Shallow End

by Brenda Chapman

  They ordered their usual meals: the scallops and bacon appetizer to share, prime rib with a twice baked potato and Caesar salad for her, and the New York sirloin with mushrooms and garlic mashed potatoes for him. Each selected a large glass of Californian Belle Glos Pinot Noir to accompany the meal. This Keg had been a haunt when they were together.

  “We are creatures of habit, aren’t we, darling?” Fiona asked him after the waitress had gone.

  “Fiona …” he started, but she interrupted.

  “Let’s not get into anything tonight. We can pretend for one meal, can’t we?”

  He studied her more closely. Redness rimmed the edges of her eyes as it only did when she’d been crying. He felt guilt at the thought that he might be the cause.

  “We can,” he said.

  He wished he still loved her. He could try again to let her into his heart and the feelings might return. He knew he could fall back into the marriage with her. They’d learn to be a couple again, but he knew that it would cost him in the end. She might be faithful for a year, maybe two, but it wasn’t in her to be faithful forever. He didn’t want to go through the pain when she left him again — and she would.

  She held his gaze and her expression changed as she seemed to sense his mood. She said softly, her voice small, defeated, “This isn’t going to work, is it, Paul? You’ve decided that I’m not worth giving a second chance.”

  Gundersund reached over to take her hand. She rarely gave up fighting for what she wanted or showed weakness. This moved him more than anything else she could have said or done.

  “I’m not sure that marriage is for us. I’m a safe place for you to land, but I don’t think it’s enough. You have to be honest with yourself, Fiona. You owe this to yourself … and to me.”

  Her shoulders straightened and she picked up her glass. Her voice started out wobbly but grew in strength. “Well, since we agreed to keep this light tonight, I’m going to keep my end of the deal and tell you about my day. Only one body this morning and it was a natural death. Too much fast food, smoking, and a sedentary lifestyle killed him at forty-nine. I taught a class at the university after lunch and then made it back to the morgue to start preparing for another autopsy. A suicide this time. I always find those the saddest.” She took a drink, swallowed, and said, “You think I’d be used to young men offing themselves by now, but I never am.”

  “Some things we aren’t meant to get used to.”

  He met her eyes and neither looked away until the waitress arrived with the appetizer. They took their time unwrapping their napkins and simultaneously reached for the same scallop with their forks.

  Fiona laughed, ducking her fork under his and spearing the scallop. She popped it into her mouth. “Any progress on the Eton case?” she asked as she chewed. “Mmmm, this had to be the best scallop on the plate.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “We’re eliminating suspects before zeroing in on the likely culprit.”

  “The teacher — what was her name? — Jane …”

  “Thompson. Heath has her in his sights and we’re to question her more forcefully to get her to confess.”

  “I know that tone. You aren’t convinced.”

  “She’s one cool customer. I can’t see her handing us her own head on a platter. Stonechild thinks we have to come at Jane more subtly to get her to talk. Stonechild has a terrific way of drawing people out.” He noticed Fiona’s smile waver and silently cursed himself for bringing up his partner. He knew they didn’t like each other much.

  The waitress picked that moment to deliver their main courses, and Fiona left his comments about Stonechild alone. They busied themselves eating and Gundersund steered the conversation to safer subjects. The table next to them changed customers, and Fiona knew the woman from yoga class. Introductions were made and Fiona kept the conversation going between the two tables. Over coffee and liqueurs, she told Gunderson her news.

  “I wasn’t certain until tonight, but I’ve been offered a four-month teaching position at the University of Calgary and I’m going to take it. I’ve already discussed the idea of taking a short sabbatical with my boss so now I just have to accept and get all the details ironed out.”

  He didn’t know how to feel. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? “It sounds like a good opportunity.”

  “It’ll be a change. It’ll give us both a chance to step back and think about what we want. Really, to figure out what you want, because I already know. You and I belong together. Will you give me the four months before reaching a final decision about our marriage?”

  Another delay. Four months wasn’t really a long time in the scheme of things. He owed Fiona nothing but he’d compromise this one last time. Perhaps, she’d decide to release him of her own accord once she got away. She’d meet someone else and forget about rekindling their marriage.

  “Four months,” he said, “and then we do what’s best for us both. Agreed?”

  Her smile was wide and self-assured and her eyes had regained their sparkle. She raised her glass to clink his. “Agreed.”

  A stop on the way home for groceries with a detour to Sima Sushi at the bottom of Princess Street for a takeout order of spicy salmon roll with crab, cream cheese, and cucumber, and Kala was turning onto Old Front Road as the sun was beginning to set over the treetops. She opened the window all the way and breathed in the fresh fall air, slowing as she passed Gundersund’s property. A quick glance toward his house and she noticed that his car wasn’t in the driveway, but she hadn’t expected it to be. She remembered that he was having dinner with Fiona as they worked on patching up their marriage.

  It looked as if Woodhouse was going to win the office pool. She hadn’t wagered any money on whether or not Fiona would reel Gundersund back in. She hoped for his sake that he knew what he was doing. She could understand how Fiona’s chameleon-like ability to transform herself into whatever men wanted would fool somebody like Gundersund. He was a kind man, surprisingly unsure of himself when it came to women. A beautiful, self-absorbed feline like Fiona would keep him off balance and thankful for any crumbs. Kala was happy that she’d nixed the feelings she’d started to have for him. Very happy. Not only did he have a wife, but he was also her partner. Two big reasons to run the other way.

  The question was why she craned her neck to look for him every time she drove past his house.

  Lining the entrance to her driveway was a tangle of bushes and trees that had grown thicker the past year that she’d been living in the house, looking after it while Marjory was living up north researching a land claims case. Marjory called periodically and had been back for a few weekends. During her last phone conversation two weeks before, she’d told Kala that she was thinking of selling the house and moving to Vancouver. “I’ve been asked to take on a new land claims case when this one wraps up in a few months. I always wanted to live on the West Coast.”

  Kala drove slowly up the drive. She parked halfway to the house and stepped outside. She could hear the waves rolling onto the beach at the end of the property, and already the first stars were poking through the deepening blue sky. An owl hooted from the woods on her left and a small animal rustled in the leaves not far from where she stood, likely a field mouse. The thought that she’d soon have to leave this place and look for a new home made her sadder than she would have expected. She couldn’t pinpoint when she’d begun to feel at home here, but this was the first time she’d had the sense of belonging anywhere since she left Birdtail Creek to live with a foster family in Ontario just before her eleventh birthday. Taiku loved the freedom of the beach and woods. She liked knowing that Gundersund was down the road.

  Once again, Taiku was not waiting for her at the back door. She could hear him bound across the landing and down the stairs after she called his name and jangled her keys. He galloped down the hall toward her, his tail wagging, and he jumped against her legs and waited
for her welcome. But while she set her bag down and put her supper into the fridge, he flopped down near the kitchen table instead of heading to the back door to go outside. Strange. Worried, Kala crossed the kitchen and knelt down beside him. “Are you sick, boy?” She touched his nose, but it felt wet and cool as it should. She was relieved that he stood when she did, and she let her fingers run through the soft ruff of fur around his neck. “Let’s go outside for a run.”

  On the back deck, they stopped at the head of the stairs and Kala watched the sun going down to the west over the lake. Taiku ran down the steps and disappeared into the bushes. She could hear him rummaging around, but he was right next to her as she crossed the lawn to climb down the short cliff to the stone stretch of beach. He seemed content to stay next to her, and again she wondered at his lack of energy. Usually, he was all over the property after a day shut up indoors. When the sun was completely down, they returned to the house and she poured his supper from the bag of dog food and refilled his water bowl. His tail wagged, but he only ate a few bites before going to lie down in his spot by the table.

  Now, this is getting really odd, she thought while retrieving her sushi from the fridge and pouring a glass of milk. She squeezed in next to Taiku — he always stretched out in the same spot by her feet — and ate while watching to see if he was exhibiting signs of sickness. He slept, snoring softly and twitching while he dreamed. He seemed to be breathing without problem and his eyes had been clear when he’d looked up at her, but Kala promised herself that she’d take him for a checkup first thing after the weekend. He probably could use a visit to the vet, anyhow, since his sixth birthday was coming up in a few weeks.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kala woke from a deep sleep disoriented with her heart pounding. Eyes wide open, staring into the darkness, she forced herself to lie still and listen. The wind had come up since she’d come to bed and the curtains were billowing sails snapping into the room. Taiku paced restlessly in the hallway and Kala thought this combination of sounds must have been what awakened her. The rest of the house appeared quiet.

  She jumped across the room to pull the window shut and called to Taiku to come as she leaped back into bed. The temperature outside had dropped at least ten degrees, and she shivered under the blankets. Taiku’s paws padded across the hardwood floor, and he settled with a loud sigh on the rug next to the bed.

  Kala tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. An hour later and she was still wide awake. Her eyes inspected the shadows past the open doorway. Her senses had been on high alert all week and she wasn’t certain why. Was it the murder investigation making her jumpy, or was it Taiku being out of sorts? Whatever was creating her uneasiness had entered her home like an invisible ghost. All week she’d felt another presence. She’d walked through the rooms each evening carefully looking for signs that somebody had been in the house but had found nothing out of order. Nothing that she could put her finger on. Yet, still she couldn’t relax.

  At twenty after three, she got up, slipped into her bathrobe and walked downstairs in the dark, Taiku silently following behind her. She gave him a biscuit while she heated up some milk on the stove. She didn’t bother to turn on any lights except the dim one over the stove. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and she hoped the natural light would help her body become sleepy. They settled on the couch, Taiku’s head resting against her thigh while she sipped the milk and thought about how to approach Jane Thompson because they’d be bringing her in for questioning late morning. Rouleau was going to take the lead, which suited her. He had the most experience and Jane wasn’t going to give anything away easily, but perhaps, Kala could suggest some questions ahead of time. Rouleau always appreciated input.

  A crash against the window made Kala jump off the couch and slop milk onto her housecoat. Taiku was instantly beside her on the floor, growling low in his throat, the fur on the back of his neck standing straight up. Kala put down her mug on the coffee table and crossed to the window, craning her neck to see into the darkness. “Wait here, Taiku.”

  She walked silently into the front hallway and found the switch to turn on the outside light. When she opened the door, a gust of wind pushed her back, the cold cutting through her thin housecoat. She pulled the fabric tighter around her neck and stepped outside in bare feet. Her eyes took a few minutes to adjust to the shadows outside the shallow pool of light, but she made out a large branch lying under the picture window. The wind had ripped it from the oak tree and tossed it against the house. Leaves were swirling across the lawn and the trees were black and swaying. Clouds filled the night sky, blocking out the moon and stars. She took another look around the yard before slamming the door and throwing the deadbolt.

  “Nothing to worry about,” she said to Taiku as she returned to the couch. She stooped to rub his neck until he stopped growling and his body relaxed under her hand. She picked up the mug from where she’d set it on the coffee table. “Let’s head upstairs and see if we can fall asleep again.”

  Taiku appeared on the same wavelength and led her to the hallway, checking that she was following as he started up the stairs. Kala stopped at the bedroom where Dawn had stayed the few short months she lived in the house. The window was open and the room was cold. Kala entered and closed the window before returning to her own bedroom and climbing back under the covers. She finished her milk in the darkness and gradually stopped shivering under the blankets. Fatigue made her limbs heavy and she let her mind wander until all her thoughts were a kaleidoscope of colours and shooting images behind her closed eyelids.

  She and Taiku were both sound asleep when the thunder and driving rain rolled in at 5:00 a.m.

  Woodhouse was the only one in the office the next morning when Kala arrived a half hour late. Even though it was Saturday, Rouleau had asked them to show by nine so that they could prepare for Jane Thompson’s interview later in the morning. The effects of the terrible night’s sleep had made her sluggish and she’d taken longer than normal to get herself out the door.

  Woodhouse raised his arm and made a show of looking at his watch. “Up late partying, were you?”

  She dropped her bag on the floor and sat down at her desk, ignoring his question. She turned on her computer screen and brought up her email before looking across at him. “Where is everyone?”

  “Rouleau and Gundersund went for breakfast in the café. They said for you to join them if you like when you get in. I expect they’re almost done by now.”

  “That’s okay. Where’s Bennett?”

  “Washroom. I expect he’s almost done, too.” Woodhouse grinned, leaned back in his chair, and pretended to grab his crotch.

  Kala stared at him without reacting. He was always ruder with her when nobody was around to witness. She could still make complaints against his behaviour but preferred to bide her time. She knew he was making Bennett’s life a misery. That bothered her more than his harassment of her. She could handle whatever he had to throw at her, but Bennett wasn’t as hardened by bullies the likes of Woodhouse. Bennett took things personally.

  She looked past him to the door as Bennett entered like a ray of sunshine. He smiled when he saw her and walked over to sit in Gundersund’s chair. “Rouleau and Gundersund are on their way. Woodhouse and I are heading over to pick up Jane Thompson while you three go over the case to make sure Rouleau has all the information before Jane’s interview.” He rolled the chair closer as if trying to block out Woodhouse. He dropped his voice. “Say, has Vera sold you a ticket to her fundraiser yet?”

  “No. What is it?”

  “A musical put on for the hospital. I have two tickets and wonder if you’d like to come with me? It’s Tuesday evening and we should have this case about wrapped up by then.”

  “You might be a tad optimistic, but sure, I’ll come with you if we don’t have to work overtime. How much do I owe for the ticket?”

  “This is on me.”

 
They both looked up at the same time as Gundersund and Rouleau walked in together. Gundersund’s eyes went from her to Bennett and she felt guilt flood through her, as if she and Bennett were up to no good. Bennett must have felt it, too, because he immediately got out of Gundersund’s chair with an apology and headed to his own across from Woodhouse.

  “Brought you a coffee,” Gundersund said as he set the cup on her desk. He was frowning as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Hell of a storm going on out there. Did you get wet coming in?”

  She picked up the coffee cup. “Thanks. No, I managed to stay dry. How was your dinner last night?”

  “All right. Can’t go wrong with a Keg steak.” He sat down and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. He yawned. “Fiona’s taking a four-month teaching position in Calgary beginning next month.”

  Which explains the lack of sleep. He can’t stand the idea of her being away. Kala wasn’t a fan of Fiona but felt the need to make him feel better. “The time will go fast. She’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He started to say something else but Rouleau appeared in the doorway to his office and called them both over. Gundersund looked across at Woodhouse and Bennett and said, “Time to go pick up Jane Thompson. She’ll be working at the store in the back today. She knows you’re coming.”

  Rouleau and Kala let Jane sit alone for twenty minutes in one of the smaller rooms before they entered. Kala could see immediately that Jane was on edge, more so than the last time they’d questioned her. Her blond hair looked freshly washed, and her clothes were simple but clean — a sweatshirt and faded jeans — but they were loose on her slender frame, and Kala thought she’d lost weight in the week since they’d first questioned her. Her face was pale as ivory and she had the look of suffering around her eyes, still mesmerizing in the fluorescent lighting. Kala hoped that she’d be up to their questioning. Rouleau was looking Jane over, too, and appeared to reach a similar conclusion.