Last lullaby

by Alice Walsh

  —

  Forty minutes later, Lauren found herself on a narrow stretch of road heading east when her cellphone rang. Probably the sitter, she thought as she pulled over to the side of the road.

  “Lauren. It’s Daniel.”

  “Daniel? Hello.” Strangely, she felt happy to hear his voice. “I take it you made it home okay?”

  “Safe and sound. How are you, Lauren?”

  “I’m doing well.”

  “And Bailey?”

  “She’s at home right now—with the sitter.”

  “I see Paddy’s Arm is in the news again,” Daniel said. “I read about the young woman who disappeared.”

  “Jade Roberts. She was in my criminology class.” Lauren saw no reason to tell him where she was headed at that moment.

  “She has a baby, I understand.”

  “A little girl. They’re searching for both of them.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “Lauren, I got a call this morning. My friend Phillip passed away in his sleep.”

  “The priest in New Wexford? Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m just glad he didn’t suffer,” Daniel said. “Anyway, I plan to attend the memorial service. They haven’t set a date yet, but I would like to stop in Paddy’s Arm while I’m in Newfoundland.”

  “To see Bailey?” As soon as the words left her lips Lauren felt foolish. Did she think Daniel was coming to visit her?

  “I’m hoping I can spend time with her. Take her out to supper.”

  “That’s fine, Daniel. Give me a call when you arrive.”

  “Sure thing. You take care, now.”

  Lauren stared at the phone a long time before getting back on the road. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was 6:15. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get to the hospital before visiting hours ended.

  The dark days of winter had passed and evenings were becoming longer now. As Lauren drove along the deserted highway, she passed a few clapboard houses that stood on the side of the road. Through the skeletal trees she saw summer homes along the jagged coastline. Some had boats and rafts pulled up on the beach.

  After a while, she came to a sign with an arrow that said Comeau’s Cabins: Daily and Weekly Rentals. She hoped her long drive had not been in vain. Since Madeleine Comeau’s civic address was the same as the cabins, Lauren assumed she lived on the property.

  After driving another mile Lauren arrived at the main house, a ramshackle old building badly in need of paint. The lawn surrounding it needed mowing. A pitchfork and rusty wheelbarrow stood near a shed. She parked the car and walked up to the front door.

  A woman answered, opening the main door and peering from behind a worn screen door. She was short and bulky with fingers like sausage, and leaned heavily on a crutch. Her gray hair, cut in a blunt style, made her large head look square. “Cabins won’t be ready for another three weeks,” she called through the screen.

  “Mrs. Comeau? I’m Lauren LaVallee, an attorney with Beck Hayes. I’ve come to talk to you about Jade Roberts. I know she stayed here a while back.”

  The woman pulled open the screen door. “Come in, my love,” she said. “Watch that step now.” She led Lauren into a sitting room with furniture covered in knitted afghans. A long narrow table covered with a white cloth ran along one wall like an altar. On it were various statues, surrounded by dozens of candles. Above the table hung a crucifix and a picture of Pope John Paul II. “Take a seat,” Mrs. Comeau said, nodding toward a small sofa. She put aside her crutch and eased herself into an overstuffed chair across from Lauren.

  “Mrs. Comeau,” Lauren began, “did you rent Jade Roberts a cabin?”

  “That’s right. Must have been more than a month now.”

  “I thought you said the cabins wouldn’t be ready for another three weeks.”

  “That’s right, my love. My niece is coming from St. John’s to help out. Since poor Charlie died, things have been difficult to manage.” She looked down at her leg. “Not much I can do with this cast on.”

  “That would make things difficult,” Lauren said. She offered a sympathetic smile before continuing. “How did Jade come to stay here?”

  “Poor girl told me she was on the run from an abusive boyfriend. Felt sorry for her, I did. I gave her sheets and blankets. Told her she’d have to fend for herself.”

  Abusive boyfriend. Lauren thought she’d heard distress in Jade’s voice the afternoon she called. “Did she have a baby with her?”

  “A baby?” Mrs. Comeau looked stunned. “No, my love, she never mentioned a baby.”

  “How did she get here?”

  “Someone drove her.”

  “Did you see the car?”

  “Yes, it was black…maybe dark blue.”

  “Did she have other visitors you were aware of?”

  “A car came late that evening.”

  “The same one?”

  “It was too dark to see, but the second car sounded like it needed a muffler. The noise was so bad it woke me up.”

  Lauren sat up straighter in her chair, Patrick’s words echoing in her brain. Better than that heap of tin…the muffler so loud you could hear it for miles. She had always assumed Patrick and Jade were friends. Could they have been more than that?

  Mrs. Comeau stared at Lauren with hooded eyes. “Is the poor girl in some kind of trouble?”

  “She’s been missing for about five weeks now.”

  Mrs. Comeau stared at her in disbelief. “Sweet Virgin Mary, mother of the precious baby Jesus, protect her.”

  “When was the last time you actually saw Jade, Mrs. Comeau?”

  “The morning after she moved in. I seen her walking along the beach.”

  “And when did she check out?”

  Mrs. Comeau shook her head. “Can’t say for certain. Father Williams was here the next day—he comes every Friday to bring me the Sacrament. I asked him to check on the girl, see if she needed anything. He came back minutes later to tell me she’d checked out.”

  “Could she have been out walking?”

  “The vacancy sign was in the window, and she’d left the key in the mailbox like I asked her to do.” Mrs. Comeau shifted in her chair. “She was paid up for the week. I would’ve given her a refund had she asked.”

  “Can I take a look at the cabin where she was staying?”

  Mrs. Comeau gave her a curious look. “Sure, my love. It’s cabin 12.” She rose unsteadily to her feet and reached for a key. “You can leave the key in the mailbox when you’re finished.”

  “I’ll see myself out,” Lauren said as Mrs. Comeau struggled with her crutch.

  Cabin 12 was in a little clearing overlooking the lake. Peaceful, Lauren thought, looking around at the trees. There were still patches of snow in the woods. She could hear the cawing of a crow.

  Despite a sharp odour of dampness and mildew, everything in the cabin was neat and tidy. The main room was a kitchen and sitting room combined. White cupboards flanked a trailer-size fridge and stove. There was a small wooden table with two chairs, and a bathroom, with enough room for a toilet and a shower. A small bedroom ran along the back.

  Lauren opened drawers and looked into cupboards. One was filled with utensils, another with tea towels and dishcloths. Under the sink, she found a small plastic bag filled with garbage. She dumped its contents on a newspaper on the table. There were cigarette packages, candy bar wrappers, crumpled coffee cups. Among the trash, she noticed a blue plastic syringe. Had Jade holed up here to do drugs? Lauren was about to dump everything back in the bag when she noticed the front page of the newspaper underneath; it carried the story of Ariel’s death. The paper was from Friday, February 13, the day after the incident.

  Lauren stared at the headlines. Coincidence, she wondered, or was there more to it?

  She went into the bedr
oom and began opening drawers. In the night stand, she found two pairs of underwear and a nightgown with the tags still on. Jade must have left in a hurry, Lauren thought. Was she afraid the person she claimed was abusing her might find out where was staying?

  Lauren pulled open the door to a small closet. Except for a blanket and a number of empty hangers, it was empty. She was about to close the door when she noticed a bag beneath the blanket. Through the clear plastic she could see hundred-dollar bills. She opened it up, and quickly counted the money. Close to three thousand dollars.

  Lauren scrambled for her cellphone. “I need to speak to Constable Rebecca Taylor.”

  Chapter 31

  There were only a few patients in the waiting room when Rebecca arrived at the clinic. They had questioned the girl at the switchboard, but there was no record of the call Jade had made the day she disappeared. The clinic housed a variety of specialists, including dentists, dermatologists, physiotherapists, pediatricians, and psychologists. Jade could have been calling any one of them.

  “Dr. Kaminsky is waiting for you,” the receptionist told Rebecca. She gestured toward the hallway. “Second door on your left.”

  The office door was slightly ajar, and as Rebecca approached she heard a male voice: “You’re not making things easier for me, Anya.”

  “I’ve tried to be patient,” Anya replied. “Just what do you expect of me?”

  The door opened and Bram Warren looked out. “Hello there, Constable,” he said, looking sheepish. “Can I help you?”

  “I have an appointment with Dr. Kaminsky. Police business.”

  “Come in, Rebecca,” Anya called. She was sitting behind her desk, a stethoscope draped casually around her neck.

  “Sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Rebecca said.

  “I’m finished here,” Bram said, stepping past her.

  Rebecca closed the office door behind her.

  “Please forgive Dr. Warren,” Anya said. “He can be difficult at times.” She shook her head. “We try to ignore his outbursts. He’s lost his only child.”

  “Yes, I can only imagine.”

  Anya folded her hands on her desk and smiled. “How can I help you, Constable Taylor?”

  “I understand Jade Roberts was one of your patients.”

  Anya frowned. “Was?”

  “We don’t know where she is. She disappeared weeks ago and no one’s heard from her.”

  “I see…but how can I help?”

  “Apparently, she called the clinic on February 12, the day she disappeared. We can’t establish which doctor she called, but I’m assuming it was you.”

  “February 12…that’s the day Ariel died.”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “I don’t recall a phone call from Jade, but as you know, things were really chaotic that day.” Anya leaned back in her chair. “Jade could have called while I was out, but she didn’t leave a message. I always get back to my patients.”

  “Had you noticed anything unusual about Jade’s behaviour?”

  “I was concerned about Jade and Cara,” Anya admitted. She spoke carefully, as if weighing her words. “I worried Jade might be neglectful, abusive even. However, I could not see any direct evidence. I gave her my cell number in case she needed to get in touch with me.”

  “You go well beyond the call of duty, Dr. K.”

  The doctor carried a dedicated cellphone so her patients could get in touch with her directly if they were in distress and the clinic was closed. Rebecca had used it once when Connor had a very high fever and she wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Did Jade happen to send you an email before she disappeared?” Rebecca asked.

  “An email?” The doctor looked puzzled.

  “She sent emails to some of her friends and professors,” Rebecca explained.

  Anya shook her head. “No, I have never received an email from Jade Roberts.”

  —

  It was nearly eight by the time Lauren got to the hospital. During the drive back from the lake, she couldn’t keep her mind off the bag of money she’d found. Was this more proof that Jade had sold her baby? If so, why would she leave the money behind? Was she planning to return for it? If that was the case, why would she leave the key in the mailbox when she was paid up for a week? It didn’t make sense. Lauren was almost certain that Patrick was involved. She thought of the phone call at the preschool that afternoon. Who had deposited money in his account?

  The guard outside Andrew’s room asked to see ID before Lauren could enter. They’re really taking his safety seriously, she thought. Andrew was lying in bed, sheets pulled up to his chin, eyes closed. Sitting around his bed were Anya and Gina, who was looking though a photo album. She looked up when Lauren came into the room. “Hi,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

  Anya nodded and smiled. In her pink hoodie and blue jeans, she could pass for a teenager.

  “How is he?” Lauren whispered, walking to the foot of the hospital bed. Andrew was deathly still, his face pale.

  “He’s going to pull through, thank God,” Gina said, her voice wobbling.

  “He will be going home soon,” Anya said.

  Lauren took a seat next to Gina. “Does he remember anything?”

  “The police questioned him,” Gina said. “I don’t think he remembers anything, but that’s not to say his memory won’t return.”

  “Sometimes it takes months—even years,” said Anya.

  Gina closed the album and handed it to Lauren. “Pictures of Andrew when he was growing up,” she said. “My sister Vonnie put it together. She sent it from Brampton for his birthday last week.”

  Lauren opened the cover. On the first page was a picture of a bald, red-faced baby, the kind photographers take in hospitals. Our Andrew at twelve hours old, the caption read. Smiling, Lauren turned the page. There were pictures of baby Andrew with his parents, with various siblings holding him. Turning the pages, she watched a chubby toddler morph into a tall slim boy on his first day of school. “He was adorable,” she said. She turned another page to a photograph of Andrew and three of his siblings. They were sitting on a sofa holding baby rabbits. “Were the rabbits pets?” Lauren asked.

  Gina glanced at the album. “We found a nest of them down by Long Pond,” she said. She pointed to a chubby little girl with a moon face. “That’s me with the weird haircut.” She laughed. “It looks like mom just put a bowl on my head and cut around it.”

  Lauren studied the picture. Although Gina’s hair was now neatly coifed and she had lost most of her chubbiness, she still had the moon face. “Did you keep them?”

  Gina shook her head. “Dad made us take them back.” She chuckled. “Poor Andrew was so upset. I still remember how he cried. He’s always loved animals. Dad used to call him St. Francis of the Arm.”

  “He’s especially fond of birds,” said Anya. “Every morning he gets up early and feeds them on his way to work.”

  “That’s something he’s been doing since he was very little,” said Gina. “He’s particularly fond of crows. Mom often managed to get a bag of stale bread for him. But I remember one morning he took the loaf she intended to use for breakfast.” Gina laughed. “She was fit to be tied. With so many mouths to feed, we couldn’t afford to give good food to the birds.”

  Lauren continued to turn pages in the album. There were pictures of Andrew in his Boy Scout uniform; Andrew opening gifts on Christmas morning. In one photograph, he was sitting at a long table with other children playing cards.

  “Andrew liked to gamble,” said Gina.

  “Gamble?” Lauren laughed.

  Gina nodded. “When we were kids, we played poker for marbles—for jellybeans if we had them. But Andrew wanted to play for money. He would gamble away his allowance, the money he got for selling pop bottles or running chores for people.” Gina smiled, remembering. �
�One day Reverend Owen, the minister, came to visit and Andrew challenged him to a game. He took twenty pennies from his pocket and placed them on the table. The reverend was outraged. He called gambling the work of the devil. Mom burned the playing cards after that.”

  “Does he still like to gamble?” Lauren asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Gina said. “He often buys lottery tickets.”

  “He’s joined a poker group,” said Anya. “They call themselves the Gang of Six. Dr. Warren is a member too.”

  Gina looked amused. “Well, I should be going,” she said, rising from her chair. “I promised my family I’d be home early.”

  I should be going too, Lauren thought. She glanced at Andrew, who had barely stirred since she, and turned to the last page in the album. There were pictures of Andrew graduating from high school. In one, he was with a girl in a cap and gown. He had his arm around her waist and they were smiling into the camera. “Is that Emma?” Lauren asked.

  Gina nodded. “They used to be a couple back in the day. We all thought they would marry.” She reached for her bag just as Bram appeared in the doorway. He was wearing scrubs, a mask dangling from his neck. A stethoscope was tucked in his pocket. “Hello, ladies.” He looked around the room. “Where is everyone?”

  “The family was here all afternoon,” Gina said. “They’ve gone home to eat. Some of them will be taking a flight out tonight.”

  “How’s the patient?” Bram asked, approaching Andrew’s bed. He turned to look at Gina. “Has he been sleeping all afternoon?”

  “I’ve been here since one,” said Gina. “He was awake for maybe fifteen minutes during that time.”

  As if on cue, Andrew opened his eyes.

  “How are you, pal?” Bram asked.

  Andrew closed his eyes again.

  “Andrew is lucky to have such a concerned family,” Anya said.

  “Yes, it’s always good to have people around who care about you,” said Bram.