The first picture was a cat. The next, a dog playing catch, and the other picture was Cecil, sitting on the bedspread reading his book. Christine got the detail of his pants. She captured the wispy strands of black hair that clung to the wall because static pulled at his scalp.
Meghan closed the folder and handed it back to Cecil.
“You should frame those pictures.”
Cecil shrugged and returned the folder to the desk drawer. He closed it gently and returned to the bedspread.
“So, doesn’t Christine have a drawing pad she used for her work?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I saw the pictures in the folder have the same textured paper—the kind used from a drawing pad. The top edges of the pictures have perforation, where the pages clung to the ring. Did she have more than one pad? I’d think your sister had so much inside that she wanted to get it all down on paper.”
“I think she has a drawing pad.”
“Did she have more than one?”
“I think so, why?”
“I wanted to see what she drew.”
“I don’t know where they are,” Cecil said. He made a face that looked like he had an upset stomach. “I could ask mom.”
“No, that’s fine. Maybe some other time, if you happen to find them, I’d love to see more of her work.”
“Okay.”
“I am so sorry that something happened to Christine. You can call Lester any time if you want to talk about it. I know it’s hard sometimes talking to people about that stuff. But we’ve all had someone close to us who isn’t here anymore.”
Cecil frowned. “You gave me your business card. You’re not around anymore?” He compared Lester’s uniform to Meghan’s civilian clothing.
“I’ll be around for a few weeks, maybe. But I might be leaving Kinguyakkii.”
“Did you get into trouble?” he asked.
“I did, yes.” Meghan felt dealing with children when they heard honesty; it made them feel better. Most kids got used to hearing lies their whole lives that when an adult condescended to a child, they learned to accept it without putting it to mean anything useful. Meghan knew children respected adults who didn’t tell lies. The Easter Bunny, Santa, the little harmless things sometimes led to more elaborate tales that didn’t serve a purpose or point a child in the right direction.
“What happened?”
“We need to go,” Lester said. He tugged on Meghan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cecil, you take care of yourself.”
“Thank you, Chief Sheppard.”
“It’s only Meghan now.” She smiled at him and closed the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Lester drove back to the house on Rurik Way, using more turns than he needed. Meghan understood he avoided the main roadways. He went around businesses and homes where people lived and worked for the city. They were the kind of people who knew Meghan on sight and might phone in a sighting if they felt she needed to leave well enough alone. Meghan didn’t want another dispute or clash with the mayor.
“I’m worried someone will see me and call Duane,” Meghan shouted over the drone of the engine.
“What are they going to do?” Lester asked. “I’m all they got.”
“I am disappointed Oliver quit and left you working alone.”
“I’m still mad you had a pissing contest with the FBI and lost.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t mind the occasional ogling, but when it comes to touching, that is a privilege one needs to ask for before they do it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’m talking about handling Christine’s Missing Person’s case and letting your friend move in and take over like it was all her idea.”
“Well, I don’t have any excuses for Dana. She’s always been a little high strung. But, like you, all that took me by surprise.”
“I saw how she acted and talked down to us. I’ve seen that from time to time. People think we’re a bunch of inbred Eskimos up here. They see the color of our skin and the shape of our eyes and they think we’re unable to formulate intelligent conversations. They think we’re stereotypes, or simpletons. We’re incapable of being active people.”
“Once upon a time, I’d argue against Dana showing racial tendencies. Now I see a woman who doesn’t grasp the sense of the world around her. I feel like she doesn’t see how much she doesn’t get what’s going on and thinks it’s okay to take over.” Meghan gripped the back rack on the four-wheeler as Lester went around the corner, gravel spit along the side. “I can’t apologize for her. But I understand how you feel.”
Lester pulled up short and skidded to a stop in front of the house. He dismounted quickly, bumping Meghan before she could move out of the way. He took the few steps to the top and opened the front door.
Meghan followed Lester into the house. There was a point where she thought backing up Lester meant to protect him. Once he got on the scent of alcohol in his town, she knew to protect Eugene from Lester. He did not want booze in his town. They arrived in time to see Eugene leave the bathroom. He still wore the boxer briefs that looked a few months old without washing and a t-shirt. He looked at them with genuine surprise.
“Eugene, where did you get the booze?” Lester asked.
He stepped away from Meghan before she hooked a hand around Lester’s elbow.
“You can’t come in here,” Eugene sputtered. He waved a pointed finger at Lester. “You get out—ouch!”
Lester grabbed Eugene’s arm by the wrist in a move Meghan taught him. He tweaked
