Cold Mourning

by Brenda Chapman

  She shifted slightly. “I’m fine. Thanks for sending Bennett to drive me home from the hospital last night. Any word on the victim?”

  “She’s stable. A broken nose and cheek bone. Two broken ribs. The damage to one eye could be permanent.”

  “Damn,” Stonechild muttered under her breath.

  “Even though you were off duty, Vermette would like a full report. Are you feeling up to it?”

  She nodded. “I had a few hours of sleep and should be good until tonight.”

  “I meant your shoulder. Can you type?”

  “We’ll soon see.” She smiled for the first time.

  His instinct was to smile back but he refrained. “It was a fortunate coincidence that you were at the same place as the man who’d been assaulting women along that stretch of Richmond Road.” He waited while she collected how much she would tell him. The evasion in her eyes gave her away.

  “I might have misled you about my living conditions. I never actually found an apartment yet and have been staying just down the street at the YWCA. There were vacancies in the apartment building on Richmond Road and I decided to check out them out. I remembered the area from when we interviewed Glenda Martin after her assault.” She shrugged. “I heard a scream from the trees as I was walking back to my truck.” She met his eyes and didn’t look away this time.

  After a few seconds, he looked down. “Richard Kennedy says you busted his arm on purpose.”

  “He resisted arrest. I had to control him quickly and get back to the victim.”

  Rouleau nodded. “You’ll need to be clear in your report.”

  “I will. What have they found out about him?”

  “Richard Kennedy’s wife left him last year for his best friend. The two worked construction. They were framers for Chalmers Housing. After his wife walked out, Kennedy upped his coke habit and dreamed about getting even. He was practising taking out his anger on middle-aged women. You were right, by the way. He lives closer to the river but in the same general area.”

  “His rage probably didn’t start after his wife left him. Will he press charges, you know, about the arm?”

  “Won’t matter if he does. As you say, he resisted arrest. The photos of your injuries confirm this.”

  She nodded, her eyes relieved. “Did he give a reason for beating this particular woman?”

  “He said this morning that he hadn’t planned to hurt her but she reminded him of his ex-wife.”

  “So he’s admitted to all the assaults?”

  “No, but we’ve got Glenda Martin coming in to see if she can pick him out of a photo array.”

  “Good.”

  “You can take the rest of the day off after you finish your report. Vermette’s thrilled, by the way. You might have breathed life into this unit.”

  “Thank you, Sir, but I’m going to visit Susan Halliday before I go home.”

  “Take Bennett.”

  “I will.”

  She was nearly at the door when he said, “I don’t want you doing this again.”

  “Sir?” She turned and was about to say something but stopped after reading something in his face.

  “I know we understand each other,” Rouleau said. Her eyes were bottomless black flint, and for the briefest of moments, defiant. He stared her down until she slowly dropped her head in a nod. He softened his voice. “You could have been seriously hurt. If you do something like this again, I will have to let you go. I can’t have you out there putting yourself in danger. I’m responsible for you and everyone in this unit.”

  She kept her head lowered so that he couldn’t see her eyes. “Yes, Sir. It won’t happen again.” She turned away from him again and opened the door.

  “Thank you, Stonechild,” he said. “For stopping him. You saved that woman’s life. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  She paused with her back to him and nodded, but she said nothing. He watched her cross the room and sit down at her desk chair. She leaned down to turn on her computer. For the first time, he thought he might have made a mistake in hiring her.

  He looked across at his navy suit in the drycleaner bag hanging on the wall hook behind his door. He’d had it cleaned and pressed down the street for Frances’s New Year’s Eve wedding. Just a day away. One day before his wife became somebody else’s. What kind of gift did you buy for this occasion? Did they make cards to mark ex wives’ remarriages? Probably. They made them for everything else.

  “So how does it feel to be a hero?” Bennett caught up to her at the main entrance. “You’ve become a legend in the department your first week here.”

  “Watch and learn, little grasshopper,” Kala said, holding the door for him with her good arm. “Watch and learn.” She grinned at him. “Just the right place at the right time, that’s all.”

  “I think it was more than that. You took the guy down. Impressive. How’s your shoulder?”

  “Nothing major. He managed to crack it but I’m a fast healer.”

  “He’s not so lucky. You taught him what for.”

  “Thanks.” She liked that he’d forgotten the old boys’ club for the moment. Maybe she was teaching him something after all. She followed him outside.

  Bennett zipped up his jacket. “Where to now, boss?”

  “We’ve got to figure out what’s going on with Susan Halliday. First we’ll drive up to the spot she got into car trouble in the Gatineau Hills. Do some old-fashioned detective work. Then we’ll go talk to her and her husband Clinton. Somehow, we’ll have to get her alone and I’ll need your help with that.”

  “Right. Aren’t you tired after last night?”

  “I’m getting my second wind.” The key was to keep moving. If she stopped for long, the exhaustion would catch up. She reached into the inside pocket of her parka. “I printed the map and marked the spot where she parked to go skiing.”

  He took it from her. “I know the place. I bike up there in the summer.”

  “Good. You can drive then.”

  Bennett headed north through downtown and crossed the Portage Bridge at the end of Wellington Street into Quebec. He followed Chemin d’Aylmer for a few kilometres before turning right onto the Gatineau Parkway. The road wound steadily skyward into the wooded hills blanketed in glistening snow under the crystal blue sky. Kala felt the tightness in her chest ease. Even the pain in her shoulder was lessening as they progressed into the wilderness.

  “It’s been a few days since her accident. What do you expect to find?”

  “Don’t know. I just want to get a feel for how it happened.”

  “Fair enough.” He fished around in his pocket and pulled out aviator sunglasses. “Shit, that sun is bright. This must take you back home, being out here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “You could say that.”

  He glanced in her direction and she saw her face reflected back in his glasses. “So did you leave any family or boyfriends behind?”

  She stared at his profile. “Just the usual.”

  “Must be nice. I’d give anything to get a break from my family, not to mention my ex who still thinks we’re going to get back together. Some women just won’t take no.”

  “Why don’t you ask for a transfer?” She was genuinely curious why he would stay in Ottawa if he wanted to leave so badly.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never lived anywhere else. Sounds like you’ve moved around a bit.”

  She squinted out the side window. The light felt like pinpricks in her eyes. They were passing a sign that said Pinks Lake. The turn off wasn’t far. Just a few more minutes and she could focus on something besides the uncomfortable turn this conversation had taken. She had no intention of thinking about her past just now, let alone share it with Bennett.

  They reached the empty parking lot. Bennett pulled into a spot near the entrance and they both got out. Kala looked around, then crossed the lot with Bennett following behind her. She crouched down, looking for tire marks. She
was disappointed but not surprised that any evidence was long gone.

  “Do you see something?” Bennett squatted down in the snow next to her.

  “Susan Halliday told me she parked here at the north end and another vehicle parked next to her while she was skiing. She never saw the driver.”

  Kala looked around the flat expanse of open space. It was bordered by a wooden fence of rough logs tied horizontally that held back the thick woods. A packed cross-country ski trail snaked into the trees from an opening in the fence. Looking up, the blue sky was a dome hinged by the tops of conifer trees on all sides. Heavy, grey clouds had begun gathering over the western perimeter and she sensed more snow coming, likely by nightfall. She thought again of how the weather changed quickly in the Ottawa Valley, not like in the North where storms took their time coming and going. She tried to imagine Susan out here alone with evening falling.

  “There’s nothing left to see from her visit. The lot was plowed since she was here.” Kala stood and looked toward the woods. “Why would someone park right next to her when the lot was empty? Why would they even be up here if they weren’t going skiing?”

  “Do you think she was followed?”

  “Maybe. Someone could have taken the opportunity to strand her out here. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would drive into the Gatineau Hills and not notice she was out of gas. She said that she’s been forgetful, but how many people really let the tank get that low? It’s something you check automatically. Especially if you’re the only driver. You gauge how much time between fill ups.” Kala looked back at the entrance to the parking area. “You’d have to know this spot was here or have followed her. Maybe somebody was waiting outside her house. Why would they do that is the question. Why would somebody set out to hurt her?”

  “It’s easy enough to siphon gas if you have the time. Somebody would have had the privacy to do it unseen up here in the middle of nowhere.”

  Kala took another look around. “It’s a peaceful place but there’s something ominous about it too. The spirits aren’t all happy here.”

  Bennett looked at her oddly. “There was a rape just over there by the path a few summers ago. It made a lot of people scared to use the bike paths.”

  “Did they catch him?”

  “No.”

  Kala suddenly couldn’t wait to get away from this isolated place. “You ready to leave?”

  Bennett pulled the keys out his pocket. He took a final look around. “Yeah. Looks like we’re not going to learn anything here unless one of those spirits decides to start talking.”

  28

  Friday, December 30, 2:40 p.m.

  This time, Susan Halliday was the one who answered the door. She’d made an attempt to fix her hair and had applied make up that gave an artificial rosiness to her cheeks and lips. A bright red mohair sweater hung loosely on her thin frame, topping tight black pants. Kala was impressed with Susan’s natural grace although she doubted Susan was aware of her beauty. Women approaching sixty were made to feel unattractive because of their lined faces and aging skin. There was an apologetic air about Susan as if she was afraid of offending by her very presence. However, it wasn’t enough to extinguish the inner light when her tawny eyes found Kala’s. A self-effacing smile spread across Susan’s face.

  “I know why you’ve come, but I’m fine. I’m embarrassed for causing so much trouble. Clinton has made me promise not to go anywhere again unless I first check the gas level.”

  “Speaking of your husband, is he home?” asked Kala.

  “No, he’s gone to get his hair cut and to pick up a few things for supper. I expect him back in a few hours.”

  Kala glanced at Bennett and he nodded.

  “I’ll just go make those calls if you don’t mind me in your kitchen. That way I won’t disturb you,” said Bennett.

  “Of course,” said Susan. “Help yourself to tea. I just made a pot and it’s on the stove.” She looked at Kala. “Would you like some?”

  “Tea would be lovely.”

  A few minutes later, they were sitting across from each other with mugs of tea in hand as if they were girlfriends having a chat. Susan tucked her feet under her.

  “So you’re feeling better?” Kala asked.

  “Yes. My hands and feet are fine. I wasn’t in the woods long enough for any lasting damage. I was very lucky that ranger came along when he did.”

  “Have you recalled any details of that afternoon?”

  Susan shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you find the credit card receipt for your last gas purchase?”

  “I was mistaken. I paid cash the last time I bought gas.”

  “Do you normally pay cash?”

  “Not as a rule, but I’m very sloppy about my record-keeping I’m afraid. I remembered after leaving the hospital that I paid cash because I’d forgotten my credit card at home. I just got careless about keeping track. I was driving more than usual, getting ready for Christmas, and then I became distracted with Tom Underwood’s death.”

  “Any receipt of the cash payment?”

  “No. I must have tossed it.” She laughed lightly. “You must wonder how I’ve managed to survive this long.”

  “On the contrary. Has Clinton shared with you where he was that day that you went into the Gatineau Hills?”

  “He left the base in Trenton mid-morning and was on his way home. He wanted to surprise me.”

  “We checked and he left close to seven thirty. It’s a four hour drive so he would have been home before noon. You told us that you set out for the park after one o’clock.”

  Susan took a sip of tea. Her hand shook slightly when she lowered the mug but her voice was firm. “He stopped for breakfast in Gananoque. He told me that service was slow because a tour bus arrived just before he ordered. Really, officer, I know what you’re getting at, but you are completely mistaken.”

  “Mrs. Halliday, I need to ask, how are things between you and your husband? Has he ever been violent with you?”

  Susan forcefully shook her head. “He would never have done this to me. Never. I was just careless.”

  “If not your husband, perhaps you know of someone else? They may be the person who murdered Tom Underwood.”

  “I don’t know of anyone. Tom had to have been killed by a stranger or someone from his work life. I don’t know which would be worse.” She drew her fist up to her mouth and closed her eyes.

  Kala studied her. Should she continue to push? Susan was shielding someone and her money was on Clinton. She reached into her pocket. “I’m going to give you my cellphone number. You can call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come. If you feel like talking, I’m a good listener. I want to help you.”

  Susan opened her eyes. They were filled with pain but also resolve. “Thank you, officer, but I’m certain I’ll be fine.” She took the card and tucked it into her pocket. “Now, if that is all, I would like to rest. It’s been a long, tiring week.”

  “Of course. Please contact me if you remember anything else. I’m just a phone call away.”

  Kala left Bennett at the station and trudged through the snow to the Y. She was ready to spend the rest of the day sleeping. Her legs and arms felt weighted down with cement. Fatigue had settled into her brain like cotton batting. Her cell vibrated inside her pocket just as she pressed the elevator button in the lobby. She got the phone to her ear before the caller hung up. She hadn’t recognized the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Kala Stonechild?”

  “Yes. Who’s calling?”

  “It’s Maya from the mission. How are you doing, child?”

  Kala smiled. “Good. I’m good.” The tiredness lifted for the moment. “You have news?”

  “I saw that young girl, Dawn, last night. She came in with another woman, not your cousin, but the homeless woman the police are looking for. Anyhow, I called the other officer who asked me to keep an eye out for her but the girls had both gone be
fore the police arrived. I would have called you sooner, but I’d misplaced your card.”

  “What’s the name of the homeless woman?”

  “Annie Littlewolf. She’s five foot nothing, about forty years old. An Ojibway from out west. I hadn’t seen her around since her friend was found dead in that alley. Poor soul.”

  “Did the little girl, Dawn, did she look okay? She wasn’t with this woman against her will?”

  “As far as I could tell, they were friendly with each other. They got some food and disappeared before I could get to them.”

  “And they haven’t been back?”

  “No, but now that I’ve found your card, I’ll call you right away the next time I see either of them.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Maya.”

  “No problem, child. You take care.”

  “You too … and thanks.”

  Kala rode the elevator to her floor. She unlocked the door to her room and stepped inside. The air was stale and dry. She crossed to the window before she remembered that it was sealed shut. She was going to have to hope that the heat shut off soon since she also didn’t have a thermostat control in her room. She dropped her clothes on the floor and climbed naked under the sheets. The throbbing in her shoulder reminded her that she needed to take another painkiller. She sighed and got up again to rummage through her bag. It was an effort to walk back to her bed and lower herself onto the mattress. She had a voicemail message from Shannon that she’d meant to return before going to sleep, but it wasn’t going to happen. Whatever Shannon wanted to tell her would keep until morning. Kala stretched her aching legs and rolled onto her side, careful to protect her bandaged shoulder. Ten seconds later, she was sound asleep. She didn’t stir until dawn.

  Benny sat on Max’s desk, one leg crossed over the other at the knee, a burning cigarette in his hand. Max leaned back in his desk chair, his head at crotch level but his eyes on Benny’s face. Benny’s blue eyes reminded him of sparkling aquamarine stones. They were his best feature by far. Max absentmindedly reached over and rubbed his fingers lightly along the crease in Benny’s pant leg.