‘I don’t have any,’ he said, shrugging.
‘Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me either. Great! I’ll be your friend for a night.’
Chapter 18:
‘Frank, I need you to cover for me tonight.’
His expression was almost comical. Charlie knew her friend had never heard those words coming from her mouth, and he looked like he couldn’t believe his ears.
‘Do you mind?’ she thought to ask.
‘No, of course not. I know it’s none of my business, but in light of recent events, I’d like to know if whatever plans you have are safe.’
‘I’m going to the game,’ Charlie said, smiling widely. She was rewarded with a shocked look.
‘Not…’
‘Yes, the first game of the Stanley Cup Finals!’
‘How did you get tickets? How could you afford it?’
‘Simm got them.’
‘How could he afford it?’
‘I don’t know. Something about a firstborn child. I don’t care. I’m going!’
‘Wow, lucky you. In that case, I don’t mind covering for you.’
From then on, the day dragged by sluggishly. At five o’clock, with the after-work crowd shuffling in, preparing to watch the game on the TV screens, Charlie and Harley hopped in a taxi –she was no longer allowed to walk home alone – and went back to her apartment. She hardly noticed the stains on her door as she rushed to her bedroom and excitedly searched through her closet. After finding what she needed, she got to work in front of the bathroom mirror. It was a long time since she had gone to a game and she wanted to do it right.
At six fifteen, the doorbell buzzed and Charlie smiled in satisfaction. She had timed it flawlessly. She flung open the door, expecting an approving look, but she was thrown off by his appearance, hardly noticing his shocked expression.
‘You’re kidding me, right?’ he said.
‘You’re the one who’s got to be kidding,’ Charlie said. ‘You’re going like that?’
She looked him up and down, taking in his jeans, plain black boots, black leather jacket, and a Montreal Canadiens cap, the sole concession he had made.
Charlie glanced at the mirror by the door. The red Montreal Canadiens jersey hung mid-thigh, with the sleeves rolled up past her wrists. On each cheek, she had painted the logo of the team in bright red and navy blue, and her hair was pulled back and tied with a red and blue official hair tie. What could he possibly find wrong with her outfit? On the contrary, he looked dead boring compared to her.
‘Okay, never mind,’ he said. ‘We have to get going.’
They weren’t far from the Bell Center, but the streets were congested with cars and pedestrians, and it turned a typically ten-minute walk into one that took almost half an hour. When they were eventually seated, Charlie was speechless, but just for a moment.
‘Really? Behind the player’s box? I don’t believe this! I expected to be in the nosebleed section.’
‘Yep. They’re good tickets.’
‘Good? They’re fantastic! I hope your firstborn is worthy of these seats.’
The arena buzzed with excitement. The Habs had made it to the final round, and the fans were pumped and ready. Charlie knew her clientele back at the pub had their eyes glued to the screens right now, and business would be brisk. She felt a momentary flash of guilt, but told herself she was being silly. She hadn’t taken a night off in years. She deserved it.
Simm waved over a vendor and bought two beers.
‘We’ll get something to eat after, is that okay?’ he asked.
Any answer she could have given was drowned out by the cheers of the crowd as the MC announced the arrival of the teams on the ice. The Chicago Blackhawks were politely received, but the crowd went mad for the Habs.
The game started with a bang as the Canadiens scored two goals in the first period. During the first intermission, Charlie and Simm stood up to stretch, but didn’t leave the vicinity of their seats. They knew the food concession stands would be mobbed with people.
When the Blackhawks caught up during the second period, the mood was a little less jubilant in the arena. But, after having two beers each, both Charlie and Simm had to use the facilities during the next intermission. While Charlie went to the ladies’ room, Simm stood guard outside the entrance. When it was Simm’s turn, he told Charlie to wait by the door and not move a muscle. She was instructed to not hesitate to go into the men’s room to find him if she noticed anyone suspicious-looking. Charlie grimly nodded her acquiescence. She didn’t appreciate being reminded of her status as a victim, not when the hockey game had temporarily shoved the black cloud from above her head.
A matter of seconds after Simm left her alone, Charlie was approached by a teenage boy, skinny and pimply-faced. He smiled shyly at her. When he spoke, it was with a heavy French accent.
‘Here, this is for you,’ he said, handing her an envelope.
Charlie was too stunned to react, staring at the object as if he offered her a tarantula.
When she didn’t instantly take the envelope, the boy shoved it into her hand, bringing her to her senses.
‘Where did you get this?’ she said to him.
The teenager turned and hurried away from her.
‘Hey! Wait a minute!’ she shouted, not letting him out of her sight as she shoved the envelope into her pocket.
Charlie ran after the boy, but he watched her over his shoulder and took off at a sprint, weaving between the people crowding the food concessions. Charlie didn’t intend to let him get away. She ran without consideration for the people with their trays of food, or their plastic cups of beer. A cacophony of shouts and jeers followed her down the hallway, but she ignored them. She thought she heard her name being called, but she ignored that too. Her entire focus was on the skinny, little runt ahead of her.
She watched with satisfaction when he ran into someone and they both fell, sprawling across the floor in opposite directions. The teenager scrambled to his feet, jumped over his hapless victim, and ran for all he was worth. But, he had lost a lot of time, and Charlie was gaining on him. When she was just a few feet behind him, she leaped, worried she had poorly gauged her distance, but felt a measure of satisfaction when her hand caught hold of the leg of his baggy pants.
He went down hard. So did she, her ribs crying in pain when they hit the floor, but the element of shock and surprise was on her side. She crawled over him and sat on his back, straddling him. The boy gasped for air.
‘Who are you? Where did you get that letter?’ she demanded, her breathless voice not sounding as severe as she had hoped.
The boy started to mumble a reply when two arms grasped Charlie around the middle and dragged her off him. She shrieked in protest and tried to swing around to strike her assailant. Her body was still twisting when she was released, and the momentum made her fall on her rear-end beside the teenager. In her peripheral vision, she saw arms descending, and she braced herself for a blow, thinking she was being attacked by an enraged bystander.
But it was the boy who was lifted off his feet and shoved up against a wall with a bit more force than was perhaps necessary.
‘Who are you? What did you do to her?’
Simm’s face was a matter of inches from the tip of the teenager’s nose. Charlie was shocked by his sinister look, and she knew she’d be shaking in her boots if he ever turned that expression on her.
The boy’s face crumpled and tears rolled down his cheeks. He hadn’t bargained for this.
‘Nothing. He asked me to give it to her.’
‘Who?’ Simm asked, with a rough shake.
&nb
sp; ‘I don’t know. A man.’
‘Who? Where is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
Simm gave him another shake. Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. She grasped Simm’s forearm.
‘Leave him alone. He doesn’t know anything.’
‘He knows what he looks like,’ he said, turning his fierce gaze on her, never letting go of the boy.
‘What’s going on?’
The overweight security guard panted heavily and had a sheen of sweat on his face as he appeared at their side. He seized Simm’s arm with one hand while reaching for his baton with the other.
‘The kid harassed this woman,’ Simm said.
Charlie thought the term of ‘harassment’ was a bit strong, but she wouldn’t correct him. She would let Simm do the explaining.
However, the term apparently struck a chord with the guard, because he switched his attention from Simm to the still-sniffling teenager. Immediately, the boy was defensive, speaking in French, explaining that a man had given him twenty dollars to give an envelope to Charlie. He didn’t know him, didn’t know where he was, and he never thought there’d be any harm in it.
Simm let go of the boy and let him wipe his face, ridding it of tears and mucus, using the tissue Charlie dug out of her pocket and handed to him.
‘Did he hurt you?’ the guard asked Charlie, looking her up and down, taking in her disheveled appearance.
‘No, I’m fine, but I need to know who gave him the envelope.’
Again, the boy spewed the same litany of explanations about his innocence, trying to make himself look like an innocent victim. Charlie’s sympathy for him diminished. After all, he could have refused the twenty bucks and minded his own business.
‘What do you want to do, Mademoiselle?’
Charlie leaned against the wall behind her. Now that the adrenaline rush had faded, she was drained of energy.
‘Let him go. He doesn’t know anything,’ she said.
Everyone took a step back to let the kid walk away.
Chapter 19:
Charlie and Simm returned to their seats and pretended to watch the third period of the game, but they didn’t participate in the cheering or the shouts of encouragement. Charlie’s mind was preoccupied by the incident. As they sat behind the player’s bench, they both read the note that had been passed to her by the misled teenager, and it only served to upset her further.
Dear Charlene,
My name is John. I can see you’re a big fan of hockey. I would have liked to have played the game. I’m sure I would have enjoyed it. Even attending a game would be fun. You’re so lucky you can do that.
Maybe someday we can get together and talk about it.
Charlie didn’t understand what was happening. What was the point of these letters? They made no sense to her. They weren’t threatening, but they seemed to be the product of a sick mind. The sheep organs and the damage done to her apartment door backed up that theory. To top it off, she now had proof he was following her. He could be watching her right at this moment. She looked over her shoulders uneasily.
‘Damn it.’
Simm’s exclamation startled her.
‘What?’ she said.
‘He’s here somewhere. We’re so close.’ Apparently, his thoughts were treading the same line as hers.
‘Yeah, but so are twenty thousand other people.’
‘I know. It just pisses me off, that’s all.’
Suddenly, he swung to face her.
‘And do you know what else pisses me off?’
Charlie opened her mouth to respond, but he didn’t give her a chance.
‘The fact that you didn’t listen to me. Did I not tell you to stay by the door? Did I not tell you if something happened you were supposed to come in and get me?’
Charlie knew these were rhetorical questions. She would shut up and let him get it out of his system.
‘Do you know how I felt when I came out and saw you were gone?’
No, she didn’t.
‘Then, I hear shouting and screaming, for God’s sake!’
Yes, that would have been caused by her.
‘Do you know how I felt?’
Again, no, she didn’t, but she could tell it could be summarized in, ‘not good’.
‘And I could see all kinds of commotion happening down the hallway.’
This was said with much waving of hands to indicate commotion.
‘What the hell were you thinking?’
Finally, a question she could answer.
‘I was thinking I wanted to get the guy. Tiptoeing into a men’s washroom, keeping my gaze above waist-level, trying to find you, was just going to slow me down. He would have gotten away.’
‘You put yourself in danger.’
‘I got him.’
She could see he wanted to argue, but she knew she had won a point.
‘How can I protect you if you take off like that?’ he said, changing tack.
‘I didn’t hire you to protect me,’ she reminded him.
‘I refuse to lose a client because she’s running around unprotected.’
‘Simm, I won’t argue with you. I’m too tired. Let’s just agree to disagree.’
‘You must be very tired if you aren’t willing to argue with me.’
The Habs won the game, but Charlie and Simm hardly noticed. They forced smiles onto their faces so they didn’t appear to be rooting for Chicago, but the fun had been wrenched from the evening by a teenage boy and a man with a note.
Chapter 20:
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Nope.’
‘He was there?’
‘Yep.’
Charlie filled Frank in on the eventful evening at the Bell Center. He was fittingly stunned by the news.
‘So, you never really saw the guy.’
‘If I saw him, I didn’t know it was him. He could have been sitting next to me, for all I knew.’
She shivered at the thought. It was entirely possible. She looked up from her perusal of The Gazette when she heard a chuckle.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m trying to picture you doing the Wonder Woman routine.’
‘I was less Wonder Woman and more Sandra Bullock from ‘Miss Congeniality’. I don’t think I was all that graceful or powerful-looking.’
‘Next time.’
‘I hope there’s no next time.’
‘Did you sleep at Simm’s place again?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘On the couch,’ she added when she saw the arched eyebrow of her friend.
‘You should get in the bed. He’s cute. I think it’d be worth the effort.’
‘Get your mind out of the gutter, Frank. I have bigger problems to worry about right now.’
Apart from the obvious, those problems included a delay in the shipment of her most popular brand of scotch, a television screen that had decided to give out during the game last night and needed to be replaced before the next game, and a part-time employee who quit after being mauled by a drunken customer.
Unfortunately, these were all common problems to have in this particular type of business. Being stalked by a madman wasn’t common, and it left her distracted and less able to deal with her day-to-day challenges.
‘What’s he up to today?’
“Who?’
Frank gave her a look.
‘Simm? I have no idea. He dropped
me off and left. Since he’s a private investigator, I guess he’s investigating something privately. I’m sure he’ll let me know if it has anything to do with me.’
She still stung from the talking-down he had given her the night before. She believed she had reacted appropriately when the boy approached her, and if she had to do it over again, she wouldn’t do anything differently.
During the evening, Simm dropped by Butler’s, a scowl on his face. Charlie noticed him as soon as he walked in, but she didn’t approach him. She watched as his gaze skimmed the bar, hesitated when he saw Frank, and then continued until he spotted her standing by a table of clients. His frown deepened. He came over to her and motioned with his head to her office door.
Charlie bristled, but decided not to cause a scene in front of everyone.
As the door shut behind her, she swung toward him.
‘What’s with the attitude? I happen to be working, you know.’
‘Drop it. I’m not in the mood.’
‘What the…’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about Frank?’
‘What are you going on about now? You’ve decided to pick on Frank again?’
‘With reason. Why didn’t you tell me he had a record?’
‘What? Frank doesn’t have a record.’
‘Yes, he does.’
He said it with such conviction Charlie knew it had to be true. That didn’t make it easier to accept. She sat dejectedly in her chair.
‘I didn’t know. For what?’
‘I don’t have the details. He was a juvenile, so they don’t release any information, but I know it involved an assault against a girl.’
‘I don’t believe it. Frank wouldn’t hurt anyone. Besides, if they don’t release information, how did you find out about it?’
‘I have connections, and I could get the basics.’
‘Your information is wrong. He wouldn’t do it. I don’t believe it,’ she said, crossing her arms.
Sins of the Fathers Page 7
