Читать книгу Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 4-Book Bundle - Brenda Chapman - Страница 34

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.”

“Max is like Benny’s immediate family, isn’t that right, Max?” asked Geraldine. “They were as close as brothers.”

“I suppose I could take you to see him.”

Max straightened his shoulders. “I’ll just get dressed and will follow you in my car. My wife needs to stay here with the baby.”

“Take your time,” she said. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Hunter opened the door and hesitated at the sight of Kala on his doorstep. He held a tea towel and dried his hands as he invited her in. His eyes were wary.

She took off her boots and followed him into the kitchen. Fabio padded over to the doorway to nuzzle her leg. She bent down to pet him and then straightened. She was startled to see six year old Charlotte Underwood sitting at the table, a forkful of pancake on its way to her mouth. Her violet eyes, so like her mother’s, fixed themselves on Kala’s face. She chewed with her mouth open.

“Coffee?” asked Hunter, lifting the half-full pot and pointing it in Kala’s direction. The brew smelled deep-roasted and strong.

She pulled her gaze away from the child and looked at Hunter. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I’m here with more bad news, although not as directly related to you as your father’s death.”

Hunter turned and set the coffee pot on the stove. “Not again,” he said quietly.

“Should we … perhaps it’s better if we go into the other room.”

He nodded. “Charlotte, I’ll be right back.”

Her red curls bobbed up and down. Fabio’s toenails click clicked as he made his way across the floor to flop down next to her swinging feet.

In the living room, they stood near the window that looked out over the side yard. Kala was still trying to absorb Rouleau’s early morning call. First Tom Underwood and now an employee from his company. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Did Laurel and Hunter’s burgeoning friendship still fit into the puzzle?

“Well?” Hunter asked.

“We got a call around seven a.m. Benny Goldstone was found dead this morning by the cleaning staff at your father’s office.”

Hunter looked out the window then back at Kala, his face empty of expression.

“Do my sister and Max know?”

“Sergeant Rouleau has gone to tell them. He sent me to let you know the news.”

“And to see how I react.”

“That too.”

“This is … unbelievable. If it’s okay with you, I’ll pack up Charlotte and we’ll go over to Geraldine’s. I’ll try to reach Laurel from there.”

“Where is Laurel?”

“A spa in Chelsea. She needed some time away and I offered to take Charlotte. She is my half- sister, after all.” The corner of his mouth rose in a mocking grin.

“Where’s Chelsea?”

“In Quebec on the way to Wakefield. It’s about forty-five minutes from Ottawa.” He shook his head as if trying to shake away the craziness of her news. “Do you know how Benny died?”

“He was bludgeoned to death, it looks like with an Inuit art sculpture from the lobby. J.P. Belliveau identified him.”

“What time was he killed?”

“It’s too early to tell, but he’d been dead a while when he was found. What time did Laurel drop off Charlotte?”

Hunter frowned. He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. “It was nearly nine o’clock last night. Laurel decided on the spur of the moment around eight that she had to get away. She called me and made a reservation after I agreed to take Charlotte. Charlotte was ready for bed when Laurel phoned so she bundled her up and they arrived an hour later.”

“This didn’t strike you as odd?”

“The entire holiday season strikes me as odd. Laurel is grieving. I didn’t question her need to get away.”

“Did you know Benny Goldstone?”

“I’d met him a few times at my sister’s. Max would bring him around to family dinners.”

“What did you think of him?”

“He was socially awkward, always in the background and not saying much. I had no opinion about him one way or the other.”

“Did Geraldine have any issues with Benny spending so much time with her husband?”

Hunter glared at her. “Look, are you trying to say Geraldine had something to do with Benny’s death? Or maybe you’d rather I just admit that I killed him. Sounds like he died at work. Maybe that’s where you should be looking for the killer.”

He avoided her eyes as he pushed past her to get to the kitchen. She could hear him calling for Charlotte to finish the last few bites of her pancake so they could go visit her new baby niece.

Kala turned down the hallway to put on her boots. She told herself that the heaviness in her stomach had nothing to do with the coldness in his voice. Wasn’t it she who had warned him that he would feel differently about her by the end of the investigation? She turned as Charlotte came skipping down the hallway.

“Hunter says we’re going to Geraldine’s house. He’s just got to take Fabio outside for a minute. I’m to put on my snowsuit and wait here.”

“I’ll wait with you then. Is this your suit on the hook?”

“The pink one.”

“Of course. I’ve got it.” She handed the jacket and ski pants to Charlotte and smiled. “Let me know if you need help tying up your scarf.”

“I can do it myself.” Charlotte stood motionless in front of her, eyes solemn. “Daddy’s not here to help me anymore and Mommy’s tired. She told me that I need to learn to do more things for myself. We’re going to move away soon.”

“Oh?” Kala leaned forward.

“Mommy doesn’t like our big house. Daddy didn’t like it either. He was going to move away too.”

“He told you that?”

Charlotte nodded. “He said he would always love me even if he and Mommy didn’t live together.”

“When did he tell you this, Charlotte?”

“When we went out with the lady he was going to live with. I wasn’t to tell Mommy.”

“You kept the secret.”

“I promised.”

“Was he going to move in with Pauline?”

Charlotte’s forehead scrunched up in a frown. “Who’s Pauline again?”

Kala looked up. Hunter was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “All set to go, Charlotte?” he asked. “We don’t want to keep Officer Stonechild from her work.”

Kala straightened. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

She smiled at Charlotte and opened the door, noticing for the first time a milder wind blowing in from the south. The deep freeze was on its last legs as a mid-winter thaw began stealing into the Ottawa Valley. Kala stepped outside, happy to feel the shifting wind on her face as she thought about Tom Underwood and the woman he was prepared to leave home for.