Amanda Doucette Mystery 3-Book Bundle. Barbara Fradkin
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Sheri craned her neck over Amanda’s shoulder to catch a glimpse. Seeing the unread messages, she swore.
“Oh, spectacular! So now he doesn’t even have a phone!”
Still squatting in the corner, Amanda glanced around the shed. How had the phone ended up buried under the tires? Someone had to move a tarp, a bag of fertilizer, and four heavy tires in order to hide it there. That made no sense. If Phil had simply put his phone down while collecting his fishing gear, or if it had fallen out of his pocket, it should have been sitting in plain sight, on top of the tarp, not underneath.
It was almost as if he had hidden it on purpose. But why go to all that trouble? If Phil wanted to get rid of the phone, so that no one could reach him or track him, why not just throw it in a Dumpster on his way out of town?
She tried to imagine the twisted path of Phil’s reasoning. He had discarded his phone, but rather than throwing it away, he’d left it within easy earshot of the house. Had that been deliberate? Had he known that a little ingenuity and detective work would discover it? Was he counting on that? Was he counting on the confusion and worry that discovery would provoke?
Amanda held the phone in suddenly nerveless fingers. Did he want Sheri to find it, she wondered? And to know that he had chosen to cut all ties? Did he want her to know that he was beyond reach? Beyond salvation?
The ultimate revenge.
She stood up, bumping into Sheri in her haste to turn around. “I think you better call the police.”
Chapter Three
To Amanda’s surprise, Sheri balked. She leaned over to peer at the spot where the phone had been found. “He could have just dropped it and it slid down there.”
“But he would have looked for it.”
“Maybe it fell out of his pocket while he was getting his fishing gear, and he didn’t even notice until after he left. Phil’s like that, you know. Mr. Unreliable, remember?”
“But he’d have a checklist. All those years of training —”
Sheri set her jaw and headed out of the shed. “He would hate it if I called the cops on him. Even if he did leave the phone behind on purpose, so what? He just needs his space and time. This is a small town, and people have sharp tongues and long memories. He’s having a hard enough time fitting in without having this written on his forehead. He’ll come back when he’s had time to sort himself out.”
Amanda hesitated. She didn’t want to scare Sheri by pushing the panic button prematurely, but Sheri’s denial of the darker possibilities seemed odd. “I’m not so sure. He’s been walking the edge a long time, and I don’t think he’s thinking clearly. God knows what he’ll do if he’s desperate.”
They were crossing the grass toward the house, and Sheri turned to search Amanda’s face. “He would never hurt Tyler.”
Despite her words, there was uncertainty in her eyes. Amanda didn’t respond. Desperate people hurt their children all the time, sometimes from the depths of a depression so black they believed they were saving their children from an impossible world and other times from a vengeful wish to hurt their partner by taking away the thing they loved most. “But what about hurting himself? Has he ever talked about ending it all?”
Sheri gulped a sharp breath. She strode inside, checked the house phone and the street yet again. Her jaw worked. “There was a time, this winter, when he asked me to hide all the axes and knives. I wasn’t sure if it was to protect me, or him.”
“Did he go for help?”
“Ask for help? Phil? Besides, here in Grand Falls, what kind of help is there? Trauma counsellors falling out of the sky, are they?”
Amanda came to her side and put a gentle hand on her arm. “I know this is scary, but we have to consider it. Because I think maybe it’s what this is all about. He said he forgives you and he hid his cellphone where we would eventually find it, but only once he was too far away for us to stop him. I bet if we search it, or decipher the password on his laptop, we’ll find a note.”
Sheri’s chin quivered. She snatched the cellphone from Amanda’s hand and tried to thumb through links. Once again a password stymied her. Frustrated, she shook her head. “Goddamn Nigeria! It made him so paranoid! It swallowed a wonderful, caring, trusting man and spat him back, destroyed. But Phil is a strong man. He’s a fighter. Even if he’s on the edge, he’s not going to quit on Tyler. He’s seen too many children suffer …”
“But would he quit on you?”
Sheri flinched.
“Please call the cops, Sheri.”
Sheri averted her eyes and walked to the window as if to put distance between herself and Amanda’s pressure. “I need to think. Let me call his family to see if they’ve heard from him. Maybe he felt a need to visit home. There are a lot of possibilities to explore before we press the panic button.”
Amanda forced herself to back off. Every ounce of her screamed danger, but maybe she was overreacting. She could no longer trust her own alarm system; it had failed her one crucial time, and now its sirens shrieked at even the smallest hint of danger.
“Okay, good idea. I’ll take Kaylee for a walk before she mutinies, and when I get back, we’ll take stock again.”
The walk through the quiet, leafy residential streets was peaceful, giving Amanda time to sort through her fears. She was surprised Sheri had not already contacted Phil’s family in Manitoba, which seemed an obvious first step for a worried wife to take, but perhaps the family ties were tenuous. When you spend most of your adult life in tumultuous, faraway lands, a placid, prosperous home can feel like a very distant place.
As always, Kaylee’s boundless enthusiasm for each new person or patch of grass made her smile, and by the time they rounded the final corner half an hour later, Amanda felt almost relaxed. She hoped there might be a police cruiser in Sheri’s drive, but instead, parked behind her own motorcycle was a dusty red pickup.
As she mounted the front steps, she heard a low murmuring from inside, which stopped the moment the front door screeched open. She found Sheri in the kitchen, busying herself with a pot of tea. Lounging against the counter was a tall, lean man in jeans and a black T-shirt. His grey buzz cut and square shoulders screamed drill sergeant, but before Sheri could say a word, he eased away from the counter and extended a confident hand.
“You must be Amanda. I’m Jason Maloney, Grand Falls RCMP.”
His hand enveloped hers in a warm, comforting grip. The skin was rough and weathered, like his face. “Nice-looking little Kawie you’ve got out there.”
His smile was teasing and Amanda found herself blushing in spite of herself. Before she could ask about Phil, Kaylee rushed in to tangle herself in Jason’s long legs.
“Hey, boy!” He stooped to ruffle her fur, lost in the moment. His manner was casual. At home. Not at all like a cop on a missing-persons call. Amanda’s sixth sense prickled.
“He’s a she. Kaylee. What’s the plan about Phil?”
Maloney straightened as if called to attention.
“Corporal Maloney thinks we should keep it low-key —” Sheri began.
Maloney interrupted her. “Unofficial. For now. Phil’s a friend of mine and he’s having some rough times. No point in siccing the dogs on him.”
Amanda shot Sheri a dismayed glance. The woman was still in denial. What the hell had she told this guy? “But —”
“We can still accomplish a lot without putting it on the books. This may be a big island, but it’s a small place. People know each other and watch out for each other. They notice things. A word in the ear of a few friends in other detachments —”
Sheri was watching him as if