“Dad, no! Stay away from him!” Harry Owen lunged behind his father. He reached for the back of his father’s wheelchair.

* * *

Mel Owen propelled toward Leah so fast that she was unable to get out of the way in time. His wheelchair slammed into her knees.

Her elbow smashed into Mel Owen’s face.

“Leave my father alone!” Harry screamed at her, his voice hoarse with anger.

And fear.

She got her feet under her and staggered sideways toward the window. Harry’s words echoed in her ears. God, he thought she wanted to hurt Mel Owen.

She held out her hands. “I’m—”

A shot filled her ears.

Her leg stung. And then exploded into fiery pain.

She gasped as another shot slammed into her shoulder.

She pitched to the floor. It was hard. It was warm. It was wet. Hot, metallic liquid slipped under her body.

She was floating in hot liquid mercury.

“Oh, my God!”

Through the blackness that flooded her brain, she heard the shock in Harry’s voice.

Through the agony screaming through her nerves, she felt remorse crush her chest.

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

2:29 a.m.

The phone had barely rung when Cooper Ellis snatched it from the bedside table, slid out of bed, and answered it with a soft, “Ellis.” He hurried into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him.

“It’s Pearson.” Detective Sergeant Mike Pearson was the head of General Investigative Services—and Cooper’s new boss. “We have a B&E, possible robbery involving prohibited firearms. We need you and Lamond at the scene.”

“What happened?”

“The husband was woken up at approximately 02:08 by a noise. His wife fell out of bed while calling 9-1-1. She’s dead.”

“How?”

“Not sure. She was ill. But the homeowner claims that the suspects killed her. One got out through the window.”

“Why aren’t you calling in Homicide?”

“They are tied up with the Baker case.” A gang-fuelled multiple homicide had occurred last night.

“How many were there?”

“We don’t know.”

He heard sheets rustling. Then the bedroom door opened.

“Coop?” Steph blinked at him.

He felt a rush of irritation, then guilt that she felt she had to check on him. He held up a hand and mouthed, “work.”

She nodded and padded back to bed. But he sensed her alertness in darkness.

“Cooper? Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry, Sergeant. My wife—” was checking on me. He swallowed the words. “—woke up. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He walked into the bedroom. Steph made no pretense of sleep. She watched him as he reached for his chinos, phone still pressed to his ear.

Pearson continued, “The place will be crawling with media.”

Cooper zipped his fly. “Slow news night?”

“No. The house belongs to the parents of Halifax’s MP.”

Cooper lowered his voice. “Harry Owen?”

“The one and only.” Pearson’s tone would have been dry if it weren’t for the situation.