The house of Barbara and Henry sat on a rectangular lot with golf-course-worthy grass and a stamped concrete driveway. A large maple tree stretched its leafy canopy over the lawn and onto the driveway. Hydrangea climbed the light grey brick surrounding the garage. Four cars filled the driveway and more lined both sides of the streets.
Kelly said, “Family and community support. Bruce was a well-liked kid.”
They parked on a side street two blocks away and walked towards the home on the sidewalk. Floral scents competed with fresh cut grass. A lawnmower could be heard rumbling in a backyard. In these small towns of the north, the population was predominately white. Jodie knew she would be stared at. Some people would stare with curiosity, others with suspicion and thankfully, just a small minority would outright hate her for nothing more than not being white. The red door of the Hanley residence loomed before her. She wondered what type of greeting she would receive. Although she was used to the varied welcomes, it still caused a fluttering in her stomach. She exhaled and in her peripheral, sensed Kelly looking at her. Her feet carried her to the front door. She patted the gun on her hip, made sure her badge was visible on her belt and she knocked.
A young girl opened the door wearing blue jeans and a dark shirt. From the pictures of Bruce Jodie had seen, the young girl resembled her brother but with feminine features. A softer jaw and a thinner nose.
Jodie said, “Hello. You must be Lucy. Can I speak to your mother?”
Lucy said, “She’s been crying a lot.” After saying that, her lower lip quivered.
Jodie said, “I know. And I’m sorry. Only it’s important that we speak with her and your father.”
Lucy said, “There are a lot of people here.”
A man stepped into the hallway behind Lucy and said, “Hey Kelly.”
Kelly nodded and said, “Henry. I’m really sorry.”
Looking at Jodie, Henry said, “Now is not a good time.”
Jodie said, “Okay. Can I leave you my card? Can you call me when there is a better time? I’m sorry but it’s real important I ask you some questions, to help Lynda.”
His brow furrowed and he said, “Like you helped Bruce?”
At the mention of Bruce’s name, Lucy left the door and after a few walking steps, ran up the stairs.
Henry’s head turned to follow her. When he turned back to Jodie, his face burned red and he exhaled. He said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. We’ll help. I uh, there are a lot of people here. I’ll call you later. I promise.”
Jodie handed him her card after scribbling her cell phone number on the back. She said, “No need to apologize. I’m sorry to have intruded.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Henry closed the door.
Kelly whispered, “That was intense.”
“Death usually is.”
They walked back to the cruiser, both quiet and preoccupied with the aftereffects of a parent’s confused grief. Definitely, the worst part of her job was dealing with the bereaved and the almost tangible quality to the emotion of their loss. What was worse was that she knew she would have to talk to them again. After Jodie met Neil and Jamie though, speaking to the Hanley’s moved to the bottom of her to do list.
. . . . .
They arrived at Lynda’s home a little after nine in the morning. Not as affluent as the Hanley’s, the house was smaller with red brick and siding that had once been white but was now a flaking pale yellow. The sloping roof was missing shingles yet despite the somewhat rundown appearance, the lawn was well kept and the driveway shone black with freshly applied sealant. At this home, no cars lined the streets with supporters.
Jodie said, “Doesn’t look like they have many friends.”
“I told you they fight a lot right? When they aren’t physically fighting, they are chipping at each other with insults and they don’t seem to care who they do that in front of. Makes it awkward to be around them.”
“I guess that would.”
Jodie climbed the few steps leading to the front door. She raised her hand to knock and the door whipped open before she could. A man stood behind the screen wearing a tank top, shorts, and no shoes. His cheeks and chin were dark with unshaven hair. Sweat dotted his brow.
In his right hand, he held a can of Busch beer. Looking at Jodie, he said, “Yeah?”
“Hello. I’m Detective Reyes with the Ontario Provincial Police. You’re Neil, right?”
“Yeah.”
“May we come in and speak to you?”
“I don’t know you.” He took a swig of beer.
Kelly leaned into Neil’s view and said, “You know me, Neil.”
“Hey, Kelly.” He turned his gaze to Jodie, waited and said, “Alright then,” and turned from the door.
Jodie caught Kelly’s eye and he returned a tight-lipped nod. Jodie opened the door and stepped inside. The house smelled of Pine-sol with an undercurrent of carpet cleaner. Following Neil down a hallway, she passed a woman in the kitchen scrubbing the floor on her knees with a brush. As Jodie passed the doorway to the kitchen, the woman looked up and yelled, “Hey! Who are you?”
Behind her, she heard Kelly say, “Hey Jamie.”
Jamie rushed the doorway with the scrubbing brush in her hand leaving a trail of soapy water on the floor and said, “Have you found her?”
“No. Jamie. I’m sorry, but we haven’t.”
Jamie dropped the scrubbing brush and palmed her eyes. Her shoulders shook and when she dropped her hands, she said, “I’ll get back to cleaning, then.”
Jodie said, “We’d really like to talk to you. Anything you can tell us could help.”
“I don’t know what I could tell you. She’s a good girl. Better than me and definitely better than Neil, the slug. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Look. I’m going to talk to Neil in the living room and when you’re ready, you can join us. You know more than you think you do and I need to know it too.”
Jamie squinted at Jodie and said, “You do this a lot? Find missing people?”
“Yes. And I’m good at it.”
“Yeah.” Jamie turned her red eyes to Kelly and said, “Jesus Christ, Kelly! You’re in our house. Take off your hat would ya?”
Kelly pulled the hat off his head and said, “Yes, ma’am.” He smoothed his hair out, his face glowing crimson.
From the living room, Neil said, “Are we doing this or what?”
Jamie’s eyes pointed at the sound of her husband’s voice and until then, Jodie had never seen disgust described by a gaze before.
. . . . .
The interview, if it could be called that, took place in the living room with Neil and Jamie sitting on the same couch but on opposite ends. If they tried to get further from each other, they’d drop off the couch and onto the floor. Jodie would ask Neil a question and either Jamie answered it for him or chortled at his reply. Neil, for his part, cut Jamie off every chance he got and even did the classic move of repeating what she said in a sing-song voice for the sole purpose of annoying her. Jodie had to draw on all her skills of diplomacy to keep the interview from disintegrating into a contest of insults. She was able to get them to agree to answer her questions separately and not to interrupt the other. She reminded them the answers they provided could help her locate Lynda and they needed to focus on that. Normally, both people would be interviewed separately and on video to have an accurate record of what was said and so that the answers the interviewees provided were not influenced by the other. Jodie’s intention had been to do just that. She wanted them to get to know her a bit, build some rapport and then have them attend the station for a video interview. She knew Jamie would go, but Neil, he’d already been drinking and for some reason, seemed resentful at the police even talking to him. More than once he said, “What are you doing here for? You should be out there finding my daughter!” Jodie reminded him that the search teams were out there trying to do just that. Her role was to investigate and potentially uncover information to assist in finding Lynda. Neil muttered, “Fat lot of good that’s doing.”
Jamie said, “Maybe if you’d been home for once, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Don’t start on that again. Like I have control over what Lynda does or who she dates.”
Jodie noticed he used the present tense when referring to Lynda.
Jodie said, “I read that somewhere. You were away with your brother and friend?”
Neil scoffed and said, “Some detective.”
Jamie said, “He was off on one of his fishing trips with his two butt buddies, Greg and Ray. They do it the same time every year. No matter what. The year my father died, Neil here didn’t even cancel the trip! I went to my father’s funeral by myself.”
Neil rolled his eyes, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, will you never let go of that? We already paid for the trip, I go every year and it’s not like your father even liked me!”
“You weren’t supposed to be there for my father! You were supposed to be there for me!”
Jamie’s red face turned crimson and to forestall the bitter vitriol about to spill from her mouth and because she was genuinely curious, Jodie said to Neil, “Where were you?”
“Fishing. Up North.”
“Where?”
“Little town, Woodborough. They have a freshwater lake. Great fishing. We’ve been going since I was a teenager.”
“Where’d you stay?”
“The same hotel we stay at every year.”
Jodie glanced at Jamie and returned to Neil, “Can you tell me the name of the hotel?”
He squinted his eyes, slugged back the rest of his beer and said, “The only hotel in town, the Woodborough Hotel.”
“Who did you go with?”
“My brother Greg and our best friend, Ray.”
“Okay.” Jodie noted the name on her notebook. To Jamie, she said, “Normally, we interview everyone in a formal setting. On video and at the police station. That way, it is a true and accurate representation of the interview. I’d like to get a better picture of Lynda. Who her friends are, what she likes to do, that sort of thing. We haven’t identified the other person with Bruce and any help in doing that would be great. Would you be able to do that?”
“Anything to help. I, uh, just don’t want to leave here, in case Lynda comes back. I want to be here.”
Kelly said, “We can bring a camera here. We have the equipment at the station.”
Jamie said, “That’d be a lot better.”
Neil said, “You need to interview us again?”
Jodie said, “It’d be very helpful. This is informal. I wanted to meet you first and have you meet me before we begin the whole formal part of it. In my experience, it eases the information gathering. So. What is the best time for you? We can come back with the equipment later. Just let us know a time that works for you.”
Jamie looked at Neil, shifted her eyes to the beer in his hand and said, “Six o’clock tonight? That will give one of us time to be more presentable.”
Neil grunted. Jodie stood and soon after, so did Kelly. She handed Jamie her business card with her cell number on it. Jamie walked them to the front door. Neil sat on the couch, staring out the window.
. . . . .
Once in the police cruiser, Kelly started the car and they pulled away from the curb. Jamie watched them from the front door, arms crossed under her breasts.
Jodie said, “Was that typical Neil behaviour?”
“He is a shit-kicker. Known to run his mouth in the bar, get in a punch up now and again but not a bad sort as far as that goes. I always thought of him as a good dad though. He coached Lynda’s soccer team for a few years and from what I heard, he was good at it. Not the overbearing yelling at the kids kind of coach. Patient with them. Wasn’t too helpful now though, was he? Considering we are looking for his daughter who was last seen with her murdered boyfriend.”
“That’s what I was thinking. An uncooperative cooperative. He answered the question but it took him some time to get around to it.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t like it, that’s for sure. We should call that hotel. See if we can figure out why he didn’t want to tell us the name. Also, talk to Greg and Ray. See what they have to say.”
“Cheating on his wife maybe?”
“Maybe. I can’t see why it would matter where he stayed, but it did to him.”