The Maid's Diary(102)

“What they did—”

“Guys do things when in packs. Things they would never do on their own. They were high. Full of themselves. Drunk. It’s not who they are. This will never happen again. He asked for my help to get her out of the lodge.”

“He’s using you, Daisy.”

“He loves me. I won’t let her do this to me—ruin my chances . . . He’s going to marry me. Both our families know it. We have our future cut out, and I won’t let this stupid fat foreigner kid destroy what the two of us can become. We worked for it.”

I am fading out of consciousness. I feel them dragging me out of the car and down the few steps to our basement suite. I’m wrapped in an old blanket. It smells like dogs.

“She’s too heavy,” says a female voice.

“Just drag her.”

I feel a thump, thump, thump. Pain explodes in my body. I open my mouth to scream but still no sound comes.

I feel a jolt as I thud against our front door.

“Come,” whispers Daisy. “Quick.”

“We can’t just leave her here. She could die.”

“Look, a light’s gone on inside. They’ve heard us. Come. Run.”

I must have passed out fully then. The next I knew it was almost twelve hours later, and I was in my bed with my mother sitting on the side, holding my hand.

So you see, Dear Diary, Daisy has a due to pay, too.



Mal sits back. She runs her hands over her hair. “The prosecutor needs to see this,” she says to Benoit, sitting at his desk across the room. “This throws a whole new light on Daisy Rittenberg and her mother’s involvement in trying to shut that old investigation down. If this is true, Daisy played an active role in that assault, and someone who was there—Saelim, one of the others—must know who was with Daisy in that car. We need to find that other female.”

“And if she talks, Daisy is going down. But will she talk? Will the others give her up?”

“We’ll find her, and she’ll talk if she thinks it will save her own skin.” Mal is about to say something more to Benoit when Lula swings open the bullpen door, and Arnav enters behind her, carrying a large cake and burning candles. Arnav is followed by Gavin with sparkling wine and flutes, and by Jack with balloons.

“Don’t be mad,” Benoit says with a laugh at the shock on Mal’s face. “I couldn’t stop them.”

“Happy retirement, boss,” Lula calls out loudly. She sets the decadent cake on the desk in front of Mal. “Seeing as we couldn’t get you to come and get drunk with us tonight, we brought the party to you.” She hesitates. “Plus you can take cake home to Peter.”

Emotion fills Mal’s eyes. “Damn you people.” She meets each one’s gaze. “God, I’m going to miss you guys.”

Lula says, “Little bird tells me you’re going to be doing some consulting with that new independent cold case unit being started by the associate director of Lougheed University’s school of criminology, funded with a major grant. We haven’t heard the last of you yet, boss. That’s my bet.”

“Who told you this?” Mal says. “The request came in only this morning—I haven’t even fully decided. Can no one keep a secret in this place?”

“Our job is exposing them,” Benoit says. “Now blow out those candles before we all have to eat wax!”

Mal sucks in a deep breath and puffs. The candles go out, apart from one that keeps sputtering. She pauses, thinking that some flames really do not just go out. Lu is right. She’ll be back on select cases. Cold and old ones. But on her schedule, on Peter’s time. She blows out the final candle.



Boon sees the new post on Instagram.

His friend. Smiling. Tanned. So pretty and healthy-looking. At peace. Traveling. Not dead. But living her best life. He thinks of how he told Sergeant Mallory Van Alst that he dropped Kit near the Glass House and saw another Audi. That part wasn’t exactly true. Kit had forgotten to switch back the framed photo near the bar. She wanted to replace the one of her and him in Nicaragua with the Norths’ original photo. She switched it to fool Daisy when Daisy came for lunch at the Glass House—that’s how he saw the other Audi he told the cop about.

After Kit changed the photo, Boon drove her to the station, where she’d stashed her bags in a locker. She had her passport and a burner phone with her. She caught the SkyTrain straight to YVR while he drove the Audi back to the rental place.

His heart crunches.

Kit knows he will see this Insta post. She knows he will have been looking daily. She knows he will realize immediately where she is. Karma Beach. One of the places on her bucket list. Kinda like justice was always on Kit’s bucket list, thinks Boon.

And the hashtag has revealed what her next destination is: #popsvillage. It’s code for him. Boon told Kit how much he’d like to visit the small village in Thailand where his “pop” was born, where his parents met and married. Where he, too, was born.

“Come on in. Water is warm.”

Emotion fills Boon’s eyes as he smiles. His friend has forgiven him. She’s told him where she will be. And she’s opened the door for him to join her. If he so chooses.

And he will.





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