Cold Mourning

by Brenda Chapman

  She started walking slowly upstairs, undoing her blouse as she went. She winced as she pulled the sleeve down her arm. A sleep and then a bath. The detective seemed awfully concerned with her welfare no matter how many times she told her not to be. Susan stood at the entrance to the bedroom she shared with Clinton and looked at the king size bed for a moment before continuing down the hall. The bed in the smallest spare room was made up and the place she slept when Clinton was away.

  The detective didn’t need to be so concerned with her welfare because she wasn’t. If someone wanted to kill her, she’d welcome it. A quick death was preferable to the empty life that lay before her without Tom. It would be considerably better than the miserable existence she was going to have with Clinton if she didn’t work up the energy to leave him. If she could close her eyes and never wake up, she would choose to do so with no regret, no looking back. Death would be a blessing.

  34

  Friday, February 24, 12:50 p.m.

  “‘This time, say the lines as if you’re talking to a superior who’s also a girlfriend. Aim for officious but caring.’ Can you believe the nonsense?” said Kala. She picked up her milkshake and took a slurp. “I would never tell my girlfriend that financial constraints are the reason the department’s murder- solving stats are low. Besides, more resources aren’t the problem. We have to go into investigations with an open mind and screw the politics.”

  Whelan grinned. “You’re the only one I know who’s actually questioned the canned message in media training. The important thing though is to pass.”

  “Oh, I’ll pass. This afternoon we get our final feedback and a certificate. Then I’ll be the brown face of the department.”

  “Well, you’ll be a more refreshing face than the old guy doing it now.”

  “That sounds like ageism, Whelan, which is about as pretty as racism.”

  “Guilty as charged. We’re a shallow lot, me and my male friends. That includes men of all ages and races. Personally, I’m hoping they put you in a miniskirt.”

  Kala laughed. “Are you going to finish that burger? It is your second.”

  Whelan lifted it from the table and took a bite. “I’m keeping up my strength. I’m back on the beat, interviewing cab drivers this afternoon.”

  “It’s not looking promising, is it?”

  “No. We need someone to come forward.”

  “No developments on the Underwood and Goldstone murders?”

  “Nothing concrete. Of course, I’m just doing grunt paperwork now and not one of those in the know.”

  “Almost March already. The trail is cold.”

  “The latest theory is that J.P. Belliveau hired someone to kill them. We’re close to arresting him if you believe Grayson.”

  “I’d still like to know how Grayson weaseled himself onto the lead team.”

  “Grayson will always land on his feet. He’s a self-serving animal. So, have you found an apartment yet?”

  “Nope, I’m still at the Y. The place is growing on me. I’ve started using the gym after work now that overtime has ended.”

  “Don’t forget we’re having you and the Maliks over for supper Sunday.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. The kids are good?”

  “Yes, knock on wood. Our lives are back to normal for the moment. I’m just sorry I missed all the excitement over the Christmas holidays. It would have been something to be part of the murder investigations, if only for a week. Lousy timing.”

  “I wanted to solve the murders so Rouleau would get credit.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  Whelan scrunched up the wrappings from his hamburgers and stood. “Well, time to get back to the office, and you’ll be needing to get your TV star certificate. See you Sunday around six. Don’t bring anything but yourself.”

  “I’ll be there. You go ahead. I’m just going to go buy another chocolate shake to take back to the classroom.”

  “The camera puts on ten pounds, don’t forget.”

  “Whatever gets me out of wearing a miniskirt.”

  Kala watched Whelan walk away, then joined the line up in front of the cashiers. This might put her a few minutes late, but it wasn’t like she was learning anything earth-shattering. She reached the front of the line when her cellphone rang. The number was vaguely familiar. She hit the button and held the phone to her ear.

  “Stonechild. Can I help you?”

  “Kala? It’s Maya. I’m at the Ottawa Mission serving lunch. Now I know they called off the search for Annie Littlewolf, but I remembered that last time we spoke you were still interested in talking to her. If you still are, Annie just walked in.”

  Kala’s heart started pounding faster. “Yes, I am. Is she there now?”

  “She’s just come in for something to eat. If you hurry, you might catch her. The young girl’s not with her though.”

  “I’m on my way. Try to stall Annie if you can, but don’t tell her I’m coming. I don’t want to spook her.”

  “You got it, child.”

  Kala waved off the kid behind the counter and started running toward the exit, zipping up her jacket as she ran. A line of cabs was always parked outside the Weston Hotel and would save valuable minutes. The media relations guru would have to wrap up the class without her.

  Maya met Kala as soon as she stepped inside the hall. She waved a dish towel toward the door, nearly out of breath. “You’re too late. Annie just left with some food, but I think you can catch her if you hurry. She crossed the street and started heading north. You can just see her green jacket, there, past those two men on the corner.”

  “Thanks Maya. I owe you.”

  Kala exited quickly and dashed across Waller Street, keeping her eyes on the retreating green jacket. She slipped on a piece of ice and stumbled against the curb but managed to stay upright. She regained her footing and stepped over the snowbank onto the recently plowed sidewalk. Patches of ice glistened in the sunlight.

  They’d had a two-week thaw but the temperature had dipped below freezing again overnight, making ice patches out of melting snow. The Rideau Canal was closed to skaters and people were being warned to stay off the ice on the rivers and lakes. The temperatures had been swinging like a pendulum in the Ottawa spring. Whelan had warned her that cold and storms could blow in on a minute’s notice, but he’d also said the wild weather wouldn’t last long.

  Annie disappeared around the corner and Kala started jogging. When she turned right onto Daly, she caught sight of Annie again and started walking more cautiously on the slippery sidewalk. She held back a little to keep Annie from knowing that she was being followed.

  Annie continued up Daly and turned left on Cumberland. She continued past Rideau Street into the ByWard Market. Kala stayed close enough not to lose her if Annie veered off course unexpectedly. At York Street, Annie made a right and walked half-way down the block. She stopped in front of a two-storey, box-shaped house that looked to be divided into apartments. The exterior walls were covered in white vinyl siding stained yellow and the yard was the size of a postage stamp. Pigeons huddled on the roof where heat was escaping. Annie walked up the sidewalk and climbed the front steps. She kicked the door open with her foot.

  Kala waited a few minutes before following her. The front door was unlocked and she stepped into a dingy hallway with doors to two apartments directly ahead. A staircase led to apartments upstairs, two more if Kala had to guess. The air was heavy with cooking grease and stale cigarette smoke. She hesitated, unsure which door to try. Finally, she knocked at the one on the right. Nobody answered. She listened at the other door but heard nobody within. She climbed the stairs, her feet seeking clean spots on the stained carpet. On the landing, she stopped and strained to hear noises inside one of the two apartments. A woman was talking inside the door on the right. Kala knocked and stepped back to wait. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened. Annie Littlewolf’s suspicious black eyes met hers.

  “Yeah?”
r />   Seventeen years had led to this door. Kala took a deep breath. “Annie Littlewolf?”

  Annie’s eyes filled with suspicion. She started to close the door as she asked, “You a cop?”

  “That’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for someone. My cousin Rose and her daughter Dawn.”

  “Really? Cause I don’t know nobody by those names.”

  “Please. I’ve been looking a long time. We grew up together, on a rez. Birdtail Creek.” She caught a movement inside. Annie turned sideways and looked back into the apartment.

  “Let her in.” A husky voice thick with phlegm came from behind her.

  Annie stepped aside without a word and motioned for Kala to enter. Her eyes stayed hostile.

  Kala walked into the darkened apartment. Blankets covered the two windows in the living room but there was enough light to see a woman lying on the couch in the center of the room. A pink blanket covered her legs. The coffee table in front of her was empty except for a coffee mug and a tinfoil ashtray at arm’s length. The ashtray held two half-smoked cigarettes. The place reeked of cigarettes and stale beer. The only other furniture was two plastic garden chairs and a table used as a stand for an old-fashioned television. An afternoon drama flickered without sound on the screen.

  Kala approached the woman on the couch. Time had hollowed out her cheeks and dried her skin. The black braids were laced with premature grey. Her exhausted black eyes stared at Kala without recognition.

  “Lily,” Kala said softly. “It’s me, Sunny.”

  “Christ, Sunny Stonechild? I never thought I’d hear that name again.” Lily’s voice echoed in the nearly empty room. “Little Sunny. I called you that because you always had this shit-faced smile, like you was waiting for something good to happen.”

  Kala grinned. “We were a club of two back then. Remember the ceremony when we cut our arms and gave each other those secret names?”

  “Yeah. When we made ourselves cousins. You’d read some book where the white kids had a clubhouse and secret password. You wouldn’t stop badgering me until we made up a secret group with names for each other. Never could figure out why you picked the name Lily for me.”

  “I loved lilies. The first time I saw a bay full of them I wanted to pick every one. You reminded me of a lily.”

  “Would have been a waste to pick them. Lilies don’t last out of water once you cut the root. Roses do for a while anyhow. I chose the name Rose when I moved to Thunder Bay because the idea of being a flower grew on me.” She shifted positions on the couch. “Have a seat and take the load off. What’re you doing in Ottawa?”

  Kala moved the plastic chair closer so that she was in Rose’s line of vision. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. Last summer I went back to Birdtail Creek. Roger’s still there. He’s nearly sixty but keeps up his trapline. He had an address for you in Ottawa, but you’d moved by the time I got to it.”

  “I move a lot. Roger kept in touch with me for a while after I left Birdtail. He was the only one. We lost contact for a lot of years, but I sent him a postcard when we moved here, when it seemed I had a decent place. I wasn’t happy living in the Peg but I got my grade nine at least. I boarded with this family and the father used to come into my room at night and look at me when he thought I was sleeping. The day after he decided to do more than look, I took off for Thunder Bay. I wanted to kill him but one body was enough on my conscience.” Her lips raised in a sideways smile. “That’s where I met Paul.”

  “Is he Dawn’s father?”

  “Shit, how do you know about Dawn?”

  “Your old neighbour across the hall told me when I went there to find you.

  Rose shook her head. “That old bat was one nosy piece of work. I made up stories to keep her from coming over and bugging me. She thought I was a raging wino, which suited me fine. Yeah, Paul is Dawn’s daddy. We moved to Toronto to look for work. Nobody was hiring.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “We got real good at B and E’s.” She laughed and broke into a fit of coughing that racked her body. Annie appeared with a glass of water and some pills. Rose managed to swallow a tablet and the coughing stopped.

  Annie straightened the blanket around Rose’s legs. “Let me know if you want anything else,” she said before leaving.

  “You’re sick,” said Kala.

  “Tail end of pneumonia. Plus I got run down and have something called anemia. I’ll be fine when the warmer weather comes.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “There’s a free clinic. I’ve been a couple of times. Dawn and Rosie are looking after me just fine.”

  “We were searching for Annie after her partner died.”

  “She used to panhandle near the restaurant where I worked. I ran into her one time when I left the clinic and she helped me home. I told her to stay if she wanted. She was kind of broken up because her old man up and died when they were drinking together and she hated being alone. Also, she thought she might get blamed. I told her just to lay low with us.”

  “Where’s Dawn now?”

  “Today’s a PD day but she went to the youth centre for the afternoon. She likes to play basketball and they have an arts program that she likes more than breathing. She’s real good at drawing. She should be home soon.”

  They were quiet for a moment. Rosie leaned back against the cushion. “Whatever happened to Rascal, your little dog? You sure were crazy about that mutt.”

  “A few weeks after you left, one of the boys where I was living let Rascal off his leash. He was hit by a car on the highway and died.” Kala faltered. “I ran away right after and hid in the bush, but Roger found me just before dark. They let me live with him for a while but then found another family for me in Regina. I lived with them for a few years and they moved to a town in Ontario. I went to school in Sudbury and became a cop.” She didn’t mention the years in between.

  Rose’s eyes studied her. “A cop. I guess that makes sense. We both had to make up for what we done somehow.”

  “It was my fault. I got in the van. If it hadn’t been for me, we never would have killed that man. I needed to find you to make sure you were okay. I need to make it right.” It was the guilt she’d had to live with her whole life, the sorrow she’d never been able to say out loud.

  Rose half rose from the couch. She shook her head. “Nah, it was his fault. We were just two kids who didn’t know any better. It took me a long time to realize that. It took me having Dawn. You have to let it go, Sun. I have.”

  “You should blame me, Rose. I got us into that trouble.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? That man got us into that trouble. He set his own fate when he drove us up that dirt road and did what he did to us. You and me, we were just victims. We did nothing we need to be ashamed about. Nothing.”

  The door opened behind them and a cold draught of air pushed in from the unheated hallway. Kala turned. Dawn was in the foyer, hunched over taking off her rubber boots. When she straightened, she spotted Kala. Dawn hung her jacket on a hook and walked into the living room carrying a rolled up paper. She sat on the couch by her mother’s feet.

  “I made you a picture, Mama,” she said and handed over the gift. She kept her eyes on Kala. They were Rose’s black eyes partially hidden by straight black bangs. The rest of her hair was pulled into two braids. She was tall and slender in jeans and a faded black sweatshirt with a rip in the sleeve.

  Rose unrolled it and held it so Kala could see. Dawn had drawn a sunset over the river in pen and ink. It was detailed for a girl of twelve.

  “This is different than your paintings, but I love it too,” said Rose.

  “I have a new teacher.”

  “Thank you, my sweet child. Meet my cousin Sunny. You were named after her.”

  “Hi Dawn. My name is actually Kala, but your mom and I decided to be cousins with new names when we were about your age.”

  “What was your new name, Mom?” Dawn’s eyes danced at the
thought.

  “Lily.”

  “Lily. I like that name. I wish I had a cousin or a sister,” said Dawn. “Maybe I can find one like you two did. How are you feeling, Mom?”

  “Better today. Annie brought some supper home. Why don’t you go eat and get your homework done?”

  “Okay. You only smoked two today?”

  “Yup. And only half of each.”

  “Good. That’s real good. Nice to meet you, Kala.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Dawn.”

  “Honey, take the picture and tape it up with the rest.”

  Dawn took the rolled up paper. “Okay, Mom. Are you going to eat too?”

  “Not yet, but save me a few bites.” Rose watched Dawn walk away from her, then looked over at Kala. “You didn’t ask about Paul and me but you probably wonder. Paul’s doing a stretch at Kingston Penitentiary. He got six years for armed robbery but should be out soon. We’re waiting for him.” Her eyes challenged Kala to judge her. The defiant Lily from their childhood had returned.

  “Your daughter is beautiful. She looks like you did at that age.”

  “She’s why I cleaned up and went straight. Paul wouldn’t though. He liked stealing stuff from people who wouldn’t miss it. I had a job in a restaurant until I got sick. I’m going to find another one when I get my strength.”

  “Can I come see you again?”

  “Are you sure you want to? A lot of years have passed and we were just kids.”

  “You’re still my blood cousin. You’re the only family I got.”

  Rose looked at her with the old mocking smile. “Yeah, come by. We’re not going nowhere for a while. It might be nice to have some family again.”

  Kala stood. “I’ll come see you tomorrow.” She already had plans to go shopping for food. The old Lily would never ask for her help, but she was going to give it anyhow.

  35

  Saturday, February 25, 10:00 a.m.

  Saturday morning the sun broke through at close to eight o’clock. Streaks of pink light gradually strengthened in brilliance until the winter sun climbed to its lookout over the Ottawa Valley. Temperatures had plummeted during the night and continued to fall during the early morning hours until they reached a frigid minus twenty-two degrees Celsius at ten a.m. when Kala made her way to the Elgin Street Diner for a late breakfast. She’d already spent an hour in the gym, showered, and done a load of laundry. Finding Rose had left her energized and eager to get started on improving their lives. This was what she’d dreamed of from the moment she’d watched Lily walk away from her for the last time that fall day on Birdtail reserve.