Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Brenda Chapman

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Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 2-Book Bundle - Brenda Chapman A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery

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about his relationship with his children?” Kala asked.

      “Well, Geraldine and Tom were very close. She adored him and he couldn’t say no to her. She was always awkward and self-conscious but Tom didn’t see any of that. He was proud of her. He couldn’t see how much pain she was in. The truth of it was that Geraldine had trouble making friends and was depressed all through her teen years.” Susan’s voice broke and she struggled to control her emotions. After a moment, she said, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a shock. Tom and Hunter weren’t close but it seems like they were starting to reconnect. We were hopeful, and now he’s dead.” Her voice trailed away.

      “I know this is difficult,” said Kala gently. “It might help if you could tell me why Tom and Hunter were at odds.”

      The major interrupted, “Again I must ask, is this of any value? A disagreement from so many years ago surely has no bearing on this case.”

      “I won’t know that until all the facts are in,” replied Kala. “The more I know, the better I can piece together what led to Mr. Underwood’s death.”

      “I hate talking about them,” said Susan with sudden vehemence. “It just feels like gossiping about something that happened a long time ago. I can’t think that it will help find who killed Tom.”

      Clinton shifted his stance. “For Christ’s sake, Susan, tell her. She’s going to find out from someone.”

      Susan turned sideways to look at her husband before she glanced at Kala. Her eyes focused on a point above Kala’s head. “You see, Hunter brought Laurel home from university to meet his family and Tom … well, he slept with her. The dirty little secret is that Tom left his wife for their son’s fiancée.”

      “The man had no sense of duty to his family. Some might say, his past trespasses came back and killed him. It was retribution,” Clinton said.

      “Really, Clinton, I don’t think now is the time to start judging. What Tom did was a long time ago and everybody paid. Even Laurel.”

      A deep red suffused upward from his collar. “Why would you say Laurel paid? She married more money than she could ever spend and secured her fortune by giving birth to that kid Charlotte.”

      “Laurel was weak. She chose money over happiness with Hunter. In the end, her decision left everyone miserable. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m still not well from the flu and really have to lie down. I should never have gotten out of bed.”

      “Of course,” said Kala, standing at the same time as Susan. “I’m sorry to have come at such a bad time. If I have more questions, I’ll phone or come by when you’re feeling better.” She dropped a card with her office phone number on the table, nodded in the major’s direction before following Susan from the room.

      Kala bent down to lace up her boots and watched Susan disappear up the stairwell, a feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. Susan’s bombshell explained a lot about the tensions running through the Underwood family. It told a lot about Tom Underwood’s character and the reason somebody might want him dead.

      Susan Halliday woke from a dreamless sleep to a darkened bedroom. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was, but the confusion was fleeting. Lately, she was becoming more and more unsure of her surroundings upon wakening, often believing herself to be a young girl again in her parents’ home. Once, she even thought her brother Roddy was sitting in the chair waiting for her, but it had been many years since they lived in the same house. She wondered if the confusion in her mind was a sign of things to come. Alzheimer’s ran in her family and odds were not in her favour. So far she’d avoided speaking with her doctor about her vague symptoms. She was waiting for something more concrete before sharing her fears.

      The bed springs creaked and her heart jumped. She kept her body still. She took a deep breath and turned her head toward her husband. He was a dark outline leaning against the headboard.

      “Clinton. How long have you been sitting there?” she asked.

      “Half an hour.”

      “I didn’t hear you come in.”

      “I got lonely downstairs. It’s Christmas Eve after all.”

      She heard him swallow and then ice cubes clink against glass. Oh no. Keep him talking. “I thought the officer was nice, considering why she came,” she said. She turned on her side and propped herself up on the pillow, her head resting on her elbow so she could watch him.

      He looked down at her. “You were home that night?”

      “Of course. Why would you ask?”

      “I called and you didn’t answer the phone.”

      “What time was that? I was home all evening,” she paused, “except when I went for a walk. But I wasn’t gone long.”

      “Long enough. I tried calling for an hour and then gave up.”

      “I’m sorry, Clinton. If you’d said you planned to call, I would have waited at home.”

      He grunted and took another drink from his glass. She could smell rye from where she lay. His hand reached down and his fingers pulled a lock of her hair. She closed her eyes.

      “I’ve got a present for you,” he said. “Just a bit lower.”

      He tightened his hand in her hair and pulled her face toward his hip. Her cheek felt the skin of his leg and her mouth grazed his penis. She pulled away and pushed herself up with one hand until she was half sitting.

      “Clinton, I’m not feeling well. I’m not up for this tonight.”

      He laughed. “Well, I’m up for it. I’m sure you noticed.” He laughed again. “It’s your wifely duty to spread your legs more than once a month, or have you forgotten?”

      “I just haven’t been well this month. I need some time.”

      “And I need some ass.”

      He grabbed her head and pulled her level. His mouth found hers and he forced it open until his tongue filled her mouth. She tasted rye and garlic. She tried to push him away, but he had her against the headboard. His hand worked under her nightgown, snaking up her stomach and squeezing her nipples. The pain was sharp and tears started in the corners of her eyes. Still his mouth kept pummelling hers as his tongue darted in and out. He pulled away as suddenly and roughly pushed her lower in the bed. His breathing was raspy and excited. He forced her onto her side, her face away from him. She felt his erection pressing against her back.

      “All I want is what you promised to give me when you signed the marriage contract,” he said. “If you want it this way so you can pretend to be somewhere else, no fucking problem.”

      She felt the first thrust rip through her and couldn’t stop the scream that rose up her throat. It excited him even more. His breath was hot in her ear.

      “You like it rough,” he whispered. “You like it this way, my little Suzy. Wake up little Suzy. Wake up my sweet … little … Suzy.”

      He flipped her onto her back and she bit with all her might into the pillow just as the full weight of him pushed deep inside her, again and again while she kept on screaming inside her head in a place

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