The Defilers. Deborah Gyapong

passing this building, which was on a back road to Sterling. Its big plate glass windows were now boarded up. The defence summary said the police had found no evidence to link the children to this Pizza House. Not a fibre, not a hair, not a drop of blood.

      The prosecutor declared Becky’s mom Cindy, a former prostitute and alcoholic, a hostile witness. The children’s statements to police differed wildly from their video interviews. The judge had no choice but to throw the case out of court.

      I noted the names of the officers. Of course Will Bright was one of them. The other officer was Corporal Earl Broadfoot who was no longer at the detachment.

      The phone rang. Catherine. She pleaded with me to come over to stay with Grace so she could go to dinner at George Hall’s. I knew she wanted to see Rafe, and that made me annoyed and uncomfortable. On the other hand I was ready for something to eat, and Catherine’s fridge would be full of goodies. And any time with Grace was precious to me. So, I set my uneasiness aside, rounded up some files to read after Grace fell asleep, and headed next door.

      Grace and I played checkers and watched “The Simpsons.” I helped myself to leftovers in the fridge and later made microwave popcorn. We curled up on the den couch together under an afghan made of brightly coloured squares. When she fell asleep I carried her to bed.

      I read more trial transcripts from an unwieldy stack of copies until I dozed off. When I awoke at 2:03 a.m. Catherine still wasn’t home. Uncertain whether to be worried or angry, I picked up the phone on the end table to make sure an extension hadn’t been left off the hook by accident. Dial tone. I threw some more wood into the stove in the kitchen, banked the stove in the den, and closed down the dampers. Then headlights swept the front hall and car tires crunched the gravel in the laneway. I walked over to the window and saw Catherine’s Toyota wagon roll to a stop by the back door.

      I folded the afghan on the couch, gathered up my files, and reached the kitchen just as Catherine stepped through the back door carrying her boots and grinning.

      I didn’t grin back. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. I was worried about you.”

      “Sorry to be so late, but, oh, Linda, I had such a good time. Please don’t be mad!”

      “Why didn’t you call?” I opened the door to the mud room and took my jacket off the hook.

      “I tried to call – I meant to call you when I left George’s. I ended up going for a drive with Rafe. Then we stopped and talked. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

      Catherine laughed. She smelled of wine and cigarettes. “Come on, let’s have a nightcap. I want to tell you what happened.”

      “Tell me tomorrow.” My coat on, I scooped up the files and headed home.

      “I really am sorry,” she called after me, sounding like she really meant it. But I didn’t have the stomach for hearing her swoon over Rafe.

      When I unlocked my back door the phone was ringing. I hung up my jacket and took off my boots, in no hurry to answer in case it was Catherine. Let her stew. It continued to ring. I padded into the kitchen on sock feet, flicked on the ceiling light, and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

      “Hello, Constable Donner?” asked a resonant male voice on a line full of static.

      “Who is this?” I glanced at my watch. Two-seventeen a.m.

      “David Jordan. Sorry to call so late, but I’ve been trying to reach you all evening. I want to report someone missing.”

      “Why are you calling me?”

      “Remember the woman you saw running into the woods the other day? Becky’s mom? She never came back that afternoon to pick up her daughter. She’s gone missing.”

      “Not much I can do right now. You can go in tomorrow and file a missing person report.” My colleagues would already be looking for Cindy since her cabin had been roped off. What was David up to in calling me? How did he get my unlisted number?

      “Can you meet me tomorrow?”

      “What for?”

      “I can’t talk about it over the phone.”

      I considered for a moment whether it was wise given Karen’s explicit orders to take days off. But no one besides me considered David a suspect, so I arranged to meet him at Cornwallis Cove Baptist Church in the morning when the service ended.

      I had to get to the bottom of this.

      Chapter 9: The Conflict

      Later that night I awakened in a strangely paralyzed state. When I tried to move, my body lay motionless. I tried to cry out, but no sound came out of my mouth. My heart pounded like a jackhammer, but I still couldn’t move. I sensed the same hideous shadows that had terrified me in the woods when I found Rex’s corpse. Finally, a little croak came out of my throat. I sat up, sweating, and turned on the light on the night table. My light blue duvet, the spare lines of the natural birch chest of drawers, and the newly sanded floors assured me I was home, and safe.