by Linda Moore
I picked up my phone and Riley gave me her email address. I sent her the one file I had downloaded from Aurelia’s computer.
“Got it!” Riley said, after a few seconds. She scrolled through her other messages. “Holy shit!”
“What?”
“Just a second, Roz, I have to call Constable Cudmore.” She looked at me. “This can’t be true.”
He picked up and she spoke quickly. “Hi—tell me! Okay when? On what? ATV news—an actual clip? Okay, let me see if I can track it down. You’re there now? I’ll get back to you.”
“What is it?” I said.
“On your phone, Roz—quick! Track down the 5 o’clock news—ATV.”
“Okay…. Got it, I think….What are we looking for?”
“It’s Jacob’s place! Jesus Christ!”
“What?”
“I should’ve kept him in the lock-up!”
A banner scrolled across the screen: Breaking News: Abduction from North Mountain. Jacob’s mother, Darlene, and his sister, Katie, were sitting on the wicker couch in their front porch being interviewed by a reporter from ATV.
“Two big men!” Darlene was barely holding it together as she spoke. “They roughed him up bad and pulled him right out the house and then they took off. We were some scared…. Katie, show them! She’s got it on her phone.”
The next thing on the screen was Katie’s shaky video, taken through the porch window, of the helicopter in the front yard of the farmhouse. One of the thugs was pointing a gun towards the porch, and the other was shoving Jacob into the helicopter. Then they both climbed in and it lifted straight up and flew off to the south.
The reporter came back on saying, “Our team happened to be covering a funding announcement down the road at Baxter’s Harbour. We were just on our way out when we saw the chopper taking off and we came over to investigate. The RCMP arrived a few minutes ago. There’ll be more on this abduction. Tune in to the ATV late-night news at eleven.” The item closed with a shot of an RCMP cruiser pulling into the yard, featuring Constable Cudmore at the wheel.
Riley was already back on her phone to Brad Cudmore. “Should I come up there?… Okay. It doesn’t sound like there’s anything more you can do. Did the perpetrators leave anything behind?… Well, check around. The mother and daughter don’t need medical assistance or anything?… Find out if Jacob said anything to them about what was happening or if the abductors said anything—and take notes. And make sure you get a copy of the clip from the girl’s phone. Did you hear me, Constable Cudmore?… Well, it helps if you say yes after I ask you to do something, then I know you’ve heard me. Okay, signing off. See you at the detachment.”
She sighed. “He means well.”
Riley left, and a horrible black cloud of guilt and utter helplessness swept over me. What fools we were not to see that coming. Now it seemed so obvious: the temporary touchdown pad for the helicopter still there, us assuming that everyone was gone including the two thugs. Of course Jacob was vulnerable. And his abduction this afternoon was a clear sign that he was in far too deep, that he knew who was involved and what they were up to. These guys hadn’t disappeared—they were still cleaning up.
Chapter 26
My phone bleeped. I stared at it. Harvie flashed across the screen. “Really?” I said aloud.
Harvie Greenblatt had been working as a lawyer for the Public Prosecution Office in Halifax when I met him and had been instrumental in my getting a research job there. We had gotten close and were flirting with the idea of living together, but I was hesitant, ever leery of commitment. And then Harvie got offered the job in Montreal and we both took it as a sign that we should go our separate ways. But I had to admit, I missed him.
I picked up. “Harvie?”
“Roz—yeah hi. Hi! Roz, how are you?”
“Not great…I—”
“Not great? Oh no. I thought you were on vacation—isn’t that what you said?”
“I am on vacation, and I’m doing the Beckett project, but I’ve gotten sidetracked into this terrible investigation. And earlier today I thought it was finally resolving but it’s actually getting worse…. How are you, Harvie. Are you in Montreal?”
“No—well, that’s the thing, Roz. I’m here. I’m at the Halifax airport. Just waiting on a car rental. I have a speaking engagement tomorrow night, a fundraiser thing for Dal Legal Aid organized by a longtime colleague of mine. Anyway, I thought maybe–”
“Yes!”
“What?”
“Yes! Come out and see me. Come right now. The Becketters don’t get here until tomorrow evening, and a visit with you is exactly what the doctor ordered. I’ll forward directions to your phone. It’s about an hour and a half from the airport.”
“Good, good. Wonderful! Okay. Is there a grocery store? I can cook something for us when I get there…Roz?”
“Sorry—I….”
“You’re not crying?”
“With happiness, Harvie. Really, you’re going to cook something?”
“Of course I am.”
“Well, there’s a big store just off the highway in Windsor and a well-stocked store in Canning that stays open until ten. But you’ll have to get literally everything you need—I mean—I do have salt and pepper here. And oats. And I have some Irish whisky. But that’s it. Oh and Harvie, could you pick up a couple of cans of cat food?”
“She’s with you?”
“She’s having a much better time than I am.”
“Okay, Roz. Send me those directions. I’ll be there before dark! Probably around eight. Take it easy.”
“I will.”
“Roz?”
“Yes?”
“It’s nice to hear your voice.”
We rang off. I forwarded him the directions and looked at the cat.
“Harvie’s coming to visit us!” I said, feeling elated at the prospect. “And he’s going to bring you some food. So do you want the last of those crunchies?”
I’d been holding them back so she’d have something for the morning. She was all for having them now. She marched into the kitchen and stood by her dish.
“Okay, but go easy—don’t forget to chew.”
I paced around, full of anxiety about Jacob and impatient for Harvie’s arrival. Today of all days I really needed a friend.
To calm my nerves, I stepped outside. I looked out across the Minas Basin, and was immediately overwhelmed with images of Aurelia on the sandbar, where all this had begun. I turned away from the view. The cat was at the porch door so I invited her to join me on the stoop. She came out and washed her face. The sun would be shining across the fields from the west for another three hours, so to shake off the dread, I decided to take a walk.
I went along the driveway to the road and turned right. I looked down and there was the cat beside me. “Want to come down to the end of the road and visit the cows?” I said.
Just where Longspell Road curved and headed north toward Ghoul’s Hollow was the community’s Little Free Library mounted on a post in the turnaround.
I unlatched the small door to see what treasures were in there. The book that caught my eye was called Sea Sick by Alanna Mitchell, and it was about acidification—the ocean in crisis. Sophie once told me that it had been developed into a powerful theatre presentation performed by the author. She had been deeply affected by it when she saw it in Toronto.
As I stood in the turnaround perusing the book cover, I recognized Björn’s green Volvo coming up the road. The cat and I headed back towards the cottage and met up with him by my driveway.
“Björn! How are you?”
“Very well, thank you, Roz. I see you’ve chosen my book.”
“Really—this was yours? I should have guessed.”
“So how is our invalid doing?”
“He and Sophie left Saturday to go b
ack to the city as planned. McBride told me today that he’s been getting rest. I think he’s out of the woods. Thanks again for that delicious dinner on Friday night.”
“Roz, I came up here to tell you Grace saw a disturbing news segment on TV today, about young Jacob. Apparently he was abducted right out of his mother’s house and removed in a helicopter. No one even knows where it was heading.”
“I saw it too, Björn. Corporal Monaghan and I watched it. One of her constables went out there to Old Mill Road to investigate. Jacob knows too much and if they see him as a threat—well, just as they did to McBride, they’ll do whatever it takes to shut him up.”
I was unexpectedly in tears.
“Roz! Are you okay? You need a break from all this.”
“I’m okay. Sorry. I’m just worried sick about him. I don’t know what do about it…and that’s always the worst.”
“And weren’t you planning to do a theatre project this week?”
“Yes, Björn, I still am. The actors are coming tomorrow. I better pull myself together!” I dabbed my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I have an old friend coming up this evening for dinner.”
“Please call on us if you need anything.”
“Thank you for thinking of me, Björn.”
He started his car and pulled around to head back. I watched him drive away.
“He has a kind soul,” I said to the cat.
True to his word, Harvie appeared at 8 P.M. I helped him bring in the groceries, and then we walked around the property and took in the vista, while imbibing a glass of the local sparkling wine he had purchased along the way.
“You look great, Roz—like you’re getting some sun!” Harvie said, as we settled into the Adirondacks.
“That’s good to hear, considering I’ve barely slept for several days. It’s been so crazy!”
“So tell me what’s going on. I want to know what’s got you so anxious.”
“It’s long and complicated, Harvie, but suffice it to say that every single day since I arrived here for my so-called vacation, someone has been seriously assaulted or worse—that list includes me, Molly, and McBride, by the way.” I proceeded to give him a condensed version of the week’s events, concluding with the alarming and very recent occurrence of Jacob’s abduction.
“Holy cow, Roz.”
“I’ve missed hearing you say that, Harvie. Anyway, that’s the gist.”
“That’s a hell of a lot to deal with, Roz. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I took his hand. “I’m not okay. I’m a mess. But I’m relieved you’re here with me—and please, for tonight let’s just eat and drink and you can tell me all about Montreal. Deal?”
“Deal. Let’s get this barbecue fired up while there’s still some daylight.”
“Is there one? Oh yes, there it is. I hadn’t noticed it.” I really hadn’t.
“It’s hard to miss, Roz,” he said teasing me as he lifted the cover and prepared to light it.
“It’s a special skill I have,” I said. “Developed over many years.”
“Stay put,” he said refilling my glass. “I’m just going to go inside and get the chicken soaking in a nice little marinade I brought. We’ll let it sit and absorb all that flavour and then we’ll put in on the grill. While it’s cooking, we can toss together a quick Caesar salad.”
“Cover that chicken while it soaks, Harvie, so the cat doesn’t drag it off somewhere—like onto the bed.”
“Good advice. We don’t need that.”
I watched him disappear into the cottage and grinned. For the first time since I’d arrived in Kingsport, I felt the tension sliding away.
S
We lit candles and ate at the table in the porch.
“How is it, Roz?”
“Melt in the mouth, Harvie. How do you do it? I’ve really missed you.”
“My cooking, you mean?” he teased.
“That, too.”
“Likewise.” He took my hand. “Maybe you should move to Montreal.”
“I love Montreal—but what would I do there? My French isn’t good enough for work. You must do a lot of work in French.”
“I manage, but it’s always a challenge.”
“You’ll get better at it.”
“I am getting better, and so would you.”
“And do you like the city?”
“I’m right at home there. I’ve got a nice apartment in a great old Jewish neighbourhood. It’s comfortable, relaxed, friendly, good food, all that. But it would be more fun if you were there.”
“I’ll visit,” I said. “Promise. Can you hang out tomorrow for a while?”
“I need to go into Halifax early afternoon, but maybe we could both drive into Wolfville and have lunch there and then I’ll head into the city.”
“Let’s do that. In fact we could get takeout and eat it at the botanical gardens. It must be gorgeous right now. Then, after you leave I can just go into the big lounge there and do my prep on the Beckett.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Harvie and I were tangled up together sound asleep on my bed when the phone startled us awake. “Is that me?” I said.
“It’s not me,” Harvie said. “My bleep is sweeter.”
“You do have a sweet bleep. What time is it?” I reached out to the bedside table and felt around for my phone. “Oh God—4 A.M.”
“Yes, Roz here.” I said.
“Please! I need your help! Roz, can you help me?”
I sat up. “Who is—Jacob? Is that you? Where are you?”
“Somewhere near Boston outside this garage-diner place on the highway. I got away from them when we landed in Pennsylvania.”
“How on earth did you manage that?”
“I hid in this culvert under a highway exit. They had the helicopter out looking but after a while it got quiet. I’ve been hitching for hours—300 miles or something.” His breathing was shaky, as though he was just barely holding himself together.
“I’m so relieved you’re alive, Jacob. What can I do?”
“I need to get out of here—back across the border—but I have nothing. No passport, no ID, no money. If I get stopped by the cops, they’ll probably throw me in jail, or worse, hand me back to those guys. I’m really scared.”
“Just a minute, Jacob—don’t hang up. I’m going to talk to my friend about this for a minute, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Jacob is stranded on the highway near Boston—no ID, no money. He needs help. Can you suggest anything?”
“Holy cow.”
“Yeah….”
“Wait—Boston! Yes…I have an old law school crony from Osgoode who went there to work at the Canadian Consulate. He’s likely still there. Can Jacob get himself to the consulate?”
“Jacob? Can you hitch into Boston? My friend Harvie knows someone at the Canadian Consulate there. Who is it, Harvie?”
“Let me talk to him.” Harvie took my phone. “I’ll put it on speaker, Roz.”
“Hi, Jacob. My name’s Harvie Greenblatt. I’m a lawyer. I think I know someone who can help you, but I’ll need to give him your number so you guys can make a plan together. So can I just take this number of yours from Roz’s phone and give it to him?”
“Yeah—of course,” Jacob said.
“Lucky thing you’ve got the phone.”
“I know. I had it in my boot. They checked my pockets and I guess they just thought since they took me right out of the porch that I didn’t have it on me.”
“And is it charged?”
“Not since yesterday.”
“Well, if it gets to a point where you can’t use it, just head for the Canadian Consulate and ask for Gregory D’Entrement. Give him my name as a reference and hopefully I’ll have talked to him by then, and he’ll be
expecting you.”
“Okay, Canadian Consulate, Boston, Gregory D’Entrement. Is he Acadian? My Dad’s a Leblanc.”
“He was from New Brunswick, so yeah, I think you’re right. Acadian. Jacob, listen, if I can’t reach Gregory or he’s no longer there, the Canadian Consulate should have someone who can help you. I mean, I know it’s not easy with no ID. Everyone thinks everyone’s a terrorist these days, but hey, they’re Canadian eh. I’m going to hand you back to Roz.”
“Thanks, Mr. Greenblatt.”
“Hi, Jacob. Do you think you’ll be able to get a ride at this hour?”
“It’s mostly trucks out there right now. Tanker drivers usually stop.”
“Really? That’s funny. I’ll let the RCMP know that we’ve heard from you.”
“No, don’t! Please—if there’s a leak, those guys would come after me, for sure they would.”
“You’re right, Jacob. That’s the last thing you need. So we’ll keep this information under wraps until we know you’re safe, which I hope will be soon. Be really careful.”
“Thank you, Roz.”
“Goodbye, Jacob. Good luck.”
I leaned across Harvie to put my phone back on the table.
I looked into his eyes. “So—of course you knew someone at the consulate in Boston. Amazing! Hopefully you’ll be able to reach him.”
“I’ll find someone to talk to—even if Gregory’s not there. We’ll get the boy fixed up. I’ll do it first thing.”
“What’ll we do in the meantime?” I said hooking my leg over his.
“Can’t think of a thing.”
“It’s so nice. Been awhile eh?”
‘You’re not kidding.” Harvie pulled me closer. “Think about it, Roz.”
“I am thinking about it—that sweet bleep of yours.”
He laughed. “I mean Montreal! Think about Montreal!”
Chapter 27
Harvie was talking to the Canadian Consulate as soon as they opened for the day. Gregory D’Entrement was indeed still working there and they indulged in a few moments of jovial reminiscence. “No sign of him yet,” Harvie said, putting his phone away. “Greg’s promised to watch for Jacob and keep me in the loop.”
