“You tell me then, why do you think Shipman would take off? Best guess,” Andy said to the cadets trudging behind her, wondering how they would take this question. It could be seen as concern, or prying or an offer of betrayal.
No one spoke for a long time, the silence only broken as Awad called out Shipman’s name into the fog.
“Today could be rough,” Foster said in his low, clipped voice. Andy wondered if he ever spoke in full sentences or explained what he meant without having to be asked.
“Why?”
“JT’s birthday,” Foster said, his mouth set in a grim line, his body held rigidly still. He looked near Andy, but not at her.
Andy silently berated herself for missing this detail.
“He would have been twenty-five, is that right?” Andy said. Shandly nodded, the crease across her forehead telling Andy she was struggling not to cry. Worried as she was about the missing cadet, about the CO arriving at camp anytime, about what the hell this troop was hiding, Andy’s heart still went out to the sixteen surviving cadets of this fractured troop. She knew how death could shape you, how absence could be an all-consuming void. Sometimes the most significant shaping stemmed from how one chose to fill that void. Troop 18 had each other.
“I didn’t know Cadet Thibadeau, so I won’t tell you how to honour his memory,” Andy said to the miserable cadets in front of her. “But I’m going to guess that having all of Troop 18 together today would help whatever it is you’re going through.”
Shuffling of feet, boots against rock, shoulders shrugged against the damp wind off the mountain.
“Let’s keep looking, then. We’ll take the path up to the lookout then complete the circuit back down to camp.”
They continued their hike, Andy and Foster climbing up the wet wall of rock to check the look-out. No sign of Shipman up here, and fog blanketed the valley as far as they could see. As they made their way back down the circuit, Andy’s radio went off, and Sergeant Trokof asked for her to check in.
“Go ahead, Sergeant Trokof,” Andy said into the radio, walking back down the path toward camp. She hoped like hell he had something.
“Superintendent Heath has just arrived.”
Shit.
Andy thumbed the button on the radio. “He’s aware of the situation?”
“Yes, sergeant,” Trokof replied in a tone that let Andy know Heath could hear their two-way conversation loud and clear.
“If you could ask Kurtz to drive him up to camp, we’ll be back down within half an hour.”
“Copy that, sergeant,” Trokof said awkwardly, obviously not used to the tools of field work.
Heath was already in camp when Andy and her team descended through the back field. He was standing in the middle of the quad with Kate, Trokof, and Meyers, who had arrived back empty-handed with his own search team just a few minutes before. Andy dismissed her team, and told them to go get some breakfast. They’d likely be heading back out again if the fog lifted. She joined the roughly assembled group in the quad, attempting to read anything other than fury in the commanding officer’s lined face. That search came up empty, also.
“Superintendent Heath.” Andy acknowledged him respectfully, deciding if he wanted to open this thing up and cause a scene, they might as well get it over with now. The sooner the better, so they could get back to their search. Superintendent Heath was a tall man, the kind who was thin without ever really having been in shape. His eyes were grey and cold as he looked at Andy and attempted to keep the vaguely disgusted look off of his face. Didn’t matter, she’d seen it before. And the feeling was mutual, but the difference was Andy refused to let it show.
“Less than one week into this little Depot adventure, and you’ve already lost a cadet, Sgt. Wyles,” Heath said, his voice seething. This would come down on him, among others. And Superintendent Heath was a man who guarded his reputation closely.
“Cadet Greg Shipman failed to report at roll call approximately four hours ago, sir. Three search parties have spread out over the perimeter, and Constable Zeb, one of the Depot instructors, is covering all the roads into Kamloops. Shipman was last seen just after midnight by one of the cadets,” Andy said, thinking Heath probably loved having an excuse to dislike Andy again. Owing Andy for her part in saving his granddaughter’s life last fall had probably given him an ulcer.
“Sergeant Trokof here mentioned that you haven’t put a call into the local RCMP unit. May I ask why?” His voice was a condescending sneer, and Andy felt the muscles in her back tighten in annoyance. She could also see Kate shove her hands into her coat pockets as if she’d just repressed her own defiant response.
“Yes, sir. A missing person’s report wouldn’t yet be valid, and I couldn’t quite figure out how to word a person of interest report with the Kamloops detachment that left Depot free of any questions.” She paused, letting Heath weigh the words, seeing how they were balanced in his favour. “I intend to call them in if Cadet Shipman doesn’t appear in the next two hours,” she said after it was clear Heath wasn’t going to add anything. Andy needed Heath to know she wouldn’t put the cadet’s safety and well-being above a bad public image.
“Is there anything else I need to know about?” Heath’s eyes bored into Andy’s. She didn’t flinch, it made sense. Her boss’s boss was pissed. Shit rolled down hill.
“Yes, actually. A detail came to light just a few minutes ago.” She turned away from Heath to address the rest of group. She could read tension and defiance in Kate’s eyes, a diminished awkwardness in Trokof’s rigid stance, and a worried steadiness to Meyers. “Today would have been Justin Thibadeau’s twenty-fifth birthday. I don’t know if it’s connected or not, but it could explain Shipman’s mindset and his unexplained absence this morning.”
“I thought they seemed different today,” Meyers said quietly.
“And have you asked the rest of the troop where Shipman is? Someone must know something,” Heath demanded, apparently not happy he was being left out of the conversation.
“Yes, sir,” Andy said. “They were questioned by Sergeant Trokof this morning. The cadets know nothing of Shipman’s whereabouts.”
“And you trust them?” Heath said, incredulous. “The troop is here for the simple reason that they are a group of manipulative bastards who aren’t to be trusted. And you believed them?”
Trokof’s posture changed, from rigid, silent attention to anger. He started to speak but Andy cut him off.
“Yes, I believe them.”
“I want to talk to Troop 18. All of them. Now,” Heath said. He tugged at the sleeves of his uniform, clearly dismissing everyone.
Andy indicated with a jerk of her head that Meyers should get the cadets from the kitchen cabin, giving a quick nod to Trokof and Kate that they could go. She’d deal with Heath on her own. Without another word to Heath, Andy pulled the radio out of her belt and called Les to find out where she was with her team.
“We’ll have the whole troop assembled in ten minutes,” Andy said to Heath after she’d checked in with Les.
I opposed this,” Heath said to Andy, not acknowledging what she’d just said. “I told the rest of the COs that this was only going to make a bad situation worse. And so far you are proving me right, Sgt. Wyles. Find the cadet, turn this thing around, get to the bottom of this, and for fuck’s sake find out something I can report on to show that you’re making some kind of progress.” He walked away across the quad, not even giving Andy a chance to speak.
Anger seethed in Andy’s belly. Standing alone, she let it run its course, snaking up through her stomach into her chest and muscles until she could breathe it out again. Heath wasn’t the most pressing issue. The troop’s transgression wasn’t even the pressing issue. Cadet Shipman was still missing and needed to be found. Right now, that was her only focus. Andy walked down the gravel road away from camp and radioed in to Kurtz down at the main house, asking her to switch to a private channel.
She had to smile as Kurtz poured explet
ive after descriptive expletive through the small two-way radio, giving her opinion of Heath and his boys club mentality. She called him an asshole, a dinosaur, a prick. Andy agreed and felt better having listened to Kurtz vent. But only for a moment. She asked Kurtz to call Zeb and have him continue his search around Kamloops and to check in every twenty minutes. If Shipman hadn’t been found in the next two hours, he was to call into the local detachment for support.
Nine minutes later, the fifteen members of Troop 18 stood silently in three rows in the quad. The instructors and Kate stood near Heath, none of them turned towards him, none of them even wanting to look at him. Andy felt slightly sick as the worry gnawed at her, annoyed they were going to stand around and listen to a useless, enforced, and self-aggrandising lecture from Heath instead of continuing to look for Shipman. She flicked the radio on her belt and hoped like hell that Zeb could find some trace of the missing cadet in town.
“Where’s Cadet Shipman?” Heath said to the troop, his voice pitched to carry, his tone relaying exactly what he thought of them. Beside her, Andy saw Trokof sway slightly, rock on his toes then back again, before planting his boots firmly in the ground. He didn’t move again through the interrogation.
The troop didn’t move in response to the question—not a boot out of place, not a shiver in the wind, not a blink. Troop 18 fought back the only way they knew how.
Getting nothing, Heath moved on. He pulled a list out of his pocket and scanned it before looking back to the troop.
“Cadet Awad,” he called out, reading from the top of his list. “Where is Cadet Shipman?”
“I don’t know, Superintendent Heath,” Awad called out his response, not breaking formation.
Heath immediately went down to the next cadet on his list. It didn’t take long for him to go through the entire troop, each cadet answering exactly as the one before. Andy clamped down on her frustration, refusing to check her watch to verify how much time they were wasting on this effort.
Heath put away the paper, seemingly satisfied with the response he’d just been given.
“Thank you, Troop 18, for confirming for me that you are a group of useless little shits who are willing to lie to their superiors. Reading the file from the Chief Training Officer, I had suspected as much, but having my opinion validated is reassuring to say the least.”
Andy felt the tension rip through the group, but not the cadets. They were used to threats and intimidation. The instructors, however, all held themselves rigidly in check, each reacting in their own way to Heath’s accusations. Andy had a moment to be thankful Zeb wasn’t here. She couldn’t be sure if he would have reacted to this with full agreement or protective denial. Either way, it would have been difficult to keep him quiet. Andy caught Kate’s eye again, her mouth set in a grim line, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. Kate was pissed.
“You might think you’ve got this whole thing worked out, that you are smarter than me and smarter than your instructors. But I’ll tell you none of you will survive five minutes outside of Depot with this kind of attitude and this kind of history.” He said it with every nuanced threat he could manage in his voice and his body language. “No one will coddle you. No one will care about what you went through at Depot because every one of those bastards have been through the same shit. You aren’t special, and you damn well aren’t ready to be Mounties. Right now, Troop 18, all I can say about you is that you are an embarrassment.”
Heath turned to the instructors. Andy had no doubt he was including every one of them in that accusation of embarrassment.
“Regardless of when Cadet Shipman is found, I will be recommending to the Chief Training Officer that his contract is immediately revoked. And let me be perfectly clear—”
Superintendent Heath never got the chance to finish the sentence. A ripple of noise came from the cadets, and Andy stepped around the still-speaking superintendent. The troop had broken formation, all turned toward the gravel road that led out to the highway. Cadet Greg Shipman stood there, still wearing his civilian gear, a past five o’clock shadow darkening his face and circles under his eyes making him look like he’d been up all night. He looked weary and uneasy, but as everyone turned to look at him, he squared his shoulders, dug his shoes into the gravel, and stood resolutely at attention. Andy felt relief flood through her, and it wasn’t just seeing Shipman alive and in one piece. As she watched him compose himself, even tired and scruffy, he put the effort into looking like a cadet. To Andy, this meant he wasn’t quitting. He hadn’t left the troop. Apparently the rest of his troop felt the same, because Andy heard the whispered relief ripple out behind her.
All of that stopped as Superintendent Heath started walking toward the lone, unkempt cadet, his face a mask of barely checked fury. Andy knew he had no power to release Shipman from his cadet training contract, but she wasn’t sure if Shipman knew that. Heath passed the instructors, keeping his eye trained on the cadet, but Sergeant Trokof stepped in front of the furious CO, subtly and effectively cutting him off. Trokof’s face was blank, but his walk was purposeful, even angry. Andy couldn’t be entirely sure where that was aimed right now. She wondered if Trokof himself knew.
“Cadet Shipman, where the hell have you been?” Trokof yelled, his deep voice booming across the quad. Before Shipman could respond, Trokof added a caution. “A complete answer is necessary. All the information your miniscule brain can come up with. I want to hear it, Constables Meyers and Manitou want to hear it. Sgt. Wyles and Dr. Morrison I’m sure would like to hear it. And you can see we have a Commissioned Officer with us today, and I am positive Superintendent Heath will demand an explanation as to your whereabouts. So a complete answer, Cadet Shipman. Where have you been?”
Shipman scanned the assembled crowd with bloodshot eyes running over his troop, glancing briefly at the superintendent’s unsympathetic expression before moving to the more neutral looks from his instructors and Kate and Andy. Shipman took a breath.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I came outside for some air. Took a flashlight, found the highway and just kept walking.” Shipman called it out like he’d rehearsed it, presenting the facts as neutrally as possible. “I…” Shipman started again, then stopped, glanced quickly at his troop and back to Trokof. He licked his lips nervously. “Today is JT’s birthday. It’s…hard. But I should have been back at camp in time for roll call this morning.”
Trokof seemed taken aback, like he hadn’t actually been expecting a complete answer. The facts, the timing, and the reasoning all scanned for Andy. They added up and made sense. Still, there was such a huge potential for loss here…taking a walk and risking losing his place in the troop. Losing a career, something he’d been working so hard to accomplish. All for one very bad day.
“Cadet Shipman, you have twenty minutes to make yourself presentable, then I want you to get checked out by Dr. Morrison. I will be conferring with Chief Training Officer Lincoln to decide your future with the RCMP.” Trokof said this all with very little inflection. Andy wondered if this was it. If Shipman had finally broken Trokof and what she was witnessing right now was him giving up on Troop 18.
Shipman hesitated, waiting for his signal to be released.
“Now, Cadet Shipman. Go now.”
Andy felt a small wave of unease slip through her stomach as Shipman hustled to his cabin with only a quick glance at his troop. This isn’t how she wanted this to end. They needed more time. She needed more time.
Trokof took a moment, staring at the spot the cadet had just vacated. His eyes were blank, and he seemed to sway so very slightly that Andy had to wonder if she’d imagined it. When he turned back again, he was all business, his voice sharp, his instructions precise.
“Meyers and Manitou, I want you to take the troop into the lecture hall. Dr. Morrison, if you could check over Cadet Shipman and report back on his health status. Sgt. Wyles if you could radio in to Kurtz, have her call Zeb back and then if she would be so kind as to pick us up and bring us d
own to the main house. We have a call we need to make.”
Trokof didn’t make eye contact with Superintendent Heath until after he’d completed his orders. It was the first time he’d looked at the CO with anything resembling parity. Andy saw no challenge there, no egotistical male pissing contest. Just a check, from one senior officer to another, that protocol was being followed. Trokof’s gaze slipped over Andy as he walked away, his face unreadable. Andy swallowed her unease and pulled out her radio. Right now, the only thing she needed to do was follow orders.
*
Half an hour later, Andy, Trokof, and Heath sat stiffly in Kurtz and Tara’s plush living room. It was an odd assembly in a strange setting. They crowded around Heath’s cellphone for their impromptu teleconference, surrounded by Country Life magazines and coasters decorated with pressed wildflowers. Trokof stood awkwardly, leaning down slightly when he wanted to speak, which was little. Heath leaned back in one of the armchairs, ankle crossed over his knee, one hand pressed against his mouth as he stared down Andy sitting across from him.
He spoke loudly and often, presenting his opinion of the troop in general and Cadet Shipman in particular with all the clarity and insight of someone who’d been on scene for five minutes. Andy sat with her elbows on her knees, leaning her body forward, not allowing Heath one moment to think he was intimidating her. Andy gave her opinion when Lincoln asked, sat silently the rest of the time, and hoped like hell Lincoln wouldn’t be swayed by the idiot of a CO sitting across from her.
“Okay,” Lincoln said, and Andy thought he sounded tired. “Okay, let’s handle it this way. Have Meyers write him up for this one, which will make two flags on his file. Albert, hand out whatever mod-b you think is appropriate. And make it clear to Greg Shipman that he’s on his last chance. Either he makes it through Camp Depot and the rest of training as well as his field placement without another mark on his chart or he’s gone. Shipman is out of chances.” Lincoln’s tone was final. This troop was pushing him to his limit.
Troop 18 Page 14
