Reserved For Murder Page 4

  ‘Helping Grant?’ asked Millar. ‘I don’t know, sir. Would I actually be reporting to him?’

  The Captain smiled. ‘Well, I guess you would be. It’s his gig, so you would be doing whatever he wanted you to do. But,’ the Captain added, ‘I’m sure he would treat you fairly.’

  Millar thought it over, drumming his fingers on the Captain’s desk. He wasn’t really sure he wanted a younger, lower ranked officer as his boss. ‘I assume this is your best offer?’ he asked, hoping it wasn’t.

  ‘I think so. For now, anyways,’ the Captain said. ‘Give it a try for a couple of weeks. If it’s really terrible, go back on leave. Or, if you find you can handle the workload, we’ll reconvene and get you back helping Penner with her cases here. Detective Marks’s partner should be back within the month. Sound good?’

  ‘Good? Not really. But I’ll take it.’ Millar wasn’t sure if he was making a good choice, but at least he was making a choice. Mixing things up a little. ‘He better not expect me to call him sir or anything.’

  ‘I’ll let him know,’ said the Captain with a grin, standing up. ‘It’s really great to see you, Terry. I’m glad you’re doing as well as you are. Again, if you need anything, let me know. We’ll try to help you out as much as possible.’ He extended his hand. Millar took it, giving it a strong shake.

  ‘Thanks, sir. I really appreciate it.’ Millar turned to walk out of the office. ‘Guess I should try and find my new boss,’ he added, shaking his head.

  ‘I think he’s actually at the reserve this weekend, but I’m not positive. Penner might know, if you can track her down.’

  ‘Perfect. I’ll see if she’s in her office,’ Millar said, opening the door.

  ‘If you want to make a good impression, you should probably bring her a coffee—she still hasn’t kicked the habit,’ the Captain said, sitting back down and picking up his paperwork. He smiled, thinking how good it was to see Millar again.

  ***

  Millar walked down the hall towards Penner’s office. Even if he wasn’t really back to full time duty, it felt good to be back at the precinct. It didn’t matter if he was going to work one day a week or seven. Just knowing he was going back to work gave him a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt for months. He passed a couple of uniformed officers who gave him a little nod hello. He nodded back and continued on. Everyone knew what had happened—and Millar knew that they knew. But what he didn’t know was how people were going to treat him. His therapist had told him to hope for the best, but expect the worst. So far, things seemed pretty good.

  At the end of the hall, Millar stopped and glanced in the kitchen, expecting to see Penner standing at the coffee maker, but she wasn’t there. He grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard and filled them with coffee, finishing off the pot. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching. Seeing no one, he poured a bit of coffee back into the pot from both mugs—just enough to say it wasn’t empty so he wouldn’t have to put on a new pot. ‘Technically,’ he thought to himself with a smile, ‘I’m not working, so I’m basically a guest. You wouldn’t expect a guest to put on more coffee.’ Whistling to himself, Millar walked out of the kitchen, passing an officer on his way in. He avoided eye contact and picked up his pace, just in case the officer was looking for a coffee.

  When he got to Penner’s office, the door was closed. Trying not to spill the coffees, he knocked with his foot, kicking the base of the door. There was no answer. He maneuvered the mugs so he was holding both in his right hand, and tried the doorknob with his left. The door swung open, but there was no one inside. Millar decided to leave a note on Penner’s chair, just letting her know he stopped by. He flicked on the light and walked over to the desk that was pushed up against the far wall. The top of the desk was littered with stacks of file folders. He put the coffees down and picked up one of the folders, opening it up absentmindedly. Paperwork was definitely one aspect of the job that he didn’t miss. ‘I wonder what ever happened to the paperwork I didn’t finish before I left,’ he said out loud.

  ‘Your partner got stuck doing it, ya jerk,’ Penner said from the door, making Millar jump and drop the file on the floor. ‘Good to see you’re making yourself at home,’ she added, walking over and giving Millar a kiss on the cheek before picking up one of the mugs of coffee. ‘It’s great to see ya, stranger. You’re looking good.’

  ‘Likewise. I was just about to leave you a note—didn’t think you were here. Keeping busy?’

  ‘Yeah. As you can see, got a couple cases on the go,’ Penner said, pointing to the folders on her desk. ‘Nothing too interesting, but that’s okay. At least I’ve been working almost normal hours for a change. Haven’t had to come in at two in the morning for a couple of months now.’

  ‘Sounds heavenly,’ said Millar. He grabbed the other coffee mug and took one of Penner’s chairs, sitting down and stretching his legs out. ‘Don’t remember the last time that happened when I was working. How’s the new partner? The Captain said you were missing me?’

  ‘Really? That’s what he told you? He must have confused you with someone else,’ Penner said, laughing. ‘It’s good. Different, but good. You coming back soon?’

  ‘Maybe. For now, and don’t laugh, I’m going to be helping out Constable Grant on the reserve.’ Millar waited for a snide comment from Penner.

  ‘Why would I laugh? I think that’s great!’ Penner said, to Millar’s surprise. ‘He was looking to move into a supervisory role.’

  ‘There it is. Okay, get it out of your system,’ said Millar, rolling his eyes. ‘For the next couple of weeks or so, I’ll be heading out to give him a hand. Not reporting to him, just helping, okay?’

  ‘Are you going to have to salute him?’ Penner asked, almost snorting out a laugh.

  ‘Boy, am I glad I stopped by,’ said Millar. He was glad—he missed this. ‘Anyway, the Captain thinks it will be good for me to transition back into work. Take it easy with Grant, just be more of a presence than actually working on any major cases. Then, once your partner gets sick of you—which shouldn’t be too long from now, I’m sure—I’ll come back to show you how a real detective works.’

  ‘How rude!’ Penner said, smiling. ‘So, when are you starting out there?’

  ‘Don’t know really. I was hoping to see Grant today—he doesn’t even know about it. But, I guess he’s already there this weekend, so I’ll touch base next week sometime.’

  ‘Hang on. Why don’t we drive out there? It’s only an hour away,’ said Penner.

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Well, I’ve got the weekend off with nothing to do. Other than paperwork, that is, but what’s another couple of days. I’m sure the Captain’s used to waiting by now,’ Penner said. ‘Grant was saying that there was a powwow this weekend—could be fun. I’ve never been to one and I’ve always wanted to. We can drive down this morning, see the dancing and art vendors. Have a bite to eat, check out the place. You can talk to Grant and see what it’s going to be like. Whatcha think?’

  ‘Could be fun,’ Millar agreed. ‘Alright, you’re on. What time’s it start?’

  ‘At noon, I think. I’m pretty much done here for the day. How ‘bout we stop at Joe’s for breakfast, then hit the road.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Millar said with a smile. ‘As long as you’ve got time.’

  ‘For you, I got time.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Two hours later, Constable Grant was awoken by someone knocking on his door. He rolled over and checked the clock. He did the math. He could sleep for another few hours and still make it in time for the opening ceremonies. He rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head, ignoring the knocking. Everyone would be at the powwow that afternoon, so if someone needed to talk to him, they could find him then. The knocking on his door continued—louder this time. ‘Are you kidding me,’ he muttered, popping his head out of the blanket. If he lay there quietly, maybe whoever it was would just leave. They pounded on his door again, more emphatically t
his time.

  ‘Police,’ a deep, booming voice called out from the other side of his door, making him sit straight up.

  ‘Police?’ he thought. It didn’t sound like Barry, and Pete shouldn’t be back from his hunt yet. Confused, he got out of bed, slipped on a t-shirt and headed for the door. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Police. Open up, Mr. Grant,’ the voice answered back.

  Grant unbolted the lock on the door and slowly opened it, peering out. With surprise, he opened it fully. ‘Detective Millar? Detective Penner? What are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me, ya know? I was having such a good sleep. Come in, come in,’ he said, stepping out of the way, letting Millar and Penner into his small room. ‘I’ll put some coffee on. It’s great to see you guys.’

  Penner and Millar walked into the small apartment. There wasn’t much to see. A sofa was pushed up against the wall to the left of the door, a small table with two chairs sat beside it. There was a kitchen. Well, there was a countertop with a microwave, a coffee maker and a two burner cooktop. In the corner was a bar fridge with some shelves above it. A small three-piece washroom and a tiny bedroom rounded out the place.

  ‘So, Detective,’ Grant turned to Millar. ‘How’ve ya been? It’s been way too long.’

  ‘Been well, thanks,’ Millar replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. Penner joined him, sitting in the only other chair.

  ‘So, are you back at work now? How’s Tina doing?’

  ‘She’s good, thanks,’ said Millar. ‘As good as can be expected anyway. As for me, I’m not back full time just yet. I met with the Captain this morning and we’re trying to figure things out. What about you? How do you find it working out here?’

  ‘It’s really good, actually. Pretty different than being in the city, but it’s good. Been helping out at a drop-in centre for kids for a while now. And, every now and then, I help out when the band police are short-staffed,’ Grant said, bringing in three cups of coffee and placing them on the table. ‘I’ll show you around in a bit. I guess you came out for the powwow?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Penner, taking a sip of coffee. She froze. Stared into her cup, and then looked up at Grant in awe. ‘Wow! This is really good. What brand is it?’

  ‘It’s actually roasted here on the reserve,’ Grant said. ‘It’s one of their recent start-up businesses and it’s pretty cool. They buy the beans directly from Indigenous farmers in Peru, and then roast and package the coffee here. There’s no middle man, so it’s Indigenous people in North America working with Indigenous people in South America. The money helps kids in Peru go to school, and here, they’re using the money to install water filtration systems in the reserve housing and to work on some of the other water issues they have. The Government isn’t doing enough to make sure all the houses have clean water, so they’re trying to help themselves.’

  ‘That’s awesome,’ Penner said. ‘Don’t let me forget to pick up a couple of bags before we head home,’ she said to Millar.

  ‘I’ll bring you by the roast house when we do our tour. They should be mid-way through a roast for the powwow right now, actually. Smells amazing in there,’ Grant said.

  ‘That would be great,’ Penner said. She looked at Millar with a smug smile. ‘Millar, don’t you have some news to give to Grant?’ Millar shot her a dark look before turning back to Grant.

  ‘Yeah, so. Like I said, I was talking to the Captain this morning, and he thought it would be good for me to ease back into work,’ Millar said.

  ‘Probably a good idea. It’s been a tough year for you,’ said Grant.

  Millar wasn’t sure why he was finding this hard. Grant was a good guy—working with him shouldn’t be too bad. But, working with someone and for someone were two completely different things. ‘Anyway, the Captain thought it would be a good idea if I helped you out around here for a bit.’

  ‘What Millar’s trying to say is that he’s going to come and work for you,’ Penner said, trying not to laugh.

  ‘No, I’m going to help him out, not work for him,’ Millar said.

  ‘Either way, that would be great,’ said Grant. ‘We could definitely use the help at the centre—it’s so understaffed there. I can’t get half the programs up and running that I want.’

  ‘Might only be for a couple of weeks. Just until the guy Penner is working with gets sick of her—which, let’s be honest, it’s kind of surprising it hasn’t happened already,’ Millar said.

  ‘Jerk,’ Penner said, punching Millar lightly on the arm. ‘Make sure you boss him around real good,’ she said to Grant.

  ‘Don’t worry, sir. I’m a pretty laidback boss.’

  ‘Great,’ said Millar with a grimace. ‘And you can just shut it,’ he said to Penner, who was stifling her laughter.

  ‘I didn’t say anything. I’m just sitting here quietly, enjoying my coffee.’

  Grant looked at the clock hanging above the small table. ‘We should go if we want to have a tour before the powwow starts.’ He drained the last of his coffee and put his cup on the counter. ‘Give me two minutes to get changed and we’ll head out. I’m so glad you guys are here.’

  ‘Glad to be back,’ Millar said, with a deep sigh.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘Man, I can’t get over how humid it is already,’ Grant said, as he, Millar and Penner walked out of his apartment, into the heavy, stifling air. ‘Sure glad I’m not dancing today.’

  ‘Pretty sure everyone’s glad about that,’ Penner said, already starting to sweat. She pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head and fanned the back of her neck as they walked along.

  The boom of the drum circle was louder now, as more and more drummers arrived and joined in. ‘At the last powwow, they had ten people around the one drum. It’s really something to see, all of them singing and pounding in unison. Such a cool thing,’ Grant said. ‘And then when the dancers start, it’s really something else. Just wait until you see their traditional outfits. So colourful. And the beadwork is phenomenal! I have no idea how the beaders don’t go cross-eyed working on the designs.’

  ‘Should we head over and find somewhere to sit? Or stand, whatever the case may be?’ Millar asked.

  ‘We still have some time,’ said Grant, checking his watch. ‘I’ll show you the band office and the police station first. Oh, then we’ll go to the coffee roast house so you can see the set-up and buy some beans, if you want.’

  ‘Oh, I want,’ said Penner.

  They continued walking down the street towards the small, square cinder block building used as the band’s police station. It wasn’t much, but it was all they really needed. Grant led the way up the wooden steps and pushed open the door, holding it for Penner and Millar. Inside, a desk stood against the far wall with a phone, computer and papers scattered about. There was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a single cell.

  ‘Isn’t there anyone on duty?’ Penner asked, looking around.

  ‘Not always. Well, not during the day, anyway. There’s always someone here overnight, just to make sure the phones are answered. But, during the day, all the calls go directly to the band office. Whoever’s there takes the call, then gets in touch with the officer on-duty. There are only three full-time cops here, so they can’t man the station all the time. And right now, one of them’s on a hunt and another had a family emergency,’ Grant explained. ‘That’s why they requested I come help out every now and then, just to help take the load off.’

  ‘Big difference from home,’ Penner said, thinking how many cops were on duty at any given time in the city. And Ottawa had three different forces, too—the RCMP, Ontario Provincial Police and Ottawa City Police. ‘What happens if you have more than one person to lock up?’ she asked, looking at the single cell.

  ‘Doesn’t happen too often, I don’t think. But when it does, they share the one bed in there. Not the most comfortable, I’m sure, but maybe it acts as a bit of a deterrent. If it’s really bad, they get in touch with the city police and bring them t
here.’

  ‘Do you have a court house here, too?’ Millar asked, looking around the small room.

  ‘No. I think that’s the biggest difference here,’ Grant said. ‘For major crimes, the perp gets sent to the city and is tried there. But for minor crimes, which make up the majority of the crimes here, they go before a Council of Elders.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Penner asked.

  ‘It’s a really interesting approach. Kind of like restorative justice. The offender sits in the centre of a circle of Elders, or a group of respected members of the community, if you like. They discuss the crime that was committed and, based on the severity of the crime and the individuals involved, they decide on the appropriate punishment. It could be community service, going out on the land alone for a period of time, providing a moose for the community. It really depends.’

  ‘Really? Does it work?’ Penner looked skeptical.

  ‘Seems to. There aren’t a lot of repeat customers,’ Grant said. ‘At first, I had a hard time getting my head around it. Being a cop, you think someone should be punished the traditional way. Go to court—if you’re found guilty, go to jail. But here, they don’t see it like that. If someone committed a crime, why should that follow them around forever, defining who they are for the rest of their lives? A criminal record could end up being really detrimental for the person, making life harder than it needs to be. And it could actually lead to a life of crime out of necessity. If someone has a record and they can’t get a job, they have to do something to get money.’ Grant straightened a pile of papers on the desk and then continued, ‘Getting a job here is hard enough already. Instead, the Elders take the opportunity to teach them some life lessons. Get them back on the land to reflect on what it means to be alive, to have respect for what the Maker has given them. The community takes it to heart. Everyone here feels that if someone has strayed into crime, they’re all partially responsible. It really is an interesting way of looking at things.’