“That’s the difference between you and me,” Lane said.
“What? I believe in God and you don’t?”
“I just think people are responsible for most of the terrible things done in this world,” Lane said.
“So you have given the good Lord some consideration?” Martha sounded triumphant.
“Of course.”
“Go ahead. Say it,” Martha said.
“Say what?” Lane asked.
“That you’ll give yourself over to the Lord. Become his servant.”
Lane looked at Martha as if seeing her for the first time. He wondered what was godlike about abandoning your brother and being blissfully unaware of the resultant damage. It had been twenty years since most of Arthur’s family had washed their hands of him. Lane had seen how their cruel rejections had scarred Arthur.
“Just be careful you don’t run out of time before you give God a chance,” Martha said.
Lane said nothing. He was afraid that all the anger over what had been done to Arthur would come crashing out.
Martha said, “I’ve got time to convince you. I know this cancer won’t kill me. God told me.”
The house was quiet except for the spluttering of the coffee machine. Lane was on the phone a little after seven-thirty. Loraine was an old friend and a child psychologist hired by the police in cases like this where a minor witnessed a crime.
“Hello.” Loraine sounded like she was sipping a drink.
“It’s Lane,” he said.
“I’m going to phone around eight o’clock and arrange a time with Jay and Cole. Do you want to be there?” she asked.
“It’s not a problem?” Lane wondered how Cole would respond to having a detective there.
Loraine read his mind. “You’re a familiar face. He may trust you. I need you there.”
Lane said, “Call me with a time, please. Is Lisa there?”
“Just a minute. It’s for you, honey.” Loraine set the phone down.
Lisa picked it up. “Lane?”
“I’ve got a question about the Reddie crime scene,”
Lane said.
“I hear you found the car,” Lisa said.
“Yes. Finally, a break. About the campsite. Were you able to find any footprints?” Lane asked.
“A couple of partials. Bobbie and Charles had similar shoe sizes. The partials were indistinct, but I do have photographs. What have you got?” Lisa asked.
“Footprints from a crime scene in Jamaica. Three deaths at a resort. It’s confirmed that Bobbie was there at the time,” Lane said.
“Can you send me copies?” Lisa asked.
“Yes. Why?” Lane asked.
“We’ve got a guy working on footprinting. He’s good. He might be able to tell you more than you’d thought possible.”
“Are we talking smoking gun?” Lane asked.
“Perhaps,” Lisa said.
“When they arrive, I’ll get Harper to send a copy your way. Thanks, Lisa,” he said.
“Lane?”
“Yes,” Lane said.
“If you’re right, you’ve got at least five deaths attributed to this individual. I’d be very careful,” Lisa said.
“It may be as many as seven,” Lane said.
“All the more reason to be careful,” Lisa said.
Lane’s next call was to Harper.
“Hello, Lane,” Harper said.
“You’re psychic,” Lane said.
“Caller ID. Old technology,” Harper said.
“When the footprints come in, make copies and send them to Lisa. You’ve got her number?” Lane said.
“Yep. You goin’ to see the kid?” Harper asked.
“You need to be there too. We need a recording,”
Lane said.
“I’m on it. What time?”
“Be ready and I’ll call you,” Lane said.
“Right.” Harper hung up.
The phone rang before Lane could call to see if Jay and Cole were up.
“Hello?” Lane said.
Chief said, “It’s me.”
“Good morning,” Lane said.
“Bring me up to speed.”
“The car, which may have transported Kaylie Reddie’s body to the crime scene, is being analyzed now. We may be able to prove that its contents have been undisturbed. Footprints from the Jamaica crime scene are set to arrive today and copies will be sent for RCMP analysis. A psychologist is standing by to interview Cole Reddie. Some of the evidence might offer a plausible explanation for the anomalies at the crime scene. So, we have the potential for a strong case against Bobbie Reddie,” Lane said.
Chief’s anger was barely under control.
“Unfortunately, we can’t take potential to court. We may need to have overwhelming proof. Did you hear Ms. Reddie’s radio show yesterday?”
“No,” Lane said.
“She is doing her best to create a public uproar over her son being in police custody. I’ve got a press conference in two hours,” she said.
“We need Bobbie to provide copies of her footprints,” Lane said.
Chief asked, “How many murders might be attributed to Ms. Reddie?”
“Seven,” Lane said.
“Go through it again for me,” she said.
“Bobbie’s parents, the three victims in Jamaica, Kaylie and Charles Reddie,” Lane said.
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” Lane said.
Chief asked, “The footprints will tie Ms. Reddie to three deaths?”
“Perhaps as many as five. There are partial footprints from the Charles and Kaylie Reddie crime scene,” Lane said.
“Good. I’ll request that Ms. Reddie voluntarily present herself for footprinting in order to eliminate herself in the investigation of the three deaths in Jamaica,” she said.
“Taking the offensive?” Lane asked.
“I think it’s time. We’ve been taking it from Ms.
Reddie. Now it’s our turn. There is a problem, however.”
“What’s that?” Lane asked.
“If you are correct in your suspicions, then we may be pushing a multiple murderer into a corner,” she said.
“So far, her reactions have been very predictable,”
Lane said.
“What do you mean?”
“She either bullies, manipulates or plays the victim,” Lane said.
Chief said, “You’re forgetting that she kills.”
“No, I’m not,” Lane said.
“Good, because we have a reliable source who disclosed that Ms. Reddie knows where you live. Bobbie was tipped by a caller and a guest. Our source made a point of warning me to watch out for you.”
“What else do you know?” Lane asked.
“That I’ve never experienced more pressure than I have with this case. The more pressure we get, the more I’m convinced you’re on to something.”
“We’ll keep on it,” Lane said.
“And you’ll listen to the news conference?”
“I will,” Lane said.
“So, where are the footprints?” Lane asked.
They sat in their Chevy outside the condominium where Jay and Cole were staying. The complex was located close to the river. Across the water, the banks rose to a bluff. Douglas firs grew up the steep bank helping to keep it stabilized and green year-round.
“As soon as it arrives at the station, we get a call,”
Harper said. “It’s on the way.”
“Loraine’s been inside at least an hour,” Lane said.
Harper sipped his coffee. “At least the coffee’s good.
Since I partnered with you, I haven’t had a bad cup of coffee. Are you all ready for Halloween?”
“Halloween?” Lane asked.
“Don’t tell me.” Harper looked at Lane like he had forgotten to put on a pair of pants.
“It’s tomorrow night?” The look on Lane’s face told Harper all he needed to know.
“Arthur’s got it covered, right?”
“I sure hope so,” Lane said.
“Probably won’t be too many kids. That storm is supposed to hit by noon. They’re forecasting fifteen to twenty centimetres of snow,” Harper said.