Tumbled Graves. Brenda Chapman
leaving you alone so much. How about I find someone to be here to meet you after school?”
“You mean like a babysitter?”
“More like a housekeeper. They could get supper going and clean up. They’d be company until I get home.”
Dawn frowned. “Taiku’s all the company I need. I could get supper going if you tell me what you want to eat. I can tidy up too.”
Kala patted her leg through the blanket. “Have I told you what a great kid you are?” She paused. “I know how hard this has been for you and I’m sorry. I’ve never … I’m not used to looking after anyone but myself and you’ll have to be patient with me.”
“It’s okay.”
“I want you to know that I’m happy to have you with me for however long. You’re family. I also need to talk to you about your mom and Gil.”
“I know about their sentences.”
Kala tried to keep the surprise from her face. “Did somebody contact you?”
Dawn shook her head. “I searched their names in the news on Google. I’ve known for a few days. Are you sure that you want me to stay so long? They won’t be getting out for a long time. Neither will my real dad.”
Nothing about wanting to contact her mom. Kala wondered at the toughness of this child. The wounds must lie deep. She chose her words with care. “I want you here as long as you need me. We can help each other.”
Dawn looked at Kala. “Then we won’t be alone.”
“No, because we’ll have each other.”
Dawn was silent for several seconds. The flash of vulnerability disappeared from her face replaced by an empty stare. “Okay.” She picked up the book from her lap. “I want to finish this chapter before supper.” She lowered her head, effectively ending the conversation. Kala watched her for a moment. The timing never was going to be right. She asked, “Do you want to visit your parents? I can make arrangements.”
Dawn kept her head down. “No.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind, promise you’ll let me know.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Well, if you ever do.”
Kala went into the kitchen and checked the cupboards. Grilled cheese sandwiches seemed like the right comfort food. She’d heat up some frozen chicken and rice soup to go with them. She was thankful for those marathon weekends of cooking she’d done the month before. The fully stocked freezer had turned into a godsend.
While the soup thawed in a pot on the stove, Kala leaned against the counter and looked through the window over the sink at the night sky. Until now, Dawn hadn’t responded to any overtures to discuss the situation with her parents. It must mean something if she’d been searching out information on the Internet. She hadn’t shut off her feelings altogether. Dr. Lyman would tell her not to read too much into this, to be patient and let Dawn reach out in her own time. Easier said.
Kala took the block of cheddar from the fridge. Ivo Delaney’s face passed through her mind as she straightened and walked over to the counter. Had she been fooled by his mental illness? Her gut instinct had told her that he wasn’t a killer. Now … well now the evidence was all pointing at him. Something had to account for the way he’d butchered his wife’s stomach. Everything a killer did was driven by a reason, no matter how bizarre or twisted. Delaney would be no different. The work was to figure out the logic behind his behaviour. Hopefully, tomorrow Adele’s sister, Leanne Scott, would give them the key.
Kala thought about Adele Delaney as she stirred the soup, a familiar uneasiness keeping her from closing off the case in her mind. What were they missing? Why had she married a man with mental issues? She’d walked into the bank and picked him out of all the men in the world. An attractive, self-possessed woman had chosen to live with a mouse of a man in the middle of nowhere. He’d hacked up her stomach and thrown their daughter into the river. If she were looking at this from Delaney’s point of view, he was venting his rage on the part of her body that he hated most and the child they’d created. But why? Kala stood silently, holding the wooden spoon motionless in the air while she tried to make sense of the facts.
As if controlled by ESP, her cellphone buzzed from her handbag tossed onto the counter. She turned the heat down on the soup and grabbed the phone from the side pocket.
“Hello?”
“Kala, it’s Fiona Gundersund. Sorry to bother you so late.”
“I wasn’t doing anything much. How can I help you?”
“I think I’m the one who can help you. I was replaying the tape with my observations and something struck me as odd. I went back and had another look at Adele Delaney’s body and think you might be very interested in what I found.”
Kala listened closely and stood for a long time looking out the window after Fiona signed off from the call, running over the facts of the case through her mind. This new piece of the puzzle didn’t square with what they knew about the Delaney family. What they’d been led to believe about the marriage and the child.
They hadn’t been asking the right questions.
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