Shatter Page 6

  “One of the conditions of parole—I can’t have anything to do with known criminals.”

  My father stands up and paces the room while I try to process everything he just told me. Fournier, the skinny, tacky looking old man I took pictures of tonight could be the person that killed my mom and framed my dad for her murder? If it’s true, I was just feet away from the man who ruined my childhood and took away everyone I loved. All of a sudden, I feel a powerful surge accumulate in the pit of my stomach and rise up through my chest. If this man, Fournier, is guilty, I’ll kill him. I will take from him what he took from me, everything. This time, I don’t run to the bathroom to cry because this time my tears aren’t of sadness. They’re of rage.

  “Dad, sit with me. Stop making yourself more infuriated. We need to talk about this.”

  Dad reluctantly sits in the chair in front of the couch, fidgeting with his hands. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jules. As soon as I saw his picture, I knew it in my heart that the sonofabitch was involved with what happened.”

  “I believe you,” I say. “But we can’t just go busting into his bar and hope that he confesses to murder. That’s not going to happen. What we need is a strategy, a plan.”

  “Like what?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve been a P.I for exactly two days. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t qualify me for detective. The only thing I can think of is to find Allen, the missing teen and notify his parents. If he’s involved with a dealer of Fournier’s magnitude, he’s in over his head. Secondly, I need to locate Slinky and find out the truth about what happened the night Mom was killed. He might even know things about Fournier that can incriminate him, who knows?”

  “If Slinky is in fact still around and not dead, he may be able to tell us what happened at the apartment that night, but he sure the hell won’t help us go up against Fournier. He knows better.”

  “But Slinky was yours and mom’s friend, right? Wouldn’t he want to see Fournier go down for what he did to her?”

  “It doesn’t work like that, baby girl. Addicts are drug minded. They can be loyal one minute and stab you in the back the next. It’s nothing personal. It’s just survival.”

  “Sounds like a pretty fucked-up way to go through life.”

  “It was.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lying in my bed, I hear faint whimpers from my father room. I feel badly for him, but I know him well enough to know that he wants to be left alone.

  I need to sleep and rest my mind, so I’m sharp, but all I can think about is Fournier and how to make him suffer. I reflect on the chain of events that has possibly led me to my mother’s killer. I guess everything really does happen for a reason.

  My cell rings on the nightstand. I lean over and see Katie’s name. As much as I like her, right now I’m consumed by feelings of revenge and resentment. It’s probably not the best time to talk to anyone. The call goes to voicemail. Maybe I shouldn’t be having anything to do with her anyway. She’s a great girl. Even my baby sister loved her. Is it right for me to drag her into my messed-up life? She could do a lot better than me.

  A few minutes later, the message tone beeps. Grabbing the phone, I see her text. “Hey sexy, just wondering what you’re doing. I had a great night with you, even the car tailing was fun. Did you look at the pictures on your phone yet? Anything helpful to your case? Hope so. Anyways, just thought I would text cuz I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been reminiscing about that kiss. Call me or text me. The phone is by my head.” Katie.

  I draw in a deep breath then sigh, she really is amazing. Still, if I really do care about her, I’d protect her and let her go.

  * * *

  It’s morning. My father bangs on the bedroom door, “I’m leaving, Jules.”

  I holler back, “Where to?”

  “Parole office and then to the job search place. I’ll see you later.”

  I stay in bed until I know he’s left then go to the kitchen for coffee. There’s a note on the counter, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should just let sleeping dogs lie. Forget Fournier, we have each other. That’s all that matters now.”

  Sweet words, Dad, but fuck that. I’m not letting that drug dealing piece of shit get away with ruining our lives. I crumple the note and toss it into the garbage.

  Today, I’m going to get shit done with the case I’m working on. I’m not going to fuck around anymore. Jason had a no bullshit approach to doing this work, and so will I. It’s time to get serious.

  I spend the morning thinking up a plan of attack for the day. I’m going to wait until noon and then go to Fournier’s pub. I’ll buy a drink or two for one of the regulars and then show them Allen’s picture. If one of the guys we saw last night was him, he’s probably been there before. Someone is sure to recognize him. I’ll just have to be careful that I don’t stand out too much. I don’t want to alert Fournier that I’m snooping around.

  I dress down in blue jeans, a baseball cap and a jean jacket. I don’t even put on make up

  * * *

  Once inside the bar, I stop and let my eyes adjust. There’s a large pool table in the middle of the room. A long bar runs half the length of the pub and small rickety tables are placed throughout. The bartender looks like a bushman. He’s got a huge barrel belly and a long red straggly mustache and beard. He’s been watching me since I came in. Then, I zone in on two old men sitting at a table in the back corner. Casually, I walk across the stained red carpet and sit at a nearby table. I strike up a conversation with the old guys who seem happy to engage with me as we talk about the weather and other meaningless things. Every time I look over at the bar, the bushman is looking my way. When the waitress comes over, I buy the men a round of draft. After an hour, I casually tell them that I’m looking for my little brother, Allen. I describe him to them.

  One of the men asks if I have a picture? When I pass the photo to them, they look long and hard before telling me they don’t recognize him. Then, one of the old codgers tells me, “There’s a lot of youngsters coming and going from this place. It’s hard to tell one from another.” Interesting, but not a news flash. If Fournier is still a dealer, which I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be, then, he probably has a lot of young people pushing dope for him. With the bartender becoming more interested in me, I decide to hit the trail.

  Just as I’m walking towards the entrance, the front door opens and the three young guys from the parking lot last night walk in. Now that I’m closer, I immediately recognize Allen’s face. The three walk up to the bar and sit on stools. The bartender leans over and speaks quietly to them then picks up a red phone that’s attached to the wall. I slow my pace as I walk past them. When the bartender hangs up the phone, he leads them to a red door at the back of the room. When it opens, they enter and the door shuts. I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to call Allen’s parents. I don’t want to call the cops, considering what I know about Fournier. The bartender walks through the red door and behind the bar. He looks at me. “Can I help you with something?” he sneers.

  “Umm…yeah. I was wondering if you sell food here?”

  He points to a small flyer size menu on the counter. I walk up and sit on a stool. After I order a burger and onion rings, I tell the bartender that I’ll be right back and then head to the washroom. I quickly go into a stall and lock the door behind me. My hands are shaking, as I fumble through my wallet and find Allen’s mother’s number. I quickly punch her digits into my phone. Thankfully, she answers on the first ring. Just then, I hear the bathroom door open and close. I barely give Amanda Caulfield time to respond after I whisper that I found her son and where she can find him. When I come out of the stall, the waitress is standing at the mirror pretending to finger brush her hair. Her eyes look suspiciously at mine. She was listening to me. Shit. I walk past her and exit the washroom. I take a seat on the stool and watch as the waitress calls the bartender to the opposite end of the counter. As she speaks, she looks at me. Fuck. This isn’t good. My heart is pound
ing and my legs are shaking.

  After fifteen minutes of sitting and wondering what to do next, a portly woman holding a hamburger on a plate, walks out of a door behind the bar and hands the burger to the bartender. He walks it over to me without saying anything and sets it down. I lift up the top bun and look at the sawdust patty. Who the fuck would eat this? I grab the ketchup off the counter and dump some on the burger. The bartender walks around the waitress and knocks on the red door. When the door opens, I see him—it’s Fournier. The bartender says something to him and they both look at me. After a few minutes, the three young guys appear at the red door from behind Fournier. They all talk quietly for about ten minutes and then the three young men walk toward the exit. Just by the way they are looking at me, I can tell that they know I’m looking for Allen. The three slowly pass me and stare. I’m so busted. When they’re just about at the exit, the front door opens and I see Amanda and an officer walk in. I see the horror and shock on Allen’s face—he knows the game is up. My guess is that he probably got hooked on dope after buying it from the Mercedes guy. Then, when getting high became more important to him than going to school, he started selling. I’m sure that when he gets home, his parents will have his ass shipped off to rehab before he gets his shoes off.

  I don’t wait to see what happens in the pub. Instead, I throw a ten-dollar bill on the counter for my inedible slop and leave. Sitting in my truck, I text Ed, “First case solved, kid found.” I actually feel proud of myself, not an emotion I’m used to. A part of me wants to call Katie and tell her the good news, but I can’t. I promised myself that I would let her go. I’ve got to stay the course on that. It’s for her own good. Still, I can’t help wondering what she must be feeling? I haven’t responded to any of her attempts at communicating with me.

  * * *

  Dad is on the couch when I get home, “Hi, kid. How’s your day so far?”

  “Great. Yours?”

  “Pretty great, too,” he says smiling.

  “Why? What’s so great?” I ask.

  “I got a job today.”

  “Really?” I say excitedly.

  “Yep. It’s only a few days a week, but it’s a job.”

  “That’s wonderful, Dad. Where will you be working?”

  “Well, it’s not the most sophisticated place, that’s for sure, but I’ve been hired on at a bottle depot.”

  “That’s awesome. You’ve just gotten out of the clink and you’re already working. I’d say you are kicking ass and taking names.”

  He smiles. “So, what about you? You said you are having a great day too? Why is that?”

  “I solved my first case today.”

  A look of pride radiates through his smile, as he stands up and hugs me, “That’s my tiger. I knew you had it in you.”

  * * *

  We take the passenger ferry to Granville Island and spend the rest of the afternoon walking around the market and looking at the boats in the marina. It’s such a beautiful day.

  “I wish Mom and Abby were here with us,” I say.

  My dad smiles and says, “They are, sweetie. They are.”

  In the market, we pass the meat counter. I’d love to buy us ribeye steaks for dinner, but my bank account is almost dry. We’ll have to settle for whatever is in the cupboards at the apartment. I can tell by the way he’s checking out the food that Dad is thinking the same thing. “When I get my first pay cheque, Jules, we’re coming back here to load up on some primo grub.”

  “Deal,” I say, winking.

  * * *

  After our afternoon of bonding, we’re back home. I grab the remote and sit down. I’m just about to turn on the TV when I get a text message. It’s Ed. “Congratulations on a job well done, Jules. Come by the office tomorrow morning to pick up your cheque.”

  Very cool, my first pay as a P.I. I’m not expecting very much money, as I’m still learning the ropes. However, it would be nice to shoot Jason a few bucks for letting me stay at the apartment, especially since I have my dad here too. After watching a couple of movies and dining on KD from the cupboard, it’s bedtime. I’m not sure if it is because of all that clean sea air I breathed in today or because of the emotional impact from wrapping up the case, but I’m so tired that my head barely hits the pillow before I fall asleep.

  * * *

  This morning, with Dad off to work, I jump in the truck and head to the office. When I arrive, Ed is on the phone, as usual. With a bit more confidence, I sit down across from him. I hear him tell the person on the other end of the phone that he will be sure to thank Jules for them. When he hangs up, he smiles, “That was Amanda Caulfield. She said that her son is due to go into treatment for his cocaine addiction tomorrow. She wanted me to extend her thanks to you.”

  I nod, feeling proud.

  Still looking at me, he pulls open a desk drawer and then slides me a cheque. Please let it be worth at least a few hundred. I really need the cash, though, if I tally the hours that I worked on solving the case, my hopes may be a little ambitious. Not wanting to seem too eager, I fold the cheque without looking at it. Ed tells me that there’s no new cases in the books but something new should come up fast. It always does. “Just be ready,” he says. When his phone rings, I stand up, wave and walk out.

  * * *

  Back in the truck, I unfold the cheque. When I see the amount, I freeze. There must be some mistake. Ed must have written the amount out wrong. Five thousand dollars? There’s no way I earned this much money in just a few short days. Maybe Ed is just yanking my chain, I mean…Jason has a great sense of humor, maybe his dad does too. I’m sure this is some sort of initiation into the company joke. I pick up my phone and dial the office. Ed answers immediately.

  “Ed, you’re very funny. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “What are you going on about?” He says.

  “Oh, come on, Ed. The cheque? I get the joke. As if you would hand me a cheque for five grand.”

  He breaks into laughter, “It’s no joke. The client paid well because they wanted fast results. It was a special case. You are right; it’s rare to get that big of a hit your first time out. Not every cheque you get will be for that amount, so spend wisely.”

  “You mean, it’s not a joke?”

  “No,” he says, still chuckling. “It’s not.”

  “No way. This is crazy. I feel like I just won the lottery or something. I can’t believe it.”

  “Some cases are harder than others. The one you just solved could have been very dangerous. Not everyone would put themselves at risk like you did. You earned the money.”

  He says goodbye and I drive to my bank.

  After depositing the cheque and pulling out a couple hundred, I head home to wait for Dad. When I get through the door and take off my jacket, I pull my phone out of my pocket and notice a missed call from Katie, instantly my heart sinks. I’ve got to keep myself busy until she tires of trying to reach me and the calls stop. With a few more hours until Dad gets home, I decide to go to the pool for a swim. After I put my things in a locker, I walk out into the pool area. A guy in his thirties is doing laps. He has short black hair and an athletic build. He briefly stops and looks up at me when I enter the water, “Hey,” he says, before continuing swimming. I pick the far side of the pool to dive and swim.

  My muscles immediately feel strained. I don’t get as much time in the water when I’m away from my summer job in Halfmoon Bay. There, I spend countless hours flipping my kayak and swimming to help clients get in or out of their boats. It can be a real pain in the ass taking care of novice kayakers, but I wouldn’t quit that job for all the money in the world. Being in nature and away from the cement jungle of Vancouver, I always feel healthier and more connected to myself. I’d love to move there one day, maybe start my own adventure guide business.

  The swimmer finishes doing laps and jumps out of the pool and sits on the ledge, “Do you live here?” he asks in a friendly voice.

  “No, I just walk
around Yaletown in my swimsuit until I find water.”

  “Oh, she’s pretty and funny?”

  Oh great. Not this.

  “Give me a break. I’m just trying to be neighborly,” he says, smiling.

  “Yes. I live here, at least for the time being. I’m staying in a friend’s suite while they’re away.”

  “You’re very pretty. What’s your name?”

  “Lesbian, and yours?”

  His eyes widen and his smile fades a little.

  “My name is Jules, and yours?”

  “It’s Shayne. Nice to meet you Jules,” he says, less enthusiastically than before.

  “Well, I guess I’d better go,” he says, standing up. “See you around.”

  Gee, was it something I said? I laugh to myself.

  Finally, alone in the pool, I do as many laps as I can before heading to the jacuzzi. When my hands start turning prune like and wrinkly, I decide it’s time to head back to the apartment.

  I have a quick shower and get changed. As soon as I walk into the front room, I hear keys in the lock. Dad walks in looking tired but satisfied. “Hey kid, how are you?”

  “Oh, I’d say I’m pretty fucking great, actually.”

  “Jules, honey. Don’t say that word so much. You’re better than that.”

  “Ok. Ok. Whatever. Anyways, I have something to tell you, but first, how was day one on the job?”

  “It lacks stimulation,” he laughs, “It’s repetitive as heck, but it’s a job and it feels pretty good to be earning honest money.”

  “That’s great, Dad. Speaking of money, you’re not going to believe what I got paid for solving that case.”