by Alice Walsh
“February 11, the day before Jade disappeared.”
Detective Sampson, who up until this time was silently taking notes, spoke up. “I believe Jade’s death was an accident,” he said. “I don’t think you meant to kill her.”
Lauren knew a trap when she saw one. “Patrick already said he had nothing to do with Jade’s death,” she cut in. Turning to Patrick, she said, “You don’t have to say anything.”
“It’s okay.” Patrick looked the detective straight in the eye. “No, sir,” he said, “I did not kill my friend Jade Roberts. She was alive when I left the cabin that evening.”
“Ms. Roberts told Mrs. Comeau that she was on the run from an abusive boyfriend,” Detective Sampson said. “Do you know who Ms. Roberts was running from, Mr. Shaw?”
“No, sir, I don’t.”
The questions went on relentlessly with the detectives trying to bait Patrick—who, to his credit, answered every question without hesitation.
After two hours, Lauren and Patrick left the station together. The police didn’t have enough evidence to charge him. “You have no idea at all who Jade was running from?” Lauren asked him in the parking lot. “Was she seeing someone?”
Patrick shook his head. “As far as I know, Jade hasn’t dated since she broke up with Cara’s father.”
“Could she be back with him?”
“I doubt it,” Patrick said. “Last I heard, Willy had another girlfriend.”
Lauren frowned. “Why would Jade say she was being abused? Why would she make up a story like that?”
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked as though he was about to say something, but at that moment his phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, walking away from Lauren. “Annabelle?” he said into the phone. “Things went really well, actually.” He glanced toward Lauren. “Look, I’m with someone right now. This evening…sure…what time should I come by?”
Lauren raised an eyebrow. Annabelle Chandler. They were getting really cozy, those two. Again, she recalled the conversation she’d overheard at Kiddy Academy. Someone was giving Patrick money. A thought struck her: Had Patrick kidnapped Cara? Is that how he got the money for his fancy car—from Annabelle and Frances? And did the couple have anything to do with Jade’s death? Lauren felt disloyal thinking such thoughts. Annabelle was sweet and gentle, Frances an ex-RCMP officer who’d always been on the right side of the law. Still, there were things about Dinah Marie’s adoption that didn’t add up. She would go to Deep River tomorrow, she decided. She couldn’t put it off any longer.
Chapter 33
As Lauren took the exit to Deep River, she felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Annabelle and Frances. She should’ve been more direct, asked outright if they had Jade’s baby. She hoped her excuse about just happening to be in the area wouldn’t seem too transparent. Jade was murdered, she reminded herself. Jade is dead, and Cara is missing.
She found the address easily enough. It was nearly two when she pulled into the driveway. The house was made of logs and surrounded by tall evergreens. She parked the car, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell. Annabelle had been the one to take maternity leave, so Lauren hoped she’d be home with the baby while Frances was teaching.
Annabelle answered, looking lovely in a yellow blouse, her blond hair spilling around her shoulders. “Lauren?” she said, obviously taken aback. “I…I didn’t expect you.”
“I meant to call when I got into town, but I misplaced your number. Hope I’m not getting you at a bad time.”
“No,” Annabelle said, but she sounded uncertain.
“I picked up a few things for the baby,” Lauren said, holding out the package.
Annabelle accepting it. “Thanks,” she said, holding open the door. “Come in. It’s good to see you. We don’t get many visitors out this way.”
Lauren removed her shoes in the foyer. Annabelle took her coat and led her into a living area where exposed beams supported a high ceiling. An enormous stone fireplace dominated one wall at the far end of the room. The floor was dark hardwood with woven rugs scattered about.
“Nice place you have here,” Lauren said, looking around.
“Thank you.” Annabelle put the gift on a coffee table. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “I’ll make us some tea.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Lauren took in her surroundings. Elegant sofas and chairs were upholstered in matching shades of gold and brown. A number of paintings by Newfoundland artists hung on the wall, including Just Between Friends by Carla Crawford. It was one of Lauren’s favourites; the little girl holding the teddy bear always made her smile. It looked out of place among the framed diplomas and certificates. There were photographs of Annabelle and Frances: Annabelle receiving her degree, Frances being presented with an award. Oddly, there were no pictures of their baby.
Annabelle returned with the tea and a plate of store-bought cookies.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your father,” Lauren said. “Was it unexpected?”
“Dad was not well for some time, but yes, his death was sudden. I’m in the process now of taking care of his estate and other affairs.” Annabelle picked up the gift, and looked at Lauren. “Shall I?”
“Of course.”
Annabelle tore off the paper and ribbon, exclaiming over the gifts. “Dinah Marie will love this,” she said, holding up the book. “I read to her all the time, and I swear she understands every word.”
“Babies are smarter than we give them credit for.”
“Dinah Marie sure is.”
Lauren took a sip of tea. “You look good, Annabelle.”
“Thanks.” Annabelle flashed a smile. “I love being home with Dinah Marie, but I miss work at times.”
“I know the feeling.”
Annabelle bit into a cookie. “Things were starting to get kind of crazy around the department.”
Lauren looked up at her. “Oh?”
“Mitch and his drinking.” Annabelle shook her head. “He’s a loose cannon.”
“It’s a difficult situation,” Lauren said.
Annabelle nodded. “He had us all walking on eggshells, faculty and students. Sadly, a number of talented students dropped out of the program because of him.”
“You must have known Jade Roberts?” Lauren carefully watched Annabelle’s face for a reaction as she broached the subject.
“I met Jade when Frances and I lived in Paddy’s Arm. Frances had her class come to the house for a potluck at the end of term.” She shook her head. “I could cry whenever I think of what happened to the poor girl.”
“Her baby is still missing.” Again Lauren watched Annabelle carefully.
“I hope she’s okay,” Annabelle said, averting her eyes.
For a moment they sat in silence, sipping their tea, and then Annabelle spoke: “A lot of bad things have been happening. Look at poor Dr. Collins.” She turned to Lauren. “How is he, by the way?”
“Better than expected. He’s out of his coma, and they expect to have him home soon. I went to visit him a few days ago. He slept for most of it. Still, I’m pleased that he’s doing so well. I am hoping to go see him again soon. ”
“That’s great news,” Annabelle said. “I know that his family was quite concerned. They worried that he might have suffered permanent brain damage. Thank God it didn’t turn into a tragedy like poor Ariel Warren.”
“That was so tragic.”
“I feel so sorry for Claire and Dr. Warren. He just adored that baby. Every time I went to his office he had a recent picture of her on his desk. He always had a story to tell about some new skill she’d learned.” Annabel frowned. “He must be devastated.”
“They both are,” said Lauren, feeling defensive. “It’s a double whammy for Claire, being charged with Ariel’s murder.”
A small whimper penetrated the a
ir from a room down the hallway.
“Oh good, Dinah Marie is awake,” Lauren said. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see her before I left.”
Annabelle looked at her watch. “Her naps are usually much longer,” she said, making no attempt to go to the crying infant.
“This may be the only chance I’ll get to see her before you and Frances move away.”
Annabelle had the look of someone who’d walked into quicksand.
The baby’s cries picked up in volume.
“Lauren, there’s something you need to know about Dinah Marie.”
Dear God, was Annabelle going to tell her she was hiding Jade’s baby?
“I feel I should prepare you.”
“Prepare me?” A shaky laugh escaped Lauren’s lips. “What for?”
By now, the baby’s cries had turned into piercing howls. They were not the cries of a baby used to being ignored.
Annabelle scurried down the hallway.
She seems nervous, Lauren thought. Something is not right.
Minutes later, Annabelle returned to the living room carrying a pink bundle.
Lauren stood up. “So I finally get to meet Miss Dinah Marie.”
Annabelle clutched the baby protectively, the pink blanket shrouding her head. “We haven’t let many people see her.”
“Why not?”
Annabelle pulled back the blanket.
Lauren drew in a startled breath. For a second, she was too shocked to say anything. Then she gathered herself and moved swiftly to Annabelle’s side. “Hello, little one,” she whispered, taking the baby’s hand in her own. Poor baby, she thought. Life is not going to be easy for you.
“She has neurofibromatosis,” Annabelle explained softly. “It’s a rare genetic birth defect.”
Like the Elephant Man, Lauren thought, taking in the enormous disfiguring tumours on both sides of the baby’s face. Her forehead bubbled grotesquely, and folds of loose skin hung from her neck. Where her nose should have been was just a small slit. Her eyes, however, were alert and intelligent as she held Lauren in her gaze.
Annabelle held the baby close. “We love her,” she said, “and we can’t bear to have people recoil at the sight of her.”
Lauren nodded, too choked up to speak.
“She’ll need a lot of surgery,” Annabelle continued. “That’s what clinched our decision to move to Arizona. They have better facilities to deal with her condition. With a lot of work, we can have her looking almost normal.”
“She’s a lucky girl to have you and Frances adopt her,” Lauren said. “A very lucky girl.”
Chapter 34
That weekend, the annual end-of-term fair was in full swing when Lauren and Bailey arrived on campus. Newfoundland jigs and reels blared from loudspeakers. They walked past tables laden with everything from used books to fresh fruits and vegetables. Like most people connected with the university, Lauren had donated stuff—books, CDs, toys, furniture. The proceeds would be used to buy sports equipment, musical instruments, computers, and other items for under-funded departments.
Lauren spotted Claire near the Student Union Building. She was sitting on a wooden bench drinking coffee from a paper cup. “Hi, Claire.” She waved, pleased to see her out of the house, especially on a busy Saturday.
“Hi, Auntie Claire,” Bailey called.
Claire waved. “Hi, darling. Are you enjoying the fair?”
“Yup.” Bailey nodded enthusiastically.
“We just got here,” Lauren said. “How are you?”
“I have good days and bad days,” Claire said. “This is one of my better days.”
“Well, I’m happy to see you.” Lauren looked around at the various booths displaying flowers, crafts, preservatives, knitted mittens, socks, and sweaters. Children with painted faces walked beside their parents, clutching balloons, teddy bears, and cotton candy. “Quite the event this has become.”
“I know,” Claire said. “Apparently people have come all the way from St. John’s this year.” She drained her cup and got up from the bench to join them.
They strolled around the campus, stopping at display tables. A booth set up by the Anglican Ladies’ Auxiliary was draped with embroidered pillow cases, lace doilies, and homemade quilts. “This would be a perfect gift for my grandparents’ sixtieth anniversary,” Lauren said, running her hand over the elaborate pattern on a quilt. “Such fine craftsmanship.”
“That herringbone pattern is nice,” the woman behind the table said. “So is this one.” She held up a multicoloured quilt. “Joseph’s Coat of Many Colours.”
“Wow,” Lauren said. “So many hours of labour must have gone into that.”
“Momma, look!” Bailey shouted.
Lauren turned to see Rebecca and Connor approaching. Connor had a helium balloon tied to his wrist and a bumblebee painted on his cheek.
“Well, hello,” Lauren said, not quite meeting Rebecca’s eyes. She recalled their last encounter and wondered if Rebecca felt the same discomfort she did. Lauren turned to Claire. “You’ve met Rebecca Taylor?”
Claire nodded. “I believe the last time we met, you put me in handcuffs,” she said wryly.
Lauren sucked in her breath. As if things weren’t awkward enough, she thought. She glanced at Rebecca, who had her arms crossed over her chest, clearly embarrassed. Lauren tried to think of something to say to ease the tension. Thankfully, just then Elena Petrov strolled up to them, her newborn resting against her chest in a carrier.
“Elena!” Claire exclaimed. “I heard you had your baby. I’ve been meaning to call you.”
The women crowded around Elena, eager to get peek at the newborn.
“Boy?” Lauren asked, noticing the baby’s blue hat.
Rebecca laughed. “The only way you can tell at that age is by their clothing.”
“He’s beautiful,” Lauren said, taking in the baby’s tiny perfect features. He yawned, clenching fists as small as cherry tomatoes. “I remember when Bailey was that age.”
“What did you name him?” Rebecca asked.
“Alexander Nicholas,” Elena said proudly. “Named for his papa.”
“Nicholas must be over the moon,” Lauren said.
“Yes, Nicholas very happy.”
Lauren was about to say something but stopped when she saw that Claire’s eyes had filled with tears. She touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Claire said, dabbing at her eyes, “I’ll be fine.”
Elena looked toward the Student Union Building where a cab had turned in. “My taxi arrive. I must go. Glad I see you all again.”
Claire waved as Elena boarded the cab. After watching it drive off, she turned her attention to Connor. “Enjoying the fair?” she asked, forcing lightness in her voice.
“We’re going to the fish pond to fish for prizes,” Connor said, his eyes wide. “Can Bailey come?” he asked his mother.
Bailey looked eagerly at Lauren. “Can I, Momma?”
Lauren and Rebecca turned toward each other, but neither quite met the other’s gaze.
Lauren shook her head. “I…don’t….”
“We’d love to have Bailey come with us,” Rebecca said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca assured her. “She can keep Connor company.”
“Can I, Momma?” Bailey pleaded.
“Well…I suppose…as long as you behave.” Lauren reached into her jacket pocket, took out a strip of tickets, and handed them to Rebecca. “You’ll need these,” she said.
“Thanks.” Rebecca put the tickets in her shirt pocket and turned to Claire. “It’s been nice seeing you again, Professor Ste Denis,” she said formally.
“You too, Constable Taylor. Take care.”
“Have fun at the pond,” La
uren called as Rebecca walked away, a child on each hand.
Claire stared after them. “A nice lady,” she said.
“Yes,” Lauren agreed. “One of my best students.” She gazed at Claire. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“I’m fine, really. Sometimes I see a baby, and I’m reminded of Ariel. My emotions get the better of me. I hate going to the doctor’s office and seeing all the mothers with their new babies.” Shrugging, Claire picked up the multicoloured quilt and held it out to Lauren. “If I were you, I’d take this one.”
“A good choice, my love,” said the woman behind the table.
Lauren smiled. “You’ve convinced me.”
Clutching her purchase and with Claire at her side, Lauren walked from one end of campus to the other. She bought books, mittens, preserves, and a stuffed toy for Bailey. After a while, they came to a booth that sold educational games and puzzles. Patrick Shaw was talking to one of the salesmen, a pile of items in front of him.
“Hello, Patrick,” Lauren said. “On a buying spree for Kiddy Academy, I see. I didn’t realize that was part of your job description.”
“I don’t have a job description,” Patrick said. “In fact, I don’t have a job, since it’s an internship. These are for my preschool. I just purchased a building in St. John’s. I’ll be ready to open by the end of summer.”
Lauren stared at him. “You’re opening your own school?” She was dying to ask him how he could afford it.
“Your own school so soon after graduation,” Claire said. “Amazing. It takes most people years before they’re in a position to do that.”
“I’ve hired a director,” Patrick said. “She’s going to stay a year, teach me about finances and everything else about running the business.”
“Well, good luck with your endeavour,” Claire said.
“I wish you all the best,” said Lauren. “If you need me, just call.” More than a week had passed since Patrick had been interrogated by the police and he had still not been charged with anything. Lauren knew he was still a person of interest, but unless new information came to light, the police could not indict him.
