“Yes. She described the meeting with Laraque and the woman.”
“Rhapsody.”
“Rhapsody, yes. She had been spending a lot of time with her. I already knew that part. But this was the first time she had met Laraque in person. From the way she described him…”
“Yes?”
“She told me that she had a gut feeling Laraque had seen through the whole trap. That he was just playing with her. With everyone.”
Moreland was busy taking notes. Perhaps this was helping him. Doing this police business, writing things down like I’m sure he’d done a thousand times before.
“She also told me,” I went on, “that you didn’t like the idea of her going undercover in the first place.”
He looked up at me. “She told you that?”
“Yes, she did. I guess you could say that you and I were both in complete agreement on that point.”
He looked down at his pad. He wasn’t writing anything now. He was just staring at the words.
“So you left her at your cabin,” he finally said. “How long were you gone?”
“Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.”
“You live in a pretty isolated place, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“When you came back, you saw a vehicle?”
“I saw taillights. That’s all.”
“You can’t tell us anything else about the vehicle?”
“No, I’m sorry. It was a little foggy.”
“It was foggy.”
“Yes.”
“So you were gone for fifteen or twenty minutes. And when you came back…”
He looked down at the paper again.
“I didn’t hear anything,” I said. “I know that’s the next question. The cabin was close enough for me to hear a gunshot.”
“So whoever this was, he used a suppressor.”
“It would seem.”
“You heard about Don Resnik. We estimate he was killed about six hours before Natalie, although he wasn’t found until the next day. Someone shot him in his apartment. His body was right by the door. So they figure he answered the door and got it right then. Whether he looked through his peephole or not…Well, in any case, he still had his wallet. Nothing else looked out of place. So it wasn’t a random robbery.”
“Was it the same gun that killed him?”
“No, it wasn’t. The ammunition was similar, but it was definitely two different guns.”
“But it still could have been the same person,” I said. “He could have made it from Toronto to Paradise in six hours.”
“Yes, although he probably would have had to take a plane. Which would explain a change of guns. We’re checking on that angle right now. Everyone who flew into Chippewa Airport. Or Pelston. Or Soo, Canada. Any airport that would have gotten him to your place in time.”
“So what about Laraque? Does anyone know where he was all day?”
“The folks in Toronto tell me he was seen several times that day. They were definitely keeping an eye on him.”
“It could have been somebody working for him.”
“It could have been, yes. But how did this person know to find Natalie in your cabin? That’s the question I keep coming back to.”
“I don’t know the answer. I really don’t.”
“Why would Laraque have two police officers killed, anyway? If you look at it objectively, it’s probably the dumbest thing he could ever do.”
“Why?” I said. “Because it would turn up the heat on him? If he knew he was getting set up, how much more heat could he feel? Maybe this was a message to you and to those guys in Toronto, and to every other law enforcement officer in the country.”
“You’re assuming he considers himself untouchable then.”
“If he does,” I said, “I’d like the chance to prove him wrong.”
“Meaning what? If you knew for sure that it was him-”
“What would I want to do to him? Once again, Sergeant, I think we’d be in total agreement.”
“What I’d want to do is build a good case against him and put him away forever.”
“You’re speaking like a police officer now,” I said. “But as a man…as a friend who loved her…I think you’d have a different idea.”
“I understand what you’re saying. That’s why we follow the law instead of our own personal motives.”
“I was a cop for eight years, Sergeant Moreland. I know all about what the law can do. And what it can’t do. There’s knowing something without any doubt, and there’s being able to prove it in a courtroom. It’s not always the same thing.”
He put the pen down and sat back in his chair.
“You see, this is where we run into a real problem, Mr. McKnight.” He looked over at Maven, who had been sitting there as still as a wax replica the whole time. “What do you think, Chief?”
“I can understand what McKnight is saying,” Maven said. “I’d have the same thoughts myself. But ultimately…”
“The phone,” I said.
They both looked at me.
“When they found Resnik, you said he still had his wallet, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did he have his cell phone?”
“I honestly don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Natalie called him that day. First she called the Mounties’ office to check in. Then she called Resnik to see how he was doing.”
“But if she used her cell phone…”
“She didn’t. She used my phone. A regular landline.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she wasn’t getting a signal. Cell phones never work very well in Paradise.”
“So if she called Resnik on your phone…,” Moreland said. “It wouldn’t be too hard to trace it back to you. The number’s right there on the phone, in the caller history. You have a listed number?”
“Yes.”
“They look it up in a reverse directory. Hell, they could have gone to the Internet, looked you up in three seconds. They’ve got your name, your address…”
“Six hours later…,” I said. Suddenly, I was feeling sick to my stomach.
Moreland picked up his pen again and started writing.
“I can’t do any more of this right now,” he finally said. He sounded tired. He sounded like he’d be gone from this job in a matter of days. “I do have something to give you, though.”
He stood up and left the room. When he came back, he had a folded-up blue flag in his arms. There was a small wooden box on top of the flag, and on top of the box was a hat. I recognized it immediately.
“Her medals are in this box,” Moreland said, “along with her badge and her warrant card. Ordinarily, all of these items go to the nearest member of her immediate family. As you know, Natalie’s family is all pretty much gone. So I figured, in her mind anyway, you’d be as close to family as anyone else.”
He put everything down on the table.
“I’ll be honest, Mr. McKnight. I often thought that you were the worst thing that ever happened to her. Whenever there was trouble in her life, you seemed to be right there in the middle of it. But maybe I was wrong about that. I don’t know. Maybe you were her last chance at being happy.”
He put his hand on the hat for a moment, lightly.
