Dead Ends by Don Easton Page A

sound of the toilet flushing announced where he was.
    Ai-li, at sixty-four years of age, was two months younger than her husband. They both planned to retire next year. Up until a few months ago, they always kept the store open until midnight, but the neighbourhood was not what it once was.
    Port Coquitlam, less than an hour drive from Vancouver, was no longer a quiet neighbourhood where people knew each other. Shoplifters had become bolder. Empty beer and liquor bottles were often smashed in their small parking lot. Frank often threatened to call the police, but in reality, he was afraid that if he did, the store windows would be smashed in retaliation.
    Times had changed from when they used to give free candy to neighbourhood children or run small grocery orders to some of the elderly who lived nearby. The elderly had moved on. Ai-li understood. She did not mind that they closed three hours earlier now. She was looking forward to the day they would close for the last time.
    Ai-li was reaching for the door when it was yanked open in front of her. A tall, skinny man with droopy eyes stepped in, waving a syringe containing a bloodly liquid in her face.
    â€œThe money,” the addict said. He did not yell, but there was the sound of determination in his voice. “Or I’ll stick ya with this … and believe me, AIDS ain’t somethin’ ya want to have.”
    Ai-li nodded her willingness to comply. She was too afraid to talk as she hurried to open the till. The addict followed, but remained on the opposite side of the counter.
    â€œThe money,” he repeated. “Hurry up.” He stared intently at Ai-li’s face as his body rocked back and forth.
    Ai-li quickly took the money from the till and put it in a bag and pushed it toward him.
    He remained rocking back and forth, staring at her.
    â€œThat’s all of it,” she whimpered.
    He stared back at her in a stupor before his face contorted in rage. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and plunged the needle into her arm, injecting the bloody liquid. “I told you to hurry!” he yelled, before letting go and stepping back, still holding the syringe.
    Ai-li stood paralyzed in shock as the addict stepped back and waved the empty syringe in the air. The rage left his face and he said, “The money … or I’ll stick ya with this. AIDS ain’t somethin’ ya want …” He stared at the empty syringe and blinked his eyes in confusion.
    Ai-li’s mouth hung open as she looked at her arm. “I did!” she cried, gesturing to the plastic bag.

Chapter Ten
    Chapter Ten
    On Tuesday morning, Jack listened to the details over the phone as the uniformed Mountie from Port Coquitlam told him about the robbery. As he listened, Jack thought about his own life and his time with Natasha on Friday night. Life can change in a heartbeat … value every second .
    â€œCanine Unit tracked him down,” the Mountie said. “The guy does have AIDS, so I guess it’s a good thing the dog didn’t bite him.”
    â€œAIDS cannot be transferred from an infected person to an animal,” replied Jack.
    â€œYeah? Good to know. Too bad it isn’t that way with people. Personally I cringe every time I have to arrest someone who is combative.”
    â€œDon’t you pack a Taser?”
    â€œAre you kidding? With the crap we get for using Tasers these days I’d be better off shooting them. Anyway, the guy wasn’t a problem. The asshole was so stoned he was lying in some bushes. Said he couldn’t remember if he dreamed he did it, or actually did. He had a small amount of meth in his pocket. CPIC says you are interested in him so —”
    â€œAnyone talk to him to see where he got the meth?” asked Jack. “I’m trying to track down any labs or even rumours of labs at this point.”
    â€œI don’t have any info on any labs,” replied the Mountie. “As far as where