Kayla knelt before the trunk. It smelled nice, like wood. She ran her fingers along the metal latches. Was it locked? She pushed her thumbs against the latches. They snapped open.

Tug barked.

Someone was home.

Kayla’s heart beat faster. She closed the latches, then hurried downstairs.

Twenty

Winnipeg, Manitoba
2000

The New Dawn Sunrise Wellness Retreat, a complex of half a dozen low-rise buildings, sat on twenty tranquil, wooded acres at the city’s edge.

“Looks like a campus,” RCMP Corporal Frank Cullen said to his partner, Corporal Lorna Bryce, as they’d parked after the two-hour drive from Eternity.

Inside, they waited at the reception desk before they were met by Sharon Narski, a senior manager, who signed them in.

“What happened in Eternity is so horrible,” Narski said, escorting them to the administration offices.

Narski was a soft-spoken, petite woman. As they walked with her, Bryce threw a glance to Cullen, who followed her focus to Narski’s hand. The manager was fidgeting with her pen, a sign of nervous tension. They came to an empty reception area and a closed office door bearing the plate: Zelda Dupree, Executive Director.

Narski knocked gently.

“Come in,” said a woman’s voice.

They entered the spacious office with Narski introducing Cullen and Bryce. Dupree stood from behind her desk and came around to greet them. She was tall and poised with silver hair styled in a bouffant. She removed her glasses, letting them fall to a golden neck chain, shook hands with the Mounties and indicated the two chairs before her desk. Narski sat alone on a sofa against the wall.

“Such a tragedy for the Tullock family,” Dupree said. “Do you know who committed this unspeakable act?”

“We can’t discuss that aspect of the case, ma’am,” Cullen said. “We’re here to interview Victoria Tullock.”

“Of course.”

“But first.” Bryce opened her clipboard. “When you spoke with my colleague earlier on the phone, you’d indicated that Victoria has not left the facility here since she’s been a resident?”

“That’s not entirely correct.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is not a prison.” Dupree smiled. “The last time she was off-site was two weeks ago to shop at the mall nearby.”

“She walked out of here two weeks ago?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. She can leave, but only with an escort. She has gone to local malls, movie theaters, but always under supervision. That’s our strict policy for residents in her situation.”

The gentle clicking of Narski’s pen behind them accelerated.

“And what exactly is her situation?” Cullen asked.

“Privacy laws forbid me from discussing Victoria’s case,” Dupree said. “What I can tell you is that we provide a range of residential treatment programs, involving therapy, education and myriad other services from our psychiatrists, social workers, counsellors and therapists.”

“Treatment for what, exactly?” Cullen asked.

“Addictions, alcohol and drug abuse, post-traumatic stress and mood and anxiety disorders.”