by Alice Walsh
“Apparently, you wouldn’t open the door,” Lauren said. “Walter used the key you gave him to let the paramedics in.”
Claire lowered her eyes. “I don’t recall that.”
“Walter says you were walking around the house clutching Ariel, calling out her name. The paramedics had to pry her from your arms.”
Colour rose in Claire’s cheeks. “I don’t recall that either.”
“You were so distraught Dr. Kaminsky had to sedate you,” Lauren said.
Claire covered her face with her hands. “Dear God, I let someone murder my baby.”
“It’s not your fault,” Lauren protested, her heart aching.
Claire shook her head. “I let Ariel down. The only thing I can do for her now is help bring her killer to justice. And I can only do that by staying alert. I’m not taking any more drugs. I need to be clear-headed.”
Lauren stared at her. “How does Dr. Kaminsky feel about that decision?”
Claire shrugged. “Anya’s away at the moment. Dr. Collins is taking her place.”
Lauren wondered if stopping her medication was the best thing for Claire right now. Although she appeared to be more alert, she was obviously still fragile.
“Bram wants me to go with the insanity defense,” Claire said. “Anya thinks I may have been suffering from postpartum psychosis.”
Lauren nodded. She’d spoken briefly with Anya before she left for Ontario. “It would make a good defense, Claire, but you would have to give up your innocence.”
“Never,” Claire said fiercely. “If I plead guilty, they’ll stop looking for Ariel’s killer.”
“It’s entirely up to you. If you decide to fight this, I’m with you all the way.”
“We will find Ariel’s killer,” Claire said with determination. “We have to. I keep imagining him coming into our house, picturing what he did to her.” She covered her face with her hands. “We have to find out who did this.”
“Yes, we will,” Lauren agreed, sounding much more confident than she felt. “Claire, do you or Bram have enemies? Someone who might want get to you through your baby?”
Claire folded her arms. “Nobody could possibly hate us that much, Lauren.”
“Did any of your students hold a grudge?”
“I’ve had disgruntled students,” Claire admitted. “One even filed a formal complaint with the dean. That was more than a year ago. I believe the issue was resolved.” She shook her head. “You think someone killed Ariel because of resentment they had toward me or Bram?”
“I’m trying to establish motive,” Lauren said. “It’s the lack of motive that’s got me stumped. Were you expecting anyone else that day?”
Claire shook her head. “Just you and Bailey. I don’t get many visitors.”
Lauren briefly touched Claire’s shoulder before rising to her feet. “I’ll come back to see you in a couple of days,” she promised. “Stay strong, Claire. Remember, we’re all rooting for you. I promise I’ll get you out of here.” Claire remained silent as Lauren turned to leave. “I’ve left my contact information with administration,” she said, turning back. “Have them call if you need me.”
When she returned to the reception area, Lauren found Andrew Collins seated in a plastic chair, his black medical bag resting at his feet. He was staring at a small television suspended from the ceiling.
“Hi, Dr. Collins,” Lauren said brightly as she approached him. She liked his quick smile, his gentle manner. He’d grown up in an outport not far from Paddy’s Arm and had the most endearing accent.
He stood to take her hand. “I take it you’re here visiting Claire. How is she?”
“Not too bad,” Lauren said. “Still numb from shock.”
“Shock is a wonderful survival mechanism,” Andrew said. “It can distance the mind from the most horrific trauma.”
“Dr. Collins?” A female guard clutching a clipboard approached Andrew and handed him a form. “You’ll need to fill this out before you can treat the prisoner.”
“Thanks.” Andrew turned to Lauren. “Do you have to go straight home?”
“I have a meeting with a client, but not until one.”
“I should be finished here in about half an hour. Can we meet for coffee? There’s a café just off the highway. Bella’s.”
“I could use a cup of coffee,” Lauren said. “But first I should get my car looked at. There’s a rattle on the passenger side, probably the tire.”
“Billard’s Garage is just down the road.”
“I’ll meet you at the café in half an hour then.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” Andrew picked up his bag and followed the guard.
Lauren watched as he disappeared down the corridor. She didn’t know Andrew well, but he struck her as a pleasant, thoughtful man. She found herself looking forward to having coffee with him.
—
Bella’s was a quaint café with round glass tables and ice-cream-parlour chairs. The waitresses wore pink smocks under white bib aprons. When Andrew arrived, Lauren was already seated at a table studying a menu printed on a plastic placemat. “They have eighteen flavours of coffee,” she informed him.
“Sounds good.” Andrew pulled out a chair. “Get your car looked at?”
“It was the tire. The mechanic patched it up but said I should get it replaced.”
A waitress came to take their order. “Just coffee, black, with cream on the side,” Lauren said.
Andrew smiled at her. “Make mine decaf with double cream.”
“How is your son?” Lauren asked. “I see him all the time at Kiddy Academy.”
“Riley’s a great little guy,” Andrew said, proudly. “His mother and I are going through a difficult divorce right now, but he’s adjusting.”
“Divorce is never easy,” Lauren sympathized.
Andrew traced the scalloped edges of the placemat with his finger. “I have Riley this week while his mother is at a medical conference.”
“Is it the conference in Ontario that Dr. Kaminsky is attending?”
Andrew nodded. “Sylvia’s giving the keynote.”
Andrew’s wife—soon to be ex-wife—was an obstetrician. Lauren had been referred to her during complications in her own pregnancy. She found her to be efficient, if aloof. There were rumours in town that she was making Andrew’s life a living hell. Lauren recalled Claire telling her that Sylvia once came into the clinic yelling and screaming at him in front of a room full of patients.
“I’m fighting for full custody,” Andrew said. “I feel like I’m walking a thin line. I don’t want to make things more traumatic for Riley.”
The waitress brought their coffee, and they talked easily. Andrew was one of nine children. After the fishing industry collapsed, most of his brothers and sisters had left home to find work. “I got a call the other day from my oldest brother, Glenn. He lives in Grande Prairie,” he told her. “He says in twelve years he can retire.” Andrew chuckled. “He made it sound like he’s serving a sentence.”
Lauren smiled. “One thing I’ve learned about Newfoundlanders is that they don’t like to stray far from home.”
“That about sums it up.” His smile faded quickly and he switched to a more serious tone. “Listen,” he said, “Bram called this morning. He says you gave Claire the option of going with the insanity defense.”
“As her lawyer I have to put all options on the table.”
“Anya thinks Claire might have been in a psychotic state at the time.” Andrew spoke carefully, as if weighing his words. “I sensed Bram would like me to write a report favouring this.” He shook his head. “I can’t speak to what Claire’s state of mind was at the time of her baby’s death, but this morning she seemed coherent enough.”
Lauren sighed. “I understand Bram’s concern. He wants to keep Claire out of prison. But s
he’ll never go along with it.”
“I can’t imagine her confessing to a crime she didn’t commit.”
Lauren met Andrew’s gaze. “Claire’s decided to go off her medication.”
“She told me,” Andrew said. “I warned her about going cold turkey.” He shrugged. “It’s her decision. I left a prescription with the prison doctor in case she needs them.”
Lauren shuddered. “I’d need more than sleeping pills if I was in that place.”
“My heart goes out to Claire,” Andrew said sadly.
Lauren leaned toward him. “Andrew, the whole thing is so bizarre.”
“I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumours.” Andrew folded his paper napkin into tiny squares. “In fact, some of Dr. Warren’s patients have come to me with questions. There’s a rumour the baby was killed for the insurance money.”
“Where do they hear such things? There was a small life insurance policy attached to a scholarship fund. The premiums will barely cover funeral expenses.”
Andrew spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I know.”
Lauren added a dollop of cream to her coffee and stirred absently.
“What is it?” Andrew asked, picking up on her unease.
Lauren took a long sip of coffee and weighed her words. “I’m wondering if I’m doing everything right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I keep second-guessing myself.” Lauren frowned. “I mean, this issue with bail. Claire’s been in a cell for almost two days now. I should have been able to convince the judge that she is not a danger to the community. She has no prior arrests or convictions.”
Andrew leaned toward her. “I’ve heard all kinds of stories about Judge Dillard. They say he doesn’t grant bail easily. Look at Rose Carson,” he said, citing a well-known case. “She stayed in remand until her trial, and was found not guilty.”
“I remember that case,” Lauren said. Twenty-eight-year-old Carson was charged with abusing her infant son. During her trial, her lawyer called in medical experts who diagnosed the child as having brittle bones. Sighing, Lauren shook her head. “I’m starting to feel really frustrated. It’s my job to see that Claire is with her family while she awaits trial.”
“If you fight hard enough, the judge may come through,” Andrew assured her. He studied her for a long moment. “Lauren, is there something else troubling you?”
She shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not just bail that’s bothering you, I can tell.”
Lauren wondered how Andrew could sense her uncertainty. She looked him in the eye, and for the first time confessed her biggest fear. “I’m not sure I can help Claire,” she admitted. Absently, she ran a finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “Unless I can find someone with a motive, Claire may go to prison for a very long time.”
Chapter 10
Emma’s daughter, Dylan, was standing in the window when Lauren pulled her car into Mae Buckle’s driveway. Bailey waved excitedly and Dylan waved back. A moment later, Dylan disappeared from the window and came to stand in the doorway.
Lauren patted her daughter’s knee. “Now, you be good for Mae and don’t give her any trouble. It’s kind of her to let you stay at her house while Momma is working.”
“Where are you going, Momma?”
“Dylan’s mom and I have to go talk to some people.”
Lauren got out of the car and helped Bailey out of her car seat.
Mae had come to stand in the doorway behind Dylan. “There’s our darling now,” she said. “Dylan’s been waiting for you, Bailey.” She turned to Lauren. “Come on in, my love.”
Lauren followed Mae into the kitchen. Dylan grabbed Bailey’s arm, and they ran toward the living room.
Both Mae and Lauren smiled as they watched the girls.
“Thanks for offering to watch Bailey, Mae.”
“No problem a’tall, my love. Sure, I’m only too glad to do it. And Dylan enjoys Bailey’s company.” Mae pulled a chair from around the kitchen table. “Emma told me you’re going to canvass Claire’s neighbourhood this afternoon.”
“The police have already gone through the area conducting interviews,” Lauren said. “Still, we’re hoping someone might have seen something out of the ordinary that day.”
“Sure, you never knows,” Mae said.
Lauren nodded. “Emma told me you took a job at the Bay Wop Inn. How do you like working there?”
“Oh, my dear, I loves it. ’Tis only part-time, mind you. But it’s the first job I had since I was a young girl working at Dunne’s Boarding House.”
Lauren smiled. “I’m glad it’s working out.”
“The money comes in handy too,” Mae continued. “Jim had to give up fishing because of his back.” She shook her head. “Not that there’s much fish on the go.”
“Nan,” Dylan called. “Where did you put my new CD?”
“Excuse me, Lauren, my dear,” Mae said. “Emma’s in the basement looking for old photo albums. She’ll be with you shortly.”
After Mae disappeared into the living room, Lauren looked around the spacious kitchen. She loved these old outport kitchens, where family and friends gathered. There was an old-fashioned wood range and beside it, a large wood box. The walls were covered with photographs of Mae’s children and grandchildren. Emma had eight brothers and sisters. Some lived in the area but, like Andrew’s family, most of them had moved away after the fishing industry collapsed.
Jim and Mae were hardworking and unpretentious, Lauren thought as she studied the photographs. She knew the family well enough to know that they didn’t engage in the games or power struggles her own family had always been so preoccupied with. Lauren saw none of the veiled hostility she had lived with most of her life. How ironic that her father gave relationship advice, yet had no idea how to create harmony in his own family. Despite his fancy degrees, Siggy, as they called him, didn’t have Mae’s wisdom or know-how. She felt a pang now recalling her mother’s resentment and seething anger. Lauren had come to realize how much control her father had had over all of them. How much he’d damaged their lives. What she resented most was Siggy’s attitude when she’d called to announce she was pregnant. He’d shown no emotion at the news of his first grandchild. The first words out of this mouth were, “Do you know who the father is?” When Lauren got off the phone, she had been in tears. She didn’t dare tell her father about her law license being suspended.
“Lauren?”
Emma’s voice startled Lauren back to the present.
“I didn’t hear your car drive up,” Emma said. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“I just arrived, actually.”
“Well,” Emma said, “we should get a move on.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
They walked to the car in silence. Lauren caught sight of Bailey and Dylan in the window and waved. Once in the car, Emma turned to Lauren. “I heard you and Andrew had coffee at Bella’s a couple of days ago”
“Really? Can’t anyone do anything in this town without everyone knowing about it? We met for coffee. End of story.”
“Ah…now that’s not what I heard,” Emma teased.
Lauren started the engine. “What exactly did you hear?”
“That you and Andrew were all cozy like you were on a date.”
Lauren laughed. “That’s stretching it.”
Emma looked critical. “But seriously, don’t you think Andrew’s nice?”
“Of course.”
“But not nice enough to date?”
“You’re matchmaking again,” Lauren chided as she backed the car out of the driveway. “Andrew’s going through a messy divorce. He has a child and, from what I hear, a very disgruntled wife. This is no time for us to get involved.”
“You need to focus on guys who are available,
” Emma said.
“I don’t need any complicated relationships right now.”
“Who says it has to be complicated?” Emma chuckled. “Not that I should be the one giving relationship advice.”
Lauren shook her head, recalling Emma’s last two disastrous relationships. A couple of years ago she’d dated a financial advisor who had cheated his clients and was now facing fraud charges. He had even tried to swindle Emma. After that, she’d had a brief relationship with Levi Stratton, an artist ten years younger than her; he ended up leaving her for an older woman, a divorcee with a sixteen-year-old daughter.
“Do you know who Levi’s dating now?” Emma asked as if reading Lauren’s thoughts.
“I didn’t realize he was still around.”
“I ran into him at one of our student productions. He’s dating Hilda Wilson, Dr. Wilson’s widow.”
“Go on!” Lauren said. “Hilda must be at least sixty.”
Emma laughed. “And here I was worried he would leave me for a younger woman.”
Lauren turned the car onto Sumac Lane and stopped in front of a Tudor-style home down the road from Claire and Bram’s. “Maybe we could start here.”
As they got out of the car, Lauren was struck by how secluded Bram and Claire’s house was. Only a few neighbours had a full view of it.
They walked down a long driveway and rang the doorbell. “I’m Lauren LaVallee from the law firm of Beck Hayes,” Lauren told the grim-faced man who opened the door. “And this is Emma Buckle. I’m representing Claire Ste Denis, and we’re investigating her daughter’s death. Did you see anything out of the ordinary that—”
“We already told the police we were grocery shopping,” the man said curtly.
“Just checking,” Lauren said. “If you think of anything—” She was about to hand him her card when he closed the door.
“People from away,” Emma said, shaking her head.
“Hey, I’m from away,” Lauren said, laughing. She had to admit, though, that Newfoundlanders were a different breed entirely.
