with that. It just didn't seem to matter. "Fine. Whatever. Look, it isn't just my mom on here. I recorded everything that happened at the cabin with Frank too."

  Cuaco's eyes widened. "What? You didn't tell me about that."

  "Yeah, well. I don't know how much I recorded because it was in my pocket the whole time and I fell on it at one point." She paused, putting her hand on her side from the memory. She continued. "I thought it would be important. I haven't checked on it since that day so I'm not even sure it worked. Here. I'll try now." She thumbed the device to rewind, but Detective Cuaco's meaty hands covered hers.

  "Here," he said, trying to tug the device out of her hands. "Why don't you give this to me and we'll take care of it?"

  "No. I'm not just going to hand this over to you too."

  My mom's voice is on it.

  Cuaco yanked back with such force he pulled Freesia out of the chair, causing her to sprawl out across the table on her stomach, her hands still clutching the recorder. She winced at the impact as her side and shoulder were still tender.

  "Let go, Freesia," Cuaco said. "I'm not fooling around here."

  "Obviously."

  Gran jumped up. "Barry! Let go! What's come over you? George, I think this has gone far enough."

  The color in Cuaco's face drained. He looked up at Gran like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes shifted back to Freesia and he scowled. He pulled back again, dragging Freesia across the table and down to the floor by his feet. The recorder knocked out of their hands and slid across the floor, coming to rest when it slammed into a coat stand by the door.

  The machine went on and Tamara's voice echoed around the interrogation room. At that moment, Granddad and Sage burst through the door, followed by three RCMP officers. Freesia must have rewound the tape to her mom's dictation because the angry man's yelling interrupted Tamara's voice. Suddenly, Sage's face went white, she squeezed her eyes shut and dropped to her knees. She covered her ears and screamed. "That's him! That's the bad man in the blue sweatshirt."

  Everyone gaped at Sage.

  She spoke.

  "Turn that Goddamn thing off!" Cuaco bellowed, rushing over to the recorder.

  Sage looked up, her lower lip quivering. She took her hands from her ears and pointed at Cuaco. "You? It's you! I remember. I saw your face a tiny bit under the hood when you turned your head."

  Gran ran over to Sage and Freesia, helping both girls up off the floor.

  "Freesia told us everything on the way up here today, Barry," Granddad said. "Had me wondering about a few things. Like why you've been dragging your feet on Tamara's investigation or why you were so interested in searching through all of Tamara's files or why you were particularly interested in that metal box. And all the strange questions about if we went through the boxes before giving them to you. Then the tape and how hard you've been on Frank. And how you knew certain things about this case."

  "Frank has already confessed, George," Cuaco said. "I think you're reaching here."

  "I went to chat with Frank a little while ago. Seems he's remembered exactly what happened and changed his initial statement. Frank didn't go back to see Tamara twice. Did he, Barry? You were the last person to see her. That was you in the audio at the end. And Sage's reaction to your voice just now tied some of those last few strings together for us." Granddad motioned the officers over to Cuaco.

  "There's no way Frank remembered anything." Cuaco glared at Granddad.

  "Everything," Granddad said. "He saw you toss his fishing hat and the shades by Tamara's car. He saw your sweatshirt in the truck while you made sure to wear his during your clean up. And he saw you walk back to the truck with Tamara and dump her body in the back. The biggest mistake you made was telling him the rest of your plan to weigh her body down and toss her into the middle of the lake. Gotta say. Thought it was genius to put your sweatshirt on Tamara before you let her go so they'd never find it."

  Gran hugged Freesia and Sage as they sobbed quietly.

  Cuaco's breath quickened. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that. There was no reason for her not to clear me for this job. I mean, she gave me the same evaluation she gave Frank and he's the one who was sick. She almost didn't clear me to go on the mission in the first place. She told me my anger issues concerned her. That doesn't even make any sense. Frank was crazy and she cleared him. Twice."

  "Frank isn't the reason you were all captured," Granddad said. "You were. If you hadn't tried to be a vigilante and jump those Taliban soldiers in the first place, none of that would have happened and Santiago would still be with us. This is all on your head, my friend. And your days of torturing those I love and respect are over. These boys know everything and are taking you down. Guess the effort you made to get this job was all for nothing."

  After the officers took Cuaco away, Granddad walked up to his girls and gave them a group hug. "There are a couple of final things I have to tell ya, Freesy. The first is about this." He pulled the ring box Freesia had found from his pocket.

  "This is something I had tota
lly forgotten about until I saw it. See, your mom and dad were having some struggles before he left on his final mission. I told you that. This was your dad's way of trying to make amends. Their anniversary was coming up shortly after he left. He asked me to pick it up for him and give it to her on the actual day so they could talk about it. Let's just say your mom was still feeling a bit bitter. She told me she went for a walk up to her favorite spot—where you two went last year—and tossed it into the brush."

  He shook his head, letting out a sad laugh. "That mom of yours had a heart of gold, but could be a real spitfire when she was mad. She regretted doing it later and actually went back to find it, but the brush had grown over too much. She never found it. I think she and your dad would have wanted you to have it. It represents what your mom meant to him."

  Freesia took the ring box, holding it to her chest.

  Granddad nodded. "Now, for the last bit of information." His eyes watered. "And this is a toughie. They found your mom's body down at the bottom of the lake. The forensic doctor determined the true cause of her death. Apparently her head injury wasn't what killed her. She drowned."

  Freesia put her hands over her mouth. That means she was still alive when he threw her in the lake. Oh God. She must have suffered terribly. And been so scared.

  She cried again, allowing Granddad to pull her into him. "You let it all out, dumplin'. We have her home now. And we're going to make sure that she has a proper burial."

  Yes. She deserves to finally rest in peace.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A month went by. Freesia and Sage started back to school. Sage began a new therapy plan and didn't need any of her communication tools anymore. She still needed her organization charts, but their grandparents happily gave the keyboard and picture cards back to her OT.

  Frank checked into the military hospital to receive the intense therapy he needed. Rick had completely healed and his mom found a new job. Deciding to give themselves a fresh start on life, they sold their house and found one on the same end of the city where the Freisens lived. Freesia was ecstatic that she'd be able to see Rick more often.

  Barry Cuaco was held without bail until his trial. He was under suicide watch and was going to be tested to determine his mental ability to stand trial.

  Most importantly, the family was given possession of the body so they could arrange a proper burial. Due to the extensive damage, cremation was a mutual decision. They wanted to bury her with the girls' father.

  Sage had another idea. "Mama loved the lake. I know how they found her and everything, but she loved it there. I think we should bury part of her with Daddy and part of her in the lake."

  "It's a nice idea," Freesia said. Though the thought of dividing up her mother's ashes grossed her out a bit.

  "Sagey, what a beautiful thought," Gran agreed. "Let's do that. We'll have the people at the morgue put some of her ashes in the stunning container you chose. We'll bury that beside your dad. We'll take the rest to the lake and sprinkle her ashes in the water. How does that sound?"

  Freesia and Sage looked at each other.

  "I think it's a pretty cool idea," Freesia said.

  Sage beamed. "Me too. I think Mom would like it."

  The public service they had was bittersweet. It was done up military style, since Tamara was married to a soldier. Freesia thought it was nice, but not as personal as she thought it should have been. Both grandparents were in tears. Because her mom was cremated, there was nowhere to drape the Canadian flag, so a soldier simply handed a folded flag to Gran and saluted.

  Following the service, they loaded up the car and headed up to the cabin. They had to go anyway to lock it up for the winter. But they had a special task to do too. They finished the cleaning, put all the summer toys away and set the mousetraps.

  After loading the car back up with the supplies they needed to bring back to the city, Granddad said, "Okay. The canoe is in the channel and ready for take-off. Let's go."

  Gran sat in the front of the canoe, Granddad in the back and the girls sat beside each other in the middle. Her grandparents paddled out to the middle of their bay. No one said a word. The only sounds were the paddles plunging into the water with each stroke, the gentle ripples they made and the sound of loons calling each other in the distance.

  When they decided on their choice spot, Gran and Granddad pulled the paddles into the boat and let the boat drift until it stood still. Sage said that when that happened it would be the spot their mom wanted to be put to rest.

  Gran said a short prayer. They had a moment of silence and Freesia opened the plastic bag containing the rest of her mother's ashes. She and Sage both held the bag together and then slowly turned it over. The ashes floated on the surface for a few moments and then seemed to absorb right into the glassy, cool water, as if the lake were welcoming their mother home.

  After a few more minutes, Gran and Granddad picked their paddles back up and started rowing back to shore. As the boat moved away from where they'd set their mother free, Freesia felt her heart tugging. For the first time in over a year, she felt a sense of calm, of happiness, sweep over her body.

  She still wished they would have found her mother alive, but at least they were able to give her the respect she deserved so she could spend eternity in peace. And she'd have the perfect view to watch her family grow and change over time.

  Freesia fingered the ring hanging on the chain around her neck. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

  I love you, Mom. Goodbye.

  Granddad stopped at the store for snacks before heading out on the highway. Everyone chose their favorite bag of chips and choice of drink. Sage picked Salt and Vinegar with a root beer, Freesia chose corn chips and a cola, Gran grabbed her Hickory Sticks and a bottle of lemonade, and Granddad chose Doritos and water. Freesia hated Doritos. They made the car smell like feet.

  As they pulled out onto the highway, Gran said, "Oh, I almost forgot. While we were cleaning up the shed, I came across an old scrapbook of your mom's. I have no idea how I missed it since I go in there so much, but I thought you'd like to take a look."

  She passed it to Freesia, who wiped corn-chip grease from her fingertips onto her jeans and grabbed the book. Rudy, who was sleeping on Sage's side of the car for that trip, lifted her head to give it a sniff.

  "I think you'll enjoy it, girls," Gran said, popping a few Hickory Sticks in her mouth. "There are pictures of her from the summer she was your age, Freesy."

  The book seemed to record everything her mom did that summer. There was a page entitled, "Twenty Facts I Want People to Know About Me." Their mom had included her favorite color, the boy she liked, her favorite food and what she wanted to do when she grew up.

  What caught Freesia's full attention was what she'd have wanted her name to be if she could change it.

  Her mom wrote, "I'd want to be called 'Mizu.' It's Japanese for water. My mother didn't give me a very cool name. Tamara is so plain. No one would ever forget my name if it was 'Mizu.'"

  Freesia's heart rate sped up. She flipped ahead a few pages to find a picture of her mom from that summer.

  She gasped, choking on a chip. Oh my—

  "Everything okay, Freesia?" Gran called out. "Do you need some water or something?"

  Freesia's hands shook as she stared at the photo.

  Her mother stood with her best friend at the time, Susan. They had their arms around each other. Her mom had long black hair, Cleopatra-style eye makeup and ruby-red lipstick.

  Mizu.

  Freesia's eyes filled with tears. "Everything's fine, Gran." She hugged the book to her chest and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Everything is just fine."

  Epilogue

  The Watcher sits cross-legged above his hidden shelter. A light breeze, cooler now that summer has slipped into fall, tosses his long black hair peppered with gray over his shoulders.

  The regular cabin dwellers are shutting their cabins down for the winter, leaving their summer havens behind for th
e city. Those few with cabins prepared for year-round living are taking down their summer gear, packing up their boats and cleaning up their yards for the threat of snow that is not too far away.

  As he sits high up on the rocky shoreline, he sings an ancient First Nations water-healing song. The main purpose is to cleanse the lake of the energy that has been dumped into it during the summer when people use it for play, unknowingly leaving their negative energy behind as the lake cleanses them. As he sings, he can hear if there are souls in need calling to him from the depths of the lake. That is how he found Tamara.

  The lake was not ready to receive her when she was given to it, as it had been with him many years earlier. It caused a disturbance, an imbalance, and she had to be given the chance to resolve that in her spirit before she would be welcomed into the lake's breast. Thus, Mizu was born.

  He watched as her family brought her back to her home here with him. He was pleased to see that although they may not have understood or known about the legend of the Watcher of the Lake, they somehow knew the significance and importance of her connection to the lake's spirit. She is now one with the lifeblood of Mother Earth.

  She understood that in order to connect with the water spirit, she must not only be true to others, but also to herself. And she understood that from his teachings, as he has helped many others before her. But she was very special to his heart.

  Despite the errors of her ways, she knew that her heart was still pure. She knew that to heal herself, she needed to connect with and honour her own spirit in order to help heal and connect others. Most importantly, she wholeheartedly knew that this connection would be made through the deep, cool, crystal-clear waters of the lake. Her children reminded her how the water holds and reflects memory, thought, intention and emotion.