Queen's Park

Friday, August 11
CHAPTER 27

“What do I do about the TV crew parked outside?” Beth used the phone in her kitchen.

“Your niece gone yet?” Lane said.

“In the shower. Her taxi’ll be here any minute.”

“What about Ernie?”

“Just got up. Watching TV. He’s got a blank look on his face. It scares me. The doctor said he needs rest and regular meals. We have to wait six weeks for an appointment with some specialist. How can we live like this for six weeks?”

Can he handle what Randy will have to say? Lane thought. “We’ll be there in five minutes. We’ll handle the TV crew.”

“The car’s all packed. The lawyer told me to lock up the house and leave it. He’ll take care of the rest.”

“Good.”

“Just have to give Miguel a call,” Beth said.

“What?”

“I’ve left it to last for a reason.”

“But -,” It’s too important to leave to the last, Lane thought.

“He won’t be able to talk me out of it now. The decision’s made.” She looked at the wall where the picture of her mother and father had hung. It was packed away in a suitcase in the trunk of the Dodge.

“I’ll call when we get there,” Lane said.

“Thanks.” Beth hung up.

Lisa was singing in the shower. “LEAVIN’ ON A JET PLANE.” The words to the song stopped when she gargled.

Beth reached into the watch pocket of her jeans, pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it. She tapped a series of numbers.

The phone rang twice before an exotic female voice said, “Miguel Rapozo’s Tunisia office.”

“Connect me with Miguel. Please.” She thought, It’s way after office hours over there.

“I’m sorry. Miguel, I mean Mr. Rapozo, is in a meeting. Can I take a message?”

“It’s a family emergency,” Beth said.

“DON’T KNOW WHEN I’LL BE BACK AGAIN,” Lisa sang.

“Another one?” The secretary’s tone was a mixture of skepticism, condescension and sarcasm.

“That’s correct,” Beth said.

“A moment.”

Beth patted her pocket, checking for car keys and the envelope. Inside the envelope were two thousand dollar bills and a note explaining that Lisa’s one-way plane ticket was paid for in cash. That was all. No warning that the lawyer was sending a copy of the will. No hint that the inevitable accusatory phone call from Judy would remain unanswered. By that time Beth and Ernie would be gone. She realized the note might well be their final contact. Beth felt a combination of release and regret. Just Ernie, Scout and Beth. All that was left of her family. And she knew, for the first time, how Ernesto must have felt after the death of his wife.

“Hello?” Miguel was angry.

“Miguel.” Beth felt angry at having to beg.

“Yep.”

“Ernie’s sick. We’re moving into Nonno’s house. You can reach him there,” Beth said.

“You sure that’s wise?” Miguel said.

Sure I’m sure, she thought, Do you think I’d come crawling to you if I wasn’t sure? Instead she said, “Yes.”

“All right, then.”

“And we’re going to be needing the van,” Beth said.

“Up to you,” Miguel said.

She heard the dismissal in his tone of voice. That had been the way of it. It was up to her to take care of their son, up to her to make the funeral arrangements, up to her to turn a blind eye to his affairs. Always, up to her. “Goodbye,”

she said.

She went upstairs to the door of her Mother’s room. The bed was a confused mass of pillows and rumpled sheets. Lisa’s denim purse perched at the foot of the mattress. The purse was open. Pink sanitary napkins and wads of thousand dollar bills lay side by side. What the hell is Lisa doing with all that money? Beth thought.

“LEAVINNNNN ON A JET PLANE!”

Beth thought, Why is she waiting for an inheritance when she has all of that money? She shook her head as she moved past the bathroom to Ernie’s door.

All the packing had been done after two this morning while Lisa snored. Beth had just finished at four AM when Ernie screamed himself awake.

Beth thought, Where did all of that money come from?

The shower stopped.

Beth moved for the stairway. She checked to see if she was about to trip over the oxygen line snaking its way up the stairs and into her Mother’s room. You don’t need to do that anymore, she thought.

The carpet on the stairs rubbed the soles of her feet like a memory.

The sound of the television greeted her as she stepped off the bottom stair. “Orangutans have no need for human contact.” In the background there was the grunting of an ape.

“PBS,” Beth said to herself. Ernie stayed on the safe channels. One naturalist program after another. Lisa, on the other hand, spent every waking moment watching the news and interrogating Beth.

Beth stepped into the family room. Ernie sat in the easy chair with blank eyes staring at the screen. Scout was next to him. Her eyes were closed while both ears stayed erect and alert.

“Ernie?” Beth said.

He looked at her. Scout’s eyes opened.

“We’re leaving right after Lisa,” Beth said.

Ernie smiled.

She looked at his belt. It was cinched two notches in from the old line worn across the leather. How much more weight will he lose in a week? she thought.

The doorbell rang.

Scout barked and bounded for the front door.

Beth followed, reached the door and peered through the peephole. The man in the fish eye had on a white shirt, tie and jacket. She opened the door part way. Scout growled.

“Taxi,” the man said.

“She’ll be right out.”

“Been waitin’ five minutes already,” the driver said.

“Sorry.” Beth shut and locked the door. “Lisa, the taxi’s here.”

“ALREADY?”

“It’s been here for five minutes,” she said.

“I HEARD THAT!”

Beth cursed under her breath, “Bull shit.” Bent low, holding Scout’s collar, she walked to the family room. “Ernie, take care of the dog.” Scout jumped up and licked his face.

At the back door, Beth lifted Lisa’s blue bag. “Try traveling light, Lisa.” She unlocked the back door and opened the screen. She took quick short steps down the driveway where concrete burned the soles of her feet. Looking beyond the black taxi, she saw the van with V CHANNEL stenciled on the hood. Beth heard the van’s door slide open when she stepped to the back of the taxi. Using both hands, she heaved Lisa’s bag into the trunk.

Hopping off the pavement, onto the sidewalk and then the cooler grass, Beth looked across the street. A man backed out of the van’s side door. The driver’s door opened.

Ralph Devine raised an arm and pointed at her, “Ms. Rapozo, a moment of your time.”

She turned and, in spite of panic and the burning concrete, walked at a steady pace, stepped through the gate and closed it behind.

“You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later!” Devine said.

Beth stepped inside the house, making sure to lock the inside door. “Lisa!”

“WHAT!” Lisa stood in the hallway with wet, straight hair. She rummaged through her denim purse. “WHERE’S MY TICKET?”

Beth kept her voice free of any sarcasm, “It’s in your hand.”

“NO WAY!” Lisa glared back before glancing at the ticket in her left hand. “OH.”

“Taxi’s waiting,” Beth said.

“I KNOW!” Lisa pushed past in a cloud of peach perfume. The scent caught at the back of Beth’s throat. She

reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope addressed to Judy. “This is for your mother.”

Lisa turned, spied the envelope and snatched it. “MY INHERITANCE!” She stuffed the ticket into her bag.

Beth watched, knowing what would happen next.

Lisa ripped the envelope in half. Peering into one half, she reached in and pulled out half of two $1000 bills. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS MONEY INSIDE?”

“It’s for your mom.” Beth pushed the fingers of her right hand through her hair.

“THAT’S ALL?” Lisa peered into the other half of the envelope.

“More than you deserve.” The words were out before Beth could think.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! AFTER ALL THAT’S HAPPENED TO ME, I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”

“Believe it, sweetie.” Beth crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

“I’M NEVER COMING BACK HERE!” Lisa turned toward the back door. She jammed her feet into red open toed shoes with seven centimeter heals. “WHERE’S MY LUGGAGE?”

“In the taxi,” Beth said.

“IT BETTER BE!” Lisa yanked at the door, stopped, turned the dead bolt and heaved. The door knob punched a hole in the drywall. Beth was left with a cloud of peach perfume. The front door bell rang.

Scout barked.

Beth opened the back door screen just long enough to watch Lisa slam the gate, scuff her heels down the driveway and step up to the side of the taxi. She climbed inside.

A Chevy Blazer pulled out from behind the V-Channel van.

The taxi pulled away.

The Blazer followed.

A black haired man peered around the side of the garage.

Beth stepped inside and locked both doors.

The front doorbell rang again.

Scout barked.

“Shit!” Beth moved down the hall to the front door and looked through the peephole. The fish eye face of Ralph Devine peered back at her.

The phone rang. Beth ran for the kitchen.

Ernie sat, staring at the TV and holding onto Scout’s collar. “Can’t you get the phone?” Beth said.

Ernie’s surprise faded into a blank stare. He turned back to the TV.

Ernie won’t even fight, Beth thought. I wish he would fight back. She picked up the phone, “Hello!?”

“We’re outside.”

“Lane?”

“Yes. We’re ready whenever you are.”

“Thanks.” The tears started as Beth hung up. She sat at the kitchen table with her hands between her knees and felt her shoulders shake. Something cool and wet touched her hand. She looked down. Scout looked back at her. “Thanks girl.” Beth smiled.

A hand touched her shoulder. “You okay, Mom?”

She looked at Ernie then leaned till her head touched him.

Ernie said, “Don’t worry.”

The doorbell rang.

Scout barked and scampered for the front door.

Beth felt like she might start to laugh and never stop. “We have to go.”

“Want me to answer the door?” Ernie said.

“No. Just turn off the TV.”

A shadow appeared behind the curtains covering the sliding glass door. Knuckles rapped on the glass.

“Don’t answer it.” Beth looked around the kitchen. She saw her Mother leaning over the sink. Her Mother took a pull on a cigarette. Beth shook away the memories, pushed the chair in and stood to watch the silhouette behind the curtain. “Get Scout and we’ll get in the car.”

“Come on, girl,” Ernie said.

Scout bounded into the kitchen and barked at the silhouette. Beth turned to see if the stove was off. She opened the fridge. Empty.

“Let’s go,” Ernie said.

Beth walked through the family room to the door of the attached garage. Inside, the light in the belly of the garage door opener cast long shadows. Ernie held Scout’s leash in his left hand. He opened the car’s back door and shut it after Scout jumped inside.

Beth reached into her pocket for keys.

The passenger door’s hinge squeaked.

Beth said, “I forgot my shoes.”

Someone pounded on the garage door.

Beth got in and wrapped ten toes over top of the brake pedal. The 25 year old engine coughed and caught.

Beth said, “Ernie, the garage door opener.”

He reached, pressed the button. Light flooded inside.

Beth shifted into reverse. Left hand on the wheel, right hand on the back of the seat, she looked out the rear window. The garage door rose above the height of the trunk.

Beth eased her foot off the brake.

Ralph Devine peered under the door. On the other side, the dark-haired man lifted a TV camera to his shoulder.

“Just a few questions!” Devine said.

Beth concentrated on driving. The men on either side were shadows in her peripheral vision. A line of shade passed over the car.

“Shut the garage door,” Beth said.

The rear bumper scraped pavement as they bounced onto the street. She stepped on the brake, shifted into drive and looked ahead.

The camera man stepped off the curb and aimed his camera at Beth.

She turned the wheel to the left. “God I wish this car had power steering.” She eased forward.

The cameraman stepped back and fell backwards over the curb.

“I’ll get blamed for that,” Beth said. The engine shuddered, nearly stalling. She curved her toes over the top of the accelerator and pushed gently. The engine smoothed out. They passed the cameraman aiming his lens at Ernie. Scout bared her teeth, barking fog and saliva onto the window.

The car laboured its way up to 50 kph. In the rear view mirror, Beth saw Ralph Devine following the cameraman as they headed for the van.

Lane and Harper watched from behind a parked pickup truck. “Looks like we only have to worry about one vehicle,” Lane said.

Harper grabbed his notebook and flipped to a fresh page.

Lane pulled out to follow the van. “You still don’t like this.”

“No.” Harper plucked a pen from his shirt pocket. “Giving a reporter, especially this guy, a ticket doesn’t bother me. It’s the rest of it I don’t like.”

“Ever been close to a story Devine covered?” Lane matched his speed with the van’s to keep a block between them. Remember, he thought, you know where Beth’s headed, they don’t.

“Couple of times,” Harper said.

“Did he ever get at the truth?”

“Not even close.”

Lane nodded, “Lots of people in town think he’s great. Think he should run for mayor.” Lane watched the van run a stop sign. “Get that?”

Harper looked at his watch and wrote down the time. Then he read the street sign as they stopped at the corner. He wrote it down as well. “It’s not about V Channel’s reporting,” Harper said. “So far, we’ve got four deaths. If you’re right, then we’re dealing with five. Our job is to gather evidence and lay charges, not play judge and jury.”

Lane watched the van pull up behind Beth’s antique Dodge. Overhead, the trees lining Northmount Drive reached to touch one another. “Ever meet a 15 year old who goes into jail and comes out ten years later?”

“No.”

Lane tapped his temple with a finger, “Gets out and is still 15 up here.”

“This kid’s not going to jail. Besides, that’s not our problem.” “Who’s problem is it, then?” Lane said.

“The court’s.”

“And if we don’t gather all of the facts, then a decision is made on limited information. At least this way, two more people are going to know what happened. At least, that is, if Randy will tell them what he knows. His relationship with Ernesto obliges him to do that,” Lane said.

“Or it obliges him to lie and cover up what happened.

Isn’t the van following a little too close?”

“Got to be less than a car length.”

Harper glanced at his watch, noted the street running across Northmount and scribbled in his book. “I still think we should take Randy in for questioning and see what happens.” “He’s expecting that.” Ahead, yellow lights flashed over a pedestrian crossing. A woman with a baby carriage waited on the curb. Beth braked. The V Channel van locked its rear wheels. Blue smoke boiled around the tires. The van slid sideways. Lane smelled burnt rubber. The mother pushed her child across the street. She glared at the driver of the van.

“Close,” Harper said. He noted time and location. Beth pulled ahead and the van followed. “Questioning Randy can’t hurt.”

“Randy’s going to turn any interrogator inside out. After that, we’ll get nothing,” Lane said.

“Then you do the questioning.”

“He’s already told me as much as he’s going to tell.”

Harper said, “We got enough on the van?”

“I think so. Besides we’re getting close to the cemetery. Beth will be getting nervous.”

Harper radioed information to a blue and white patrol car waiting further along Northmount Drive.

They stopped at the lights on 14th Street.

The light turned green. Beth led them through the intersection. Harper pointed at the strip mall on the south side of Northmount. A police cruiser waited in the parking lot.

“There she is.”

The blue and white accelerated out of the parking lot. The cruiser’s overhead lights flashed. The siren sounded. Beth pulled over. The V Channel van parked behind her. The cruiser stopped and an officer stepped out, made eye contact with Harper and nodded. Harper nodded back. “We’re gonna owe her big time. The reporter’s gonna give her an earful.”

“And she’ll enjoy every minute of it. Writing up tickets for reporters was always fun.” Lane passed Beth and she followed. Northmount curved south and out of the V Channel van’s line of sight. Lane turned left up a hill. He looked in the mirror. She was there.

Beth smiled, recalling the look on the face of the camera man. The moment he realized the police officer was stopping him, the camera man had mouthed one four letter word.

The air flowing in through her open window made the heat bearable. Beth followed Lane’s grey Chev past a no dogs sign, through the gate to Queen’s Park Cemetery and along the pavement running between two rows of evergreens. The road tipped down into the valley. The Chev’s brake lights came on and Lane pulled to the side of the road. Beth stopped two car lengths behind.

“I think he wants you to pull alongside,” Ernie said.

Beth spotted Lane’s left hand waving them ahead. Her nerves tingled. “Damn steering.” She heaved on the wheel and stopped next to the unmarked car. “Thanks for getting rid of the TV crew.”

Lane jerked his right thumb in his partner’s direction. “He did it.”

Harper leaned forward and smiled.

“Randy told me to park over there.” Lane pointed at the oblong concrete structure to the right. “He wants you to follow that road to the left and he’ll meet you in Section J, Block 25.”

“Section J, Block 25,” Beth said. She released the brake and turned left. Within 100 meters, they spotted a yellow tractor with its bucket scooping earth. The operator sat up top while another man shoveled soil over a fresh grave.

“What’s Randy look like now?” Ernie said.

Beth saw that Scout had her chin on Ernie’s right shoulder. The dog licked the breeze with her tongue. “Looks something like one of those guys on the cover of a magazine. You knew him when you were little.”

Ernie smiled at his Mother’s description of Randy.

Embarrassment rose up Beth’s neck.

Gravestones came close to the edge of the road on either side. Ahead, an artillery piece was aimed at the center of town.

They passed through an intersection and the road curved to the right.

The slope was dotted with willows whose lazy limbs brushed headstones. Near the graves, peonies sprouted in pinks and reds.

“Creepy,” Beth said.

“Kind of pretty,” Ernie said.

They passed a squat, green vehicle with John Deere and Gator stamped on its sides. A blue cooler sat in the back of the Gator.

“That him?” Ernie pointed at a man in a red hard hat guiding a weed whacker through the long grass around the base of a tree. Randy looked up. The gas engine slowed to idle and sputtered before stopping. Leaning the weed trimmer against his ribs, Randy pulled at ear plugs.

Beth stopped. “That’s him.”

Randy smiled and waved.

Scout barked.

Ernie opened his door.

Scout jumped over the back seat, onto Ernie’s lap and outside. “Scout!” Beth said as she shut off the engine.

A gopher ran and hopped across the pavement. Scout pounded along behind.

The gopher disappeared down a hole. Another gopher whistled. Scout raced from one hole to the next.

Randy strolled closer. “She’s okay. Let her run. Not many people around this time of day.”

“You sure?” Beth watched the dog stick its nose down a hole.

“Will she stay close?” Randy said.

“Always keeps us in sight.”

“Then, there’s no problem.” Randy moved to the Gator and set the weed trimmer in the back. “Ernie? Help me with this, will you?” Randy grabbed one of the cooler’s handles and waited.

Ernie grabbed the other handle. They walked across the grass with the cooler between them. Beth followed to a bench speckled by the shade of an elm. I hope this will help Ernie, she thought.

“Time for lunch,” Randy said. They set the cooler down by the bench.

“We didn’t come for a picnic,” Beth said.

“The truth tastes better with good food. Ernesto told me that when I first came here. I thought he was crazy. He found out I wasn’t bringing a lunch, so he brought one for me. He fed me and then he listened when I started to talk. Now it’s my turn to return the favour. You came here to find out what I know and I’ll tell you but it’s important to eat.” Randy lifted the lid of the cooler. “Want a pop?”

“Sure.” Ernie accepted a can and pulled back the tab.

“Beth?” Randy said.

“Please.” She rolled the can’s cool surface across her forehead and sat on the end of the bench.

“Sandwich?” Randy gave each a cellophane wrapped bun. “Hope you like cheese, lettuce and pastrami.

“Our last meal?” Beth said.

“Or your first.” Randy sat down and leaned his back against the trunk of the elm.

“I’m not really hungry.” Ernie sipped his pop.

“After Bob was through with you, one of the emotions you felt was helplessness. Helplessness because someone took control of your life and there wasn’t much you could do about it.”

Ernie said, “How did you know?”

“I’ve been there. Now you have a choice. I’m asking you to eat. All you have to do is listen. You can get up and leave any time you want or you can sit, eat and listen.”

Ernie crossed his ankles and sat. He put the pop between his legs, unwrapped the end of the bun and took a bite.

Randy lifted his pop. “Ernesto came here the morning Bob attacked you. It was a Tuesday?”

“Yes,” Ernie said.

Beth nodded and realized how hungry she was when she bit into the bun and tasted fresh baked bread.

“Ernesto was driving a Lincoln. Helen was in the passenger seat. He didn’t see me. It was coffee time and I was leaning up against this tree. You get to know someone real well when you work alongside him day after day. The way Ernesto moved when he got out of the car, I could tell there was something wrong. There was something about his posture. And he didn’t usually show up at that time of day.” Randy took another sip. “See those two willows?” He pointed at a pair of trees with white limbs and leaves hanging close to the ground. “The backhoe was down there. See the large headstone in black? The one shaped like a cross.”

Beth and Ernie looked down over the tops of rows of gravestones and into the valley. One headstone stood out among the others. It was under a hill of fresh earth dotted with Canadian and American flags.

Randy said, “One of the other guys had just about finished up the hole but was gone for coffee. Ernesto was real careful to back the car up close to the hole. Then he climbed into the backhoe and started digging. I wondered why he went so deep. It all made sense when he eased the backhoe’s bucket over to the rear of the Lincoln. He got down off the tractor, pulled a rope out of the trunk and tied it to the bucket. It was kind of slick the way he used the bucket to lift the body out of the trunk. For a moment it just hung there. Even from up here I could see the dead guy’s fly was open. Ernesto eased the body into the bottom of the hole, climbed out of the cab and cut the rope. He pulled a couple of bags out of the trunk and a big sheet of plastic. He dumped the bags into the hole. Then he refilled part of it and used the bucket to flatten the bottom. That way nobody would know what he’d done. The backhoe operator joked later on about how one hole had dug itself. He looked at me like I’d played a practical joke on him. I played along.”

Ernie looked at his sandwich. One bite was left. “Uncle Bob. It had to be him.”

Beth put her arms around her belly and looked at her son.

She felt sick with the certainty of what must come next.

“For the rest of that day and that night I tried to figure out what kind of mess Ernesto was in. The next day, I read about what happened to you. Then, it all made sense,” Randy said.

Beth said, “My mother must have called Ernesto. All he had to do was back the Lincoln into the garage and drag Bob down the hall. Then Mom called the ambulance for Ernie.”

“That’s what Ernesto said when I asked him three days later. He told me that Leona had been asleep upstairs, heard a noise and found Ernie and Bob on the floor. Bob was dead and she couldn’t get Ernie to wake up. Leona phoned Ernesto for help. When he got there, they rolled Bob over. His pecker was hanging out of his pants and the knife was on the floor. They put two and two together. Leona cleaned some of the blood off Ernie’s face and they decided the best thing to do was look out for their grandson.”

“So, he’s not coming back?” Ernie looked first to Beth and then to Randy for confirmation.

Beth opened her mouth to speak then said to herself, What will Ernie do when he figures it out?

“I don’t have to worry,” Ernie stared down into the valley at the headstone.

“Who else knows?” Beth said. Fear scratched its nails along her spine.

“The three of us and Lane.” Randy watched Ernie and waited.

“He knows?” Beth put her hand over her mouth.

“Lane suspects, but his hands are tied without proof,”

Randy said.

“All he has to do is exhume the body.” Beth’s mind raced as she tried to think ahead.

“Two bodies, actually, and that creates a bit of a problem,”

Randy said.

“Who else is buried there?” Beth said.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Who?” Ernie said.

Randy told them.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Beth said.

“Nope.”

“Lane will still get the body exhumed.” Beth looked at her son as she said the words.

“Won’t do him much good.” Randy drained his pop. “Not now.”

Ernie chewed the last bite of his second sandwich then licked his fingers.

Beth put her foot to the floor and tried the engine again. It coughed, cleared its throat and caught. A cloud of black smoke puffed from the tailpipe.

“This old girl doesn’t like the heat,” Randy crouched on Ernie’s side of the car.

“Doesn’t like the cold, either,” Ernie said.

Beth said, “Thanks, Randy, for everything.”

Randy lifted his hand, fingers open, cocked his head to one side and said, “Forget it. Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to Ernie. “She’s a good doctor. Helped me deal with what happened. If you decide that’s what you want, she’s a good one to talk with.”

Ernie took the card and tucked it into his pocket.

Beth pulled away. The car gathered speed as the road dropped into the bottom of the valley. She braked. They passed the grave with its meter high black stone cross and the flags.

“Aren’t we going to talk to Lane?” Ernie said.

Beth hit the brakes hard. Ernie put his hand against the dash. Scout yelped when she fell against the back of the front seat.

“Mom?”

She looked at her hands gripping the wheel. “Are you crazy?”

Ernie considered the question, “You think this will go away?”

She felt the flat of Ernie’s hand between her shoulder blades.

“Uncle Bob’s not coming back. You don’t know how it feels to know he’s not coming back.”

“Do you know what it all means?” she said.

“What?”

“It probably means Bob is dead because you hit him.”

“I just hit him once. He said he was gonna kill me if I didn’t do what he said. He was gonna cut my nose off and then he was gonna cut my heart out.”

“You didn’t tell me all of it,” Beth said.

“I didn’t remember it all till later. It came back in bits and pieces. I remember the knife. I remember what he smelled like. I remember the fear. I remember hitting him. I remember falling. I know what he said.”

“What if you end up in jail?” Beth said.

Ernie’s expression told her he hadn’t thought of that.

“You don’t understand.” Beth touched the smudges of fatigue underneath his eyes.

“You think the reporter is gonna give up? You think Lane will? Maybe you don’t understand.”

She looked ahead at the intersection. Turn East or turn West? she thought.

“I want this to be over. My Dad would run. I don’t want to end up like him,” Ernie said.

Harper said, “Why not dig down beside the hole?”

Lane looked across at his partner. The Chev’s air conditioner pumped a cool breeze. “What do you mean?”

“Are there any graves right beside it? I mean, maybe we can dig a hole down alongside. That way we might not have to get permission to disturb the other body.”

“Never thought of that,” Lane said.

They heard the sound of an engine labouring up the hill.

It was followed by the blue hood of Beth’s Dodge.

“Do we follow her if she doesn’t stop?” Harper said. They watched Beth look their way and turn toward them. She backed in, leaving a parking space between her and the ghost car.

Ernie opened his door, grabbed the dog’s leash, then waited for his mother to come around and join him.

“You have any idea how this is going to play out?” Harper said.

“Looks good so far,” Lane said.

Scout’s tongue hung almost to the ground.

Lane opened his window. He hitched his thumb and pointed at the back seat. “Want to cool off?”

Beth frowned at Lane’s choice of words. Ernie opened the door behind Lane. “Okay if Scout gets in?” Without waiting for permission, the dog hopped in and sat to ponder the pair in the front. Ernie climbed in. The dog eased closer to the boy when Beth climbed in the other side.

“You okay, girl?” Ernie said to Scout. He looked at Lane and Harper, “She was chasing gophers.”

Harper smiled.

“She need some water?” Lane leaned against the driver’s door.

“Just gave her some,” Beth said.

“We found out where Uncle Bob is,” Ernie said.

A rush of emotions ran through Beth.

Harper studied Ernie.

Lane looked at the boy and said, “You know that what you say here can be used in a trial. Detective Harper is going to be taking notes.”

Harper picked up his notebook and propped it on his knee.

Ernie kept his eyes on Lane.

“Do you want a lawyer?” Lane looked at Beth as he asked the question.

“Do we need one?” she said.

“You might,” Lane said.

Ernie said, “I want to get this over with. Besides, you know most of it already.”

“I don’t want my kid to go to jail,” Beth said.

Lane said, “Look, I’ll keep the questions general and if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. Okay?”

Ernie nodded.

“You don’t agree?” Lane said to Beth.

“He says this is what he wants. What else can I do?” She wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

“You can say no,” Lane said.

“Ask your questions.” Ernie scratched the back of the dog’s head.

Lane looked at the boy, “Have you remembered anything more about Bob Swatsky’s assault?”

“I remember the knife, the smell of him, the threats and hitting him here.” Ernie used his free hand to tap the soft tissue at the base of his throat.

“You said threats. Specifically, what did he say?” Lane said.

“He said, he’d cut my nose off and then he’d cut my heart out if I didn’t get on my knees. He told me to suck his… ”

Lane looked at Ernie then at Harper to see if his partner was keeping up with the notes.

“He threatened your life,” Lane said.

“That’s important?” Ernie said.

“Very.” Lane thought for a moment. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Just that he fell on me and then I remember waking up in the hospital and seeing my Mom leaning over the bed.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nope,” Ernie said.

Lane chose his words carefully. “Now, you say you have reason to believe you know where Bob Swatsky is. You might not want to mention the names of anyone living if you decide to discuss his whereabouts.”

What is he doing? Beth thought.

Ernie considered this for a moment. “Nonno dumped Uncle Bob’s body in a grave. We can show you where.”

“How do you know this?” Lane said.

Ernie looked at Beth.

“You see, I have to have a good reason if I go digging for a body.” Lane continued to gauge their reactions and study their eyes.

Beth said, “A reliable source said we would find the body in a grave down the hill.”

“Do you know the name on the headstone?” Lane said.

Beth and Ernie nodded.

Lane said the name.

Ernie said, “Yes, that’s it.”

“Do I have to go to jail, now?” Ernie said. “I might have killed my Uncle.”

Beth gripped her son’s knee.

Harper spoke before Lane could, “We have to determine the cause of death before we proceed.”

Lane looked at Harper, then at Beth and Ernie.

Harper said, “We don’t know if Swatsky died from a blow to the throat, a heart attack or if someone else killed him. In fact, we don’t know the cause of death until we have the results of an autopsy. We are obliged to make a solid case before laying any charges. We also have to consider the fact that this was a situation where Ernie’s life was in imminent danger.”

I couldn’t have said it better, Lane thought.