Chapter 12: Coming Back to Earth

Denis arrived home late Wednesday afternoon and we enjoyed another wonderful meal prepared by Cassie. It was her tradition to welcome her husband home from any road trip with something special, and I was the lucky addition to that table. After the meal and cleaning up the dishes, Denis and I retired to his study for a conversation.

"Colin, I think I can say with some confidence that your problems with the River Riders are coming to an end. The man you encountered on Monday was freelancing. Apparently, he had come to Scarborough to make his own drug deal, unknown to the club members. As you've probably guessed, we have someone on the inside of the gang and that's why we're fairly confident of our information.

"Turgeon must have recognized you from the past and decided to take a run at you on his own. Instead of informing his people, we're guessing he figured he'd be the hero of the day by taking you out. The gang itself has decided they've spent enough money and time on you with no results. You aren't a threat to them any more, and most of the old gang is now either dead or in jail. The new boys don't know you and couldn't care less about the past."

"I'm glad to hear it, Denis. I'm getting kind of tired of looking over my shoulder all the time."

He nodded understanding. "I know. I also feel fairly confident that you can go back to being Colin Stewart. I've done some checking with various law enforcement agencies and your fingerprints are either not on file or there is no information that would cause you a problem wherever you went. I suggest you re-establish your proper identity when you settle on where you want to live. The last time we talked about it, you seemed to be thinking about British Columbia."

"Yes. I think so. That's a huge relief, Denis. I don't know what you did or how you did it, but I'm really happy to be just Colin Stewart again. Just saying it in public takes a weight off my back."

"I'm sure it does," he smiled. "I'm glad I could help."

I booked my vacation and the flight was scheduled to leave early afternoon on the following Tuesday. I phoned Kayla and we planned on spending the coming weekend together. There was an American League hockey game at the Exhibition Grounds Saturday evening, and once again we could take the streetcar almost to the front door.

With some advice from Cassie, I booked a reservation at a nice restaurant not far from the arena. We could walk there or take a cab if the weather was foul. The weather was cloudy and cool, but not unpleasant. We had spent the day downtown, exploring the shops and generally enjoying each other's company. We never seemed to run out of topics of conversation. Kayla was incredibly well informed, and I felt like a student as she caught me up on politics, lifestyle changes, fashion, and of course, motorcycles.

We spent over an hour at a downtown Harley dealer, trying to decide if I wanted one, and if so, which one. It was fun. I thought it could wait until I was settled in Vancouver, but window shopping and listening to Kayla and the salesman talk shop was entertaining. I got the distinct impression she did her own servicing and likely some repairs as well.

"Yeah ... I've put some later modifications on my bike. It started out life as a '92, but it's probably something like a '01 or '02 now. It doesn't have a lot of hours on it, so I'm pretty sure I can get a good dollar for it if I want to sell it or trade it in." She obviously took a lot of pride in her ride and I admired that.

"I might look for a good used bike myself," I suggested. "Somewhere along the line, these bikes got more expensive than most cars."

"Yeah, but cars aren't anywhere near as much fun." She was convinced that I was likely to buy a motorcycle and she was probably right.

It wasn't until we were in the restaurant that I got a chance to talk to her about my plans. It was also time for me to come clean about my real identity.

"Kayla, I think I owe you an explanation and an apology," I began. "I've haven't been completely honest with you about who I am."

She looked up with interest, but not surprise.

"My real name is Colin Stewart. You already know I was a CSIS agent and I was in prison for eight years. I changed my name to protect myself and my friends, but it didn't work. I'm sorry if I misled you, but I thought it was essential. Recently, Denis let me know that it wasn't necessary any longer. I thought you should know."

I saw a small smile on her lips as she listened. "I was wondering when I'd get to know the real you. Cassie told me that you were someone special to them, but that you had gone through a very difficult time. I knew about the prison sentence and I knew you were with CSIS, but that's about all. I kind of guessed some of the rest. Cassie also told me about your latest adventure in the mall parking lot. You seem to attract trouble lately."

She didn't say it in an accusatory manner. In fact, it was almost with a touch of humour.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, I hope you aren't put off. I'd like to get to know you better and I was hoping you might feel the same way." I looked at her for a clue to how she was reacting.