feel your absence , you're unforgettable.
― C. JoyBell C.
I'm a burnt-out cop, now reinvented as a mystery writer, but secretly missing the action and just trying to get by.
How is it working for me? Not bloody well. I'm barely staying sane most days and bored out of my mind.
Other than that, I'm making it, but the minute I get a call from Cyril to help him out on a case I'm in my car and out of the Big Smoke.
So, here I am driving on the QEW out to Norfolk County.
The full name of the highway is The Queen Elizabeth Way named after the late Elizabeth II. It's a bittersweet journey in many ways as I pass light standards with wrought iron initials spelling ER―Elizabeth Regina―the latter word, being Latin for Queen.
It's bittersweet in a personal way because I'm heading back to where I began my career at 25, ten years ago, almost to the day.
But it's poignant also in a personal way―it's where I lost my partner Sarah. I still find it hard to bear. Police work is not without risks and not for the faint-hearted.
Constable Cameron Armstrong―how proud I was to bear that title. Sarah came up through police college with me and bore the title, Constable Sarah Wilkerson.
I can still see her in full dress uniform with long blonde hair pulled back. Even standing rigid in a long line of graduates in full uniform her unique beauty outshone the rest.
It's partly the reason I left and partly the reason I've come back. I want her killer brought to justice. It's been two years and that hasn't happened yet. But the Mounties always get their man, or so they say, but I swore they'd have to do it without me.
But somehow I get the feeling Cyril knows something and wants me to be part of whatever they're planning. Still, I'm only a civilian now, so I don't see how that can happen.
I'll file that thought under Yet to be Determined and see how Cyril navigates these matters.
I glance up at the Niagara escarpment now turning gold and scarlet. October that started out so April-hearted has turned to a frosty autumn and left me wandering late night streets and taking inventory of my sadness.
I miss you, Sarah I whisper to the wine-splashed trees and allow the sorrow to well up inside me.
I want her killer, not to settle a score, but to put to rest the regret that I couldn't do more. I wasn't there when she needed me and now that she's gone, I can't face it and ran away.
It's not the corpses of victims that haunt me but her memory that torments me and keeps me from sleeping.
"I know how hard it was for you to come back, Cam, but I knew you'd want to be part of this."
Cyril is a little greyer―he's my uncle but that's not why I'm here. He doesn't play favourites and he's got another star on his epaulette so he's now Chief Superintendent.
I know he's onto something and needs me to help him to get it.
"What's "this' you say I need to be part of?" I ask him.
"We've got a line on Sarah's killer. He's active again―same M.O. and we're pretty certain, but face it―no one knows this guy inside out like you do."
"Yeah, I know him so well, he's still out there when he should be rotting in prison."
"Frying in the electric chair, if you want my opinion, but I knew you'd want to be in on this."
I frown. "Supposing you're right and you got a line on this perp, how do I fit in? I'm no longer on the force."
"You'll be special consultant and work with Clare, my assistant. You'll both be in civvies but apart from that you'll have access to all our facilities and answer to no one but me."
"This Clare―is she competent?"
"She's the best I have, since I last had you. You guys will make an awesome team."
At that moment a young girl brings in a tray of coffee and donuts and sets them out for us.
Cyril claps me affectionately on the shoulder. "As you can see, I followed your orders and we did a Timmies run so you'll have no complaints about our coffee."
"That's all good," I smile, "but when do I get to meet awesome Clare?"
Cyril chuckles, "She's standing right beside you."
I turn around and my jaw drops. The beautiful redhead I took to be a secretary is Cyril's assistant and now my partner. I can feel the colour creeping up my neck.
"You're Clare?" I sputter in disbelief. She looks slender and willowy and certainly not the type I'd expect to help me pursue a killer.
"I am," she smiles, "and I don't mind serving coffee if it helps us catch this killer―that's all that matters to me."
"I'm so sorry," I apologize. "It never dawned on me you'd serve me coffee. I'll serve you next time."
"No need to apologize," she laughs, "we're all part of the team."
I can see why she'd be effective under cover―just thinking the words make me blush. I almost want to apologize to her again, but wisely shut up and sip my coffee. It's excellent and tastes freshly made.
I won't mind working here, especially with her.