Concealed Intentions: Day 7

Word Count: 42,004

Summary of Events:

Borden met Ty, who told him some intriguing information: Honour's father Grady had been earmarked to replace a powerful gangster in Prince George who had died, suggesting a rival for the post had kidnapped Honour. Nadia went for an interview at the hotel; she'd walked there, but found Vitaly waiting for her when she finished, so she accepted the ride home, only for her father to see them together and get viciously upset. On his way home from work Borden caught the news, the lead story being of a carjacker headed north whose description matched the picture of Grady Borden had seen in earlier investigating of Honour, and Borden suspected it was Grady, as the location of the carjacking fit with where Grady would've just been released from prison . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Borden was surprised the connection hadn’t been made between Grady and the carjackings, unless he’d been out for the day and wasn’t expected back yet, as soon as he was, though, Borden was sure the news reports were going to change to name the carjacker as Grady Fedoruk.

Now there was only one thing that left Borden puzzling: why had Grady left the 97 for the 12? The 97 was the more direct route to Prince George.

All he could surmise was that Grady wasn’t headed to Prince George; but if he wasn’t headed to Prince George then where was he headed? Wherever Honour was.

So then if Borden could figure out where Grady was going before he could get there it was possible that the police could rescue Honour before she ever met her father.

But then again, considering Borden hadn’t told the police about the journal or the murder next door yet, did he dare tell the police what he suspected? Did the police already suspect the same thing? Or would they as soon as they found out the carjacker was Grady?

After all, the police probably knew that Grady was a criminal, and that he was about to be released on parole, and had probably been looking into gangster connections sooner than Borden had sought Ty’s aid with the same, so who said they didn’t already have a better idea of where she was? Maybe they didn’t even need to wait for Grady to go there.

Still, it’d been over a week since Honour was kidnapped, obviously things were going slowly for the police if she hadn’t been found yet. Maybe they were waiting for Grady to get to the place so they could close in.

So much for not thinking about Honour’s kidnapping; but still, Borden had to admit, he wanted to do something to help, and if that was puzzling out Honour’s location and rescuing her before the police could, then maybe that was it.

After all, part of his military training had been survival outdoors in extreme situations, not to mention he’d spent a lot of time out in the bush with friends growing up in a logging town, he knew how to navigate through forests and over mountains and all those sorts of things that might be useful in the montane landscape that not only surrounded Prince George, but dominated the topography of British Columbia.

Borden decided to keep tabs on what the developments were with the carjacker he was sure was Grady, but he might have to do what he could to seek out Dane and the others who’d broken with Ty to see if he could get more information faster, as with Grady knowing where he was going already, Borden was pretty sure the clock ticking down how much time there was for Honour to be rescued had just accelerated significantly, meaning that anyone who wanted to act to help her needed to act with haste.

Concealed Intentions: Day 6

Word Count: 36,025

Summary of Events:

Nadia spoke with Vitaly a little more intently on the idea of her getting a job, agreeing that it might be a good idea for her to make some money to put her a bit further ahead than her fellow students when she graduated from her secondary education. Borden mulled over the argument he'd overheard and plotted how he might lie to his probation officer if he came up with a reasonable guess as to where Honour was found — as to outright tell the police could actually get him into trouble, instead of causing him to be celebrated. Vitaly texted Nadia a link to a possible job for her, based on her interest in foreign languages . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Nadia tapped on the included link, which informed her that Vitaly had found a job for her waiting tables at a restaurant, and not just any restaurant, but one of the nicest restaurants in all of Chișinău, which belonged to one of the fanciest hotels in town.

Should any foreigners with means come to Moldova — and there were a decent number that did for both business and recreational purposes — they usually stayed at the hotel and ate at the restaurant.

How in the world had Vitaly found a job for her there? Would they even accept her?

Her father was a decently rich man by Moldovan standards — even if that meant little to nothing outside of Moldova, considering how almost worthless the leu was — so maybe she was being a little neurotic.

However there was still that fact that she’d never worked a day in her life; it wasn’t just because she hadn’t really needed to work — seeing as Mama and Father both had pretty nice jobs — but because most jobs, especially that were available to teens and young adults, involved talking to people she didn’t know, and the job Vitaly had found for her — waiting tables — was built entirely around that activity.

It was partially fear, strangers were intimidating, but it was also partly the fact that Nadia always felt like she said something wrong, and sometimes Nadia never really felt like she was all that good at communicating with people.

Furthermore, working at a hotel restaurant, surely that would necessitate speaking the language of the guests — especially as a waitress. Nadia was only fluent in Russian and Moldovan.

As a result, she could pretty effectively speak Ukrainian, Belorussian, Romanian, and even fudge some Italian — as well as a good portion of the other Cyrillic-lettered languages like Bulgarian and Serbian — but when it went beyond that; German, French, English, the Scandinavian languages; Nadia had no clue.

She wanted to learn and know some of these languages, but at present she didn’t even know basic words like ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ in many of the languages, how was she supposed to take orders from these people? Or were they all going to try to speak Russian or Moldovan to her?

Nadia read through the criteria of requirements and was rather astonished to see that she was neither required to have had any prior experience in the foodservice industry, but she wasn’t even required to speak any extra foreign languages.

So it seemed it was the tourists who were expected to oblige the staff, not the other way around — at least on the linguistic front.

Usually guests were the ones accommodated, no? Well, thinking about it even on the smaller scale of having guests in the house, Nadia had to admit, guests weren’t always catered to, but when it came to eating and attention they definitely were, so maybe she could see why the tourists would be forced to speak Moldovan or Russian, or to figure it out somehow.

Pronunciation:

leu: lehyoo

Concealed Intentions: Day 5

Word Count: 30,183

Summary of Events:

Borden read some more in the book he'd found chronicling Honour's life, although he had to admit it was boring reading about the day-to-day life of a preschool child. Nadia went out with Vitaly for her birthday and they talked about her father's desire for her to go to Moscow, with Vitaly telling her that it had to do with their father's political aspirations, although he was unsure how. Borden was fuelling up his car, watching the traffic go by . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

One of the first motorcycles Borden had seen since the snow had started to clear looked to be heading by, but then pulled something of a u-turn into the station lot and pulled up alongside Borden’s car before the biker shut his roaring engine off and swung off.

It was only when the biker removed his helmet that Borden realised why.

“If it isn’t the soldier,” the biker said.

“Ex-soldier, but long time no see to you too Ty,” Borden replied.

“Ex-soldier?” Ty asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Borden replied. “I landed in hospital with broken bones yet I’m the one charged with assault.”

“Oh,” Ty said. “I never would’ve picked you to get locked up, you were going to walk the straightest line of any of us Out-Crowders.”

“I know,” Borden replied, shrugging.

“So what’re you doing now?” Ty asked, leaning on the roof of Borden’s car from the other side.

“Meat cutting at the grocery store,” Borden replied.

“Still trying to keep it straight?” Ty chuckled.

“Yeah,” Borden replied. 

The handle of the nozzle popped and Borden turned. He clicked the handle until he was able to reach the nearest dollar and then hung it back in its cradle on the pump. He screwed the cap back in place and shut the door.

“We should hang out sometime,” Ty said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Borden said.

“So long as it doesn’t hurt your straight life, I know,” Ty said, smirking.

He slid his helmet back on and swung astride his bike again. A thought suddenly struck Borden.

“Ty,” he said.

“Yeah?” Ty flipped his visor up.

“You ever had anything to do with Grady Fedoruk?” Borden asked.

“He’s not on my team, no,” Ty replied. “Had to deal with him, though. Why are you asking?”

“You know that girl who was kidnapped last week,” Borden replied.

“I don’t spend time with kids on a regular basis,” Ty replied. “And I don’t know who would’ve taken her.”

“Grady’s her dad,” Borden said.

Ty straightened in shock and swore. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Borden replied.

“How do you know that?” Ty asked.

“I was next-door neighbour to his hired eyes,” Borden replied. “He wanted to know what his daughter’s life was like while he was absent.”

“Now that puts a wrinkle in things, doesn’t it,” Ty said.

“You have any idea who might be out after him?” Borden asked.

“There’s a few names,” Ty replied, he touched his leg. “I think that’s somebody telling me I’m late, I’ll think on it and get back to you.”

Borden nodded and Ty started up his bike with a roar and tore off for wherever he was headed. Borden headed off to pay for his fuel with a nervous twist in his stomach, hopeful no one had heard — or could ever hear — that conversation, but yet hopeful that his dubious friend would be able to help him puzzle out a theory.

Concealed Intentions: Day 4

Word Count: 24,128

Summary of Events:

Nadia met Vitaly after school so he could take her out for her birthday, but discovered his girlfriend had accompanied him when she'd been under the impression it would just be the two of them, upset, she refused to go with him and went home; he called her there and she explained why she was upset, he apologised and arranged to meet her the following day without his girlfriend. Borden was arranging fresh-cut steaks onto trays to be wrapped and placed out for sale, since the work was pretty rote he let his mind wander to the kidnapping . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

All that the public knew was that she was a foster child whose parents didn’t have custody of her because they were in jail — which proved to Borden that Honour was the daughter of Grady and Rita Fedoruk — and that she had been kidnapped somewhere along Ospika Boulevard South between four and quarter after on Friday.

The police had put out a call to anyone and everyone travelling along Ospika Boulevard South between quarter to and half past four, seeking information on vehicles pulled over to the side of the road and such, but no tips or leads were present yet.

There were, however, an abundance of false reports flying about Social Media that Honour was in a myriad of locations across British Columbia, and even some reports that she was in Alberta.

The police were only pursuing leads that were called in to the police tip line, except if the caller told the police they’d seen it on Social Media. The police only wanted legitimate tips, and if people knew the police tip number then they likely were legitimate tips, as although the police tip number wasn’t hidden, it wasn’t as memorable as 911, thus if someone was calling via the tip line then the likelihood of their tip being useful was greater because they’d put a more concentrated effort in to apprising the police of it.

Borden had more information that the public, thanks in a small part to his researching Grady and Rita Fedoruk — neither of whom boasted much information online; it was mostly just articles talking about their arrests, trials, and, in Grady’s case, releases; there was no real life story information and no actual concrete evidence he could find that proved that they were Honour’s parents.

However, he also had the journal telling of Honour’s life, and he’d started reading more of it in recent days. So far he’d learned that the woman next door had been able to get disconcertingly close to Honour.

She’d never been able to — nor, it seemed, been inclined to — kidnap Honour, but she’d actually been able to keep a pretty close eye on Honour.

From the sounds of her writing she had been able to figure out the Schreiber family’s routine pretty quickly and had been able to follow them on it pretty seamlessly, reporting on how Honour was growing and developing as she ran her weekly errands.

Borden had made it through Honour’s first year, and the last entry he’d read last night had revealed that Isabel was pregnant again, as she’d been seen by the spy getting congratulated by a family friend on her latest conception.

He hoped it wouldn’t take too long to read through the whole thing, although he had to admit a lot of it was mundane, but it was likely to get more interesting as time went on and Honour got older.

After all, if Honour was presently seven years old, then that meant she’d completed two years of school: Kindergarten and Grade 1, thus there would be more to report about than the mundane weekly routine of the Schreiber family.

Concealed Intentions: Day 3

Word Count: 18,163

Summary of Events:

Nadia told her brother, Vitaly, about their father's plans for her when he texted to wish her a happy birthday and was surprised when, instead of ranting and raving, he just shut down and wished her good night. Borden returned home from work and looked up Honour's surname to figure out why he recognised it; he discovered it was because there was a pair of criminals from Prince George who also bore it; in fact, he even found an article speculating the couple were Honour's parents and that her kidnapping was tied to the man, Grady, having been released from prison hardly a week ago. While waiting for her parents to finish chatting after church Nadia took a walk along the street the church was on and ended up finding her brother and some of his friends; she found the chat with her brother pleasant and not at all like their text conversation, although she noted that her father had spied her brother, and expected some harsh questions to follow . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Neither of her parents asked her where she’d been — they knew she took walks while waiting for them to finish talking — although she was surprised, seeing as she was sure Father had noticed Vitaly.

When they reached home a few minutes later Nadia headed up to her room to change out of the dress she’d worn to church and into somewhat more comfortable clothes, but her arm was seized by Father, who’d likely followed her up the stairs, and she was hauled into his office before she could do so.

“Was that Vitaly?” Father demanded.

“Yes Father,” Nadia replied.

“What was he doing there?” Father demanded.

“He’d been at a business up the street,” Nadia replied. “He wanted to wish me a happy birthday.”

The hardness in her father’s eyes softened only slightly. “And that was all?”

“Yes Father,” Nadia replied.

“You are not to have anything to do with him, do you understand?” Father asked.

“Why not Father?” Nadia asked, feeling shocked.

“I will not have you corrupted like he has been corrupted,” Father replied harshly. “I fathered two children, but only one lives, and I will not have her taken from me by the same evils which claimed my son.”

Nadia said nothing. He really thought of Vitaly as dead?

“I cannot father any more children, and even if I could, at this point I would be too old to ensure they had a good future,” Father said. “Neither should I have to father any more children to get a success.”

A success? Nadia felt qualms stir in her stomach.

“Have I made myself clear Nadia?” Father asked sternly.

“Yes Father,” Nadia replied.

Father released her and opened the door, striding out and leaving Nadia to stare at the window that, like her own, looked out at the backyard.

When she heard Mama and Father’s bedroom door close she pushed herself off of the wall and turned around to look at the closed door before stepping into the hallway and going into her room.

No wonder Father was being so demanding of her; he thought there was no redeeming Vitaly, he considered Vitaly dead, and so all of his hopes hinged on Nadia. But what were his hopes? Merely that she would get a good-paying job? Or was there something more to it than that?

Nadia wondered if Father really meant to give her a choice about her secondary schooling, or if he would just force her to go to MGIMO no matter what. She wasn’t even sure if he really meant to give her a choice at all, even though he hadn’t brought it up since her birthday.

Pronunciation:

Vitaly: vihtahlee

Concealed Intentions: Day 2

Word Count: 12,024

Summary of Events:

Nadia was informed by her father that, now that she was eighteen, it was time for her to decide on her secondary education and informed her that he intended to send her to Moscow to take financial economy, but she resisted the idea and only thanks to her mother's efforts was he willing to let her have some time to inform him of what she wanted to do instead. After not enough sleep Borden got up and had his usual scant breakfast before heading for work, doing his best to put all the thoughts of the early-morning murder out of his head . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The news music came on and Borden turned the radio up a bit so that it was more than just a murmur slightly louder than the combined engine, wheels on pavement, and wind whipping around the outside.

“An Amber Alert has been issued for seven-year-old Honour Fedoruk,” the newswoman announced. “She was last seen at four PM heading east on Aleza Crescent, departing the home of a friend for her own home on Reid Crescent, but never appeared, being reported missing by her foster parents at six PM.”

Shock left Borden numb, he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, barely remembering to press the red triangle-adorned button that controlled his hazard lights so that people wouldn’t think he was an outright freak.

“Honour is described as blonde, blue-eyed, one point two three metres tall, and weighing twenty five kilos,” the newswoman continued. “She was last seen wearing black running shoes, blue jeans, a pink t-shirt, and an orange sweater made to look like a fox. Anyone with information about her whereabouts is advised to call the RCMP at once.”

The news report went on, but Borden stared at his speedometer in shock. Honour Fedoruk. That notebook stuffed under his mattress was about Honour Fedoruk. That woman who’d been murdered last night had been spying on Honour.

Borden didn’t know what it all meant, but he felt cold. His uncle’s niece and her husband had just had a child kidnapped. Even if she wasn’t biological, she was still their child, and what said Social Services wouldn’t panic and take all their kids — even their biological ones — from them until Honour was found?

It wasn’t until a bright, cheery jingle advertising a heating and air conditioning company informed him the news report was over that Borden was able to recover himself enough to drive on.

He was lucky if he did the speed limit the rest of the way to work as he shut his radio back off, not able to take in anything more with the shock that had settled into his bones.

Arriving at work, he parked on the shady side of the building where the staff usually parked because customers rarely used that portion of the lot — in spite of its shady benefits — and shut off the engine.

He stared at the logo in the middle of the steering wheel for a long time, only the tick-like sounds of the cooling engine reaching his ears.

There was no doubt about it; Honour Fedoruk had been kidnapped, but why? What did it all mean? How was the murder he’d heard connected? How was the conversation he’d heard connected?

Concealed Intentions: Day 1

Word Count: 6,017

Summary of Events:

Borden was woken by a nightmare and went outside to clear his head; as he stood outside he heard an argument in the next apartment over followed by sounds of a struggle that seemed to end in the demise of one of the two arguers. He was unable to see who either of the arguers were — in part because the sliding door onto his deck didn't work nicely — but snuck into the apartment next door and found evidence of a killing, although killer and victim were gone . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Cautiously he made his way about the apartment, which had little in the way of personal effects and touches, looking for something that might tell him who he’d lived next door to — as he’d honestly not known.

After all, one of his parole conditions was to stay away from women, which he had been doing as diligently as possible. In fact, he’d pretty much just been staying away from everyone he didn’t have to be near, which left his only acquaintances as his parole officers and his fellow employees at the butcher shop.

A glance at the stove clock early on in his searching informed him that it was past one in the morning, and by the time he found the book the clock on the nightstand told him it was ten minutes after two.

The book was spiral bound, about three centimetres thick, fifteen centimetres across, and twenty five to thirty centimetres long. It was a generic five-subject notebook such as could be found at any office-supply store, or such a department of a larger store.

As most books of its ilk did, it had a line for the owner to put their name across, but inscribed there instead was Life of Honour Fedoruk in fine-tipped black marker.

Carefully lifting open the thick card cover, he found blue ink in the same print — which was distinctly neat and feminine — spelling out something of a journal entry:

Sunday, February 26

So apparently your little girl is going to be getting a religious education. She was dedicated to god during the church service this morning, with the whole crowd standing up and agreeing that they would help her to grow up to be a godly young woman.

I stood up so as to not stick out, but I don’t think I’m going to go to one of those services again unless something important happens relating to Honour. I saved my pamphlet in case you wanted the memento, but I must warn you, they don’t appear to be abiding by your wish for your last name to be kept on her, as every time she was mentioned by name, and every time it was written up, even in the pamphlet, it was with the foster family’s name.

Turning the page, he found a church bulletin — he knew it was called a bulletin from having been to a church service once and having seen one held up and called a bulletin from the pulpit during the announcements that’d opened up the service — dated from that same day seven years ago.

It listed the order of service, including the titles of the songs sung, and one of the items in the list was Dedication of Honour Vera Schreiber. Schreiber. Why did he know that name?

He flipped on through the book, finding that it was a chronicle of a very real child, complete with other mementoes, such as church and school Christmas pageant programs — all of which listed the child as Honour Fedoruk.

Pronunciation:

Fedoruk: fehdohruhk