The house was silent and he smelt the layer of musty dust that had settled in since the McKenna woman’s murder — or was it only his imagination?
Christ, he ached. His arm was throbbing like an infected tooth times a hundred and his side was stiffening up but nothing broken, thank the great god above. The painkiller they’d shot into his arm was starting to wear off.
He hobbled toward the stairs like a much older man, clutching the banister with his one good hand and leaning heavily against the wall to catch his breath. Was this what it was going to be like in the years ahead? He hoped he died in his sleep before that happened.
He’d left Antonia alone for just over four hours. The sleeping drug he’d given her wouldn’t have knocked her out for this length of time but he couldn’t hear her moving around on the floor above. Maybe there was enough in her system to keep her groggy and out of it. He reached the landing with his senses on high alert. Why did he have the feeling that someone else had been in the house? He put it down to anxiety for having left her alone so long.
He stepped into her bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, keeping out most of the afternoon sunlight and casting the room in a red glow. Antonia looked small under the covers, propped up on the pillows and holding something against her chest with her eyes closed. He moved closer.
“Antonia?” he said. He repeated her name a second time and her eyes opened. “What are you holding? Did you get out of bed?” He spoke in Romanian and she responded in the same language of their homeland.
“What have you done to yourself, Boris?”
“I fell shovelling snow. My wrist is sprained, but it is nothing serious. Was somebody in the house?”
“Nobody. I wanted to hold my family. I went to the bathroom and got the photo off the dresser when I came back to bed. That is all.”
He searched her face for evidence of a lie but she was half in shadow and he couldn’t be certain. Still … “Are you hungry? I could heat up the borscht from yesterday.”
“Yes. Can I come downstairs and eat in the kitchen?”
He thought about it but shook his head. “You must rest. I will bring it to you on a tray.”
“But your arm.”
“I can manage.”
He left before she could protest further. He still had no idea what he was going to do with her. It would be so easy to put her to sleep forever and put them both out of their misery. The thought was becoming more attractive with every passing hour, but for now, for this moment, he would heat up enough soup for both of them before going into the basement to put the finishing touches on his birdhouses.
chapter twenty-one
Kala waited around the station until five for Fisher Dumont’s parole officer, Dennis Wilburn, to return her call. She’d used the police line to make her inquiry seem official, knowing that Kingston Police would come up on the caller ID. Wilburn let her know that Fisher was still in Toronto and nothing had changed since she last phoned. He’d shown up at work on time all week. While she’d been waiting for the return call, Woodhouse had come and gone with Bennett in tow. Morrison and Bedouin were still working the phone lines with another officer, and Gundersund was meeting with Rouleau. This seemed like a good time to pack up and go home.
She phoned Dawn while she waited for the truck to warm up and the window to defrost. “Hey. Checking to see if you want me to pick up anything for supper. I’m on my way from the station.” She could hear people talking in the background. “Where are you?”
“On the bus. I’m almost home. I took some pork chops out of the freezer this morning.”
“Glad one of us was thinking ahead. I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”
She threw the phone onto the seat and put the truck into gear. That was odd. Dawn hadn’t mentioned going anywhere after school. It was likely nothing to worry about, especially since she knew Dumont was living in Toronto and answering to his parole officer. Her instincts told her to tell Dawn about her father so that she knew the dangers, but she’d promised Rose that she wouldn’t. She sincerely hoped this decision wouldn’t come back to haunt them all.
She arrived home as Dawn was returning from a quick run up the road with Taiku. Dawn smiled when she saw her and Kala started to relax. She wasn’t used to having the happiness of someone else impact her own and still found herself on edge whenever they both returned home at the end of the day. They went inside and warmed up with a pot of tea while Dawn made a salad and Kala fried the pork chops. She cut thick slices of brown bread instead of boiling potatoes, which would have taken an hour. They were both too hungry to wait.
“How’s school going?” she asked when they were well into the meal.
“Fine.”
“You stayed late today?”
“I’m helping another girl with math after school.”
“What’s her name?”
“Emily Morgan.”
“Is she nice?”
“I guess.” Dawn took a drink of milk. “We’re not friends if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Kala took a bite of salad to stop herself from probing. Dawn hadn’t made any friends at Frontenac High School since she’d started grade ten in the fall. She’d returned to spending evenings in her room doing homework and appeared to have no interest in outside activities. Dr. Lyman had said to try to get her involved in something that got her socializing, but so far, she’d resisted all attempts. Tutoring another student was a start at least.
“Do you know where the name Sioux comes from?” Dawn asked. Her eyes shone with interest as she waited for Kala to answer.
“Can’t say that I do.”
“It was the name that the French gave to the Dakota and comes from an Assiniboine word that means snake or enemy.”
“That explains why our people don’t like being called Sioux.”
“I found a book in the library. The Dakota fled out of the States in 1863 because the American army was slaughtering entire villages. Men, women, and children. Just because they were Dakota and trying to get back some of the lands that the Americans took from them. Canada was so weak militarily in the West that they let the Dakota stay even though the Americans tried to get permission to chase them across the border to kill them. They tried to live peacefully but the other Indian bands and the Métis weren’t happy to have them move in. The Ojibwa attacked a few of their settlements before finally leaving them alone.”
“Didn’t I tell you that we didn’t always get along? How many Dakota were in Canada back then?”
“Not many. Between one and two thousand and they were divided into three bands within the Dakota. They were good farmers and trappers but also worked for white settlers and the army. They had to be smart and resourceful to survive. I have more reading to do.”
“I’ll wait to hear what you find out.”
“If I get my homework done, I’ll read another chapter tonight.”
“We could take Taiku for a walk before bed if you like.”
“Not tonight. I have too much to do.”
Long after Dawn had gone upstairs and Kala had cleaned up the kitchen and made a pot of beef stew for the next night, she called for Taiku to go outside with her. He had lots of energy and they walked down Old Front Road in the direction of Gundersund’s house.
It was a beautiful evening: moonlight shining on the coniferous boughs laden with snow. The air was fresh and invigorating; stars punching through the black sky overhead. I should have made Dawn come with me, Kala thought. Taiku bounded ahead, disappearing into the woods every so often and returning with a face glistening with snow.
She didn’t set out to walk as far as Gundersund’s house but Taiku was far ahead of her and halfway up his driveway before she could call him back. Two dogs ran back toward her. Taiku had found Minnie, and walking behind them was Gundersund. He stopped a few feet away from her.
She bent and petted both dogs before they raced away into the darkness.
“Lovely night for a walk,” he said. “
Mind if we join you?”
“Looks like Minnie and Taiku have already decided you should. I was about to head back but Taiku got ahead of me.”
“I’ll join you for a bit, then.”
They walked in companionable silence. At the big bend in the road, Gundersund asked, “Are you making any headway with the Zoe Delgado file?”
“The killer wasn’t a stranger.”
“Based on …?”
“Her being murdered in the McKenna backyard.”
“I agree. Who do you think did it?”
“It could have been any of them. They’re covering for each other and have been from the get-go. Tristan is the most likely killer but the father who just died or his mother or siblings might have had a reason that we haven’t uncovered yet.”
“Anyone else?”
“The neighbours? Zoe’s father or brother? A boy she was involved with whom we haven’t identified? The list hasn’t been whittled down much.”
“If we assume the same person killed Vivian McKenna, it sure looks like the link is Tristan. Most often husbands are the ones who murder their pregnant partners.”
“Yes. However, we have no evidence that it was the same killer besides the fact that it seems obvious that it was.” She wanted to ask what he thought of Woodhouse’s approach but knew it wasn’t her place to question Rouleau’s decision to put him in charge of the field investigation. Instead she said, “I like Tanya Morrison. She’ll make a solid member of the team if she transfers permanently.”
“I think so too.”
They were nearing her driveway and she could hear the dogs nearby jumping through the snowbanks. “Thanks for walking me home.” She stopped and touched his arm. “You should come by again and see Dawn. She misses you.”
He looked toward the house. “Is she settling into school?”
“I don’t know. Her grades are back up but she hasn’t made any friends. I’m thinking of taking her on a long holiday this summer to give her a change of scene.”
“I’ll come by soon. Once this case is done with.”
“For supper?”
“Yeah.” He looked down at her. He was standing close enough that she could see the intense expression in his eyes. “I’ll miss you if you’re gone for the summer. I’ve gotten used to you being down the road.”
“We’ll be back.”
“My worry is that you won’t. Have you signed a contract with the Kingston force?”
“I’m transferred here temporarily but plan to stay a while.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d put in an offer to buy the house that she and Dawn were living in. Marjory, the owner and her friend from Birdtail rez had been postponing putting the property on the open market for a year until Kala made up her mind. She’d had trouble committing to land ownership and staying in Kingston because the open road had an equal if not stronger pull. It came down to what was best for Dawn in the end. She needed roots to feel safe.
He took off his glove and touched her cheek with warm fingertips. His thumb brushed her eyelid. “You have frost on your eyelashes,” he said. “Time to go in before you freeze completely.”
She stood very still, feeling him run his fingers across her face and push back a strand of her hair. He had the tender look in his eyes that he seldom let her see. They started moving closer when the dogs bounded up and ran a circle around them, barking and tumbling against their legs. Gundersund dropped his hand and took a step back. He grinned at her and called for Minnie to heel. She bent and caught hold of Taiku’s collar, not wanting Gundersund to see how flustered she was by his touch.
“Maybe they know something we don’t,” he said.
“Like jealous children.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.” He turned and walked away from her the way they’d come.
She listened to him whistling until she could no longer make out his retreating presence in the thickening shadows. She had an urge to call to him but bit back her words. He’s not free to be with you yet. The thought kept her in place but it was not enough to prevent a seed of hope from planting itself in her being. They were not done this dance of souls, she was sure of it. The time is not right but someday our stars will align.
She began whistling the same tune as Gundersund as she followed Taiku up the driveway toward the lights of home.
chapter twenty-two
Lauren sat at the bar nursing her sixth vodka and soda, this latest one bought for her by the man in the business suit three stools away. He was older than she liked but appeared fit when he removed his jacket. They’d already made eye contact and exchanged a mock toast from across the bar when her drink arrived. She felt her resistance slipping despite knowing better.
You swore off one-night stands, she reminded herself. Remember how gutted and sick you feel after they leave.
The emptiness that had become part of her waking hours was falling away with every drink. She no longer cared that she was the odd one out in her family. The daughter her mother never wanted. The one expected to be a fuck-up. Mindless sex would fill the void for an hour or two.
I’m getting too old for this shit.
She turned away from him and when she looked back, a heavily made-up redhead with a low-cut shirt had a hand on his arm, talking into his ear.
Decision made.
Lauren lifted her glass and looked to her left. She’d felt as if she was being watched for a while but thought it was the man in the suit. Another pair of eyes met hers and she squared back around to face the bartender.
What, do I have a sign that says hot and ready on my forehead?
“Clint have the night off?” she asked.
He came closer, wiping the counter in circular motions with a white cloth. “He’s in tomorrow. Four o’clock. Anything you want me to pass along?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“The regulars are arriving.” He waved the rag toward the door as a crowd of men surged in with a blast of cold air. “They play pickup hockey every Friday night through the winter and then hit the Duke. Need anything else before I get busy?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
The noise level went up several notches, drowning out Garth Brooks singing about friends in low places over the loudspeakers. Lauren took her time finishing her drink, not wanting another, but not wanting to leave the anonymous warmth of the bar. She sensed without looking the man standing next to her.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
“Good to know.”
The voice was familiar. She turned her head.
“You’re looking good, Lauren. Been a long time.”
Her heart jumped but she kept her voice level if slightly slurred. “I’m surprised you’re talking to me, Matt Delgado.”
“I’ve had time to think about things. Zoe wouldn’t have wanted me to freeze you out.”
She looked into the drink on the counter that she was gripping with both hands. “But that’s exactly what you did.”
“Mind if I sit for a minute?”
“It’s a free country.”
He got onto the stool next to her and set down his beer. “Sorry to hear about your dad.”
She kept facing straight ahead, working not to catch his eye in the mirror over the bar. “Thanks. My sister-in-law was murdered this week so we’re not exactly having the best of times.”
“I heard that. Horrible. How’re you coping?”
She lifted her glass. “Not well, obviously, but this is helping.”
“I’m sorry. You deserve better.”
“A better family, you mean? Or a better life? I wouldn’t mind one without people dying all around me.”
“As I recall, you’ve always had to shoulder a lot. How’s your mother?”
“Evelyn is … Evelyn is only sliding deeper into nastiness. But enough about my fun clan. What have you been up to since our last date fourteen years ago?”
“Nothing special. Got married. Lasted five years before we got divo
rced. She kept the house and the dog, which bothered me for a long time.” He took a drink of beer. “I loved that dog.”
“Did I know her? Your wife, I mean. Not the dog.”
“Candice Jorgenson. She was in your class.”
“Ah yes. Candice with the bouncy brown hair and cheerleader body.”
“She was that. Still is, but left me to live with another woman.”
“My turn to say I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” He signalled the bartender. “Would you like another?”
“I have to drive home eventually so a soda and lime would be great.”
He placed the order and then went to say goodbye to his fellow hockey players, who were getting up to leave. He came back after a trip to the washroom and brushed her arm as he sat down.
“I heard you moved to Toronto after high school.”
“I’m still there. I own a kitchen and bath design business that employs four. Doing okay, I guess.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re working with your dad?”
“I wanted to go to university but he needed me. Then I had that cheerleader wife to support.”
Lauren let him work his way slowly to the elephant in the room. Matt asked after a pause, “Are you still defending Tristan even though all the evidence points to him? His wife’s murder a few days ago shows a pattern.” His voice trembled with anger and pain that she understood and could not fault him for. She wondered if this was the real reason he’d approached her.
“I’ve always looked out for him and always will. I don’t believe he murdered Zoe or Vivian if that means anything to you.”
“He hides behind you.”
She turned and looked Matt square in the eyes. “I loved Zoe and wouldn’t protect her killer.”
“Even Tristan?”
“Even him if I knew for sure he’d killed her.”
They stared at each other as if trying to see what the years had done to their cores, the intimate part of each other that they’d known and liked. She felt the years drop away and returned his searching gaze with an openness she’d long ago stopped giving. He seemed to see the girl who’d tagged along behind him with his little sister because he smiled the wide teasing grin he’d kept for her.
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