Tumbled Graves. Brenda Chapman

heard Bennett stumble and curse more than once.

      Five minutes into the woods her eyes spotted a patch of pink on a low-hanging bush. She stopped and parted the branches carefully. She reached for her camera to record what she’d found. If the piece of clothing wasn’t related to the missing woman and her daughter, all the better, but it was best to make a record just in case.

      “What have you got?” Bennett asked. He was so close that she felt his breath on her cheek when she turned her head.

      “Looks like a mitten. A child’s mitten.”

      He pulled back the branches while she took photos. Then he took the mitten from the bush with a gloved hand. They inspected it carefully.

      “It’s not been here long,” Kala said. “It’s too clean to have been subjected to the elements over winter.”

      “No, I’d say it was left here recently. It’s still damp, likely from yesterday’s rain.” He pulled out a plastic bag and inserted the mitten. “It could belong to a three-year-old. It’s the right size.”

      “The thing is, Ivo Delaney said his daughter never comes into the woods because she’s scared of them. If this is her mitten, how did it get here?”

      The smile disappeared from Bennett’s face. “This is turning damned weird.” He thought for a second. “Do you think he might have told you that to keep us from coming into the woods? Maybe he has something to hide.”

      “Let’s look around some more. Be careful not to disturb anything that you find.” She didn’t have to elaborate on what that might be. They were both thinking the same thing.

      Ten minutes later, they met on the path. “Nothing,” Kala said.

      “Me neither.”

      “Well, that’s a relief. Let’s keep going.”

      The path widened and walking was easier for the last five minutes leading to the river bank. With all of the melted snow over the past month, the creek was deeper and wider than it had looked on the map, just as Kala had predicted. She could see a current pulling the blackish water in a southerly direction toward Lake Ontario. Trees hung over the water, tangles of roots and brush making the terrain along the sloped bank difficult to negotiate.

      Bennett stepped closer to the water’s edge and looked upstream. “I think we should split up to save time.”

      “I’ll head downstream. We can meet back here in half an hour.”

      They separated and Kala followed the line of the river as best she could. It was slow going. She looked out over the water every few feet, checking for clothing or dark shapes bobbing in the water. She was crouched down, poking a stick under tree roots in the water to release what turned out to be a plastic bag when Bennett yelled. His voice startled her and one of her feet slid into the water before she caught her balance. She climbed back up the bank and pushed her way through the scrub and bushes to their starting point. Bennett was nowhere in sight.

      “Where are you?” she called.

      “Just over here.” His voice was closer, sounding like it came from around a short curve in the bank.

      She jumped over a fallen log and continued on through scraggly cedars until she saw his head above some bushes, further down the bank. She scrambled down the ridge to where he was kneeling. He reached a hand to steady her, then half turned and pointed to a clump of tree trunks standing in the water. Her breath stopped. “No.”

      The hood of a child’s pink raincoat was caught on a branch, bobbing up and down between two cedars. The bad feeling she’d had at the sight of the mitten in the bush was suddenly full blown. Kala looked at Bennett and pulled out her phone.

      “Rouleau will have to send out the dive team. Lots of daylight left.”

      Bennett stood and looked out over the water while she made the call. When Kala finished speaking with Rouleau, he said, “If the child is in the river, the mother must be too. You figure a murder-suicide?”

      “Maybe. Rouleau’s going to meet me back at the house to lead them here. You okay to keep watch?”

      “No problem.”

      “I’ll try to be quick.”

      “I won’t be going anywhere.”

      Chapter Seven

      Kala pulled into the only empty parking spot in front of Dr. Lyman’s office, a limestone building at the edge of the university campus. She threw the truck into park and quickly got out. Guilt pounded through her as she ran toward the front door. She’d let time get away from her as she stood watching divers plunge into the river searching for the bodies of Violet and possibly Adele Delaney. The search had stretched on without success and now she was a good forty minutes late picking up Dawn. She’d tried calling Dawn’s cell twice before leaving the Delaney property, but maddeningly the calls had gone to voice mail.

      The reception area was empty; the woman who answered the phones was not at her desk. Kala scanned the lounge, normally so inviting with pink and purple chairs and pale yellow walls lined with French impressionist prints. Now the vacant space felt like a rebuke. Had Dawn gotten tired of waiting and decided to walk home in the dark? No, it was much too far. Kala forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Nothing would be gained by imagining the worst. She had to think about this logically. She had to think like an upset thirteen-year-old girl.

      Dr. Lyman’s door was closed and Kala suddenly realized that in all probability Dawn was still inside with the counsellor. Dr. Lyman must have taken advantage of Kala’s tardiness to get in some more time with Dawn. Kala crossed the hall to stand in front of Dr. Lyman’s door with her hand raised. She hesitated. What if Dr. Lyman was in with another patient? What if Dawn was long gone? She squared her shoulders. There was only one way to find out. She rapped lightly on the door.

      The sound of a woman’s voice and the thump of footsteps carried through the door. It swung open in a sudden motion and Dr. Lyman was standing in front of her, a questioning look in her eyes. “Kala,” she said, a smile lighting up her face as she recognized Dawn’s aunt. She must have seen something in Kala’s face because she immediately asked, “Is everything okay? Stella and I were just going over some accounting since it’s that time of year.” She looked past Kala into the reception area. “Is Dawn waiting outside?”

      “I just got here. I haven’t seen her.”

      Dr. Lyman looked toward the woman sitting at the desk. “Did Dawn say anything to you about leaving, Stella?”

      “No. She said that her aunt was picking her up. I left her alone to come work on these books.”

      Dr. Lyman turned back to face Kala. “Oh dear. But she can’t have gotten far. We spent an extra ten minutes in session.”

      That meant Dawn had a half hour head start at the most. “Did she seem okay? I’d meant to call you this morning about her mom but the day got away from me.”

      “She was a little quiet today, more so than usual. What’s happened with her mother?”

      “Sentencing was yesterday. Her boyfriend got ten years and she got five. I was going to tell Dawn this morning at breakfast but we were running late. In fact, I’ve been running late the whole day.”

      Dr. Lyman’s eyes searched Kala’s face. She was a kindly woman, early sixties, tall but plump, with soft white hair. Kala had liked her instinctively. Hoped that she would be the lifeline for Dawn, but so far Dawn was just treading water. Dr. Lyman had suggested giving her space, but three months had passed without a breakthrough. Every day that went by made Kala doubt her ability to look after such a troubled child entering the teen years. Dawn was dealing with demons not unlike those she had faced herself not that long ago. Her own past should have given her insight. All it did was make her scared.

      “Dawn might have gone to catch a city bus. She’s quite self-sufficient, as we both know.”