Road Warrior, page 16
He cleared his throat. “I should come clean with you, Abby. I was already interested in that guy, Paul, before this happened.”
“I was wondering about all the coincidences,” I said drily. “Why didn’t you warn us?”
Clearing his throat again, he went on. “Paul was just a person of interest in the cases I was investigating up north. He always seemed to be somewhere in the background, and he always seemed to have left town before the cases came to light. He moved around from job to job when he came to the city, and I’d just figured out where he was when you arrived back in Toronto. There was nothing untoward that we were aware of to date.” He sighed tiredly.
“My assignment was to assess the situation, so I was keeping an eye on him. I didn’t want to spook him, but now he’s disappeared again. It looks suspicious, but I have no evidence of his involvement. Right now, we’re stuck in the realm of pure speculation—again. Incidentally, he has a checkered history of petty theft, vagrancy, and low-end jobs. But if Paul is a predator, Thomas would be an easy target. Sounds like the poor kid was starting to be a runner.”
Dave turned the corner onto Kensington Avenue and stopped in front of Neptune’s Nook. He turned to me as we sat in the car, the only light coming from the surrounding streetlights.
“That’s what’s so frustrating. We have so few clues. And if Frank was really just AWOL, then we’re back to square one.” He sighed. “You haven’t heard anything yet in the Market, I suppose?”
“No,” I said sadly. “I’ve put out the word, and you met Junior, the guy who came up to your car window. He seems to have appointed himself as chief lookout. It’s kind of endearing.”
“Oh yeah, the tough guy. He was definitely curious when I came by.” He chuckled. “And he was pretty disappointed when I wouldn’t share anything with him. Well, if you’re that connected with the locals, I’m sure you’ll hear if Paul shows up.”
“I suppose … though all I’ve found out so far is that he wasn’t well liked. Junior called him a weasel.”
“Why would he call him that?”
“I don’t know, but the couple of times I met him, he’d pop up and I didn’t hear or see him coming. You know what’s funny, though?” I asked rhetorically. “He and Thomas seemed to hit it off even though the Market types didn’t like him.”
“Well,” Dave said, “a predator would have the ability to spot a weakness or a vulnerability. He could have seen that Thomas was hurting and offered him friendship.”
“Or it’s possible that he was just being friendly, that he saw that Thomas was in pain, just like he was himself. It must have been tough being ostracized from the community. I would imagine what you describe as predatory could also just be called empathy in other circumstances. Thomas was ripe for someone older showing an interest in him. Look how quickly he buddied up with you, too,” I added, keeping my own questions about that to myself.
Dave continued talking. “That’s what makes this so difficult. You are absolutely right, and that brings us back again to the big question: where is Thomas?”
Dave looked over at the shop and then back to me. “I’d like to help you clean up that place but I’m expected at the station. I want to connect with the Bracebridge detachment to see what they have in store for Frank. He might be buoyed by Maria’s message if they can pass it on to him. And frankly,” he said, briefly putting his hand over mine and looking into my eyes, “I’m bushed.”
I let his hand linger and then pulled mine away lest my mind wander into unprofessional and still uncharted territory. Patting his hand placatingly for a second, I replied, “Me too, now that you mention it. Maybe I’ll crash, get up early and clean up in the morning. After all, I’m my own boss right now.” As I moved to exit the car, I said, “Thanks for taking me up to Maria’s and sharing that stuff about Paul.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you came along. I know it helped Maria to have her friends there, and I think I owed it to you to let you know why I was on the scene so early.”
“And I thought it was my pretty face,” I joked, feeling the need to lighten the atmosphere a bit.
He smiled tiredly. “That’s just a bonus, and you’re a bike geek too. We still have to take a time out when this is over to go for a longer ride.”
“It’s a date,” I said cheerily as I finally got out of the car and closed the door, congratulating myself on my cool exterior. However, as I rounded the car, Dave rolled down his window and called out.
“Hold on, you forgot something.”
I turned back wondering if he meant my good night kiss, but I saw that he was holding out Reenie’s magic wand instead. He waved it and intoned, “Abracadabra, the shop is clean.”
“If only,” I said, laughing as I took the wand. “Well, whatever works. Perhaps this will help me find my inner Princess Abby and Mary Poppins rolled into one,” I said self-mockingly.
“Don’t forget Nancy Drew too,” he added, and then he gently took my hand and kissed it lightly as he said, “Good night, Princess Abby.”
Surprised by the gesture and a little overwhelmed, I extricated my hand carefully and politely. Who would have thought such a treacle-laden scene along with a simple kiss could burn the skin and send lightning bolts up my arm? I might have stepped back a little too quickly, because he seemed surprised at my reaction.
“Sorry,” he said, regretfully. “I got carried away. That was probably out of line.” This of course proved that the man was not a cad and that he had a conscience too!
I quickly exercised triage. “No, no,” I said urgently. “Don’t worry. It just literally gave me a shock; must have been the wand or some electrical connection to the ground.” Smooth, Abby, I said to myself. “Good night, Dave,” I repeated lightly but hurriedly, as I wanted to extricate us both from our mutual embarrassment.
“Okay then,” he replied lightly too. “Let’s check in tomorrow to keep each other informed.”
“Sure,” I agreed, and then I let myself into the shop, closing the door quickly. Whew, I thought. That was confusing, weird and awkward… and nice.
Preoccupied with the myriad events of the day, I decided to do as I told Dave I would—leave the clean up until the morning. I needed another, more thorough, shower and to call it an early night. So, waving the magic wand flamboyantly around the shop, I told the room I’d be back in the morning to set things to rights. Climbing the stairs to my apartment, I realized that my head was in a muddle. What had happened to my super self-assured persona? I no longer felt sure-footed and found myself questioning everything: my fickle heart, my inability to figure things out, and my best friend’s perfect relationship, which no longer seemed so perfect. I was afraid I couldn’t trust my intuition anymore, and that didn’t feel good.
As I mulled over this uncomfortable state, my stomach, the one constant in my life, growled. Looking back, I realized that I had basically eaten nothing all day except for a couple of pastries and liquid meals. I didn’t feel like cooking and didn’t want to venture out again so, ruefully, I prepared myself another protein shake. It served to shut my stomach up and probably rebalanced my blood sugar, but I was too far gone to feel emotionally uplifted. Maybe tomorrow, I thought to myself.
It was a good thing that my mother and Anita had arranged for Juaneva Martin, our lawyer friend, to take care of the legal side of Maria’s problems because she would be better than any of us at making sure that Frank got home quickly. I would check in the morning with Arabella to make sure that the wheels were in motion. It might also be time to get a social worker or counsellor in to help them navigate the stresses of their current situation, the fallout, and their recent relationship problems. I hoped, deep in my heart, that it wouldn’t have to include survivor’s counselling. I also hoped that their relationship would survive. There would be so much self-recrimination and blame and doubt that it would take hard work to come through it in a healthy way.
Even though Frank was still a suspect, I shared Maria’s certainty that he would not intentionally hurt Thomas or remove him from his mother so cruelly. Her certainty was going to be good for their relationship, I was sure of that.
Even Dave’s pointing at Paul could be misdirection. After all, what did I know about either of them? By Dave’s own self-admission, his ability to cozy up to Thomas could be just as suspicious as Paul’s. Maybe even his sweet advances to me were a way to get me to look elsewhere. He, like Paul, came from the towns in the north where the children had been abducted.
Earlier that evening, when I’d gone upstairs with Maria, I’d asked her if she’d given Dave the green sweatshirt. She didn’t know what I was talking about. Her response gave me pause. Was Dave just playing me? What point would there be to that? Of course, it was always possible, with all the drugs she had been taking, that she just didn’t remember, but Dave did seem to be a little stealthy about that shirt. I needed to ask him what happened to those other abducted children he’d talked about.
From the sound of it, Paul was used to being in trouble, so he would be accustomed to being blamed for things he may not have done. Maybe he just didn’t want to be blamed again. Perhaps that was why he had disappeared.
My head was spinning with all the what-ifs and incomplete threads of ideas. I decided to forget it all for a few minutes and have the steamy shower I’d promised myself. As the hot water started to soothe my brain, I allowed myself to relax and let go. I wondered if I should call Sunny and share some of what was going on, hear his voice, bounce some ideas back and forth like we had when I was trying to figure out who murdered the logging company owner on Peregrine Island in BC.
But, given the chemical attraction and possible burgeoning friendship between Dave and me, it seemed disloyal. Sunny had made it very clear that I didn’t owe him anything, but our parting was still very raw. Feeling more alone than I liked, I dried off and threw myself into bed. Selling fish and not solving crimes was clearly very exhausting.
CHAPTER 23: TUESDAY
“PAY ATTENTION AND STAY FOCUSED,” I said to myself as I jumped a sidewalk with a BMX bike that wasn’t mine. I felt the thrill of the busy road, the rush of winding through traffic, and the need to stay alert as a taxi brushed close by. The adrenaline coursed through my veins. I felt free and alive, face flushed with the exertion of the ride.
I had been thoroughly enjoying this couriering dream until I entered a very dark tunnel and I found myself riding headlong into nothingness. Those words again, Pay attention and stay focused, echoed back at me as I woke up.
“Good advice,” I groaned, rolling over to spend another day with recently dead aquatic beings. The problem was figuring out what to pay attention to, what to focus on. What was I missing? I kept wondering as I pulled on the least dirty pair of jeans I could find. It was amazing how I could rotate my dirty clothes for so long that they somehow seemed clean again. However, laundry was definitely calling for my attention.
The short-term answer to my dilemma was to eat something and then focus on cleaning up the shop, arranging seafood, cutting, packing, and trying not to cut off my fingers. In the old days, Maria’s mom, Irene, was always lecturing me when I worked in the shop. She was always on me to pay more attention because, she often said, she didn’t want any of my blood on her fish. As if there wasn’t enough blood already, I remember thinking. Who would notice a little more?
Irene was always bossy but well intentioned, I thought, smiling at the memory of her bustling around the shop. I was very glad she was away in Portugal so she would not be burdened with what was going on. She was no longer as hale as my mother, and her anxiety would have drained Maria even more. Hopefully, Thomas would be found safe before she came back. The shock of the alternative might be too hard for her to bear, considering her heart condition.
It was a steady morning for business. A small line had formed before I opened because I was a little slow getting everything shipshape. And then I took a few minutes to run and get a coffee and an egg sandwich, and to update Mario. I didn’t linger though, since someone had the nerve to send Junior to get me back to the shop. He must have been taking his job seriously. I wasn’t used to seeing any of his crowd before noon; they usually party late and sleep in. In a shameless effort to remain on Junior’s good side, I complimented him on his assiduousness at the job as we walked back to Neptune’s Nook together. He blushed an amazing shade of pink and attempted nonchalance as he almost skipped back to his observation post.
The best thing about the fish shop job was that it did require focus, so I couldn’t spend too much time dwelling on my confused thoughts. Before I knew it, it was noon. I ushered out the last customer and put up the lunch sign. I sent Junior to get us both some empanadas up the street and returned to my office to check for updates. I really wanted to know what was up with Frank—whether he would be allowed to come home.
There was a message from Arabella. She wanted to fill me in but didn’t want me to use my cell for a long call. In her usual quick speech, she told me she’d call in to my landline around twelve-fifteen, so I waited in the office. Before she rang me, Junior rapped on my back door and handed over my lunch. “Thanks, bud,” I said, looking at the single empanada and deciding I needed more. “Do me one more favour and ask Ernesto to prepare me a seafood taco. I’ll pick it up in a few minutes. Then take a break. Just be back around one.”
“Sure thing.” He smiled and took off. I wondered if this was the start of the conversion to employed citizen for the young lad. He’d make a good security guard or general assistant. I doubted anyone had made him feel needed before, so I made a mental note to try to help him find a real job as soon as I could.
Right on time, Arabella rang me up.
“Abby?” she said imperiously.
“Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
“I’ll keep this brief, dear. I just wanted to let you know that Juaneva is on the case for Frank’s release. She drove up to Bracebridge early this morning to speak to the judge. We’re hopeful that he’ll be released into her custody if she says he will stay in the house.”
“That’s great news; Juaneva is perfect for the job. She’s tough and sympathetic. I was hoping she would take this on.”
Arabella sighed tiredly. “I just hope Thomas is found safe soon. It’s tough to see so much pain and feel so helpless.”
“My feelings exactly. I am so confused and frustrated.”
“I know what you mean. I’m continuing to pray and send out positive energy. You can try that too. You know it makes a difference to our reality, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, but it sure is tough to stay convinced when stuff like this happens.” I’d gobbled up my empanada as we talked, but my noisy stomach confirmed that hunger remained. “Um, Mom,” I interrupted, “I have to go next door for a bite before I go back to the fish. I don’t mean to be rude, but is there any other news?”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “No, there’s nothing else. Go eat—we don’t need you fading out on us.”
“You’re taking care of yourself too, I hope.”
“Don’t worry about me, dear. I have been making some healthy soups for Maria, and we’re all eating as well as we can under the circumstances.”
“You’re the best. It helps to know you’re keeping things organized up there. Say hi to Maria. How’s she doing today, anyway?”
“I will tell her, dear. She is strangely calm now that she knows Frank might be home soon. It’s either that or the medication she’s on.”
“Probably a bit of both,” I replied. “Okay, got to go now. Take care.”
“Bye, love.” She hung up.
I rushed two doors up to a new Latin American Café. It does a booming business and has a line out the door most days. Since I’d ordered ahead, I didn’t have to wait. Ernesto, the chef, smiled sympathetically as I gratefully received the steaming, dripping taco. “You’re not sick of seafood yet, Abby?” he asked.
“Not when you make it, Ernesto,” I said, salivating at the heady, spicy aroma, which could momentarily transport one to warmer climes. “I thank you profusely.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he replied, declining payment. “We’re all in this together.”
“But you know I’m not so good at taking something for nothing,” I protested, silently thinking about all the meals I’d been treated to lately and wondering if this was true.
He nodded as he continued to work. “I know, Abby, except when you’re on a date with rich man. But since you’re currently maintaining my seafood supply, you’re just going to have to suck it up. Anyway,” he laughed, “don’t you have to get back to work soon? I’m too busy to argue with you.” He gestured behind me. “You’re holding up the line.”
“Okay, okay, you win.”
I left with my hot package and started eating as I walked down the street to Mario’s. I loved the Market. It was like a huge home with a very large, loving, and dysfunctional family. Wiping away the last dribble of sauce, I entered Overdrive and called out, “One coffee to go, s’il vous plait. I have a date with a red snapper.”
Mario laughed as he prepared an espresso. “Coming up. I’m glad to see you haven’t totally lost your sense of humour, given the circumstances.”
“I know. I feel a bit guilty about it, but everyone around here is so supportive, it’s either smile or cry. Even Junior is showing a good side so, for now, I’m smiling. Besides, I just got the good news that Frank might be back soon. That’s a start anyway.”
He handed me my cappuccino. “Well, if you don’t bring me some of my empty glasses back tout suite I’ll have to be less nice. I’ll even risk you sending them over with Junior.”
“He’ll be thrilled to be helpful,” I said. “And for now, I’m going to do what my mother suggested—think positive thoughts and commune with fish.”
