“Hmmm,” said Wayne. “And Sloane Caine?”
So he still wouldn’t answer. “I know nothing about her from direct observation except that she was flirting with Mylo Matheson last week. She hasn’t left her suite since soon after I arrived here yesterday. Her maid-slash-companion, Cheryl, takes her food in and keeps her company. They were out together on the Friday night and didn’t realize until midnight that Orrin and Tyrone hadn’t returned. Not that it means much now that I suspect the tampering was done a week ago, except that she wouldn’t have let Tyrone drive off with his father if she knew the vehicle wasn’t safe.”
“Now that you’ve gathered first impressions,” said Wayne, “I’ll send you my dossiers on the family members. It’s only public stuff, what my internet snooper could come up with on short notice, but maybe it will suggest angles for further inquiry.”
“I’ll go over them right away and let you know if my friend can narrow down the garage intruder.”
“Thanks.” Wayne didn’t hang up right away. “I’m putting my trust in you, McCrae. One suspicious death and two missing clients in the same week is the kind of crisis that can destroy a security firm. While I’m keeping Jake Wyman calm and covering my regular clients, you’re my thin blue line up there. In blue jeans, get it?”
Wayne must be really rattled. Not only had he praised her — he’d cracked a small joke. “Uh, sure thing, boss. I’ve got your back.”
She signed off and headed out to the truck. What would she learn at the SAR base? Did they have a firm direction for the search yet?
Over supper with Andy and Bart, Lacey passed along what she knew about the day’s search. “No sightings yet, but more people out camping in the back country have been alerted to watch for the vehicle, and for Orrin and Tyrone, alone or separately.”
Andy frowned. “Why would they separate?”
“It might be on purpose,” said Lacey. “Ben thinks Orrin could have dropped Tyrone off somewhere and driven away, then waited for him to catch up.”
“Ah,” said Bart. “And if Ty went the wrong way, and Orrin went looking for him in another direction, they could be circling within a few miles of each other. Except I’m pretty sure Orrin would have come out to cell range and yelled for help ASAP if he hadn’t found Ty by dark.”
“Unless something went wrong with his truck, and he couldn’t.” Lacey took in Andy’s worried face. “I’m sure it won’t be long now before one or both of them stumble out to a road and get spotted. The weather’s great, and there are plenty of creeks to drink from. At worst they’ll have to be treated for waterborne infections, and maybe sunburn.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Andy didn’t look convinced. “It sure isn’t the same around here without Ty. He could be a pain, but we played a lot of board games and stuff, too.”
“Ben and I spent some time with the map this morning, trying to figure out all the places Orrin dumped us.” Bart rubbed a scrape on his cheek. “I rode out this morning to check all the locations we remembered on the ranch. I know you said not to, but horseback sign can’t be confused with a missing person on foot. Beyond our borders we’re hopeless. We were so young, we didn’t grasp how much wilderness is around here. Isn’t there more that could be done from the air?”
“Every volunteer pilot who knows how to do a grid search was up today. The cameras they’re using are set up for crowd-sourcing analysis, too.”
Andy’s eyes came to life. “That’s where they put all the photos up on a website and volunteers at home go over every inch, looking for traces of people.”
“I know,” said Bart wearily. “We watched that documentary together.” It was the first sign of irritation he’d shown, and quite minor given the two days of strain. A basic nice man, Lacey decided.
“Also in new tech,” she said to change the subject, “they’ve got drones that can look for phone signals. If the phones have any charge left and they’re within whatever the radius is under the drone, there’ll be a ping back to the operator. Then they’ll send ground teams directly to that spot.”
Bart leaned his elbows on the table. “Cool. Assuming they have an idea where to look, I guess. Drones don’t have unlimited range.”
“No, and there are only a couple of SAR-certified drone operators in the whole province so far.”
“Why don’t they have them everywhere?” asked Andy. “It seems like a no-brainer.”
“The technology is pretty new. And for SAR work, it’s not like any weekend hobbyist can show up, any more than they can for ground searches. The operators have to be SAR-certified plus have training in both drone operation and aerial search techniques. If we had a vehicle as a starting point, the odds would be exponentially better.” She didn’t say that if the Rover had gone into a deep ravine because of steering loss and/or brake failure, they’d be exponentially worse. Summer trees were a significant handicap; a green vehicle could stay hidden until the trees dropped their leaves in October.
Her companions’ tired eyes and drooping faces looked like innocence and stress. She’d spend an hour with their dossiers tonight, but her gut said these two nice people had the least to gain or lose by Orrin’s death.
Changing the subject a second time, she told them, “I think I might be addicted to climbing. Ben gave me a beginner lesson on the wall this morning, and I haven’t done anything in years that was both physically and mentally challenging. Complete concentration, back and forth in sync with your climbing partner, knowing where your hands and feet are and where their hands and feet are, connected by the rope. It was pretty intense.” She was going on like a giddy schoolgirl, but why not, when her whole body still buzzed with the thrill?
Bart said, “I don’t mind showing you more tonight.”
Andy shook her head. “Leave it to tomorrow. Did Ben tell you, Lacey, that you can strain your hand tendons through early overwork? Free-climbers train for months or years before a big expedition, to cling on to almost invisible cracks in the rock and hold their body weight for long enough to move some other hand or foot. It’s a very demanding sport, and I’d hate to see you spoil it for yourself by overdoing it in the first flush of enthusiasm.”
Bart was looking sideways at Andy, but he dropped the climbing and said instead, “I’m heading in to the office tomorrow morning. Got to show the family flag and reassure the staff that the place won’t immediately collapse without Orrin’s hand at the helm. It’s going to be a challenge when I’m not feeling it myself. My hopes were pinned on Orrin’s credit cards showing he’s flown off to Texas for a long weekend or something, and now I know that’s not a possibility. His secretary said none of his known accounts has been tapped. At least there are no big deals hanging on his word. Things will keep turning over until he’s found.”
Lacey schooled her face not to reveal anything but mild inquiry. She wasn’t ready to spill that someone had apparently sabotaged Orrin’s Rover, but what if it was someone from the company? Executives had probably been invited to the ranch a time or two and might have figured out the security holes.
“Would you be able to tell,” she asked, “if anyone seemed particularly happy that Orrin’s unavailable?” As Bart stared at her, she scrambled for a rationale. “When a strong boss unexpectedly goes away, any worker with something on their conscience might take advantage of the situation to cover their tracks.”
“If you say so.” He eyed her curiously.
Andy got up to clear the plates, and he silently gathered glasses. They brushed aside Lacey’s offer of help.
Later, skimming the monitors from her office chair, she saw the couple on the new bluff-stairs camera, going down. They were probably getting in their last destressing workout. Once she’d gone through Wayne’s dossiers, she would go down with the ladder to be ready for the morning’s camera adjustments. If they were climbing, she could watch and get pointers without straining her finger tendons. She opened Wayne’s email with the dossiers and clicked Download All.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In her dusty studio, Jan squinted at her biggest monitor, magnifying and brightening a still from Lacey‘s garage video. With each manipulation, the general outline became clearer. The individual wore a dark sweater or hoodie and probably gloves, given that the hands weren’t showing up, either. They held a small flashlight and reached under the open hood of the Range Rover. At this camera angle, the body’s shape and height were hidden by the next vehicle. She did what she could to enhance the image and then saved it as a new file. Back to the video, to advance it frame by frame and find another good shot to brighten and contrast, maybe when the person left the vehicle and came toward the camera. It wouldn’t be a firm identification, but it might eliminate a few suspects.
A door clicked down the hall, and she looked up. “Terry, is that you?”
“No, it’s me.”
“Rob!” Rushing out, she threw her arms around him. “I was so afraid you’d been arrested. Have you been with the RCMP all this time?”
“I’ll tell you,” he promised, weariness in every line of his face. “But I really need booze and food.”
She followed him to the kitchen. “There’s pasta salad if you want. Or something hot? I can warm you up soup. Canned, not as good as yours.”
Rob splashed whisky into his glass and drank half straight. He topped it up with water and slumped onto a stool.
She sat across from him. “I don’t mean to nag, but I’ve been frantic. Didn’t know if I should call you a lawyer or what. They can’t seriously think you’d hurt Kitrin. You’ve hardly seen her in a dozen years.”
He stared at his hands. “I’m a former roommate, and I didn’t like her husband. To the police, that spells potential jealousy.”
“But Chad’s the jealous one, not you. Why haven’t they called him in for questioning?”
Rob rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. They’re fixated on me, and I can’t tell them where I was on Saturday morning.”
“Why the hell not?”
He swallowed more whisky and lowered the glass to stare into it. “I was with someone who can’t confirm it.”
“Shit, I knew it. You’re involved with someone married again, aren’t you? Damn, Rob. How can you put a cheating lover’s marriage ahead of your own freedom? You have to make him back you. You have to tell the police where you were.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Rob snarled. Then he sighed. “Sorry. I know I can’t let this stand. I’m going to talk it over with him tomorrow. If there’s a way we can do it without fallout for him, I’ll be clear. But I have to have his consent. There’s more at stake than you can possibly understand.”
“I’m your oldest friend. There’s nothing I can’t understand if you explain it to me.”
He avoided her eyes. “Well, this time there is something I’m not explaining to you. You’ll just have to trust me.”
He would not be moved from that position. Jan warmed up his soup, anyway, simmering with discontent. After he’d gone for a shower, she texted Lacey the news that he was back and still under suspicion, and then texted Dee to ask about a criminal lawyer. If he were hauled in again, she’d send help.
Her head jostling with biographical details about the brothers, their wives, and Orrin’s wives, Lacey looked out her office window at the skylights glowing on the climbing gym’s sloping roof. She stretched, skimmed through the camera monitors again, and stood up. The ladder she’d left in the garage this morning was still there. She hitched it over her shoulder, opened the door, and flashed her fob at the elevator. Going down.
When she reached the climbing gym, Bart was nowhere to be seen. Music filled the space from unseen speakers — she recognized a Frank Turner tune — and once again it was Ben belaying Andy on the wall. She was coming down when Lacey pushed the door open. Ben didn’t wait for her to touch bottom but again lifted her off the last bit of wall. She turned in his hands once her feet were on the ground, smiling up at him. When she saw Lacey she stepped back, looking down to unhook her harness. Her dark curls fell forward, hiding her expression.
“Oh, hi,” she said in a tone not particularly welcoming. “What are you doing down here at this hour?”
Lacey leaned the ladder against the wall. “I have to adjust the camera in the workout room. It’s not covering the back door properly.”
“Bart’s running on the treadmill, and he hates to be disturbed. Can’t you do that in the morning?”
The window into the workout room was dark. Bart wasn’t in there, or if he was, he was running in darkness. It seemed Andy wanted her to leave and was lying to make her go. Still, any request from the client’s family was an order. Lacey leaned the ladder in the cloakroom area, climbed the stairs, and headed back to the security office. There she checked monitors and reread dossiers, looking for items she could turn into casual-seeming questions for the various family members, and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the sting of Andy’s abrupt retreat from friendliness.
Giselle Burns Harder. Born 1952 in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, family moved to Calgary in 1965. Unfinished BA at UCalgary in Theatre. Married Orrin Caine in 1970. Two children, Earl and Debbie. Nasty divorce in 1988, initiated by Orrin. She tried to gain a bigger settlement by citing his numerous infidelities but lost due to a pre-nup agreement that diverted her share of his company holdings to her children. Post-divorce, she worked as an activities coordinator at a seniors’ centre, where she met Don Harder. She married him in 1995. His mother lived with them until her death in 2002. Giselle was widowed in 2015. Lives in West Bragg Creek. No criminal record.
Earl Caine. Born in 1972 to Giselle and Orrin. Attended public school in Calgary. In Grade 9 attended Craigeilen Academy in Ontario, where he had an undistinguished academic career, played sports, and was popular with his peers. Interviewed by police after a hazing incident resulted in a student being hospitalized; no charges but a week-long suspension. He took a B.Commerce at U of Toronto and an MBA in Chicago. Worked at his father’s company summers in various departments; headed the Calgary HR department after graduation; named Canadian VP of HR in 2002. Six years ago he took over the company’s American operations and moved to Denver. Widely expected to succeed Orrin as board chair when his father retires. Married Susie North of West Virginia in 1996, has four daughters aged 22, 19, 17, and 15.
Bart Caine, born 1990 to Orrin and his second wife, Cassandra Landry. Attended a private elementary school first in Calgary (1995 to 1998) then 5 years in a private day school on Vancouver Island. At age 12 went to Craigeilen Academy for 14 months, abruptly withdrawn in November of Grade 9 after a student incident left him with a cracked rib and black eye. Finished high school at Airth Academy on Vancouver Island, attended UC Berkeley, worked summers as a lifeguard down there, and graduated with a B.Admin. He returned to Orrin’s business in the Land Management department and took over the Alberta Lands division at age 28. Married at age 25 to Andrea Constanza Juarez.
Ben Caine. Born 1990 to Orrin and Cassandra, same academic career as Bart, including Berkeley, where he took a BA in Environmental Science. While at Craigeilen was suspended 3 times and expelled once, all for fighting. He spent summers and university protesting at environmental hotspots, was arrested 14 times, charged 8 times of which 5 were dismissed, pled to 3 misdemeanours (2 in USA) and was named an honorary member of an Indigenous tribe in Brazil for helping them successfully fight a Canadian mining corporation in which his father’s company held a minority ownership stake. Retains his right to travel in USA although is on the environmentalist watch-list. Never worked for Orrin’s companies. No spouse, no long-term relationships on record.
Andrea Constanza Juarez. Born 1993 in Argentina to an oil magnate (deceased). Raised by mother and stepfather in Connecticut. Attended UC Berkeley, where she met Bart. Most notable for minor celebrity status as an early video blogger on YouTube, where her followers topped 2 million in her final year. Legal issues involve restraining orders against two paparazzi and one obsessed fan. Had a public melt-down i
n 2014 and became obsessed with her personal privacy. Shut down her vlog and all public appearances on marriage to Bart Caine in 2015.
Cassandra Landry Caine. Born 1968 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, married Orrin Caine 1989, divorced in 1997. Mother of Bart and Ben. Lives in the Comox Valley on Vancouver Island, where she owns a pottery studio and has two convictions for possession of illegal substances. Applied for a pardon after federal marijuana laws changed; outcome pending.
Sloane Carter Caine. Born 1985 in Toronto, had a brief career as a preteen catalogue model, high school cheerleader, attended Ryerson but left with an finished BA (no major declared). Worked as a hostess at the National Club in Toronto, where she met Orrin. Roomed with best friend Cheryl Marr until married to Orrin in 2007. Mother of Tyrone Caine, born in 2008. No criminal record or legal proceedings.
Lacey closed the final dossier page and looked up from her keyboard for the usual monitor survey. The lights in the workout room had gone up. Two figures, male and female, were half visible on the still-misaligned camera as they hugged inside the open bathroom door. Aw … Bart and Andy being affectionate. He’d been there after all.
When he pulled Andy’s T-shirt off over her head, Lacey shut down the monitors for the night. She made her final phone check with Ike and headed out into the balmy summer night. Passing the lighted great room, she wished she could sit and stargaze over the sleeping valley. But barely an hour after being politely put in her place by Andy, she didn’t feel comfortable resting on a chaise in a family area.
Surely she could lean on the railing atop the bluff stairs without causing offence?
She’d hardly settled there when she heard footsteps crossing the stones. Bart, fully dressed in the clothes he’d worn at supper, leaned on the rail beside her.
“Evening, Lacey. Are you heading back to our place now?”
She nodded, unwilling to open her mouth while the implication of his presence upended what she thought she’d seen heating up in the workout room.
Why the Rock Falls Page 15
