Borderline

By D. M. Borne

When the body of a New York senator's daughter is found floating atop a pond in rural Blackwater, Québec, Canada, the Québec Provincial Police, also known as the Sûrete du Québec, assigns the Montréal born and U.S. citizen Inspector Jacqui Simon to the case, and just like Jacqui, this murder investigation is more complex than it appears.

BORDELINE is the first novella in the Jacqui Simon crime series and is also the first crime novella by D. M. Borne, author of the young adult fantasy novel MAGI: Commencement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. M. Borne
• Release date: Jun 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781732928466

D. M. Borne

D. M. Borne is a Louisiana native who was raised in the country town of Vacherie, LA. After graduating from high school, D. M. found education to be a great motive for travel and earned degrees in Oklahoma and Maryland. D. M. then returned to Louisiana to pursue a writing career and currently also works in the motion picture industry.

Book preview

DEDICATION

To my family, thank you.

(A ma famille, merci.)

UN

1

CRISP spring morning frost covers the woods of Blackwater, Québec, near the United States border. The ground is white but despite the recent snowfall, the small ponds have begun to thaw. The township of Blackwater is nestled securely in the foothills that lie between the Laurentian Mountains of Québec and the Adirondacks Mountains of New York State, which makes for biting winters that often lead into spring.

It is in this shifting spring weather that Maude Pepin, a retired widow, walks downhill along a trail on her expansive property with her best friend running along beside her. As they approach a faded blue cottage buried in the trees, the dog sees a snow covered squirrel and gives a deep growl.

Belvedere, arrête, (Belvedere, stop,) the elderly woman commands, and the large dog stops growling immediately.

The blue-gray coat of the standard poodle is clipped in a less fussy, bushier modern cut which both does well to keep him warm and does well during bath time. Maude had considered cording the blue locks of hair, but Belvedere is a country dog, despite being a breed of modern grandeur, and deserves a clip that is better suited to his original country needs. Belvedere is a hunting dog and a loyal companion. He is also extremely obedient and far too intelligent for his own good.

Forever on the hunt, Belvedere spots the perfect the stick for a game of fetch and scoops it up into his mouth. He drops the stick at Maude’s feet and looks up at her with begging, soulful eyes. His intelligence is on full display for he knows that Maude cannot refuse his begging, soulful eyes.

D’accord, (Okay,) Maude agrees. Just the one time though. We have to get back to the cottage. Our dinner is sure to be ready.

Maude, and Belvedere by default, still operates under the mostly outdated notion that dinner is the middle meal and supper is the last. So, it is around one o’clock, or thirteen hundred hours as Maude would later detail to the first agent on the scene, when she let fly one of the best throws she has had in years.

Belvedere takes off as quick as a whippet and tracks down the stick within a matter of seconds. The stick is located a mere meter from the edge of the private pond which is contained within Maude’s expansive property. Belvedere, whose interest is no longer piqued by the stick, barks incessantly at something floating on the surface of the pond.

Despite several commands from Maude to cease barking, Belvedere demonstrates a rare act of defiance and refuses to relent. Knowing that something out of the ordinary must have a hold on the dog’s attention, Maude walks the short distance to the pond. When she arrives, Maude sees that it is someone rather than something that has commandeered Belvedere’s attention. A body, face down, is floating on the water’s surface.

Maude knows instinctively that the person is dead. The simple fact that the body is face down on the water clues her in. However, Maude wastes no time and immediately wades through the icy, shallow pond to reach the corpse. Belvedere, a most loyal companion, does not let her make the journey alone, and his webbed feet, perfectly designed for swimming, allows him to reach the body first.

The frigid temperature of the water compels both woman and dog to act swiftly and within a couple of minutes, Maude and Belvedere manage to drag the corpse onto the bank of the pond. With a great effort, Maude manages to turn the body over and lets out a horrified gasp.

The corpse is wearing an elegant white dress, an expensive leather coat and only one designer high heel. She is a young woman, in her mid-twenties. Her skin is waxy and puffy from the cold water but well preserved. The cold water preservation, though well done, also distorts the young woman’s beautiful facial features. However, this fact is of no consequence to Maude, for she knows exactly who she is looking at, and if she were to be honest, she knew exactly who it was the second she recognized the coat floating along with the body.

Mon Dieu! (My God!) Maude exclaims, while making the sign of the cross. C’est la négresse. (It’s the negro.)

DEUX

2

La négresse, Inspector Dillane reflects aloud in disbelief after reading Maude’s initial statement. She actually used that word. No wonder the senator has labeled us a bunch of racists. It’s not as if it were necessary, not that the word would ever be necessary, but the young woman is of a light complexion. Most would probably mistake her for being white. So, why use the expression at all?

In all fairness, inspector, I don’t think Madame Pepin is racist, just old. In her day, it was an acceptable term for referring to black people. My grandfather still uses it, but he doesn’t mean anything bad by it. It’s just the term of his generation.

I don’t give a damn what the term used to be, Officer Fontaine, Inspector Dillane responds through clenched teeth. It is now archaic and considered offensive. Besides, it was a rhetorical question. Now, go back to your desk. One of us has work to do.

Lissette obeys the order, and the inspector shakes his head in disgust at what he considers to be insubordinate behavior before opening the door to the interview room. The inspector also looks upon the two people sitting across the table with disgust, but he doesn’t dare show it. The Sûreté is already in enough trouble, even though the SQ is not at fault.

The recent revival in U.S. racial tension, which many believe to be an effect of the widening polarization of its political parties, has unwittingly spilled into Canada. Now, Dillane believes that racism is present in just about every country, and Canada is no exception. However, the inspector is certain that only a few years ago, a case like this, with or without the archaic expression, would have never reached such a boiling point. This case is a political and public relations nightmare, and the inspector must show restraint, more than he is used to, when interviewing anyone connected to this investigation.

Unfortunately, Inspector Dillane is an intemperate man of 51 years, who is convinced that he is now living the last quality years of his life. His conviction may not be inaccurate, considering that he doesn’t eat well or exercise, smokes a half-pack of cigarettes a day and drinks an unwise amount of beer on a nightly basis. His voice is rough and scratchy as sometimes happens with heavy smokers and so is his general demeanor. Despite the inspector’s short comings, however, he has displayed an unusual amount of decorum, until now.

When was the last time you saw the victim alive? Inspector Dillane asks the question with no intention of getting an answer, and he is not surprised to have silence as the reply. What was she wearing the last time you saw her? Again, there is no response. Do you know of anyone who would want to harm her?

Dillane has had all he can take and reveals his impatience with the situation at hand. He slams the case file on the desk but receives no reaction. Senator Davis, this is of no use. Your silence is only hurting the investigation. There is still no response. You know, I’m beginning to question whether or not you actually want us to find your daughter’s killer. After all, you didn’t even file a missing person’s report. One could hardly call that the actions of a loving parent, Dillane finishes with an accusatory lean in.

Senator Davis registers the character attack but does not take the bait. Instead, the senator leans backwards to create distance and calmly replies, My daughter was a citizen of the United States of America. I am a citizen of the United States of America, and I will only speak to an FBI agent.

I’m impressed. It has only taken you three days to alter your declaration, Dillane sarcastically comments. If we’re honest, the initial statement was getting a little stale. Adding the line about your daughter is a nice touch. However, the fact remains that you and your daughter are both in Canada, and if I’m not mistaken, the high powers at SQ headquarters have made their decision on the FBI matter. The Sûreté du Québec will continue to investigate.

Then my client will continue to remain silent, the senator’s lawyer reiterates.

TROIS

3

Jacqui, hails a handsome man in his early thirties. He has a thin, athletic build, perfectly trimmed chestnut brown hair and inviting green eyes which follow the approaching woman. From his resting place leaning against a navy blue luxury sedan, he holds a coffee cup and a bag of pastries, firmly so as not to spill anything on his expensive, well-tailored suit.

Michel, responds a pleasantly surprised Jacqui. The man has always cut a fine figure, but he is slightly thinner than Jacqui remembers. I never took you for a stalker. Jacqui finishes as she comes to a stop with her luggage on the pavement outside of a historic apartment building in Old Montréal. Jacqui is a woman of classic proportions, curvy in every place that pleases the eye, and speaking of eyes, Jacqui’s are amber brown and exceptionally perceptive.

Well, stalking and stake out are pretty much opposite sides of the same coin, Michel responds in a playful tone.

True, so which is it?

Michel approaches Jacqui with the coffee and pastries in hand. A bit of both really. We have a case.

Jacqui is surprised once more, only not so pleasantly this time. Impossible. I’m just back from…

Vacation, Michel finishes. How was it?

It was everything a getaway should be, charming, entertaining, definitely fattening, and at times exciting. I completely unwired and did everything old school. I talked to people face to face, I used the phone book to find new restaurants, and I even took the liberty of using the hotel land line to place my calls. I also read the newspaper, but since I was on vacation I made sure to stick with the funnies. It was a real experience.

Michel notes that Jacqui does not mention the word relaxing, which is typically the main reason that one vacations, but instead he remarks, I see you’ve changed your hair.

Do you have any idea how humid it is in New Orleans? There was no point in wearing it straight, Jacqui explains.

I like it curly. Here, I bought you a café au lait and some beignets to ward off homesickness.

Jacqui takes the café au lait first, but reluctantly grabs the bag of beignets. Michel, you know that I love Québec. I proudly call it home, but Québec will never get the beignet right. Jacqui then tosses the bag into a nearby trashcan and gets into the passenger seat of Michel’s car.

Snob, Michel declares to Jacqui’s back, and as he wheels Jacqui’s luggage to his car and places it in the trunk, snowflakes begin to fall.

QUATRE

4

What do you think the new inspector will be like? Nicholas Caron, a very pleasant, overweight police officer in his late thirties, asks his colleagues with mild anxiety.

This isn’t a personality pageant Nicholas. It doesn’t matter, Sergeant Gustav Laurent responds somberly. Sergeant Laurent is a middle-aged no nonsense officer who prides himself on following police procedure to the letter. Feelings about the law or its procedures come second to proper policing.

I don’t think the new inspector can be any worse than Inspector Dillane. He reprimanded me earlier for answering his question. He tried to say it was rhetorical but it wasn’t. He isn’t fooling anyone either. He is completely out of his depth. Lissette adds to the conversation. She is a young officer in her early twenties and gives the station a much needed millennial perspective.

Have they given you a name of the replacement inspector, sergeant? Nicholas continues his inquires.

Jacques…something…I heard.

Could be anyone, Nicholas comments. There are plenty of Jacques in the Sûreté.

Laurent explains his lack of knowledge, SQ headquarters is being very tight-lipped about the entire investigation. Except for one order, this little municipal police station is to solely provide support to the new inspector. We are not to get involved in the investigation.

Why does the SQ exercising their right to investigation feels very much like them pulling rank? Lissette asks rhetorically. That’s not surprising. It’s clear that they don’t believe us capable or intelligent. You know, Dillane asked me if I knew what a smartphone was. I should have asked him if he knew what a breath mint was. The man reeks of stale beer and cigarettes.

That’s enough Officer Fontaine, Laurent reprimands, and Lissette settles.

This senator has sure made a mess of things, Nicholas says. I can’t believe that headquarters is actually taking her demands seriously.

Powerful people usually get their way, Gustav chimes.

But is she sir? What’s so different about Inspector Jacques? Lissette counters.

For starters, he’s American, Laurent responds.

Really?

"Well, half. One of his parents