The Hard Fall (4 page)

T
he little town of Perth was an hour’s drive if traffic was moving well. I set out after making Dad’s breakfast. The rain from the day before had moved on but the air was still cool. Winter would be blowing into town soon. I’d spent the last five winters in the southern States, and my wardrobe ran to bathing suits, sandals, and shorts. The first snowfall was going to be a shock to my system.

I was twenty minutes outside of Perth when I spotted a black car with a tinted windshield behind me. At first, I thought nothing of it. Then I noticed that the driver was keeping a few car lengths back. The white van behind me turned off, and the black car fell further back. The driver let another car pass.
Odd.

I sped up and passed two cars. I checked my rear view mirror. The black car had passed the car that had just passed it. This was one strange game of leap frog. I reached the town of Perth with the black car still a few lengths back. I decided to carry on to the restaurant where Maddie Ringer had agreed to meet me. I’d check to see if the car followed.

I pulled into a parking spot in front of Peter’s Family Fare Restaurant on Gore Street. It was a grey limestone building with three large, square windows looking out on the street. I looked back down the street as I stepped onto the sidewalk, but didn’t see the black car. I breathed easier. Maybe I imagined the driver’s interest in me.

A woman in a yellow jogging suit lifted her head when I entered. I crossed the floor and slid into the booth across from her. “Thanks for meeting me today, Maddie,” I said. “You were right about your yellow outfit being impossible to miss.” She hadn’t mentioned her flaming red hair, oversized green glasses, and dangling pink pig earrings. Any of those would have been equally as easy to spot.

Her smile was wide and friendly. “I’m sorry you had to come all this way. At least order breakfast. The food here is great.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

We ordered bacon, fried eggs, toast, and coffee. While we waited for the food to arrive, Maddie filled me in on her cousin, Laura Flint.

“Yeah, we grew up down the street from each other in Calgary. I’m three years older than her and also adopted. Our adoptive mothers are sisters.”

“Were there other kids?”

“No. Just me and Laura. Needless to say, we were thrown together a lot growing up. At first I didn’t mind. But once I hit the teen years, she was a pain.” Maddie laughed. “She was such a needy kid, with no clue how to keep friends.”

“How so?”

“Hanging on to me and everyone else like a leech. It got to be too much when I turned fifteen. I’m not proud to say that I began avoiding her. She used to call me all the time. She’d wait for me after school and I’d sneak out another door. Cruel really, looking back. I think that’s why she ended up dating boys that year.”

“She was what, twelve?”

“Yeah. Crazy, eh? She was called Loose Laura by the time she was thirteen. There was one guy—I can’t remember his name now—that she seemed to settle on during high school. He dumped her in Grade Twelve, though. Splat! Like a hot potato. Surprised me, because they’d been all over each other all the time. The next thing I knew, she married this older guy Roger Flint.”

“The one killed in the hunting accident.”

“Yeah. That was a sad time. I went home for the funeral and Laura was all broken up. He left her a good amount of money and she started travelling. I was glad when she moved to Ottawa last year. We’ve gotten together a few times—my parents both died a few years back. It’s nice to have some family around.”

“She must have changed as an adult.”

Maddie thought for a few seconds, then said, “She was different in many ways. Tougher, for sure, but still needy. She talked about what she owned and dropped names of people she knew. I think she still felt she had to prove something to me. In some ways, she was still that little girl who didn’t belong.”

Our food arrived and we stopped talking to eat. She’d been right when she said the food was good.

I pushed my plate away with a contented sigh and drank the last of my coffee. “You inherit her house and bank account?” I asked. I raised my head to watch Maddie’s reaction.

She frowned. Her eyes lost their shine. “Maybe. I thought I would, but Laura didn’t have a will. I have to wait to see if others come forward.”

“How much money are we talking?” I couldn’t remember seeing any bank statements in the paperwork that Rosie Brown had given me.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t been kept informed and it seemed wrong to keep asking.”

And maybe greedy.

“Two bills?” the waitress asked.

“One, and I’m paying,” I said.

Maddie smiled. “Thanks. The other PI was too cheap to come to Perth. He gave me a two-minute phone call.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Not much. When he found out that I’d only seen Laura a couple of times in the last ten years, he lost interest.”

“Laura’s phone records show that you called her three times the week that she died. What did you talk about?”

Maddie’s eyes widened as if I’d hit her in the stomach. She recovered by knocking over her coffee cup and jumping up from the table. “Now look what I’ve gone and done,” she said. She grabbed napkins from the dispenser on the table and made a big show of cleaning up the small mess. Even the waitress came over to help tidy.

Maddie looked across at me when she finally sat back down. The smile this time had lost its warmth. “Where were we? Oh yes. The phone calls. I was trying to arrange a visit to stay with Laura in Ottawa. My only regret is that we never got together before she died. My last memory of her is from just before Christmas, when we exchanged gifts.”

I was curious. “What did she give you?”

Maddie waved a hand in front of her face. “Oh, nothing big. Just a book on killing unwanted pests in the garden. There was a coupon that came with it.”

I blinked.

Maddie’s eyes filled with tears. “Laura knew how much I love flowers,” she said. “The book was her way of being helpful. The really sad thing is that not even a year later, I was putting my roses on her grave.”

A long, slow shiver travelled up my back. I tried to catch Maddie’s eyes but she was getting up from the table with her face turned the other way. She’d scooted over to the counter before I had time to say anything in response.

I paid the bill and we walked out of the restaurant, Maddie keeping well ahead of me. She muttered something about being late and said a quick goodbye when we stepped outside. I could tell she had no intention of answering any more of my questions. As a result I was more than a little surprised when Maddie called from across the street as I was unlocking my car. She was waving both arms above her head.

“Alex! Alex Dowd! That was the name of the guy she dated in high school.” Maddie beamed and gave the thumbs up as if she’d just won the lottery.

“Great. Thanks for everything, Maddie.” I returned her thumbs up. I unlocked my car and got in. I had a better idea now of who Laura Flint had been. She used men to feel loved. Paul Taylor was one in a string, and she had a hard time letting go. The police believed she’d gotten naked and snuck into his bed. He’d lost it and killed her. From everything Maddie had told me, Laura
could
have acted in that way. Paul Taylor might have had enough and killed her in a rage. I started the car.

However, another scenario was also taking shape in my mind. Maddie and her husband were only an hour’s drive from Ottawa. They were keen to get their hands on Laura’s money, but Laura looked at them as pests. The book was more than a gift, it was a message. And they’d taken a lesson from it and gotten rid of Laura before she got rid of them.

I
checked my rear view mirror several times on my way back to Ottawa. The black car was nowhere in sight. I made good time and reached the Bentley sector in the west end right after lunch. The Taylor office building was tucked next to a sheet metal shop. From what I’d read, Taylor’s company got off the ground making helicopters. They’d recently started making small planes as well. Paul Taylor’s designs had made him very, very rich. The ground floor of the main building was a showroom. The offices were on the second.

A girl with a half-shaved head wearing shorts and work boots led me into a meeting room. Paul’s backstabbing VPs Gordon Tate and Kyle Short were already inside waiting. They were bent over a file folder when I entered. Both stood and shook my hand before we all got comfortable around the table. Gordon had thinning blond hair and a round pleasant face; Kyle was tall and lean with shoulder length black hair and a full beard. Both wore jeans and dress shirts with their sleeves rolled up. They were in their early thirties, and eligible bachelors judging by their ringless left hands.

“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.

Gordon and Kyle exchanged looks as if to see who should do the talking. Gordon must have lost the eye toss because he spoke first. Or maybe Kyle was just the follower that Paul Taylor had said he was.

“No problem, but we’re not sure that we can tell you anything the police don’t already know.”

“That’s okay. But I have to do my own investigation. I’m sorry to make you repeat everything.” I opened my notebook and got out a pen. “I understand you’re trying to buy out Paul Taylor’s share of the company.” No point dragging this out.

Gordon folded his arms across his chest. He glared at me. “We can’t have a guy in prison for life running our business. We’ve already had clients cancel orders.”

“But Paul hasn’t been found guilty of anything yet.”

Kyle spoke up. “He will be. There’s nobody else who could have killed her.”

I met his eyes. They were not pleased. “Neither of you seem to have liked him very much,” I commented. “He told me that you were friends for a long time, Gordon.”

Gordon’s face tightened in anger. “We might have been friends, once. Paul Taylor didn’t get where he was by being a nice guy. He stole my ideas and said they were his. He stepped on people when they got in his way. Killing a girlfriend so his wife wouldn’t find out was just the next step up.”

Shove in the knife and then turn the handle.
“So where were the two of you the morning Laura Flint was murdered?” I asked.

They looked at each other again. Then Gordon turned to me and said, “We were both here working that morning, while Paul was out playing. We had a client in town from Boston. Paul took him golfing and we got to stay back and finish up his contract.”

“Did anyone see the two of you that morning?”

“No. We were here alone, working through yet another Saturday while Taylor was off having fun.” Gordon’s face paled. “Not that killing Laura would have been fun. I meant the golf.”

“Of course. How is business, by the way?”

Kyle smiled for the first time. “Good. Business is very good. We just had an outside firm do an audit and all is in order. This is turning into our best year yet.” The two of them smiled at each other like a couple of cats sharing a bowl of cream.

And the only one standing in your way is on trial for murder.
Gordon had motive and Kyle looked like he’d be eager to assist. And their alibis were each other. Not exactly rock solid. How far would they go to get rid of their boss? The glimmer of hope I felt for Paul Taylor after meeting with cousin Maddie was growing brighter.

“Well, those are all my questions for now.” I stood. “I’ll do a bit of digging before I come back to see you again. I guess the two of you won’t be leaving town.” I laughed but let the threat hang in the air.

I could tell by their eyes that neither of them found me all that funny.

* * *

I joined the heavy traffic heading home after the work day. I wasn’t on my way home, though. I was heading back to the office to put in a few more hours of work.

I climbed the stairs and tried the office door. It was locked. Jada was probably home sleeping. She’d soon be getting ready for another night chasing after Dick the husband. I got out my key and let myself in.

The first thing I did was turn on the desk lamp and start the computer. While it booted up, I got myself a beer from the fridge. Then, I checked the two voice messages on the phone. Both were from people answering the office manager ad. Jada sure hadn’t wasted any time. I’d been hoping that they were new clients asking for our services. Only three cases between us in a month and a half. If I didn’t get Paul Taylor off, word would travel quickly. We’d be lucky to get any new business at all.

I typed a brief report for Rosie Brown and sent it to her by email. Then I turned my attention to my own files. These ones were for my own personal use and would never be shared with the client. It was where I wrote down all of my thoughts, feelings, and hunches. One small detail could later become the most important piece of the puzzle.

An hour into my work, I lifted my head. A banging noise had broken through my concentration. It sounded like it was coming from the stairwell. A prickle of alarm made me leap to my feet and cross to the door. I lifted a hand to turn the knob, but stopped to listen. The noise was louder and echoed up the empty stairwell.

I slowly turned the handle and looked out at the dimly lit landing. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Relief made me laugh out loud. It was only the door at the bottom of the stairs, swinging back and forth in the breeze. As I watched, it banged open against the brick wall outside.

“I thought I shut that,” I said out loud. I sighed and climbed down the stairs. My knees still ached from my fall into the street. I pulled the door tight, making sure I heard the click of the latch. Somebody going by must have opened it and kept going. I had to stop being so jumpy.

After another hour hunched over the keyboard, I stood up and stretched.

Darkness filled the corners of the room. Night had crept in while I was working. I walked over to the window and looked out. The street lights were on. The white glow from store fronts and restaurants lit up the sidewalks. It was time to go home and make Dad some supper.