Deadly Fall Read Free Page B

this afternoon?”
    â€œNot me.”
    â€œWill your aunt?”
    â€œI don’t imagine she’s going anywhere.”
    â€œSam?”
    â€œWho knows about him?” There was a bite to the tone.
    Clearly, Skye was not impressed with Sam’s behavior. His “buggering off” was odd. Or it might not be. People expressed grief differently. Lashing out was typical of Skye, who had inherited her mother’s voice and delicate features, but not her temperament. Skye and Callie had often clashed, but Callie had been proud of her daughter’s spirit. It was natural that Skye would be upset by her mother’s shocking death and annoyed by ghoulish public interest.
    Paula had promised Anne she’d be at the fitness center this afternoon, but could postpone that to the evening. Meanwhile, she had to get to work.
    Seated at her office desk, Paula skimmed the hit-and-run claim that had come in this morning. Damage along the vehicle’s right side. Time of accident: 11:50 PM . Driver states it was too dark and happened too fast for him to identify that car that sideswiped him. Minor whiplash.
    Paula phoned for the police report; she called an appraiser to inspect the vehicle at the garage and left a message on the claimant’s voice mail to arrange a meeting. A junior adjuster could have handled that. She would talk to Nils, her boss, again and insist he hire the next good candidate who came along. It wasn’t fair of him to saddle her with routine work, while he grabbed the fun claims for himself. Right now, Nils was at a construction site examining a building that had collapsed.
    She moved on to the liability claim: a neighbor fell off the homeowner’s roof. Neither the insured nor the claimant had returned her Tuesday call. Shit. A junior adjuster would have followed it up. Nils’ fussiness was dragging the business down. The claimant sustained a concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs. What was he doing on the roof? The file didn’t say. One story or two? The fall could have resulted in worse, so much worse. He was lucky.
    Unlike Callie. She’d had no luck, at the end. Paula rapped her pen on the folder. From her bookshelf, Hayden and her daughters gazed from photographs. In Paula’s favourite one, Leah’s head leaned into Erin’s, dark hair against fair, hazel eyes and blue. They were laughing, loving sisters, for the moment, despite their differences and frequent scraps. Paula had no sister. Callie was as close to a sister as she would get. Now Callie was gone. Forever. The end. Paula blinked and swallowed tears.

Chapter Three
    The murder site looked benign. No marks marred the pavement or earth. Shrubs lined the ridge that dropped to the Elbow River. Their jade leaves glistened in the afternoon sun; limbs swayed in the warm breeze. Across the river gorge, the Saddledome’s curved roof embraced the sky.
    A pair of cyclists coasted down the slope. Paula stepped aside to let them pass. Last evening, she had walked to the blocked-off pathway entrance. The police refused to tell her anything. A spectator had heard the murder took place behind the auto body shop, which would have been closed when Callie died. A poplar grove obscured the view from a hilltop house, the only residence in the area. Witnesses to the murder were unlikely. The spectator didn’t know if Callie had been shot in the chest or back. Had the killer crept up behind her? Had she heard footsteps getting closer and whirled around? Or had she jogged toward someone who appeared normal, like this couple walking down the slope, holding hands?
    Paula nodded hello.
    â€œLovely afternoon,” the gray-haired pair said.
    A roller-blader wove between the three of them. The weather was drawing a good crowd for a Friday afternoon. On dreary days, this stretch of trail behind the Stampede grounds was deserted. What had Callie been thinking, jogging here alone in darkness?
    Paula picked up her