What Burns Within
him?”
“Platonically.”
“Seriously.”
“He was one of my instructors at the Depot.” The Depot was the common term for the academy where all RCMP officers completed their training.
So Ashlyn has known Daly since her training to be an RCMP officer, when she was just a cadet. And Craig …Tain tapped the steering wheel with his thumb.
“What are you thinking about?” Ashlyn asked.
“If Daly thinks so highly of you, maybe you’ll help give him a good impression of me.”
“Wouldn’t I need to have a good impression of you first?”
He braked at the intersection and glared at her. She smiled innocently.
“See, Tain, when it comes to putting you in your place, I can keep up.”
Tain laughed. “You know what I was really thinking, Ashlyn?”
“Enlighten me.”
“It’s nice to have a partner who isn’t afraid to tell me off.”
“Wish I could say the same.”
“Huh. You know me. I’ve never been afraid to give you a piece of my mind.”
“I know. I almost have the complete puzzle. You really should stop giving those pieces away.”
He saw her grin as he turned back to look at the road. “Feels good to laugh, doesn’t it?”
“At your expense? Absolutely.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said as he parked the car.
He watched her smile fade, her mouth twisting. “I know.”
“You ready for this?”
She glanced at him sideways as she unclipped her seat belt and reached for the door handle. “Are you ever ready?”
“Probably not, Ashlyn. Probably not.”
     
“Constable Nolan,” he said into the phone.
“Ye…need…ort…rime.”
“I’m sorry, I can hardly hear you,” Craig said as he held his hand over his right ear, although he knew it wouldn’t do much good. The room was almost as still as a church on a Friday afternoon. Craig reached for the volume dial on the phone.
He heard the caller clear their throat. “I…I need to report a crime.”
Craig rubbed his forehead. “Okay. Did you call dispatch?”
“They redirected me.”
Craig paused. “What do you need to report?”
Silence.
“Ma’am?”
“A rape.” The voice coughed and sputtered, and then Craig heard the sharp intake of breath. “I was raped.”
     
Crossing the threshold into Isabella Bertini’s bedroom made Ashlyn feel like she’d stepped back more than a dozen years in time. There were books and stuffed animals and posters. Different icons, but the same generic style as the ones she’d hung up on her bedroom walls when she was a kid.
The room was tastefully done, with sunshine yellow walls and crisp white trim. There were murals on the far side, above the bed, depicting butterflies in flight. To her left a mirrored sliding door concealed the contents of the closet, but exposed the stickers and decals the girl had used to personalize the cold metal that intruded on this space.
On her right a long bookshelf overflowed with novels. Anne of Green Gables was stacked on top of This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall . Beside the other Montgomery and Korman titles was a copy of The Call of the Wild , and behind them were rows and rows of books about dogs and horses.
Ashlyn turned in the other direction, scrutinizing the artwork on the wall. It looked like pastel to her untrained eye.
She turned again and stifled a gasp. Ashlyn knelt down.
“Hi there.”
The little girl with silky, dark brown hair and enormous black eyes smiled, partially concealing her mouth behind her blue stuffed bunny. She was a smaller version of her sister.
“My name is Ashlyn.”
The girl smiled again and then spun on her toes. She stepped right into her mother’s legs.
“Time for bed, Sophia. Go on to your room.”
Ashlyn stood, smiled and waved as the girl glanced back at her and then trotted down the hall, almost tripping over her pajama pants.
Mrs. Bertini blinked. “Would you like some tea, juice, coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
The woman stepped inside the room, her arms folded in front of her. She nodded at the
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