Last lullaby

by Alice Walsh

  “You must have heard about the shooting at the medical clinic.”

  Lauren nodded.

  “Patrick was there last night. He cut his hand and thought he needed stitches. He found Dr. Collins lying on the floor. He panicked and ran.”

  “Has he been charged?”

  Josephine bent to pick up the toddler, who was starting to fuss. “They’re saying at this point, he’s a person of interest.”

  Lauren put a reassuring hand on her arm. “You did the right thing, calling me.”

  Noah started to cry, twisting in his mother’s arms. “It’s past his naptime,” Josephine said, trying to soothe him.

  “Take Noah home,” Lauren suggested. “I’ll take care of things.” She took papers from her briefcase and handed them to Josephine. “I’ll need you or Patrick to sign this representation agreement and get it back to me,” she said. It wasn’t the usual way she did business, but Patrick needed her counsel now. She would worry about the paperwork later.

  “Thanks.” Josephine put the papers in Noah’s diaper bag. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Patrick was being held in a small windowless room in the bowels of the station. A rough wooden table and a few straight-backed chairs were the only furniture. Two officers, a male and a female, were perched at either end of the table. Heads turned when Lauren opened the door.

  “Your counsel is here,” the male officer said, not bothering to disguise the mockery in his voice.

  “Hi, Patrick,” Lauren said. She took a seat across from him, and placed her briefcase on the table. “I’ll be representing you today.”

  “Thanks,” Patrick mumbled, looking sheepish.

  “I’m Detective Grant,” the female officer said. “And this,” she gestured across the table, “is Detective Wilson.”

  “Lauren LaVallee, Beck Hayes,” she said as she opened her briefcase and took out a pen and notepad. “Shall we get started?”

  Detective Wilson scanned the report in front of him before turning to Patrick, asking him to state his full name, birthdate, and other identifying information.

  “What were you doing at the clinic last evening?” Wilson followed-up, signalling an end to the simple questions.

  “I cut myself.” Patrick held up a bandaged hand.

  “Was this before or after you went to the clinic?”

  Patrick looked confused.

  Realizing where the detective was going with this, Lauren turned to Patrick. “You went to the clinic to have your wound treated, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes,” Patrick replied.

  “And you found Dr. Collins lying on the floor?” Detective Wilson said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you fled the building, doing nothing to help.”

  Patrick stared at him. “I thought he was dead…and I…panicked.”

  Detective Wilson raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought the person who killed—hurt Dr. Collins might still be in the building.”

  The officer narrowed his eyes. “Did you see anyone?”

  Patrick looked down at this bandaged hand. “A woman was coming around the corner of the building when I parked the car. Must have come from the back entrance.”

  Lauren’s head shot up.

  Both detectives were looking at Patrick with interest.

  “What did she look like, this woman?” Wilson asked.

  “I only saw her from behind. She was wearing a long red coat.”

  “What colour was her hair?”

  “I…I didn’t really notice.”

  “Was she driving a car?”

  “I don’t know. I mean…I didn’t see one.”

  Lauren knew the clinic had parking lots at both ends of the building. It would be logical for whoever shot Andrew to leave through the back doors.

  “There was no one around when you went into the clinic—no nurse or receptionist?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No one.”

  “It’s odd the clinic wasn’t locked after the patients and staff had left,” Lauren said.

  Detective Wilson nodded in agreement.

  “The door was open,” Patrick said. “The clinic was empty. I sat a few minutes and waited. After a while, I walked down the hallway. That’s when I saw Dr. Collins. The cabinet in his office smashed, glass everywhere.”

  Detective Wilson eyed him suspiciously. “What did you do then?”

  “I got the hell out of there.”

  “You didn’t bother to call the police. Not even after you left the clinic?”

  Patrick shook his head.

  “I can’t hear you,” the detective barked.

  “I didn’t call anyone,” Patrick said. “Like I told you, I thought the doctor was dead. I drove around a while longer, drove past the clinic twice. The second time I drove by, I saw a van with Bartlett’s Cleaners on the side. I figured they’d call for help, so I went home.”

  “Did you shoot Dr. Collins?”

  Patrick recoiled. “No!”

  “You have a history of drug use, don’t you, Mr. Shaw? In fact, you were arrested twice for possession and trafficking.”

  Lauren sat up straighter in her chair and looked hard at Patrick. This was the first time she’d heard of a drug arrest. Had the director at Kiddy Academy known this when she allowed him to work there? Didn’t they do background checks? When she’d enrolled Bailey, she’d trusted they would screen their staff. She didn’t like the idea of a convicted drug offender working with her child.

  “I’ve only sold to friends,” Patrick said.

  “Mr. Shaw’s prior drug use is not an issue at this time,” Lauren said, the lawyer in her kicking in. Still, she continued to stare at Patrick. He’d also been at Claire’s house the day Ariel was killed. Had he gone inside? Was he intending to rob the place to get money to buy drugs? Enough, she told herself. You’re a lawyer. You deal with facts, not speculation. But she couldn’t shake her uneasy feelings about Patrick Shaw.

  Chapter 22

  Lauren had arranged to meet Daniel at three o’clock at Newfie B’ys. It was now six minutes past, and the butterflies in her stomach were multiplying. Twice she’d gone to the window to look out. Why am I putting myself through this all over again?

  A few minutes later, Daniel strolled into the café. Dressed casually in blue jeans and a red V-neck sweater, he looked even more attractive than Lauren remembered. Still taut and trim. He looked around the restaurant, his face lighting up in a smile when he spotted her.

  Lauren felt her heart speed up as he approached her table. “It’s good to see you, Lauren.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before taking a seat across from her. “You look wonderful, by the way. How have you been?”

  “Busy. My practice is growing, and I’m teaching a course at the university this semester.” Lauren became aware of her leg bouncing under the table.

  “Well, you look great.” Daniel smiled. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Water.”

  He got up from the table and returned a few minutes later with coffee for himself and a bottle of Perrier for Lauren. “Do you need a glass?”

  “No, this is fine.” Lauren twisted the lid.

  The first few minutes were filled with idle chitchat about Lauren’s job, Daniel’s trip, and the Newfoundland weather. “Well,” Daniel said, “I’m glad I found you, finally.” He smiled. “I thought you’d disappeared forever.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I turned on the television one day and there you were.”

  “I see…. Well then, you must know about what happened with Claire.”

  Daniel stared into his coffee cup. “Yes, I was very surprised. How is she?”

  “As well as can be expected, considering….”

  “I’m very sorry,” Daniel said.
<
br />   Lauren picked at the label on her water bottle. “To add to Claire’s anguish, the press is harassing her.” She sighed. “And harassing me. Stephen Coleman, a local reporter, ratted me out in an article. Claire’s case has become high-profile, and I guess he figured I was fair game. He dug up information on Nelson vs. Little, and wrote an article about how I handled the case.”

  Daniel frowned. “I know that wasn’t easy for you. But I also thought you were much too hard on yourself. You made a mistake, but you were able to move on. I wish this Coleman guy, whoever he is, would write about something else.” Daniel fixed his eyes on her a moment before he spoke again. “I dropped by your office last week. You were with a client.”

  “That was you? Why didn’t you leave a message?”

  “I would have waited, but the receptionist—Paula, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Paula’s our receptionist.”

  “Paula said you had to pick up your daughter from school.” He gave her a searching look.

  Lauren took a breath. “It’s been more than four years since we broke up, Daniel.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “Yes, I have a daughter. I wasn’t the one who took a vow of chastity.”

  A smile played around Daniel’s mouth, but his eyes were sad. “That’s exactly what I told myself. But Paula said Bailey would turn four at the end of August.” His eyes locked on hers. “I did some quick calculations.”

  Lauren stared at him, her eyes wide. “You think—”

  Daniel held up his hand. “Lauren, I went to Bailey’s school. I saw her.”

  “You went to her school?” Lauren stood up. “You can’t prove a thing, Daniel.”

  Daniel laid a restraining hand on her arm. “I don’t need to prove anything. That child is mine. I knew it the moment I saw her.”

  Lauren sagged back down into the booth. “What do you want, Daniel?” she asked, her voice weary. “You made it clear there’s no future for us. The only good thing to come from our relationship was Bailey.”

  Daniel looked down at his hands. A few moments passed before he spoke. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  “What would be the point?”

  A flash of pain crossed Daniel’s face. “I’m her father. Do you think you’re being fair to Bailey, keeping her from me?”

  Lauren lowered her eyes. She’d lost many a good night’s sleep pondering the same question. She had always justified her decision with the rationalization that Daniel would not want a child in his life. But now he was here, questioning her.

  “Let me take you and Bailey out to dinner tonight.”

  “We’re on a very rigid schedule. Bailey’s usually tired when she gets home. I have to get her clothes ready for school. Usually she’s in bed by seven-thirty.”

  “I’m leaving for Nova Scotia on Friday to visit my sister. I’d like to meet Bailey before I go. How about tomorrow night?”

  Lauren’s hands were trembling, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady them. “Well…I guess tomorrow evening will work. Bailey likes Ma Taters, a restaurant not far from my office. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Thanks, Lauren.” Daniel reached across the table and touched her hand. It was a small gesture, but one that evoked strong memories. She recalled the gentleness of his hands when they made love. Unwanted tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. How could she get over Daniel if he was right in front of her?

  Chapter 23

  As Lauren browsed the racks of dresses and sleepers at Hansel and Gretel’s, she thought of Daniel. The simple explanation she had given Bailey was that Momma’s friend wanted to take them to Ma Taters for dinner. As usual, Bailey was thrilled to eat out.

  “Can I assist you?” a woman asked. Her name tag read Ruby, Store Manager.

  Lauren held up a yellow sleeper with a pattern of panda bears. “I’m looking for a gift for a…umm…she’s probably seven...maybe eight months old,” Lauren said.

  “I’d go with a larger size,” Ruby said. “Kids grow fast at that age.”

  “You’re right,” Lauren said, thinking of Bailey’s growth spurts. “I’ll take it in a size eighteen months.”

  Ruby removed the outfit from its plastic hanger and folded it neatly. “Will there be anything else?”

  “I’ll just take a quick look around,” Lauren told her.

  Ruby nodded. “Take your time.”

  What a wonderful place, Lauren thought, taking in the racks of frilly dresses. Child-size mannequins flaunted spring coats and jackets. A glass case held silver spoons, fancy rattles, and china dishes. She went through an archway into a separate room where the toys and books were kept. There she found games, stuffed animals, dolls, Lego, puppets, and various other toys. Lauren browsed through a shelf of books, settling on Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon. She also found a glass-eyed teddy bear with soft brown fur.

  Back in the main section, she was surprised to see Dr. Kaminsky browsing through a rack of baby dresses. “Hello, Anya.”

  “Lauren, it’s nice to see you, again.” Anya smiled. “I’m looking for a gift for Elena Petrov. Perhaps you know her. Her husband, Nicholas, teaches at the college.”

  “Yes, I’ve met the Petrovs. Elena must be nearing her due date.”

  “Any day now.” Anya held up a couple of little dresses. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  Lauren nodded. “This is a wonderful shop.”

  “I was surprised that such a posh store would come to Paddy’s Arm. I doubt I will find anything as fancy in Alaska.”

  “Not in Savoonga, anyway,” Lauren said, hoping she’d got the name right. She turned to face Anya. “Have you heard anything more about Andrew?”

  “His condition hasn’t changed. He’s still in the induced coma.”

  Lauren frowned. “How long do they usually keep patients in a coma like that?”

  “It can be anywhere from a few days to two weeks, depending on the seriousness of the situation. Rarely do they keep a patient induced for more than two weeks.”

  “I went to the hospital to visit, but only family members were allowed. I’ve been in touch with his sister Gina, but I haven’t been able to reach her lately.”

  “Andrew’s family is very concerned,” Anya said. “His brothers and sisters have all come home to visit.”

  “Can I help you?” the store manager asked. This time the question was directed at Anya.

  “I’m still trying to decide,” Anya said, holding up the dresses.

  “The pink dress is from an exclusive line,” Ruby said proudly. “They came in this week. We’re one of the first stores in Canada to carry it.”

  Anya checked the price tag. “That explains it,” she said, winking at Lauren.

  “Well, I should run,” Lauren said. “Good luck with your shopping, Anya.” Clutching her purchases, she headed to the counter at the front of the store.

  The cashier ran Lauren’s credit card through the electronic scanner, then carefully removed the tags from the sleeper with nail scissors. She expertly folded it into a box, and laid the book and teddy bear on top.

  Lauren peeked at her watch and saw it was nearing three o’clock. She had to stop at the university for some papers before picking Bailey up from school.

  Moments later, she was walking across campus when she spotted Frances Turple in Motorcycle Alley, the area under the fire escape where students parked their bikes. Erika Jansen was standing next to her, both women puffing on cigarettes. The alley was the only place on campus where smoking was allowed. What would Frances think if she knew what I was up to? Lauren wondered. How would she feel if she knew I was scheming to see her baby?

  “Hi,” Lauren said pleasantly, approaching the women.

  “Hi, Professor LaVallee,” Erika greeted.

  Frances looked
up at her and nodded. She was wearing a brown jacket, and with the hood pulled up she looked like a wrinkled monk.

  “It must be hell in winter having to come out here to smoke,” Lauren said.

  “Yes,” Erika agreed, “but I only smoke when I’m stressed.”

  Frances said nothing.

  “How’s Dinah Marie?” Lauren asked.

  “She’s teething. Got two little teeth coming in.”

  Lauren smiled. “She’s what…seven months?”

  Frances blew out a plume of smoke. “Nearly seven months.”

  Lauren did a quick calculation. Jade’s baby would be nearly nine months now. But was Frances telling the truth about the baby’s age? She could be lying to deflect suspicion. “That’s a precious age,” she said.

  Frances flicked an ash off the end of her cigarette. “Dinah Marie is very bright.”

  “You should bring her in to see us before you leave for Arizona,” Erika said.

  Frances smiled tightly, and took a deep drag from her cigarette.

  “I have to ask: have either of you heard from Jade?” Lauren said. “Her mother called me and she’s very concerned.”

  Erika nodded. “Ms. Roberts called me too. She’s coming to Paddy’s Arm in a couple of days.” She turned to Frances. “She may drop by to see you.”

  “You never stop worrying about your children,” Frances said.

  She had two grown children, Lauren remembered. “How are your children?” she asked.

  “Sonya’s doing well. She’s finishing up her Ph.D. at Memorial. Rick, on the other hand…” Frances frowned. “Now he’s a different story. Don’t have sense enough to tie his own shoelaces, that one.”

  Lauren knew all about Frances’s wayward son. He’d been busted for drug possession, and had been in and out of rehab. Lauren wondered how his mother, an ex-RCMP officer, felt about that. Frances had raised her children on her own after her fisherman husband drowned off the Grand Banks.