Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 5-Book Bundle. Brenda Chapman

by laughter almost drowned out the guitar player in the corner.

      “I see my friend,” she said.

      Rouleau was sitting with his back to the wall and rose at her approach. She noticed that he’d taken off his tie and suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He smiled as she slid into the chair across from him.

      “I phoned and reserved a table, otherwise, we never would’ve gotten in.”

      She looked around. “The whole market is crazy with people. New Year’s Eve at home was never like this.”

      “I imagine not. I took the liberty of ordering a few appetizers. What would you like to drink?”

      “Soda and cranberry.”

      He signalled for the waitress and placed her order. He already had a glass of red wine in front of him. “So it looks like we’re spending the major holidays together.”

      “Our paths do seem to be crossing.” She smiled. “How was the reception?”

      “Good.” He paused. “My ex-wife remarried this afternoon. She asked me to attend and I did it for her.” He drank deeply from his glass.

      “That must have been hard.”

      “It was the least I could do.”

      “You still care for her.”

      He shrugged. “I had my chance. If I could pass on any advice, it would be not to let the job take over. You can lose too much.” He smiled wryly although his eyes were sad. She found herself liking him at that moment, a wounded man who didn’t wallow in it.

      They both leaned back as the waitress set down a plate of steaming mussels and crusty bread. They nodded at each other and dug in.

      “These are wonderful,” said Kala. “I love seafood.” Wine and garlic broth dripped from her lips onto the napkin. She reached for another mussel.

      “I was just hoping you weren’t allergic. I have some paté and finger food coming just in case. So what did you want to tell me about the case?”

      “I discovered something interesting today. Tom Underwood and Susan Halliday have been having an affair for the past year. They were planning to leave their spouses.”

      Rouleau stopped with a piece of bread in mid-air and looked at her. “Who else knew?”

      “That’s the thing. Susan believes nobody, but I can think of a few who would be very displeased if they did.”

      “Their spouses.”

      “I went back through the interviews. If Laurel believed Tom was leaving her, no matter for whom, she might have wanted to ensure her lifestyle by getting rid of him. It gets confusing though when you add in the attack on Susan as well as Benny’s murder. Why would Laurel want to hurt them? If she knew about Susan and Tom, she might have wanted revenge. But Benny? I just don’t know.”

      “What do you propose to do next?”

      “I’ve thought all along that Susan Halliday is key, and I still think so. This may be nothing, but when we last interviewed Laurel, she said that if we found out what made Tom change his behaviour the last while, we’d find out who killed him. If I believe what Susan told me, it was because they’d fallen in love and he was going to change his life for her. I’d like to keep her under surveillance. Whoever emptied her gas tank and left her in the Gatineau Hills to freeze to death will probably try again. There’s so much going on beneath the surface with these people, I just don’t know who to trust.” She thought of Hunter and Laurel and the times she’d found them together, the awful feeling she got being around Clinton, Max, and Benny and their obvious connection.

      “We don’t have a big enough team.”

      “Bennett, Gage, and I can cover. Whelan will be back in a few days. Grayson and Malik can continue with the work angle.”

      “I wish it were that simple. Vermette’s not going to okay protection on Susan. I can guarantee it. Grayson has J.P. Belliveau in his sights and won’t give that up easily, especially to go on surveillance. I’m not even certain that he should because Belliveau remains a prime suspect. We need to keep pursuing the work angle, especially since Underwood and Goldstone were in the same office, working on the same project.”

      Kala kept her eyes on the food and didn’t say anything.

      “I know this isn’t how you like working, but red tape takes priority, and that includes answering to Vermette and those above him. Believe me, there are days I’d like to go maverick too.” Rouleau sounded tired.

      She looked across the table at him. “I just think we’re missing an opportunity. Clinton is leaving for the base tomorrow and if it’s him, the window is small.”

      “You mean, for Clinton to do something to Susan? But we don’t even know for sure that it’s him.”

      “But he’s also a very real candidate. I just feel that something bad is going to happen to her. She’s keeping secrets. I think she knows more than she’s saying.”

      “Take Bennett and go see her early in the day. Let Clinton know we’re watching. That’s the best we can do without some evidence.”

      “Thanks, Sir.”

      “Whelan will be back on the second and life will get back to normal. We’ll resume our supporting role for Major Crimes and you’ll have a chance to settle in for real.”

      “Beginning with media training.”

      “Beginning with media training.” He smiled and his green eyes lightened a shade. “I think I’m going to be apologizing for that for quite some time.” He looked over her shoulder. “I see more food coming. Hope you’re hungry.”

      “Always.”

      “Then let’s eat our way into the new year.”

      “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

      33

      Sunday, January 1, 11:00 a.m.

      Susan Halliday looked across at Officer Stonechild and her sidekick, the young good-looking officer with the cleft chin. She met their gazes head on, no flinching or dropping of eyes. She knew why they’d come. Eleven o’clock on New Year’s morning and they acted like it was a routine call. She wondered if Clinton would realize they were here to make sure he returned to Trenton base without doing her in. They were already too late to make sure he didn’t hurt her. She instinctively raised her left hand to rub her arm but kept her hand moving up to her hair, which she pretended to pat into place. She hoped they didn’t notice how little she was using her right arm. The shoulder was swollen and hurt to move from where Clinton had gripped her in a rage the night before.

      Clinton stood from his spot next to her on the couch. “Well, if you don’t have any more questions for me, I have to pack. I’m expected back at the base this afternoon.”

      “Your uniforms are pressed and hanging in the spare room, darling,” said Susan.

      “Thank you,” he said smiling down at her. “You’re the best wife a man could ask for.” He bent and kissed the top of her head.

      She smiled up at him, playing the role he expected. She’d learned it was better to pretend to forgive him than to let him know how much he’d hurt her. If she stood up to him now, he’d make her pay later, in private.

      They watched him leave the room with his stilted military gait. Officer Stonechild waited a few beats before asking for the tea Susan had offered at their arrival. Susan wondered how she was going to manage a tray as she agreed to put the kettle on.

      “Sit,” said the young officer. “I’ll go make it while you two have a chat. That is, if you don’t mind?”

      “That would be lovely. The teabags are in a blue canister next to the