Read Butterfly Kills for Free Online

elevator to the seventh floor. He used his key to enter and was surprised to hear his father’s hearty laughter coming from the living room. A woman’s voice joined in and Rouleau’s heart lightened. His father had refused visitors, so this was a good sign.
    Rouleau walked down the short hallway lined in bookcases and rounded the corner. Both faces turned to smile up at him: his father stretched out on the couch, and surprise of surprises, Kala Stonechild in a chair facing him. A black Labrador retriever lay at her feet, its alert eyes following his every movement. The dog looked friendly but on guard. Rouleau crossed to the empty easy chair and dropped into it. He reached across to squeeze Stonechild’s shoulder and the dog’s eyes followed him. “You’re here,” Rouleau said, leaning back. He grinned wryly at having stated the obvious. “So you got my messages then?”
    “I did.” She shrugged and her lips curved upward. The smile almost reached her eyes. Almost, but not quite. She was dressed in a white cotton blouse, gauzy and unbuttoned to just below her collarbones, and faded jeans. A turquoise, white, and red beaded belt was threaded through the loops. Her ebony hair hung in two braided pigtails to her chest. She’d taken her sandals off at the door and her bare feet were tucked underneath the coffee table.
    Rouleau glanced over at his father. His blue eyes had recovered some of their brilliance. “You’re looking better, Dad.”
    “I’ve had good company today,” his father responded. “I hope you’re about to pour us each a little of the Glenfiddich before dinner.”
    “Of course.” Rouleau stood. “Ginger ale, Kala?” he asked. He knew she didn’t touch alcohol. She nodded and he walked into the kitchen. When he returned with the drinks, Kala and his father were deep in conversation, as if they’d known each other a long time instead of a few hours.
    Rouleau sat down and took a sip of the single malt. It burned pleasantly all the way down. He looked at Kala and waited for her to tell him why she was sitting in his father’s apartment. She raised her eyes to his and smiled as if fully aware of his impatience for her to commit to his job offer. She took her time, letting his father finish talking about his research at the university before responding.
    “I’m not sure if I’ll be staying in Kingston. I’ve come to check out the town on my way to Ottawa. Grayson is waiting for me to join the unit again.” She shrugged. “I thought I’d resign in person.”
    “Where would you go if not here?”
    “Not sure. My old job in Red Rock is still open.”
    “Is that where you really want to be?”
    “One place is as good as another.” Again the slight lifting of her shoulders. The defiant tilt of her jaw he’d seen before. “I’m not ruling out your offer. I’m just saying that I don’t know what I want to do yet.”
    “How did you find my father’s apartment?”
    “I’m a detective, remember?” she said. “You left a trail of bread crumbs as wide as Highway 417.”
    “I’d like you to come work for me.”
    “I gathered that from your phone messages.”
    “You’ll like Kingston. It’s a welcoming kind of town.”
    “I don’t know yet if this town is for me. Honestly, I feel more at home in the North.”
    “The Criminal Investigations team is small, and you’d be working with another inspector named Paul Gundersund. He’s good. We also have a solid in-house forensics team and cold case unit in our division. Think about it. That’s all I ask.”
    She nodded, but her eyes were evasive. Rouleau had the uneasy feeling he’d oversold the job.
    “Will you stay for supper?” his dad asked her. “Jacques will be cooking some steak with baked potatoes. We’d be delighted to have you.”
    “Thank you, but I really have to be going. Taiku needs a walk and I have to check in with my friend.”
    “Where are you staying?”
    “Just west of the city but this side of Bath. My