“What kind of shape is the place in?”
“Inspection isn’t due until March, so Kurtz is offering us only the buildings she is sure would pass today. The others are off limits.”
“And what’s she going to charge us?” Lincoln flipped to the last page of Andy’s report where she’d summarized an approximate cost associated with this venture.
“Nothing.” She finished off the last of her soup, put the spoon carefully in the bowl, and pushed it to the side of the table. “Though Kurtz has a long list of repairs, she would be happy to give it to Troop 18 in exchange for use of the property. She thought it would be team building.”
“That’s not exactly what Troop 18 needs,” Lincoln said, putting down the report for the second time. Andy knew she hadn’t convinced him yet. Lincoln tapped the report with his finger. “Your plan is missing something. When and how do you address the issues with the troop? How do you intend to get to the bottom of this thing?”
“I don’t.” Andy spread her hands flat on the table.
“Explain.”
Andy didn’t shift in her seat or lean forward to add weight to her words. Either he would accept what she had to say next or not.
“You said it yourself. This troop is like nothing Depot has ever seen before, and none of the usual tactics are working. So let me build them up, not break them down. Get them out of the environment that they’ve figured out. Let’s see them regroup and rebuild. I want to see the leaders of this troop come to the forefront while keeping an eye on the followers. My guess is this troop is spending all their time and energy on covering up. Let’s give them some room and see what happens.”
A long, hard look from Lincoln. She’d presented him with a risk, something he wasn’t prepared for. But she’d also presented him with a viable alternative, and he’d already admitted what they were doing right now was not effective.
“Are you giving them enough rope to hang themselves?”
“No, that’s not my intention. If this group is as tight as you say they are, I don’t think that should be punished out of them. It should be encouraged and moulded, but not punished.” Now Andy did lean forward, wanting only Lincoln to hear her next words. “If they do hang themselves, it’s because they chose their secret and each other over the RCMP. Which means they were never going to make it, anyway.”
Lincoln ran his hand along his jaw. He picked up the file and flipped some pages.
“Tell me about the obstacles,” he said, and Andy knew she had him convinced. She couldn’t help grinning at him before launching into her summary.
“Location obstacles include no cell phone reception at camp, and if we get unseasonable amounts of rain there could be a road wash-out. As it stands, it’s a twenty-minute hike from Kurtz’s place up to the camp. Which brings us to my biggest concern, which is staffing. I think four staff on-site should be sufficient, though I’m not sure how many volunteers you’re going to find.”
Lincoln waved this concern aside. “I’ve got three instructors who would jump at the chance, and I believe Sergeant Trokof would add a measure of decorum and structure to this adventure.”
Andy attempted to keep the disbelief off her face. It clearly didn’t work as Lincoln leaned back and laughed. Sergeant Albert Trokof, who inevitably had become Sergeant Jerk-off in the few moments of private conversations between cadets, had been old when Andy was in Depot eleven years ago. Everyone at Depot had exacting, high standards, but Sergeant Trokof was brutal.
“I didn’t think that man ever left Depot, let alone Regina,” Andy said to Lincoln, who grinned.
“I think he’s up for the challenge, and I think the troop needs the same predictability of routines. Besides, he’s got a soft spot for this troop.”
“And I didn’t think that man had a soft spot.”
“Just you wait until you meet this crew. There’s something very compelling about watching them together.”
“Either way, I’ll leave staffing up to you as well as the schedule. Sgt. Trokof or one of the other instructors can take the lead, as long as it’s not me. I’ll take them through their morning run, I’ll lead them in training exercises, I’ll even help them cook. They’ll follow me because I’m a senior officer, not because I’m evaluating them.”
Lincoln flipped back and forth through the pages of the report. Andy stopped herself from fidgeting, sensing how close she was. She wanted this badly. While she waited for Lincoln to speak, she evaluated her motives. She wanted to take on this challenge, and she had to admit that getting away from her recently pathetic routines was part of wanting to go. But she wasn’t running away. Andy tested the thought and found it acceptable.
“Okay,” Lincoln said finally, slapping the report back down on the table. “Okay, I’ll give you Troop 18 for three weeks. They need to be back at Depot on Christmas Eve. We’re either at the bottom of this thing by then or we’re retracting their contracts for Christmas. No pressure.”
Andy didn’t smile. There was pressure, a lot of it. But suddenly she wanted to twist with excitement, she wanted to be moving, putting this thing into action.
“When do you want them?”
“Two days,” Andy said promptly, obviously surprising Lincoln. “Put them on the bus on Wednesday, overnight this side of Edmonton, have them to me by noon on Thursday.”
“You can be ready in two days?”
“If I start today.” Andy checked her watch. “Right now.”
Lincoln gave her a smile Andy recognized, a mixture of confidence and pride. “See, my instincts don’t steer me wrong,” he said.
Andy raised her eyebrows. “Except the time you ordered clam chowder from that dive in the east end.”
Lincoln groaned at the memory and held his stomach. “You had to remind me, didn’t you?”
Andy grinned and finally shifted in her seat. She really did want to get going.
“All right, Sgt. Wyles. I’m entrusting Troop 18 to you starting on Thursday at noon. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into here?”
“Not at all, sir.”
“Well then, I think that’s an excellent start.”
Chapter Three
Andy pulled her foot off the accelerator, the Yukon easing into a lower gear, its engine quieting to a dull roar. The town of Clearwater B.C. came into view, small and dismal on this wet, grey day. Gas station signs and overhead wires dominated what could have been a beautiful view of the mountains and the surrounding trees, but Andy barely noticed the scenery as she pulled into town and came to a complete stop at the red light. The gear packed into the back of the Yukon shifted only slightly as she pulled on to the next leg of the highway, less than twenty minutes from her destination.
It was just before noon on Tuesday. Andy had spent the day before ploughing through the intimidatingly long list of supplies they were going to need to feed and shelter twenty-one people for three weeks. Twenty-two, Andy corrected herself. Sixteen cadets, four instructors, Andy, and a Depot medic. The medic was one of the three additions the COs had made to her plan since getting it approved by Lincoln: an on-site medic, a weekly face to face check-in with a senior officer, and weekly drug tests of the cadets, the first one within twenty-four hours of arrival. Andy was still trying to figure out how to get sixteen urine samples from a remote location to a lab.
Andy checked the directions on the print-out Jack had given her, though she was beginning to recognize the area. She’d been here twice before: once a few years ago in the fall to help Kurtz and Tara move in, and then again the summer after to help demo one of the outbuildings. That had been a fun weekend. Eight dykes with hammers and crowbars and four boxes of beer resulted in a huge pile of rotting wood, fungus-covered shingles, and dirty squares of linoleum. Andy was one of the few who had stayed through the hangover the next morning to help haul it all away. She stayed partly because she owed Kurtz and partly because she enjoyed spending time with Kurtz and Tara, though they were both close to twenty years older than And
y.
A green and white sign at the edge of the road announced the turn-off to Clearwater B & B, welcoming travellers, vacationers, and adventurers to a small piece of heaven. Andy turned the Yukon into the drive, gunned the engine up and over the crest of a hill, the grounds of the B & B coming into view. She’d heard Kurtz describe first seeing this piece of land five years ago, how she had instantly fallen in love with it. Even on this grey day, the distant view obscured by drizzled fog, it was incredible.
Low meadows were edged with tall evergreens that became denser and wilder the more you looked. The house itself looked like part of the foggy scenery, with its light grey siding, dark grey roof, and large windows on all sides reflecting back the expanse of grey sky. Andy followed the gravel driveway up to the house, an old Lab coming around the side of the garage, barking dutifully, wagging its tail in slow, excited circles. Andy climbed out of the car and stretched her spine, feeling the tightness in the back of her legs from sitting for so long.
“Andy Wyles, how the hell are you?”
Kurtz walked out on the veranda that wrapped the front of the house, leaning over the rail and looking down at Andy. She was always shorter than Andy thought, somewhere around five-six, though in Andy’s memory they were closer to the same height. She had short, steel grey hair, cut neatly around her ears, the curls on top not moving an inch in the slight wind. Her blue eyes were set into an unassuming, lined face that could easily be overlooked. Kurtz usually corrected that as soon as she opened her mouth.
Andy took the steps two at a time, Kurtz giving her a crushing, bruising hug. Andy wasn’t sure how she did it, but Kurtz was almost fifty-five and could still probably out muscle half of Troop 18.
“Good to see you, kid,” Kurtz said, pounding Andy on the shoulder.
“You too, Kurtz. Thanks again for doing this. It’s a huge favour.”
Kurtz shrugged. “Hey, I’d rather test out the camp on a bunch of pansy cadets than paying corporates from Calgary. You guys can help me work out the kinks and put in a few days of hard work. We’ll call it even.”
Andy smiled at the retired officer. Maybe she was actually going to pull this off. She looked down at the Yukon, stuffed with supplies. She still had a lot of work to do in the next forty-eight hours.
“Don’t even think about it,” Kurtz said, following Andy’s gaze. “Tara’s got soup and sandwiches waiting inside, so come on in.”
Andy pushed off the railing and followed her inside.
Greys, blues, and green dominated the inside of the huge house. Soft and muted, the colours blended together in a comforting, calming palette. Andy smelled chicken soup, and her empty stomach instantly gave a growl of appreciation. She followed Kurtz back to the kitchen where Tara stood ladling soup into large, white bowls. Tara was short and round with a long braid down her back. As the two of them entered, Tara turned and gave Andy a warm smile.
“Hi Andy, grab a seat.”
The chicken soup and homemade bread were unbelievably good. Kurtz asked her a million questions about the troop, the history, and the cast of characters about to descend on her unfinished camp. Andy answered as best she could. She had the files on all sixteen cadets but hadn’t done much more than scan them. She was hoping to have time to read them tonight.
“And how about your love life?” Kurtz said. “Last I heard, you were madly in love with a redhead.”
Andy tried not to choke on her bread, her mouth instantly going dry. She swallowed, fighting successfully for calm. “Still am. But Kate’s taking some time.” She hoped it was vague enough not to prompt more questions and still clear enough that she didn’t want to talk about it.
The silence was uncomfortable. Andy stared at the raised pattern on the tablecloth. She shouldn’t have been surprised when Kurtz filled the silence with a question.
“You her first?”
Andy had the sudden desire to lash out, her anger, her defenses rising quickly. But at the very least, Andy had control. “Yes.”
“Well, we know damn well not everyone handles it easily.”
The anger and self-recrimination hit Andy so hard in the belly that she stood abruptly, making a mockery out of her illusion of control.
“I should get going,” Andy said, her voice a monotone. “Thanks for lunch, Tara.” Andy left the table, knowing she was being rude. She owed her friends better than this. She was out of the house, down the stairs and almost to the car when Kurtz caught up to her.
“Andy, hang on,” Kurtz called and Andy stopped, one hand on the door of the Yukon. She met Kurtz’s look with guarded eyes. “Tara wants to know if you’re staying here tonight. We’ve got a group coming in sometime in the next few hours, but there’s a room for you.”
“I’m not particularly good company, Kurtz,” Andy said, the closest she could come to an explanation or an apology for her behaviour.
“You don’t need to be. But if you’d rather be on your own, there’s the honeymoon cabin, just outside the back meadow. You’ve only seen it in pictures, I think…”
Kurtz trailed off, and Andy had to guess it was the expression on her face that did it. Kurtz had sent pictures of the cabin they’d built over the demolished building site. It was small, sweet, private, and built entirely of renewable resources and powered with solar energy. It had reminded Andy of their small cabin in the Montana mountains where Andy had truly and completely fallen for Kate. After seeing the pictures, Andy had thought about bringing Kate here, even just for a weekend, dreamed about spending days together in bed. But the thought was too hard, and Andy let the sadness tug at her as she clenched the door of the Yukon, her knuckles going white with strain.
“I should head up to camp, get things set up. I’ll need to put in a lot of work before the troop gets here Thursday.”
Kurtz held Andy’s eyes for a long time before she spoke. “Did you know I couldn’t stand you when you first started at E-division?”
Andy looked at her, startled. “No.”
“I thought you were such a cocky little shit, giving people the evil eye when they said something you didn’t like, not in the least bit afraid to be out of the closet. I heard reports that you even threatened that asshole, Brown, when he wouldn’t stop referring to people as faggots.”
Andy remembered Brown, a constable two levels above her. He was the worst kind of cop: testosterone-fuelled, inflated ego, stupid. She’d asked him flat out not to use that word again. He’d laughed at her, not only was she a rookie but also a woman. And gay. Too many strikes against her to pay the slightest bit of attention to her request. Andy had finally told him privately to either stop using the word or explain to his buddies how a gay rookie chick had given him a black eye.
“When you showed up,” Kurtz said, “I’d been on the force twenty years already, so tightly closeted I couldn’t even say the word ‘lesbian’ in my head when I was in uniform. And it was nothing to you—nothing at all. And that seriously pissed me off. It took me a long time to figure out that you weren’t cocky, just completely unapologetic. Barely making a dent in your twenties, new to the uniform, and you could give a flying fuck what people thought of how you lived your life.”
Andy considered Kurtz, reading her stern, lined face. “What are you getting at, Kurtz?”
“Maybe you should consider not everyone takes to this as easily as you did.”
“I know that,” Andy said, annoyed. But guilt also flashed through her, heavy and uncomfortable.
“Do you? Do you have any idea how high you set the bar? How impossible that might be to achieve?”
Andy said nothing, concentrating on unclenching her fingers from the door frame of the Yukon. She needed some time and some space to think through what Kurtz had just said and decide whether it was perspective or judgement. “I should get going,” she said finally, not sure what else to say.
“Anything you need, just let us know, okay?”
Andy could barely nod her head in appreciation before she pulled herself into t
he truck. She slammed the door, jammed the key in the ignition, and backed down the driveway.
*
By sundown, Andy was exhausted. She parked the Yukon at the end of a small, gravel road, the one Kurtz and Tara were fighting the municipality to be able to pave properly and extend right up to the camp. The walk from the truck to the camp was less than fifteen minutes, but it took her five hours and eight trips down the gravel path to unload all the gear. It was back breaking and mind numbing and Andy loved every second of it. The camp itself was set in a clearing between giant boulders of the Canadian Shield, surrounded by brush and trees. The cabins formed a rough semi-circle, a large rectangle of grass out back forming an old sports field and some cracked, old concrete holding up a rusty, listing basketball hoop. The siding on the cabins was dark-stained shingles, but the windows were bright and modern, and the solar panels on each roof even more so.
Andy stood under the one, humming hydro pole and surveyed her surroundings as darkness crept onto the grounds. If she had any more energy, either physical or mental, she would feel satisfied. This place was perfect: the privacy, the trails up into the mountains, the cabins. Even the kitchen cabin was bigger than Andy had first thought. They might even all be able to squeeze in for mealtimes. She walked there now, feeling cool air on the back of her sweaty neck, hands shoved into the front of her favourite sweatshirt.
Moving boxes around, Andy found a can of some kind of stew, a can opener, and a spoon. She didn’t bother lighting the camp stove, and she didn’t think about the incredible meal that Tara had likely provided for her guests tonight. Andy sat on the steps of the kitchen cabin and ate out of the can, watching the colour leach out of the surrounding landscape. By the time she had finished dinner and closed up the cabin against bears and racoons, it was dark. Andy walked the short distance to the cabin she’d randomly chosen for the night, her bag slung across a bed. She took an extra armful of wood on her way in, though the woodstove had already warmed the cabin.
Troop 18 Page 4
