Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle

by Jeffrey Round

  “You seem close to Dino Tadesco.”

  Mark shifted away from her, a subtle body movement but one that Kala read as resistance to her probing. He wouldn’t be telling her the entire truth.

  “We hang now and then.”

  “Did he also hang with others on staff? Wolf or Leah?” She hated the word hang. It was so imprecise, it could have meant anything.

  “Not so much. He wasn’t sleeping with either of them if that’s what you’re asking.” Mark laughed.

  “Was he sleeping around on his wife with someone else? A student?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “But you must have insight into his fidelity, or lack thereof, since you spend a lot of time together in bars after work.”

  Anger flashed across his boyish face, but only for a second. “You people really do check under every rock, don’t you? All I know is that we didn’t fool around on our wives when we were together and we never discussed doing it. Not every man screws around, Detective.”

  “So you say.”

  The phone rang, interrupting what he was about to reply. “Hello?” He turned away from her, but immediately turned back around, his expression puzzled. “Leah Sampson? May I ask how you got her name?”

  Kala moved her chair closer. “Man or woman?” she whispered.

  Mark covered the receiver with his hand. “Girl, young,” he mouthed. He uncovered the receiver. “So, this was how long ago?”

  Kala put out her hand. “I’ll take it.”

  Mark covered the receiver again with his hand. “Goes against our rules …”

  Kala wriggled her fingers. “I’m overruling your rules. Give it here. Tell her you’re handing her over to Leah as requested.”

  Mark tried to outstare her. He lost. After a few beats he said into the phone, “I’ll just pass you over. One moment.” He gave Kala the receiver without another word but his angry face spoke volumes.

  “How can I help you?” Kala asked, Mark quickly forgotten. As hoped, the girl assumed she was speaking with Leah Sampson. Kala listened closely to the timbre of the speaker’s voice. She placed her at about twelve but she could have been older.

  “I was told to call you if I needed to reach my sister.”

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  Kala listened to the in and out of the girl’s breathing. Finally, a deep inhale of air and, “My sister’s name is Nadirah. I need to speak with her.”

  Nadirah. The name sounded Middle Eastern or Indian. Kala spoke carefully. She couldn’t let on that she had no idea who Nadirah was or what her connection had been with Leah Sampson. “I wonder if you and I should meet … so that I can fill in Nadirah about why you need to reach her. It will help when I arrange for her to contact you.”

  Another pause.

  “Can you tell me your name?” Kala asked softly. “I’d like to help.”

  “I can’t … not now.”

  “Are you in school? I could come to you.”

  “No, not here. Maybe I can meet you someplace. I’ll call you back after I check.”

  “When will you call back?” Kala didn’t want to let her go. She felt in her gut that this child was the link to what had happened to Leah.

  “I’ll know tomorrow. I’ll call around this time.”

  “I’ll be waiting for your call tomorrow at this same time,” Kala repeated.

  Mark jotted something down and turned the paper toward her. She read the words: Is she in danger? Kala nodded in his direction.

  “Are you safe?” she asked.

  The breathing quickened on the other end of the line. “No,” the girl’s voice was just above a whisper. “We are not safe.”

  Before Kala could respond, the dial tone hummed in her ear. She hung up the phone and tried to put together what had just happened.

  “So?” Mark asked. “Did you get her name?”

  Kala pulled herself back from the minefields and focused on his face. She felt the urgency to act, but felt completely helpless. Could she have done something to keep the girl talking? Had she let the opportunity slip away?

  “No, she didn’t give her name, but Leah must have gotten involved in a situation that got out of control. You said that your staff don’t give out their names or make personal contact with callers, correct?”

  “You got that right. If they did, they’d be fired. Anonymity on both ends is the foundation of the help line.”

  “I think Leah might have broken your number one rule. This girl mentioned that her sister’s name is Nadirah. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Never heard that name before. It’s unusual enough that I would have remembered if Leah had mentioned it.”

  “Leah must have kept whatever she was doing to help this person a secret.”

  They were both silent. Kala didn’t have to spell it out. Whatever Leah had done in secret had probably led to her death.

  “Let’s hope the kid calls back tomorrow,” Mark said. “Hopefully she won’t find out in the meantime that Leah Sampson doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Nadirah is a Muslim name,” Kala said to Gundersund. She scrolled through the list of girls’ names on the site. “From India,” she added.

  Gundersund looked up from his computer. “There can be serious family issues in their communities. Girls aren’t regarded the same as boys in some immigrant families from that neck of the world. We had some cultural sensitivity training last year. Bit of an eye opener.”

  “Do we have any database that would help us to find this family if we did a search of the name Nadirah?”

  “Depends on whether Nadirah had a driver’s licence or police record. It’s still tough without a surname. She might have been a prostitute. That might explain why the little sister doesn’t know where she is. I’ll run a check.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure,” Gundersund said. “The family could be abusive and the little sister’s in trouble now that her sister has taken to the streets.”

  Kala rubbed her forehead. She smiled as a thought broke through her fatigue. “Nadirah must have been a student at Queen’s if she called the help line. I could call records to check.”

  “I’ll get someone on that too,” Gundersund said. “You look like you need some lunch.” He checked his watch. “It’s going on three.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m feeling light-headed.” Kala stood. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I ate at one so I’m good, thanks.”

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  She took the stairs to the cafeteria and ordered a roast beef sandwich and a coffee. On second thought, she asked the girl to add a salad. It had been a while since she’d eaten anything green and leafy.

  She found a spot out of the way of traffic and sat down to eat. She wanted to take a break from work but the kid’s voice on the help line phone that morning was still playing in her brain. It raised disturbing images of Dawn on the run with Lily and her con boyfriend. Two innocent young girls in trouble and all Kala could do was search through databases and spin her wheels. The inaction was driving her crazy. She was chomping to do something to somebody. The feeling that time was slipping away while trouble brewed like a gathering storm was getting tough to shake.

  Gundersund found Stonechild staring out the window, sipping on the last of her coffee. He stood for a moment just inside the doorway to the cafeteria and watched her unseen. She was deep in thought in the middle of a room filled with chatting officers and clinking dishes, the only one sitting alone. She didn’t appear bothered by her solitary lunch. The stillness of her features was Zen-like.

  He heard his name and glanced to his left. Fiona was waving to him from the far corner of the room where she sat with some of the forensics team. She wore a blue dress that he’d bought for her the summer before she moved out. It was silky, the top tight and flattering while the skirt fell away from her waist just enough to hint at her curves as she moved. He hadn’t seen her
wear it all year. Her hair was loose and her lips painted a creamy red. She motioned for him to join them, but he pointed to Stonechild and mouthed the word “working.” Fiona’s gaze shifted toward Stonechild and her smile evaporated.

  He crossed the floor and squeezed past two tables to where Stonechild sat oblivious to his approach. He waited for her to focus in on him.

  She blinked. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Sorry to interrupt your lunch but we’ve got to move. Call from the hospital just came in. They’ve brought Gail Pankhurst back to the land of the living and the doctor says we can speak with her for a few minutes.” The relief on Stonechild’s face made him smile.

  She jumped up. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Fiona as he followed Stonechild toward the door. The unguarded look on her face could have turned water into ice. One part of him didn’t like to think where her jealousy, no matter how misplaced, could lead. The other part was secretly pleased that she even cared.

  Dr. Blais warned them that they’d only have a few minutes, if that. “Gail started waking up in the night but we waited until now to call you.”

  “Has she suffered any brain damage?” Stonechild asked.

  “Not that we can tell. The swelling has gone down and she’s stable. Barring any setbacks, I expect her to fully recover. She could have headaches and dizziness for some time, but we’ll have to wait and see. The recuperative powers of the young are amazing.”

  “Has she said anything about the attack?” Gundersund asked.

  Dr. Blais shifted her tired eyes to his. “No. She might not remember any of the trauma.”

  He nodded. “That’s my fear. I’ve had other people who survived horrific events blank out chunks of time.”

  They took places around the bed. Gail was a large mound under the white sheet. Her arm was hooked to an intravenous drip and a machine monitored her vitals. Gundersund thought her Mickey Mouse and Betty Boop tattoos made her look young and vulnerable. Colourful cartoons with her as canvas. She was a girl crying out for attention if he’d ever seen one. “Have any family members been to visit her?” he asked Dr. Blais.

  “No. Her mother calls twice a day.”

  Stonechild shook her head and met his eyes. He could see that they were on the same wavelength.

  They’d agreed that Stonechild should ask the questions since Gail had already met her. Gundersund had suggested that his size and gender might frighten the girl after what she’d been through. Dr. Blais picked up one of Gail’s hands and rubbed it gently between both of her own. “Gail, you have visitors. Officer Stonechild would like to ask you a few questions if you’re up for it.” She waited until Gail started coming around before stepping back.

  Gail’s eyes blinked open. They were faded blue but vivid against the paleness of her skin. She turned her cheek into the pillow where Stonechild stood squarely in her line of vision. “’Kay,” she said.

  “Gail, do you remember what happened to you?”

  “Someone at the door. Wolf. I opened it and then … I can’t remember.” Her face contorted as if she was about to cry.

  Stonechild touched her shoulder. “It’s okay. Nobody can hurt you anymore. We’re here to keep you safe. Was it Wolf who was at the door?”

  “Waiting for him. Don’t know.”

  “The person who knocked you on the head took your laptop. I understand that you were keeping notes on people. Did you keep any notes on Leah Sampson?”

  “My laptop? Experiments. For my thesis.”

  “And Leah?”

  “Yes, Leah.”

  “Did Leah mention a caller named Nadirah? Think hard, Gail. This is important.”

  Gundersund watched memories flit across Gail’s face as she strained to place the name.

  “No. But Leah took long breaks. Left early. Once, gone overnight … never knew where.”

  “You recorded all this in your files?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Blais held up a finger. They had one more minute.

  Stonechild looked at Gundersund. Her eyes asked if he had a question. He nodded to let her know that she was doing fine.

  “Did you keep notes on everyone at the help line?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did you notice anybody else leaving early?”

  It took longer this time for Gail to respond. Gundersund thought they’d lost her to sleep when she said, “Nate. Gone sometimes.”

  “Thank you, Gail. We’ll let you sleep now. You’ve done great.” Stonechild lifted a hand and lay it against Gail’s cheek with great tenderness.

  Gundersund’s breath caught in his throat.

  Dr. Blais straightened the sheet around Gail’s waist and checked the IV. She motioned toward the hallway and they followed her out.

  “I don’t expect she’ll be awake much the rest of the day,” she said. “It could take her a long time to remember what happened.”

  “An officer will stay with her to make sure she’s not targeted again,” Gundersund said. “No visitors except family for now.”

  “If any family come,” said Dr. Blais with a sideways smile, “I’ll be more than happy to let them see her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dalal expected to see Meeza sitting on the couch watching television when she came home from school, but the living room was silent and empty. Nobody was in the kitchen or the backyard either, not even her mother. She knew that Ghazi was off somewhere doing whatever it was he did after school. She wasn’t altogether sure what, but she was relieved to have him out of the house. She climbed the stairs and listened for sounds of her mother. Her parents’ bedroom door at the end of the hall was closed, so her mother was likely having an afternoon nap. Meeza’s door was also closed.

  Dalal silently crossed the carpet and knocked lightly. When Meeza didn’t answer, she tried the door knob. The handle turned easily and the door swung open. Dalal stepped inside and closed the door shut behind her. Meeza’s bed was made and the window was wide open, a breeze billowing the curtains into the room. Boo and Meeza’s two favourite dolls sat on her pillow, their glassy eyes seeing all and seeing nothing. The dolls were well-loved, their hair frizzy and sparse from too many brushings. There was no sign of her little sister.

  Dalal left Meeza’s room and was near the head of the stairs when she heard the front door open and then slam shut. She froze in place and craned her neck to look over the banister. The top of Meeza’s favourite violet-coloured head scarf was directly below. Her mother’s shrill voice travelled up the stairwell.

  “You go up to your room and don’t come out. I don’t want you talking to your sister. I’ve left a suitcase next to the closet. Pack up all your clean clothes. Mr. Khan will be coming for you on the weekend. Now get moving.”

  “I don’t want to go with Mr. Khan,” Meeza’s voice, a childish whine.

  “You stupid, ungrateful girl. He’s being very generous taking you off my hands. If we wait much longer, you won’t be worth anything.”

  “But he’s mean. He hits me.”

  “He only hit you because you didn’t do as he asked. You will do what he says from now on, do you hear me, Meeza? I will not have you do anything to damage the family’s reputation. Mr. Khan will be your husband soon. You will obey him as you obey me.”

  Dalal stepped away from the stairs and tiptoed to her room. She shut her door before Meeza’s heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs to her own room. Her heart beat as if a small bird was trapped inside her chest. What to do? What to do? Her eyes searched the bedroom. Tears filled and threatened to overflow. The room turned blurry.

  “Dalal!” Her mother screamed up the stairs.

  She must have spotted Dalal’s shoes by the front door. Dalal dove for her bed, grabbing a book and pencil from her desk on the way by. She had her eyes closed pretending to be asleep with the open book on her stomach when her mother flung open the door.

  “Sleeping at this hour of
the day. You lazy girl,” her mother said, but her eyes darted around the room, more assessing than angry.

  Dalal sat up and yawned. “Sorry, Mother. I was studying and must have fallen asleep. Do you need me to make supper?”

  “No. You study. I’ll make supper tonight.” She started to pull the door closed but stopped and said, “Meeza has the flu so we’ll let her sleep tonight. Stay away so you don’t catch it.”

  Dalal’s heart turned. How many other lies? “Okay, Mother. I hope she feels better soon.”

  Her mother’s eyes searched hers and Dalal kept her expression innocent of bad thoughts.

  “I’m sure she’ll be better soon. With any luck, the rest of us won’t catch what she’s got.” Her mother’s lips curved upward in a smile. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her, but not before Dalal saw the hardness in her black eyes.

  After she’d gone, Dalal hugged her legs to her chest and lay one hot cheek against her knee. At the same time, she yanked the elastics from her hair with her right hand and flung them onto the floor. Her hair, freed from its braid, fell around her to her waist. Rage and despair flooded through her. Her mother had talked about Meeza as if she were a bug under her foot.

  Dalal sobbed into her pant leg. She’d tried to be the good daughter after Nadirah had abandoned them. She’d swallowed all of the insults and cried away the slaps alone in her room. She’d done everything asked of her, but not anymore. Her mother’s smile as she made fun of Meeza had let Dalal finally see the truth. Whatever she did would never make her mother love her or Meeza.

  Dalal wiped her tears and breathed in deep gulps of air until she felt calm enough to think. Now was not the time to break. Meeza needed her.

  She stood and walked on silent feet to the closet. She wouldn’t be able to take many clothes, but that didn’t matter. When they found Nadirah, they’d buy new clothes. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above the dresser. She almost didn’t recognize the face that looked back at her. Her eyes were huge and blazing, not those of a child any longer. They sparkled with unshed tears. She tightened her lips together in a tight line. The time for crying was over. She would stop letting her family do things to her and Meeza, even if it meant never seeing them again. If Nadirah could find the strength to do it, then so could she.