Stonechild and Rouleau Mysteries 5-Book Bundle. Brenda Chapman

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СКАЧАТЬ the dark, lifeless form at his feet, to glimpse the flash of his white teeth in what might pass for a smile. He turned his face away from her. His hand dropped to his side and he took off through the bushes toward the far road.

      She chased after him, making the split decision to leave the person in the snow a moment longer. He was trying to run, but the snow was deeper, a drift caught in the line of bushes. She gained precious steps and flung herself across the remaining distance to tackle his legs at thigh level. The impact knocked him to the ground. She kept her arms squeezed around kicking legs. He rolled under her, twisting his body so that he was sitting up. His arms came down around her head, a bare hand grabbing onto her neck. She released his legs and squirmed away, dodging kicks and somehow managing to get her hands free to push herself to her feet. One blow landed on her back before she steadied herself. She felt searing pain across her shoulder but managed to push herself back from his boots. He was standing now, kicking wildly in her direction. One kick landed on her collarbone but she pulled back in time to deflect the full impact.

      “Cunt,” he said. “Stupid bitch.”

      She scrambled to her feet and faced him, panting. “Police. Get down on the ground.”

      “Not on your life, bitch. Come closer so I can teach you a lesson.”

      “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

      She jumped back from another kick and then leapt forward, catching him off balance. She had her feet spread in a wide stance, bent at the knees. She pushed off with her feet and lunged, slugging him in the stomach with her fist. He doubled over and gasped for air as if he’d just finished running a marathon. She raised both hands and chopped him across the back until he dropped onto his knees in the snow. She knelt on one knee in the snow next to him and wrenched his arm back, twisting it with enough force to hear a snap. He screeched in pain. Her knee came up and dug into his back as she used her body weight to force him face down onto the ground. In one quick movement, she had her handcuffs out of her jacket pocket and cuffed both hands behind his back. She clicked them shut.

      He writhed in the snow, but all resistance was gone. A stream of profanity spewed from his mouth. She leaned close to his ear, exposed where his hat had twisted nearly off. The rank smell of greasy hair filled her nose. His hair was white, just as Glenda Martin had reported. His face was clean shaven and barely lined. He couldn’t be more than thirty-five years old.

      “Whoever you were hitting back there better be alive,” she said, “or I might just forget to come back for you.”

      She took off her rope belt and wrapped it around his legs below the knees. She pulled it tight and tied a knot. Even if he managed to crawl somewhere, he wouldn’t get far.

      His eyes were feverish with rage and pain in the moonlight. “You broke my arm, you fucking bitch. I’m going to have you put away.” He rocked back and forth on his stomach, moaning and trying to flip onto his side without success.

      “No point struggling,” she said. “You’ll just make it worse.”

      He howled as she stepped away from him. “Undo me! I said undo me! I’ll make you pay if it’s the last thing I do.”

      “I very much doubt that.”

      She pulled out her cellphone to call 911 as she started running back through the snow to find the victim, his screams and curses following her through the darkness.

      27

      Friday, December 30, 11:45 a.m.

      Rouleau replayed the interview from earlier that morning on the flat screen television on his office wall. His head was weary but he forced himself to focus. Kala Stonechild stood at attention next to Vermette while he congratulated her for getting a dangerous offender off the street. Her hair was tied back and she wore a navy jacket over a black turtleneck sweater. She’d borrowed the jacket and it fit loosely, a few sizes too large. Her face was unreadable, her eyes staring straight ahead, and her bandaged shoulder hidden by the over-sized coat.

      What were you thinking? he wondered as the camera zoomed in on her. What the hell were you doing out there?

      He turned at a knock on the door.

      “Stonechild just came in,” said Grayson. “Thought you’d want to know.”

      He withdrew and Rouleau crossed to the door. His team had surrounded her like she was a homecoming queen. Malik was hugging her and Bennett was waiting his turn. She had her back to Rouleau but appeared to be willingly accepting the attention. He heard her laugh at something Malik said. He waited a few minutes before calling for her to come into his office.

      She turned to look at him and the smile left her face. She broke away from the group and walked toward him, her back as straight as an army cadet’s. They entered his office.

      “Sir,” she said as he motioned for her to sit.

      He settled into his desk chair across from her. “How are you feeling, Stonechild?” He’d noticed the line of sweat across her forehead and the grimace of pain in as she sat down.

      She shifted slightly. “I’m fine. Thanks for sending Bennett to drive me home from the hospital last night. Any word on the victim?”

      “She’s stable. A broken nose and cheek bone. Two broken ribs. The damage to one eye could be permanent.”

      “Damn,” Stonechild muttered under her breath.

      “Even though you were off duty, Vermette would like a full report. Are you feeling up to it?”

      She nodded. “I had a few hours of sleep and should be good until tonight.”

      “I meant your shoulder. Can you type?”

      “We’ll soon see.” She smiled for the first time.

      His instinct was to smile back but he refrained. “It was a fortunate coincidence that you were at the same place as the man who’d been assaulting women along that stretch of Richmond Road.” He waited while she collected how much she would tell him. The evasion in her eyes gave her away.

      “I might have misled you about my living conditions. I never actually found an apartment yet and have been staying just down the street at the YWCA. There were vacancies in the apartment building on Richmond Road and I decided to check out them out. I remembered the area from when we interviewed Glenda Martin after her assault.” She shrugged. “I heard a scream from the trees as I was walking back to my truck.” She met his eyes and didn’t look away this time.

      After a few seconds, he looked down. “Richard Kennedy says you busted his arm on purpose.”

      “He resisted arrest. I had to control him quickly and get back to the victim.”

      Rouleau nodded. “You’ll need to be clear in your report.”

      “I will. What have they found out about him?”

      “Richard Kennedy’s wife left him last year for his best friend. The two worked construction. They were framers for Chalmers Housing. After his wife walked out, Kennedy upped his coke habit and dreamed about getting even. He was practising taking out his anger on middle-aged women. You were right, by the way. He lives closer to the river but in the same general area.”

      “His СКАЧАТЬ