Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island (32 page)

At least there was nothing illegal in asking Shane to lose in a competition. At least he didn't think so. At least he was safe on that front. He hoped.

He stared at the photo of Shane on the screen. A beautiful skater. But Shane had betrayed him. No more support from Austin. No hope for Olympic gold.

Austin returned to the deck. The table on the lawn had been cleared. The others sat staring down at the ocean. He said, “I have to agree. The Cabal is dead.”

•  •  •

In the bathroom Kyra sat on the toilet and shut her eyes. What she'd've liked best was not to open them again today. She brought a clean pad and a plastic bag from her purse, wrapped the used one in half a dozen tissues, dropped it in the bag and put that in her purse for later disposal. Then the tears came. At first she tried to sniff them away. No good. They glided down her cheeks, salty at the corners of her lips. Her nose too was running. She felt she didn't have the strength to reach for another tissue, for a whole bundle of tissues, no strength at all.

What the hell was wrong with her? Hormones shouldn't be that big a deal with the fetus gone. Should they? Hormones, that was the trouble. Fuck it, too much of everything. Too much of this case. They should've pushed Osborne harder, over the edge, not let him get away with— With what? What crime had he committed? What had he done they could get him on? What had she done to herself? Why were her innards so screwed up? She hated it all, this lack of control. More control now than if she'd had a baby? Her hand reached for the tissue box. She wiped her eyes and threw the tissue into the wastebasket, and found another, and one more for her nose. She had wanted to have that baby. She was glad the baby had aborted. She would have been a good mother. A mother? You crazy? No. Yes you are. No . . . Another round of tears, and now the front of her head ached.

•  •  •

From the doorway Jason watched Shane in his wheelchair, some heavy conversation between him and Noel. He saw a brown Ford pickup come up the drive. Zeke's all-purpose. It pulled up to the house slowly; often Zeke slammed the brakes on at the last moment. The door opened. No one. At last a foot stepped down, another, and Zeke pulled himself to face Jason by holding on to the top of the door for support. Goddamn, Zeke was in pain! The bandage on his neck told a story, as did the splint across his nose. “What the hell—?” He leapt out of the doorway and caught Zeke around the waist.

Zeke flinched, went silent, then said, “We—gotta talk.”

Jason helped Zeke limp toward the house. Dreadful; Zeke made a point of avoiding physical fights. “You sure you're up to walking?”

“Yeah. But not far.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Hell is what happened.” They stepped through the doorway.

Jason supported Zeke to a kitchen chair and gently sat him down. “Man, you sure you should be walking around?”

“I'm mostly okay. I've got to talk to you. You alone here?”

“Linda's around, the boys too. And the detectives.”

•  •  •

Kyra, coming out of the bathroom, heard them speaking. She stopped to listen.

•  •  •

Zeke squeezed his eyes shut. He breathed out hard.

“You want something to drink? Ice tea?”

He opened his eyes again and smiled. “Bit of Scotch. Bit of ice.”

Jason turned to the cupboard, fridge, came back with two drinks. “You should've called me, I'd've come over. You shouldn't be driving.”

“Gotta talk to Timmy too. He here?”

“Yes. What about Timmy?”

“Can you call him?”

“Sure.” Jason didn't like this—what did Timmy have to do with Zeke? Something about Zeke's son picking up Tim after that van hit him? “But first tell me what happened to you.”

Zeke raised his glass and sipped. “There's a crazy man out there.”

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“Where?”

“The village. At night. I walked past a van I didn't recognize, which should've warned me something wasn't right.” He touched his neck bandage. “Guy came up and hit me with a fuckin' golf club. Four-five times, bashing me. I mean, a golf club?”

“You didn't see him?”

“Too dark. And here's the bizarre thing. He wore a mask like a skull face.”

“What?”

“A Halloween mask. Scary. Except the club was even scarier.”

“How'd you get away? What'd you do?”

Zeke grimaced. “Third or fourth time he hit me I grabbed the club. Don't know where the strength came from. But he had two clubs and he came at me again. I got a good bash at him and then it was like we were dueling with those fuckin' clubs.”

“This is nuts.”

“Tell me about it.” Zeke's grimace grew. Then quickly his lips recoiled in pain. “I pulled my knife and that gave him a chance to get to the van. I tried to grab the door but I couldn't run.” He sipped. “Dragged myself over to Dano's. Had to be the most hurting minutes of my life.”

“You got there.”

“Yeah. Dano called the doctor and he took me to the clinic. The doc checked me out. She didn't think anything was broken except my nose.” He grinned, and winced. “First time since I was eleven. Then Dano drove to the hospital.”

Jason's concern for Zeke kept him from noticing Tim and Alana listening from the door. When Linda came into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Zeke! My god!” he saw that others were around too. Both he and Zeke drained their glasses.

Linda's professional self knelt beside him, examining his neck. “How are you?”

“Just a broken nose. And maybe one rib chipped.”

“The hospital let you out?”

Now Kyra was in the kitchen too.

“They kept me overnight. To be sure there's no concussion. There isn't.”

Tim, Alana behind him, came over to Zeke's side. “Who did it, Zeke?”

“Yeah,” said Zeke. “That's what I wanted to talk with you about.”

“You think I had something to do with this guy?”

“When George picked you up, when that van knocked you down, did you tell him you thought there was something funny about the driver? Something about his face?”

“Yeah! He looked like a clown, a painted face.”

“A mask?”

Tim thought. “Could be. Or just that his face was painted.” He covered his eyes and waited. “I can't see it anymore. But I did say that.”

Kyra said, “Excuse me.” They all turned to her. “When Shane and I were forced off the road, I saw the man's head. It looked weird.”

Jason said, “Weird how?”

“I don't remember. A flash. I was trying to control the car. Just, not a real face.”

“What wasn't a real face?” Shane asked from his chair as he and Noel arrived.

Jason explained. Zeke added, “It's some crazy out there. And he's hurting people close to your dad.”

Noel said, “Did you talk to the Mounties after you were beaten?”

Zeke nodded. “The doc said when someone gets mashed up without being in a bar fight she's got to call it in. I told them what happened.”

“About the mask too?”

“Yeah, but it wasn't till this morning I remembered what Tim had told my George, and I came over here first 'cause I didn't want to tell the Mounties something I didn't get straight.”

“Time to get back to Sam Mervin,” said Noel.

The phone rang. Linda took it. “Hello . . . Oh, hi Cindy . . . He . . . Yes . . . Oh yes! . . . We'll be over soon as we can . . . Thank you! . . .” She turned. They were all staring at her. “Derek. Cindy's with him. He's coming out”—she sniffed—“out of the coma.”

“For real?” Jason was beside her, embraced her.

She spoke to him, and to the others over his shoulder: “They talked, he said, ‘Hi Cynthia,' and she said ‘Hi Derek' and they said a couple more things and then he closed his eyes and she took his arm and he opened his eyes again and she said, ‘Are you here?' and he said, ‘I'm here,' and then he said he was thirsty and she ran for a nurse and when they got back he actually took a sip of water, and then Cindy called here.”

Jason released Linda. “Zeke, you okay to drive home by yourself?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Let's get to the ferry. Noel and Kyra, can you come over too?”

“We're with you,” said Kyra.

As the others scrambled, Shane wheeled himself over to Tim. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I need a favor.”

Tim suddenly distrusted Shane. What kind of favor could he do? “Yeah?”

“Come with me.” Shane wheeled himself into the den.

Tim followed. “What's up?”

“I'm not going to the hospital. Can you stay here with me?”

“What the hell? Derek's coming out of the coma.”

“This is important too.”

“What's as important as getting Derek back?”

“This favor.”

“What the hell is it?”

“Can you drive Derek's truck?”

“Of course I can!” Not having a license didn't mean he couldn't drive. “Why?”

“Tell you in a minute.” Back to the living room. To Jason he said, “I'm going to stay home, Dad.”

“What? With Derek coming back to life?”

“I'm exhausted. Tim said he'll stay with me—in case I need some help. Tell Derek I'll see him tomorrow.”

“He'll be disappointed.”

“He'll have enough of you.”

“Jason, a word again.” Noel drew Jason toward the kitchen.

“What's up?”

“If Derek is coming out of the coma, sooner or later he's going to remember what happened to him. That could be dangerous when whoever beat him finds out. Can you contact your Mountie friend Bryan, tell him about Derek, maybe provide him with protection?”

“Jeeze, I didn't think of that. Yeah, I'll call right away.” He sighed. “I wish things could go back to how they used to be.”

The Honda followed Jason and Linda in their Corolla. Noel said, “Strange Shane and Tim didn't want to go see Derek.”

“Yeah,” said Alana from the back seat. “I don't get it.”

“I wonder how much Derek will remember.”

“If he really is out of the coma,” said Alana.

Kyra said, “We should have asked Linda to call the ward.”

“We can do that if there's time at the ferry line-up.” Alana took the iPhone from her backpack. “Want me to find the number?”

“I'd bet Linda has it memorized,” Noel said with a smile Alana didn't see.

“Oh. Right.” But she punched several buttons.

“Jason's pushing it hard.” Noel accelerated, trying to keep up. The Honda screeched around a curve. Kyra grabbed the chicken handle over her door.

Alana leaned forward. “No rush. There's forty minutes till the five. We'll just be waiting in the line-up.”

Kyra glanced at her watch. “She's right.”

“Maybe Jason knows something we don't.” He kept pace with the Corolla. “Like there's a lot of visitor traffic leaving the island late Sunday afternoon. Like there's always a possibility of an ambulance run and the whole schedule's thrown off. Like there was a convention at that place on Cortes and everybody left at the same time.”

“Huh?” Alana grunted.

“Another island. You have to cross Quadra to get the ferry for Cortes.”

“You do?”

“From Heriot Bay. Trip takes about forty-five minutes.”

“Why would anybody want to have a convention there?”

“It's a beautiful island,” said Noel.

“So is Quadra,” said Alana, pushing more buttons.

Was he hearing island-fatigue in his niece's voice?

Kyra squeezed the handle more tightly and, to distract herself from the speed, said, “Something's wrong with Shane and Tim not coming to the hospital.”

“Shane really looked tired,” said Alana. “Like he said.”

“Right, but I don't see Tim staying home too.”

Noel said, “Didn't want to leave Shane alone?”

“It's not like Shane doesn't know how to be alone.” Alana giggled. “He's good at it.”

Kyra found herself with an increasing affection for Shane. Noel had told her about the conversation, Osborne capable of removing or causing pain. “He's been through a lot, today and in the last months.” Still, odd not wanting to see Derek coming back.

They passed the village shops. As they turned to head downhill to ferry parking a minivan inserted itself between the Corolla and the Honda. One and a half lanes already full. They parked. They'd get on the ferry, but this was more than casual weekend traffic.

Noel opened his door. “I'll get Linda to call Derek's ward.” He walked up to the passenger window.

Linda said, smiling while blinking away tears, “Just did. Derek comes and goes in small stretches but he's come back now four times.”

“Good news,” said Noel. He walked toward the ramp. What might they learn from Derek? Best not to prethink, let whatever happens happen. He stared over Discovery Passage, Campbell River on the other side, the hospital, a solution: Derek names his attacker, Triple I informs Mounties, case closed. If Derek knew the person or persons who'd beaten him, he or they would be worried Derek could identify them. But Jason had called the Mountie, Dorothy Bryan. Had Derek been in danger all this time, without protection? Indefensible. But no one had bothered him. Because Derek couldn't identify his attacker? No. Because the attacker had been masked! No coincidence. All the brothers, and Kyra, and Zeke, attacked by the same person. Austin Osborne? Noel couldn't picture it— “Noel?” Kyra at his side. “You were far away.”

“Trying to work some stuff through.”

“Me too. So I have an idea why Shane stayed home.”

“Yes?”

“He may be going to confront Osborne.”