Vermette thrust the phone back into its cradle. He scowled first at the phone and then at Rouleau. “Fuckin board member. Think they know everything. Brains so far up their arses, you have to dig with a shovel to get a coherent thought.” He ran a hand across his forehead, wiping away tiny beads of sweat. “So, where are you with the Tom Underwood business?”
“We met with his wife yesterday. She gave us a photo that Kala passed on to Missing Persons like you asked.”
“I know, but now I want a couple of your team on this one full time.”
“Any particular reason?” Rouleau studied Vermette’s face. A purplish vein pulsated like a turn signal in his right temple.
“Underwood’s got business contacts. Somebody with strings to pull is putting pressure on us to find him.”
“We don’t know that anything has happened to him. It’s been just twenty-four hours since he didn’t show up at work. I admit it looks less good as time passes, but …”
“Until the man is back in the bosom of his loving family,” Vermette interrupted, “finding him has just become your number one priority. Do good work on this one and your unit could get some recognition. It’ll please the board if their inane pet project succeeds at something.”
“Underwood’s company website says they make military equipment, amongst other things. They have contracts with National Defence and some overseas.”
“We don’t need to start dreaming up some lame-brained government conspiracy. Just start tracking down his movements and talk to his family and coworkers. If he really is missing … well, we’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
Uncertainty had entered Vermette’s voice and it made Rouleau curious. Vermette had argued strenuously against the special unit, saying it would dilute investigations of Major Crimes if his officers were torn in too many directions.
Rouleau stood. “I’ll get on it then.”
He was half-way to the door when Vermette said, “How’s that Native woman working out? Stonechild, is it?”
“Kala Stonechild. Should be fine. She’s a quick study.”
“I hear she’s easy on the eyes. See she gets some media training. We may as well make use of her appearance.”
“I’ll ask Kala if she wants to be a media spokes.”
“She doesn’t need to be asked. Either she does as she’s told or we send her back to the reserve where she can spend her days locking up drunk relatives.”
Rouleau took a step toward him. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Vermette tilted his head and met Rouleau’s narrowed eyes before his slid away. He smiled, “Just kidding.”
Rouleau thought about telling Vermette what he thought about him before walking out the door and into early retirement. He’d leave this crap behind and sell the house and go somewhere warm. Australia was a place he’d always wanted to visit. He could stay a year and see if it suited him. Find a little house with wide windows that looked out on the sea and let the seasons slip by. Learn to appreciate Australian beer and grow a beard.
His feet moved toward the door without conscious effort. His hand encircled the brass doorknob and he pulled the door open and stepped through. Screw Vermette. He’d go when he was ready, at a moment of his own choosing. When the time was right.
Whelan watched his new partner Stonechild step into the office as if she was walking into a crime scene. She’d stopped just inside the doorway and checked to her left and right, her black eyes sweeping the entire room before she seemed satisfied and started toward their desks. He could picture her walking through the woods, silent, sure-footed, and alert. Something in her eyes made him wonder what she’d seen in her life that brought her here. Haunted. He didn’t know why that word popped into his mind. He wasn’t a fanciful man, preferring a night of football and the sports section of the paper, but there was something about her.
She sat down in the chair facing him and stretched out her long legs. She was wearing Cougar winter boots, black cords, a black sweater and grey jacket. Green-stoned earrings sparkled from her ears, the only bit of colour. “Sorry I’m late. I had trouble falling asleep.”
He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes isn’t a major crime. Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. “No time.”
“There’s a cafeteria upstairs. Let’s go.”
“You sure?”
“Rouleau’s in a meeting so we have half an hour I figure. May as well make use of it.”
“You don’t have to ask twice. My stomach’s been grumbling like a grizzly bear since I got up.”
“Then let’s go feed the beast.”
They got coffee and the breakfast special — scrambled eggs with sausage, hash browns, and whole wheat toast. Whelan spotted Malik and Grayson near the back wall and turned, motioning for Kala to follow him. She hesitated but then nodded. The two men had had their heads together and were laughing until their eyes moved past Whelan to Kala. Malik saluted her before looking away. Grayson focused on his cup of coffee, raising it to his lips and draining the last.
“Shit, snow’s started again,” said Grayson, his eyes swerving toward the line of windows. “Should have bought a snowblower.”
“Three days till Christmas. Looks like it’ll be a white one.” Malik smiled at Kala. “So how was your first day?”
“Good.”
“You’ve arrived in time for our annual Christmas party. Did you tell her about it Whelan?”
Whelan hit a palm to his forehead. “Is that tonight?”
“Yeah, it’s tonight.” Malik looked back at Kala. “The whole force should be there, or at least those off shift. Dinner and drinks in the San Marco Hall on Preston Street. Gets underway around seven.”
Whelan groaned. “I promised Meghan I’d watch the kids while she goes for a haircut. I’m going to have to show up late.”
“Tell her to change her appointment,” said Grayson.
“Not if I want to sleep in my own bed tonight. She’s been talking about this all week. I’ll have to give you directions, Kala. It’s just outside downtown.”
“West end, right?” asked Kala.
“I can drive you,” said Grayson looking across at her for the first time. “Where’re you staying?”
Kala glanced up at him. “I can make it on my own steam. I’ve got to figure the city out sooner or later.”
“Well, if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.”
The silence stretched awkwardly. Whelan smiled to himself. Rejection looked good on Grayson, who prided himself on his female conquests. Whelan reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone that was vibrating against his chest. He glanced at the screen. “Rouleau’s looking for us. I’ll just send him a message to meet us here.”
“Wonder how it went with the big F.U.,” said Malik. “The Chief’s nickname,” he explained in answer to Kala’s questioning stare. “When you hear Vermette talk, you’ll understand why.”
“Rouleau handles him okay,” said Whelan. “Don’t envy him that job.”
“That’s because no matter how hard the big F.U. pushes Rouleau, he doesn’t react. If it were me, I’d probably be up on aggravated assault charges by now.” Grayson stood. “Anyone want a refill while I’m up?”
Sandeep handed over his cup. “With cream, thanks.”
Whelan watched Grayson cross the room and spotted Rouleau. He’d entered while they were talking and was ordering food from the woman behind the counter. He might have believed Grayson’s bravado about Vermette if he hadn’t seen them all chummy in the bar recently.
Sandeep turned back to Kala. “I imagine you didn’t have to deal with the chain of command where you came from.”
“We still had to report up.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Wanted more experience in a different unit. I heard about this opening and the timing was right.”
Whelan nodded. “My partner followed his wife to Germany. She’s got some high tech job.”
<
br /> Sandeep looked at Kala again. “Many murders up north?”
Kala smiled. “We had a murder once. Fellow killed his best friend in a hunting accident. Turned out the best friend was sleeping with this guy’s wife and he wasn’t too pleased. Other than that, we’ve got the usual drunk driving, B and E’s, people lost in the woods. Bears chasing people up trees.”
“You’re joking.”
“Yeah, bears can climb trees faster than most people so you’d have to be an idiot to think climbing a tree was going to save your hide. Maybe you should try a northern placement.”
“Not sure my wife would take to living in the wilds. She might be a match for the bears though.”
Whelan hoisted a forkful of egg into his mouth, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Probably for the moose, too.”
Rouleau slid into the seat next to Kala and took a bite of his fried egg sandwich. Grayson set down the coffee mugs and sat across from her. Rouleau drank from his coffee cup then looked around the table.
“So, today Whelan and Stonechild are going to find Tom Underwood. His welfare has become your raison d’être.”
“Ahead of finding who killed buddy homeless man?” asked Sandeep.
“Ahead of every case we’ve got on the go.”
“Since Underwood hasn’t been missing more than a day, I can only assume Vermette’s lost it completely,” said Grayson.
Rouleau grinned. “Not ours to question why my young friends.” He looked at Whelan and Stonechild. “Check in as you go. Keep good notes because this case seems important to Vermette. Let’s see if you can bring Tom Underwood home where he belongs in time for Christmas.”
6
Thursday, December 22, 10:30 a.m.
Kala rang the bell for the second time on the front door of the detached brick house and listened to it chime inside the house. They were deep in the new subdivision named Chapman Mills on Haileybury Street. The homes were so close together, people had to walk single file to get between them. It was hard to believe anyone liked living in a place where they couldn’t see the stars at night.
While she waited, she mapped out the area in her mind. Prince of Wales Drive, a major thoroughfare, separated Pauline Underwood’s Chapman Mills subdivision from the Rideau River and the wealthier homes where Pauline’s ex Tom and his new wife Laurel lived on Winding Way. It was about a ten minute drive between the two subdivisions. She glanced toward the street. No car parked in the driveway, so it was either in the attached garage that took up half of the house’s frontage or Pauline was away.
Through the thickness of the door, she heard footsteps coming down the hallway toward her. Kala motioned for Whelan to join her on the steps. Whelan snapped his cellphone shut and just made it to the top step as the door swung open. His eyes were worried.
“Everything okay?” Kala asked over her shoulder.
“Baby has cold and now a fever. Meghan’s going to take him to the doctor if it goes any higher.”
The door swung half-way open. A tall woman with white hair to her shoulders looked out, one hand resting on the door frame. Her brown eyes peered at them over half-moon glasses. She wore designer blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt sprinkled in red paint splatter.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Whelan held up his badge. “We’re from the Ottawa Police and would just like to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of your ex-husband.”
The former Mrs. Underwood raised a hand to her chest. “Thank God. He’s still just missing.… I thought you were going to tell me something horrible. Come in. Come in, please.” She swung the door open and stepped down the hallway. “We can sit in the kitchen if you don’t mind. The living room is in a state.”
Kala glanced into the living room on the way by. Drop cloths covered the furniture. The smell of fresh paint was strong. The fireplace wall was cranberry red and the rest of the walls were beige.
The hallway was lined with framed photographs of flowers, leading into a large, sunny kitchen with glass doors along one wall and a pine table directly in front. The oak cupboards and stainless steel appliances looked new. Several watercolour paintings filled one wall. Lake scenes and flowers. They gave the room a homey feel.
“Coffee?” asked Pauline Underwood, already crossing the space to the coffee maker. “I just put on a pot. I’m not sure why I made so much.” Her voice trailed away.
Kala met Whelan’s eyes. “Sure, that would be nice. Thank you,” she said.
They took seats at the table, Whelan at one end and Kala facing the window. The backyard was small and half filled by a raised cedar deck. Birdfeeders hung from the only tree. Pauline carried over a tray with mugs of coffee, cream, and sugar in a matching blue pottery pattern. She slid into a seat across from Kala.
“I know Tom’s missing. Our daughter Geraldine called me yesterday to find out if I’d heard from him. Laurel called earlier as well. We don’t talk on the phone as a rule.”
As agreed before they got out of the police car, Kala took the lead. “When was the last time you saw Tom?”
“Oh my, let me think. I’d have to say a month ago. I cooked a birthday dinner for Geraldine, and Tom came by for cake. Laurel had a headache and stayed home.” Pauline’s eyes met Kala’s before she looked down. The dark smudging under her eyes spoke of unquiet nights.
“How did Tom seem? Was he upset about anything?”
“Tom wasn’t a man who showed emotion. The stock market could have crashed and burned and he wouldn’t have let on anything was wrong.”
“Did he talk about any problems at work or in his life?”
“Well, he worked too much and business was stressful. His diet was terrible after our divorce. I’m not sure Laurel knew how to cook.” Pauline lifted her mug and held it in front of the tight line of her mouth.
“It couldn’t have been easy for you.” Kala watched Pauline’s eyes.
Pauline slowly lowered the cup. “No, but our marriage ended ten years ago when Tom hit the mid-life crisis. I’ve long forgiven him. We’re friends again, although I’m not particularly fond of Laurel.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you can understand.”
“Do you have any idea where Tom might have gone?”
“No. I’m not privy to his comings and goings. If he and Laurel were having trouble, he might be somewhere clearing his head. When we were married, he was gone a week before he got in touch with me to tell me that he was leaving.”
“You must have been frantic.”
“No. I knew he was having an affair. I was hoping … well, that he’d get her out of his system and come home. I thought he just needed some time. I knew it would devastate Geraldine and Hunter if we separated. Unfortunately, Hunter still doesn’t have a good relationship with his father.”
“It seems like a long time not to get over a parents’ divorce.”
“They’re both strong-willed men.”
Kala took a drink of coffee and signalled Whelan with her eyes.
He handed Pauline a card. “Call any time and leave a message if you think of anything. One of us will be back to you as soon as we can.”
“Thank you, I will.”
They stood. “Nice paintings,” commented Whelan, moving toward them. “Is that your signature at the bottom?”
“Why, yes. I dabble and also teach at two youth centres twice a week. It’s something to do.”
“You should sell some. They’re very good.”
“I mostly give them to family and friends. I’ve sold a few.”
They started down the hallway to the front door just as the doorbell rang.
“It’s probably my friend Susan Halliday, who’s come for our morning walk.” Pauline stepped past them and opened the door.
The woman standing on the top step was about the same age as Pauline but her hair was a chestnut brown and pulled back into a pony tail, making her seem younger than a woman approaching sixty. Both women were in good shape and wore their clothes well. Susan Halliday had on a re
d ski jacket, black gortex pants, and runners. Her smile disappeared when she saw Pauline’s visitors.
“I didn’t realize. If you’d rather run later, I can come back,” She turned and started down the steps.
“We were just leaving,” said Whelan. “No need to go on our account.” He passed her on the stairs, doing up his jacket as he went.
“Come in, Susan,” Pauline called over Kala’s head. “I’ll just be a few secs.”
Susan hesitated and waved toward her Mazda. “I’ll just get my water bottle and will be right back.”
Kala looked back at Pauline. “Thank you for your time.”
Pauline blinked as if being pulled back from somewhere far away. The tight line of her mouth relaxed and a hand came up to brush back the hair from her forehead. “I hope you find Tom soon,” she said as she started to close the door. “Christmas is when a family should be together.”
Whelan started the car as Kala climbed in the passenger side. He leaned forward and scraped at some frost from the inside front window while they waited for the engine to warm up. “What did you think of Tom’s ex?” he asked.
“I know why Laurel avoids family get-togethers with the clan. I’d have a headache too.”
“What you find out about families. Makes me satisfied with my own lot.”
“Where to next?”
“We can swing east swing and talk to the son before we head downtown to Underwood’s office.”
“Works,” said Kala. She checked her notepad. “Looks like a bit of a drive. Hunter lives just off Highway 417 near Carlsbad Springs.”
“A country boy. Should take forty-five minutes or so to get there.”
Cold Mourning Page 6
