“She’s white and we found her on a snowy day in October. It seemed appropriate.” If Hannah had to rename the snowball, she’d call her Blizzard.
“I’ll give her that, she’s one tenacious little thing on four legs.” As much as he shook the toy, Snowflake wouldn’t let go of it. “How’s your son, Hannah? Is he hurt?”
Intrigued by the use of her given name, she watched their game. “He has strep throat and a light fever, but he’s getting better. Why?” Surely Fred hadn’t sent an officer to monitor Rory’s recovery.
“I saw blood on the snow, and it trailed from your shed to the house. When you answered with a rifle, I thought something might have happened.” The ghost of a smile softened his chiseled face. “By the way, pointing a gun at a policeman is never a good idea.”
A fire she’d extinguished long ago sparked embers in her belly, betraying her loneliness. “I had a visitor again last night.”
“Another note?” He let go of the octopus. When Snowflake retreated with it in front of the fireplace, he stood.
“Not a note. A fox.” His brows shot up, and she chuckled at the dubious look he gave her. “At least I can do something with a dead mammal. Let me check on my son, then I’ll show you.”
Once she ascertained Rory was fast asleep, she donned her winter coat and boots. With Snowflake guarding the house, she invited the constable to follow her outside. He towered over her by a head, but unlike Reed or Cooper, he didn’t look down at her.
“What brought you here this morning, Constable Stone?”
“I’ve been looking at the four notes, and I wanted to ask you a few questions.” His gaze traveled behind the shed where she’d hung the animal to a nail by its hind legs. “Someone left you a bloody carcass?”
“Snowflake scratched at the door around two a.m. When I checked outside, I found the fox on the sill. As far as I could see, there was no one outside. I threw the body in the snow and cleaned the mess.” While Rory had seen many dead animals in his short life, their blood didn’t belong on the porch or the floor. “I’m not sure why, but I was expecting whoever tried to scare me to come back and pick it up, so I wouldn’t have any proof of the incident.”
Stone slowly nodded. “Someone wants you gone, Hannah. Any idea why?”
Over the winter, one reason had crossed her mind, but it couldn’t be. No one was aware of her secret.
“I live alone with my son in the middle of the woods on land that belongs to the government. I’m no threat to anyone, Officer.”
“Please, call me Avery.”
The request took her by surprise. “Avery,” she said tentatively. “Am I pronouncing it right?”
“Yes. And you have a lovely voice. I cannot begin to imagine the mental discipline it must take to be able to read my lips so efficiently.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. The lack of sleep combined with Rory’s sickness and the discovery of the dead animal had taken its toll. The wall she’d erected between her heart and the outside world fell like a house of cards at the compliment. Mad at herself for showing weakness, she swept the back of her mitt across her face. “I didn’t become deaf until I was in my teens. I remember how to speak.”
“I’m still impressed.” He turned his attention to the fox. Grabbing a paw, he spun it around. “May I take the carcass?”
“Why?” The rusty red fur was beautiful. She’d planned on skinning the mammal and tanning the pelt to make moccasins for Rory, like Gramp had taught her.
“If I can determine how the animal was killed, it may give me a lead.”
“The left front paw is broken and the skull is crushed.” As she spoke, he examined the leg, then the head. “It looks like the fox was trapped alive then clobbered to death.”
“So I’m looking for a trapper?”
The way his eyes narrowed made his words look more like a question than a statement, but she couldn’t be certain. “There are three kinds of trappers around here, Offi—Avery. The ones that trap with a permit, the ones that trap without a permit, and the ones that steal other trappers’ prey. And the three categories encompass most of the population of Mooseland.”
“I see.” He let go of the animal. “We didn’t get any snow last night. It’s possible he left a trail this time. Would you mind if I look around?”
That the culprit had grown bolder worried her, but she refused to let fear rule her life, not after it ruined her childhood. “You’re really taking the threats against me seriously?”
A gleam of hurt flickered in his eyes, rekindling the hope that someone cared. “Yes. Would there be a safe place where you and your son could stay until I get to the bottom of it?”
“This is my home.” Once Freddy learned about the fox, he was bound to insist she came to live with him, but he had a life and a high-maintenance girlfriend. She and Rory weren’t his responsibility. “I’ll be fine.”
Besides, she knew how to defend herself and wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
***
Alone at the detachment, Lee stared in disgust at the bottle of beer discarded in the garbage can.
This is going to the lab for analysis.
He picked it up and placed it in an evidence bag.
Sharing the same rank as Stone was an insult. The demoted constable belonged in the drunk tank, not in a uniform. The pathetic loser didn’t possess any more honor or discipline than Abbott. Lee would enjoy watching Stone fall prey to Hannah and lose his last flake of integrity.
How dare she turn me down like I’m not good enough for her?
After her husband’s disappearance in the fall, Terri had approached him. Abbott had cheated on her, and she’d enlisted Lee’s help to find and destroy the proof of his betrayal. Lee had found an envelope taped under the second drawer of Abbott’s desk. The content of the letter hadn’t shocked him as much as it’d angered him.
Lee unlocked his top drawer. Palm up, he slipped his hand inside, grazing the upper panel. Tingling pleasure rushed to the tips of his fingers. The envelope with the negative results tucked inside was still there, taped underneath his desktop. He should have burned the evidence like he’d promised Terri, but Parker needed to be taught a lesson. The letter gave him the perfect leverage to bring her down to her knees. In due time, Parker would beg him not to reveal her false accusations and blacken her tarnished reputation.
How stupid of her for not anticipating that Abbott would demand a DNA test before acknowledging the bastard.
Then again, she wasn’t the crispiest cookie in the oven.
Lucky for her, Lee would tame her—one way or another.
Chapter Ten
A fox and a Foxy. Both dead.
This is starting to resemble a bad joke.
Unsure what to make of the coincidence, Avery entered the basement of Pike’s clinic. “Hello, Doc.”
“Constable.” Dr. Fred looked too jovial for someone cutting his clients apart. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”
“Call me Stone.” It rang better than
constable
.
The stripper lying naked on the stainless steel table had been dead over twelve hours. Her body should have revealed some answers by now, and Avery was eager to hear them.
“Did you finish the postmortem?”
“She died of a stab wound to the neck, but I’m afraid your murder weapon melted.”
Avery sighed, showing his frustration. “Tell me something I
don’t
know.”
The medical examiner slipped on a pair of latex gloves and rolled the cadaver sideways. “Point of entry is here.” He pointed a finger at a hole surrounded by bluish skin. “The angle is consistent with an icicle dropping from the roof as she tilted her head forward to light up a cigarette.”
“You’re telling me she was at the wrong place at the wrong time?” Cigarette butts had littered the snow around the body, but the timing of her demise was still too convenient.
Fred repositioned Foxy on her back then covered her with a white sheet. “No bruises, no scratches, no sign of struggle or sexual activity in the hours preceding her death.”
“Is it possible someone sneaked up from behind and stabbed her?”
“Anything is possible, Stone, but from a medical point of view, I found nothing to support murder.”
But nothing to rule it out either.
“Tox screen?”
“I sent it to the lab. I’ll know in about a week, but I wouldn’t pin any hope on the results. Even if she tests positive, the drugs are unlikely to have caused her death. If anything, the presence of illegal substances may have dulled her reflexes, preventing her from quickly stepping aside when or if she heard the icicle breaking from the ledge.”
Great. Another dead end.
“The other day you mentioned Hannah Parker finding Abbott’s body. What do you know about her?”
In a town of less than five thousand souls, people were bound to know each other.
“Hannah?” A smile crinkled Fred’s face. “She’s my sister. Why? What did she do this time?”
“Sister?” The two siblings shared no physical resemblance, and in their last conversation, the medical examiner hadn’t given any hints that he and Hannah were related.
Fred tossed the gloves in the garbage can by the freezer. “Foster sister, not blood sister, though I suppose it’s not impossible that we share the same father.”
How could they not know if they share the same father?
It appeared their family ties were as muddled as the case. One thing was certain in Avery’s mind; dumping a dead fox on Hannah’s doorstep hadn’t been an accident. Someone was sending her a message, and he suspected the fox to be linked to the anonymous notes she’d received. Hannah might not know why she was targeted, but he hoped a glimpse into her past might shed some light over her current predicament.
“I’m slightly confused here.” Avery leaned against the counter where a microscope sat beside slides of different colors. “Why don’t you enlighten me about your sister’s life?”
“Why? You’re not smitten by Hannah, are you?”
The light teasing struck a tender chord. Something in Hannah—something he couldn’t describe or pinpoint—reminded him of Rowan. He hadn’t seen her since the trial ended in the fall. At the time she’d been six months pregnant, and the last he’d heard, she’d given birth to a baby girl. If not for the urgency of this assignment, he would have taken a few days off and gone to PEI for a surprise visit.
“Your sister is an interesting character.” Getting too personal was not a good idea, but Avery couldn’t deny his fascination.
“Hannah and I grew up together in a shabby apartment in Moncton. Her mother and mine were roomies. When we were young, they used to lock us inside a small bedroom for hours with growling stomachs and dirty clothes while men came and went. I guess you could say business was booming.” His jaw hardened, betraying the efforts he made to keep his voice even. “I was a couple years older than Hannah, so I read her stories to muffle the sounds coming from the next room. Then one day, Hannah’s mother died of a drug overdose. She was seven years old. My mother kept her. It was her twisted way to get more child support money from the government, not that she spent any of that money on Hannah or me.
“Some months later, my grandfather found us. He wanted my mother to come home and start over, but she refused. That was the last time I saw her. I don’t know if she’s alive or not, and frankly, I don’t care. Gramp took Hannah and me with him.” A faraway look crossed Fred’s eyes. “She wasn’t his granddaughter, but he couldn’t leave her behind. He raised us together in the cabin and made sure we received a proper education. Without him, I’d probably be selling drugs and Hannah would be turning tricks. Instead, I became a doctor and she became a social worker, but it wasn’t easy for her. She completely lost her hearing over the span of a few months. Science wasn’t able to explain or reverse the damage anymore than it could provide her with an alternative solution. Hearing aids were useless. To succeed, she had to work twice as hard as anyone else.”
“She’s a social worker?” Maybe she’d taken a child in protective custody and some deadbeat parents held a grudge against her. Threats and violence plagued her profession. He made a mental note of looking into her caseload.
“She’s the strongest advocate for children you’ll ever find, Stone.” His voice carried his admiration. “She may not be able to hear, but she knows how to listen. I wish she’d stayed in Halifax, but when Gramp got sick, she moved back to take care of him.”
The grandfather would have been proud of both children for rising above the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their births. That Hannah had returned to be with him spoke of her compassion and gratitude. “Does your grandfather still live in the area?”
“He died five years ago, killed by two teenagers high on drugs. Hannah was the one who found his body in the woods.” The doctor shook his head. “Then she gave birth to Rory and stayed in Mooseland.”
In this forsaken corner of the province, the demand for social workers exceeded the availability. The residents in town needed all the professional help they could get. “Is she working for the agency in town?”
“She mostly works from home, reviewing cases and giving recommendations.”
Nowhere in the story had Fred mentioned a boyfriend, and Avery couldn’t rule out the possibility of a former lover seeking revenge. “May I ask who’s the father of her son?”
“I have no idea, Stone.” The man met Avery’s gaze. “She never told me.”
Chapter Eleven
Reed slammed the report on Avery’s desk. “Suspicious death? Don’t you have any sober brain cells left?”
As much as the insults flew in one ear and out the other without stopping, Avery couldn’t ignore his superior. Since playing deaf wasn’t an option, he chose to play dumb. “Is there a problem, Sergeant?”
The sergeant’s face swelled like a red birthday balloon. “You have no motive, no murder weapon, no witness, no defensive marks, no nothing, Stone. The stripper’s death was accidental.”
“She was killed by an icicle. Doesn’t that enter the suspicious category?” Pressing Reed’s buttons and having fun witnessing his reaction was a perk that Avery hadn’t anticipated.
“Didn’t I tell you not to rock the boat?” Reed gripped the side of Avery’s desk. As he leaned forward, his breath expelled a sample of his lunch menu. “There’s an empty beer bottle in the garbage can. I find your prints on it, Stone, you’re history. You close the stripper case, we can both forget about the trash. There’s enough work to do around here without chasing after imaginary murderers. Got it?”