Lane closed his eyes. “Or he’s made himself into a joke.”
“You okay?”
“Just tired. Arthur’s on his way. He’ll pick me up, drive me home, and let the kids interrogate me.” Lane smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“Chief Simpson sent me down to check on you and Saliba. You know it has to be this way until the investigation is over?” Harper glanced at the floor.
“I understand, believe me.”
“The bomb was meant for you and Saliba?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Lane’s mind moved into crisp, sharp focus.
“Any idea who?” Harper asked.
“Yes. There are two possibilities. Either it’s connected to the disappearance of Andelko Branimir, or it’s related to the threats against Keely. And I’m convinced that threat comes from inside the department.”
“A cop?”
“Almost certainly. The letters, the pipe bomb, and the lack of physical evidence all point in that direction.”
“How’s Arthur doing? Erinn and I heard about the cancer.”
Lane shrugged. “Lori told you?”
Harper nodded.
“Surgery is on Friday.”
MONDAY, AUGUST 27
chapter 13
Lane sat across from Dr. Alexandre. Both sipped their coffees.
“Isn’t a psychiatrist supposed to serve soothing tea?” Lane asked.
“You’re getting your sense of humour back.” Alexandre set her coffee down and smoothed her skirt. “To answer your question, I enjoy coffee. So do you.”
“You continue to do your homework, then?”
“Of course. I don’t like to go into a session knowing nothing about the patient. And this patient…” Alexandre closed her eyes and touched her forehead for effect. “…was recently involved in an accident.” She looked at the ceiling as if asking for guidance from a supreme being, “In fact, I would hazard a guess that you’ve been too close to the light in your recent past.”
“Very impressive. What tipped you off?”
Alexandre smiled for the first time. “I listen to the news, and you have the beginnings of some bruising on the side of your face. Also, you’re moving carefully, like your entire body is hurting.”
Lane nodded.
“How is your partner?” Alexandre asked. “I mean your detective partner.”
“She got eight stitches for a scalp wound. I’ll go and visit her after this.” Lane frowned.
“Do you know who set off the device?” Alexandre asked.
“Not yet.” Lane heard his voice change.
“So you’re on the hunt?”
“I guess so.” So that’s what this is called. It is as primal as that. I’m a hunter.
“Last visit, we talked about you being punished for saving your brother.”
Lane took a long breath. “Just like my last major case, which involved two sisters. The stepfather abused the older sister, named Maddy. Her younger sibling was about to be abused. We got the father. The sisters are okay. Or at least, they’re healing. My reward was being put under investigation for the loss of a firearm.”
“Anything else?”
“When my father was dying, he forgot about the recent past and only remembered me as a child. He accepted me all over again, and then he died. Now my brother and his wife want to sweep me back into the closet, get me to sign away any claim to my childhood, and disappear. I risked my life at the river to save my brother Joseph. When I think back on it, I was the one in the family who was drowning. It started to bother me again after Maddy’s stepfather tried to pull out his gun. It triggered memories of the day my brother almost drowned. There’s a moment when you either act or you don’t. I saved Joseph’s life. I saved a child and her older sister. I couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly persona non grata. Before those two experiences, I never understood the statement, ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ Being punished for doing my job. Being punished for saving Joseph’s life. Being excommunicated from my family. Seeing my father after so many years. Having my own family. Having to do the work I do.” Lane stopped. Why am I running off at the mouth like this?
“Okay then. Are you tired of feeling sorry for yourself?”
And you call yourself a doctor?! Lane opened his mouth, but closed it when he saw the doctor smiling for a second time.
“Sometimes depression can be the absence of emotion. It’s like eating bland food. It tastes neither wonderful nor terrible. It simply tastes like nothing.”
Lane snorted. “Then anger is a sign of healing?”
“In this case, I’d say so.” The doctor reached for her coffee.
Lane saw her Adam’s apple. “What’s it like?”
The doctor sat back in her chair and held the coffee with both hands in front of her, as if to fend off Lane’s question. “What’s what like?”
“You know, juggling past, present, job, and family?”
Alexandre thought for a moment. “That’s the trick, isn’t it? Learning how to juggle it all.” She set the coffee down. “Speaking of juggling, how are things on the home front?”
“Arthur has breast cancer. It looks like the surgery will be at the end of the week.”
She studied him. “You really are juggling right now. What’s the prognosis?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“We need to start thinking about having the whole family in for a session when Arthur is back on his feet.”
Lane knocked on the door of the two-storey, sand-coloured condo where Keely and her family were staying. In his other hand was a tray with three cups of coffee.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Lane.”
The door opened wide enough for Amir to see him. “Come in.” Amir looked past Lane and shut the door.
“How’s Keely feeling?” Lane asked.
Amir pointed down the hall. “In the kitchen.”
Lane walked down the hall and set the coffees on the table. He looked sideways at Keely, who sat near the window. The right side of her face was beginning to bruise. Another bruise and a series of stitches were visible along her scalp line.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Keely said.
Lane handed one cup to her and one to Amir, who sat down beside his daughter. Lane took a sip from his cup and watched her. “Where does it hurt?” He smiled and winced.
She smiled back and grimaced. “You know as well as I do that it hurts everywhere.”
“I’m going to talk with Fibre. You want to come?” Lane asked.
Amir said, “Kharra alhek.”
Keely held up her hand, “Let me finish my coffee, then I’ll get ready. Dad, it’s rude to say ‘Shit on you’ to Lane.”
Amir didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed. “The doctor says she needs to rest!”
“It’s okay, dad – we’re just going to talk with a guy who can give us some answers. There’s no danger involved.” Keely set her coffee down. “I’m gonna get dressed.”
Amir said, “Majnoon.”
“Dad. Look at me. This is my decision, not his.” Keely hugged her father. “By the way, Lane’s not crazy, and I’ll be careful.” She made her way to her bedroom and closed the door.
“What happened to your last partner? Did he get killed?” Amir asked.
Lane kept his tone matter-of-fact and didn’t smile, even though he wanted to. “He’s the acting deputy police chief.”
Amir went to reply and stopped. He looked thoughtfully at Lane. They drank their coffees in silence for ten minutes.
Keely opened her bedroom door and went to the bathroom.
Amir finished his coffee. “Keely said you stayed with her in the car until the fire department got you out.”
“She was bleeding and my door was up against a guardrail. I didn’t want to move her in case there were other injuries.” Stick to the facts, Lane thought.
“She said you just talked to her.”