CONSTABLE PAUL DICKENSON PARKED his police van beside Charlotte’s Prius at the entrance to the Valley River Gorge Road. After the usual cordiality, Constable Malone went to get their search dog, Rusty, from the back of the van while Paul went over Charlotte’s earlier report to 911. When he finished, Paul tried to reach Edward at both his home and workplace.
“Hmm,” Paul mumbled under his breath as he returned the cell to its holder on his belt.
“No luck?” Charlotte asked. Paul shook his head in response. “I know this area pretty well. If Edward’s somewhere down there, I can help you find him,” she added.
“I appreciate your offer, Charlotte, and I can see you’re concerned, but at this stage we’re best trained to do that,” Paul replied, patting Rusty’s head. “He’s a damn good search dog.”
“Edward may have fallen to foul play,” she added.
“It’s too early to fret about that Charlotte. Don’t let your imagination get the better of you. Are you listening to me?”
“I hear you. It’s just …”
“I know,” Paul interjected. “But sometimes what you think you saw or heard often turns out to have a whole different meaning. We’d better get going while we still have light. If you think of anything else you may have seen or heard, call me, okay?”
Paul did not wait for her reply as he joined Richard and Rusty, who were already heading down the Gorge Road. As she watched them disappear, Charlotte decided to take a detour on her way home and drop by Edward’s property.
Charlotte turned off the asphalt-surfaced Artemesia-Glenelg Townline and onto the recently graded and freshly graveled North Line Road toward Edward’s place, just outside of the town of Priceville. The route, lined with old stately oak and maple trees, wound lazily through the countryside.
As she drove, her mind drifted back to the time when she and Edward had first met.
Along with the other grade nine students, Charlotte and her friend Susan Mueller had attended the high school the day before formal classes to participate in a mandatory orientation program in the auditorium. The school’s counseling department had divided the students into groups alphabetically. After the counselor in each group had explained the function of their department, they were then introduced to their student leader. It was then she had first met Edward.
After the principal delivered her welcoming address and left the stage, the approaching sounds of a marching band generated excitement among the students. The atmosphere became electric as the room fell dark and the flood lights to the stage went on. The band, student council, cheerleaders and football team marched in from both sides of the stage. Morris McAlistair, the president of the student council, came to the mike and waited for the band to finish the school song. When all had settled down, he gave a short address on the purpose of the student council and then quickly introduced his executive before carrying on to the cheerleaders and football team. The new quarterback for the team, Edward Slocum, had been conspicuously singled out by his good friend Morris. When Morris had finished, balloons dropped down from the ceiling above the stage and cascaded onto the gym floor, where they were cheerfully exploded by the scurrying frenzy of students.
A large screen slowly lowered from behind the ceiling curtain that fronted the stage, and the lyrics to the school song were projected onto it. When the band struck up, each group in turn was encouraged to sing the most raucous, dramatic version of the school’s song without getting too far out of tune. Charlotte’s group, which was all girls, excelled. She had already become attracted to the charismatic quarterback leading her group to the heights of fun-filled foolishness.
Late summer melted into autumn during her first year in high school, and Charlotte spent her weekends at Susan’s learning how to horseback ride. During one of her riding sessions, Morris, who had become Susan’s boyfriend, showed up with Edward. Edward hung around talking to Charlotte about the school’s upcoming football game and the strategy they were going to use to beat the Hanover Devils; she tended to her horse in the stable. Then, out of the blue, he asked her to go with him to the Halloween dance at school. Immediately she knew her answer was yes, but she had contained herself and had refused to give him a definite answer under the pretense of obtaining her parents’ okay. She then kept him waiting almost a week before she told him yes.
He had kissed her for the first time at that dance, and for the next two years, they were an item at their high school. Then after June graduation their relationship changed.
Charlotte still had two more years to go before graduation and she did not relish the thought of being separated from him while he attended university. The time they spent together during that summer increasingly erupted into argument. Two weeks before he left for university, she was invited to his parents’ cottage on Georgian Bay, an hour north of Markdale. A fresh body of water, Georgian Bay spills into Lake Huron, one of the Great Lakes.
She remembered those two weeks spent with Edward and his parents as the best time of the summer. They boated, trekked, sang around campfires, played games and toured the area along the coast-line from Collingwood to Meaford. It was also the first time she and Edward made love.
By the time she had graduated from high school, their relationship was hanging by a thread. She barely saw him. Then, one evening, after a short phone call from him, it was over. She had later learned through his friend Morris that Edward had been dating a girl he had met during his second year.
A year later, Charlotte was the maid of honour at Susan’s upcoming wedding to Morris. It was during the prenuptial rehearsal that she met Edward again; he was Morris’s best man. It was also the first time she met Karen.
When Edward moved back to West Grey to take on his new position at KemKor Pharmaceuticals, she learned that Morris and Susan were invited to a party that Edward and Karen were throwing at their new property, called Pine Meadows. Though she didn’t say anything to Susan, Charlotte wanted to go if for no other reason than a general interest in seeing how Edward may have changed since she’d last seen him.
Two days after Susan had spoken to her about the party, she received a phone call from Karen inviting her. Charlotte accepted.
Before Karen’s untimely death, Charlotte and she had become friends in a small way. Though invited to several parties at their home, Charlotte only attended that one time.
Charlotte’s Toyota Prius rumbled across a rusting iron bridge over one of the many convoluted paths carved out by the Saugeen River. When she returned to the gravel road, she noticed horses standing under a tree near a pond. Moss-covered rail fencing fronted stunted corn fields on one side of the road while white-painted wooden fencing lined the other. The rollicking song of Bobolinks intermingled with the mooing sounds of cattle, which either grazed or lounged under the shade of trees. Ahead, two horseback riders came out of Edward’s lane and rode toward her. She pulled her car to the side of the road and put it into park. The field beside her was fenced with limestone boulders in various states of disrepair. On one of the rumpled hills behind the stone wall was an old, weather-beaten wagon that tilted on an empty front axle and was braced against a wagon wheel.
An SUV reversed down the same lane the horseback riders had just come down, and because of the etching on its rear window, she was sure it was the same Lincoln Navigator that almost dislodged her from the face of the cliff in the Gorge. When the Navigator came to a skidding halt on the road, plumes of dust engulfed it.
A man with a ponytail, who sat in the passenger seat, began pointing in her direction. Then, he and the driver got into an animated discussion. The black Lincoln Navigator slowly edged toward her.
Charlotte was about to put her vehicle into reverse when sunlight, reflecting off the rear window of the Navigator, momentarily blinded her. The lead horse reared, spilling the rider onto the road. Its front hoofs landed squarely on the front of her car causing the air bag to explode, stunning her. The Navigator stopped reversing and thrust forward, spitting out a shower of gravel that stung the hindquarters and flanks of both horses. The other horse reared. Chaos swirled around Charlotte
Through her shattered windshield, she could read “Idylwilde” across the Navigator’s rear window as it tore up the road and disappeared over the hill.
Suddenly, the riderless horse’s hind legs kicked out two short, powerful bursts, caving in her driver’s door and setting off the side air bags. She felt as if her face had been used as a punching bag. Crawling across the seat, she exited through the passenger door. The ground she expected to find there had evaporated and she hit the bottom of the culvert with a thud.
The boys’ frantic voices returned Charlotte’s attention to the road as she remembered the fallen rider. Climbing out of the culvert she watched as the horse that had kicked in her driver’s-side door jump the fence on the other side.
Kneeling beside the fallen boy, Charlotte checked his pulse and gently touched his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m all right.” His reply was tentative and weak. After a short silence, he quietly said under his breath: “I guess I should have been better prepared.”
“What’s your name?” Charlotte was concerned by his sleepy-like speech and feared he may have suffered a concussion or worse.
“Andres. My name is Andres.”
He tried to move, but she discouraged him with her hand. “No! Lie still.” She patted her pockets. “Do you or the other rider have a cell phone handy?”
“The other rider is my brother, Camilo. I don’t have one, but he does.”
“Of course! You’re Josh Green’s boys. I’m Charlotte Bradley.”
“I know.”
Camilo, who had already dismounted and was holding the reins of his horse in one hand, walked toward them. Handing the reins to Charlotte, he dropped down on one knee to examine his brother. When he was done, he turned to Charlotte. “He’s okay. Nothin’ broken. Badly bruised, some gashes, but no need for stitching or hospital. Are you ready to go?” he asked Andres in Spanish. He helped him to his feet.
“It’s not stitches I’m worried about, Camilo. He could have a concussion. Please, call 911 so someone with more medical experience can check him out,” she pleaded. She slowly began to pace Then stopped. “Please! Or else I’ll call!” She glanced back at her vehicle. “Unless … are you two in some kind’a trouble?” Camilo glared at her, compelling her to step back a couple of paces.
“I know what I’m doing,” Camilo replied. He turned to his brother. “Let’s get out of here before she asks too many questions,” he said in Spanish.
“Who were those men in the Navigator?” Charlotte interjected in Spanish. She loved these “gotcha” moments, especially when she was dealing with assholes like Camilo. She let her Spanish language skills sink in for a moment before continuing. “Well, who were those men who just left.?” She stepped into Camilo’s personal space, but he didn’t budge from his position. “What did you mean by, ‘Let’s get out of here before she asks too many questions’?” she continued in Spanish. Camilo said nothing. The coldness in his eyes sent a chill up her spine.
Camilo climbed onto his horse and then pulled Andres up behind him. Pointing to her battered Toyota, he said, “Next time, you may not be so lucky.”
“There won’t be a next time!” she yelled back, flipping him the bird.
Charlotte limped toward the lane that led to Edward’s home. She felt like she had just been used as a punching bag. Everything hurt from head to toe. Halfway up the drive, she noticed the door to his porch was wide open.