course. Why do you ask?” Ann’s tone was defensive, and her spine stiffened, though Holly saw her wince.
Flashing a smile that she hoped looked reassuring, Holly added a casual gesture. “No reason. That’s fine then. Tell me how it goes.”
Fossil Bay was too small to justify the many programs of a larger division, such as Restorative Justice, Drug and Alcohol Counselling, or Family Counselling, but friskier retirees liked to combine their daily exercise with bike-patrol duty. Those who could drive to French Beach or China Beach worked the Park Watch, writing down license plates for reference in case thefts occurred. Young Sean Carter kept an eye out for “suspicious” activity, including abandoned cars and trash dumping. Garbage collection was privatized in the area and cost about twelve dollars a month per household.
Ann lined up a pack of bright, kid-style brochures fresh from headquarters. “I like going to the school. At that age they’re still open to ideas.”
Holly remembered Ann’s boy and saw an opportunity to reach out. “I guess you learned that raising...your son.”
In a rare gesture, Ann searched her eyes, as if to ascertain Holly’s sincerity. Apparently she found positive signs, because she continued. “The greatest school on earth. But Nick was a handful for awhile.”
Holly’s pulse jumped a few kilometres. How far should she go towards establishing friendship? Keep her radar open and pull back at the least sign of discomfort, banana-slug style? “That’s hard to believe. He’s a teacher now, isn’t he? You must be proud.”
Ann nodded, apparently warming to the conversation. “He could have become a serious problem at one point. Got in with a bad crowd. I was posted to Wawa when he was fifteen. Home of the giant goose, and I speak in a social sense, too. Absolutely nothing to do if you had no money for a snowmobile, boat, or motorcycle. We couldn’t even afford cable. Our rabbit ears pulled in one patchy U.S. station.”
Holly perched on the side of the desk in a casual but interested pose. “So what happened?”
Ann did an impromptu stretch. “Booze. He was picked up drunk after a house party gone bad. Three thousand dollars in damages. Two young girls nearly died from drinking punch from contaminated windshield fluid jugs. When he sobered up, I told him I’d sign him over to Children’s Aid if he pulled a stunt like that again. I arranged with a colleague to take him to the agency for an interview. Showed him some legal papers already filled out.”
Holly’s mouth opened at the imagination and the desperation. “Shock therapy. Would you really have...”
A thin smile crossed Ann’s mouth, the first so far. “I was very tempted. You have to know when your resources aren’t equal to your responsibilities. But he smartened up. First he got a part-time job at a motel, then a scholarship to Acadia University.”
“So your bluff worked. I wouldn’t have had the nerve. And where is he now?”
“He teaches high school up around Prince George. Third year already. English. Can you believe? He wants to be a novelist but knows he needs a day job.”
“Sounds sensible.” Holly had enjoyed their surprisingly productive conversation. Then as the wall clock ticked, she said, “Guess I’d better get moving. I thought we’d seen the last of Whitehouse, but now—”
Ann gave a dismissive snort. “I knew Phil Whitehouse when we were on the force together in Richmond. He’s a bully, but he usually gets the job done, methods aside. Don’t think he’d remember me, though.”
Holly had seen a graduation picture of Ann in the files, fit and determined, a world away from those extra twenty pounds. “He’s over fifty, old enough to be a Superintendent or even Chief Super. What’s holding him back?”
Ann assumed an owlish look increased by the two small puffs of hair over each temple. “Hot temper. He socked another inspector shortly after making the grade. Seems the other guy blew a case he’d worked on. They’ve had their eyes on him ever since. He never backs down. Gets his teeth in like a bulldog on a bear. Problem is, if he’s wrong, then there’s no steering him off the road to hell.”
Gravel crunched outside from a braking bike. Ten-year-old Sean came in and walked up to Ann, admiration clear in his shining butterscotch eyes. His round cheeks were pinked with exertion, and he could barely catch his breath. “The school sent me over. Are you ready? Can I carry anything?” He gave her a winning smile. Like many south coast youngsters, he wore long, baggy shorts well into the fall. Holly had seen him walking in a downpour with no umbrella, just a hoodie over his head. Immune to rain, with the high metabolism of youth. His sweatshirt bore the picture of a familiar detrivore: Nanner Slugs Rule!
Ann handed him a bundle of flyers and bookmarks. Clearly she had bent the principles by making Sean an honourary member of the Bicycle Patrol even though the official age was nineteen. He couldn’t have a uniform, but she’d found him an old badge for his jacket. It read: RCMP GRC: Gendarmerie Royale Canadien POLICE, with the crown at the top adapted from St. Edward’s for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
“I hear you’ve been doing a great job as our...auxiliary member in training.” Holly shook Sean’s small hand, then gave him a salute.
He saluted back in smart style. “I’m going to be a horseman when I grow up. Are you called a horsewoman?”
“Close enough. Though we drive our ponies now.”
“Cool. I have my own horse. Daisy’s fifteen.”
Many households with acreage kept horses, the benefits of a rural zone. Holly felt his enthusiasm blow through the detachment like a healthy breeze. Working with the community made a strong alliance. “Then you might like to try out for the Musical Ride.”
Ann’s face relaxed. With the distraction of the boy, Holly was enjoying the interaction. Had the tension been broken?
With talents like Ann’s, Holly could imagine the humiliation of a desk job. Was there another way she could contribute? The small team could start to build on its individual gifts.
“Pardon us for one more second, Sean. Official business.” While he put a finger on each of the Wanted posters on the bulletin board as he read the information, Holly pulled Ann aside. “This crystal meth connection. See what you can learn from your students.”
Ann reached for her jacket. Her large hand had strong, blunt nails. “Oh, come on. They’re too young.”
“So I hope, but they have brothers and sisters. And younger kids are always underfoot. They may have heard something.”
“That’s true.” Ann opened the door for Sean. “And for the best picture of drug use out here, call Sooke. Ask for Corporal Hoicks.”
Andrea Bonhomme passed her and settled into the front desk with a large thermos. She was tall and willowy, a retired loans officer. Her strawberry blonde hair was gathered in one gorgeous braid down her back. Like them, she wore traditional shirt and pants with a volunteer patch. Without people like Andrea to fill in the gaps, life would be much more difficult for the detachment.
As Holly learned when she called, Corporal Hoicks had worked with the Drug Unit in Victoria and had his finger on the pulse of the Capital Region. The man’s voice was ragged with concern. “Christ, yes, it’s a regular epidemic. And we haven’t even seen the tip of the iceberg yet. Sorry for the lame joke. Meth is as
