Butterfly Kills. Brenda Chapman

Kala looked down the hallway and into the living room at the Inuit paintings on the wall above a wood fireplace. She remembered them from her last visit.

      They took plates of stew, homemade dinner rolls, and a pot of tea to the back deck and settled themselves at the patio table. Marjory lit a camp lantern and candles while Kala poured the tea. Taiku flopped down at Kala’s feet and stretched out with a grunt. The distant sound of waves rolling onto the shore soothed something in Kala’s soul, like a faithful friend waiting to be rediscovered.

      “This is so good,” Kala chewed a spoonful of stew. She ate quickly, ravenous from hours in the truck and the energy used to comprehend the crime scene. The evening had gotten away on her. The nervous anticipation in the pit of her stomach when the murder call came in, the surge of adrenaline that always accompanied the first glimpse of a killer’s trail had kept her from thinking about her own needs until this moment relaxing on the deck with Marjory.

      “You went to see Ray?” Marjory asked.

      “Yeah. We flew in and canoed Sand Lakes. It took about a month. Your dad’s doing well for a guy in his seventies.”

      “Ray didn’t tell me why you were heading back this way.”

      “Just tying up loose ends.”

      “Ray told me that you found Rosie in Ottawa.”

      “That’s right. I was looking for her in Ottawa last year when I came to see you.” Kala had forgotten that she’d told Marjory. Now she wished she hadn’t because Rosie hadn’t cared enough to stick around once they’d made contact. The rejection still hurt.

      “You call her Lily, don’t you?”

      “Yeah. Rosie is Lily to me. She used to call me Sunny.” Kala grinned. “Hard to believe, I know.”

      “Ray said she’s got a daughter.”

      Kala nodded. “A twelve-year-old girl named Dawn. Nice kid. Lily’s involved with some guy who did time for robbery. They disappeared after I made contact.” She was silent, reliving the moment when she discovered them gone; the moment her dream of having a family evaporated like morning mist.

      Marjory shook her head. “Lily’s picked a difficult path. You must have found it hard to lose her so soon after finding her.”

      Kala nodded again but didn’t say anything.

      Marjory dropped her head and Kala knew she was deciding whether to keep going or leave the subject alone. Her dad, Ray, wouldn’t have said much, she knew that. Marjory raised her black eyes to Kala’s. They were kind eyes, non-judgmental eyes, the reason Kala had returned for a visit at Ray’s urging. Marjory nodded as if telling herself to let it go.

      “Ray and I had that falling out when I left Birdtail Rez to follow Tommy Lightside to Winnipeg. I was just sixteen years old — thirty years ago if you can believe it. God, I thought I knew it all back then, and man, was I wrong. It took a few years but I went back home and Ray … Dad was still there, waiting. He’s why I got on track and finished high school. I never would have gotten the law degree if I’d stayed with Tommy.”

      “I know what you’re trying to tell me,” Kala said. “It’s not going to happen in this case. Lily won’t be looking to change her life anytime soon.”

      “People have a way of coming around. Lily knows you’re there for her when she needs you. She still keeps in contact with Ray, if only sporadically. He’s there for her too.”

      “I wouldn’t put any money on Lily.” Kala wasn’t prepared to talk about her any longer.

      Marjory took the hint. “So, where are you planning to go when you leave here?” she asked. She refilled their mugs with tea and settled back against the cushions.

      “Back to Red Rock, although I’m not sure that’s even a good idea.”

      “Why not?”

      “It’s complicated, but the man I was seeing has moved on.” Moved on back to his wife and baby. “I just don’t want to stir up what’s best left alone.” Kala put her fork down and leaned over to pet Taiku’s head. “I guess Taiku and I’ll stay here and house-sit until you finish your research up north. This might be the space I need to figure things out.”

      “Well now, that would be a help to me. I’ll be on the road a lot these next few years and worry about leaving this place empty.”

      “I’ll just commit to the next month if that’s okay with you. I’ll be here in November when you return but can’t promise anything longer.”

      “Fair enough.”

      Marjory lowered her head to eat but not before Kala saw a smile turn up the corners of her lips. Kala picked up her fork and dug it into the warm stew. With a slight nod in Marjory’s direction she acknowledged Marjory and Ray’s small victory of manipulating her into this decision before tucking into the last of her meal.

      An hour later, Kala settled into the back bedroom on the second floor. She’d slept here on her one previous visit and was happy to be back in this small room with its casement window and window seat looking out over the water. She propped herself up on the cushions for a while, letting the day’s events settle and her mind decompress until she felt that she could sleep. Taiku appeared to also have remembered being in this room on their one and only visit. He’d immediately stretched out on the hooked rug at the foot of the bed, snorted a long sigh, and fallen asleep.

      Kala reached across and opened the window as wide as it would go. The wind rushed in as if it had been lurking outside, waiting for an invitation. It blew the hair back from her face and billowed the curtains around her. It filled her nostrils and lungs. No matter how difficult her day had been, the wind always made her feel connected to something bigger than herself. It brought her a measure of peace.

      She stepped back and slipped out of her clothes, then climbed naked between the crisp sheets on the double brass bed. She lay awake a while longer, listening to the waves lap onto the shore as she began to drift off to sleep. Rouleau’s concerned face, strong and sure, hovered above her just out of reach as she finally let go of the day.

      Chapter Nine

      Dalal took her sister’s hand and gently traced the lifeline carved into her small palm. They lay side by side in the hammock between the two fir trees, rocking gently in their cooling shade and the swaying light that slipped like liquid gold through the leaves.

      “You will have a long life, Meeza, and I see two boyfriends in your future. One will be tall and rich and the other will be a poor, handsome boy who truly loves you. You will be very happy if you follow your heart.”

      Dalal pulled her hand away and let her arm rest across her forehead. Her long black hair was tied back with a purple silk scarf. It was desperately hot but they both wore skirts to their ankles and long-sleeved blouses.

      Meeza giggled and ran her index finger along the line her sister had just traced. “Do you think I will live with you and your husband when I get married? I don’t think I’d want to be in a house if you aren’t there.” Her eyes changed like quicksilver, from dancing stars to pools of misery.

      Dalal lowered her arm and grabbed Meeza’s hand firmly in hers. “Don’t worry, little sister. I won’t ever leave you. Besides, you are only twelve years old and we’ll be living together for a long time yet.”

      “But you’re fifteen and so much older than me.”

      “Fifteen in six months. I have three more years of high school before I go to college. I’ll probably still have to live at home even then.”

      She didn’t dare think about the work it was going to take to convince her father to let her study to become a nurse. Already she’d begun dropping hints. Nobody had said no to her wishes and she took this as a good sign.

      “I don’t like it when people leave.” Meeza pouted and moved her leg away from Dalal’s.