“Jesus. Isn’t he in Ottawa?” And then the pieces fell into place. “He was staying at his parents’ house.”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he the mouthpiece for the Minister whose head is on the chopping block?”

There was slight pause. “Do you feel up to handling this case?”

Cooper closed his eyes. Adrenalin pumped through him. The case was meaty. Intriguing. Exactly what he needed to launch this new chapter in his career.

But this was a different kind of police work than what he had been doing for the past seven years. In Vice, he had worked his cases on the Internet, luring child predators and lurking on forums.

It had marked him in ways he never would have believed when he was assigned to that unit.

“Yes. I’ve reviewed all the procedures.” He injected his voice with calm confidence. After years working undercover, he knew how to project the image that others expected. “I can handle it.”

The chill miasma of Steph’s doubt drifted over him. Turning his back, he reached for a shirt from his closet.

“This is critical, Ellis. I wouldn’t even be putting you on such a high-profile case yet if Bruce and Mercer weren’t tied up. But you came highly recommended.”

All those commendations had paid off. The price had been high in his personal life, but it had given him a chance when he desperately needed it. “I’ll report back to you when I’m done.”

He dressed quietly, his mind preoccupied with the case. He turned to the door.

“Are you going to be gone long?” Steph called.

“I won’t be back before you go to work.” He shrugged on his jacket as he strode over to where she lay in bed, and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ve got to go. Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay.”

What had he been hoping for? Good luck on your first case with GIS?

Or even… “I love you.”

He picked up Lamond within sixteen minutes. Thirty minutes after he had taken the call from his new boss, he drove into the maelstrom that enveloped the Owen property. He approached the house at reduced speed, observing the scene. It had already been taped off, and the people clustering on the sidewalk had been pushed back by the street patrol.

They both heard the low mosquito-buzz of a drone as they neared the Owen neighborhood.

“It’s a bird, it’s a plane…” Lamond joked as Cooper turned onto the quiet North end street. A small smile lifted the corners of Cooper’s mouth. From what he could tell, his new partner was on a permanent high. Even at 3:01 in the morning.

And even at 3:01 in the morning, pajama-clad neighbors huddled in small groups—held back from the Owen’s house by the patrol constables manning the scene—and pointed to the sky.

“Glad that Pearson ordered extra patrol to keep the scene tight.”