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lights disappear from view. He would have liked to suggest they take their dogs for a walk down by the water, but Fiona had taken to dropping by unannounced. Until he finished the sessions with the marriage counsellor and continued with the divorce, he had to be careful not to give Fiona reason to get worked up. He was biding his time until she came around to accepting that the divorce was the only way to get on with their lives, as he had. A clean break would be better than this dragged-out ending that Fiona had insisted upon. No regret and no looking back. Stonechild’s cynical view of severing relationships would have been a fitting end to his marriage, even if he found the childhood that had led to her world view overwhelmingly sad. The difference was that he was an adult trying to get on with his life, while she’d been a kid with no life experience to know that not everyone let you down. Her words spoke of an absence of hope; he was only beginning to get some of his back.

      Kala still missed coming home and finding Dawn sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her. She’d only had custody of her niece part of a year but it had been enough time to get used to having her around. Now it was only Taiku who met her at the back door.

      “Hey, boy.” She bent and gave the dog’s back and head a good rub before opening the door wide to let him outside. “I’ll be out to join you in a minute.” She flicked on the wall switch and the kitchen sprang into light. She took a quick look around before crossing to the fridge and taking out a pot of stew she’d had the night before. Leftovers always tasted better the day after. She tucked the pot into the oven, turned on the heat, and grabbed her warmer jacket from the hook behind the back door.

      Taiku was sniffing around the back steps when she stepped outside. He waited for her to walk down the steps and bounded in front of her across the lawn toward the lake. Kala knew the way even in the darkness, but tonight the sky was clear and the moon and stars gave the night air a silvery sheen. They walked along the shoreline, the damp breeze blowing back Kala’s hair and cooling her face. The beach was filled with rounded stones of different sizes and she stepped carefully until she reached a flat rock that made a comfortable seat. She sat cross-legged and let herself relax into the rhythm of the waves striking the shore. The night was scented with autumn richness and she breathed deeply, letting the calm of the night air fill her soul. Taiku lay next to her, his warm body pressing against her thigh as if sensing that she needed him nearby.

      Gundersund’s words had hit closer to home than she had admitted to him. She hadn’t told him how many times she’d driven to Dawn’s school to see her, only to drive past without stopping. Once, a month after Dawn had been taken from her, she’d phoned the number that the child care worker had given her. A woman named Colette finally had answered, but after Kala told her who she was, the woman’s voice had lost its welcome. “Dawn is just beginning to settle in,” she’d said. “This might not be a good time to re-enter her life. Perhaps in a few weeks I could get back in touch with you. We need to go carefully, as you know. She’s had so much upheaval.”

      Colette had never called back. Kala had backed away except for her weekly trips past Dawn’s school that felt like a pathetic inability to let go.

      Kala thought about Jane Thompson and the sad mess she’d made of her life. Had she been biding her time in prison to kill the boy who’d put her there? Was she a woman bent on revenge? Kala knew Jane Thompson was the logical choice for Devon’s murder given her recent release from prison. Had her release set somebody else into motion? Tomorrow, she and Gundersund would start to fill in the blank spaces. She was going to need to be rested and clear-headed to figure out relationships and motives. She’d keep Jane as a possible suspect but not the only suspect.

      “Time to head back.” She reached down and ruffled Taiku’s silky head. “No answers for us out here tonight.” The stew would be warm and she was suddenly hungry. Supper and a hot shower would hit the spot, and hopefully a dreamless sleep would find her soon afterward.

      CHAPTER SIX

      Gundersund slid into the front seat and handed Kala a travel mug, keeping a second one for himself. “My way of saying thanks for picking me up,” he said. “Did you get Rouleau’s email?”

      She inhaled the smell of roasted coffee and took a sip before saying, “He’s going to speak with the Etons while Woodhouse and Bennett go door to door. You and I start with Jane Thompson’s sister, Sandra Salvo, before we carry out interviews at the school.”

      “I take that as a yes.”

      “Sorry. I meant yes.” She smiled and set the mug in the cup holder and began backing out of the driveway. She stopped the truck before backing onto the main road and looked over at him. He appeared to have had a rough night, the scar on his cheek redder than usual against his pale skin. He’d tried to tame his blond curls but not quite succeeded. Gundersund would have been a Viking back in the day — a giant man with unruly locks and scarred face. She forced herself back from an image of him on the prow of a dragon boat. “Did you get Sandra’s address?”

      “She’s in a new subdivision in the east end on Rose Abbey Drive.”

      “I wonder why Jane didn’t move in with her sister when she was released.”

      “Good question. We’ll have to ask her.”

      Sandra’s house was a taupe and brown two-storey with double garage on a street tightly lined with similar homes. A plump woman with grey-blond hair to her waist opened the door before they had a chance to knock. She looked past them as if searching for somebody before hustling them into the hallway. A black cat with frostbitten ears nearly made it through their legs and outside to freedom, but Sandra slammed the door shut in time.

      “Popcorn tries to get out every chance he gets. You’d think he hates living here.” She laughed and held out her hand. “I’m Sandra. Thanks for coming by. Going into the station would have been problematic for me.” She led them into the kitchen, which fed into a family room. Kala blinked. Two babies were crawling around a penned-in area and three more pint-size children were eating cereal at the kitchen table.

      Sandra jumped when the doorbell rang and a relieved smile crossed her face. “My helper just arrived. We can meet in the den once I let her in.”

      Gundersund looked at Kala and mouthed, “Why Jane chose to live elsewhere.”

      The den was a cramped room with a desk and office chair taking up half of the space, and two leather chairs in front of a window that looked into the neighbour’s kitchen, where Kala saw a man in a housecoat pouring a cup of coffee. Two walls of Sandra’s den were lined with bookcases overflowing with paperbacks. Kala and Gundersund squeezed past the desk and sat in the leather chairs to wait for Sandra.

      “Doesn’t look much like her sister,” Gundersund said. “She appears to be a lot more wholesome. Do you want to take the lead on this one?”

      “If you like.”

      A baby’s crying filled the house but didn’t last long. Sandra appeared a moment later and shut the door. She took the desk chair and rolled it a few feet toward them. “Sorry about that. Luckily, two of the kids are home sick today and I get three more four-year-olds at lunch hour, and even though my second helper shows up at eleven thirty, as I explained to your sergeant, this really is the best time for us to meet. Now, I believe you have questions about my sister, Jane?”

      Kala glanced at Gundersund and back at Sandra. “Are you aware that Devon Eton was murdered two nights ago?”

      “Of course. I read the paper but I haven’t spoken to Jane about it, as you requested. I can assure you though that she didn’t do it.”

      “How can you be so certain?”

      “Jane didn’t hate him, although I must say that I would have in her shoes. I mean he was responsible for ruining her life.”

      “You don’t agree that Devon was the victim?”

      “Jane is not a child rapist nor is she a killer.”

      “Did you speak with Jane by phone on Monday night?”

      “Yes.

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