Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 4-Book Bundle. Brenda Chapman
sat on the side of the bed for a few moments to watch her baby sleeping. It was hard to believe this perfect little person came out of her. Giving birth could make you believe in miracles. It could make you want to stop drinking. She looked at Max’s tidy side of the bed and sighed. He’d called just after supper the night before to say that he’d be home late and would take the guest bedroom. He’d said it was so that he wouldn’t disturb her. He’d accomplished that feat because she hadn’t heard him come in. He planned to take today off. She wondered how long before he went out somewhere.
She sighed again and looked back at Amy Rose. It was amazing that she’d been conceived at all. Max’s initial interest in the bedroom had died off completely once she became pregnant. He’d said it was because of all the extra hours he was putting in at the office to prove himself. They’d laughed once about his body becoming like a worn out old tire. She knew deep down that he’d been pulling away from her. He’d spent more time with his assistant Benny than he had with her.
Geraldine stood up too quickly and swayed against the side of the bed as a wave of dizziness spread through her. It took a few seconds to regain her balance. It was as if she was drunk, but not on alcohol. She moved closer to the bassinet and looked down on Amy Rose. So innocent. So undeserving of this cruel world. She leaned forward so that her hair trailed onto Amy Rose’s blanket. The baby startled in her sleep, her eyelids fluttered as if she was dreaming. Geraldine held her breath and counted to ten. Amy Rose didn’t wake up. It was a good sign. She would still had time to shower and make tea before Max put in an appearance downstairs.
30
Saturday, December 31, 12:15 p.m.
Rouleau rang the doorbell and took a step back. He drew his coat tighter around his neck and cursed himself for forgetting his hat and scarf at the office. He hadn’t realized how low the temperature had dropped. He saw movement through the bevelled glass and it wasn’t long before Geraldine opened the door. She held a nearly empty cup of tea in one hand and a baby bottle of milk tucked under her arm. Her wet hair had left dark splotches on the shoulders of her bathrobe. She looked at Rouleau with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Yes, can I help you?” she asked.
He realized they’d never met even though he knew so much about her. She’d inherited more of her mother’s facial features than her father’s, but somehow in the new mixture, the beauty had been lost. Even her body was slightly out of proportion and too large to be feminine. He could imagine the childhood cruelties she had endured. He held up his ID. “Geraldine Oliver?”
She nodded.
“I need to speak with you. It’s not good news I’m afraid.”
“Of course, come in out of the cold.”
She didn’t wait for him to remove his boots but walked down the hallway as if his last sentence hadn’t registered. She called over her shoulder, “I was expecting my mother. She’s supposed to be coming to help with the baby today.”
He followed behind her into the kitchen. It was a newly done-over room, quite welcoming with pine cupboards and a sitting area arranged in front of patio windows. The smell of Earl Grey tea and baby formula mixed sweetly in the air. She slipped past him toward the hallway.
“I’ll just get Max, shall I? It’s almost lunch time and he should be up.” She disappeared from the room before he could respond.
Rouleau walked over to the window and looked out at the mounds of snow on the deck and the birds circling a feeder atop a pole further down in the yard. A squirrel was entrenched in the middle of the feeder, fending off his competition. He slowed his breathing and tried to get into the zen place Malik told him helped with stress. So far, he hadn’t mastered it.
Max Oliver took his time coming downstairs and into the kitchen. His hair was uncombed and his eyes were bleary from sleep but he’d put on jeans and a cable knit pullover. He held out a hand to Rouleau.
“Sergeant. Sorry, I was up late with the baby and took the opportunity to sleep in. I understand you have news?”
“Yes, sad news I’m afraid. You have an assistant, Benny Goldstone?”
“Yes.”
“When did you see him last?”
“We worked late last night on the project I was handed because of Tom’s death. The contract needed some tightening up and it took us until about eight o’clock. What’s this about?”
“Did you come home right afterwards?”
“No, I went for a few drinks and got home around midnight. Look, detective, I have no idea why you’re asking me this but …”
“The cleaners in your office building found Benny Goldstone dead this morning.”
“No.” Max’s face drained to the colour of paste. He clutched his chest and staggered back a step. “I … can’t believe … this.”
Geraldine appeared in the doorway. “What is it? Max, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s just that Benny …”
“Benny what?”
Rouleau heard the exasperation that had crept into her voice. She crossed her arms across her breasts.
“He’s dead,” said Max harshly. He turned back toward Rouleau. “Benny left the office before me. I don’t understand how this is possible.”
“Did you leave by the parking lot exit?”
“No. The main doors. My car was closer to the front of the building.”
“How far behind him were you?”
“About half an hour. I had a few calls to make.”
“So you left work around quarter to nine?”
“That’s right.” Max glanced at Geraldine. “I called Ger around seven to say I’d be late.”
“You never mentioned the part about going to a bar,” said Geraldine.
“I just needed to unwind after the baby and work. It’s been a busy week.”
“You didn’t hear or see anything unusual?” asked Rouleau. He directed his question to Max but kept his eyes on Geraldine. He found her rigid stance odd.
“Nothing. The front door was locked but I set the alarm before exiting. It’s always the last one to leave that sets it.”
“I thought you shared the building with doctors.”
“We do, but they leave by six. Plus they weren’t in over the holiday week. It’s understood that we set the alarm since we’re always there later. If we happen to leave early, we let one of their receptionists know. There’s never been a problem. Christ. How did he die?”
“It’s early to say, but it wasn’t an accident. Somebody killed him.”
“Just like Tom. My god.”
Geraldine moved closer to Rouleau. “It must mean their deaths are work-related. Perhaps it’s that project you’re working on. Daddy was working on the same one before he was murdered. Do you think it’s the same killer?”
“Again, it’s early yet to speculate,” said Rouleau. “Were you alone all evening?” he asked Geraldine.
“Yes, except for my baby.”
“J.P. Belliveau identified Benny,” Rouleau said.
“Benny’s mother lives in Sandy Hill on Stewart Street.” Max’s voice broke.
“Yes, we notified her half an hour ago. She should be at the police station now.”
“Could I … see him?”
“Just family at this point, I’m afraid.”