Here After

chapter twelve

THE CADES LIVED IN A quaint, single-family dwelling on Cahill Street, two blocks south of Warner Park. In contrast to the cramped design of most suburban developments, the homes in this section of town had been built with a little breathing space between them, and the whole neighborhood had obviously been cut from very old forest, the hundreds of trees left standing all huge and majestic looking, giving the area a shaded, rural feel. Compared to the townhouse Vickie and her husband shared in Mississauga, eight minutes east on the 401, Oakville seemed a paradise.

Christopher Cade took Vickie on a tour of the house. The first thing he pointed out was the alarm system. “State of the art,” he told her. “Just had it installed last spring. So far we’ve only been using it when we’re out, but you can bet I’ll be arming it at night from now on.”

On their way through the kitchen Cade asked Vickie if she wanted something to drink and Vickie politely declined. While Cade grabbed a glass of water for himself, Vickie scanned the sheaves of kids’ artwork attached by magnets to the fridge. Interspersed with the artwork were a few newspaper clippings, one of which showed a smiling Graham Cade balancing a huge, cone-shaped piece of what looked like amethyst crystal. The caption read, YOUNG ROCKHOUND WINS MAN-SIZE DOOR PRIZE. Vickie started scanning the brief text and Cade said, “That was last month, at a gem show in Toronto we take him to every year. He was so proud of himself that day it was ridiculous.” Cade set his empty glass on the counter and said, “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

They did the upstairs next, four bedrooms up here, the master bedroom and Risa’s room in the back, the oldest brother’s room and the one Graham shared with the nine year old in the front. A second staircase serviced the back of the house and Vickie commented on it, saying how unusual it was to see something like this in a newer home.

Cade said, “Yeah, we thought it was neat. With a big family like this, it’s kind of nice not having to hear the night owls thumping up stairs at all hours. It’s not really that unique, though. Not in this neighborhood. There’s at least a dozen more like it in the Warner subdivision alone.”

Graham was in his room playing checkers with his mom and Vickie traded smiles with him as she walked by his open door. The boy looked hollow-eyed and exhausted, but Vickie was betting he still wouldn’t sleep all that well tonight.

They finished the tour with the basement. Cade had a gun safe down here and he showed it to Vickie now, saying, “And if the sick bastard is stupid enough to actually break into the house…” He patted the safe as one might the shoulder of a trusted friend.

Vickie said, “Mr. Cade, believe me, I understand how you feel; I’ve got a daughter of my own. But the worst thing you can do is start prowling around here at night with a loaded gun. People who do that end up shooting the wrong person almost one hundred percent of the time. And it’s usually a family member.”

Cade seemed disappointed by Vickie’s response, but unswayed.

Vickie said, “I reviewed your case with my superior and he’s in full agreement with what I told you and your wife earlier on. Given the evidence we’ve accumulated so far, the attempt on your son was almost certainly random. The mask, the heavy clothing, the fact that he was in the park, these things all strongly suggest that he was trolling; but it’s highly unlikely that he’d actually targeted your boy in advance. Graham was just…handy.”

“Be that as it may,” Cade said, leading her back upstairs. “But if you’ve got a child of your own, Sergeant Taylor, I know you’ll understand: I’ll do anything—whatever it takes—to protect my family. You just get this son of a bitch behind bars, where he belongs, then we can discuss probability.”