Cut to the Bone Read Free Page B

waved the report. “Your research may come in handy. Take a car from the pool and get over to 68 Delisle Street. The superintendent, Hollis Grant, will wait for you in her office. She found the body.”
    â€œDid you say Hollis Grant?” Rhona said. A feeling of déjà vu swept over her. Not again. It couldn’t be Hollis Grant?
    â€œShould I spell it? H-o-l-l-i-s G-r-a-n-t, do you know her?”
    â€œYes, and so do you. She was involved in the Danson Lafleur case last October.”
    â€œThe name didn’t register. Now that you mention it, I do remember. Didn’t she provide useful information?”
    â€œShe meddled, but, yes, you’re right, she helped.”
    â€œWell, maybe she’ll do it again,” the chief said.
    Rhona hoped Hollis would not play any part in the investigation.
    â€œWe don’t want the mayor, the papers, or any of the city’s do-gooders making an issue of the case. Do I make myself clear?” Frank said.
    â€œPerfectly. We’re on our way,” Rhona said.
    Outside the chief’s office, Ian muttered, “If I remember correctly, she was a pain in the ass.”
    â€œShe was, but without her leads the case could have turned out much worse. She’s a loose cannon and I hope her only involvement is finding the victim,” Rhona said.
    At 68 Delisle, Hollis had left Ginny in her office and dealt with the initial onslaught of emergency responders arriving in the lobby. The police, once they knew what had happened, requested that residents arriving or leaving wait there for an interview. The lobby rapidly filled with tenants, along with the crew working on the exterior repairs to the balconies, who used the opportunity to flop on the grey marble floor and chow down on whatever food remained in their lunch buckets.
    Hollis circled the area and briefly spoke to those she knew before nipping into her apartment, leashing Barlow and returning to the office with the puppy. She dug out the dog biscuits she kept in her desk drawer.
    â€œHelp me practice his dog training homework?” she said to Ginny, who was huddled on the visitor’s chair gripping her second glass of orange juice and staring into space.
    Ginny frowned. “How can you talk about dog training when Sabrina’s been murdered?” she asked. “All I can think about is what we saw up there.”
    â€œMe too, but practising the exercises with Barlow will distract us,” Hollis said.
    Hearing his name, Barlow squeezed close to Hollis, waiting for her to scratch his bony back. Instead, she stood and fished a treat from her pocket, which energized the dog and focused his attention. Barlow performed sit and down with no problems, but when Hollis ordered him down and then told him to stay, he refused to co-operate, repeatedly leaping to his feet and lunging for the treat.
    Hollis, for the fifth time, held her hand aloft and again commanded the dog to stay. With eyes locked on the puppy, she backed toward the door. A voice behind her said. “A puppy and a new job as apartment super. You’ve been busy since I saw you last.”
    It couldn’t be. Hollis dropped her hand and turned. Barlow, tail wagging like a metronome on speed, leapt toward Rhona Simpson, who stepped back and crashed into Ian.
    â€œRhona Simpson. I can’t believe it,” Hollis said. She grabbed the puppy’s blue collar with her left hand and held out her right to Rhona.
    Rhona, her equilibrium restored, shook the proffered hand. “You remember my partner, Detective Gilchrist?”
    Hollis acknowledged Ian and waved her free hand toward Ginny. “This is Ginny Wuttenee. Sabrina Trepanier was sleeping in her spare room when she was murdered.”
    â€œWhat a shock you’ve had,” Rhona said to Ginny.
    Ginny, wide-eyed, said nothing.
    â€œThere’s a crowd up there already,” Hollis said.
    â€œAnd the coroner is on his way along with the rest of