Northern Lights: A Due South Novel

Chapter 17: Wildly Bizarre Ways

The Dragon Lady Chinese Restaurant had been an institution in Bear Falls since before Benton Fraser built his cabin. The Zhaos had catered five high school graduation dinners, facilitated a dozen marriage proposals, and fed tens of thousands of hungry travellers on the Alaska Highway. Scroll paintings of Chinese karst landscapes shared wall space with travel posters for Dawson City and the Chilkoot Pass. Plastic tablecloths covered the tables. When the place was full, the servers would struggle to move. But when Fraser arrived that evening, the only other diners were Constable Franklin and Jennifer, the medical receptionist, apparently on a date. This suited him perfectly.

Fraser spread the case file on one of the large round tables. Although Fraser had the entire case file on his laptop, when he was desperate for a breakthrough, he liked to have a panoramic view. His father, Bob Fraser, once said, "You can't see a mountain when you're standing on it." Sometimes, Fraser felt that staring at PDFs was like trying to view a mountain from its peak.

Fraser was ready to order before Mrs. Zhao could hand him a menu. He had memorized his favourite dishes. The Dragon Lady held a special place in his heart. When he first came to Bear Falls, he would try to practice his Mandarin, which had grown rusty over the years. Though Mrs. Zhao accused him of talking like her grandmother, he persisted.

The late afternoon sun pierced the west-facing window at Fraser's back. He flipped from crime scene analysis to the coroner's report to his interview notes. There wasn't enough time. He had spent a full week in Bear Falls, with little to show for his efforts save a scraped cheek.

The food came faster than insights. Spring rolls. Ginger beef. Chili-garlic eggplant. The house rice: a fragrant pink blend of black, red, and white rice. But just as Fraser finished dishing himself rice, a man appeared at the opposite side of Fraser's table and grabbed a spring roll with his bare hands.

"Excuse me, I believe that's m-." Fraser stopped as he saw a familiar face. "Ray! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was just getting some gas down at the station over there when your wolf comes up and starts doing disgusting things to my leg. So, being me, I had to follow." Ray Kowalski, Fraser's old partner from the Chicago PD, sat down without being asked. Over his years in the north, Kowalski had gained the grizzled look of an ageing cowboy. His once-blonde hair had turned silver. Deep creases ran from his nose to the outer edges of his lips and between his eyebrows, which looked permanently furrowed in concentration. But a rough exterior hid a playful heart.

Fraser glanced out the west-facing window, to where Ogilvie sat in the snow, looking pleased with himself.

"His breed is very family-oriented. But why are you here, in Bear Falls?"

Mrs. Zhao slammed a plate, chopsticks, and a roll of cutlery beside Kowalski without being asked. "No fingers. I get you water."

"Thank you kindly." Fraser said to Mrs. Zhao, who shook her head at Kowalski as she fetched a glass and pitcher.

"Yeah, thank you. Well, you see, it was like this. You fell down chasing a suspect when you weren't supposed to be working a case. That got the ice queen all worried about you. So your work wife called my real wife and said I better get down here before you went the way of your dear departed dad." Kowalski shovelled an enormous helping of rice and ginger beef onto his plate, but no eggplant.

"Eat your vegetables." Mrs. Zhao dumped ice cold water into the glass, spilling droplets onto the table.

"Touchy lady." Kowalski grabbed a fork.

"So Deputy Commissioner Thatcher implicitly approves of me working the case, then?"

"Look, she didn't use those words exactly."