Made to Be Broken Page 3

  Staff Sergeant Don Riley was commander of the local Ontario Provincial Police detachment.

  "What'd you tell him?" I asked.

  "That Sammi and Destiny are gone."

  "Gone? When?"

  "Sunday night. My dad says - " Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I gotta go. Meet me at Larry's? At noon?"

  "Sure, but - "

  She sprinted away, long hair flapping behind her. I thought of following, but the animosity between Janie and Rick Hargrave extended to Hargrave's opinion of Sammi, and I knew Tess wouldn't feel comfortable discussing her friend in front of him.

  I glanced down the street at the OPP office. Most cops don't have a problem with me. In fact, the "public safety" occupations - cops, military, firefighters, paramedics - form a large part of my lodge clientele. They might not agree with what I did, but they understand how it could happen. Don Riley and his sergeant, Rudy Graves, were among the exceptions. The first time we met, Riley told me I was a murdering bitch, no better than the man I'd killed. Our relationship had deteriorated from there. Yet, given the choice between spinning my wheels at the lodge and going a few rounds with Riley, I chose the latter.

  When I walked into the tiny station that housed the White Rock OPP detachment, I bypassed the desk clerk, Maura, who wisely pretended she didn't see me. There were three officers in the main room: Riley, Graves, and a new guy. Riley was in his usual place, leaning against the pillar in the center of the room. One of these days, after years of straining to hold him up, it's going to give way. With any luck, it'll take him and Graves with it.

  "Get out of my station, Stafford," Riley said as I entered. "You aren't welcome here."

  "It's a public building," I said. "Paid for by my tax money."

  The new guy scrambled for the door, saying something about fresh coffee. I stepped aside to let him pass, and murmured a greeting. He gave me a half-smile as he brushed past.

  "What do you want, Stafford?" Riley said.

  His hand moved to the butt of his gun, stance widening. I hummed the theme to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. He turned on his heel and stomped into his office, slamming the door behind him.

  Graves took his boss's place, planting himself in my path.

  "What do you want, Stafford?" he said, parroting his boss.

  "I hear Sammi and her baby are missing."

  "No, they're not!" Riley thundered from the back.

  "You know, Don, you can eavesdrop better if you put a glass to the door. Come on, guys. Let's cut the crap. I'm not here to cause trouble - "

  "You wouldn't dare," Riley said, striding out. "Not in my town."

  I bit my tongue to keep from humming the Western theme again. "I'm worried about Sammi. Tess says she's disappeared."

  "Really? Wow. Kid's had a record since she was thirteen, gets herself knocked up at sixteen, and now she's disappeared? There's a shocker, eh, Rudy?"

  Riley lumbered to Graves 's desk and thudded his bulk into the chair. He picked up a car magazine and thumbed through it.

  "So you think she ran away?" I said. "How did she get out of town? Taxi? No, wait, we don't have one. Bus? Train? Limo service? Hmmm, don't have those, either."

  "She probably hot-wired a car," Graves said. "That's what she did the last time. Stole a cottager's SUV and rolled it."

  "She went joyriding in a car with the keys left in the ignition. That was four years ago, and she hasn't been in trouble since. Has someone reported a car stolen?"

  "That's privileged information."

  "In other words, no. Or else you'd be saying Sammi did steal a car." I perched on an empty desk. "Look, I'm concerned, okay? Don't turn this into a pissing match. My employee has disappeared and I want to know if there's any reason to worry. Have you spoken to Janie?"

  "Why?" Graves said, crossing the room to stand in front of me. "Sammi Ernst is gone, big deal. The Ernsts don't breed nothing but trash. Never have. If you were from around here, you'd know that. You feel sorry for that little baby? Look at Janie Ernst. I remember when she was a little baby herself, everyone saying how cute she was, how she'd be the one to break the cycle. But she wasn't, was she? Just passed it on to her brat, who passed it on to hers."

  "Is that how you guys work around here? Decide who deserves help and who doesn't?"

  "You think we got nothing better to do than chase runaway kids?" Riley said. "We've got two cottage B &Es, a cougar on the loose - "

  "Cougar?"

  "Cougar, mountain lion, whatever. The point is - "

  "We don't have cougars around here."

  "No fucking kidding. Why do you think it's a problem? It must have escaped from that zoo over on 55 and now we've got campers calling in, freaking out about hearing a cougar in the woods. You think we need that kind of trouble?"

  "Is the zoo missing a cougar?"

  "How the hell should I know?" Graves said.

  I bit my tongue - hard - and stood. "If there's a big cat out there, I'd like to know about it. I take guests into those woods and I've got enough trouble worrying about - "

  "Had enough trouble with Sammi, too, didn't you, Stafford? I think we've solved the case, Don. Sammi pissed Stafford off and she gave the kid permanent walking papers." He pointed his forefinger between my eyes, cocking his hand into a gun. "Pow. The Stafford Special."

  I stared at his finger. Thought about breaking it.

  I let myself savor the fantasy for ten seconds. Then I turned and walked out.

  I walked back to Janie's place and spent another ten minutes banging on the doors and windows. She didn't answer. Big surprise there. Next I popped into the liquor store, paid Hargrave for yesterday's beer, and told Tess I was heading to the diner. I had a half hour before she'd be off for lunch, but I went early and ordered coffee.

  Of the half dozen people in Larry's Diner that morning, two worked there and four spent so much time there that Larry should have charged them rent. I sat at the counter with everyone else.

  After the initial greetings, I lapsed into listening mode, hoping to hear something about Sammi so I could join the conversation rather than instigate it. After fifteen minutes of listening to the Myers brothers bitch about native land rights, I realized no easy segue was coming.

  "Anyone hear what happened to Sammi?" I asked when Jason Myers paused for a caffeine refill. "She hasn't been to work in two days."

  "Took off," Jason said.

  Everyone nodded.

  His brother, Eric, leaned forward, jabbing his finger at the countertop in front of Larry, the diner owner. "Now, these Indians, we paid them for their land. If I sell my house to someone, my grandkids can't come back fifty years later and say they got a bum deal and want it back."

  I could have pointed out the fallacy of this argument but, during my years in White Rock, I'd learned there were certain issues you didn't debate with the locals.

  "About Sammi," I said. "Did she really run away?"

  The Myers brothers shrugged in unison.

  "Hey, Nadia," Brett Helms called down the counter. "You see any sign of that cougar up your way?"

  I shook my head. "Heard about it, though. It's for real, then?"

  "Guess so. Some kids camping over by the Potter place heard it. Came racing in here just before closing, huh, Larry?"

  Larry nodded and poured fresh grinds into the coffee-maker.

  "Scared shitless," Brett said, laughing. "City kids. Said they'd heard cougars on some wildlife show and they were sure that's what it was."

  "Man, that'd be a trophy," Eric said. "Think Don'll let us hunt it?"

  I tuned them out and sipped my coffee. Seventeen-year-old girl goes missing and no one even wonders why. But an escaped cougar? Now that's news.

  Chapter Five

  Tess arrived ten minutes early. She only had a half hour before she needed to begin the drive to school. Tess was in her last year and had crammed in enough credits that she only needed to attend afternoon classes. Mornings were spent working with her dad to save for college.r />
  We took a booth at the back and ordered burgers. When lunch arrived, Tess nibbled the crispy end off one fry, then stared down at the overflowing plate.

  "Sorry," she said. "I'm not very hungry."

  "That's okay. So the last time you saw Sammi was...?"

  "Sunday. I was driving home from my grandma's, saw her walking to town from your place and gave her a lift. Kira and I usually stop by Sammi's around ten, after Destiny's asleep. That night, Sammi didn't come out, so Kira snuck in the back door. Janie was passed out on the couch, and Sammi and Destiny weren't home. Yesterday morning, I went back, 'cause I was worried, but Janie ran me off, said Sammi was gone and good riddance."

  "Did Sammi say anything unusual when you gave her a ride?"

  Tess shook her head and blew her nose on the napkin.

  "New boyfriend?" I asked.

  Another head shake.

  "What about Trent? Did they get back in contact? Maybe she followed him out to Vancouver."

  Tess made a noise of disgust. "That asshole couldn't get away from here fast enough, get on with his new college life where no one knew he'd had a kid. Sammi would never lower herself to going after him. And even if he asked her to, she'd tell him where to stuff it."

  "Did she make a new friend? Acquaintance?"

  "No."

  "Did she say she wanted to leave?"

  "No more than usual. She mentions it, but it's the same old 'God, I hate this town' shit that we all say."

  "Had she said it more often recently?"

  She shook her head. "Since she's been working for you, she hasn't said it as much. She has a plan now. Her mom makes her pay rent, but almost all the rest goes in the bank and she figures by the time Destiny's ready for school, she'll have enough to move to Oshawa or Kingston."

  She circled a fry through her ketchup, then set it down and looked at me. "She's grateful, for the job and all. I'm sure she's never said so, but she is. It's just really hard on her. She wants to work, but she doesn't want to leave Destiny with a sitter. Sammi... she pretty much raised herself and I tell her it's not the same thing if she finds a good sitter, but to her it still feels like abandoning Destiny."

  "Maybe she saw your point and decided the problem was that she couldn't find good child care here. In the city, that wouldn't be as much of a problem."

  "I just... I don't think she left."

  "Did she give you anything recently? An unexpected gift? Something she owned? Maybe seem more sentimental than usual?"

  Tess paused to think, then shook her head.

  "Did she start taking an interest in other places? Buying the city papers, looking for an apartment or a job?"

  "No, she hates reading. She - " Tess lowered her voice. "She's not very good at it."

  "Okay, so - "

  "Wait. There was something. Not a job, really, but something she didn't want anyone else to know."

  I leaned onto my elbows. "What?"

  Tess glanced around, but no one was within ten feet of our booth. "There was this guy, a tourist, a few weeks ago when we had that warm spell. He saw Sammi and Destiny at the park. He worked for some modeling agency in Toronto. He told Sammi - "

  " - she could be a model," I finished.

  "No, not Sammi. Destiny. His agency works with babies. He took a bunch of pictures of her, then wrote down Sammi's number and said he'd call in a few days. Only he never did. She was real broken up about it. She'd hoped it might be a way to make extra money and get out of here even sooner."

  "Maybe she went to Toronto looking for him."

  "If she did, she would have taken her mom's truck. But that's not like Sammi, anyway. She doesn't go begging." She twisted her napkin. "I think someone took her."

  "Took her?"

  "You know. A serial killer. A rapist. I told her she shouldn't go walking the back roads at night, but she always laughed, you know. Said no one would grab a girl with a baby."

  My gut went cold. "When did Sammi do this?"

  "Every night, around dusk. Said it was good for Destiny. The fresh air helped her sleep."

  "But we don't know that Sammi went out Sunday night."

  Tess shot up straight, eyes gleaming fierce. "Yes, we do. That's what I told Don. Kira's mom saw Sammi walk past their place around eight. She went for her walk and she never came back. That's what I've been trying to tell everyone."

  After lunch, I dropped Tess off at her car and told her I'd keep in touch. Then I drove the route she'd said Sammi usually took on her evening walk, and found nothing.

  Next stop: talk to the person who'd last seen Sammi.

  Meredith Desmond was Kira's mother. They lived in a tidy bungalow outside town. Meredith and I got on fine. I'd decorated the lodge with her watercolors and made a point of sending guests to her home-based studio.

  According to Meredith, Sammi had walked past around eight, roughly the same time she had every night this month. Meredith and her husband had been on the front swing, reading and enjoying the sunset. When Sammi walked past, Meredith called out a greeting, as usual. Sammi waved back, as usual. Then she kept going.

  Unlike the other adults I'd spoken to so far, Meredith was concerned. Sammi was a good kid, she said. Pissed off at the world, but who'd blame her?

  As for Tess's theory, that Sammi had been picked up by a sexual predator, Meredith conceded anything was possible. But we hadn't had such a killer around here since... well, since never. In this region, stranger rape wasn't unheard of. Murder by a stranger, though, was so rare that neither of us could recall the last one.

  Most likely, Meredith thought, Sammi had used her nightly routine as a launch pad for a planned disappearance. She'd taken Destiny on her usual walk, planning either to meet a ride or to swipe a summer car left at one of the big cottages over by the nearby Potter place. Maybe she'd hoped to stir up a little trouble with her sudden disappearance, make people sit up and take notice. Maybe even, for the first time in her life, she'd make her mother worry about her. If that was the case, I hoped she never learned the truth - that except for her friends, nobody seemed to care.

  Still, something about that scenario rankled. If Sammi had trusted Tess with the secret about the photographer, wouldn't she have at least hinted that she was leaving?

  I didn't like the "modeling photographer" idea, either. As a cop, I'd seen that routine too often. Pervert approaches teenage girl and asks her to "model" for him. So why target Destiny instead? Because anyone who'd spent five minutes with Sammi knew her world revolved around her baby. She was streetwise enough to see through any guy who offered to make her a star. But Destiny? That would be hard to resist. Maybe the guy had called and asked Sammi to meet him that night.

  I wanted to walk Sammi's route, but only made it as far as parking on the roadside, where I sat staring out the windshield.

  Before Tess left, she'd cursed herself for not being more forceful with Sammi and insisting she stop her nighttime rambles. I'd reassured her that there'd been nothing she could do except give her advice. It had been up to Sammi to take it. But now, sitting here, Tess's words came back. "I should have done something. It was my job, you know? That's the way we were, Sammi and me. She was the fun one, always getting into trouble. I followed along, and made sure that didn't get out of hand. I kept her safe."

  I kept her safe.

  It was my job.

  How many times had I thought that about my cousin Amy? A year older than me, Amy had been my best friend from the time I was born, to hear our parents tell it. She was the one who knew how to have fun, and I was the one who kept it from getting out of hand.

  I'd been thirteen the summer she'd decided we were old enough to take the train to the CNE, back in the days when it made a special stop at the big Toronto fair. My father thought we were too young. My uncle had laughed and slapped him between the shoulders.

  "Nadia will keep them out of trouble. She always does."

  Dad had resisted, but I'd begged, and everyone told him he was being silly, my
mother finally snapping in annoyance.

  "Stop coddling the girl, Bill. How do you expect her to grow up when you're always hovering over her? Are you going to drive her on dates, too?"

  "Nah, he'll order one of the new recruits to do it. In full uniform, with a squad car." Uncle Eddie slapped my dad again. "Come on, Bill, let the girls have their fun."

  So we went. And we had fun. Innocent fun. Amy flirted with the carnies too much, but I managed to drag her attention elsewhere before they could ask for her phone number. I was interested in boys, too, but with me, the operative word was boy. Amy's tastes ran dangerously close to men, though none of her boyfriends yet had been more than a high school senior.

  Afterward, when we got to the train station, Amy's father wasn't there yet. My dad had wanted to pick us up, but he'd been called last night to switch shifts.

  Still riding high from the day of freedom, Amy wanted to start walking. It was dark, but the road was lit, so I said okay. We'd gone about a kilometer when Drew Aldrich pulled over in his pickup, and asked if we needed a ride.

  Aldrich lived down the road from Amy. He was twenty-four, with dark hair, a leather jacket, and bushy brows over eyes that always seemed to be laughing at you. Amy swore he was the spitting image of Matt Dillon in The Outsiders, and swooned every time he stopped to talk to her... which he did often enough to make me nervous. I'd wanted to tell my dad. She'd blown up when I suggested it - one of the few real fights we'd ever had. After a week of not talking, I'd promised to mind my own business when it came to Drew Aldrich.

  But he made me nervous. So when he offered us a ride that night, my answer was no. Amy cajoled. Amy pleaded. I stood my ground, anxiously scanning the road, praying to see Uncle Eddie's big white car. It was only when Amy threatened to go alone that I got into the truck.

  I had to keep her safe.

  It was my job.

  I spent the next few hours walking Sammi's route. Like most roads up here, this one was heavily wooded on both sides, with endless twists and hills and valleys. Stand at any point and you couldn't see more than a hundred feet in either direction.

  Every few steps, I'd look around and ask myself "If I found a mark here, could I make a safe hit?" In every case, the answer was yes. The few times that I heard a car coming, it took at least three minutes for it to come into view, more than enough time to pull a body - and a stroller - into the ditch and hide.