expecting her to announce her departure for some time, but had felt helpless to change the situation.
They walked side by side down the hallway and he left her at the door to their office, continuing on toward Heath’s office for a command debrief so that Heath could face the media for the nine o’clock news. At this rate, Rouleau thought, I’ll be lucky to make it home for supper before Dad has himself tucked in for the night. As usual, the first hours of a murder investigation would fill every waking hour, but this was the time Rouleau liked best. The thrill of the hunt was fresh, the trail still warm, and the slow-going slog of following up on leads that led nowhere hadn’t started to grind the team down yet.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gundersund looked across at Stonechild as he pulled on his seat belt. “Thanks for the lift. My car will be ready tomorrow afternoon.”
“I can pick you up again in the morning. What time?”
“Seven thirty works. We can head directly to the school to start interviews and I’ll grab a cab to get my car at some point before the shop closes.”
“Okay.”
She drove along the waterfront heading out of town, past the spot where Devon Eton’s body had been found. Shafts of sunlight blinded them as the sun had descended to a point just above the treetops. The morning wind had stilled and the waves rolled gently onto the beach.
Gundersund wondered whether to tell Stonechild that he’d seen her niece the day before when he’d driven past Frontenac Secondary School. Kala hadn’t wanted to talk about Dawn after Child Services had taken her away, but he knew she was hurting. He decided to give it a shot. “I drove by Dawn’s school yesterday and saw her in the yard. She seemed well.” He looked out his side window so Stonechild wouldn’t think he was watching for her reaction.
“Was she alone?”
“She was with a couple of girls, probably from her class.”
“That’s good.”
They were silent for a moment. Gundersund asked as casually as he could, “Are you planning to see her?” This time, he turned his head to look at her. He could see the muscle working in her cheek. She lifted one hand from the steering wheel to push her sunglasses further up her nose.
“I think she’s better off if I don’t interfere in her life. A clean break always works best.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“Yeah, I do. As a kid who moved homes at least every year, I know it’s easier if you don’t look back.”
She’d never spoken about her childhood before. Gundersund knew it had been bad. He’d read the Marci Stokes article in the Whig about her years homeless and drunk on the Sudbury streets. “Perhaps it would have helped if someone had made an effort to keep in touch with you.”
“But they didn’t.”
“And that was a shame.”
“Maybe … and maybe they did me a favour.”
They passed the Kingston Penitentiary, closed for some time, the inmates moved to other locations where they were crammed in like sardines, if media could be believed. The road wound northwest past large older homes with glimpses of the river down the hill. Shadows filled the spaces as the sun continued its descent. Ten minutes later, they reached the turnoff to their side road.
“I’ve got more experience with this kind of separation thing,” she said as if fifteen minutes hadn’t elapsed since his last comment. “And I turned out just fine.”
“You did.” He hesitated. “But you are not without issues.”
She laughed. “No, I’ve got my share, but then again, so do you and you had a normal two-parent upbringing.” She glanced over at him.
He could see her point and smiled back. “Touché.”
They reached his driveway and she pulled in, stopping halfway. He opened his door and set one foot on the ground, his elbow resting on his knee. “Thanks for the lift, Stonechild. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Bright and early.”
Gundersund walked slowly toward his front door, turning before the steps to watch her truck’s tail 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
