Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Brenda Chapman

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      Cover

      

Cold Mourning

      Dedication

      For Ted Weagle — Love Always

      1995 — Prologue

      Sunny had been crouching in the tall grass for what felt like a very long time. After Lily left, she’d flattened out a little burrow and huddled into the dank earth that smelled of earthworms and rotting leaves, turning around and round like her dog Rascal getting his bed ready for a long sleep. Finally satisfied, she’d squirmed into herself, knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped around her skinny legs. She’d kept motionless while the wind rustled the grass around her like garter snakes slithering through the underbrush. She’d crouched there long enough for the sunlight to fade from dazzling hot to a pale golden yellow. Long enough for her legs to go from tingly to numb.

      But still Lily did not come.

      What was it Lily had whispered to her just before she stood to face the woods at the far end of the field? “Don’t stand up and don’t make a sound. Do not move until I come back for you. I will come back for you, Sun.” The last words were a hot breath of promise against her cheek.

      She’d nodded and felt the warm pressure of Lily’s hand on her head. Lily’s fingers had tangled in her hair, but she hadn’t made a peep, not even when Lily pulled her hand too quickly away, yanking with it several strands. She’d listened to Lily pushing her way through the thick reeds until the sound of her feet squelching through the mucky dirt had faded, leaving only the soft whoosh of the wind through the grass and the water tumbling over rocks on its way downstream. She’d fought back the panic, the need to stand up and scream at the top of her lungs for Lily to come back, not to leave her behind. She was really alone then, with her thudding heart and burning lungs — reminders of their frantic run through the brush along the slippery riverbank.

      Almost instantly, mosquitoes had buzzed around her head and tracked their way to her arms, getting worse later as the sun started to go down. Her sweater had kept most of them from biting, but not all. She’d tucked her hands between her knees and pulled her jeans lower over bare ankles, keeping her eyes tightly shut, pressed into her pant leg. From time to time, she’d lifted her head just enough to see the edge of the sky above the grass. Then she’d lowered her forehead back onto her pant leg and squeezed her eyes shut. Even when sharp stalks of grass had rubbed against her face, she’d stayed motionless, letting the fear buzz unchecked in her stomach like the flies circling her head.

      She could only guess at the time as the afternoon emptied into early evening. Her belly had grumbled in hunger. She’d needed to pee, but she’d stayed in place. At some point, she dozed.

      The sun was just above the tree line when she opened her eyes again, not sure at first where she was or why she was there. She’d been dreaming that her mother’s arms were tight around her. Safe, warm arms with gentle hands attached that rubbed up and down her back. She’d known it was just a dream though, even half-asleep. She could barely remember having a mother let alone the feel of gentle hands on her back.

      A noise ricocheted across the field above the sound of the river and the wind in the trees. It was the crack of a tree branch further up the bank and off to her right. Sleep disappeared and her senses screeched onto high alert. Questions jumbled in her head. Was someone coming through the tall grass toward her? Was Lily on her way to find her? Hope filled her, but only for a moment.

      Lily should be coming from the other direction. She’d be walking silent as a cat, never giving herself away. It couldn’t be Lily.

      The girl lifted her head just enough to see the sky above the grass and listened, testing the air like a frightened rabbit. Then she dropped her chin again and pulled herself into a tighter ball. Footsteps were coming closer, crunching through the grass like a monster in a bad dream. A whimper rose up her throat but she held it in, squeezing her eyes tighter.

      He’d followed them. The man with the unblinking eyes that had looked at her and Lily like they were garbage. She’d known he would come. Lily had said he wouldn’t give up easily. Lily, she screamed in her head. Lily, come save me! She scrunched her face harder into the rough denim of her jeans.

      The footsteps stopped above on the incline, not far from her hiding place. She imagined him raising his head and sniffing the air like one of those hunting dogs, trying to smell out her and Lily. He’d be even angrier now. He’d be thinking of all those unspeakable things he’d promised when he’d had them in the back of his van. She squeezed her eyes tighter, willing him to follow Lily’s trail up through the field to the forest.

      If only they hadn’t taken his offer of a ride. If only she hadn’t leapt ahead of Lily into the open door to sit in the back seat. She’d known it was wrong to ignore Lily when she shook her head not to get in the van, but she’d been angry with Lily for bossing her around all afternoon. Doing what she wanted for once was a little victory, and for a few minutes it had felt good to sit and not have to walk one more step in her cheap, too tight shoes.

      Lily’s eyes had darted between her and the man and he’d smiled at her hesitation before he shrugged and started to slide the door shut. That was when Lily had pushed her way past him and into the back seat next to her, landing with a flounce and sigh that was all Lily. She’d reached across the space between them into Sunny’s bag of jujubes and taken a handful, stuffing them into her mouth and chewing slowly, all the while pinning her with accusing eyes.

      “I’m tired, Lil,” she’d said by way of explanation. Already she regretted her weakness that brought them into the back seat. Her stomach was filled with a hum of worry she couldn’t still. “My feet hurt.” The last sentence came out grumpy.

      “We could have called Roger to come get us,” Lily said. Her voice was soft, without blame. It would have been better if Lily had been angry. This quiet Lily was unsettling.

      “I’m sorry, Lil.” She passed her bag of jujubes over to Lily to take the last. She’d saved the black ones but didn’t feel right eating them now. Lily took two and handed the bag back to her.

      “Just don’t tell Roger we took this ride. He won’t like it.”

      Their attention was drawn to the front seat. The man cleared his throat loudly as he pulled onto the highway. He reached over and fiddled with the radio until he found a country station. Then he lit a cigarette and started humming along to the music. Every so often, his eyes would be looking at them in the rear-view mirror.

      She could feel Lily hunching down lower in the seat beside her. The ride hadn’t been too bad so far, and she’d relaxed, turning her head to look out the window at the houses flying past. It would be okay. They were going to be home soon and Lily would forgive her.

      That was before the man started talking.

      “You little girls like to go riding with strangers?” he asked.

      His voice was fake friendly like the people in the last home Sunny had lived in. She swivelled her head slowly around to look at Lily. Lily had lowered her head and tucked her chin into the fabric of her shirt. Neither of them said anything. They sat very still. The man lit another cigarette. It bobbed up and down between his lips as he spoke, the smoke drifting into the back seat in a white haze.

      “I mean, look at the two of you. No sense between you. Why, a man might think you were asking to get fucked. I just don’t know what it is with sweet young things these days. Leading a man on. Jumping into his van. Good girls woulda known better.”

      She’d stopped understanding then. His words got uglier and faster and Lily reached for her hand until she couldn’t tell who was squeezing harder. They were driving out of town the right way and then the man turned onto a road she didn’t know. She didn’t recognize the last of the houses they passed before the woods and the brilliant blue glimpses of river that replaced them. The man’s eyes in the mirror were long past friendly.

      “You’re