“Pardon my bad manners. Momma taught me better than this. How about some coffee, officer, miss? I can make a fresh pot.” He blinked an apology, and his fuzzy eyebrows reminded her of a horned owl.
“You must be a mind reader. That would be super. Just a bit of milk. And please call me Holly. If you could give us a few minutes, too, I’d appreciate it. I’m sure you understand.” She flashed her best women-need-to-be-alone smile at him as he left. Was it unfair to pigeonhole him as an eccentric? What else would you call it? This was probably the biggest crowd he’d ever had in the room. Except for a pharmacy calendar, it was devoid of pictures. Impersonal. Generic. A nearby bookcase held a selection of battered Western paperbacks. Louis L’Amour. Maddie was sipping her drink, wincing at each swallow. An aroma of cloves and cinnamon met Holly’s nose. A nozzled plastic bear of honey sat on the side table along with a spoon.
“Can you talk to me now about what happened, or do you need a few more minutes? That tea should help your throat.”
“At first I could hardly talk. I’m ready now. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.” She gave an apologetic smile and glanced at the kitchen. “Sorry, nothing personal.”
“Understandable. I’d like to get you on your way, too, but we have to do things by the book. This is just a preliminary questioning to set the groundwork. You’ve been assaulted. The inspector arriving from our West Shore detachment along with the EMTs will be more thorough. Take it slow. There are no wrong answers.”
“All right.” Her sinking tone implied that she didn’t have much choice.
Holly took a seat at the table nearby and took out her notebook and pen, moving aside a jar of peanut butter and an untouched plate of toast. She was surprised to see a well-thumbed Bible open to the
Song of Solomon
, chapter 1. “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth” was underlined in shaky red ink. Holly knew little of mainstream religious studies, other than the twenty-third psalm, which came in handy in her line of work. She remembered that her mother had called Solomon’s songs very erotic. For a moment, she felt as if she were intruding on Paul’s secret life. But it was just the Bible.
“Go for it, then. I’ll take notes, and read it back to you for accuracy.”
“He just grabbed me, and …”
Holly held up a hand. “Whoa. Start at the very beginning.”
“First let me ask
if you have any reason to believe that someone is stalking you. An old boyfriend? In other words, someone who knew you would be here alone? Or maybe someone you met here who gave you the wrong feeling?”
“Who would … I mean I haven’t got time for that. School just started. I have a part-time job in the café in addition to my studies. Only guy I’ve dated was over for the weekend from Simon Fraser. My roommate fixed me up. Let’s just say that we didn’t make a good match.” Maddie touched a hand to her pitted cheek. A dot of colour appeared.
“Okay. Let’s begin from when you arrived. Give special attention to anyone you saw or talked to.” That should narrow things. Hardly anyone was there. More would have been around in the daytime.
Speaking slowly but gathering confidence as she preceded, Maddie made a capable and intelligent witness. She’d arrived Friday around four o’clock and made camp. The paths she’d walked in the woods, her beachcombing, all the pictures she’d taken were described. The park wasn’t large, only a strip along the ocean bracketed by private land.
“You’re doing well,” Holly said, earning a smile.
“I was on the debate team in high school. We had to be really logical and lay out our arguments point by point.”
When she finished, Holly shuffled back over the notes. “So as for the attack itself, you say that it was dark, and you saw nothing of this man.” Peace and quiet were why city people visited. Putting sodium lights all over the place would give the appearance of camping at Wal-Mart.
Maddie ran a shaky hand through her curls. “I kept my flashlight off at first. No one likes to be wakened in the night. It was nearly eleven, but you know how people go to bed early when they camp. No TV or Internet.”
Experience made Holly nod. “I always hated making my way to the bathroom in the dark. It’s an easy way to get spooked.” A primitive sixth sense made the hairs on the neck stand up. Twenty centuries of evolution hadn’t changed some instincts.
“I couldn’t sleep, and then I had to pee. Typical. But it was creepy. My roommate told me not to come out here alone.” Her full lips, along with her hair one of her best features, compressed into a tight line of self-criticism.
“It’s understandable that you didn’t see him. Let’s try for other senses. You look fairly tall. Would you say he was taller?”
“For sure. I’m five nine. He was coming down over my shoulder from behind. It reminded me of a vampire.” She stood and moved her arms to demonstrate.
“Which might make him six feet at a minimum. Strong?”
“I’ll say. With one hand he was choking me with some kind of wire. With the other he shoved me towards that hut. He was touching me everywhere. Maybe it just seemed like that. I tried to cry out. He was very powerful. In another minute, he …” She stopped and pulled a sofa pillow toward her like a teddy bear.
Holly gave her a short breather and leafed back a few pages, clicking her pen twice in an unconscious effort to think. The sound couldn’t be heard over the snap and crackle of the stove. “This might be hard, but please try. I’m interested in the wire or whatever it was that he used to choke you. Did it go over your head, or come around from the side?” She doubted that they’d find the weapon, but you never knew.
“I can’t tell you that. But suddenly it tightened. So fast I couldn’t even scream. Out of reflex, I guess, I grabbed at my throat to try to loosen it. But forget that.” She looked at her hands with a scowl and sucked on the end of one finger. “Damn. I chipped three nails, one to the quick, and I keep them short.”
“The urge for self-preservation is built into us. Fight or flight. Anything else about the wire, if we can call it that for now?”
She thought for a minute. “It wasn’t sharp, like thin metal. Maybe it was covered in plastic. Like those old laundry lines. My mom still puts her wash out to dry. I miss those sheets. They smelled so nice and fresh from the air.” The sentimental thought hit home, and she brushed at her eyes.
“Since you were in close contact, they’ll want your clothes for analysis. I’m presuming you brought a change. And the techies will take scrapes from your fingernails.” Everyone knew that drill.
“But there’s not blood or anything. I honestly don’t think I scratched or hit him. I just wanted to breathe. I stamped down on his foot.” Her small voice hesitated as she gave more details.
“From the fact that he let go, you hurt him. Luck played a part, but you bought yourself a bit of time, before Paul came along.” Clearly Maddie had been a fighter.
“My brother taught me that move. He’s into karate and taekwondo.”
“You did very well, Maddie. I’m proud of you. In an attack like this, you don’t have much time. Every shot has to count. In one second, things can go either way. You kept your head and didn’t panic.” Holly remembered her RCMP self-defence instructor saying that you had to work
against
your so-called civilized urges. A palm driven up against the nose could come close to killing. Jabbing someone in the eye was effective, but few could stomach the idea. Politeness didn’t cut it if you were battling for your life. Officers had different rules, unless they wanted to be accused of police brutality.
The girl gulped and rubbed her nose. Holly was amazed at her composure. As in wartime, people often held together under the worst pressure, only to fall apart when the struggle was over. So far she was making Holly’s job as easy as possible. “And he took my bracelet, too,” she said, looking at her wrist with a wounded frown. “It was real silver. My gran gave it to me when I graduated from high school. It has a little trumpet. I used to play first in the band.”
Girl trumpet players had to be tough to make it among the boys. And being the lead was impressive. Maybe that fact had helped Maddie fight back. Holly asked, “Do you think that your attacker knew that you were alone? Could he have been observing you during the day?”
“My tent’s way too small for two. But I’ll tell you something.” She gave a sigh of self-criticism. “Next time I pee nearby. Gross or not.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” Smiling herself at that familiar image, she laid a hand on Maddie’s shoulder. “Now getting back to your intruder, and we’re supposing a male, is it possible that he wasn’t alone?”
“I only heard one voice, and he didn’t say much. Just ‘Stop it!’ Like that.” She rubbed at her chin. “Like he was trying to disguise it, making it real deep and growly.”
Mindful of the time, Holly took a few more notes, closed her pad, and then stood. “They’ll bring a paper bag for your clothes. I’m guessing that by the time they’re here, it will be nearly daylight. They’ll take you back to the scene. I’m going to take a look at it now with Paul. Are you all right with being alone for a few minutes?”
Maddie’s hand was shaking slightly as she finished the tea and put down the mug. “Sure.” She tucked her feet under her and closed her eyes. In the heat, she had taken off her hoodie.
Holly noticed her muscular arms. Clearly she was in very good shape. If she’d had the chance to run, she might have avoided the attack. But running blind in the dark was a risk.
Holly called to the kitchen. “I want to go back to the scene now, Paul. The others should be arriving shortly.” Where were those reinforcements? The girl needed to return to normal life as soon as possible.
“Bucky will keep you company. You got no worries with him around. Likes his belly scratched,” he continued without emerging. Clinks and clanks sounded. A spoon perhaps.
Maddie glanced at the oversized hound drooling on his dog bed. “I’ll … be okay.”
“They’ll take you to the General for precautions. Then to West Shore to sign a statement. That’s the closest branch for Major Crimes.”
“
Major
Crimes, but I’m fine. Why do I —”
Holly levelled eyes at her, softening the effect as much as she could. “That’s just terminology to distinguish it from traffic offences and other minor charges. On the outside chance that this guy is going to try this again, we want to make sure we have all the information to stop him. Besides, it’s one of our most important jobs to be sure that you’re checked out by experts. We are responsible, even though you may feel okay. And it should be considered a sexual assault.”
Paul finally returned to present Holly with the coffee, hardly warm, but she had appreciated his leaving them alone. She took a few grateful gulps, raising her mug to him. “That was perfect.” She put it onto the table for later. Cold coffee was a way of life for an officer. Had he been listening to their conversation? What had taken him so long?
“It was lucky you heard her,” Holly said as they made their way back down the path. She still had an unbidden image of him skulking around the campground. He seemed almost too friendly. But he’d been around for years, hadn’t he? Her colleague Ann might know. She’d worked at the detachment before Holly arrived.
Paul yawned, revealing a few gaps in his front teeth. The breath that emerged was no pansy patch. “Couldn’t sleep myself last night. My old mom’s not well, and she lives in Edmonton. Ninety this year. I’ve taken to calling her nearly every night just to make sure. Then I take a walk to calm down. I like routines. When I was a lad, I was in the navy for a stretch.”
“Sorry to hear about your mom,” Holly said. Aging parents were a heavy responsibility. Still, she wished her mother had seen her three score and ten. Bonnie Martin would be forever in her late-forties, frozen in her prime.
“Sound carries in weird ways,” he said. “I go around the inner loop road. Sort of make the rounds. That’s when I heard the struggle.”
“The timing was a miracle,” Holly said. “You just might have stopped a rape. Or worse.”
A few minutes later they reached the campsites as a dim light began breaking at the Victoria end of the strait. The east was beyond several hills and blocked by trees. She wanted to talk to him alone to get his impressions.
“Officer, ma’am,” he said. “I have a funny question.”
“What is it, Paul?” She had no idea what was coming.
“Do you think the person who did this is still here now? Thinking on it hard as I can, I didn’t hear any car or truck leave the campground. And we’re miles from anything.” He covered his nose with his palm and then gave an earth-shaking sneeze. “Sorry. Can’t figure it at all.”
“They are only a few choices. By foot, car, bike, motorcycle. Let’s just say that this is not the usual venue for an assault in the dark.”
“Venue?” He puzzled. “Oh, cop talk.”
Securing the scene with one person or even five was a joke. Anyone could beat it through the surrounding woods. What were they supposed to do, put up roadblocks and stop traffic? People in the boonies “knew” the road and drove like the proverbial bat. Erecting something unexpected was asking for an accident, especially with all the curves and hills. She could imagine one of the hundred timber trucks that passed weekly losing its load and crushing cars.
Maddie had said that she had arrived alone and seen very few people. “But it didn’t bother me,” she had insisted. “Being from the North, this isn’t what I would call wilderness.”
Holly agreed. She’d been posted as a rookie constable to some remote places and missed the wide open spaces, but it was good to touch base with her father again, if only for a few years. Moving around was a fact of life for the RCMP. Less so recently, though, because it was hard to get officers to make that commitment when they could be on staff in a city police department and put down roots.
Finally they reached the yurt. The small round enclosure with a ten-foot radius was empty except for two rough wood bunks for sleeping bags. The usage fee bought a roof over the head and a floor. “I found her lying just inside. The door was open,” Paul said.
“Did you see anyone else? Or hear anything?” Holly asked. The light-coloured yurt would have been more visible.
Paul gave a negative grunt. “Some footsteps in the brush, crunching leaves or twigs. My beam was in her eyes, and she looked like a scared animal. Whimpering and rubbing her throat. Bucky barked, the dumb old mutt, but I made him shut up. Had him on a long rope in case he had a mind to go after a bunny. All I could think of was to get her help. My night vision’s not what it used to be. Geez, Louise, if I could have chased him, don’t you think that …”
“I understand. The point is that you came just in time. We don’t want anyone becoming a hero by endangering their lives. He might have had a weapon.” Holly didn’t want to continue probing. The man felt bad enough as it was. In addition to thick bushes, there were massive trees every twenty feet. Easy enough to duck behind one, then escape in the confusion. Trained though she was, her priority, like Paul’s, would have been to assure that the girl was breathing if not conscious. A question of triage.
Holly nestled the light between her neck and shoulder and made another note. The headlamp by her bed at home for power outages would have been perfect. Then again, when would she be called out again like this?
Paul was standing at the yurt door, flashing his beam into every corner. “Maybe there’s something he dropped.” He made as if to step forward.
Holly took his arm firmly. “No, don’t go in. I’d like everything to stay the same.”
He gave a light laugh, took off his cap and scratched his elfin ear. “Jesus, there’s probably a gazillion prints on the yurt. Everyone who’s stayed there throughout the whole summer. And last year and the year before that. They don’t exactly have maid service. I pick up some of the big chunks with a whisk broom. That’s all she wrote. Big problem is to leave no food around for these mother-sized Norway rats.”
Holly gave it an appraisal. The yurt looked cold and unattractive, plastic and impersonal. “Who would want to stay in one of these?”
The geodesic domes could be rented for twenty dollars a night. People brought their own linen, sleeping bags, and pads. “Old folk. Or younger ones who want more privacy, if you get my drift. Maybe they drove for hours to get here, and then it rains. They don’t want to head right back. To me it’s sort of pretend camping, but I’m old-fashioned.”