Chapter 18: Beneath the Surface

Welcome to Chapter 18

Chapter 17 exposes truths too long buried—and secrets that might never stay hidden.

In a chilling interview, Detective Lavallee finally sits down with Doris McLeod—a woman bound by guilt, survival, and the ghosts of her past. What begins as a formal interrogation turns into something far more personal, as Lavallee confronts not only the mystery of Ian McLeod’s murder, but echoes of his sister Patsy’s long-unsolved death.

Doris, sharp and guarded, offers no easy answers. Her life with Ian was built on silence, fear, and endurance. Her relationship with her sons is fractured, and her truths are carefully measured—but Lavallee sees through the smoke.

Later that night, George McLeod confronts Doris, reminding her that loyalty isn’t optional in a family already teetering on the edge. But Doris has her own regrets—and her own fears.

As Chapter 18 opens, lines are being drawn. Between guilt and survival. Between silence and justice. Between the past and a reckoning that won’t be delayed much longer.

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Chapter 18

 

Witnesses

 

Day 13:

 

Detective Jean Lavallee trusted his instincts, and as he drove toward Hull that morning, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ian McLeod’s murder was rooted in more than just family dysfunction. Greed, secrecy, and old grudges wove through every conversation he’d had so far, and today’s interviews might finally start unraveling the tangled web. Lavallee was relieved Rejean Pilon was not home, dealing with Patsy’s tragedy could wait. For now, he could fully concentrate on the McLeod case and the mounting suspicion that more than one person had something to hide.

 

The Pilon House:

 

The Pilon house sat in a quiet, middle-class neighbourhood—quite different from the turbulent atmosphere Lavallee associated with the McLeod farm. Lavallee was greeted at the door by Mrs. Pilon, who ushered him into a modest living room where her teenage son, Luke, sat nervously on the couch.

 

“Detective,” Luke said hesitantly, his voice betraying his unease.

 

Lavallee offered a reassuring smile. “Relax, Luke. I just want to ask you a few questions about your visits to the McLeod farm. Take your time.”

 

As Luke spoke, a picture emerged of a household defined by tension. The McLeod farm had been a second home for Luke, but even he couldn’t escape the volatile dynamics within.

 

“Ian and Gerald were always at each other’s throats,” Luke admitted. “About money, the farm, everything. Aunt Doris would try to step in sometimes, but Uncle Ian didn’t listen to anyone. And Jerome? He’d disappear when things got bad.”

 

Lavallee leaned forward slightly. “And Peter? You two were close, weren’t you?”

 

Luke hesitated. “Yeah. We stuck together when things got rough. But there was this one time …”

 

He trailed off, his expression darkening.

 

“Go on, Luke,” Lavallee encouraged.

 

Luke shifted uncomfortably. “Peter and I were down by the river on the farm. We found these shiny rocks—thought they were gold. We filled Peter’s backpack and showed it to Uncle George later. George said it was fool’s gold and laughed it off, but …”

 

“But what?” Lavallee pressed.

 

Luke’s voice dropped. “I don’t think it was fool’s gold. A few weeks before Ian went missing, Peter told me something big was going to happen. He didn’t say what, just that we should avoid the farm that day. When we left, George’s car was pulling in.”

 

Lavallee’s instincts sharpened. “Did you hear anything about what they were arguing about?”

 

Luke nodded hesitantly. “I heard Ian yelling about selling the farm. And I heard the word ‘gold’ again. After that, Peter clammed up. He wouldn’t talk about it anymore.”

 

Lavallee thanked Luke and stood to leave. Mrs. Pilon, who had been silently observing from the corner, stopped him at the door.

 

“Detective,” she said, her voice low, “there’s something else you should know.”

 

Lavallee turned back, intrigued.

 

“I don’t trust Doris,” she said, crossing her arms. “She’s not as innocent as she pretends. She knows more about Ian’s death than she’s letting on—and about other things too.”

 

Lavallee nodded, filing the comment away as he left. The mention of Doris only deepened his unease, her calculated calm a constant reminder of secrets left unsaid.

 

Meeting with Real Cormier:

 

Lavallee’s next stop was Sûreté headquarters in Hull, where he met with Real Cormier, a known biker, and police informant. Cormier leaned back in his chair, the picture of defiance as he lit a cigarette.

 

“Yeah, I supplied Gerald with weed,” Cormier said bluntly. “But Ian? He hated me. Told Gerald he’d bury him if I ever showed up at the farm again.”

 

“Did Ian ever threaten you directly?” Lavallee asked.

 

Cormier smirked. “Ian knew better than to mess with me. Tough guy, but not stupid.”

 

With no alibi for the night of the murder but no clear motive either, Cormier remained a dead end.

 

Murray Mannion’s Lead:

 

Later that evening, Lavallee met Constable Murray Mannion at the Harris Bay detachment. Mannion, as eager as ever, had been busy tracking George McLeod’s movements.

 

“Detective,” Mannion began, “I followed George McLeod after the meeting at the school. He stopped by Charlebois Real Estate in Brighton and then drove to a geological firm in Renfrew called Mission Discovery.”

 

Lavallee raised an eyebrow. “Mission Discovery? What do they do?”

 

“They specialize in mining surveys and geological analysis,” Mannion explained. “I think George was meeting someone there. Afterward, he went straight to Doris McLeod’s apartment.”

 

Lavallee’s mind raced. If George had been consulting with a geological firm, it suggested the gold Luke and Peter found wasn’t fool’s gold after all.

 

“That’s excellent work, Murray,” Lavallee said. “Follow up with Mission Discovery. Find out what George was doing there.”

 

Back at Mrs. O’Hara’s:

 

By the time Lavallee returned to Mrs. O’Hara’s boarding house, it was well past 10 PM. True to form, she greeted him with a plate of warmed leftovers.

 

“You’re working too hard, Detective,” she chided lightly as she set the food in front of him.

 

Lavallee smiled, grateful for her care. “It’s not hard work when you’re getting closer to the truth.”

 

As he ate, his thoughts churned. Gold—the possibility of it—seemed to be the thread tying everything together. If Ian had discovered its presence on the farm, it could explain his renewed interest in selling, and at a higher price.  But it also meant others might have been motivated to stop him from leaving.

 

“Mrs. O’Hara,” Lavallee said thoughtfully, “did you ever hear Ian McLeod talk about gold?”

 

She pursed her lips. “Not directly. But people around here love to speculate. If there was gold on that farm, you can bet it wouldn’t stay secret for long.”

 

Lavallee nodded, her words underscoring his growing suspicion. The McLeod family’s secrets were slowly surfacing, but he knew the real answers were still buried—deeper than even he’d expected.

 

As he prepared for bed, Lavallee couldn’t shake the feeling that the discovery of gold had set this entire tragedy in motion. And if that were true, Ian’s death was just the beginning.