My Sister's Keeper (3 page)

I looked at her and grinned as I backed out of the parking spot. “Won’t it, just?”

I drove slowly, checking in the rear-view mirror to see if anyone was following us. At one point a white van was keeping two car lengths behind our truck. I started to get worried but it made a right turn at the next set of lights. I sped up the last stretch of highway into Manotick. Cheri’s house was at the other end of town near the river. Homes there were expensive and far apart, with large lawns and lots of trees and shrubs—older homes that took more than a week to put up.

We were pulling into Cheri’s driveway when she said, “I miss Evan but if I try to get him away from Jimmy, I don’t know what Jimmy will do. At least his energy is focused on hurting me and not Evan. He’s always been a good dad.”

“It might not be Jimmy trying to hurt you.”

“I know you hope so. I really want you to find that someone else is behind this. But in my heart, I believe it’s Jimmy. He has lots of reasons to want me gone from his life for good.”

“Now why would you say that?” Cheri had faults, but Jimmy had known about them before he married her.

“We were fighting . . . a lot. He was tired of me working all the time. I can’t tell you how many times he said I was neglecting Evan. We fought over money, too. He said I was putting us into debt, as if my jewellery and clothes were the problem.”

Cheri never had been good at finding fault with herself. I could understand Jimmy’s frustration. Yet, he had married her, warts and all.

“You said that you thought he was fooling around on you. Who do you think he’s been seeing?”

“Somebody at work, but I don’t know who. It took me a long time to believe he would do such a thing.”

Did you forget that he was engaged to me when he had a go at you?
I managed to keep the thought from leaving my mouth.

“If Jimmy
is
behind all of this, I’m going to find out and make him pay. You can count on it,” I promised. “Can you open the garage door? I want to hide Dad’s truck so Jimmy doesn’t find out I’m here yet.”

*********

Cheri and I ate a cheese and mushroom pizza that she had in her freezer. Then we got ready for bed. I decided to sleep on the couch in the living room. I wanted to be able to move around during the night to keep watch. The couch was angled, so I could see the front door and the hallway leading to Cheri’s bedroom. She was still in the guest bedroom. She’d sleep there until she got a new mattress for the master bedroom. The raccoon’s blood had permanently stained the old one.

I waited until Cheri was safely in bed with the light off before I pulled out the folder of emails from her office. The first was a warning. It was dated June 10, two months ago.

If you say anything to anybody, Evan will disappear.

The emails got more and more disturbing. The last two must have destroyed Cheri.

Have you thought about killing yourself?

Maybe you should.

Evan will be better off when you are gone.

I counted a total of sixteen emails over eight weeks—sixteen nasty pieces of mail to make my sister go crazy. Combined with the late-night phone calls, they’d been a powerful weapon. When the first email arrived, Jimmy had already moved out and Cheri was depressed and hurting. Soon after the emails and phone calls started, she couldn’t even cope with looking after Evan. That’s when she took her stress leave from work.

The person behind this harassment was a sadist in my books. They were also a coward. Jimmy had been a lot of things when I knew him. He was never cruel or a coward. Could somebody really change that much in five years? Had the mean streak always been part of him?

I reached over to turn out the table lamp and snuggled under the blanket. I could never remember being this tired before. My mind had been working overtime since I got Dad’s phone call. I’d been running on adrenaline.

I started to drift off. Right about now, the bar band would be starting up in the Dude Bar. The night’s action would be just getting under way. I wondered if my bar regulars missed me in Kermit, Texas. I sure didn’t miss them.

I listened for unusual noises outside the house. All was quiet except the wind rattling the windows. I let myself relax. I’d get a good night’s sleep and recharge. I was going to need my body firing on all its engines if I was going to have a chance of unmasking the real Jimmy Wilson.

The retired cop in me was looking forward to the challenge.

S
aturday morning started off warm and sunny. Clouds and rain would be rolling in late afternoon, according to the weather channel. I drove Cheri to Dad’s around ten.

“I phoned Dad before we left the house. He’s invited us for supper,” Cheri said as she opened the car door. “He plans to make ribs with his special sauce.”

“I’ll try to make it,” I said. “If I don’t, save me some.”

Cheri stepped out and leaned into the car. Her hands rested on the roof and door. She was wearing a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and a baseball cap. With her hair tied back in a ponytail, she looked way younger than thirty.

“It feels good to have someone believe me. You have no idea.”

“I think I do.”

“Be careful, Annie.”

“You too.”

I’d planned to follow Jimmy to work when I woke up. Then I remembered that he worked different shifts. Cheri had phoned the station to find out his schedule for me. Sure enough, he was on night shift and would be sleeping now. His mother Bonnie took care of Evan when Cheri and Jimmy both worked. Cheri said that it was easy for Jimmy now since they’d moved into Bonnie’s house. I’d swing by later in the afternoon.

Gavin Long was first up on my list this morning: former biker gang member and father of drug-dealing son Joey, now doing serious time. I’d looked Gavin’s address up on the internet before leaving Cheri’s. I’d also found news articles from the trial. It would be about a half-hour drive to the east end of the city. What better way to start the day than by spending time with this fine, upstanding citizen who’d threatened revenge on my sister?

*********

The man who opened the door to the two-storey Cape Cod home was not what I expected. For starters, the tattoos, chains, and leather that gang
members favoured were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was wearing a white cotton shirt and khaki pants, and his grey hair was cut short. He was also leaning on crutches, his foot in a cast. He looked me up and down with calculating black eyes.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, smiling. “I’m writing an article about parents who have kids in jail, possibly for crimes they did not commit. Your son’s name came up in my search.”

“How did you find my address?”

“Canada 411.”

He stared at me, weighing my words to sniff out if I was lying. Finally, he laughed and opened the door wider. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, sweetheart? I’m having a hard time standing since I broke my foot two weeks ago.”

He led me into a back sun room and we each sat down in a rattan chair. The room was hot, a ceiling fan bringing little relief. He moved his left knee so that it was almost touching mine.

“How did you hurt your foot?” I asked.

“Running from a pretty woman. I wouldn’t run from you though,” he said.

“That’s because your foot’s in a cast.” I took out a notebook and pen.

He laughed. “You’re one tall, cool drink of water. What is it you want to know for your article?”

“How did you feel when your son Joey was found guilty of drug trafficking?”

He scowled and I saw the thug lurking below the surface. “How do you think I felt? I was angry. The lawyer should have gotten him off, because my boy was innocent. Make sure you print that.”

I wrote his statement down and nodded as if he’d said something important. “Who was the lawyer defending him?”

“Some dumb blonde. I forget her name now. It was some kind of bimbo name.”

Cheri, maybe?
“Wow, she sounds bad. What’s happened to her career since?”

Gavin’s hand landed on my knee. “Why do you even care about her? The real story is that my son is doing time and he’s innocent. Justice was not done.”

It wasn’t wise to keep pushing, but I made one last attempt. “I just think I could make her pay for doing such a bad job defending your son.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. She’s already dead to me. I’ve hired a new lawyer to get my son out on appeal.”

Dead to you?
What did that mean? I didn’t dare ask anything more about Cheri. He’d get suspicious, and I’d be watching my back for the rest of my life.

“Did you want to say anything else about the trial or the legal system?”

He showed me his teeth in what passed for a smile. “Nothing you could print.”

“Well, thank you so much for your comments. I’ll be sure to send a copy of my article to you if they print it.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s the name of the paper? You never said.”

“I freelance. I write articles and submit them to every paper going. One of them usually takes it, but not always.”

I watched his hand start moving up my leg toward my thigh. I resisted the urge to kick him. Instead, I stood in one quick motion and smoothed down my shirt.

“I’m sorry to take up so much of your time,” I said. “I have someone waiting for me in my car. They’re probably baking in the heat by now. Thank you again. I’ll see myself out.”

“You know where I live,” he called as I hurried for the door. “Come see me anytime you’re out this way. We could do some partying.”

“Sounds good,” I yelled back to him. “Thanks again.”

I walked as fast as I could to the truck, which I’d parked out of sight around the corner. Gavin Long might be harassing Cheri, but he honestly seemed to have forgotten her name. Even though I couldn’t cross him off the list of suspects, he wasn’t as high up as he had been. However, if being a creep got you arrested, he’d be sitting in a cell doing life with no chance of parole.

I
stopped off at Whispers Pub in Westboro, in Ottawa’s trendy west end. I found an empty table on the patio in the shade of an umbrella. The lunch hour was over and people at a few tables were paying their bills. The waitress came over after they left. I ordered tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich and a beer. Then I sat back and people-watched.

I could hardly believe my eyes when ten minutes later I looked over and saw Ryan Hunter standing at the entrance to the patio. I knew he lived up the street but never thought I would run into him. The last time I’d seen Ryan, he was lying in a hospital bed with a bullet in his leg and another in his chest. He walked with a cane now. It had been five years since we’d been partners. He’d aged a lifetime since then. It made me want to punch something. Fear of facing him kept me in my seat with my head down.

The waitress returned with my beer and food. I sipped from my glass just as Ryan slid into the seat across from me. He leaned his cane against the wall and grinned.

“The one and only Annie Sweet. When did you get back into town?”

“Yesterday. It’s good to see you, Ryan. Been a long time.” I waved at the waitress. “Another beer for my friend.”

“You quit the force,” he said. He sat back and looked at me.

“Yeah.” Quitting wasn’t something I liked to talk about.

“You never were one for talking about yourself,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. The waitress set a beer in front of him. Ryan raised it in my direction. “To old partners.”

I clinked his glass with mine. “To old partners.” We both took a long drink.

“How’ve you been?” I asked.

“Good, believe it or not. I had to quit the force —you know, after the shooting—but there
is
life outside it. I got a part-time job at a local youth centre. I’m also working on an English degree.” His eyes were steady on mine.

“No way.”

“It was something I always wanted to do. I’m majoring in British poetry.”

“You amaze me, Hunter. You really do.”

“What have you been up to, Sweet?”

“Nothing so grand. I’ve worked all around the U.S. Seems every town is crying for another waitress.” I shrugged. “Not much else worth speaking about.”

“I wanted to see you after I got out of the hospital. Your dad told me you’d left town. Said you were on the move. He’s a crusty one, by the way.”

“He is that.” I took a bite of my sandwich.

“Anna, what happened?”

I looked at him, or tried to. I swallowed before speaking. “You know what happened. You pulled the kid’s attention away from me over to you. You took two bullets because I didn’t act fast enough.”

“But you shot him and saved my life.”

“I was nearly too late. He almost killed you while I hesitated. The stupid thing was that I didn’t shoot at first because he was a kid. I let my feelings get in the way. He would have shot me—and you—dead without batting an eye.”

“The boy was out of control before we got there. You tried to talk him down. He might just as easily have put down the gun.”

“But he didn’t. The internal review finished me. I couldn’t face you afterward. I had to get away and do something mindless.”

“They found that you weren’t at fault.”

“I know what they found.”
And I’m done talking about it.

I went back to eating. We chatted about how much the city had changed, people we knew and places I’d lived. Ryan finished his beer. He set the empty glass on the table.

“Well, I’m meeting a friend inside the pub.” He stood and looked down at me. “I hope to see you again before you leave the city.”

“I’d like that.”

I stood and he reached for me. We hugged each other hard. “Don’t keep running, Sweet,” he whispered into my ear. “Forgive yourself. You’re a good cop and should get back in the game.”

A
t two o’clock, I parked the truck across from Bonnie Wilson’s house on Royal Avenue. I picked a spot behind a blue Mazda a few houses down. I still had a good view of her front door and was out of sight. I tried to make myself comfortable. It would be a couple of hours before Jimmy left for his five o’clock shift.