The tires rolled like squares until the corners warmed up. He watched the engine temperature as they drove along 6th Avenue. It nudged up above cold, beginning a slow climb as they drove west, then up the hill along Bow Trail beside the LRT tracks. By the time they reached Shaganappi Golf Course, the inside of the car was comfortably lukewarm, and they were able to open their coats.
“So, if you can stop talking, maybe I can get a word in.” Lori pointed at a coyote running across the snow-covered fairway. “Looks like he’s not feeling the cold.”
“Sorry. I’m trying to figure out what to do about my sister and her gang.” Lane glanced at the coyote as it ran with its nose out front and the tip of its tail out back.
“Doesn’t she have fifteen other kids to raise?”
“I don’t know how many kids Alison has. But I wish she would leave Christine alone. She had the kid excommunicated and washed her hands of her. I don’t get why she has to keep punishing her daughter when she’s cut her off.” Lane passed a fourteen-storey high-rise, following the curve of the road when they began a gentle climb toward Coach Hill.
“Because Christine was supposed to be learn her lesson. Instead Christine is going to school, she has a son, she’s doing just fine, and Alison can’t stand it because Christine was supposed to come crawling back. Alison wants control over Christine. But you and I both know that isn’t going to happen, so Alison has to punish her and you -” she poked Lane in the arm “- by trying to take Indiana away.”
“You think that’s what it is?” Lane looked right at Lori.
She nodded. “And because Alison is afraid.”
“That too?”
“Sure. She’s afraid of anything that doesn’t fit into her narrow little view of life, and you, my friend, definitely don’t fit into her idea of what she would call God’s plan.”
“What does she think should happen?”
Lori laughed. “You should be damned for your lifestyle, and Christine should be living a miserable life as punishment for her defiance. The opposite is happening, and it drives Alison crazy.”
Lane shook his head as they climbed the steep grade up to the top of Coach Hill, then turned right into a residential area. “What makes you so sure that’s what she’s doing?”
“My mother was the same way.” Lori turned to watch the numbers on the houses. “Donna said it was a brown two-storey with a couple of big evergreens out front.”
Lane spotted the house and parked behind a red pickup truck. “Maybe the contractor is already here.” He shut off the engine. They pulled on gloves and mitts, stepping out of the car and doing up their jackets.
“Shit, that wind is cold.” Lori led the way to the side of the two-car garage so they could get out of the wind. “Donna said to go around back to the shop.” They walked along a freshly shovelled sidewalk and around the corner of the house.
“Hang on.” Lane touched her elbow. He stepped into the snow at the side of the walk, walked in front of her, and promptly ran into a man wearing overlarge winter boots, tan cotton overalls, an open green military jacket, a toque, and a week’s worth of beard.
“Sorry, man. You here to see Donna?” the man asked.
“Yes.” Lane stepped back and onto Lori’s toe.
“Hey! These are my new boots.” Lori’s voice held the hint of a smile.
The contractor stepped around them. “I wouldn’t go in there just yet. She’s having an argument with her kid.”
Lane turned the corner and into the wind. It cut into the flesh of his nose, chin, and cheeks. He pulled up the collar of his jacket to cover his ears, turning his back to the wind. He saw Lori tuck her head down inside of her red coat. He knocked, then opened the back door.
Donna stood inside. “You are not going back to playing hockey with your team.” She wore a black dress, black tights, and a high-stepping pair of black boots. She faced a twelve-year-old boy with black hair and a white plastic brace around his neck. He wore a blue T-shirt and red sweat pants with HAWKS in white letters down one leg.
“Mom! My friends are on the team!”
“How many of those friends came to see you in the hospital? How many of those friends know you have a cracked vertebra in your neck? How close did you come to being in a wheelchair? You’re not playing fucking contact hockey anymore!”
“I wanna play in the NHL!”
Lane and Lori could hear the exasperation in Donna’s voice. “Fuck the NHL! If you survive to make it to the NHL, then what? What kind of life is that for anyone? They buy and trade you like a fucking slave! You want to be a slave?”
“Mom! You’re such a drama queen! That’s not what it’s like!”
“Look, Hansen, when you’re healed up, maybe in the fall, you can play volleyball at school.”
“Volleyball is for douches!”
“Well at least you’ll be a live douche who can use both arms and both legs!”
“I don’t care what you say! I’m gonna play hockey!” Hansen turned, stepped through the open side door, and slammed it.
Donna took a step toward the door and stopped. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. It stood in front of one of the black chairs her customers would eventually sit in. She shook her head, taking a deep breath.
Lori said, “Maybe this isn’t such a good time.”
This could be a very good time. Donna is upset and more likely to say whatever is on her mind.
Lori looked at the snow on her boots.
Donna turned, glaring at them, her back rigid with anger.
She’s wondering what else could happen today. Lane stepped inside, closing the door. They stamped their feet on a leftover patch of carpet. The room smelled of fresh paint and the adhesive used to glue linoleum to the floor. Lane looked around at two new sinks for washing hair, two new black chairs for customers to sit in. Both chairs faced large, well-lit mirrors. A hair dryer sat above another chair along the far wall. The room was painted in tasteful colours. He said, “It looks like it’s almost ready.”
“This is Detective Lane.” Lori pointed at him as she took off her gloves.
Lane offered his hand. Donna shook it. He felt the heat of her anger in the fierceness of her grip. She turned to Lori. “You’re a cop.”
“Actually I’m his secretary.” Lori smiled, pulling off her gloves and opening her coat.
Donna shook her head, chuckling. “They’ve been doing budget cuts again?”
Lori smiled. “Somebody has to keep the boys on their best behaviour.”
Lane unzipped his jacket. “I asked her to go and see you. We’re investigating the Randall and Newsome murders.”
“And you think I killed them?” Donna crossed her arms under her breasts, tapping the toe of her boot.
“Did you?” Let’s go with this and see where it leads.
Donna cocked her head to the right. “The night it happened I was in Emergency with my son.” She looked at Lori. “You got kids?”
“Three.” Lori’s fingers struggled with a stubborn button.
“You?” Donna looked at Lane.
“A niece and a nephew.” Lane watched Donna warily.
“And a baby. Don’t forget him.” Lori turned to Lane. “They all live with him and his partner.”
Donna studied Lane for a minute. “How come they’re living with you?”
“It’s a long story.” This isn’t going the way I’d hoped.
Donna waited.
What the hell. “My nephew’s mom died of cancer, and his dad started a new family. Matt needed a place to live. Then my niece ran away from Paradise.”
“That’s the polygamist community near the US border, right?” Donna asked.
Lane nodded. Don’t push her. Just take your time.
“They tried to take her baby from the hospital?”
“That’s right.”
“Read about that in the paper. I have a sister who went all religious on us. Married a guy who likes to use the Bible to keep her under his thumb. Is it like that?” Donna asked.