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was out for a bit, and I haven’t been answering the phone. They just won’t stop.”
    “Who won’t stop?
    “The reporters, the lawyers, they won’t leave me alone.”
    Craig rubbed his forehead. “You mean the reporter you gave my number to?”
    Her breath caught. “I’m sorry, Craig. I don’t know what to tell these people.”
    Craig frowned. He’d thought their phone number was unlisted. “Aren’t these people just looking for Dad?”
    “Did you talk to her?” Alison’s voice had risen. Level and calm—which was Alison’s normal tone, even when upset— wasn’t how Craig would describe her words now.
    “Who? The reporter? Briefly.”
    “Craig, someone broke into the house.”
    He frowned. Nobody had mentioned a break-in, and he was the primary contact while Steve and Alison were out of the province. “Is that why you’re back? Nobody told me anything about this.”
    “I was already back.”
    “Who’s handling this?” Silence. “Alison, I want to talk to whoever’s handling this.”
    “I…I haven’t reported it.”
    “Alison, what the—”
    “I phoned you.”
    He stifled a groan. Could he blame his stepmother? Not really. If Steve wasn’t away, Alison would have called him. Craig would automatically be next on the list.
    “Okay, look. I’ll have to put this through properly if you want—”
    “I want you to come and deal with this.”
    “I’m on my way. Okay? Lock the doors, sit tight. I have a key. I’ll let myself in. Okay?” He waited a moment, then asked again, “Okay?”
    She sounded calmer when she replied. “The bedroom.”
    “What about it?”
    “I don’t want to go downstairs, Craig. I locked myself in the bedroom.”
    “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
    Craig hung up and took the folders he’d been looking through and set them back in the box, on top, along with a separate folder, titled DESIREE HARRINGTON that he hadn’t had a chance to read yet. He wondered why they’d have a file on Hope’s younger sister, who hadn’t even been born at the time of her murder, in with the case notes, but he’d have to find out later. He replaced the lid and stood up.
    “Knocking off early?”
    Craig didn’t need to see who was behind him to identify the voice. Why was it every time he did something Zidani was looking over his shoulder? He turned.
    “Not exactly. Someone broke into my parents’ home.”
    Zidani’s eyes narrowed. “Who got the call?”
    Craig exhaled. “I did. From my stepmother. She hasn’t reported it through proper channels.” He held up his hand. “Spare me the lecture. She’s used to my dad dealing with things.”
    “I thought your parents were in Regina.”
    “They were. Look, my stepmother is at home alone, and she’s locked herself in her room. She’s waiting for me.”
    Zidani almost looked thoughtful and then he nodded. “Take Luke with you.”
    Craig bit back his reply. From the corner of his eye he could see that Luke was already out of his chair, reaching for his jacket.
    Zidani walked away.
    Craig slid the boxes under his desk, grabbed his own coat and put up his hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He started down the hallway, as though he was following Zidani to argue with him. Then he pulled out his cell phone, called Alison and told her he was on his way but had to bring his partner.
    When he returned Luke was putting something in one of his desk drawers.
    “Ready?” Craig asked.
    Luke slammed the drawer shut and looked up. “Sure.” He grabbed a key and locked the drawer.
    Craig led the way to the parking lot, thankful that at least Luke Geller had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.
    Constable Sims was the kind of guy who could piss Tain off just by existing. He wasn’t fallible flesh and blood; he was chiseled. Sims’s uniform was always perfect. Why he hadn’t been assigned to an airport or tourist attraction where international visitors lined up to have their photo taken with a real, live Mountie was beyond Tain.