Butterfly Kills: A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery

Butterfly Kills: A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery

by Brenda Chapman, Michelle St. John


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Butterfly Kills: A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery by Brenda Chapman, Michelle St. John

Two separate crimes, two tragic outcomes.

Jacques Rouleau has moved to Kingston to look after his father and take up the position of head of the town’s Criminal Investigations Division. One hot week in late September, university student Leah Sampson is murdered in her apartment. In another corner of the city, Della Munroe is raped by her husband. At first the crimes appear unrelated, but as Sergeant Rouleau and his new team of officers dig into the women’s pasts, they discover unsettling coincidences. When Kala Stonechild, one of Rouleau’s former officers from Ottawa, suddenly appears in Kingston, Rouleau enlists her to help.

Stonechild isn’t sure if she wants to stay in Kingston, but agrees to help Rouleau in the short term. While she struggles with trying to decide if she can make a life in this new town, a ghost from her past starts to haunt her.

As the detectives delve deeper into the cases, it seems more questions pop up than answers. Who murdered Leah Sampson? And why does Della Monroe’s name keep showing up in the murder investigation? Both women were hiding secrets that have unleashed a string of violence. Stonechild and Rouleau race to discover the truth before the violence rips more families apart.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781459723146
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Publication date: 02/03/2015
Series: A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery Series , #2
Pages: 376
Product dimensions: 5.00(w) x 7.80(h) x 1.10(d)

About the Author

Brenda Chapman began her writing career in children’s fiction. Her YA novel Hiding in Hawk’s Creek was short-listed for the CLA Book of the Year for Children. Her first adult mystery, In Winter's Grip , was published in 2010. She is the author of the Stonechild and Rouleau mystery series. She lives in Ottawa, Ontario.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One
Leah Sampson couldn't wait for the day to end. Twelve straight hours on the phone, talking students through exam jitters, boyfriend troubles and suicidal thoughts was enough to make anyone go mad. Whoever said this generation had their shit together was dreaming in Technicolor. The problems she'd worked this lot through today had left her drained. A glass of Pinot, bowl of chocolate ice cream and soak in a hot tub were long past due.

She turned her head as Wolf skirted past her desk to flop onto the couch positioned under a line of grimy windows. Darkness pressed against the glass and she glanced at her watch. Ten to nine. Ten more minutes and she'd be on her way home.
She tuned back into the girl's voice droning into her ear and waited for her to take a breath. "If he threatens to hit you again, call me back," Leah inserted. "We'll talk further about your options. It'll be time to decide whether you want to make a change. Yes, call anytime. We're always here to help you through."

She wearily hung up and looked across at Wolf, his long legs stretched out on the floor in front of him. His eyes were closed.

"What have you got on for tonight?" he asked.

A question inside of a question. He was really asking if she'd ended the affair. Had she stopped slinking around behind his back?

She couldn't risk him finding out what she'd done. Not yet.

"I'm going home alone and putting my feet up," she said, using both hands to refasten the clip that held her long hair away from her face. "And I'll be in the library writing a paper tomorrow so no chance of getting into trouble."

Wolf's eyes flashed open: expressive green orbs flecked with gold. They were half of the reason why he'd been nicknamed a member of the animal kingdom. The other half lay in his mane of brown hair and full beard. She could have added his animal fierceness in bed, but that was an observation she'd attempted to seal away in her memory bank. Some days with more success than others.

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'll walk you out if you're ready."

She glanced at her watch again. "Four minutes after nine. Where's that damn Gail? She's taking over the line from me and late as usual."

"Getting a coffee. She'll be back in a few."

"I can't leave until she gets here."

"I'll wait."

With blessed kindness, the phone remained silent until Gail traipsed in at quarter past. Leah grimaced in her direction, but Gail ignored the rebuke just as she ignored most subtleties in life. Spiky red hair, round face and rounder body littered in cartoon character tattoos and piercings, her style was as unapologetic as her character. Yet, Leah had to admit that Gail had a way with the callers. An empathy one couldn't fake.

Gail balanced a coffee cup in one hand and biology text and iPad under her arm. "How’re our loonies doing today?" she asked. "I hope they had the grace to call you and didn't save up their anxieties for my shift."

Nice," said Wolf, rubbing a hand through his beard. "If they knew the sensitive face of Queen's University at the other end of the help line, they might think twice about sharing their secrets with you."

"I'm just talking about the repeat loonies who wallow in messes of their own making." Gail dropped into the swivel chair newly vacated by Leah and scattered her possessions across the desk. "Thank God for the rule never to meet any of the callers. Can you imagine?"

"The regulars have all called this afternoon, I think," Leah said. "Some more than once." She grabbed her cellphone from the desk. "We're off then." She turned her head so that Wolf didn't see her face. He'd know she was hiding something. He had a sixth sense when it came to her and lying.

They exited their office in the limestone house sandwiched next to the Student Centre on University Avenue. A cool breeze had come up from the direction of Lake Ontario and the air smelled of rain; dank, fecund vegetation; and earth worms. Summer school ended in a week with a short break before the fall semester began. Too bad the student problems never took a break: summer, fall, winter, spring. Each season had its own emotional issues. Leah noticed the asphalt was wet in the circle of light under a streetlamp. She shivered in her light t-shirt and denim skirt. It had been a hot August day when she walked to work that morning. She hadn't thought to bring a jacket.

Wolf walked on the road side. He told her one night in bed that they'd been taught how to treat a girl in gym class: walk closest to the oncoming traffic, hold the door open, wear a condom. He'd taken it all to heart.

She'd been hurt at first when he ended their relationship. Hurt that he'd doubted her, then anger that finally resolved itself into acceptance. She'd been shocked when he told her the month before that he knew she was having an affair. It was exactly the wrong time for him to accuse her. He'd pressed for a name and she'd refused. Predictably, he’d made the leap that she was protecting a married man. She hadn't denied it, not even when Wolf told her they had to take a break from each other. It still made her chest constrict and her eyes burn to think he didn't want her anymore, that he could doubt her so easily. They reached a truce after a few weeks of not speaking. Now, she was grateful for his brotherly presence in her life. It meant he might still come around and become something more. She just needed a bit more time.

"I've handed in my notice to Mark," he said.

She stopped walking. "I hope it wasn't because of my . . . ."

"No," he interrupted quickly. "Our break up had nothing to do with my decision. I just think it's time I got into the field. My last exam is end of the week and I've accepted a job with the Kingston Public School Board in September. I'm heading out west for a few weeks."

She caught up to him. "Then you'll come back to Kingston." For a moment, she'd feared losing him altogether.

"For now." He turned his head sideways and grinned at her. "I'll have an office, but will travel to different schools to work with the kids."

"You'll be terrific. I'm jealous."

"When you finish next year, I can put a word in for you too."

"I'm not sure this kind of work is for me. I've had doubts lately."

"It's the first you've said."

"It's just the all the pain, you know? People and their problems that never get resolved. I think they've finally worn me out."

Wolf reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She let herself relax against him for a moment before pushing him away.

"I'm just thinking about it, okay? No decision yet."

"Don't do anything rash. You're good at helping people even if the results aren’t always obvious. You have empathy."

"I just can't distance myself." Some of their troubles hit too close to home. She wanted to tell him about what she'd done, but couldn't bring herself to yet. She'd crossed lines, but wouldn't drag in anybody else. Still, her actions proved she wasn't professional enough for this field of work.

Wolf looked down Sydenham Street toward the house where she had an apartment. It was dark along the road, a street lamp burned out near her driveway. "I could walk you to your door if you like."

"I thought you were meeting someone at the pub?"

"Yeah, but they can wait."

"I'm fine, Wolf. You go."

"You sure?"

"I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Get some rest, then." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She held onto his arm for a moment before he turned away. She would have liked to wrap her whole body around him and make things right. From the look in his eyes, she believed he wanted the same.

One day soon.

Leah walked briskly down Sydenham toward Johnson, chilled in her light clothing. At the walkway to the front door of the two storey red brick house where she’d lived for the past two years, she stopped and looked back toward the corner. Wolf still stood in the shadows where the streets intersected, watching until she made it safely inside. Another gym class lesson well learned.
She smiled and waved at the same time he looked down to check his phone. She slowly lowered her hand. A feeling of sadness welled up unexpectedly. One day, Wolf would find somebody else and this fragile friendship would slip away. Some things could never go back to what they were. It always went like that with the people who meant the most to her. Sometimes you don't know what you've got till it's gone.

She started up the short walkway toward the house and surveyed the apartment windows. Lights on the main floor were off, but Becky appeared to be home on the second. Her spirits rose a bit. Looks like there'd be some company around for the weekend.

The house was built in the 1930s when front porches and bay windows were in vogue. Leah liked the old elegance of the structure even if time had worn the brick and peeled the paint on the wood detailing above the windows. Her one-bedroom apartment in the basement was cozy but definitely student digs. She'd filled it with Ikea furniture and her parents' cast offs. As soon as she finished her thesis, she planned to move into a nicer place and have a yard sale. The University Help Line had promised her more hours whenever she had more time to give them. It would do until she made up her mind about the future.

The front door creaked open and she entered the hallway. An envelope lay at the base of the stairs, stark white against the gray carpet. She walked over and stooped to pick it up, flipping the envelope over to read the name as she straightened. Becky must have dropped it on her way upstairs.

Leah walked up the creaky stairs to the second floor landing and knocked on Becky's door. She could hear music and Becky talking on the phone when she leaned her ear against the wood. She listened for a while to see if Becky would hang up. After a minute or so, Leah knocked a second time before bending to slip the letter under the door. She would have liked to share a glass of wine and a chat so she lingered a while longer before giving up and heading downstairs. For some reason, she didn't feel like being along this evening.

She flicked on the light switch at the head of the basement stairs and cursed as the light remained off. It was the second time the bulb had burned out within three weeks. She’d phone the landlord as soon as she got inside and get him to check the wiring. She should have insisted last time.

She stepped carefully down the steep stairwell, the light from the landing just enough to make out the outline of the steps. A mustiness seeped up from the basement concrete floor that no amount of air freshener could disguise. She'd bought a dehumidifier that helped slightly and lit a lot of incense, but it was time to start looking at apartment ads in the Whig Standard. Hopefully, she'd find a better place not already rented for fall term.

At the bottom of the stairs, she felt in her pocket for her keys, then slid her hand down the door to the lock. She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned her head toward the laundry room. Was that a noise she'd heard or was fatigue making her jumpy? She listened for a moment more, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. Silence filled the space and she shook exhaled slowly. A braver person would have gone to look, but that would not be her. She had no desire to face a rat or other vermin in the dark.

It took three fumbling tries before she unlocked the door and opened it into her apartment. She stepped inside and felt along the wall to the light switch. She smiled when the room leapt into brightness. At least the wiring problem hadn't entered her inner sanctum.

She reached back with her foot to shove the door closed. Instead of clicking shut, it swung back toward her. Her first thought was that dampness has warped the wood and the lock didn't catch as it should. "Dammit," she said aloud. She'd have to search out the landlord's phone number and make the call tonight.

She turned and took a step toward the door before her legs stopped working. Her eyes widened as her brain scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing. A person dressed entirely in black filled the opening like a character out of a slasher movie. Her first thought was how absurd they looked, but horror quickly followed. The hand she’d extended toward the door handle found her mouth. She let out a shriek.

The figure stepped inside her apartment and pushed the door shut. Their eyes stayed on hers. “Did you think this was a game?”

he shook her head but comprehension dawned. Her mind was scrambling, searching frantically for toeholds. The chance of Becky hearing her scream two floors above was remote. There was no chance of pushing past the person in the narrow hallway and even less chance to make it out the closed door without being grabbed.

“I have no idea what you want,” she heard herself beg. “Please just leave.” She stumbled backward, her leg banging against the wall.
The person took a step closer, leather gloved hands reaching toward her. Leah turned to run into the living room, knowing she was trapped with no way out.

Knowing she was in very big trouble.

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Butterfly Kills: A Stonechild and Rouleau Mystery 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I couldn't stop reading as soon as I started....love how it pulls me in
LauraMHartman More than 1 year ago
When a college student is brutally murdered, her co-workers in the office of the campus confidential helpline are scrutinized as possible suspects. Each of them has issues, but all claim they are not guilty. One of them is a troublemaker, one is possibly her married lover and one is an ex-boyfriend. There is always the possibility that one of the callers may have a secret worth killing for to keep it from seeing the light of day. Simultaneously, police investigator Jacques Rouleau learns of another crime scene. A young mother has been raped by her estranged husband. It is a coincidence or extremely bad luck that two major crimes are committed in Kingston, especially because they are unrelated. Or are they? Soon the investigations heat up as another body turns up and an assault puts everyone on edge. Enter Kala Stonechild – Rouleau’s former partner. Rouleau convinces a reluctant Stonechild to stay in town long enough to help him investigate the attacks because his plate is overflowing with investigating these crimes and worry about his ailing father. There is chemistry between Rouleau and Stonechild that could easily ignite if they fan the spark. They are reluctant to risk the work relationship on what could be, but both seem interested. Enter Rouleau’s ex-wife. The woman that turned his world upside down by having an affair, is now jealously and possessively trying to step back into the role she gave up so easily for another man. This plot is intricate and involved. Chapman does a great job of blending story lines, adding twists and turns without losing sight of the characters and their roles. As a reader, I like having a bevy of bad guys and not so bad guys to pin the murder on. Chapman provides a wide variety to choose from. This is a solid mystery with interesting characters that I liked, loved or downright hated. The inspectors, Rouleau and Stonechild, have depth and back stories that are sufficiently told in this second novel featuring them that allowed me to feel like I knew them. Butterfly Kills was not a fast read for me. But I am not sure it is meant to be. I had to slow down and pay attention to the clues and characters to really enjoy the rhythm of the story. I’m glad I did. Copyright © 2015 Laura Hartman DISCLOSURE OF MATERIAL CONNECTION: I have a material connection because I received a review copy that I can keep for consideration in preparing to write this content. I was not expected to return this item after my review.
FeatheredQuillBookReviews More than 1 year ago
Jacques Rouleau is the head of the Kingston, Ontario, Criminal Investigations Division. He and his investigators are called out to investigate the murder of Leah Sampson, a young University Student. The police were shocked by the manner of the attack whereby the girl was tortured and killed. Leah was working, at the time, at the campus crisis hotline and had a secret that she couldn’t tell to anyone, even her long-time friend and former boyfriend, Wolf. Rouleau’s team consists of Paul Gundersund, who is recovering from a recent marital separation and Kala Stonechild, a young native Canadian. As the three of them work to find the truth, the team is called to interview Della Munroe, a young mother who reported being attacked by her estranged husband. Subsequently, they begin to suspect that the two crimes are somehow related. In another side story, come two young Indian-Canadian sisters, Dalal and Meeza, who are trapped in a family that are very strict and the girls are stuck in a crisis they can’t get out of. Dalal is trying to protect her sister and Kala tries to help them as she is a former foster child and looked after unwanted children. These three stories are linked and it’s hard to stop reading and look away. Especially, in the story of a Muslim family that is into the old ways of arranged marriages and male dominance. There is a sub-plot that involves another police officer who works with Kala and he is trying to fend off his estranged wife who cheated on him but now wants him back. She is very jealous of Kala which brings forth more intrigue. Meanwhile, Kala’s life becomes a bit more complicated by her sister showing up. Her sister is in trouble with the law and headed for the lock up leaving her daughter with Kala. This is the second book in this series, the first being Cold Mourning. In Butterfly Kills we meet Kala Stonechild for the first time. Kala comes with some baggage as she was abused as a child. Each character seems to have personal problems to face. Yet, with all the personal crises the characters are dealing with, they are still, somehow, able to work to solve a murder in Ottawa. This book brings Kala to Ontario just in time to work on the torture of the student, the rape of a young mother working the campus help line and a self-defense killing of a husband by a wife wielding a hammer. The book goes on from there as the reader tries to figure out if the events are connected. Quill says: The author has picked an interesting setting for this book as Kingston has a lot to offer a mystery/thriller audience including: several prisons, Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence River, good for so many things such as drowning and smuggling...