this alone. No need for two of us to go all that way.” Grayson said.
Rouleau fixed his eyes on Grayson. “Stonechild has had the most dealing with the family. It’s time she branched into the business end of his life so she can help us put the pieces together.”
Kala listened uncomfortably to the exchange. What Rouleau said made sense but he wasn’t making her any friends. Malik shifted in his chair and caught her glance. He seemed to be sending her a warning.
Rouleau looked around. “So what’s everyone waiting for? You know what you have to do.”
“Right, Sir,” said Kala. She stood with the others and walked out of the room ahead of Malik. Grayson stayed behind.
Malik caught up to her as she was putting on her coat. “Rouleau asked me to give you this information on Archambault.” He handed over a thick file. “I wrote a one-pager on top with the highlights.”
“Thanks.”
Grayson passed them with his head down, heading in a straight line to his desk. He dropped into his chair and picked up the phone, punched in a number, and swivelled the chair so his back was to the room. Malik followed the direction of Kala’s gaze.
“He’s a good detective but doesn’t share well. Don’t let him get to you.”
She turned toward Malik to respond but he was already on the way back to his desk. “Great,” she said to herself before she sat down and opened up the file.
She willed Grayson to get off the phone soon so they could get this trip over with. The two-and-a-half-hour drive to Montreal would eat up the day, but if they got back in time she could make another visit to the ByWard Market. The feeling she was running out of time was becoming so strong that it was all she could do not to just chuck this job and spend all her waking hours looking for her cousin. Yet a feeling of dread wasn’t a good enough reason to let Rouleau down. She felt like she owed him something and the feeling didn’t sit well. She never liked to be in debt to anyone — or attached either, but his sadness was a magnet. She could see the loss in his eyes when he thought nobody was looking.
Susan left Geraldine and Pauline after two cups of coffee and three homemade sugar cookies. It was the first food she’d eaten since Clinton made her poached eggs and toast the evening before. Her strength was returning but still fragile, feeling as if a good wind would blow her away.
She walked through the blocks of houses back toward her home, passing her street to reach the Jock River, a smaller river that fed into the Rideau. She started down the pathway that split off from the road, careful to set her feet in tracks made by others ahead of her.
She loved this city with its three major waterways, web of bike paths, and unexpected forests. During the coming summer, she’d walk the length of the canal, taking time to sit under her favourite oak tree at Dow’s Lake before climbing the hill to the Central Experimental Farm. She’d linger in the gardens and sit on the stone bench by the shallow rectangular pool, watching the plump goldfish pass lazily through the veil of tangled plants. The police said they’d found Tom there. Not by the pond but close by in the visitor parking lot, hidden in the trunk of his car. She couldn’t let the image take shape in her mind. The strength in his hands, the mind that never stopped, the energy that verged on hyperactive — she still couldn’t believe the essence of him had been extinguished. Surely, he was just taking a break from the world and would call her one day when he was ready.
She let her feet take her down the slippery incline, the path trampled by cross-country skiers and dog walkers. Clouds were moving in fast, already hiding the sun. The shadows turned the river dark and dangerous. Further out, she saw breaks in the ice where the current churned without end. She stood well back on the path, watching the shifting ice and bluish shadows in crevices of ice and snow.
She thought back to the first time she’d seen Tom Underwood. She’d been in grade nine, new to the west end neighbourhood. Her older sister Rhonda let her tag along to the Britannia Theatre to see a matinee. It was an Elvis Presley movie and she’d begged to be allowed to go. They’d only lived in their townhouse a few weeks but Rhonda already had a circle of friends and seemed to know everybody in the new school. She was outgoing and popular while Susan was ill at ease with people. She always thought they were judging her and seeing the flaws she saw in herself.
They’d paid for their tickets and walked into the lobby, a cavernous, noisy room decorated in red and purple with giant movie posters covering the walls. Tom was there with two other boys who walked over to say hello to Rhonda. He’d stood out from the others, even then. Black hair and blue eyes that saw everything, and a self-assured swagger that let you know he was going places. She’d felt something inside shift when she’d looked at him. It was a dazzling lightness in her chest that she’d never experienced before. The intensity of her feelings frightened her, but in a good way. He’d barely looked in her direction, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d watched the back of his head three rows in front for the entire movie.
The boys had left while she waited for Rhonda outside the washroom. It wasn’t until they were walking home that she’d asked Rhonda who he was.
“Tom Underwood. He’s in my math class,” Rhonda had said. “He thinks he’s really something.”
“Maybe he is,” Susan had said without thinking.
Rhonda had stopped walking to stare at her. “He’s not the kind of guy you should go for. He’s too good looking and self-centred to be true.”
“As if he’d ever look at me twice.” She said it to keep Rhonda from guessing her true feelings.
Weeks sped by. She made friends with Pauline Green. They were both on the girls’ volleyball team and walked home after practice together. They both liked sports, weren’t doing well in school, and both wanted to be movie stars. Susan couldn’t believe someone as popular and pretty as Pauline Green would want to be her friend. Up until then, she’d only been allowed on the fringes of the in crowd — not a full fledged member, but not one of the complete losers either. Pauline liked having her around for reasons known only to Pauline.
The first dance of the year was being put on by student council. It was the week before Halloween. Susan shyly told Pauline that she liked a boy in her sister’s class and he’d probably be at the dance.
“What’s his name?” asked Pauline. She was tall and slim with large breasts and dark hair that she wore long and straight.
“Tom Underwood,” said Susan. Just saying his name made her feel hot and flushed. She immediately regretted sharing the name that made her heart beat fast; the face she saw just before falling asleep.
“I know Tom,” said Pauline, linking her arm through Susan’s. “I’ll introduce you.”
Susan hadn’t known Pauline well enough to be wary.
She wasn’t able to sleep the night before the dance. She kept running over and over in her mind what she would say when Pauline introduced her to Tom. She felt like she was going to meet her destiny.
The gods must have been laughing up their sleeves.
Pauline told her a month later on the way home from school that she and Tom started seeing each other the weekend before the dance. They’d met in the parking lot of Dunkin’ Donuts on Carling Avenue, and he’d told her she was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. She got into his car and they drove around until he found a dark spot in the empty
