Fifth Son. Barbara Fradkin

saw what it was, she hesitated. Mike would not be thrilled, but Hannah had been entirely raised by his ex-wife with, as the ex-wife was fond of pointing out, no help from him. If Ashley had seen fit to give Hannah an elaborate gold crucifix, who had the right to protest? Sharon turned the cross over and saw there was an inscription, delicate and worn, but still legible.

      “To Derek, with all our love, Mother and Dad.”

      She frowned. Hannah was a petite girl with elfin features and sparkling blue eyes. Sharon knew she had already cast her social net wide in the four months she’d been in Ottawa, but Sharon hadn’t realized she’d snared a boy in that time. Snared him so thoroughly that he’d given her a precious piece of personal jewellery.

      Sharon put the crucifix on the dresser and headed into the shower. She said nothing when Hannah returned, waiting instead until the girl wandered into the kitchen an hour later, drawn by that unerring instinct of teenagers and pets for the impending arrival of food. Sharon offered her a carrot stick, which Hannah ignored.

      “So who’s Derek?”

      Hannah’s eyes flew wide in surprise. “What?”

      “Derek. The boy who gave you the pendant.”

      “Pendant?” Hannah seemed genuinely puzzled, then outrage replaced the surprise on her face. “You searched my room!”

      “No, I cleaned up the bathroom.”

      “But it was in my pocket!”

      Sharon leaned against the counter, sensing that she was handling the situation all wrong. She sought for a way to salvage the scene. “Hannah, I wasn’t trying to be nosy. It fell out, and I wouldn’t mention it but—”

      “Then don’t!”

      “But it’s obviously something very meaningful from the boy’s parents, and I don’t think-”

      “He gave it to me!”

      “I know he did, and I’m sure his heart was in the right place.”

      But Hannah was having none of it. She turned red, as if her very freedom were being challenged, and took a deep breath to launch into her counterstrike. At the very moment of that counterstrike, Green walked in. Hannah took one look at him and flounced out of the room. The whole house shook when her bedroom door slammed.

      Green drew Sharon into his arms and kissed her black curls. “So how was your day?”

      “Hellish,” she replied, snuggling into the warmth of his arms. He smelled of raw earth. “And that was before I came home to that.”

      “And what was that?”

      As she gave him a brief summary, his expression grew rueful. “Boys,” he muttered. “I was hoping for a little more training time before we faced boys.”

      “She’s a pretty girl. But she’s got the attention span of a flea, Mike. I’m sorry, but she’ll dump this poor Derek next week, and then he’ll be out a valuable crucifix.”

      “Then next week we’ll mail it back to him.”

      She swatted him, chuckling. “Coward. There’s an important principle at work here, which I think Hannah should learn.”

      “When I was a kid, I hated to be told I was wrong.”

      “What do you mean, when you were a kid?”

      It was his turn to chuckle. “Touché. The point is, I usually knew. And if people gave me enough space...”

      “What’s enough space?”

      “Till tomorrow?”

      In fact, an hour was all that was needed. Hannah didn’t emerge from her bedroom for dinner, but when Green tapped on her door afterwards, he was greeted not by silence or cursing but by a surprisingly subdued “Come in”. He found her sitting on her bed, writing. She didn’t smile, didn’t even glance up, but at least she was calm.

      “So where is this crucifix?”

      She flicked her black nails at the dresser. “I think she put it up there.”

      Green picked up the delicate chain and turned it over in his hands. The gold was ornately carved, and the inscription on the back was in old-fashioned Gothic script. Sharon was right; there was no way this was a proper gift for a girl. He remembered his own first clumsy attempt at impressing a girl. He’d stolen his mother’s Queen Elizabeth coronation spoon, the only silver finery in his parent’s humble home, and given it to blonde, untouchable Susan Fielding in his Grade Five class. Susan and her friends had all laughed at him.

      “I guess this guy Derek really likes you.”

      She snorted. “You’re both as bad as Mom was. Always jumping to conclusions, thinking there’s got to be sex at the bottom of everything.”

      “So he doesn’t like you?”

      “I don’t even know who the fuck Derek is! A kid I know found it and gave it to me.”

      Green liked the sound of that even less. “Found it?”

      Hannah cast him a sidelong glance. “Spoken like a true cop. That’s right, Mike. He rolled poor Derek on his way home from church and ripped it right off his neck.”

      “What are you planning to do with it?”

      “Nothing. I can hardly give it back to the kid. It would hurt his feelings.”

      As opposed to Derek, who is probably in deep mourning, Green thought, but wisely refrained from comment while he considered the situation. It was a strange choice of words Hannah had used. What boy would give a girl someone else’s crucifix and expect her to say nothing? Slowly the answer came to him.

      “This is one of your special needs kids, isn’t it?”

      “The detective strikes again,” she muttered. When he didn’t rise to the bait, she nodded slightly. “He’s a nice kid. I know he’d never steal it.”

      “But if Derek lost it, he’s probably looking all over for it.”

      “Kyle was so proud when he gave it to me.”

      “Hannah, there must be a way. We’ll enlist his parents’ help if we have to. Do you know where he lives?”

      “Some two-bit town called Ashford Landing.”

      For a moment, Green was struck dumb. Until today, he’d barely heard of the two-bit town. To have two unrelated events occur in that same place on the same day seemed an impossible coincidence. He tried to hide his excitement as he closed the crucifix in his palm.

      “Come on, let’s look up Kyle’s address. I feel like a drive in the country.”

      She suddenly came alive, leaping off the bed and snatching the chain from his grasp. “No way I’m turning up there with my father!”

      “I’ll let you do the talking if you like.”

      But she was backing away, shaking her head. “I see Kyle tomorrow. I’ll give it back to him.”

      “But we need to make sure it’s returned to Derek. We need Kyle’s parents.”

      “He’s not stupid, you know.”

      “He’s a child.”

      She rolled her eyes. Sensing her resistance had more form than substance, he turned towards the door. “I’ll even let you listen to your own music in the car.”

      * * *

      He had occasion to regret that gesture as they barrelled down Highway 416 with Nine Inch Nails cranked up to top volume. Even Green’s spunky new Subaru seemed to shudder. Any conversation was out of the question, which perhaps was the reason for the volume in the first place. Hannah sat rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the side window.

      The blackness