Holly looked at him. “Was anyone staying in the yurts last night?”
“Not that I saw. I was around earlier on afternoon rounds. Folks on my street feel protective about our park,” Paul said. “Sure, sometimes a few teenagers sneak in. We don’t keep them locked. Young lovers and all that, but it’s a dumb way to save a few bucks. You can get banned from the whole system if you don’t have your reservation slip on the post.”
Holly wondered if the dawn would ever come. There was no way that in the dark anything was going to come to fruition. They’d been gone a bit long. Maddie might be feeling uncomfortable, even with the dog. A stiff wind was rising off the ocean, though they were sheltered by a greenbelt. Temperate rainforest. Hardly any snow in winter except on the ridges, but cool summers rarely over twenty-five degrees Celsius.
When she had been in her teens, solitary camping had suited Holly. Head out up one of the logging roads on her bike with her German shepherd and stay for the weekend. Her Coastal Salish mother had approved. Her father had worried himself sick until she returned for Sunday dinner.
By the time they re-entered the cabin, from the distance came the familiar Doppler sounds of the ambulance. “About friggin’ time,” Holly muttered to herself.
As Paul let them in, Bucky gave an obligatory woof. Maddie opened her eyes and sat up. Holly said, “Sorry about all these delays. It shouldn’t be long now.”
Maddie shook her curls. “I’m fine, really. This is silly to get so many people involved when they’re needed someplace else.”
Holly folded her arms to reinforce the protocol. “They’d have my badge if I didn’t take the precaution. They might want x-rays on your sore throat. You told me that you blacked out for a minute. That could be a sign of a mild concussion.”
Maddie moved her jaw back and forth and felt a couple of teeth. “Nothing’s loose. And I’d know if I’d hit my head.”
Holly used Paul’s phone to call the Sooke detachment to give them the update. Bucky had ambled over to Maddie on the sofa and was nosing her leg, his big bleary eyes sympathetic. The girl stroked his broad head. He almost grinned, demonstrating the loss of one canine tooth. Holly doubted if Paul had the income for dental care for himself or the dog. “He’s a good old boy,” the girl said, with a bit more cheer. “I miss my pup Finny in Timmins.”
“You are a long way from home,” Holly remarked. “I know what that can be like, having been in The Pas on my first assignment. Similar weather to Northern Ontario. I bet you snowmobiled.”
“I had my own little red Bravo,” Maddie said. “It rode like the wind.”
Holly went out with Paul to direct the ambulance, pulling up in front of the green reflective metal house address. Every rural property had to have a standardized sign with glowing letters. Many people had such artistic, custom-carved signs that they were hard for fire and emergency personnel to see.
“I’ve taken a statement, and arranged for her clothes to be collected,” she said to the two men who pulled up and got out with their kit. A minute of description of the assault clued them in. “I’ve told her that she’ll have to get checked here and at the hospital, too. Right now she’s coherent and calm, considering what she’s been through. Her throat’s pretty sore, though.” Taking their stretcher, they made their way to the cabin.
An unmarked car pulled up behind the ambulance and one of the West Shore inspectors got out. Holly had met Russell Crew at a mandatory seminar on stun guns. She filled him in on what she had done and learned. He wore a leather bomber jacket over slacks and a sweater. Holly imagined that he wasn’t thrilled to be pulled out of bed this early.
Crew lit up a cigarette and blew three concentric rings, admiring them. “We’re no strangers to sexual assaults in town. But here? Go figure. Guy must be a real nut.”
She nodded. “Likes the fresh air. Let’s hope it’s the one and only. Crime should stay in the city where it belongs.”
“Hey, why should life in La La Land be any different for you lucky dogs?” He stubbed out the cigarette, flipped it into the wet ditch, and headed for the cabin. “Stick around. We may need you. I’ve only got one man. It didn’t seem like much of a priority until I got the details from Sooke. I’ll introduce myself, have a look-see, and catch up with our vic at the hospital after they check her over here.”
Dawn was arriving on
cue, though it seemed like an eternity. Holly sat in the park’s picnic area, which overlooked the ocean. Scarcely two years ago, after the typhoon, hundreds of volunteers had helped the park system heal. Stumps and sawdust were the only traces, along with new picnic tables to replace those crushed by a monster Sitka spruce.
In the distance she saw a familiar butt of driftwood. “Ganesh,” shaped more like an elephant seal than an elephant. Her Sikh constable Chipper (Chirakumar) Knox Singh had shown her pictures of the colourful Indian gods and goddesses. Pantheist though she was, it seemed a much more romantic and imaginative religion than gory crucifixions and thorny crowns. “Law enforcement could use Kali’s six arms,” he had joked, along with the fearful goddess’s “take no prisoners” attitude.
A normal morning at the Fossil Bay detachment meant monitoring traffic along the fifty kilometres to the tiny fishing village and timber depository of Port Renfrew. Beyond that, petty theft from hikers’ cars led the list, followed by an occasional domestic assault and house breaking. Of the several hundred residences in the areas, some were only summer cottages. Drunk driving came next, along with the occasional pot farm bust back in the hills. Recently meth labs had joined the party. With few places to gather, teenagers without cars rarely got up to mischief.
Holly had taken her first command post in Fossil Bay only a few months ago. Seven years had passed since her training at the Depot in Winnipeg. Then came The Pas in Manitoba and a short time as a replacement in Port McNeil at the north end of Vancouver Island. E Division in British Columbia made up one-third of the nation’s RCMP total, over 9,500 employees. In the Island District, which included a mainland chunk north of the Sunshine Coast, were about twenty detachments, the number in flux because of an effort to eliminate the old-style one-person posts.
Equal opportunity had come a long way since the first woman graduated over thirty years ago, receiving a pillbox hat, a skirt, and a purse. But with the bad international publicity following the stun-gun death of a man at the Vancouver Airport and more than a few brutality reports during arrests and custody, the escutcheon of the fabled red-serge force was tarnishing. Many citizens were calling for a return to the British Columbia Provincial Police, phased out in the fifties. Large provinces like Ontario and Quebec had their own forces.
Law enforcement had not been Holly’s first choice. Even when she was ten, the beaches and forests of the island were her schools and cathedrals. She had enrolled at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, following her dream of a degree in biology. Her goal was to be a ranger in the wilderness, protecting the land she loved.
Then, before she graduated, her mother Bonnie had disappeared. Full-blooded Coastal Salish, from the Cowichan band north of Victoria, Bonnie had met Norman Martin at the University of Toronto when they were young and idealistic. She had passed the bar exam at Osgoode Hall and begun her career in a small law firm in Victoria. Before long she found a true calling in helping abused First Nations women, especially in isolated communities, find resources to heal and get jobs. Heading out of Campbell River for Gold River and remote Tahsis on the west coast near Nootka Island one fall, she had disappeared. No trace of her elderly Bronco had been found. As frustrated as she was heartbroken, Holly transferred into the school of justice, completed her degree, and joined the RCMP.
Giving her a welcome
roo
, Shogun leaped from the car and was clipped onto a long, retractable leash. Sometimes an unofficial dog helped ease the tensions.
Inspector Crew came walking up, holding a paper bag. “Her clothes. The EMTs gave her an okay to ride back with me to the hospital and free up the ambulance for another call. My constable will take the girl’s car. She’s packing up now. If you can give her a hand, I’d appreciate it. A woman’s touch and all that. We need to get cracking in about ten minutes, so don’t waste words. As for your report, send it in tomorrow. We’ll use it to flesh out the basics.”
At least he knew Maddie’s name now. Despite his condescending attitude, Holly took her minor assignment in stride. Boots on the ground counted. “Sure. I’ll check on her.”
“I don’t have time to make the rounds, and some people aren’t even up yet. That weird little Reid took me over to the yurg, whatever it’s called. Nothing smacks me in the eye, not that I expected it at a scene like this. People have been in and out all summer. So you cover the campground and see if anyone saw or heard anything. Shouldn’t take that long with so few around.” His attitude read:
And I have other things to do
.
“Understood. Thank you, sir.” She snapped a brisk salute for the practice. “Just one thing more.”
His beaky frown had pushed up the annoyance factor, and he looked pointedly at his watch. “What’s that?”
“Should we be contacting the media and making an announcement? Warning women not to camp alone?”
He gave a snort of contempt. “What? You want to start a panic over what could be a prank or an isolated incident? Are you crazy or just inexperienced?
Women
.” After giving Shogun an odd look, he turned abruptly and left.
When Holly arrived at the site a few hundred feet away, the tent was already down, the poles and pegs arranged, and Maddie was rolling up the bundle. Holly helped her stuff in the ground sheet. Unleashed for the moment, Shogun roamed the perimeter.
“I always hated this part,” Holly said. “The tent comes out of the bag, but refuses to go back in. It defies the laws of science.”
“Thanks,” Maddie said. She wore a sweatshirt, shorts, and a plastic poncho, likely all she had left to put on.
“The inspector said to give you a hand.” She spoke with as little prejudice as possible. The title deserved respect, even if the man didn’t. “He’s … in a bit of a hurry to get back to the city.”
“Me too. If I’d thought this would take so long, I might not have reported it. My study schedule’s going to take a hit.”
Holly’s mouth made an O. “You can’t mean that about keeping quiet. What about someone else running into this guy?”
“I guess. It seemed so weird that I can’t imagine it happening again. It’s really deserted around here.”
Holly gestured around the campground. “Just those two groups? That’s all there were? The gate isn’t open yet, so no one has left.”
“There were a few more Friday night, but it started to rain in the morning, so that put people off. It’s not that cold, but who wants to get wet and sit around when you can’t make a fire? It might be different if …”
Healthy colour was returning to the girl’s friendly, heart-shaped face. Once the smile emerged, her flaws faded into the background. Perhaps small Timmins didn’t have a dermabrasion clinic or family money was short. Maddie had learned to live with her condition. Holly gave her credit for resisting the urge to slather on heavy makeup. “Yes? Go on.”
Maddie looked off to sounds of laughter in the distance. Was she thinking about how much cozier it would be to have a partner to share the tent? “If I hadn’t … Oh, nothing. Forget it.”
Surely Maddie wasn’t imagining that she had incited her own attack. Clearly the girl was no flirt. Her old Ford Focus looked empty except for the gear, a camera, pop cans, and a chip bag. On the picnic table was a Coleman lantern. A half-eaten, overripe banana on the table was the one sign of food. With that sore throat, not much would go down easily.
They started loading the car. “Did anything else come to mind after our talk? Any details, no matter how small?”
“One little kid was riding his bike. Making a racket, but you know kids. I had some stuff to read for my English test Monday.” She gave a rueful laugh. “I’ll have to hit the books until midnight, maybe even pull an all-nighter … if I can concentrate.”
“You remind me of myself. A real keener, if they still use that word.”
Maddie tucked away a couple of textbooks and looked around with an involuntary shiver. “I’m not sure that I want to come back here alone again.”
One repercussion of a sexual assault was that the individual grew so timid and wary that life constricted to nothing. That was worse than being too confident and taking chances. Maddie had a tough shell. Or was it merely a façade that masked a shaky self-concept?
“It was so different years ago,” Holly said, watching an ant vie for crumbs below the table. “I grew up around here and camped out year-round. September and even October can be the best months. But the island was a different place then. Half the population.”
Holly’s watch registered that ten minutes had passed. She could imagine the inspector walking toward them with an annoyed look.
Shogun was nosing near the banana, and Holly clipped him back on his leash.
Brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, Maddie asked, “Do you think that you’ll catch him? How many cases like this have you had?”
“Frankly, it’s my first. This kind of an attack is rare.” She wanted to reassure Maddie, but without being unrealistic. “As for catching him, the odds aren’t great. I’m being honest with you.”
A trace of irony crept into Maddie’s young voice. “Unless it happens again. Right?”
Holly felt a weight of truth in ugly percentages descend. “I won’t deny that. It’s a cruel irony. You’ve heard the word on television. M.O.
Modus operandi
, or method of operation. And this certainly is one distinctly different method. If I know the inspector, he’ll tell you to keep the details to yourself.”
The last of the gear disappeared, and the girl shut the trunk, wiping her hands as if to put paid to the whole experience. “Don’t worry about me. I know when luck’s on my side. I could just as easily been raped or left for dead.” She looked out towards the ocean as if wishing to walk clear out of the scene.
“You’ll be fine,” Holly said, wondering if she should suggest that the girl see a counsellor. Beyond her jurisdiction, probably. At the hospital there would be somebody tactful and sympathetic. But in a time of cutbacks, maybe not.
Maddie tightened her lips and toed the ground with the top of her moccasin. “And what I said earlier, about being … Forget it. I was just feeling sorry for myself. I’m a jerk sometimes.”
“No problem.”
A stupid cliché, but they came so easily to the lips
. She tried to erase her inanity with a warm smile. Often that helped as much as words.
“Can your dog have this banana? I tried to eat, but …” She fingered her throat. The marks were beginning to fade, even after a few hours.
Holly laughed in spite of herself. “He’ll be your friend for life.”
Freshman year was tough, especially far from home. If Maddie had had the courage to come all that way alone, she had the guts to stay and graduate. The first semester was always the hardest. For all their bravado, teenagers still needed their moms. You never outgrew that.
For one brief moment, always playing with possibilities, she entertained the far-fetched notion that Maddie might have staged her own assault. It wouldn’t be the first time. Men had been lynched on false charges in the old days. But French Beach? Why not on campus? Then again there was lonesome Paul. A bit too quick on the scene? And that Bible underlining. She wished she’d had the time and nerve to page through the other parts. But maybe it was a used copy marked by someone else.
The inspector finally appeared, stopping short of tapping his watch. He clapped his hands together in a let’s-get-going gesture. “If I can have your keys, Ms. Mattoon, we’ll park your car in the hospital lot.” His constable walked behind him several feet in practiced Mandarin deference. The nuances were small but telling in this dance of order and power. She remembered how obnoxious one inspector had been when brought in to investigate a suspicious drowning. With his ego and assumptions, he’d been 100 percent wrong.
When Maddie and Crew had left, Holly got out her notebook and headed for the other two inhabited sites. On occasion she was called out when men hoisted a few too many and got into what Chipper called a pissing contest. Roughing it might be a vacation, but it brought out the worst, even in close families. Tents that wouldn’t co-operate. Meals late. Food raw or burned. Damp sleeping bags. Crying kids. Complaining teenagers. Coming back from a three-day hike to find your car window smashed for the loonies in the cup holder or worse yet, a broken CD player.
What were the odds that this person would hang around, making himself useful by giving the wrong information? What a Machiavellian she was becoming. Yet thinking like a criminal had its advantages. That was how the prey survived the predator, how a deer escaped the cougar’s sharp talons.
Setting her cap, she headed down the park loop. At the first campsite to the right, an older couple in a VW van with a
Support the Right to Arm Bears
bumper sticker smiled at her. “Something wrong, officer? We heard a siren over by Seaside. Then you were over at that campsite with the girl. I hope you didn’t have bad news for her,” the man said, arranging a coffee pot on a grill over the fire. Three bowls held instant oatmeal sprinkled with brown sugar. Wearing a salt-and-pepper beard, camo pants and cap, and an Elton John T-shirt, he resembled an old hippie. During the Vietnam War, the island had been a magnet for draft dodgers. Welcomed by the more liberal country and eventually pardoned by Clinton, now they were in their sixties and seventies. The woman was a Joan Baez double, graceful in stature, with lustrous greying hair with a leather clasp. She wore colourful glass beads, an East-Indian print dress, and clunky Birkenstocks.
“I’m afraid that there’s no easy way to say it. A young girl was assaulted here late last night.”
The woman put a hand to her mouth. “In the park? My Goddess. Was she hurt?”
Holly removed her cap to wipe her forehead. “Not to worry. She fought the assailant and he ran away. It was a very close call.” More than that, she didn’t want to reveal.
Dave and June Larsen, from Duncan up-island, said that they had turned in around nine, and hadn’t heard a thing. “There was a bit of noise with the party down the way.” He pointed to a tent site a few hundred feet farther.