Chapter 10: A Spectacular Detective

I slept well that night, but images of a beautiful blonde drifted through my nocturnal thoughts. I awoke rested, but well aware of those images and the effects they had on me. I was surprised that this woman was having such a dramatic impact on me, and I was determined to spend more time with her if she would allow it.

"Good morning, Colin," Cassie sang. She was in cheerful spirits as usual. I saw a crepe pan on the stove.

"Are you making what I think you are making?" fingers crossed.

"I know you used to love crepes. I hope you still do," she smiled. Denis gave me a 'thumbs up' signaling his vote.

"I haven't had them for so long, I've almost forgotten. You are spoiling me rotten, Cassie."

"We don't see each other very often, Colin. It's fun for me to treat you to these dishes. I'm just happy you enjoy them."

"I'm very grateful. Thank you," I said sincerely.

"I gather you enjoyed the company we chose last night," Denis said with sly look.

"Yes. Very much so. She is quite a beautiful and interesting woman. I'd like to get to know her better. She tells me she's a private detective. That's an amazing coincidence."

"Yes, it is, isn't it," Cassie said. She wasn't telling all either. If this was all a plot on their part, I wasn't about to complain. I was getting the benefit.

It was nearing noon when I finally had a chance to call Kayla. I had already entered her number on my cell phone.

"Hello." Her voice was like still water, clear and soft.

"Hi ... it's Nathan. Good morning."

"Good morning. Nice to hear from you."

"We promised we would talk today. Can you find some time?"

"Yes. Why don't you come here? It isn't far from the Simard's."

She gave me the address and we agreed I would be there in about an hour. I was looking forward to being with Kayla and learning more about her.

She was standing at the storm door as I walked up the steps to her porch. The smile on her face told me she was happy to see me.

"Hi," I said, stepping into the foyer of the townhouse.

"Hi again," she smiled. "Would you like some coffee?"

I followed her to the kitchen. The house was older, but it was immaculate, something I took as a big positive. It looked very neat and organized and I took that as a sign of a disciplined person.

"I enjoyed our evening last night," I began.

"Yes. Me too. But I should confess I knew something about you before we met. Denis and Cassie gave me some background on you."

"I guess that's inevitable. They've been kind of looking out for me for a long time. Just what did they tell you?"

"That you'd been in prison for something that wasn't your fault. That you were in CSIS. That your parents had been killed ... murdered."

"That's quite a lot. I suppose that would put you off."

"You're wrong. Your life went to shit and you handled it. All I needed to do was watch you for a few minutes last night at the hockey game. I knew you were under control. Besides," she laughed, "Cassie said you were a pussy cat."

"You're forgetting Cassie hasn't seen me for over eight years. Things can change. People can change. I know I've changed." There was something nagging at me and it surfaced then. It was very unlike Denis to give out that kind of information, even if she was a trusted family friend.

"I'm surprised that Denis told you as much as he did. That isn't normal for him. There must be a reason."

She didn't waste any time replying. "I was with the RCMP for ten years. I was assigned to the internal security detail in Montreal, then Ottawa. I got to know more about Denis's job then. We were working together on the same project as you were involved in." There was no hesitation on her part. Her story seemed plausible.

"Then you know what happened," I said.

"Yes. I also know why it happened. I was assigned to parliamentary security. I knew more than enough to figure out who felt threatened."

"Why did you leave the force?"

"It wasn't voluntary. I ... I had an affair with another officer. He was married. His wife found out and raised holy hell. I was given the opportunity to resign so that it could be hushed up. I took it.

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Three years. I worked for Metro Toronto security, then applied for my private investigator license. I've been working at York Investigative for the last eighteen months."

"You like the work?"

"I would, if I could get some decent assignments. I'm afraid it's a men's only club. I get assigned to the usual wayward spouse case ... or once in a while, a screening on a prospective employee. I'm not sure this is what I want to do if that's all that I'm going to be assigned."

"Yeah. My feelings exactly. The reason I reacted the way I did last night was because a very good friend of mine wants me to come to work for him. He runs a private investigation business, but it's more geared toward commercial and industrial crime. Fraud, theft, espionage ... that sort of thing. I told him I wouldn't be interested if it was just following people to find out if they are cheating. He assured me it's not what they do any more ... at least ... not very often."

"Shit. I'd give anything for that kind of assignment. I don't even get a sniff of it at York."

"What's your educational background," I asked.

"Bachelor of Science in Chemistry. Damned if I know why now. When I graduated, the only jobs were in the petrochemical industry, and that's not what I wanted. I was looking for a small lab that did research, and that meant I needed at least a masters. I looked around for something that might interest me and chose the RCMP. The rest you know about."

I did a little arithmetic. Twenty two or older when graduating, ten years with the Mounties and another three since then. She was older than she looked. At least thirty five, I thought. Amazing. She barely looked to be in her thirties.

"Would you be interested in meeting my friend? He's always looking for good people," I smiled.

"I gather he's in Vancouver?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Hell no! It's a bonus," she laughed.

"Fine. Let me make a phone call tomorrow morning. I'll talk to Harold. If he's interested, you can set up an interview. I'll fly you out, so you'll need some time off. Can you get it?"

"Yes. I'm barely working full time as it is. But ... I don't want to have you spending your money on a wild goose chase. I'll pay for my own flight ... and hotel. I can afford it."

"So can I, and since this is my idea, I insist." I was forceful, but smiling at the same time. No more was said about it, so I assumed she would agree.

Kayla lived in a nice townhouse on the edge of a park near the Don River. Away from the freeway, it was quiet and very settled. Fall was almost here, but it was too early for the trees to be changing yet. It had been a warm late summer, and this Sunday the park was full of people walking, jogging, and roller-blading.

We found plenty of things to talk about. I opened up to her about my past. Denis had given her a lot of information, but she was curious about my time in prison and my attitude today. I told her of my anger and disgust with Taggart and his superiors. I told her about Natasha too. She hadn't heard about the shooting and Natasha's death, but she listened intently as I described how upset I felt after having killed someone. Even someone as evil as Warrington.

"It's all very fresh, Kayla. It only happened a few days ago. I don't know what I have to look forward to in the future. I'm not sure if the police will be after me ... or what? I don't feel guilty about killing him. I feel guilty as hell about not being able to protect Natasha. She didn't deserve what happened to her. Neither did my parents."

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders as we walked down the pathway by the river. It felt comfortable and natural, and I relaxed. Kayla was a very good listener.

"Are you going back to Vancouver?" she asked after a while.

"Yes. I need to see Harold ... the friend I will call on your behalf tomorrow morning. He keeps in very close touch with both the city police and the RCMP. He'll know what's going on. That will tell me what to do."