Page 23 of The Long Game

“Sergeant Grady McDonnough, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Codiac detachment, at your service. I’ve read the full case file, spoken to the detectives who worked on the case, and reviewed the court transcript.”

Her mouth fell open and hung there. The only motion was the white smoke curling in the air above the cigarette in her hand.

“Also,” he continued, because in for a penny, in for a pound, “I’m free next Thursday and can drive you to your appointment for your knee.”

Her mouth snapped closed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m completely serious,” he said with a winning smile. “As long as it’s okay with Jack.”

Jack looked almost as stunned as his mother, but he gestured as if to sayshe’s all yours.

Grady bit back a laugh and turned back to Jack’s mother.

“Margaret? Can I call you Margaret?”

She scowled at him. “No.”

“Maggie?”

“Never.”

“Peggy?”

“Not if you want to live.”

“Do you have a suggestion, then?” Grady asked, forcing himself to keep a serious expression—which wasn’t easy when Jack had to press a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter.

“Mrs. Emile Chevalier,” she said in the tone one might use to introduce The Queen of England.

Jack snorted into his palm.

Grady grinned. “All right,Momit is.”

Jack’s mother growled. Jack’s eyes danced over the top of his hand.

“Now, Mom, Jack and I have to get going, but I’d be happy to come back with him later in the week. Is there anything in particular I can bring you?”

“No,” she said with a sniff.

“Not even a coffee or tea from the Dipsy Doodle Dangle?”

Thatgot her attention. “Maybe.”

“I’ll give you my number and if you want something, you can text either one of us. And, of course, if you ever need help and you can’t reach Jack, or he’s at work, you should feel free to contact me instead. Okay?”

She blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. And maybe not totally opposed.

Grady would take it as a win, though it had nothing on Jack’s happy smile.

4

Jack stood on the center dot of Moncton Arena’s ice sheet and bit his tongue in a bid not to burst into laughter.

Barnaby was a beautiful and talented man, but he wasnota naturally graceful athlete.

“You’re doing great!” Jack called heartily as Barnaby slowly made his way around the perimeter of the ice from the Zamboni door to the benches.

Fortunately, none of the campers were around to witness Barnaby’s obscene hand gesture.

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