Cold Mourning. Brenda Chapman
if I want to sleep in my own bed tonight. She’s been talking about this all week. I’ll have to give you directions, Kala. It’s just outside downtown.”
“West end, right?” asked Kala.
“I can drive you,” said Grayson looking across at her for the first time. “Where’re you staying?”
Kala glanced up at him. “I can make it on my own steam. I’ve got to figure the city out sooner or later.”
“Well, if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.”
The silence stretched awkwardly. Whelan smiled to himself. Rejection looked good on Grayson, who prided himself on his female conquests. Whelan reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone that was vibrating against his chest. He glanced at the screen. “Rouleau’s looking for us. I’ll just send him a message to meet us here.”
“Wonder how it went with the big F.U.,” said Malik. “The Chief’s nickname,” he explained in answer to Kala’s questioning stare. “When you hear Vermette talk, you’ll understand why.”
“Rouleau handles him okay,” said Whelan. “Don’t envy him that job.”
“That’s because no matter how hard the big F.U. pushes Rouleau, he doesn’t react. If it were me, I’d probably be up on aggravated assault charges by now.” Grayson stood. “Anyone want a refill while I’m up?”
Sandeep handed over his cup. “With cream, thanks.”
Whelan watched Grayson cross the room and spotted Rouleau. He’d entered while they were talking and was ordering food from the woman behind the counter. He might have believed Grayson’s bravado about Vermette if he hadn’t seen them all chummy in the bar recently.
Sandeep turned back to Kala. “I imagine you didn’t have to deal with the chain of command where you came from.”
“We still had to report up.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Wanted more experience in a different unit. I heard about this opening and the timing was right.”
Whelan nodded. “My partner followed his wife to Germany. She’s got some high tech job.”
Sandeep looked at Kala again. “Many murders up north?”
Kala smiled. “We had a murder once. Fellow killed his best friend in a hunting accident. Turned out the best friend was sleeping with this guy’s wife and he wasn’t too pleased. Other than that, we’ve got the usual drunk driving, B and E’s, people lost in the woods. Bears chasing people up trees.”
“You’re joking.”
“Yeah, bears can climb trees faster than most people so you’d have to be an idiot to think climbing a tree was going to save your hide. Maybe you should try a northern placement.”
“Not sure my wife would take to living in the wilds. She might be a match for the bears though.”
Whelan hoisted a forkful of egg into his mouth, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Probably for the moose, too.”
Rouleau slid into the seat next to Kala and took a bite of his fried egg sandwich. Grayson set down the coffee mugs and sat across from her. Rouleau drank from his coffee cup then looked around the table.
“So, today Whelan and Stonechild are going to find Tom Underwood. His welfare has become your raison d’être.”
“Ahead of finding who killed buddy homeless man?” asked Sandeep.
“Ahead of every case we’ve got on the go.”
“Since Underwood hasn’t been missing more than a day, I can only assume Vermette’s lost it completely,” said Grayson.
Rouleau grinned. “Not ours to question why my young friends.” He looked at Whelan and Stonechild. “Check in as you go. Keep good notes because this case seems important to Vermette. Let’s see if you can bring Tom Underwood home where he belongs in time for Christmas.”
6
Thursday, December 22, 10:30 a.m.
Kala rang the bell for the second time on the front door of the detached brick house and listened to it chime inside the house. They were deep in the new subdivision named Chapman Mills on Haileybury Street. The homes were so close together, people had to walk single file to get between them. It was hard to believe anyone liked living in a place where they couldn’t see the stars at night.
While she waited, she mapped out the area in her mind. Prince of Wales Drive, a major thoroughfare, separated Pauline Underwood’s Chapman Mills subdivision from the Rideau River and the wealthier homes where Pauline’s ex Tom and his new wife Laurel lived on Winding Way. It was about a ten minute drive between the two subdivisions. She glanced toward the street. No car parked in the driveway, so it was either in the attached garage that took up half of the house’s frontage or Pauline was away.
Through the thickness of the door, she heard footsteps coming down the hallway toward her. Kala motioned for Whelan to join her on the steps. Whelan snapped his cellphone shut and just made it to the top step as the door swung open. His eyes were worried.
“Everything okay?” Kala asked over her shoulder.
“Baby has cold and now a fever. Meghan’s going to take him to the doctor if it goes any higher.”
The door swung half-way open. A tall woman with white hair to her shoulders looked out, one hand resting on the door frame. Her brown eyes peered at them over half-moon glasses. She wore designer blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt sprinkled in red paint splatter.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Whelan held up his badge. “We’re from the Ottawa Police and would just like to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of your ex-husband.”
The former Mrs. Underwood raised a hand to her chest. “Thank God. He’s still just missing.… I thought you were going to tell me something horrible. Come in. Come in, please.” She swung the door open and stepped down the hallway. “We can sit in the kitchen if you don’t mind. The living room is in a state.”
Kala glanced into the living room on the way by. Drop cloths covered the furniture. The smell of fresh paint was strong. The fireplace wall was cranberry red and the rest of the walls were beige.
The hallway was lined with framed photographs of flowers, leading into a large, sunny kitchen with glass doors along one wall and a pine table directly in front. The oak cupboards and stainless steel appliances looked new. Several watercolour paintings filled one wall. Lake scenes and flowers. They gave the room a homey feel.
“Coffee?” asked Pauline Underwood, already crossing the space to the coffee maker. “I just put on a pot. I’m not sure why I made so much.” Her voice trailed away.
Kala met Whelan’s eyes. “Sure, that would be nice. Thank you,” she said.
They took seats at the table, Whelan at one end and Kala facing the window. The backyard was small and half filled by a raised cedar deck. Birdfeeders hung from the only tree. Pauline carried over a tray with mugs of coffee, cream, and sugar in a matching blue pottery pattern. She slid into a seat across from Kala.
“I know Tom’s missing. Our daughter Geraldine called me yesterday to find out if I’d heard from him. Laurel called earlier as well. We don’t talk on the phone as a rule.”
As agreed before they got out of the police car, Kala took the lead. “When was the last time you saw Tom?”
“Oh my, let me think. I’d have to say a month ago. I cooked a birthday dinner for Geraldine, and Tom came by for cake. Laurel had a headache and stayed home.” Pauline’s eyes met Kala’s before she looked down. The dark smudging under her eyes spoke of unquiet nights.
“How