The Slow Burn of Silence (A Snowy Creek Novel) (20 page)

BOOK: The Slow Burn of Silence (A Snowy Creek Novel)
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Annie Pirello watched Rachel Salonen running up the stairs. Her gaze shifted to her boss, Adam, on other end of the plaza near the saloon doors. He was in uniform and wearing a bulletproof vest like the rest of them. Hal “the Rock” Banrock had gone over and was talking to him. Their body language was intense. Annie frowned as she watched them.

Hal’s son, Levi Banrock, was among the four Jeb Cullen was accusing of perjury in the Shady Lady right now, and it looked as though the Rock was none too happy about this.

A CBC van joined the Global and CTV television vans. The media was arriving en force, lapping up the dirt in this famous little ski town. The fact Cullen was targeting top community members was only fueling the news value.

Annie had downloaded and watched the docudrama that Piper Smith had aired on the case. It had been riveting,
Twin Peaks–
ish stuff. Now it was all coming to life again with the return of Cullen, and it was just as compelling the second time around. From where Annie stood, there was definitely unresolved history between her boss and Salonen. Was it because Luke LeFleur was Adam’s little brother? Because his mother had led the investigative charge against Cullen? And what interest did Rock Banrock have? How far might someone go to keep a secret buried?

She’d seen Cullen walking into the Shady Lady Saloon earlier. He had looked like he’d been worked over good. As Salonen had claimed. The bandage on his brow matched the story of blood on the tire iron. Cullen committing arson, burning down his own place, didn’t make sense.

She thought of the cut on her boss’s face. Trey Somerland also looked like he’d been in a dustup, and very recently.

“What you looking at, Pirello?” It was Novak.

She turned. “Salonen’s cute ass. How about you?”

Quinn was lagging at the back of the biker pack as they bombed down the single-track trail between trees. The wind was cold against her ears, and her eyes were streaming, her legs shaking from standing on pedals. They’d done a descent of the whole of Bear Mountain today.

As they whizzed into a sharp downhill switchback, her pedal caught on a root. Quinn slammed on the brakes too fast and went right over the handlebars in a complete somersault. She landed with a thud on her back. The pain was so big she couldn’t breathe. She stared up at the dark canopy, the slices of sky between the branches, tears leaking into her ears. Slowly her breathing came back and she rolled over, getting to her hands and knees. But she froze as she heard something in the forest. Her heart jumped into her throat. She was all alone.

A chipmunk broke the silence with angry stabs of sound.

Then Brandy cycled back up the trail. “Hey, kiddo,” she said, dropping her bike. “You okay? Let me see that knee.” That was when Quinn noticed it was bleeding. Brandy helped her sit on a rock, then she unzipped the first aid kit around her waist.

After she’d cleaned Quinn’s knee, she applied a Band-Aid. “You all right now?”

Quinn squeezed her mouth tight and nodded. She wanted Rachel.

Brandy picked up Quinn’s bike, checked it, then brought it over. But she paused, a funny look entering her eyes. “Did you get to see who was in the boathouse, Quinn?” she asked quietly, holding on to Quinn’s bike.

Quinn’s heart began to
whump
. She felt trapped. She thought of the police who’d come looking for him. “No.”

Brandy stared at her for what seemed like a long time. The chipmunk’s shrieking grew loud.

“Are you sure?”

Quinn looked down and nodded her head quickly.

“Because the cops would want to know, you know that?”

Quinn said nothing. Her aunt’s words circled around in her head.
Sometimes a little white lie can be the right thing in the long run. Because right now, it will give Jeb time to show everyone that he’s perfectly innocen
t . . .

“There’s a man who started the fire out at Wolf River last night on purpose,” Brandy said quietly, still watching Quinn, still holding on to her bike. “The police are looking for him because he could have burned down that First Nations village in the other valley. He could have killed people.”

Fire.

It made Quinn shake inside. It made her eyes burn. Her angel would never have started that fire. But Brandy was making her scared. Quinn looked up.

Brandy smiled gently, held out her hand, and suddenly that funny look in her eyes was gone. “Come, let’s get you home.”

They rode into the camp base together, near the skiers’ warming hut. As they came to a stop, Brandy got off her bike and said, “The cops are good people, Quinn. You can trust them. You can trust me.”

Quinn nodded and clutched her handlebars tightly. She couldn’t meet Brandy’s eyes.

“I wanted to be a cop once, you know. I even did the basic training at Depot Division in Regina, to become a Mountie.”

Quinn sneaked a peek at Brandy’s face, curiosity getting the better of her. “What happened? Why aren’t you a Mountie then?”

“They didn’t know a good thing when they saw it.” Brandy smiled broadly but her eyes looked cold again and her voice had gone weird. “You see, that’s another thing we learn in life. Even adults, authorities, one’s own parents and family, can make bad judgments.” She bent down and spoke softly. “But you can trust me. You can tell me about that man, okay? If your aunt is putting pressure on you, I have a very good friend who can help.”

Lily LeFleur waited at the base near the cross-country skiers’ warming hut for her sons to come in with the younger boys’ group. She’d been to see Dr. Bennett—he’d taken her in right away as an emergency—and she felt a lot better after talking to him. He made her feel she had nothing to be ashamed of. It was an illness to which she was prone when things got out of whack in her body. Some people had to worry about stomach upsets, or insomnia, or neck pain, or high blood pressure when facing stress. Her weakness, her health Achilles’ heel, was depression. She needed to be more watchful. Taking that first drink last night while worrying about Adam and another woman had been a mistake.

She stood next to Beppie Rudiger, Clint’s wife; Stacey Sedgefield, a single mom who was dating Trey; and Vickie St. John, Levi Banrock’s personal assistant. They’d gravitated together today because they shared an uneasy bond with the men in their lives being raked through the mud via the press and social media. Jebbediah Cullen was back and he was causing trouble.

“That’s the kid who attacked Missy at school,” Stacey said with a nod of her chin as a slight girl with dark curls sticking out from under her helmet came riding in with Brandy, one of the group leaders. Stacey was in an especially foul and weird mood. She’d hurt her hand; it was in a bandage, but she hadn’t said how it happened.

“Was it really Jeb Cullen who broke up that fight between them?” Vickie said, watching the kid.

Lily frowned. “Who claims it was Jeb?”

“That’s what Levi told me,” Vickie said. “He also said the cops were looking at Jeb for starting that wildfire.”

“Adam never told me that,” Lily said quietly, feeling betrayed somehow all over again. It seemed like everyone in town knew things she didn’t, and her husband was one of the top cops. She should be the first to know these things.

“That’s because Adam is a professional,” Beppie offered kindly.

“Jeb’s back for revenge, if you ask me,” Vickie said. “Revenge against the people who put him away.”

“But why would he follow Rachel’s niece and step in to help her with the fight, then?” Lily said.

“Yeah, that’s what I want to know. And why is Rachel defending Jeb now, stirring up crap with her paper, when she was one who helped put him away?” Vickie said. “There’s something weird going on there.”

“Maybe it’s Rachel’s way of getting back at Trey for breaking off the engagement or something,” Lily offered. “Who knows with people sometimes. This just doesn’t seem like her, though.”

They stood in silence, watching the other kids coming in on their bikes, a quiet sense of collusion forming among these women who’d grown up in this town. There was an unspoken understanding they would stick together in the face of this looming adversity.

Stacey, however, was still oddly fixated on Rachel’s niece. She rubbed her bandaged hand as she stared at the kid, a strange, distant look on her face.

“Stacey,” Lily said gently. “Is your hand okay?”

Stacey swung round suddenly to face the group. She stared at them in silence for several beats, as if weighing a heavy decision. Then she drew in her breath and said, “You guys are not going to believe what I heard. I
t . . .
it changes everything.”

Jeb’s cell rang.

“Go ahead, answer it,” said Cass. “We’re good to go here.”

He keyed his phone. “Jeb.”

“It’s Rachel. I’m parked in the loading zone right out back. If you go down that passage behind your table, past the men’s restroom, there’s a fire exit at the end. It’s usually unlocked from the inside; fire regulations. Olivia uses it as a delivery entrance so the alarm is usually unarmed during the day.” She paused. “Jeb, it’s a mess out front. You don’t want to go that way.”

He leaned forward, whispered to Cass and Hallie across the table that he was going to make a duck for it out back. Hallie nodded. “That’s fine. I got what we need. I’m going to head out front, take some shots of the crowd gathering out there.”

Diversion. Good.

Hallie gathered her camera bag and made for the saloon doors.

The men across the room watched her go. Jeb took the moment to get up and slip down the corridor out back, as if he were going to the men’s room. Cass remained seated as if awaiting his return.

The corridor was dark past the washrooms. He found the door at the end, pushed the fire lever across the back. It opened. No alarm.

Rachel was outside, reversed in beside a Dumpster, engine running, door open. He moved quickly to the truck, climbed into the passenger seat. She started driving before he could even close the door.

He took in her white face, tight jaw. “You’re shaking.”

She bit her lip, emotion glittering fierce in her eyes.

He reached out, put his hand on her knee. “What happened to Bonnie and Clyde?”

“Bonnie needs a goddamn stiff drink, that’s what. She’s not up for this.”

BOOK: The Slow Burn of Silence (A Snowy Creek Novel)
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Don't Open The Well by Anderson, Kirk
The Kissing Booth by Beth Reekles
Crown's Law by Wolf Wootan
Old Poison by Joan Francis
Murder on Washington Square by Victoria Thompson
Sword of Jashan (Book 2) by Anne Marie Lutz