“I’ve been working on a school project with a girl named Meghan in my class. She’s invited me to her home after school tomorrow to finish it. She asked if I could stay for supper.” Dalal folded her hands in her lap and lowered her head in the sign of submission that her parents liked to see.
“Where does this girl live?” her mother asked.
“A few blocks from the school. Her mother and father will be home tomorrow evening. She has assured me.”
“What do you think, Burhan?” Her mother looked across the table at her father.
He didn’t speak and Dalal stole a glance to gauge his reaction. He seemed deep in thought. She lowered her head again and waited.
“Dalal has been working hard and she is an obedient girl. I think we can let her finish this project with her schoolmate. Will it be too much of a burden for you to prepare the meal with Meeza?” he asked her mother. His voice brooked no dissension and Dalal dared to hope.
“I can prepare the meal,” said her mother with a loud sigh. “If you think it is proper for Dalal to eat at this girl’s house, I will gladly do the work at home.”
“I do not see any harm,” her father said.
Ghazi remained silent. Dalal couldn’t believe her good fortune. She would get to spend an evening with Joe away from the suspicious eyes of her family.
She was nearly done her English homework when Ghazi walked into her room without knocking. He sat on the edge of her bed and waited for her to turn around. He tossed a foam football from one hand to the other. When he looked at her, Dalal felt a shiver travel up her spine but she kept her eyes steady on his.
“What do you want, Ghazi?”
“How come you never mentioned this girl Meghan before?”
“She’s just a girl the teacher put me with to do a project. She seems okay.”
“What is the project about?”
Dalal had expected this question and she was ready. “We had to pick an early American author and analyze their work.”
“Really? And who are you analyzing?”
“Benjamin Franklin. He wrote the Poor Richard’s Almanack from 1732 to 1758. It had a print run of ten thousand copies per year, which was very impressive for back then.”
Ghazi shook his head and tossed the football into the air. He caught it with his left hand and leaned back against the pillows on her bed. “Fascinating,” he mocked.
“I think so.” She kept typing even though she’d already finished putting down all she had to say. What was he waiting for? The bed springs creaked and he shifted closer. She froze when she felt his fingers on the back of her neck. His breathing had gotten heavier, the opposite of hers, which had stopped altogether.
“Have any boys tried to touch you?” he asked harshly. “Like this?” His fingers moved around to the front of her neck and down the space between her breasts. She felt the heat of his fingers through her blouse. She shook her head hard from side to side.
“Have they ever tried to touch you here?” he whispered into her ear. His hand had moved to cover her right breast and his thumb rubbed against her nipple.
“Stop it, Ghazi.” She batted at his hand, but he resisted and squeezed her nipple until she squealed.
“Stop it, Ghazi,” he mimicked. His other hand had snaked under her shirt and was moving up her skin toward her other breast. He’d pinned her against his chest and his breath was hot and shallow in her ear.
“I’ll scream,” she said.
“You’ll regret it,” he said. “I’ll make sure.”
She stayed as still as she could while he massaged both breasts up and down in circular motions. Hot tears welled up behind her eyelids.
“Do you have the diary?” he asked. His breath was hot on the side of her face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.”
“You know where she …” he began, but a voice at the door to the room made him stop.
“Can I play?”
Dalal felt Ghazi’s hands drop from her chest as she looked toward Meeza framed in the doorway, holding her teddy bear, Boo. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were rimmed in red as if she’d been crying. Dalal stood and moved away from Ghazi.
“Come in Meeza,” she said. “Ghazi is just leaving.”
His eyes were angry bees staring into hers. Dalal glared back, trying to hold her ground, all the while fear beating like butterfly wings inside her.
“This isn’t over,” he said so quietly that Meeza could not possibly overhear. His hand pinched through the fabric covering Dalal’s ribs and he gave a sharp twist before he pushed his way past Meeza and out of the room. Dalal waited until he’d slammed the door to his bedroom and the music from his stereo was once again beating through the wall before she crossed to her bed and lowered herself onto the edge, one hand clutching the place where he’d hurt her.
Meeza ran the short distance between them and flung herself into Dalal’s arms. Dalal patted her head and wondered how much Meeza had seen. Her little sister was more intuitive than most, even with her limited mental capacities, and Dalal guessed this was the case now. Meeza sensed the danger lurking in their family even if she didn’t understand it. It was up to Dalal to protect her … to protect them both.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gundersund waited for Stonechild in the hallway near the nurses’ station. He checked his messages and saw one from Rouleau. He read it and speed dialed Rouleau’s number. They finished talking just as Stonechild approached from the direction of Gail Pankhurst’s room. Her face was grim.
“May as well go,” she said. “Gail’s been put into a medically induced coma. They’re waiting for the brain swelling to go down and hope there isn’t any lasting damage. We won’t be able to talk to her today or maybe not all week. Maybe not ever if she doesn’t pull through this.”
Gundersund fell into step beside her. “Have her parents showed up?”
“Apparently not.”
She’d expressed a lot in two clipped words. He had a good idea what she thought of parents who wouldn’t make the trip to a severely injured child’s hospital bedside. He pressed the elevator button. “Rouleau just told me that the same brand of rope used on Gail was used to tie up Leah Sampson. Forensics said it’s an exact match. No prints.”
“Had to be the same sick bastard.”
“We just need to figure out what they were after.”
They didn’t speak on the elevator. Stonechild was wedged in between a patient in a wheelchair and the back wall. Gundersund exited first and stood off to one side to wait for her while the others filed out. He and Stonechild began walking toward the front doors.
Gundersund resumed the conversation. “Rouleau said to carry on with the interviews. He’s on his way to Toronto for the afternoon.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. Just that he’s checking something out.”
“So who do we start with first today?”
“I think Wolf Edwards could do with another visit.”
“I agree. Jucinda Rivera is working today and I’d like to speak with her after we’re done with Wolf.”
“Looks like a full morning.”
“Looks like.”
They found Wolf still in his pajamas, frying two eggs in a skillet. His black hair was curled in matted chaos around his head, his eyes bleary from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. He had them sit at the crowded kitchen table while he scraped the eggs onto a plate and turned off the burner. He poured three cups of coffee without asking and slid two in front of Gundersund and Stonechild. Then he sat down and pushed the runny egg yolks around his plate with a fork while he supported his chin with his free hand.
“You don’t seem too concerned about Gail Pankhurst,” commented Gundersund. Wolf had told them he’d already heard about her assault when he answered the door.
“Not much I can do,” Wolf said. “Luckily, this blinding headache is keeping me from thinking too deeply about anything.”
Wolf put down his fork and closed his eyes. “Thanks for bringing up what I was trying not to think about. If I’d been at the help line like I was supposed to, I could have stopped Gail from being assaulted. After I got the call last night about the break in, I redoubled my Scotch intake.”
“You were out drinking instead of going into work?” Stonechild asked.
“Yeah. I needed to stop thinking about the guilt I feel over Leah and alcohol seemed like the only way to shut off my mind. Now I have someone else to feel guilty about.”
“And why do you feel guilty about Leah?” Gundersund asked.
“Because I walked her home that night and left her to some crazy killer. I keep thinking I could have saved her if only I’d walked her to her apartment door instead of stopping at the corner, or, I don’t know, believed her when she told me to trust her.”
“She told you that?”
“I thought she was covering up about an affair. Jucinda told me she’d seen Leah having sex in a car and with all the disappearing and secrecy on Leah’s part, well, it all seemed to add up. I was sure she was having an affair and the guy was married.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m not sure.” He groaned. “I’m supposed to be able to read people and figure out when they’re bullshitting or telling the truth. With Leah, I let the green-eyed monster take over. I forgot to be objective.”
“Jealousy can make you do things you regret,” commented Stonechild.
Wolf looked at her, realization dawning in his eyes. “I didn’t hurt her. I would never hurt her. My regret is that I didn’t trust her.”
“Can someone vouch for you in the bar the night of Gail’s attack?” asked Gundersund.
“Maybe. I didn’t stay too long in any one place. I came home at one point and drank some more before I passed out.”
“Run it past me,” Gundersund said, his notebook ready.
Stonechild waited while Wolf gave Gundersund a rough roadmap of his bar-hopping route. When they finished, she asked, “Now that you’ve had a few more days to think about it, Wolf, do you have any idea of either who Leah was involved with or what else she could have been mixed up in that got her killed?”
“I’ve thought about that a lot. I just have no idea who she could have been sleeping with. If it wasn’t an affair, maybe it was a call she took over the help line that somebody regretted making. Like I said, Leah got secretive before we broke up. Once she disappeared overnight and wouldn’t tell me who she’d been with or where. I imagined the worst. When she refused to tell me, I called off our relationship. If you can’t trust the person you’re with, what’s the point of carrying on with them?”
Gundersund nodded. A hit close to home: Wolf could have been talking about him and Fiona. He’d also been consumed by the green-eyed monster, but in his case, Fiona had given him ample proof of her infidelity. He hadn’t broken it off, however. Fiona had been the one to tell him they were over. What kind of a fool did that make him? An even bigger one now that he was considering taking her back.
Gundersund looked across at Stonechild. She had her head down, writing the last of the information that Wolf had doled out. He bet she never compromised her beliefs for anyone. She looked up, perhaps sensing his gaze. Her eyes went from questioning to unreadable in one split second.
“I think we’ve got all we need for now.” She looked at Wolf, who was lifting a forkful of cold egg to his mouth. “We’ll check out the bars you gave us. If you think of anything else we should know, give us a call right away.”
“I know the drill,” Wolf said. “I won’t be leaving town.”
“So what do you think?” Gundersund asked as they reached his car. “Is he lying?”
“I’m starting to believe him.” Stonechild opened the passenger door. “Too bad if he’s taken up drinking to ease the pain. It won’t help in the long run.” She tapped the car roof. “Time to track down Jucinda and grill her about this affair she witnessed. Maybe she can cough up a few more details like the make of the car wherein this illicit boinking took place.”
“Is that the technical name for it?”
“According to Doctor Ruth.”
“Are you up for some breakfast on the way?”
“Yeah. I could eat.”
“They have a good breakfast at Morrison’s on King. One of Kingston’s landmark greasy spoons.”
“As long as the coffee is hot.”
Mark Withers was manning the phone when they entered the help line an hour later. He held up his pointer finger and directed them to the couch. They took seats and waited while he finished his call. The mess of the day before had been cleared away.
Mark hung up and walked over to them. He was wearing black shorts, a Planet Hollywood T-shirt, and sandals. His streaked blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a strap of black leather encircled his neck. Despite his youthful clothes, his boyish face was tired and he looked closer to his age, which Gundersund knew to be mid-thirties.
“Any word yet on Gail?” Mark asked.
“She’s in an induced coma, but we’re told she’s stable. They’ll be bringing her around when the brain swelling goes down, which could be anytime apparently,” Gundersund said. “We expected Jucinda to be working today.”
“She’s coming in later. Nate should be here any minute. I’m running low on staff and nobody’s lining up to replace them, oddly enough.” He grimaced. “Word has gotten around that if you work here, you’d better have some life insurance.”
“Nate and Jucinda aren’t worried?”
“They are, actually. Good thing they both need the money, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re spending their free time looking for other jobs.”
Nate picked that moment to enter. He slung his knapsack over the back of a chair and walked over. “Sorry I’m late, Mark. Any word on Gail?”
“She’s hanging in,” Mark said.
“Good.”
“We’ve got a few questions for you, Nathan,” Stonechild said. “Can we use your office, Mark?”
“Sure. I’ll hold down the phones.” Mark reached the desk in time to pick up on the second ring.
The cleanup in the outer office hadn’t extended to Mark’s lair. File folders and papers were tossed around the floor as if a gale-force wind had blown through. The garbage can lay on its side, fast food wrappers and coffee cups spread about, a half-eaten sandwich smushed into the carpet. Mark had cleared a place at his desk to work but hadn’t bothered with anywhere else. Nathan righted a chair and sat down. Stonechild and Gundersund leaned against either side of the desk, looking down at him.
It was a cramped, sunless room and Gundersund felt like a clumsy giant in the enclosed space. He forced himself to ignore the nausea creeping up his throat. “You were home last night I understand,” he said.
Nathan nodded. “My wife and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary. I took her for dinner and a movie. We got home after eleven.”
“Have you any insights into what happened here last night?” Gundersund decided an open question might elicit the most information at this point. Mark hadn’t been able to identify anything missing and they were at a loss as to what was going on.
“Not a clue. We don’t keep money or drugs on the premises. You can find us if you do a bit of research online, but who would want to target this place?”
“You keep records of the calls?”
“We do, but the entries are never linked to the callers because we never take names. We’re an anonymous service and that’s well advertised. We don’t give out our names either and we sure wouldn’t meet any of them. That would get us fired.”
“We were told that Gail kept her own files on co-workers.”
Nate laughed. “Gail looked at us as her petri dish. She’d say the most outrageous things to see how we’d react. I looked at what she was record
ing when she forgot her laptop last month. Most of it was silly stuff, although some of it could have been stretched into a study of some sort. She kept one on Leah and others on Wolf, Mark, and her flatmate Elaine. From what I read, Elaine went ballistic when Gail came onto her.”
“Did Gail record anything about an affair that Leah was having?”
“She never wrote anything about an affair. Believe me, if she’d known about it, she would have made notes. You’ll be able to read through her files for yourself. She didn’t even have a password on her laptop.”
“The laptop is missing,” Gundersund said. “And since you are the only one who read the files, we’re going to bring you into the station and have you write down whatever you can remember.” He pondered what it could mean if Gail hadn’t recorded the name of Leah’s lover. Would whoever did this think she had? Would just the thought of their name being recorded be enough for the person to break in and steal the laptop from her? Perhaps Gail had blackmailed him.
Nathan frowned. “Great. Serves me right for snooping, I guess. Can I do it after my shift?”
“Now would be better if you can arrange it.”
“I’ll see if Mark can hold down the fort for an hour.”
Stonechild stopped Nathan at the door. “As Tadesco’s TA, do you know a student named Della Munroe?”
Nathan’s back stiffened, his hand on the door knob. He spoke without turning around. “Sure. Smart cookie. Why?”
“Had you heard there was an accident at her house last week?
“No. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. I wonder if you ever saw her with the professor outside of class?”
Nate took a step sideways. His eyes met hers and slid away. “Now that you mention it, yeah. She was in his office a couple of times when I went to drop off some papers. Lots of students went to talk to him after class, though. He had an open door policy.”
Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle Page 81
