Tumbled Graves. Brenda Chapman

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Tumbled Graves - Brenda Chapman A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery

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news. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to give Dr. Lyman a call in the morning to seek her advice. Even better if she could convince the counsellor to break the news to Dawn herself.

      Kala stood and called for Taiku to come. A cold wind blew back her hair and made her shiver inside the blanket. She could hear the distant roar of waves slapping the shore at the far end of the property. This guardian role that she’d agreed to take on was filled with landmines. One wrong word, gesture, look could topple the delicate relationship she’d managed to keep going the past few months since the night she’d picked up Dawn from the police station. In some ways, that night felt like a lifetime ago; in other ways, the sight of Dawn’s bruised face and terrified eyes could have happened yesterday.

      “There you are, Taiku,” she said as his nails clattered up the cedar steps. “Let’s get some sleep before the night gets away. We have another busy one tomorrow.”

      Sergeant Jacques Rouleau hefted his father’s battered leather suitcase into the trunk of his car and hurried around to the driver’s side. His father, Henri, was already inside, belted into the passenger seat.

      “All set,” Rouleau said. “Got your train ticket?”

      “I do.” His father patted his breast pocket. His thick white hair was newly trimmed and he was wearing his good black coat. He’d tucked a silk cravat the colour of a robin’s egg around his neck. “And it’s not too late for me to order a cab. You need to get into the office.” He squinted through the front windshield. “Nice to see some spring sun for a change.”

      “Work can wait half an hour, Dad.” Rouleau put on his sunglasses before pulling out of the condo parking lot. He turned right onto Ontario Street then left onto Brock, a one-way that would merge onto Division. Division was a main road that led past the police station to the train depot closer to Highway 401. The trip would take under half an hour this time of the morning. He put the heater on low to take the chill out of the car. By mid-morning the temperature would climb and he’d have the windows open.

      “Will I be seeing you on the weekend?”

      Rouleau felt that he should nod, but knew he had no way of knowing. “We got a report yesterday about a woman and her daughter gone missing. It could be nothing or it could turn into a major case. I might not be able to get away this weekend.”

      “Well, I’ve taken a suite at the Delta on Lyon in case you can make it.”

      Rouleau felt the weight of his father’s sharp blue gaze without turning his head. “You really need to spend the next few weeks rooting around in Library and Archives, Dad? I worry that this might be too much so soon after your surgery.”

      “I do, and you shouldn’t worry because I don’t. The doctor says I’m fine to resume my normal routine.” He paused. “Since I’ll be in Ottawa anyway, I’ll probably go visit Frances. Anything you want me to pass along?”

      “No.”

      His father’s voice got softer. “You can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening, Jacques. She’ll want to see you.”

      Rouleau felt the tightening in his chest that would soon have him sucking in air like a fish. He worked to control his breathing. He checked the rear-view and glanced toward his father. Henri was now staring straight ahead, his elbow resting on the armrest, bearing his weight. The pain in Rouleau’s chest eased. “I’ll try to make it, Dad. I just can’t guarantee anything with the woman missing.”

      “Well, I’ll be there a couple of weeks. Offer stands.”

      “I’ll come to Ottawa if I have time.”

      “Can I count on that, Son?”

      “All I can do is promise you that I will try.”

      Chapter Five

      The team was waiting for Rouleau in the small meeting room when he arrived fifteen minutes late. Someone had brought in doughnuts and everyone had a mug of coffee. He selected a Boston cream from the nearly empty box and sat in the chair at the head of the table they’d left vacant for him.

      “Caught in traffic?” Gundersund asked, smile tugging at his lips. Even on the worst days, Kingston roads were not an issue this time of the morning.

      “I see you’ve managed to fill in the time without me,” Rouleau said before biting into the doughnut. He chewed and then asked, “Any word on the missing woman and child?”

      “Nothing,” Gundersund said. “Stonechild called this morning and spoke with the husband, Ivo Delaney.”

      Rouleau saw Stonechild fix her eyes on Gundersund. He knew what she was thinking. Gundersund would be wise to let her speak for herself. “Delaney didn’t hear from his wife overnight?” Rouleau deliberately turned to face Stonechild.

      She stared back. “Nothing. He was up all night.”

      Zack Woodhouse was sitting across from Stonechild, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his potbelly. “Or at least that’s what he told you. He probably has a better idea where she is than he’s letting on.”

      “We haven’t ruled that out yet.”

      Rouleau picked up the file and read through Gundersund’s report of their visit to the Delaney house. The others silently drank their coffee and waited. Rouleau looked across at Gundersund. “No sign of a struggle and her car still in the driveway. Breakfast on the table uneaten and the front door open as if they left in haste.” He was speaking aloud, sorting the facts and wondering at their significance. “You checked the woods?”

      “Just the perimeter. It was getting dark when we finished inside the house.”

      “Although unlikely, we need to make sure they aren’t wandering around lost. Stonechild, take Bennett and Woodhouse and have another look around the property. See if Mr. Delaney sticks to his story. Talk to the neighbour again and see if she can provide more information about the Delaney marriage. I’ll pull in someone to check out the airport and the train and bus stations.” He looked back at the notes. “She has a sister named Leanne Scott who lives in Gananoque. Can you follow up with her, Gundersund? It’s a short drive. Might be good to talk to her in person.”

      “Right.”

      “I could get the Amber Alert in motion, but if the child is with her mother, and we have no reason to believe otherwise, an alert appears premature. So far this is baffling and worrisome, but not criminal. It’s quiet right now so we may as well move on this one until somebody hears from Adele Delaney. I’ll be in court this morning testifying on the Mendelson case but keep me informed by text.”

      Four heads tipped in unison.

      Rouleau watched them file out. Nobody had bought into a crime yet, but they were definitely intrigued. Even Woodhouse moved more quickly than usual. He was infamous for dogging it but Rouleau had hopes that Woodhouse would turn around now that his partner Ed Chalmers was retired. Andrew Bennett had replaced him, a bright young cop from the Ottawa force who wouldn’t be satisfied skirting over investigations and taking shortcuts. Already Bennett had asked to be partnered with Stonechild. They’d worked a case together in Ottawa and he liked her investigative skills, could learn from them, at least that was the reason he gave for wanting to work with her again. Rouleau doubted that was the only reason. If Stonechild knew that Bennett

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