Chapter 4 #2
The bracelet was a different story. I picked through the assortment, not seeing anything with six different gems on it, and in the end, took the two closest options and closed the box.
Heidi was waiting outside the door. I handed over the necklaces and she opened the locket and frowned. “Where are the photos?”
“The originals? No clue.” I didn’t add any further comment and after a moment she slid both items into her purse.
“And the bracelet?”
I held out my hand with the probably-fake-diamond tennis bracelet and a twisted gold one with three green stones. “This was all I found.”
She looked down her nose at them. “If you bring out the box, I can look through it myself.”
I shook my head. “I’ll try again another time, and if I find something like that, I’ll ship it to you.
” She wanted to protest, but I held out the bracelets.
“Here, take these as new mementos of Krystal, in case the other one never turns up. For now, we’re going to stay out of that bedroom.
” I let my glare harden to the one I used for junkies who claimed “that’s not mine” about the stash I’d found in their pocket. “Do you hear me?”
“Huh.” She took the bracelets and added them to her purse. “The other one has sentimental value. You promise you’ll send it to us?”
“If I find it.”
She turned and headed off into her room.
Would’ve been nice if the main suite had a key, but the door only locked from the inside.
There probably wasn’t anything much of value to steal.
Josiah had his parents’ wedding rings, and the rest hadn’t impressed me.
But the thought of Heidi poking around and sniffing at everything made me irritable.
I was back down in the study, digging in the desk, making notes of all the bills and subscriptions and charities Dad and Krystal paid, when yelling started up again overhead.
Ah, fuck. I left the study and had only just turned for the stairs when Josiah blasted past me at a run and banged out the front door.
“Hey!” I called after him. “Where are you going?” When I reached the front porch, he had the door to the garage open and was dragging out his bike.
“Josiah! Helmet! And I asked you a question. Do you have your phone? Do you want a jacket?” He’d at least ditched the too-small sweats and was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, a bit skimpy for the weather.
“I’m going to Brayden’s house!” He yanked his helmet down on his head and straddled the bike.
I fought an impulse to yell at him, demand he get his fuckin’ ass back in the house. That’s not who I am. That’s the undercover bullshit I’m leaving behind. I dug deep for what Zeke Evans should say. Patience. Reason.
“Brayden will be in school,” I pointed out. “It’s Monday.” We’d kept Josiah home since Krystal died, and I’d planned to see if he was ready to go back Wednesday, after all the Thompsons were gone. Back when I thought his mother’s relatives might be a comfort.
“Then I’ll bike around till he gets home.” Josiah stood on his pedals and powered off. His back tire looked a bit soft to me, and I hoped he wouldn’t run into problems, but hopefully he knew I’d come help if he called me. Assuming he had his phone—
“You let him just run off like that?” Heidi demanded from behind me. “After talking back to me?”
Her nasty attitude made it easier for me to be cool and calm. I’m not like her. “Why would I stop him?”
“He’s not dressed for the weather. He’s a child and he needs to listen to his elders.”
The first part of that was true, but natural consequences, right?
If he got cold, he’d stop for a jacket next time.
The temperature was over freezing so he wouldn’t get frostbite.
As for the second. “He’s twelve.” I had to keep reminding myself of that too, especially because Josiah was small for his age, but I didn’t let Heidi see my concern.
“One of my school friends started babysitting when she was twelve. If she could be responsible for little kids, Josiah can bike around the neighbourhood on his own.”
“Hah! Well, don’t come running to us when raising a child gets to be too much for you and he ends up in trouble.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Heidi whirled on her heel and stomped back inside, slamming the front door with me on the porch.
“Wow,” a low voice said. “Who’s the witch?”
I turned and spotted Callum squatting by his father’s rock bed, pulling weeds. A pile of last year’s dry remnants and new green shoots filled a bucket at his side.
Since I didn’t put it past Heidi to listen at the door, I jogged down the steps and over to Callum, dodging the bushes between our properties. “My aunt-in-law. Krystal’s sister.”
“Seems like a lovely person.”
His dry tone made me laugh, which felt like a gift. “Yeah. All of the Thompsons are like that. I’m so glad Krystal didn’t change the part of the will that named me Josiah’s guardian. They’d suck the joy right out of him.”
“Whatever joy he has…” Callum gazed down the road where Josiah had disappeared, his eyes unfocused.
“Yeah. Tough time for him.”
He pulled his attention back to me. “He’s lucky to have you. One good person on your side makes a difference.” He paused. “Tough for him? Not both of you?”
I tilted my hand back and forth. “Krystal and I didn’t really get along.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling him this, except I’d spent a week where everyone around me was on Krystal’s side, and I wanted to get it out. “She had zero use for me once Dad died.”
“But she left Josiah to your care?”
“Yeah. Maybe she had zero use for her Ontario relatives, too. Or maybe because that’s what Dad wanted and she always followed his lead.
One thing I will say for Krystal, she loved Dad.
Almost obsessively. I think half her beef with me was that I took his time and attention away from her.
” At Callum’s flinch, I realized I was drastically oversharing. “Sorry. Not your problem.”
“Or yours, anymore,” he pointed out.
I choked, and he flushed.
“Sorry. Diplomacy isn’t my good thing.”
“I noticed that,” I told him, trying to lighten the mood. “Top in penalty minutes for all the goalies in the PHL.”
“You know my stats?”
“I looked you up after the funeral.”
“Wondering who that weird guy who can’t change a tire was?”
I waved at his old red car sitting in his grandfather’s drive. “Looks like you figured it out.”
“Maybe I called BCAA,” he snapped, then grimaced. “Nah, actually, I did figure it out.”
“I was bored,” I told him. “Couldn’t sleep. And I used to follow hockey, before I got busy. Went down a couple of rabbit holes. Your grandfather brags on how talented you are.”
Callum flushed. “I’m no Jan Stetina, but I do okay. For the PHL.”
“You don’t live at home these days, do you?” I wouldn’t mind having someone to talk to next door. I mean, I could talk to his grandfather, but someone my own age would be welcome.
But he shook his head. “I’m just here now and then, helping Grandpa. This would be a long-ass drive to the arena. Although if I can’t find a new roommate, I may find out just how long.”
“Losing a roomie?”
“He’s moving in with his girlfriend. Yay for twu wuv.” He grimaced. “I mean, I’m happy for him, but it leaves me in a bind. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a place to stay?”
“Ha. No. I inherited half the house and Josiah gets the other half in trust with me. I’m not going to uproot him from his friends and school and everything, so I guess I’m living here.
I actually have an apartment in the city centre, but I’ll have to get out of the lease.
” I ran a hand over my bristly haircut. “My life got a bit upended.”
“I bet. Hope he appreciates it. I didn’t.” Callum dumped another handful of weeds in the bucket.
I reached to pick up a couple of stragglers for him and my sleeve rode up, exposing the big gauze square taped to my forearm.
“Ouch.” He gestured. “Painful?”
I shrugged and picked at a corner of the tape.
It was none of his business, really no one’s but mine, except I did feel like my life was crashing down on my head lately, and I was so alone.
I wanted to find myself, the Zeke I used to be, and the memories crawling under my skin made it harder.
Sharing with someone, even a near-stranger, would be a lifeline.
I sat on the grass, my back to the bushy cedar hedge, and peered up at the sky. “Can you keep a secret?”
Callum laughed like that was funny, then said, “Sure.”
“So… I worked deep undercover for three months. We wrapped up the case a month ago.”
“So if Krystal had to die, this was convenient timing.” He spread his hands wide when I stared at him. “Just saying.”
“Well. I suppose so.”
“Didn’t mean to derail you.”
“I can’t tell you about the case except it was human trafficking.
Not kids, thank God, but immigrant workers, basically slave labour.
” I shifted my attention back to the arch of pale blue sky overhead.
“The people involved were a mix of amoral greed at the top and white supremacist slime at the bottom.” Flashes of the people we’d arrested, the bad and the ugly, crowded me, leaving a bitter taste.
“Sounds rough. And dangerous,” Callum suggested.
“Potentially. Yes. I was supposed to be a bodyguard for a senior detective playing the money man, so I was the white supremacist type. I shaved my head and grew out a bushy beard.”
Callum eyed me, his head tilted. “Hard to picture. I don’t think that would be your best look.”
“Hid the scar.” I touched my chin.
“So what? Anyone who cares about that scar is stupid. It doesn’t change how good you look.”
“Uh, thanks.” I felt a little flash of warmth at his words, even casually meant.
“But it’s an identifying mark, right? If I went back undercover in the same field, one slimeball might say to another, ‘We got busted by this cop with a big ugly scar like a Y on his chin,’ and they might say, ‘Hey, doesn’t the new guy have a scar like that? ’ It’s a risk.”