by Vicki Delany
Adam Tocek and Norman sat on the picnic bench in what had been the Paulson’s campsite, waiting for them. Norman jumped down and greeted her with an enthusiastic tail wag and lolling tongue. As no one but John Winters was around Adam gave Molly a light touch on the arm and a private smile. Like her, he was out of uniform.
“My memory isn’t going to be perfect,” she said. “I hope you understand.”
“I do,” Winters said.
“I’m pretty sure there used to be a trail up that way.” She pointed off to the left. “People heading for the backcountry would unload most of their gear here, then leave their car in the lot closer to the entrance.”
“There isn’t a trail there now,” Tocek said, unfolding a map of the park. A black line indicated the road, colored lines marked the trails. Little squares showed shower blocks, the visitor center, the rangers’ office. She took the map and studied it. “When the new road went in giving access to the backcountry, they must have let the old trail overgrow. It wasn’t suitable, as I remember, for kids or anyone who wasn’t used to serious hiking as there are some sharp drop-offs and narrow ledges. I hope it hasn’t overgrown too much, John, or I might not be able to find the starting point. It was a rough track even back then.”
“Let’s start at the top,” he said. “What I really need to know if whether fifteen years ago a proper hiking trail was above the spot where we found the bones.”
“Does that matter?” she asked, as they headed into the trees, following yellow crime scene tape.
“It’ll help to know how the bones came to be here, if we can find out where they came from. If there wasn’t a trail whoever brought Nowak must have had some considerable strength. It would have been difficult to drag a body though the forest. It would also reduce the likelihood Nowak walked in under his own free will. If there was a trail, it expands the possible scenario. He might have walked in, under his free will or not, and on the other hand it would have been difficult, but not impossible, to get a body up there.”
Gavin and his team were hard at it, scratching through dirt and sifting leaves and forest debris, and scarcely stopped to wave when Winters, Smith, Tocek, and Norman scrambled past them up the steep mountainside.
Winters was breathing heavily by the time they got to the top. Smith knew he was a runner, but he must be pushing fifty and he wasn’t used to this sort of terrain. His high-end running shoes had been just about useless on the muddy forest floor, and Tocek had to haul him up in places. Norman bounded on ahead, leaping over rocks, dodging low branches, enjoying the excursion.
It’s a wonder, she thought, watching the happy dog, how humans survived long enough to evolve. If they were being chased across this terrain by a bear, it was obvious which species would be able to get away and which would not.
The mountain flattened out, as Tocek had reported. They emerged onto a flat ledge, about twenty yards wide. A wall of solid rock rose on the other side, and from there the mountain headed almost straight up. A few hardy cedars, firs, and pines, most of the pines dead from the beetle infestation, clung to the mountain, their roots digging into almost solid rock in search of purchase and nutrients.
“Oh, yeah,” she said letting out a long breath. “I remember this place. It was a perfect spot to stop and take a break before a long hard stretch.”
“That wasn’t hard?” Winters said.
She laughed. “We didn’t climb up that way. It’s coming back to me now. The path was fairly easy to this point, and this was a nice place to stop because the trees drop away and the view is great. We’re not far from the road, but the trail had to circle around the mountain, so the hike was longer than you might think. An hour or so, maybe, but I’m not too sure about that. You can see all the way to the river and that range of mountains. Might even be able to see your house from here, John, if we had binoculars. It used to be so green, and now look at it.” She waved her arm. Mountain range after mountain range, marching north to the Arctic, the tall pines, thousands, tens of thousands of them, green no longer. Brown and purple in death.
“What’s the other way,” he said, “heading further up?”
“It gets tough not far past this spot. Around that corner, maybe a quarter of a mile, the trail narrows and you have to be very careful of your footing. We had more than a few clients freeze up at that point. Keep going and it’s pure wilderness. Another five miles in there’s a cabin for over-nighting and a fabulous jewel of a lake. The cabin is still maintained and more trails lead off from there.” She grinned at Adam. “Next time we’re both off for a couple of days?”
“You got it.”
“You think it unlikely Nowak came that way, from the other direction, on his own or not?” Winters said.
“Walking all the way around, when this trail was still in use? That would take most of a day, I’d guess. I wouldn’t want to be carrying a body over my shoulder going through the narrow.”
“Let’s go down, then,” Winters said, “and see what there is to see.”
Smith led the way. The path was overgrown, impossible to see in places. Branches reached out to grab at their clothes and roots tugged at their feet. Winters slipped in a patch of mud and stumbled. Only a wild grab at a tree limb kept him from falling face first. Norman sniffed at the ground as they walked, but didn’t seem to be finding anything interesting.
They walked silently, feet crunching on the forest debris, the occasional scattering of the undergrowth as some small creature scrambled to get out of their way. Smith had brought a GPS and checked it occasionally, although in most places enough scraps of the old trail were visible and she could find her way.
After about an hour they came out onto flat ground. Neatly groomed empty campsites spread out around them. “That’s it,” she said. “It took us a bit longer than it used to because I got lost a couple of times. The going was tougher but we weren’t carrying any equipment so we probably moved about as fast. I’d say it would have taken me forty-five minutes back then with a fit group and our stuff.” A drop of rain landed on her hand and she looked up. Dark clouds had moved in. More rain on the way. The forensic officers would not be happy.
“No point in hanging around here,” Winters said. “There won’t be a trace of anyone passing fifteen years ago.”
“Norman didn’t seem interested in much up there,” Tocek said, “or down here.” He looked at Winters, sitting on a log, breathing heavily, rubbing at a scratch on the side of his cheek. “Want me to go for the truck, sir?”
Chapter Thirteen
Lucky Smith rarely drank. She’d open a bottle of wine if she had friends around for dinner, and that was about it. Andy had always liked a beer or two watching TV in the evenings, but she preferred a cup of tea. Her son Samwise bought her a bottle of Drambuie every Christmas and it lasted the entire year. Pastries were more Lucky’s downfall than alcohol. She did love chocolate cake and fruit pies.
She’d been more than a little tipsy after lunch with Paul Keller on Wednesday. He’d ordered a bottle of wine and it was such a beautiful day and so pleasant out on the patio they’d lingered over the drinks before ordering food, and somehow a second bottle had arrived. They hadn’t left until the first drops of rain hit the table between them and they looked up to realize they were the only patrons remaining and the waitress was tapping her foot on the sidewalk. Lucky tripped over a loose… something and Paul grabbed her arm to steady her. He continued to hold her arm as they walked to the store and when they came in, laughing, Flower looked at them with a considerable degree of surprise.
Lucky went into her office, shut the door, and promptly fell asleep with her head on her desk.
When she woke, it was dark. Flower had closed the store and locked up and left.
Lucky cringed merely thinking about it. Imagine, a drunken lunch with Paul Keller of all people.
She’d expected him to
ask what she remembered about Brian Nowak. But he hadn’t, and instead they’d talked about things. Life, kids, plans. Nothing much at all, really.
He was back this morning, and when she heard his voice greeting Flower Lucky wanted to hide in the broom closet. Her office door was open, and Flower told him to go right in. Lucky stuck her reading glasses on her nose and grabbed an invoice off the stack in her in-basket and studied it intently.
“Lucky? Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
She acted startled and lowered the glasses so she was peering at him over the rims. “Chief Keller,” she said. “What brings you here? I am rather snowed under this morning.” She indicated the papers on her desk. “Is it important?”
He didn’t take the hint and stepped into the office. “Business, I’m afraid.” He twisted his hat in his hands.
“Business…” she prompted.
“We have enough of an identification on those bones Molly found in Koola Park to reopen the Brian Nowak case. John Winters will, of course, be handling it, but I thought… well, as I was the investigating detective at the time, I’d give him a hand. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Me? I know nothing. I barely knew the fellow.”
“But you did know him? And his wife?”
“Their daughter was friends with Moonlight.”
“You were at his house the morning he disappeared?”
“Parked outside. I didn’t go in, and I didn’t see him.”
Paul shifted his weight. “I’m sure you’d like a break. How about we discuss this over a cup of coffee?”
He wanted to interview a witness in a coffee shop?
Seemed most irregular. But Lucky was, as always, curious. She took her glasses off and put the invoice down. “I guess I can spare a few minutes.”
Big Eddie’s Coffee Emporium was almost full. Paul lined up for their drinks while Lucky searched for a table. Espresso machines bubbled and gurgled and emitted clouds of steam. The cooks balanced hot breakfast sandwiches and shouted out names. Jolene served pastries as her body moved to the beat of music coming from the speakers. Eddie stood behind the cash register, ringing up sales and taking money. With no regard to the line-up almost out the door, he stopped for a moment to chat with anyone he knew.
Paul searched the crowd, located Lucky waving at him, balanced a plate of scones, speckled with blueberries, drizzled with white chocolate, a mug of coffee and one of tea, and joined her.
“I enjoyed our lunch the other day, Lucky,” he said.
“I did too. It was nice to have an indulgence in the middle of the day.”
She knew from Moonlight that police officers liked to sit with their backs to the wall, and just to be ornery she’d taken that seat. Facing the door, she saw the chief’s assistant, Barb Kowalski, come in with Constable Dawn Solway. The two women’s heads almost spun completely around when they saw who their boss was with. They exchanged a glance, ordered their coffee, and left quickly.
“How’s Karen?” Lucky asked.
“Who?”
“Karen. Your wife?”
“Oh, her. Uh, she’s fine. Just fine, I guess. Busy with her activities. I don’t see her much at all, you know how it gets. She’s gone to Calgary.” He swallowed a mouthful of coffee too fast and struggled to keep it from choking him.
Lucky nibbled on a piece of scone and wondered what had come over the chief lately.
“Anyway,” he said, once he could speak again. “About Brian Nowak.”
The coffee shop was full, but with all the noise and bustle there was little chance they’d be overheard. A group of young mothers pushing monster strollers came in with Bev Price, who managed the Trafalgar Women’s Support Centre. They snagged the table for six close to Lucky and Paul. Bev came over to say hi.
“You still haven’t gotten back to me, Mr. Keller, about having the community officer give a talk to my new mothers on child safety.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll look into it soon as I get back to the office.”
“Lucky, give me a call later will you, dear. I have an idea for a new program on nutrition for infants and toddlers and I’d like you to run it.”
“You know that’s one of my interests,” Lucky said. “I’d be happy to.”
Bev returned to her group and Lucky turned to Paul with a smile. “Sorry.”
“You do know everyone in this town, don’t you?”
“No, but sometimes it seems that way. Oh, look, there’s Christa.” Lucky waved frantically and the young woman, along with most of the other people in line, looked over.
“Hey, Lucky, how are things?” Christa Thompson came over to their table. Christa was practically Lucky’s third child, but they’d drifted apart lately.
“Monday night I want you to come for dinner. No excuses, Moonlight and Adam are coming and so are you.”
Christa looked as if she were going to make an excuse, but she sighed and said, “sure.” Lucky hoped she would come, but doubted it. Christa and Moonlight had been so close once. All that had changed.
When she looked back at Paul Keller he was smiling at her. A smile so full of affection it startled her. “Lucky,” he said, “I’ve always wanted…”
“Brian Nowak. He was not a happy man.”
“You knew that?”
“I’m not psychic, and I don’t have any special intuition, but sometimes you can tell. We weren’t friends, mind. I saw him at kids’ sports tournaments, parent-teacher nights at the school, that sort of thing. We’d sit together on the sidelines at the soccer field or chat when dropping off or picking up the girls. I don’t recall ever going to dinner at their house, or having them to ours. I didn’t know him well, but it seemed to me he had an aura of sadness around him. He worked at a bank, I think.”
“Insurance.”
“Yes, that’s right. He was a pen pusher at an insurance company. I suspect he hated it. Many people grow up without fulfilling their dreams, but they get on with life. We can’t all be astronauts or ballet dancers.”
“Or chiefs of police.”
She laughed. “Was that your childhood ambition?”
“Can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t want to be a police officer.”
“You’re lucky then. Life turned out as you wanted it.”
“Careerwise yes, but there are other things that sometimes…”
“Then again, what do I know? Maybe Brian Nowak loved being an insurance salesman. All I’m saying is I remember not being all that surprised when he disappeared. I assumed he’d run off without telling his wife and would go on a bender and be back soon enough with a sore head and hopefully not a social disease. When the days turned into weeks and then months, I figured I’d been wrong. He seemed fond of his children, and I’d thought he was a good father. I don’t think he would have willingly abandoned them.”
“We felt pretty much the same. The son, Kyle, came into the station the next morning to say his dad hadn’t been home the night before, but we didn’t pay much attention until a couple of days had passed. Married men go walkabout all the time. But Nowak never returned.”
Lucky sipped her tea.
“What was your impression of his marriage?” Keller asked.
“Hard to tell, isn’t it, what goes on in a marriage? I knew his wife a bit better than him because she volunteered at the youth center a couple of days a week. That was when we had the kitchen and café and the program to teach some of the at-risk youth to work in a restaurant. It was a good program. When we lost the funding, I was so mad, I…”
“Mrs. Nowak?”
“Sorry. I was about to run off, wasn’t I? Marjorie was her name. She was quite stiff-laced, very prim and proper. Colorless, I thought. She dressed in clothes straight out of The Donna Reed Show. Polyester
skirts, twin-sets, flat pumps, tiny pearl earrings.” Lucky waved her arm. Her colorful, flowing cotton blouse swirled around her and silver bracelets jangled. Even fifteen years ago twin-sets and pearls didn’t exactly blend in in Trafalgar. The clothes in the coffee shop overflowed with color and texture. Lucky’s own full skirt was made of hemp, and the hem was cut in a zigzag pattern so it came to her knees in some places, halfway down her calves in others. The women wore everything from trendy yoga wear to tie-died T-shirts to loose-fitting camouflage pants. The young men were in shorts and one fellow with dreadlocks almost to his waist wore a sarong slung around bony hips. At the end of summer every color found in nature, and a few that were not, was on display.
“Essentially, Paul, I found her boring. After Brian disappeared, she pretty much withdrew from the world. I tried to involve her more in the goings on at the youth center, but instead she stopped coming all together. I don’t think I’ve seen her now for a year or more. If I thought about her at all, which I haven’t, I would have assumed she’d moved away. Moonlight told me she’s still here, still living in the same house.” Lucky broke off another piece of scone and thought.
“I could be sprouting garbage. Appearances can be deceiving. Gosh, I remember that time new people moved in not far from us. Being neighborly, I went over to introduce myself. They were such nice people, a couple about our age, with grown children, like us. We got together for the occasional beer on the deck and then they invited us, Andy and me, over for the evening. Heavens! I thought that meant dinner, but they opened the door dressed in nothing but a few strips of leather weighted down with chains and zippers and handcuffs. I’d brought an apple pie and Andy had a bottle of wine.”
Paul burst out laughing. “What did you do?”
“I shoved the pie into her hands and said we had a prior engagement. Sorry. Andy just about crashed the car into a tree at the end of their driveway in his haste to get away. They seemed like such a… normal… couple. They had two grandchildren.”
