Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island (11 page)

“Yeah,” said Jason.

“Think he should see someone?”

“Like?”

“Maybe Dr. Materoff. Or Dr. Lum.”

“I don't think he'd go.”

“So what do we do?”

“How about a walk? It's a pleasant evening.”

“Just around the garden, then. I've got to take Kyra and Noel over to Barb's.”

“Okay.” Jason took Linda's hand.

•  •  •

In the den, Kyra and Noel had been interviewing Tim about Derek. The friends Tim listed were the same names as those they got from Jason and the Mounties.

With a glance at Kyra and Noel, Alana asked, “Who was his closest friend?” No one commented on the past tense.

“Sam Bristol,” Tim said. “Since way back. Derek sometimes helped out in their greenhouses.”

“You like Sam?” Alana continued.

“Yeah.” Tim cracked his knuckles.

Kyra thought:
Go Nancy Drew
. Someone had to. Kyra was flesh-and-bone tired.

“Where's their place?” Noel took out his laptop.

“Up the road. On Fir. Off Triggerbrook.”

“Derek sounds like a neat guy to have for a big brother,” “Nancy” observed.

“Yeah.”

As laconic as his father? Noel wondered.

Kyra took back some reins. “You and Derek and Shane, the three of you hang out together?”

“Not much, not since Shane started competing. Before that we all played hockey.” Tim stared at the computer, at the abandoned game sticks.

“What about Derek's girlfriend? Cindy?” Alana asked. “You like her?”

Tim shrugged. “I liked his last one better. Bertina. She joked around.”

“Where's she live?” Noel asked.

“On Pidcock Road.” Tim looked at him. “It's not far.”

“What about his friends at school?” Noel checked his computer. “Gaston? Joe?”

“They're okay.”

No enthusiasm, Kyra noted. “No better than okay?”

“They drink a lot of beer, and all.”

“What
all
's that?”

“Oh, they're a couple of dopeheads.”

“A lot of toking?”

“I don't know.”

Seconds of silence till Alana observed, “Cindy seemed keen on Derek today.”

“She usually drapes all over him. Glad Mom put some limits on her visits.”

“We'll call on her tomorrow.” Noel closed his laptop.

Linda, Shane and Jason came in. “We interrupting anything?” Jason asked.

All of them shook their heads.

“Sorry I was rude,” Shane said, eyes cast down. “I got a lot on my mind.”

“I bet you do,” Kyra acknowledged. “Training for an Olympic trial.”

“Please excuse me.” Shane moved toward the stairs. “Goodnight.”

A moment's silence as controlled footsteps ascended.

“Alana,” Linda stated, “you can stay here tonight. You're very welcome. Barb only has two rooms.”

Alana looked at her uncle. “Okay with you?”

Noel looked at Linda, who added, “She can have Derek's room.”

Kyra caught Tim's downward eyecast.

“Yes,” Uncle Noel acquiesced.

“Thank you. And thank you for a lovely dinner.”

In spite of the dyed hair and tight midriff-baring top, nothing wrong with Alana's manners, Kyra thought. Unlike mine if I'm not poured into bed instantly. “If that's okay, maybe we could get along to Barb's.” Please, please, before I sink to the floor right here.

“Tim,” Linda's tone no-nonsense head nurse. “Please make up Derek's bed. The maroon sheets.” A small painful glance passed between her and Tim. She cupped his shoulder. Noel saw, fleetingly, the face of the man he was becoming.

“I'll help you,” Alana said.

Tim reached for the peak of his absent cap. “It's okay.” He left for the stairs.

They were momentarily quiet, held by Tim's footsteps, the squeak of the linen closet door, the opening and closing of Derek's door. The sadness, Tim's pain, Linda's and Jason's, become audible.

Linda broke the silence. “I'll take you to Barb's. It's not far.” She meant both of them, but looked intently at Kyra.

“Our suitcases are in the car,” Noel stated. “We'll drive so it's there in the morning.”

“I'll go with you and walk back. Oh, Barb's not feeding you.” From the freezer Linda took two chocolate croissants and put each in a sandwich bag. “These should hold you till you come back.” To Jason: “You'll be around?”

“Yeah, in the woodlot. Coffee'll be on and the door open.”

“Thanks,” Noel said. “We'll collect you in the morning, Alana.” He gave her a hug.

“Oh! My backpack's in your car.” She went out to get it.

Kyra begged to use the bathroom for a minute.

They got into the car, Linda in front beside Noel. She half turned. “I need to repeat, I'm sorry for Shane's performance. He's usually a charming young man.”

Noel started the engine. “Everyone's allowed a black mood once in a while.”

“He comes into a room and sucks all the energy out. A walking black hole.” She sighed. “Turn right up ahead.”

“Was he so black in Vancouver? In his training?”

“I can't imagine Carl—that's his coach, Carl Certane—that Carl would let him get away with it.”

“Maybe he's just exhausted.”

“No, something's changed.”

“Can you pinpoint when it started?”

“Not really—here to the right.”

Noel turned right. “‘Not really' isn't no.”

“Okay, he took a nasty fall in competition a few months ago. But then he seemed better. And now, much worse.”

“Could he have hurt himself? Something undiagnosed?”

Linda snorted. “Only his pride.”

“No, I mean like hairline fractures.”

“He had a thorough exam. Physically he's fine.”

“Has he fallen before?”

“Not in competition. Well, not since he was twelve. In practice, of course. It happens when you're pushing yourself.” She pointed. “It's over there, other side of the road.”

Noel stopped the car on the verge. Too much talk about Shane, not enough about Derek.

“You can drive right in.”

“Linda, what's your sense of the people around Derek? Who are his friends?”

“The guys on the island? Two of them are at UBC and now they've got summer jobs in Vancouver, so Derek hasn't seen much of them. Sam's the closest right now. He went over to the hospital a couple of times. Sam Bristol.”

Kyra pulled herself forward. “What's your sense of Sam?”

“Good kid. Works with his father, they have greenhouses and supply restaurants and markets on Vancouver Island.”

“Where can we find him?”

“Bristol Greens. Up on Fir Lane, end of Triggerbrook Road.”

“And in Campbell River?”

“Well, Cindy of course.”

“What's your take on her?”

“A pleasant young woman.” She paused for a moment. “She does seem to adore Derek. We may have to get used to her.”

“You looked irked with her this afternoon.”

“Well, she can be a bit much.”

“How about male friends? At the school?”

“He's friendly with Gast Robitaille, and another called Joe. And Mike, I always remember his name, Mike Campbell from Campbell River.”

“What's your sense of them?”

“They seem okay, too. Though why some men shave their heads . . .”

Noel said, “I got the sense from Tim that he doesn't much care for Gast and Joe.”

“I don't think he really knows them.”

“Enough to make him wrinkle his nose.”

“I suspect he's a bit jealous. Of the time they spend with Derek. Derek and Timmy always were close. Eldest and youngest.”

“So recently Tim hung out less with Derek?” Kyra offered.

Linda nodded. “I had the sense Gast and Joe treated Timmy like a little kid. Which I suppose someone at twenty might think of a fifteen year old.”

“Tim called them the dopeheads,” Noel stated.

“As in pot? Or harder stuff?”

“Pot, I think he meant.”

“And Mike Campbell from Campbell River?

“The kind of young man any mother would be proud of. He's in the heavy equipment course with Derek. But he's not around this summer either.”

“Thanks, Linda. Anything else, Kyra?”

“No.” Just get me a bed.

Noel turned into a gravel driveway, passing a sign, Steller's Jay B&B. A square two-storey cedar-sided building with a covered porch running the length of the front sat to their right. As they got out, a robust woman wearing jeans, a light-colored shirt and sandals stepped onto the deck.

Linda called, “Hi Barb.” Barb, late fifties, came down the steps.

Introductions. Noel and Kyra grabbed their suitcases and followed Barb into the house, Linda trailing. In the hall, the sky-blue walls peppered with Steller's jays, Kyra said, “Thanks, Barb. Can I get to my room? I'm exhausted.”

“Of course, dear. Follow me” She headed down the stairs, Kyra following.

Noel turned to Linda. “I'll take you back.”

“I'll walk, thanks. Clear my brain.”

“Want a ride into Campbell River in the morning?”

“No, thanks again. I ride with a friend. Ferry price for the car every day, it's become prohibitive.”

“Yeah, we've noticed.”

“And do you know how long you'll be staying?”

Does she think this is a pleasure visit? “Until we learn who beat up Derek, and why. We'll have to leave for a couple of days. But we'll be back.”

“You can stay as long as you want, Barb said. It's a quiet summer. Oh, and I told her we'd cover the expenses but she said no, find out who did this to Derek, that's all the payment she wants.”

“That's very kind—”

“She dotes on Derek. And he adores her. His honorary Aunt Barb.” She started to leave, then turned back. “Please find out who hurt him so.” She looked squarely at Noel, tears welling.

Noel nodded. Which Linda didn't see as she strode out the door.

He took his suitcase and descended the stairs. Barb came out of one room and pointed across the hall. “You're in here.”

•  •  •

Alana Franklin turned on the light and closed the door. She glanced about. Derek's bed, twin sized—one of a pair? did Tim or Shane have the other?—had been made up. The window faced the ocean, pretty in the fading blue light. Beneath the window stood racked weights, 20 pounds, 10 and 5. Derek a bodybuilder, or was this for exercise? Beside the window, a desk, bare except for a computer and printer. She could email Sonia, find out what she was up to. And Jerry. When she'd arrived at her grandparents' Alana missed Jerry. But after a few days it was okay without him—back home he seemed to be around like all the time.

Shane. What a gorgeous hunk. If she got him alone she'd open him up, easy making guys relax. Jerry was uptight when she met him, now it'd be better if he retightened some. Shane's sponsor's Austin Osborne, cool! She remembered Sonia talking about Osborne, one of the greats, on the Olympic team maybe three times? Pairs. Who'd he skated with? Alana couldn't remember.

She opened her backpack and took out her night T-shirt. How were Kyra and Noel working on this case? She knew about detectives, she'd seen movies, but in movies things got rough. Were her uncle and Kyra up to violence? They both seemed too gentle. Somebody'd been pretty ungentle with Derek.

Could she be of help? She'd wanted to meet Shane Cooper to make Sonia jealous. Now if Sonia asked what was he like, all Alana could say is mopey. Like, not real exciting.

Across from the bed, bookshelves and closet. What did Derek read? Auto racing. Hockey. Coastal boating. House building, hunting, sky-diving, football. Yep, some kind of jock. Closet? You can learn a lot about people from their closets. She slid open the door. Flannel shirts, some dress shirts, three red hockey shirts with a yellow 23 on the back, corduroy pants, flannel pants, jeans, couple of jackets, one leather and a red team jacket—Campbell River Cougars. Shoes: runners with cleats, without, red and black highsiders. Black dress shoes. Hanging from hooks by their tied-together laces, two pairs of black hockey skates.

She backed out and pulled open the chest drawer. Sweatshirts, T-shirts, socks—

Tap-a-tap. Alana jumped back and squeaked “Eeeh—”

Linda's voice: “Alana?”

She pushed the drawer closed, slid the door to. Her breath was coming fast. She opened the door. “Hi.”

“Would you like something warm to drink?”

“Thank you, but I'm fine.”

“Is there anything you need?”

“Okay to use Derek's computer? I'd like to write a couple of my friends.” She hoped Linda hadn't noticed her iPhone.

“Of course. I hope it's working. The RCMP took it looking for leads for finding whoever had beaten Derek.”

“Did they learn anything from it?”

Linda shook her head. “If they did, they haven't told us. Shall I turn it on?”

“I can, thank you.”

“Well, good night.”

“Night. And thanks for letting me use Derek's room. It's nice.”

Linda smiled. “Yes it is.” She closed the door.

Alana checked the door handle. No way to lock it. What were the Mounties looking for on Derek's computer? Maybe she could find something. Something to help Uncle Noel—she had to stop thinking of him as Uncle Noel—and Kyra. She turned on the computer. It came to life very slowly—must be at least four years old. She took off her rings except the little pinky ring Jerry had given her—not because it was from Jerry, just it was difficult to get off. After a minute the screen finally brought up the wallpaper, a hockey arena, a game going, lots of people in the galleries—looked like the arena in Campbell River. More minutes till the icons came on. God, this was boring. What should she check out? His music? His pictures? His documents? She tapped on My Pictures. She tapped on Last Year: Finals. She opened the door and looked out. Dark and silent. She closed the door. Try the top drawer. Official looking papers—school grades, he'd done okay in high school, Bs and B+s mostly; a birth certificate; a passport—where would Derek go? Play hockey in the States somewhere? Photos, half a dozen of a very pretty young woman with long brown hair and a sweet smile; ten or so of Shane, skating, professionally taken—god, the man was beautiful, elegant bum and gorgeous legs and a mouth that sure looked good; a couple of his parents at a party.