The Coffin Maker

Chapter 5

A pot of coffee and oatmeal simmering on the stove awaited Ailsa when she came down in the morning. Blackwood had scattered the case files on the kitchen table. A good omen, she wondered. Blackwood was at the barn doing chores so she poured a cup of coffee and ate some oatmeal. She was washing the bowl when a pickup drove into the yard and soon after, a young native woman came through the screen door with a flat of eggs and a small child. The woman was tall and slender, her hair striking for its straightness, length and ebony-like gleam. High cheekbones afforded her face a slightly chiseled look while light copper-colored skin and deep brown eyes rewarded a striking presence. Purple lipstick that would have looked garish on most women perfectly enhanced her complexion. She wore a vest that boasted a colorful floral bead applique. The little boy was about four years old and had spiky black hair. Ailsa remembered that Canadians referred to them as First Nations people. The woman was very surprised to see Ailsa standing at the sink. The little boy stared.

"Oh, are you James's sister?" said the woman in a surprised but hopeful tone. She studied Ailsa, clad only in Blackwood's plaid shirt.

"No. I'm Ailsa Craig. I'm here on business."

"Oh, on business..." her voice tailed off to an indiscernible, annoyed mumble. "Well, tell him I brought his eggs and that I hope he chokes on them," she said, slamming the flat on the counter. She grabbed the little boy's hand, exited as abruptly as she had entered and the screen door swung wide on the hinge and slammed shut.

'Wow, is she pissed off!'

From the kitchen, Ailsa saw Blackwood trying to talk to the woman who was giving him the silent treatment while she buckled her son into the car seat. She got behind the wheel of the pickup and roared away, the spinning tires shooting stones at Blackwood.

Blackwood came into the kitchen. "So, you met Sheshebens?"

"Met would be generous." Ailsa pointed toward the counter. "She left you some eggs. I can salvage the cracked ones and make scrambled — is she your girlfriend?"

"I take Sheshebens and her son fishing, to movies and for ice cream, that sort of thing...Anakausuen is his aboriginal name but we all call him Frank. Sheshebens is Shania's sister."

"Oh my goodness! She asked if I were your sister. You're not Frank's...?"

"...Father? No, Sheshebens gave birth the day before we found Shania. It was hard, welcoming her new baby and burying her sister in the same week. Her husband is a jerk. He got in with a bad crowd that he met at a casino in the Soo* and he left Sheshebens and the baby. Without an income, she lost the house when the bank foreclosed so she went to live with her father."

"It's obvious she has feelings for you," said Ailsa. "It was wrong of me to come down wearing only a shirt, I'm sorry."

Blackwood considered her shapely legs and had no regrets. "I'll go over later and explain," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. Good morning and thanks for the coffee." How do you look that good at seven in the morning?

Blackwood grabbed his mug and poured another cup of coffee. He angled a chair and sat down. "I read your files."

"What do you think?" Oh, please say yes.

"This is one hell of an offender. The coffin thing is creepy. How long do you think they can keep that detail from the media?"

"Not long. The case has caught media interest. They'll be tagging him with a nickname soon."

"The grief of the families must be unimaginable, a dead child, seemingly untouched, methodically delivered in a coffin. If he holds to his method, I'm not sure there's enough time to save the Pacocha girl."