Free The Frailty of Flesh by Sandra Ruttan Page B

flowed west to east, from Vancouver through the Greater Vancouver Area. The Tri-Cities of Port Moody, Coquitlam and Port Coquitlam were not just home to thousands of people. They were a traffic corridor to Maple Ridge and Pitt Meadows, even Mission.
    And like so many Canadian cities the GVA was hampered by its habitat. With the Burrard Inlet, along with the parks and mountains, to the north; the Fraser River to the south; and cities on every other side there was no real room for growth. Like Burnaby and New Westminster, the Tri-Cities were bursting at the seams and the only way to expand was up, which could explain why high-rise condominiums reached to the sky wherever developers could gain access to enough land to build on.
    The traffic would get much worse over the next few hours, but it was already enough to test Craig’s patience. That, and being forced to bring Luke Geller with him.
    As they crossed the bridge over the Coquitlam River Craig’s cell phone rang. He flipped it open and lifted it to his right ear as he shoulder-checked and switched lanes, preparing for a left turn.
    “Craig Nolan.”
    “Emma Fenton.”
    It took him a moment to unclench his jaw. “I have nothing to say to you.”
    “How can you be so sure? You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
    The advance turning light flashed and Craig did a quick check to make sure the traffic from the other direction understood red meant stop before proceeding across the Lougheed Highway.
    He lowered his voice. Luke could still hear him, but that wasn’t the point. It made him sound less angry than he felt. “I don’t have time for this.”
    “I—”
    He snapped the phone shut without listening to more.
    From the corner of his eye Craig could see Luke glance at the phone in his hand and then his face, but Craig didn’t offer an explanation. He could feel the burn in his skin. Despite the fact that he was a younger officer he’d already dealt with his share of negative press and he had no desire for more.
    Especially not when it involved his dad. And not when it could keep him from getting back on regular rotation.
    Just before they reached Ulster Street he slowed down well below the speed limit and surveyed the area. He was approaching the south end of the road his parents lived on, and to his right was a wooded area with walking trails that led through Hyde Creek Nature Reserve.
    Nothing seemed unusual or out of place. When he turned on to Ulster Street he continued slowly. Steve and Alison Daly’s home was on a residential road, with a number of houses lining both sides. The south end was filled with newer homes in more modern, similar styles while the north end contained some of the older homes in the area that could not be classified as cookie-cutter houses. Each was distinctive enough in shape, siding or features to be easily identified. There were a few cars parked on the road, but not as many as usual, which Craig attributed to the fact that many people still hadn’t returned from work.
    When he reached the end of the street he turned on Apel Drive and drove a short distance. Luke frowned, looked about to speak, but in the end stayed silent. Craig turned the vehicle around.
    Steve and Alison Daly lived in a home near the north end of Ulster Street. Craig’s dad had a good eye for property and had bought a handful of houses over the years. After strategic repairs he’d been able to sell some and make a decent profit.
    This had been an untapped area for a long period of time, and the Dalys had moved when houses were still cheap by Lower Mainland standards. It meant they had an older home, one that was unique.
    It meant it wasn’t likely an intruder got the wrong house if they were targeting Steve and Alison Daly.
    Craig parked and got out of the vehicle.
    Luke followed. “How do—”
    “I have a key.”
    It only took a second for Craig to locate the right one. Once the door was unlocked he nudged it open. “Alison? It’s Craig.”
    No