Frozen Stiff (19 page)

Amy took a sip of the pop. A pack of Smarties is what it tasted like. “Well, at the moment, it doesn’t look like she did it. Do you know if your father had a gun in the house?”

“Not to my knowledge. He was never a hunter. Didn’t really like the woods at all. A golf course was what he thought all of nature should be.” Danielle thought for a second, then asked, “So where was Sherri when it happened?”

“She was in the house. Her car was in the garage. The tire tracks don’t match either car.”

“Oh.” Danielle’s eyes turned down and she tapped her lip with a long fingernail. “Was he shot with a shotgun?”

“Yeah, how did you guess that?” Amy asked, wondering how this city girl even knew what a shotgun was.

Danielle’s face went pale and blank. “It might be my fault.”

4 pm

“Rich said you wanted to be woken up now.”

Claire opened her eyes to see Meg standing over her. The world swam into focus. She pushed herself up in bed and realized she hadn’t even taken her uniform off. But that was probably a good thing. Then she wouldn’t have to get dressed again. She glanced out the window. There was still some daylight. She would have time to go back to the department and check in with everyone.

“I brought you a cup of coffee,” Meg said, handing it to her.

“You’re a doll.” Claire took a deep sip of coffee, blessing both her daughter and her about-to-be husband. If she wasn’t marrying him anyway, she’d marry him for his coffee.

“What happened last night? Rich said someone got killed.” Meg sat down on the edge of the bed.

Claire knew the news would be blasted all over the papers tomorrow: Daniel Walker was a prominent member of Twin Cities society. “You know that guy who almost froze to death?”

“Mr. Walker?”

“Well, he was killed last night.”

“Like murdered killed?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s Danielle’s dad, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“That’s weird. Curt and I were just talking about her at school today. How strange it is that she’s going out with Andy Palmquist—you know that friend of Curt’s. The one I told you about who’s so into violent videogames. Calls himself Danger Man. Curt said he’s getting kinda weird.”

“Hmm.”

Claire’s cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. When she answered it, she heard Amy’s voice saying something, then breaking up. “What?”

“I’m on my way back, but I wanted to tell you...” The phone cut out for a second, then Amy was back on.

“I didn’t get that. Repeat it.”

“Danielle thinks Andy Palmquist might have had something to do with Walker’s death.”

“Andy?”

Meg looked at her.

“I’ll check it out.” When Claire hung up the phone, she asked Meg, “Was Andy at school today?”

Meg shook her head. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t like coincidences.”

5 January: 4:30

I
n the middle of the winter, the sun set way too early. Claire turned the car lights on as she drove down highway 35. The last traces of the sun were fading from the south-western sky, straight across the lake. Claire knew there would be no moon tonight. Since she had moved down to the country, she paid attention to the moon cycles like some people watched their stocks. She knew tonight was a new moon, which meant nothing showed in the sky. If you looked hard you might find a black orb, but that was all.

As she was driving down Hegstrom Lane, she knew she was coming close to the Palmquist’s driveway when a pickup truck shot past her. She saw that there was a single man in the vehicle but in the waning light couldn’t make out more than that.

She parked out front of the house and walked up to the side door. When she knocked a thin woman wearing a green and gold sweatshirt came to the door, looked Claire up and down and then asked, “What can I do for you?”

Claire was surprised by how young the woman was and asked, “Are you Mrs. Palmquist?”

“Yes,” the woman said a little defiantly. She crossed her arms and stood halfway out of the door.

“I’m Claire Watkins. I work for the sheriff. I was wondering if your son Andy is here?”

The woman couldn’t be more than late thirties. She must have had Andy when she was still a teen. “Nope. Just left.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“Didn’t say anything to me. I’d guess he might be going hunting since he had his shotgun.”

Claire didn’t like this at all. Too late in the season to hunt, and too late in the day. “Kinda late to go hunting?”

“Sometimes he shoots squirrel.”

“You know where he might have gone?”

“Why’d you want to know?”

“I just need to ask him a few questions.”

“He in trouble?”

“Not necessarily. Was he here last night?”

“Far as I know.”

Claire decided not to push it. Her main objective right now was to get to Andy before he could get rid of the gun, if that’s what he was up to. Why wouldn’t he have dumped it the night before? She needed to find out. “He driving a red pickup?”

“That’s the one.”

Damn, Claire thought as she climbed back into the squad car. I should have followed my gut and turned around when I saw the truck leaving. She turned back toward the lake and punched the accelerator. The squad car squealed and slid, then careened down the iced over road as the speedometer hit fifty.

4:35 pm

When Rich walked in the house it was so quiet he thought no one was home. He sloughed off his coat and unwound his scarf, then looked into the living room. Meg and Curt were sitting across the table from each other, staring at something. Took him a second to realize they were playing chess.

“Hey, you two. What’s up?”

“I’ve nearly got his queen,” Meg bragged.

“Don’t get your hopes up. My knight has plans for that little lady.”

“Where’s your mom?” Rich asked. “She get up?”

“Yeah, I woke her like you told me. She went off to talk to Andy Palmquist. He might be the killer,” Meg announced.

“Meg, don’t say that. You don’t know,” Curt said. He glared at her. She glared back.

“When did she leave?”

“About a half hour ago, I’d guess. Maybe not so long. How long have we been playing, Curt?”

“Close to that.”

“She said to tell you she’d be back for supper.”

“I was thinking about making some chili.”

“And grilled cheese?” Meg added.

“Sure. Curt, you going to join us?” Rich asked.

“Sounds good.”

4:40 pm

“Thanks for driving me,” Danielle said in a quiet voice, “I’m not sure I could have done it.”

“No problem.” Amy was glad to hear her talk. Danielle hadn’t said anything since Prescott, about fifteen miles ago. She was starting to get worried about her, wondering if she was going into shock or something. For that reason, Amy had turned the heat in the squad car on full blast.

“I don’t think I could have driven right now. I can’t feel anything, like this isn’t real.” Danielle slapped her hands together.

Amy was glad she knew the curving path of Highway 35 as well as she did because it was pitch black outside. Her headlights shone on the snow-packed sides of the road. “How’d you meet Andy?” she asked.

“Down at the beach last summer. Nothing else to do in that stupid little town so when I went down for the weekend with my dad, I figured I might as well work on my tan.”

“Isn’t he kinda young for you?”

“A couple years. He was fun. Again there’s not a lot of choice down there. Most of the guys who hang out at the bars are gross. At least Andy wasn’t gross. Plus, he has a good bod.” Danielle continued, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. We only hung out a couple times. It wasn’t that serious or anything. What’s really weird is that he came up for a picnic one day and kinda got along with my dad. And Sherri thought he was darling. I don’t really get it.”

“Why do you think he might have killed your dad?”

“It’s just that he got so mad when he heard about my dad not giving me any money for my condo. I don’t know. I think Andy thought that if I could get the condo then I’d be in his debt or something. It sounds crazy, but I just think he did it.”

5 January: 4:40 pm

C
laire caught up with Andy’s truck as he drove across Highway 35 going toward the lake.

She hated to think about what might have happened to her car if she had skidded off the road as she took the turns around snow-covered fields too fast. But she had caught up to him. He was about a block ahead of her. She slowed, hoping he might not notice her.

He passed Main Street and drove down the hill to the lake, then bumped over the railroad tracks and went off the road and headed to the beach on a snow-packed road made by various vehicles going out on the ice.

She stopped at the top of the hill and watched the pickup truck start out across the lake. In the distance she could see the night-time glimmerings of Lake City in Minnesota; closer in, the dark shapes of the ice-house village past the middle of Lake Pepin. That appeared to be where Andy was headed.

An ice house.

Not a bad place to dump a gun. No way to get to it before spring and by that time it could have been carried halfway to New Orleans. The boy wasn’t stupid. She turned off her headlights and
drove slowly down the hill. She wanted to get as close as she could before he saw her coming. If he went into an ice house, she might be able to get the jump on him.

As the squad car crunched across the frothy ice at the shoreline, she saw him drive into the jumble of shacks. She hung back as he parked the truck and then sped up slightly to get in closer. When she was within a few car lengths, she turned off the car and let it creep forward with leftover momentum. She tried to call for back-up but her phone wasn’t connecting. She’d have to chance it.

Andy entered an ice house. Claire jumped out of the squad car and ran after him. Running on the snow-covered ice was not easy and she needed to keep her eyes on the ice house so she wouldn’t lose track of which one it was.

The cold tore at her throat and lungs, wind whipping up chunks of ice off the ground-up snow. Her feet slid as she ran and once she went down on one knee but pushed off and ran up to the ice house.

Claire stopped for a second to catch her breath and figure out her best strategy. He had a gun. She couldn’t just burst in on him. Even if he had done nothing wrong, he was liable to shoot at her.

Darkness gathered around the edges of the lake, with the ice glowing phosphorus white as if lit from underneath.

The sound of a gunshot tore out from the ice house, echoing out and out across the lake.

4:50 pm

“Where do you want to go?” Amy asked as they drove through Maiden Rock. The little town was deserted, only the Christmas
lights dangling from the light posts gave any sense that there was life in the town.

“Do you think I can see my dad?”

Amy knew the body had been taken to the morgue. “Now? I don’t think so. Do you really want to?”

Danielle shook her head. Then she said with a trembling voice, “I don’t know. I feel like if I could, it would help me believe what is happening. Do you think you could get me in to see him? Like I could identify him. They do that all the time on TV. They always get to see the body.”

“Not tonight. Maybe we can set it up tomorrow. Where do you want to go tonight?”

“I don’t want to stay in that stupid motel again. That was horrible. I suppose up to the cabin.”

Amy couldn’t stop the snort that came out of her, but was instantly sorry. “Just doesn’t seem like a cabin.”

“That’s what my dad called it. His cabin. He loved that place. He really did. I know you think he was just a rich bastard, but he loved me.” Danielle started to cry. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Amy said as she turned up Rustic Road leading to the top of the bluff. The effects of almost no sleep were starting to come crashing down on her. She wanted to get rid of Danielle and get home to her bed before she plowed off the road and ended up in a snowbank.

When they arrived at the Walker’s “cabin,” all the lights were on, as if that would keep away the dangers. Danielle got out of the car and stood looking at the front of the house.

When Sherri opened the door, the warm air of the house billowed out, foggy and visible.

“What do you want?” Sherri asked. “I thought the cops were done here.”

Amy felt compassion for both of them. When someone was killed there was so much anger and no place to put it. She could feel the tension between the two women and hated to think of them lashing out at each other. Neither of them needed or deserved that. She stepped in. “I brought her down, Mrs. Walker. We needed to question her. It would be great if you could put her up for the night.”

Danielle flashed her a look of relief. Sherri grudgingly held the door open for both of them.

Danielle walked in and put her small tote bag on the floor of the entryway. “I’m sorry about Dad, Sherri.”

“Yeah, it’s been awful.”

Danielle folded in on herself, her arms crossing over her stomach. For a moment, she said nothing, then she looked up at Sherri. “And it might be all my fault. I didn’t realize Andy was going off the deep end. I think I might have pushed him too hard. I’m afraid that he might have killed Dad.”

Sherri rocked back in horror. “Andy? Not Andy? Why would you think that he might do it?”

4:50 pm

The silence after the gunshot was immense.

Claire listened at the door of the icehouse, then heard an odd sound, like someone was scratching at the ice. What had happened in there?

After unholstering her gun, she grabbed the door and pulled it open, standing to the side of the entrance. A light illuminated
the interior of the ice house and she could see inside and what she saw pulled her forward.

Andy had his back to her and was kicking at a hole in the ice, working at making it larger. He held the shotgun in his hand while he kicked at the hole with his heel. He had blasted a hole in the ice with the shotgun, but it was not big enough to push the gun through it.

When the door swung back, he turned and saw her, then tried to jam the gun down into the hole.