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Wednesday, December 28, 8:00 p.m.

It was nearly eight o’clock and dark and cold as any northern night in the dead of winter — a starless night with heavy cloud cover. Kala shivered in her red wool coat and decided to give one more pass around the apartment building before heading for her truck. It was her second evening patrolling the entranceways of two identical towers, the buildings next to the one where Glenda Martin had been assaulted. Kala was doing it on her own time without telling anyone, but only because she agreed with Rouleau that the guy was getting more dangerous. She didn’t want to think too deeply about the reason she wasn’t telling Rouleau about her after hours surveillance. He wouldn’t understand her need to work alone, to avoid being controlled. It was easier just to get on with the job until she had something to share. This way she could focus on the puzzle and not have to deal with the eternal bureaucracy. A couple of coats and hats from the Sally Ann gave her different disguises in case the perp was staking out the buildings. The trick was not to look like she was hanging around because that would tip him off that she was on the hunt.

A man exited the building ahead of her, and she tensed, ready for his approach, but he took an immediate right and got into a car idling in the visitor parking lot. The dropping temperatures appeared to be keeping nearly everyone indoors, even Grab ’n Go, the nickname Malik had given the suspect.

Kala walked slowly up the sidewalk, holding a grocery bag in her left hand and leaving her right hand free. He normally attacked from behind and her senses were on high alert. Somebody was coming up the path behind her. She entered the lobby and pretended to fumble with the bag, keeping herself turned away from the door.

“Need help?” a man asked.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “No, I just forgot something in my car and have to go get it. But thanks.”

She stepped back outside and checked her watch. Grab ’n Go didn’t appear to be on the prowl tonight. It was disappointing to have a second night coming up empty, but she wasn’t deterred. Stalking an animal quarry sometimes took days in the woods. Human targets demanded equal patience. The advantage she had over this serial predator was knowing he preferred hunting in his own back yard. He’d be back to his familiar hunting ground sooner or later.

She started toward her truck parked across Richmond Road in the Lincoln Fields parking lot. Finding Rosie was going to be a trickier business and she’d have to rely on a certain degree of luck. There was still time to cruise around the ByWard Market before packing it in for the night.

Kala spotted Grayson and Malik on her way in to the station at seven the next morning. She parked her truck and hurried after them. Malik held the front door open and waited for her to catch up. Grayson had already disappeared inside the building.

“You’re up bright and early,” she said to Malik, slightly out of breath.

“Rouleau called us at home around five a.m. to get over to the General and interview Susan Halliday.” He yawned. His breath came out in a stream of white frost. “I could have used another hour’s sleep.”

“The General?”

“Hospital. Halliday was found unconscious in the Gatineau Hills late yesterday afternoon.”

Kala stopped. “Is she okay?”

“She’s doing better than she was last night. We were able to speak with her for about ten minutes before the doctor told us we had to leave. She’s suffering from hypothermia and has some frostbite to her feet and hands.”

“Is this tied to Underwood’s murder?”

They’d begun walking down the hall toward the office. Malik lowered his voice when they stepped inside the main office.

“Not likely. Her Mazda was out of gas and had to be towed. She said it wouldn’t start so she started walking toward the main road. She was lucky a park ranger was on patrol or she wouldn’t have lasted the night.”

“What in the world was she doing out there?”

“Cross-country skiing. She said it was her favourite trail. She likes to go there during the week when there aren’t a lot of people around.”

Kala shook her head at the insanity of someone heading into the woods without checking their gas tank. “Craziness,” she said.

She left Malik and sat down at her desk. Something didn’t feel right. Susan hadn’t struck her as a stupid woman. She’d appeared logical and organized, not the type who would leave the city without checking if there was gas in the car.

Rouleau called them over for the morning briefing just after eight. They filled up their coffee mugs and gathered around the crime scene photos posted on the wall.

Grayson stood first to give the report on Susan Halliday. He read the details and ended with, “So no connection to Underwood’s murder. She was still a bit out of it this morning but blamed herself for going into the park without checking her gas gauge.” He shut his file and started back to his seat.

“Where was her husband when this happened?” Kala asked.

Grayson hesitated and looked around the group as if waiting for a better question. Finally, he looked toward her. “On his way home from the base in Trenton for a surprise visit. He arrived at their house shortly after six p.m. and was concerned to not find her there. He started checking around. The hospital called him less than an hour later. He was in her hospital room when we spoke with her.”

“Your thoughts, Stonechild?” asked Rouleau.

She forced herself to look away from Grayson’s stare. “It seems odd to me that a woman close to Underwood and his family has this kind of accident.”

“Shit happens,” said Grayson. “She’s an old woman who forgot to check the gas before heading out. She said as much in the hospital. You can’t go looking for a conspiracy theory when accidents happen.”

“Do you have anything to add?” Rouleau asked Kala.

“No.”

“If Susan Halliday admitted she was careless, we haven’t got reason to believe someone was trying to hurt her.” Rouleau smiled at her. “By the way, I’ve told Whelan he can have until the new year off. His wife has come down with the flu and with the new baby and the son in the hospital, he can’t be spared at home.”

“No problem, Sir,” said Kala. “Bennett and I can cover.”

“Good. I’d like you both to give Gage a hand going through the phone records and the documents on Underwood’s home and office computers. There’s a lot to go through and I’d like that wrapped up today.”

She nodded even though she’d just been demoted to the drudgery work.

Grayson shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. He said, “Gage found one email from Underwood to J.P. asking to meet the day before he died. Malik and I are going back to their office to talk to him about it.”

“I’m in meetings all morning but you can reach me on my cell if anything breaks. Stay in touch,” said Rouleau. He turned to Malik. “Any sign of Annie Littlewolf yet?”

“No, but the cops patrolling the ByWard Market are keeping an eye out. She’s not in her usual haunts. I’d like to think she’s visiting family for the holidays, but it’s not likely. We can swing by the Rideau Centre later if you like.”

“Let’s hope we get a lead on something today. We could use a break.”

Just before one o’clock, Kala stretched and turned her chair toward Bennett. “I’m going to an appointment and might have a slightly longer lunch hour than usual. If you and Gage can keep at this, I’ll stay late and finish up what you don’t get through.”

Bennett looked up from his computer screen. “Take your time. I’ll cover. I’ll stick around to help if it goes late.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

He looked up and smiled at her. “I know, but I want to.”

She found herself smiling back. “Call me if anything comes up.” She grabbed her coat and a stale doughnut from a box sitting on the filing cabinet as she headed out the door.

Twenty minutes later, she parked her truck in the General Hospital parking lot. She followed the trail of visitors through the sliding glass door at the front entrance and asked the woman at reception for Susan Halliday’s room number. She walked toward the elevator and watched the people streaming out of the open doors as it reached the ground floor. Clinton Halliday stepped off behind a woman dressed in green scrubs and a man in a wheelchair. Halliday was a hard man to miss with his buzz cut and wrestler body. He appeared to be alone and immediately snapped open his cellphone. Kala stepped back from the doors behind the other visitors until he’d passed by. For now, she’d rather he didn’t know she was there.

She got off on the fourth and slipped past the nurses’ station. The two nurses on the desk were busy working on charts and didn’t look up. She located the number to Susan’s private room half-way down the corridor and entered after a quick knock on the door that she hadn’t expected to be answered. She approached the bed. An I.V. bag hung on a pole dripping a clear liquid through a needle into Susan’s arm. Her hands lay on top of the sheet and were wrapped in gauze. Her eyes were closed.

Kala stood for a moment, uncertain whether to wake her. She was likely doped up on pain killers and it might be better to return later. Just as Kala decided to leave, Susan opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling. She turned her head slowly sideways and focussed on Kala. Her lips moved with effort.

“You’re the detective who came to our house.”

“Yes. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your accident. Do you feel up to it?”

Susan gave a small nod and Kala drew a chair close to the bed so that her head was at Susan’s eye level.

“Had you checked the gas level before you went into the Gatineau Hills?”

“No.”

“I find it odd that you would have set out on your own without making sure there was gas in the car. You don’t strike me as disorganized.”

“I get … confused sometimes. Forget things. I thought I’d filled it up last week. I must have been mistaken. I can’t even remember the warning bell go off.”

“Did you use a credit card?”

“I’m not sure.” Susan reached a bandaged hand toward the bedside table, then carefully placed it back onto the bed. “Clinton took my purse home for safekeeping. If I charged the gas, the receipt would be in my wallet.”

“Does Clinton drive your van?”

“Yes, but he’s been away all week.”

“Could someone have siphoned off the gas?”

Susan’s eyes widened as if she remembered something. She closed them quickly and her breathing became more laboured.

Kala stood and filled the water glass from a jug on the tray next to the bed. “Sip this,” she said. She helped to prop up Susan’s head so that she could swallow from the glass. Susan leaned back against the pillows.

“Do you feel better or should I ring for the nurse?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“What bothered you just now?” asked Kala, sitting back down in the chair.

Susan’s forehead furrowed in deep lines. “Tire tracks. There were tire tracks in the snow next to my van and footprints. I wondered who’d been there because I didn’t meet them on the trail.”

Her strength was weakening and Kala touched her shoulder. “You should sleep now. I’ll be back to talk when you feel better.”

Susan’s eyes had already closed as Kala backed away toward the door. She’d wanted to ask about Clinton and where he was that day but would have to wait until tomorrow for Susan’s response. In the meantime, she would try to find out on her own.

Kala pushed the door open and almost collided with Hunter Underwood as he pulled the door open from his side.

“Officer Stonechild,” he said, taking hold of her arm to steady her. “I think it’s time we talked.”