Deadly Fall by Susan Calder Page A

heart-shaped face sweaty and perplexed. Paula faced her to work the obliques.
    â€œIn Palm Springs, they saw a grunge band in a club,” Paula explained.
    â€œWhat, exactly, is grunge?” Anne said.
    â€œBeats me.”
    â€œCould be Dimitri’s ear-splitting teenage music,” Anne said. “That reminds me, a reporter interviewed him today while he was leaving Sam’s house. The clip should be on the eleven o’clock news.”
    Dressed for bed, Paula flicked on the tv and collapsed into the sofa cushion. Outdoors, a vehicle made a U-turn on her street. Its headlights scanned her dark living room. The light stung her eyes. She was desperate for sleep, but couldn’t miss the nightly news for Dimitri’s interview and any updates on the murder.
    Due to Callie’s involvement with Sam, Paula had followed Dimitri’s political career through the right wing Reform-turned-Alliance-turned-Conservative party. During his election campaign, the newspaper ran a profile piece in which the interviewer questioned him about his illegitimate birth. Dimitri spun his answer into support of family values by remarking he was glad his parents didn’t abort him. The next day a left-leaning columnist implied Dimitri’s parents had made an unfortunate choice. The columnist’s remark inspired a couple of letters-to-the-editor.
    On the screen, the news anchor reported on a hostage’s reunion with her family, after days of captivity in Iraq. He segued to a report about United States veterans who opposed a monument honoring draft dodgers in Nelson, BC . Shots of the picturesque mountain town. A sketch of the proposed statue. It could be a half hour before they got to the local stories.
    The anchor returned to the screen. “Federal Conservative member of parliament Dimitri Moss was shocked yesterday by the murder of his stepmother.”
    Paula jerked forward.
    â€œZoë Jensen talked to Mr. Moss at his father’s Calgary residence.”
    Bathed in sunlight, Dimitri spoke into a microphone. He looked down, not at the reporter or the camera. “I was in my office, answering constituents’ mail. My father came in and suggested we go for a coffee. He hadn’t done that before, but I didn’t think anything of it. I’d heard about the murder on the radio. Names weren’t mentioned. I had no idea.” His voice trailed.
    He wore a leather jacket and held a motorcycle helmet. His hair was thinning on top. Otherwise, he seemed a younger version of Sam; same muscular build and strong cheekbones. Dimitri stood in front of a bow window with closed blinds. The reporter asked for his reaction to the news.
    â€œDisbelief,” he said. “I last saw Callie on Labor Day weekend, less than three weeks before it happened, at a barbecue with family and friends. She was full of life.”
    â€œHow would you describe your stepmother, as a person?”
    He looked up. “She wasn’t my stepmother. She was my father’s wife. There was no reason for anyone to kill her.”
    â€œYour party advocates stiffer penalties for criminals. How will this experience influence your views on that issue?”
    Dimitri’s eyes narrowed. He looked ready to bark out an angry reply.
    â€œI have always been tough on crime,” he said. “Nothing has changed.”
    The reporter signed off. Calgary police had reported no new developments on the case.
    So, Dimitri didn’t accept Callie as his stepmother. Why would he? He was thirty when his father/friend married her. Still, his response had been sharp, his answer to the crime question sharper. The newspaper profile had referred to his temper as a trait he struggled to control. Callie had confirmed that, adding she thought Sam spoiled him, giving him everything he wanted. Anne worried about his motorcycle riding. He wasn’t reckless, she said, but bikes were intrinsically dangerous. The telephone rang. Paula