LITMIR.BIZ

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“I’ll just get dressed and will follow you in my car. My wife needs to stay here with the baby.”

      “Take your time,” she said. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

      Hunter opened the door and hesitated at the sight of Kala on his doorstep. He held a tea towel and dried his hands as he invited her in. His eyes were wary.

      She took off her boots and followed him into the kitchen. Fabio padded over to the doorway to nuzzle her leg. She bent down to pet him and then straightened. She was startled to see six year old Charlotte Underwood sitting at the table, a forkful of pancake on its way to her mouth. Her violet eyes, so like her mother’s, fixed themselves on Kala’s face. She chewed with her mouth open.

      “Coffee?” asked Hunter, lifting the half-full pot and pointing it in Kala’s direction. The brew smelled deep-roasted and strong.

      She pulled her gaze away from the child and looked at Hunter. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I’m here with more bad news, although not as directly related to you as your father’s death.”

      Hunter turned and set the coffee pot on the stove. “Not again,” he said quietly.

      “Should we … perhaps it’s better if we go into the other room.”

      He nodded. “Charlotte, I’ll be right back.”

      Her red curls bobbed up and down. Fabio’s toenails click clicked as he made his way across the floor to flop down next to her swinging feet.

      In the living room, they stood near the window that looked out over the side yard. Kala was still trying to absorb Rouleau’s early morning call. First Tom Underwood and now an employee from his company. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Did Laurel and Hunter’s burgeoning friendship still fit into the puzzle?

      “Well?” Hunter asked.

      “We got a call around seven a.m. Benny Goldstone was found dead this morning by the cleaning staff at your father’s office.”

      Hunter looked out the window then back at Kala, his face empty of expression.

      “Do my sister and Max know?”

      “Sergeant Rouleau has gone to tell them. He sent me to let you know the news.”

      “And to see how I react.”

      “That too.”

      “This is … unbelievable. If it’s okay with you, I’ll pack up Charlotte and we’ll go over to Geraldine’s. I’ll try to reach Laurel from there.”

      “Where is Laurel?”

      “A spa in Chelsea. She needed some time away and I offered to take Charlotte. She is my half- sister, after all.” The corner of his mouth rose in a mocking grin.

      “Where’s Chelsea?”

      “In Quebec on the way to Wakefield. It’s about forty-five minutes from Ottawa.” He shook his head as if trying to shake away the craziness of her news. “Do you know how Benny died?”

      “He was bludgeoned to death, it looks like with an Inuit art sculpture from the lobby. J.P. Belliveau identified him.”

      “What time was he killed?”

      “It’s too early to tell, but he’d been dead a while when he was found. What time did Laurel drop off Charlotte?”

      Hunter frowned. He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. “It was nearly nine o’clock last night. Laurel decided on the spur of the moment around eight that she had to get away. She called me and made a reservation after I agreed to take Charlotte. Charlotte was ready for bed when Laurel phoned so she bundled her up and they arrived an hour later.”

      “This didn’t strike you as odd?”

      “The entire holiday season strikes me as odd. Laurel is grieving. I didn’t question her need to get away.”

      “Did you know Benny Goldstone?”

      “I’d met him a few times at my sister’s. Max would bring him around to family dinners.”

      “What did you think of him?”

      “He was socially awkward, always in the background and not saying much. I had no opinion about him one way or the other.”

      “Did Geraldine have any issues with Benny spending so much time with her husband?”

      Hunter glared at her. “Look, are you trying to say Geraldine had something to do with Benny’s death? Or maybe you’d rather I just admit that I killed him. Sounds like he died at work. Maybe that’s where you should be looking for the killer.”

      He avoided her eyes as he pushed past her to get to the kitchen. She could hear him calling for Charlotte to finish the last few bites of her pancake so they could go visit her new baby niece.

      Kala turned down the hallway to put on her boots. She told herself that the heaviness in her stomach had nothing to do with the coldness in his voice. Wasn’t it she who had warned him that he would feel differently about her by the end of the investigation? She turned as Charlotte came skipping down the hallway.

      “Hunter says we’re going to Geraldine’s house. He’s just got to take Fabio outside for a minute. I’m to put on my snowsuit and wait here.”

      “I’ll wait with you then. Is this your suit on the hook?”

      “The pink one.”

      “Of course. I’ve got it.” She handed the jacket and ski pants to Charlotte and smiled. “Let me know if you need help tying up your scarf.”

      “I can do it myself.” Charlotte stood motionless in front of her, eyes solemn. “Daddy’s not here to help me anymore and Mommy’s tired. She told me that I need to learn to do more things for myself. We’re going to move away soon.”

      “Oh?” Kala leaned forward.

      “Mommy doesn’t like our big house. Daddy didn’t like it either. He was going to move away too.”

      “He told you that?”

      Charlotte nodded. “He said he would always love me even if he and Mommy didn’t live together.”

      “When did he tell you this, Charlotte?”

      “When we went out with the lady he was going to live with. I wasn’t to tell Mommy.”

      “You kept the secret.”

      “I promised.”

      “Was he going to move in with Pauline?”

      Charlotte’s forehead scrunched up in a frown. “Who’s Pauline again?”

      Kala looked up. Hunter was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “All set to go, Charlotte?” he asked. “We don’t want to keep Officer Stonechild from her work.”

      Kala straightened. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

      She smiled at Charlotte and opened the door, noticing for the first time a milder wind blowing in from the south. The deep freeze was on its last legs as a mid-winter thaw began stealing into the Ottawa Valley. Kala stepped outside, happy to feel the shifting wind on her face as she thought about Tom Underwood and the woman he was prepared to leave home for.

      31

      Saturday, December 31, 3:00 p.m.

      They gathered mid-afternoon in Rouleau’s office. The sunlight poured like weak tea through slats in the venetian blind. It was the dead of winter, but the rising temperature was giving a brief respite from the frigid temperatures. The warmer air mass wouldn’t last long, but it was enough to raise their spirits.

      Kala took the chair near the wall away from the others. She was overheated in her turtleneck sweater and thermal undershirt and felt sweat dampening

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