Kelley Armstrong - Made to Be Broken

"Did she know this photographer's name?" I asked. "Or the name of the company he worked for?"

"No, but she said he worked in Toronto and…" Tess paused. "Maybe you should take notes."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry." I patted my pockets. In my business, you learn not to write anything down. I gave a wry smile. "Guess I'm not too prepared. Do you have -?"

Before I could finish, Tess darted through the rear door. A moment later she emerged, pencil and paper in hand.

"Okay. So he was from Toronto. He worked for a modeling agency that specializes in kids. For advertisements, she said. TV and magazines. She said he looked like a photographer. Like the guys in the AV club at school."

"A geek"

"Right. She didn't say anything specific, though. Oh, except that he didn't wear glasses. Like a grown-up AV guy, but without glasses. All the guys in our AV club wear glasses."

With each new bit of information, Tess grew more animated, excited to finally be able to help. As another pang of guilt shot through me, I told myself I was helping Sammi. Just not in the way Tess expected.

"She said he took a bunch of pictures of Destiny, plus two shots of Sammi holding her." Tess looked up at me. "Do you think that's important?"

"It might be. Everything you can tell me might be."

"He said Destiny was a beautiful baby. Just like her mom. I remember that because I asked Sammi if she thought he was hitting on her. She said no way, he was – oh, right, I forgot this. It might help. She said he was at least thirty. Old." Tess glanced at me and colored. "Uh, you know, old for her. Not, like, old in general."

"Trust me, some days, over thirty feels very old."

"That might help, right? An age? She said he didn't seem interested in her at all. I thought that was weird. Guys are always checking Sammi out. Even the old – older ones."

"So he didn't check her out? Or Sammi just didn't notice?"

"Oh, Sammi always noticed. But this guy was only interested in Destiny and he was all business, not even sneaking a look down Sammi's top when she leaned over. I guess that was good, huh? Not some pervert with a camera."

"Probably not."

Tess nibbled at a hangnail, then shook her head. "That's it. That's all she said. Just that one short conver sation."

"It gives me a place to start," I said. "You have a good memory."

"Yeah? Well, if it helps…" She went quiet, the momentary excitement draining away. "You think she's okay?"

"I – I don't know, Tess."

She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. "Well, okay, then. If there's anything more I can do…"

"I'll let you know."

She stepped away, then turned sharply. "I'll be off for lunch in a few minutes. I could show you where she met the guy. The exact spot in the park. You used to be a cop, right? Maybe you could take fingerprints or something."

"Um, sure."

"Meet you there in ten minutes?"

I nodded and Tess walked back into the store, her step a little lighter. Of course, I couldn't take fingerprints. Any evidence would have vanished, washed away by rain or obliterated by other park users. But it would make Tess feel better.

Tess showed me the bench where Sammi had been sitting with Destiny. I took notes and promised to come back after dark to do forensic work.

As she headed back to work, I cut through the park to meet up with Jack at the diner.

"Scene of the crime?"

The voice startled me from my thoughts and I spun to see him on a bench beside the cenotaph. He lifted his lit cigarette, with a grunt that probably translated to "want some?" I did. I haven't officially smoked in years, but I'm not above taking a drag off Jack's now and then, especially if I could use the nicotine hit to calm my swirling thoughts.

When I passed it back, he put it out on the bench, then stuffed the butt in his pocket. It'd been less than half smoked. Just an excuse to hang out in the park, then.

"Scene of the crime?" he repeated, waving at the spot through the trees, where he must have seen me with Tess.

A short laugh. "Something like that. It's where they met the photographer. Tess wanted me to check it out, maybe pull some forensic evidence, which I can't, of course, but I wasn't telling her that." I shoved my hands in my pockets, my gaze magnetized to the distant Ernst home. I told Jack what I'd learned. "Not much, but I'll give – "

When I stopped, he followed my gaze to Janie's place.

"There's a For Sale sign," I murmured. "That wasn't there when I broke in last week."

"That's her house?"

I nodded.

"Fuck." He shook his head.

I took three steps, squinting, as if there might be some way to mistake Benny Durant's neon-yellow realtor signs.

"For sale…" I whispered, walking closer.

Jack followed. "Not gonna get much."

"The land's worth something, being right in the core. It's hardly downtown Toronto, but there's some value there. I know the town offered to buy Janie out a few years ago. They really just wanted to get rid of the eyesore. They offered her fair market value plus, by order of the White Rock Town Council, an additional payment of five hundred dollars."

"Generous folks," he said, stepping up beside me.

"Oh, they are. Janie told them where they could stuff their offer."

"Don't blame her."

"Then from what I heard, she blackmailed the mayor for twice that much by threatening to tell his wife about the special services she paid His Honor to avoid property citations."

"That the same mayor I saw in the diner?"

"Looks like he got hit in the face with a brick?"

A twitch of a smile. "Yeah. Doesn't seem much of a Romeo."

"You haven't seen Janie. My guess, she takes what she can get and, if she can turn a profit, calls it a bonus. She's none too bright, but she's got a keen sense of self-preservation and not an ethical boundary in sight." My gaze traveled over the house. "If your daughter disappeared, would you decide that's a good time to pack up and move?"

He shrugged. "Don't have kids. Suppose you might. Memories and all that."

"I can't see Janie moving to avoid reminders of her daughter. But even if there is some hidden wellspring of maternal love there, would she take off so soon? After a few months maybe. But days ? When Sammi could still call? Show up on her doorstep?"

I looked at the house again. Jack said nothing, just waited.

"You'd almost get the impression she knew Sammi wasn't coming back." I glanced over at him. He stared straight ahead.

I scanned the businesses along the street. "Benny should be in the office today. That's the realtor. I'll go see what he can tell me about this. You can wait – "

"I'll come."

"You wanted to keep a low profile – "

"I'm coming."

He meant he wanted to keep an eye on me, make sure I kept my emotions and my imagination in check. That smarted, but not as much as knowingI needed that check.

I headed for the sidewalk, leaving him to follow.

Benny Durant sat at his big oak desk in the window, an extra-large take-out coffee at his elbow, a copy of Macleans in his hand – probably with a less salubrious magazine tucked inside it.

Durant was a good ol' boy who'd lived here all his life and chased away competition with the ferocity of a junkyard dog. Friendly and affable, he had a smile for everyone and a "special deal" for all his "friends." Though he was canny enough to take advantage of a client's real estate naiveté, he always stopped short of an outright swindle.

I'd bought the lodge from Durant, and was happy enough with the deal to send him a steady stream of people looking to make the area a permanent vacation destination with a new cottage. Few of those leads translated into sales. That, too, was typical for a town like White Rock. People spend a week, and are seduced by wilderness life: the clean air, the endless lakes, the peace and quiet, the friendly people. They start thinking they'd like to purchase a piece of this paradise.