A Winter Kill Read Online Free PDF Page A

stay behind in English class for a few minutes.”
    Mark gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Great. And stop moping about. Bowen’ll call you a wimp if he sees that look on your face.”
    Jason walked away. Mark watched him go, a smile turning up the edges of his mouth.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    I saw the same bunch of kids a couple of days later at Maureen’s funeral.
    My mom wanted to pay her respects, so I went with her. Sergeant Malan and Detective Roberts were there. They stood to one side, watching everyone.
    The funeral was well attended. That’s normal for a young person and a sudden, dramatic death. The girls in her class might not have liked Maureen, but they wouldn’t pass up the chance to look sad. Or to get an afternoon off class. I recognized most of the group I’d spoken to the other day at the school.
    Mr. and Mrs. Grey were there, of course. She cried throughout the brief service. He sat beside her, scowling at everyone. He wore a white shirt and thin black tie. She wore a black skirt with a gray blouse. The blouse had a coffee stain on the front. Mrs. Grey had a large purple-and-black bruise on the side of her face. As Paul Malan had said, we all knew the Greys. There’s nothing much we can do if she won’t tell anyone her husband knocked her around.
    There wouldn’t be a public graveside service. Instead we went downstairs to the basement of the funeral home. Coffee and tea, sandwiches and cookies had been laid out. Mr. Grey had disappeared. Mrs. Grey stood alone in a dark corner. Her eyes were very red, and her nose was swollen. She clutched a clump of damp and torn tissues in her hand.
    Mom and I went over to her. Mom told her that Maureen had been a whiz on the computer. She often helped the other kids if they were having trouble.
    â€œThank you,” Mrs. Grey said. “She was a good girl. She wanted to be a computer programmer when she finished school.”
    Mom went to talk to some of her friends from the youth center. I saw Sergeant Malan standing by himself, drinking a cup of tea. “Where’s Mr. Grey?” I asked.
    â€œIn a bar most likely. Roberts is keeping an eye on him.”
    â€œYou think he did it?”
    â€œWe don’t think anything,” Malan said. “We’re keeping an eye on him, that’s all. What are you doing here? You’re not involved in the case.”
    â€œI came with my mom.”
    He finished his tea and walked away.
    Jason, the boy I’d seen at Maureen’s locker, was standing alone. He was very good-looking. He wore a gray suit, a tie with thin blue stripes, and a white shirt. He had a glass of orange juice in one hand and a Nanaimo bar in the other. His eyes and nose were red.
    Some of the kids had their parents with them. During the service I’d noticed a man in a very good suit sitting beside Jason. The man was now on the other side of the room. He was talking to one of the mothers.
    I went up to the boy. “Hi, I’m Nicole Patterson.”
    â€œJason Fitzpatrick. Are you a grief counselor?”
    â€œNo. I’m with the OPP.”
    â€œYou’re young to be a detective.”
    I didn’t correct him. “Were you friends with Maureen?”
    He looked around. His father was still talking to the woman. “I knew her from school.”
    â€œJason, how are you?”
    â€œI’m okay, Mrs. Patterson.”
    My mom had joined us.
    â€œI don’t see you at the center much these days.”
    He shrugged. “Just busy.” He had big shoulders and large hands.
    â€œHave you decided yet where you’re going to go next year? It must be so exciting for you.”
    â€œYeah. I guess. No, I haven’t decided. Dad has some ideas.”
    â€œI sure do.” Mr. Fitzpatrick slapped his son on the back. Jason scowled. “But it isn’t up to me, is it? My boy’ll make the right choice.”
    I had no idea what they were talking