A Killing Frost. Margaret Haffner
‘Call me Catherine,’ she said with a smile. ‘Cool temperatures and trees.’ She gestured to the forest behind her. ‘I miss the trees.’
Ed nodded. ‘Know what you mean. I moved here from Thunder Bay and I just can’t get used to the flatness and lack of trees.’
‘So you’re not a native of these parts either.’
‘No way.’ Ed heaved his pack from the bottom of the canoe. ‘Want some orange juice?’
‘Thanks.’ She settled down on a mossy stump while Ed squatted beside her. She accepted the juice box eagerly – she hadn’t intended to work up a thirst. ‘When did you move to Atawan?’ she asked.
‘Four years ago.’ Ed grimaced. ‘Not a good move.’
‘Why not?’
Ed hesitated a long time before answering. ‘Business is slow,’ he finally replied.
She sipped her juice. ‘I’m surprised. You’re the only mechanic in town.’
Ed smiled ruefully. ‘That’s why I bought the place – thought I’d make a good living for me and my boy.’
‘Jason, right?’ Catherine stretched her legs out in front of her. ‘My daughter’s in a couple of his classes.’ And he turned her down for the dance, she added to herself; he mustn’t be as friendly as his dad. ‘Jason’s mother … she doesn’t live with you?’
A spasm of pain flitted across Ed’s face. ‘She died five years ago. Cancer.’
‘I’m sorry …’ She picked at the moss, ripping off a ragged square.
Ed got up and brushed off his pants. ‘Want a ride back to the parking lot?’
‘Would it be faster than walking?’
Ed laughed. ‘With me paddling? Only a little but it would be less effort and you seem to be limping.’
Catherine ignored the question in his voice. ‘OK, thanks. I’ll push the canoe off.’
The subtle murmurings of nature accompanied them as the canoe drifted along the current, helped by Ed’s slow paddling. Catherine trailed her fingers in the water, leaving a wake of tiny ripples. Feeling Ed’s eyes on her back, she straightened self-consciously, then smiled at herself for doing so. She had to admit she liked the man – he seemed so uncomplicated. However, it was his very simplicity which made her feel a fraud. She had no intention of revealing her past to him – at least not yet.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Ed broke in on her reverie.
‘Oh … I … I was thinking about Morgan, my daughter. She said your Jason is very reserved. Kind of a loner.’
‘Jason said the same about her,’ Ed retorted.
‘I’m not surprised.’ Catherine twisted around to see her companion. ‘We’re new, and Morgan’s very shy. She has trouble making friends and everyone here knows everyone else. It’s hard to break in.’
Ed nodded in agreement as he shifted his paddle to the other side of the canoe. ‘For adults as well.’
She remembered the strange reaction in the restaurant when Ed had come in to talk to her. If that was how he was treated after four years, she didn’t have a chance of fitting in. Had she made a mistake in coming to Atawan?
‘We’re here,’ Ed announced, giving one last powerful stroke to send the bow of the canoe crunching on to the beach.
She climbed out and pulled the canoe farther out of the water. ‘I’ll take the fishing gear,’ she offered, gathering up the pole and tackle box.
‘My truck’s over there.’ Ed gestured to the nearby copse of trees where the pick-up was hidden in the dense shade. He frowned. ‘What the …’ He dropped his pack and his paddle and raced towards the vehicle. A figure detached itself from the shadow as Ed lunged.
‘What the hell are you doing to my truck?’ Ed yelled, grabbing the stranger by the arm and yanking him backwards.
Catherine edged closer, eyes wide. The struggling figure was the Jimmy Grant who had helped install her window.
Ed gripped a handful of shirt and twisted it at the neck of his quarry. ‘Answer me!’ he hissed through gritted teeth.
‘Nothin’!’ the youth squealed. ‘Let me go.’
Ed levered the boy around to face the truck. ‘See that gouge in the paintwork, Jimmy boy? That wasn’t there an hour ago.’
‘So?’ Despite his position, his voice rang with insolence.
‘So?’ Ed sputtered. ‘So there’s paint on the keys sticking out of your fingers. How did that get there?’
‘Ed,’ Catherine called urgently, ‘don’t hurt him!’
In the second Ed’s attention was drawn to Catherine, Jimmy wrenched himself free and ran a few strides before turning to face his accuser. He spat, the gob of mucus glinting on the grass between them. ‘You should’ve left town right after the trial,’ he snarled, smoothing his close-cropped hair. ‘Now we’re gonna run you out. This town don’t like lady killers.’
Anger burned in Ed’s eyes as Jimmy sprinted to his motorcycle, gunned the engine and took off, spraying his audience with a shower of dirt and gravel.
Catherine stared after the motorbike until it disappeared, then she turned back to Ed who stood glaring after the teenager.
She watched the anger spots in Ed’s cheeks gradually fade. He stood limp beside his pick-up, his hands loose at his sides, his breathing laboured.
Feeling like a voyeur, Catherine hurried to her car. Ed didn’t seem to notice until the Datsun’s engine sputtered into the uneasy stillness. She saw his stricken face staring after her as she accelerated out of the drive.
Once on the main road, she drove slowly. So that was it. A whole lot of strange things were beginning to make sense. Ed had killed Tracy Tomachuk. And she had just been canoeing with him …
Mavis Bigelow, ubiquitous dishcloth in hand, peered out of the window of the café towards Royce’s Garage. He wasn’t there yet. She looked at her watch – almost eight-thirty. Ed didn’t come in as early as he used to, before Tracy’s murder. She retied her crisp white apron and brushed imaginary crumbs off her red blouse. Red was her best colour.
She straightened the salt and pepper shakers on the nearest table, aligning them with military precision as her mind floated free. Why oh why had she reacted so violently when Ed had come in for his coffee? He hadn’t been back since and it was her fault – hers and her brother Barry’s. Barry had literally thrown him out. If only she’d stood up for Ed …
It had taken Mavis months to come to terms with his arrest – to convince herself he was a murderer. Her brother, on the other hand, had denounced him from the moment the handcuffs had snapped shut on his wrists. Now Ed was free – not guilty – and Tracy was dead. Would he come back to her?
‘He isn’t in yet, so stop gawking,’ Barry growled, coming up behind his sister.
Mavis jumped. ‘Don’t sneak up on me like that!’ She hunched her shoulder and began straightening chairs. ‘What are you talking about, anyway?’
‘As if you don’t know.’ Barry snorted. ‘I’ve seen you carrying coffee over to Ed. Think I’m blind?’ He waggled a meaty finger in his sister’s face. ‘You’re playing with fire.’
Mavis busied herself polishing the sugar bowls. ‘Why won’t you let him come here?’
‘’Cause