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“Why don’t you go later this afternoon?” Gibson said.
“You’re right. The men split before I get there in the morning.”
“Put together all you can on Jeff. Go over everything Gunner has found out so far.”
“Okay. He definitely seems suspicious,” Scottie replied.
“We don’t have enough to do anything about it yet.”
“I know.”
Gibson was so exhausted from the missing child case that he almost fell asleep at his desk. He put down his paperwork and stretched out on the couch for a little nap.
* * *
Scottie slipped out late in the afternoon to scout out the camp. As she strolled over the soggy lawn, she could feel water seeping through her shoes. Damn. But that was okay because this time she got lucky. There was a ring of guys squatted on discarded crates and decayed logs. No one moved when she came into the clearing. An individual with black and yellow marks on his cheeks glared as she approached. The man remained still, a glower on his face and fury in his empty stare.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “What happened?”
He rolled his swollen eyes in resentment, as reluctant to talk as his fellow campers were. His trembling chin and slouched shoulders relayed the hurt he had endured from the thumping.
“I got beat up. What do you think?”
Scottie halted, surprised that he had answered her at all. She waited to hear more.
“Why do you care?” he asked angrily. Mumbles of discontent floated through the men.
“Were you involved with the murder?” She was ready to snatch the guy if he attempted to do a runner, although he didn’t look like he could even walk that well. She relaxed.
“He got beat up for carrying too much cash,” a man said and laughed gruffly.
“He was with us when that person was murdered,” echoed another.
They hollered in unison. Scottie escaped the circle and trotted back across the grass to her vehicle. Scratch out that one, she thought as she drove home.
* * *
Gibson got up and felt a little better. He looked into Scottie’s office, but she was gone. After a glance at his watch, he realized he should be on his way. He had slept longer than he had wanted to, and he had to head home first. Katherine was busy in the kitchen making him a snack to take on the road. He packed the few things he needed into a small black duffle bag. At the last moment, he tossed in the book he had left on the night stand—its page marked in the same spot for two days. Maybe he would get a chance to read a bit more. He heard the finches chirping so he headed to the dining room. His wife sat at the table with his snack in a paper bag on the table. Beside it rested an empty picture frame all shiny and new. The diploma that Katherine had earned and would receive in a pompous ceremony the following week, would find its place within the frame and be hung on the wall in the den. She smiled warmly and fingered the cool metal, happy in her own fashion. Her usual abandonment issues were tucked away in a closet somewhere for now.
Gibson glanced at his watch for the hundredth time today.
“Gotta go.” He grabbed the bag and hurried down the hallway, realizing the next ferry would be docking soon. That meant the highways would be crowded and the going slow. Every hour on the hour. It was always a matter of timing not to get stuck in the lines.
“Ferry traffic.”
“Okay. See you in two days.”
Gibson watched as she blew a kiss through the window. He whipped out of the sleepy village to the busy highway. The trip to Duncan was boring, but he made it in pretty good time. He headed to the same RCMP station that he had been to not that many days ago.
Everything seemed quieter when he entered the building. Chief Kelly sat at a computer at someone else’s desk. The printer behind him was churning out page after page. They made a crackling sound as they fell to the floor. The chief got up and gathered them into a nice neat pile.
“Hey. Take a seat. Sorry we had to call for help so soon.”
“Take’s okay.” Gibson said it, but he wasn’t sure he meant it. He had so much on his plate at home.
Kelly gave him the gist of the problem he was up against. This time it was an attempted murder case. Thank god it wasn’t another child. He didn’t think he could handle another case like that so soon. This new case was anything but a slam dunk. The police knew who the perpetrator was, but they needed help with collecting evidence. And Gibson was good at that.
“Could you give me two days?” Kelly handed him the neat pile of paper.
“Okay.” The stack was three inches thick.
“Pick any desk you want. At least the desks in here are adult size.” Kelly laughed.
Gibson had a lot of reading to do before he could even think about what direction to take. He plugged away until his eyes were sore. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. He looked out the window to a yellowish light from the sodium lamps in the parking lot. Darkness had crept in quietly while he was immersed in the pages. He left the material with the desk sergeant and went to the same motel. It was midnight by the time he lay on the bed. His eyelids fluttered. He was buried in sleep with the book open on his lap at the same page.
* * *
The next morning Gibson went to the closest café for breakfast. He drank coffee until he felt the kick of the caffeine. He left the restaurant with an extra large to go. The sky was a clear blue with white and fluffy clouds making an escape to the east on a persistent breeze. That meant sunny weather coming soon. He walked over to the station, but Kelly wasn’t there. He slogged away at the files, making notations on a separate pad. Lunch time rolled around and the chief hadn’t made an appearance yet. He toiled on some more. His cell chirped several times during the day, but he ignored most of the calls. After the fourth buzz, he turned off his phone. It was hard enough to get through this stuff without all the interruptions. Scottie knew better than to harass him, but she had called him twice already. She would have to figure out whatever was bugging her on her own.
He was getting a headache from squinting at the bright sheets of paper. He packed it in for the day without seeing anybody except for the sergeant. Most of the officers were on s
urveillance, hanging out from doorways and parked vehicles, waiting for their guy to make his first mistake. The setting sun exploded into a tangerine hue before the inky skies overtook it. The night air was chilly and the sky a million glimmers of light. At the motel, he didn’t bother to pick up his book, but stared at his phone. He fell asleep before calling his wife.
The next morning Gibson walked down the street with a sun that warmed his body, but not his mood. White birds high in the sky glided on the thermals in long arcs. His cell vibrated in his pocket.
“Gibson.”
“Hello, it’s me. Have you forgotten?” Katherine asked.
“I have not forgotten. I will be home tonight no matter what.”
They chatted for a few minutes while he walked down the pavement. The contralto of her voice lifted his gloom. She sang as sweetly as her beloved finches. The last of the grey baleful clouds got chased away. Kelly was at the reception counter when he arrived at the station.
“I have a few more things for you here.” He handed over a small folder. “I think something in here will click with something in the papers I gave you the other day.”
“Okay.”
“Has anything twigged at all?” Kelly grimaced. He didn’t want to push.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. There was something I want to look at again.” Gibson had that niggle in the back of his thoughts that often turned a blurry black and white picture into a high definition movie. “Give me a few hours.”
He sat back down at the desk and decided to look in the binder first. Something caught his eye. Something that scratched that niggle. He worked at his desk for most of the morning, checking and double-checking his facts. He thought he was close. And then it came to him. He got the desk sergeant to call up Kelly. The chief arrived just after lunch. They went over everything and agreed that the thing he found would do it. It was so simple in the end. They found the incriminating evidence on the guy’s Facebook. What a laugh.
