Thin Ice by Nick Wilkshire Page B

of business for the morning.
    Staff Sergeant Beaudoin had made the decision to hold off on re-interviewing Tom Saunders until they had done some more legwork. A couple of investigators had left for Toronto, around the time Smith and Marshall were returning from Peterborough, to interview hotel staff and anyone else who might have witnessed the late-night altercation in March between Saunders and Ritchie. Ritchie’s autopsy was also scheduled for eleven the next morning, and it was thought wise to have the results in hand before they decided to take a hard look at Saunders.
    Smith yawned and stretched his arms over his head. It had been a long day indeed, and he was eager for the first sip of cold lager. He looked toward the bar, unusually crowded for a Sunday night, and thought of his cancelled trip to Toronto, where his buddies were no doubt three sheets to the wind by now. As he continued his scan of the room, he noticed a trio of women at the far end of the bar. When the blonde turned, he felt the air leave his chest as he saw recognition in her eyes. He looked desperately for Marshall, still chatting with the bartender. Looking back at the blonde, she was talking to her friends, and then … heading his way.
    â€œHi, Jack. How are you?”
    It always amazed him how at ease she seemed in his presence, when the sight of her sent him into such turmoil. He had first laid eyes on Lisa White in a courtroom in St. John’s, where she was defending a client Smith had arrested for impaired driving. White was a keen young lawyer then, just a couple of years out of law school and looking to make her mark. And the vigour of her cross-examination made it very clear that no one was going to get in the way of that goal. She had spent thirty minutes excoriating him before finally letting Smith down from the stand. Despite the ferocity of her attack, though, he had harboured no ill will toward her. He liked to credit this benevolence to his good-natured spirit, but it likely had more to do with the fact that Lisa White was the most beautiful lawyer he had ever seen. And so, when they bumped into each other down in the coffee line of the nearby food court after the trial was over, he graciously accepted her offer to buy him a cup, just to show that what she had put him through upstairs wasn’t personal.
    But from that initial encounter, things had quickly become personal, indeed. For Smith, and he was sure she felt the same, those first two years were the happiest of his life. They were well on their way to marriage, kids, a dog, and a picket fence when she suddenly decided that St. John’s was too small for her. Although he didn’t really understand what it was she was after, it was clear to Smith that she couldn’t be happy until she at least tried to find it. So, when a job at a law firm in Ottawa came up, Smith had left his home, family, and friends and a job that he truly loved so that she could follow her dream. The possibility that he might not be a part of it had never even occurred to him.
    â€œLisa. I haven’t seen you in … it’s been a while. How you doing?”
    â€œGreat. I took the summer off. I was travelling for a while, spent a couple of weeks in St. John’s.”
    â€œGuess that explains why I haven’t seen you around,” he said, although they didn’t exactly travel in the same social circles. “How’d you manage to take the whole summer off? I thought you lawyers were all obsessed with billing time.”
    She grinned. “I wasn’t off the whole time, just working remotely.”
    â€œI’ll have to try that sometime.”
    â€œSo, I guess you’re working this Ritchie thing?”
    He nodded. “Everyone’s working it. I was supposed to be in Toronto this weekend.”
    â€œGetting shitfaced with the old gang?”
    â€œSomething like that, yeah. Instead, I have to drink with this guy,” he said, as Marshall