Joe laughed. “I asked you twice if you wanted to shoot some hoops but you didn’t answer.” He held up a basketball. “We have twenty minutes before my mother has to drive you home.”
“I was just … never mind. We could play twenty-one.”
“Best out of three.”
“You’re on.”
Joe hesitated. He looked down at her legs. “You could borrow some of Meghan’s jeans if it would be easier. You’re close to the same size.”
She looked down too at the skirt that ended just above her running shoes. The head scarf was waiting just inside the front door for her to put back on. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m used to running in this.”
The net was screwed into the top of the garage and visible from the street. Dalal checked for Ghazi’s car between throws, ready to run into the backyard if she spotted any sign of him. She kept her worry to herself, not wanting to ruin the last of their time together. Ghazi would have thought nothing about dragging her out of the driveway in front of everyone if he knew she was there with a boy.
She tried to shake off the sadness that suddenly filled her. This would be the one and only time she would be allowed to have supper with his family. Even now, a little bead of worry had worked its way into her mind. Why had her parents let her come tonight? Were they up to something and wanted her out of the way? She bent low and grabbed the ball from Joe as he bounced it past her on his way to the net. A quick turn and she threw the ball skyward. It bounced off the garage and dropped with a swoosh through the net.
“Gimme five!” Joe said, holding up his hand.
She slapped his palm.
“Next time you come, we’ll get Meghan and Mom out here for a real game.”
She turned her eyes away from his smiling ones. “Next time,” she said as if she believed there would actually be one.
Taiku ran ahead of Kala and disappeared into the tall grass, his tail beating the stalks back and forth like a fan as he went. Kala walked along the side of the road, letting Taiku have free reign. He’d been shut up in the house all day and deserved an unhindered run. It was a cool evening after the stretch of late September heat. Even the shadows were getting longer for this time of day. Kala looked skyward. Soon the geese would be heading south. She would get the urge to leave too, restless for something she could never put her finger on. It was the same every year.
She half-expected to meet Gundersund and his dog along the route and was surprised at how disappointed she felt when they didn’t appear. The real surprise was that Gundersund was turning out to be good company: quiet for the most part but not because of a lack of intelligence. Like her, he didn’t speak to fill in the silence. She was comfortable in his presence. The urge to keep moving and to be alone had ebbed for a little while. Rouleau and his dad were two others who might keep her from heading out as soon as they solved the Sampson murder and the Pankhurst assault, which hopefully wouldn’t be upgraded to murder. The latest report had Gail stabilized but still in the coma. Maybe this year the birds heading south wouldn’t get her gypsy blood flowing.
“Come, Taiku,” Kala called. She held her fingers to her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. She stood stock still and waited. A moment later, he bounded out of a thicket and led the way toward home, stopping and looking at her every so often to make sure she was following.
She’d picked up a prepared curried chicken and rice dish on her way home that she put into the oven. It would have gone nicely with a glass of white wine and she closed her eyes, imagining the taste on her tongue. She wondered if she would be able to reintroduce alcohol into her life. Could she limit herself to one glass, or was she one of those people who couldn’t stop once the drinking began? Her self-imposed sobriety surely was proof that she could practise restraint, or was she only deluding herself? The biggest part of her was scared to find out.
She’d just settled down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea when her cellphone rang. She looked at the number before answering.
“Shannon! What a nice surprise.”
“I never know when to call you.” Shannon’s voice travelled across the miles from Northern Ontario. “Are you staying in Kingston?”
“For now. How’s everything with you?”
“Good. I have some news though.”
“Should I be sitting down?”
“Maybe. We received an alert across the wire about two armed robbers on the run. Nation-wide alert.”
Kala felt her stomach drop. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “Lily.”
“Yeah. Her and Gil Valiquette, a recent guest of Millhaven. I thought you should know. She might try to track you down.”
“She told me that she’d stopped. Was anyone hurt?”
“They had a few people as hostages but let them go. They were holding up a liquor store. It doesn’t look good for her, Kala. Valiquette must have dragged her back into the business.”
“How could she be so stupid?” Kala rubbed her forehead. “Any word on Dawn, her daughter?”
“Nothing about a kid in the alert.”
“Shit.”
“So she hasn’t made contact? You’re like the only family she has, even if you’re not blood relatives.”
“She wanted nothing to do with me.” Kala thought about Ray at the Birdtail Reserve in Northern Manitoba. Lily might head there. “I’ll keep an eye out but I don’t expect to see her.”
“Good. Sometimes working at a police station turns out to be worthwhile. I would never have known if I wasn’t checking the alerts today.”
“Well thanks for letting me know, but I don’t think it’ll matter to me one way or the other. As I said, we really aren’t in each other’s lives.” Kala heard Shannon cover the receiver and call to someone.
“Gotta go,” Shannon said. “I’m hosting book club and the first people just arrived. Talk soon?”
“Yeah, soon.”
Kala closed the connection. She sat with her chin cupped in her hand, thinking about what to do. The problem was that if she tracked down Lily and her boyfriend, she might be forced to turn them in. Not only was she sworn to uphold the law, but there was also the girl to think about. Dawn was only twelve years old, still young enough to have a life if someone cared enough to give a damn. She could call Ray and warn him that Lily was likely on her way to him. It wouldn’t be much but he might be able to stop her if forewarned.
The oven timer beeped and Kala jumped in her chair. Supper was ready. She looked at the phone and weighed the wisdom of contacting Ray, then stood and dumped her cold tea down the sink.
What was she thinking?
She’d promised herself not to get involved with Lily ever again. Lily didn’t want saving, and she had nothing left to give. She felt the teapot with her fingers. It was hot still and there was enough tea for a fresh cup to go with her dinner. She would eat on the verandah and listen to the waves rolling onto the beach at the end of the property. The sky was clear and the stars would be out soon. There’d be enough light for her to take Taiku down to the water for a last run before bed. She’d jog alongside him and wear herself out and hopefully sleep would come quickly so that she could shut out the day.
Chapter Thirty-Two
T
he door was unlocked and the house was silent when Dalal stepped through the back door. Joe’s mom had dropped her off in front of the house but no eyes had been watching from behind the living room curtains. Dalal breathed a sigh of relief but the worry was still with her. Just what was her family up to?
Ghazi’s car was gone from the driveway but her father’s was in its usual spot. Dalal walked to the kitchen but her parents weren’t there. Dirty dishes and cooking pots filled the sink and spread across the counter. Her mother had made shrimp biryani by the smell of ginger, garlic, and chilies and the leftover basmati rice, cashews, and raisins in the serving bowl. Trust her to make Dalal’s favourite meal the one time she was away for supper. Dalal looked through the kitchen window. They were both sitting in the swing, her father reading the paper and her mother knitting. To anybody else, they would look like a normal family, spending quiet time together and enjoying each other’s company.
Dalal opened the door and called to them that she was home. The yell startled her mother. Her surprised look flashed guilt and anger in quick succession, and Dalal felt the worry in her belly growing. Her mother called her to come over. Her father looked up, saw her, and looked back at the paper. Dalal crossed the lawn to stand in front of them.
“Your project is finished?” her mother asked. Her mouth settled back into its familiar scowl.
“Yes. Thank you for letting me go to Meghan’s. We’ll get a good mark. I am sure of it.”
Her father grunted.
“Where’s Ghazi and Meeza?” Dalal asked.
“Ghazi is out with his friends.” That flash of something odd crossed her mother’s face again. “Meeza is in her room. She has the flu and went to bed early. Do not disturb her, whatever you do.”
Dalal found both curious. Ghazi didn’t have any friends that she knew of. Meeza had been fine that morning when they left for school together.
“I’ll go finish my other homework,” Dalal said, shifting her knapsack from one shoulder to the other. “If you don’t need anything, Mother.”
“Clean up the kitchen first,” her mother said.
“Yes, Mother.”
She didn’t make it upstairs until eight o’clock. Meeza’s door was shut and Dalal paused before knocking. She put her ear against the wood and heard what sounded like a wounded animal crying inside: a keening wail that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. Dalal walked back to the head of the stairs. Her parents had come inside while she worked in the kitchen. They were watching a show on television and the volume was up high. Her father was going deaf but refused to go to a doctor. Dalal tiptoed back to Meeza’s door and turned the handle.
Locked.
It must be locked from the outside. She knocked as loudly as she dared.
“Meeza? Meeza? Are you okay?”
The wailing quieted, but Meeza didn’t answer. Dalal waited as long as she safely could before crossing the hall to her own room. She shut the door and felt in her knapsack for Nadirah’s diary. It was time to do something. She prayed that she hadn’t left it too late.
Chapter Thirty-Three
T
he team met in Rouleau’s office at eight a.m. the following morning. Vera had let him know on his way in that Heath was expecting a briefing at nine. Chalmers took the seat closest to the door, which Rouleau thought was a symbolic move in light of his pending retirement. Woodhouse and Gundersund sat next to each other and Stonechild picked a spot on the other side of room. They looked tired, or maybe he was projecting his own weariness.
“We need to make another stab at finding something on Della Munroe,” Rouleau began, and explained what he’d uncovered with her family in Toronto.
“She’s done a good job covering her tracks,” Chalmers said. “It’s her word against a dead man’s. We’ve got no definitive forensics proof either way, but what we do have points to her innocence.”
“Will her sister testify?” Stonechild asked.
“Yes, but it won’t be enough.” Rouleau looked at her. She’d been eager to tell him something when she first came in, but he’d wanted to get this case out of the way first.
“We could bring Della in and grill her again,” Woodhouse said. “Get her to contradict what she told us. She must have tricked Brian into coming by the house and set the whole thing up.”
“She sounds like one sick fuck,” Chalmers said. He looked across at Stonechild. “Excuse my French,” he added.
Rouleau decided to ignore him. “Right, so what have you got on the Sampson murder? Stonechild?” He nodded at her.
“We might be on the wrong track with her too. Turns out she wasn’t having an affair, at least not in the front seat of a car. Jucinda Rivera told Wolf that Leah was getting it on in the car without actually seeing her. Jucinda based her story on black hair and a white blouse, but after pressing her she admitted that she didn’t believe it was Leah when she told Wolf. Jucinda appears to have wanted Wolf for herself.”
“Same outcome though,” Chalmers said. “Wolf and everyone believed she was having it on with a married man. The motive’s still there.”
“Except,” Kala said, “that it rules out the lover as a suspect since there wasn’t one, and it makes me wonder why Leah let everyone believe she was cheating. From all accounts, she was still in love with Wolf. Doesn’t add up.”
Chalmers’s voice got more forceful. “It adds up. She was cheating with somebody else and thought she’d been caught. She broke it off with the other guy and he got even.”
“There’s no proof she was,” insisted Stonechild. “Plus, why would this phantom lover torture her? What would be the point?” They locked eyes.
Chalmers smiled out of the side of his mouth. “Women are natural-born cheaters. Just ask Gundersund.”
The room went quiet. All eyes turned as one toward Gundersund. He looked at Chalmers. “Speaking of sick fucks.”
Rouleau stood. “That’s enough. Chalmers and Woodhouse, go back and re-interview everyone who knew the Munroes. Gundersund and Stonechild, carry on with your lines of enquiry. I have to fill in Heath.”
Rouleau watched them file out and shook his head. Chalmers had offered to stay on a few extra days rather than use up all his vacation. It would have been better if he’d taken the full two weeks before his official retirement kicked in. Maybe with his partner gone, Woodhouse would fall into line. Hopefully a new partner would spark something in Woodhouse. The problem was that now Rouleau had to find Chalmers’s replacement. Good recruits weren’t exactly lining up at the door. Vera had vetoed all the applicants so far. She was going to have to work some magic.
Rouleau made his nine a.m. meeting with Heath, who looked rested and wind-burned after his fishing trip. He listened to Rouleau’s debrief of the two cases without comment. After a suitable pause, he steepled his fingers under his chin and said, “Sounds like you have it all in hand. Would be good to make an arrest for the Sampson murder soon since whoever killed her and beat up Pankhurst appears to be ramping up. The Munroe killing is more contained within the family. I understand you haven’t found a house to your liking?”