The Frailty of Flesh (36 page)

“Who else would know about other ways to get on the property without coming on the road? If it wasn’t Shannon it has to be one of her friends.”

Ashlyn’s cell phone rang. “Constable Hart.” She listened for a moment, then said, “Thanks, Sims” and hung up.

“Jody and Dan have an alibi,” she said with wry amusement as she looked at him, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Their supplier called and told them about the police surveillance, and that was just after midnight.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m sure Liam’s thrilled to know we prevented a drug deal.”

“And if we can’t prove Shannon left the Patel house, we can’t prove Nurani did either.”

“Can we get the optimistic version of you back?” Said with a half smile, which soon slipped from her face. Ashlyn’s expression grew serious, her look distant but not vacant. “What time did Smythe and Mrs. Reimer check in last night?”

“Around twelve thirty. I spoke to Smythe by phone a few times…” He glanced at her. “Tracy Reimer?”

“It doesn’t explain Christopher.”

“Unless she’s the one who’s stashed him somewhere.”

“We still can’t prove someone entered the house.”

“We’ll send Luke to explore all other ways onto the property. Unless you want to do it.”

She was still staring at the dashboard. Tain had worked with her long enough to know that she was half listening to him, half working out scenarios in her head. “No, we’ll send Sims.” She looked up then, her eyes clear. “I want to talk to Tracy Reimer.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“I understand this is a very difficult time for you.” Ashlyn set a file folder on the table and sat down across from Byron Smythe and Tracy Reimer. “I’m sorry we have to do this now.”

Tain almost smiled. Her voice was soft and sympathetic; the sentiments sounded genuine. Even he almost believed her.

The woman across the table could only be described as a mess. Unlike the day they’d first met Tracy Reimer, when they’d told her that her son had been murdered, she had clearly been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, her skin blotched with dried tears and her brown hair stuck out in all directions. The tissue in her hands was being shredded meticulously, a pile of white bits growing on the table in front of her, despite the fact that her hands were shaking.

Tain realized then that he’d been around this woman in a lot of stressful moments, but somehow she’d always seemed off, until now. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but her emotions hadn’t seemed to match, as though what was really upsetting her wasn’t the death of her youngest child or her missing daughter. Normally, parents would be calling, anxious for updates about the investigation. Maybe his assessment had more to do with the fact that the Reimers had hidden behind their lawyer, who seemed more interested in protecting the parents than anything else.

He sat beside Ashlyn as she slid a photo from the file folder in front of her. “Do you recognize this gun?”

Tracy gasped and dropped the tissue as her hands flew over her mouth. The wide-eyed look of shock betrayed the truth, although they still needed to hear it.

“Mrs. Reimer?” Ashlyn prodded gently, her voice quiet.

Smythe’s eyes had narrowed, a dark shadow settling into his face. He looked at the photo of the gun instead of his client. “Answer the question.”

Tracy nodded, but didn’t unclamp her hands from her mouth.

After Ashlyn fished another document out of the folder she said, “Your husband had permits to own two handguns.” She slid the paper across the table toward Tracy Reimer. “One of the weapons he had registered is this gun”—Ashlyn tapped the photo—“which we recovered at the crime scene.”

“She already told you she recognized the gun,” Smythe said.

Ashlyn kept her gaze focused on Tracy Reimer. “I need you to tell me where the guns were kept and who had access to them.”

Tracy’s hands dropped from her face as she turned to look at her lawyer. He exhaled and nodded.

“My…” Her face scrunched up like a pug’s, in what Tain suspected was an attempt to keep from crying. “We…” She took a deep breath. “They were in the safe. In…in the den.”

Her hands had gone back to the tissue, shredding it at a frenzied pace.

“And who had access to the safe?”

The tears started then. “My husband. Me. I suppose Shannon knew where the key was, possibly Christopher.” Her voice cracked as she said his name.

Tain saw Ashlyn’s glance before she turned back to their suspect. “Anyone else?”

Mrs. Reimer’s forehead wrinkled, as though she didn’t quite understand the question. “Our lawyer, maybe a few of”—she swallowed—“Richard’s friends knew where he might have the key.”

Ashlyn nodded and put the permits and photo back in the folder. “Thank you. That’s very helpful. Now, I know it’s been a long night, and I know you’re anxious to leave. But it would be very helpful to us if you could walk us through what happened last night.”

“Why? You were there. I left the money, like you said to do, and then we came here.”

“I meant before you went to the park. Go back a few hours earlier. Were you at the house with Richard and Christopher?”

Tracy’s mouth opened as though she was about to answer, but Smythe put his hand over hers. “Don’t answer that.” He looked at Ashlyn. “Where’s this going?”

“I need to get a working time line for last night. Were Richard and Christopher with you? Were you all at the family house? If not, when did they leave? As far as I know, next to the killer, you two are the last people who saw Richard alive.” When they remained silent she continued, “You’ve done enough to hinder the investigation into Jeffrey’s murder. Don’t tell me you’re going to screw us over on this one as well.”

Smythe clenched his teeth, but didn’t protest and removed his hand from his client’s.

“We were at Byron’s house,” Tracy said, “until about eleven
P.M.
Richard and Christopher drove to the house together.”

“Why did they go to the house?”

“To get some things. Clothes.”

“They weren’t planning to stay there?”

Tracy looked at her lawyer again, then shook her head.

“Mrs. Reimer, why would they go there so late at night? Especially when the ransom exchange was going to happen so soon?”

Tracy looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She glanced at her lawyer, who again nodded. “Richard didn’t want to see any of the neighbors.”

“Okay. What vehicle was your husband driving?”

“His Land Rover.”

Ashlyn flipped the folder open again and leafed through the papers and photos. She passed one to Mrs. Reimer. “This vehicle?”

Tracy took the paper and then passed it right back. “Yes. Why?”

“What did you do after they left?”

As Tracy exhaled she slumped down in her chair. “Nothing,” she murmured in a voice so low Tain could hardly hear her.

“You waited for almost an hour and a half, and just did nothing?”

“Is my client under suspicion?” Smythe demanded.

“I’ve already explained—”

“Save it,” Smythe snapped. “Whether my client sat and stared at the wall, ate, drank, slept or paced, it has nothing to do with the murder of her husband and disappearance of her son, and you damn well know it. This interview ends now. Shouldn’t you be out trying to find Shannon and Christopher?”

“Actually, we have found Shannon. She’s here.”

Tracy Reimer’s head snapped up, but she didn’t smile or say anything. She looked dazed, as though someone had just slapped her across the face.

It took Smythe a moment to recover. “Well, that’s wonderful. Her mother wants to see her immediately.”

“We’ll be back shortly,” Ashlyn said as she stood, the folder in her hand.

“No stalling. We want to see her right away. As her lawyer—”

“With all due respect, Mr. Smythe, shut up.” Ashlyn turned, opened the door and walked away.

Once Tain had closed the door to the interview room and caught up to her, he asked, “What now?”

“I need a drink.”

“Isn’t it a bit early?”

“You’re a laugh a minute, Tain,” she said as he followed her into the staff room.

She stopped by the door, at the vending machine, vaguely aware of Tain moving farther into the room. “The news is on. I wonder if they’ve picked up on the murder yet.”

“I’m sure they have,” she said as she moved beside him, just as the story changed.

“In Kelowna, RCMP officers called to the scene of a vicious assault this morning were shocked to discover a colleague had been attacked in his motel room.” The anchor’s image was replaced by live footage of the motel, crime-scene tape fluttering in the breeze as snow fell and an officer entered the room behind the tape. “Constable Craig Nolan of the Coquitlam RCMP detachment was found unconscious when a guest in a neighboring room noticed the door was open.” The image switched to a young man with short brown hair, telling his story about going to the reception area to ask for directions when he noticed the door was open and snow was blowing in.

“I just thought maybe I should close the door, you know, like someone had accidentally left it open but then I saw him lying on the floor and saw the blood, and I didn’t want to touch anything so I called 911 on my cell…”

The man’s voice faded as the anchor reported that Nolan had been taken to the hospital, and a photo of Craig appeared on the screen. “The RCMP has issued a statement, confirming that Nolan was struck on the head. No arrests have been made. RCMP also confirmed that Nolan was in Kelowna on police business but declined to offer more details at this time.”

Ashlyn staggered back toward the door. She’d been pushing down her anger with Craig, her frustration that he hadn’t called. Although she knew she hadn’t had time to actually talk to him that hadn’t been the point.

There were footsteps approaching from the hallway, and she was vaguely aware of Tain’s hand on her arm, murmured reassurances that everything would be okay and Zidani’s voice— distant and muffled, as though her head were underwater and the liquid was distorting the words—telling them to come to his office.

She’d had that moment, when she’d thought something had happened to him, and brushed it off. He’d texted his terse reply to her after that. The assault must have happened later. What had he even gone to Kelowna for? They’d been too busy arguing for her to pay much attention.

“Ashlyn.”

Tain nudged her arm. He had an expectant look on his face, as though he was waiting for her to say something. A glance at Zidani showed he, too, looked like he was anticipating a response from her. Tain spoke before she could apologize.

“When was the last time you heard from Craig?”

“He sent me a short text message last night when I was still in New Westminster before the drop.” It seemed like days ago now, when in reality it was only a matter of hours.

“Did he say anything to suggest he was in trouble?” Zidani asked.

“No. It was just a short message, saying we’d talk later. I never replied. We were busy with the case…”

“That’s fine.” Zidani sat down on his desk. “They’re running some tests, just to be on the safe side, but he wasn’t out for long.”

“Do they have any idea what happened?” Tain asked.

Zidani drew a breath and looked away. The hesitation was enough.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Ashlyn heard her words, and she knew she’d said them, but they still sounded far away, like they’d come from someone else. The calm, the lack of emotion, surprised her.

“We have Donny Lockridge’s parole officer checking on his whereabouts. His family lives in Kelowna.” Zidani’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, as he rubbed their corners. Then he sighed. Aware of her own fatigue, Ashlyn had forgotten that Zidani had also been working all night. “We understand he spoke to Donny’s sister-in-law yesterday afternoon. A short time later, she ended up in the hospital. Constable Bob Williams informed Craig, and he said he spent a few hours with him last night. Williams dropped him off at his motel shortly before he was found.” Zidani handed her a slip of paper. “There’s the number where he can be reached at the hospital.”

Once the paper was in her hand she said, “Thanks,” and turned to leave.

“Tain and Sims can handle things from here. You can cancel your time off?” he asked Tain.

Ashlyn looked at her partner and saw him nod. Time off? He hadn’t said anything.

When she looked at Zidani he was watching her. “Go home,” he said. “Call Craig. Make sure he’s okay, fly to Kelowna, whatever. Take a few days off.”

“Is that what you’d tell Craig to do if I was hurt?”

“It’s what I’d tell anyone here to do if their partner was assaulted. It’s a family emergency.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it. Craig was hurt on the job. Maybe if he was a teacher or a mechanic I could see your point, but he and I both knew the risks when we joined the RCMP. You think he’ll be happy if I drop everything and jeopardize this investigation so that I can hold his hand in the hospital?”

“If it was you—”

“It isn’t me.” She could hear the edge in her voice, the one that sounded like a barrier being thrown up in a desperate attempt to keep her emotions in check, but it wasn’t succeeding. Ashlyn took a deep breath. “Look, I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. But you’re telling me Craig’s going to be fine. That is what you’re saying?” She waited as Zidani glanced at Tain, then looked back at her and nodded. “Then I have a job to do here.”

She held up her hand as Tain started to speak. “I know you could handle things without me, but nobody knows as much about this investigation as I do. We’re running out of time before we have to decide what to do about Shannon. Just give me ten minutes to make a phone call.”

Zidani kept his gaze on the floor as he folded his arms across his chest. Then he looked at her and nodded. “Okay.”

She reached behind her and opened the door, turned and went back to her desk. Tain hadn’t followed, she assumed to give her as much privacy as possible. It wasn’t until she put the bottled water on the desk and reached for the handset that she realized her hands were shaking.

How could she be so furious with him and so afraid at the same time? She wondered if Steve was grappling with the same dichotomy of emotions.

“Shit. Steve.” Did he even know? She sank into her chair, picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. Once they’d patched her through to Craig’s room she listened to the phone ring and ring and ring. No answer.

Steve answered his phone on the second ring and listened quietly while she told him what they knew.