Silver's Bones (25 page)

“Oh no, no, no,” I said. I handed them paper towels and supervised them soaking up the urine and depositing the towels in a plastic bag. Next, I handed them a bottle of Mr. Clean and a scrub brush. While they cleaned up, I gave my leg a double scrub.

When I allowed them back outside, Luke looked up at me with big eyes and said, “Are you going to tell Mommy?”

“Nah, it's just between us guys.”

He held my gaze for a second before he and his buddy raced out the door. Shannon handed them their supersoakers. I sat next to my wife.

“What were they doing?”

“Playing a computer game.”

Without warning, Shannon and I were hit with blasts of pool water.

“Those supersoakers were a great idea, huh?” I asked.

She wiped water from her face and gave me the evil eye. “I wish I could drink,” she muttered.

I checked my phone in case dispatch had tried to call me.

What kind of a father was I going to be if I couldn't handle a kids' birthday party? At five o'clock the pizza arrived. At five thirty Luke opened presents, then we served cake and ice cream. We still had an hour to go, so we let them swim some more. All four of us sat poolside, shouting things like, “Watch out! Walk! No dunking! Get off him! Stop that right now!” Would this ever end?

 

 

After the last kid left,
our boys went off to play with Luke's new toys, and Shannon's folks and I sat around the table on the deck and drank margaritas. No one seemed to notice Shannon's was void of tequila.

“God, those boys are little dipsticks,” Richard said. “Pour me another drink, Cal.”

I filled his and mine.

“They're kids,” Donna said.

“Anyway, how would you know, Dad? You were inside most of the time,” Shannon said.

Oh, she's pissed.

“That's not true. Cal and I were out here for most of it,” Richard said.

“Didn't seem like it,” Shannon said.

“They liked the supersoakers,” I said.

“Yeah, but I think my plants are going to die from chlorine poisoning,” Shannon said.

Richard said, “In my day, we kids behaved or we got our heads knocked.”

“Men don't remember being rowdy boys,” Donna said to my wife. They exchanged conspiratorial glances as women do when discussing how clueless men are.

“Did you have fun, Cal?” Shannon asked.

“Not so much.”

“Me neither. Next time, it's one or two friends max,” Shannon said. “The pool was a grand idea in theory though, Sheehan.”

“Live and learn.”

“Tomorrow will be a day for relaxing. I'm looking forward to having a family day with just the four of us. Brit's off for the weekend.”

“I'm not really off tomorrow, babe.”

I had to talk to Laurel Wolfson and every dang clerk in every establishment that sold flowers. I didn't have a lot of hope.

 

Chapter 29

August 25

S
aturday morning Shannon was feeling pretty good, so before I left for work, I made scrambled eggs and sausage for the family. After breakfast, the boys went outside to play with Bullet and their supersoakers. The boys and my dog were good for each other.

Before I drove to the department, I checked out the Wolfsons. A 1996 black Suburban was parked in the carport but no one answered the door. Where the hell were they? Could they have split? I left a message for Laurel to call.

When I got back to the office, I dropped the ribbon off at the lab and left a note for Betty Abbott. Then I called Tamika in to tell her I needed her help. I made copies of photos of our main players and a list of businesses that sold bouquets. I split the list in two and told her our job was to ask every clerk in every store if they remembered anyone who bought one or two bouquets with any regularity.

“You're serious?”

“Yes, and it may take a few days.”

“I can't imagine . . .”

“What?”

“It seems like a lot of work for nothing.”

“That's what we do in investigations—a lot of work for nothing.”

Big sigh. “I'm on it.”

“And get a list of clerks not on duty, so we can go back and ask them later.”

“Jeez.”

 

 

Walmart was my first stop.
The manager there reiterated Jason Campbell's statement that there was no way to track the customers to sales of flowers. But I spent the rest of the day going from business to business interviewing clerks. When Tamika reported back to me, she had the same negative result I had. I drove by the Wolfsons again: still no one home.

As I walked in my back door, the fire whistle sounded, then minutes later the sirens screamed as the trucks left the station. Troy was supposedly on call.

Shannon greeted me with a beer. She was dressed in black shorts and a tight white tee. I liked the look.

“Looking good, Little Mama.”

I gave her a kiss.

“Did you hear the sirens?” I asked.

“A fire, no doubt, and do not check with dispatch.”

“I won't. Troy is probably handling it.”

My phone rang. Shannon and I exchanged glances.

“Dispatch,” I said to her before I answered.

“Deputy Sheehan, this is LaVonne. Troy Kern wants you to join him at a fire scene.”

“Where?”

“At the Valero residence.”

“All right.”

I hung up and looked at Shannon. “What?” she asked.

“There's a fire at Adriana's. Troy wants me to come out.”

“Well, you better go,” she said.

“So much for a family dinner,” I said, handing her my unopened beer.

“Can't be helped,” she said.

 

 

I saw the smoke
billowing
three miles away, and as I got closer, I could see flames shooting skyward. This was bad. I parked my truck on Ronson Road behind local news vehicles and walked in. I was stunned at the sight. Adriana's home was engulfed in flames. It was beyond saving.

There were five fire trucks, but they hadn't arrived in time to make much of an impact.

Deputy Jerry Olson approached me. He adjusted his pants to just under his big belly. He'd never pass a physical fitness test.
When is this man going to retire?

“Hey, Cal,” he said.

“Hey.”

“I was first responder. Took forever to get the trucks here.”

“Hopeless feeling.”

“You got that right. Heard you met my daughter, Jenny. She's got her application in. Chip off the old block.” He chuckled and nudged me.

“Guess so,” I said, hoping she was a better cop than her old man.

“That's something about her friend Silver Rae, eh? You looking at that whackjob Stillman?”

“We're looking at everybody . . . even you, Jerry.”

He got an alarmed look on his fat face. When he figured I was kidding, he broke into a grin. “Well, good luck with that whole deal.”

“Thanks.”

I left Jerry and walked over to the small huddle surrounding Adriana: Troy, Tamika, Maddie Mitchell, and Adriana's Great Dane, who looked nervous. I stroked Tino's back and he wiggled in beside me like he needed comforting.

“Everybody get out?” I asked.

Troy nodded.

I glanced at Adriana. Tears were streaming down her face. I went to her and took her face in my hands.

“You're okay, Adriana. That's all that matters. The house and all the shit can be replaced.”

“
She
did this, you know,” Adriana said.

I pulled my hands away and put them in my pockets. “Victoria?” I asked needlessly.

“She's evil. Sending the Beemer to Adam with the note must have pushed her over.”

“If this is her doing, she's certifiably nuts,” I said.

“Don't say that, she'll plead insanity,” Adriana said.

“Were you home?”

“No, Maddie and I had taken Tino for a long walk. On our way back we noticed the smoke.”

“Where will you stay tonight?” Tamika asked.

“With me,” Troy said.

“I don't have food for Tino now,” Adriana said.

Troy said, “I'll get some right away in the morning.”

How obliging
, I thought.

Fire Chief Lucky Holmgren found us. “By the time we got here, the house was too far gone to save. Basically we're just trying to contain the fire so it doesn't spread.”

“Everything's gone,” Adriana said.

“Do you have any idea what caused it?” I asked.

Lucky said, “An accelerant was used, most likely gasoline. Looks like it started on the deck and spread, but we'll see.”

Troy said, “No offense, Lucky, but I say we get us some expert help. I want this done right. And if Cal's right about the Lewis woman being responsible, we should do something soon before she disappears again. What if I send an email attaching a photo of her to all the sheriff departments in Minnesota saying she is wanted as a person of interest?”

“All right by me,” Adriana said. She turned to Troy, “I'll have to take tomorrow off and find a place to live and buy basics—like clothes. All I have is what's on my body. I'm going to call Phillip right now.”

She left and Tamika said to me, “About the flowers?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I do work on this report or finish with the flowers tomorrow?”

“I'm pretty sure one of us will handle this. Right, Troy?”

“Yeah, I'll do the paper on this one.”

Troy said he didn't feel well and took Adriana back to his place. I stayed until Lucky said the crew was convinced the fire was no longer a threat. Crime scene tape once again surrounded the property.

 

 

When I crawled
into bed,
Shannon said, “How bad was the fire?”

“A total loss.”

“Oh, no. Poor Adriana. So where's she going to live?”

“She's at Troy's tonight.”

“He's moving quickly.”

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking we should rent out my house instead of selling. What would you think if I ask Adriana if she'd be interested?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

But it would be one more way for Adriana to be in my life.

“Mom and Dad know I'm pregnant.”

“Did you tell them or did they guess?”

“Mom noticed I wasn't drinking. She said it's the only reason I'd refuse. Is it okay I told them?”

“You can tell anyone you want.”

 

Chapter 30

August 26

O
n Sunday morning after Bullet and I went for a run, I pulled the
Birch County Register
out of the newspaper box and glanced at the front-page story: More Trouble at Emmaline. Then I unfolded it and saw the photo they ran with the article. I froze. It was a silhouette of me cradling Adriana's face, with the fire in the background. It was dramatic and intimate—like we were still lovers. Why did I hold her face like that?

Shit—shit—shit.

It couldn't have been more than a few seconds and they snapped a photo? My first impulse was to trash it, but Shannon would find out anyway.
This is bad—really bad.
I set it on the counter and went upstairs to shower and dress, trying not to wake her.

When I got back to the kitchen, Brittany had eggs out on the counter. “I'm making an omelet. What do you like in yours?”

Razor blades and nails
. “Cheese and whatever else you want to toss in.”

“Okay. Cal, since this is the last week before school starts, I thought I'd take the boys to a different place every day: the big playground at the park, the county museums, the movies, the library . . . that kind of thing.”

“Sure.”

“Shannon says I should trade cars with her, but said we should run it by you first.”

“I can take your car . . . she can drive my truck.”

I pulled some bills out of my wallet and handed them to her.

Shannon walked into the kitchen fully dressed in her uniform and picked up the newspaper.

“I thought you didn't have to work,” I said.

“No, I told you I did.”

Shannon studied the photo of the fire—then looked at me, hurt written all over her face. “Ah, Sheehan.”

She threw the paper down, grabbed her purse and car keys and started walking out. “Brit wants your car today,” I said.

She fired the keys at me, hitting me in the chest. She grabbed my truck keys off the rack and left without another word. My chest stung where the keys hit.

Brit stood with her mouth open. I shrugged and took a sip of coffee.

When I got to work, the newspaper photo was taped to the bulletin board in the squad room. I took it off and threw it in the trash. Damn it. Deputies filed in for the squad meeting talking about the fire, a car crash outside of town handled by the state troopers, a shoplifter. Not the photo, thankfully.

After Patrice walked in and started the squad meeting, Shannon slipped just inside the door. She wouldn't make eye contact with me, and I kept checking.

“You've probably heard about the fire at Adriana Valero's home last night. According to Chief Holmgren it's a total loss and highly likely arson. Victoria Lewis is person of interest in this case, along with the other incidents on Ms. Valero's property. We emailed her photo to several jurisdictions in the state.”

She held up a blow-up of her driver's license photo.

“She may be blonde now,” I said.

“If you see her, bring her in. Troy's already out at Ms. Valero's with Chief Lucky Holmgren and some arson specialists from the BCA.”

Shannon ducked out as soon as she sensed Patrice was wrapping up.

 

 

As soon as I got
back
to my desk I texted her: “I love only you.”

I waited for a minute, but got nothing in return.

I texted “XXXOOO” and added three of those pink hearts. She had to know I was groveling using hearts and shit, but still no response.
She is so pissed.

I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to get my head back to the Dawson case. Laurel Wolfson finally answered my call. She said they were on their way back from a camping trip. We would meet at her place about three.

I drove out to Lake Emmaline to see how the investigation was going. When I pulled in, Mac Simmons from the
Prairie Falls Times
came around from the corner of the BCA mobile lab van, camera in hand, followed by Julia Hayes from WCCO television.

He asked her to show me the film she took from the chopper last night.

“Dramatic,” I said.

“Do you have anything for us about the fire?” she asked.

“Not a thing. Just got here. I haven't even talked to the BCA investigators.”

“They say it's arson,” Mac said.

“Yeah?”

“We'll talk later,” he said, then got in his car and left. He was a cool enough guy, but he wanted the scoop like anyone reporter would. Julia stuck around. There would be more reporters rolling in this morning.

Troy was standing on the sidelines watching two individuals dressed in coveralls and masks sifting through the debris.

“Know anything yet?” I asked.

Troy whistled to the two investigators. They walked over and took off their masks and gloves to shake hands with me. Troy introduced Sophia Bettendorf and Rick Eberly, both of whom looked to be somewhere north of forty. Sophia had light brown hair pulled into a ponytail that stuck out the back of her cap, and Rick had brown hair trimmed short, typical for us law enforcement types.

Rick said, “It appears the exterior of the residence and deck were saturated with an accelerant, most likely gasoline. Also, the patio door window on the lower level was broken and it's likely gasoline was also tossed around in there. We still have to run tests in the lab. Won't take much for a house to burst into flames with that kind of effort.”

Troy said, “I asked Tamika to check with local gas stations, to see if anyone filled gas cans recently. Also, to look in dumpsters for gas cans, clothing, that sort of thing.”

“I think Tamika may feel overloaded with tasks right now. I've given her some work on the Dawson case.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

“I'm talking to Laurel Wolfson this afternoon. Now, I'm going back in to see what else I can take back from Tamika or give to Crosby.”

“I'll be here all day,” Troy said. “Did you and Shannon see today's
Register
?”

“Yep.”

“What did she say about the photo?”

Before I had a chance to respond to a question I didn't want to answer, my phone rang. It was Austin Spanney.

“Spanky, what's up?”

“We need to talk,” he said.

“What about?”

“I'll tell you when I see you.”

“I'll be back in my office in ten.”

 

 

Spanky was alone
and pacing
in the squad room. When he saw me, he pulled a photo out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was of a blonde and him.

“That's Sadie Jones and me. I think she looks like her,” he said, pointing to the bulletin board. Victoria's photo had been pinned where the newspaper photo had been. I took the photo from him and held it up next to Victoria's.

“I see what you mean. Close, really close, but Sadie has a wider nose and a bigger chin than Victoria,” I said.

“But when she came into my apartment last night she smelled like gasoline. I told her so and she said she had just filled up her car. So I just accepted that, you know? Then last night when I threw my garbage in the dumpster, I saw paint cans . . . silver paint. This morning I started putting things together: the fire, the car ruined by silver paint, the kid who bought fabric for a blonde woman. It all fits. Oh, man, I'm sorry I didn't figure this out sooner.”

“You think this Sadie is Victoria?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Well, let's bring her in.”

“Can't. She left early this morning. She has a flight to New York tomorrow. She works for Ralph Lauren.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

“Downtown Minneapolis in a condo.”

“You've been there?”

“Sure.”

“The first thing we need to do is stop her before she takes off.”

“How?”

“We call Minneapolis PD. Give me the address.”

 

 

An hour later,
I called
Patrice and filled her in on what I knew.

“Officer Kim Werzer with MPD found Sadie Jones home at her condo. She denies even knowing Austin Spanney. I think someone should go down today to check it out. Ms. Jones is leaving for New York tomorrow morning.”

“Although technically it's Tamika's case, I think you should go and take Spanney with you to identify the woman,” Patrice said.

“I'd have to cancel an interview for this afternoon for the Dawson case.”

“Reschedule. I don't like arson in my county, either.”

I left a message for Laurel, then tried to reach Shannon. I wasn't surprised when she didn't answer my call.

My message: “Hi, babe, I've got to go to Minneapolis today. We're questioning someone in the arson case. Hopefully, I'll be home by dinner. We need to talk. You're my only love.”

She immediately answered with a text: “Photos don't lie. Asshole.”

Now
I
was pissed.

 

 

On the drive down
I
asked Spanky how he met Sadie.

“Well, I was sitting out on County 31 checking for speeders when she drove right by me going twelve miles over. So, I stopped her. She handed me what must have been Sadie's license and said she thought the limit was sixty-five. I ran it and she came back clean so I just gave her a verbal warning. She told me she'd buy me coffee at my break time.”

“That's her MO,” I said.

“I should have known she'd never go for me.”

“What are you talking about? You are her type—a big cop. When was this?”

“A couple months ago.”

“And you've been seeing her ever since?”

“Yeah, when she's around.”

 

 

Spanky directed me
to the
underground guest parking area of Sadie's high-rise condo unit on First Street. We had to check in with the desk clerk, who seemed to recognize Austin. He called to let Ms. Jones know we were there. After taking the elevator to the ninth floor, we turned right down a long corridor to 9032. A blonde, slender woman who was Victoria's doppelganger opened the door. She looked very concerned.

We showed our badges and thinking I didn't need to introduce Spanky, I only introduced myself.

“It's not her,” Spanky said.

“Of course it's me,” she said.

“No, I mean you're not my girlfriend.”

“I don't even know you,” she said.

“Are you Sadie Jones?” I asked. She sure looked like the DMV photo.

“Yes, come in,” she said.

We stepped inside the chic apartment decorated in black and white with splashes of color in pillows and the modern paintings.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” I said.

“No problem. I need to know what's going on.”

“May I see your ID?”

She went to a table, pulled out a wallet, and handed me her driver's license.

I set my computer on her black granite countertop to verify her license. It matched.

“Okay. I believe someone may have stolen your identity,” I said.

“Well, I did lose my driver's license a few months ago.”

She directed us to a seating area near the sliding glass doors to her balcony. She had a magnificent view of the Mississippi River and St. Anthony Falls. We sat on the white leather sofa, and she took the leopard print chair.

“Beautiful place,” I said.

“Thanks.”

“I'm not quite sure what's going on here,” she said.

“Have you noticed anything peculiar with your credit cards?”

“No, should I have?

“Do you know Victoria Lewis?”

“Sure. She's my roommate. This is her condo.”

I looked at Spanky. “And there it is.”

“You really look alike.” I said.

“We get that all the time. We used to pretend we were sisters in college.”

“How long have you known her?” I asked.

“We've been roommates since our freshman year in college.”

“So this is Victoria's condo?”

“Yes, it was a graduation present from her dad. We both travel a lot with our jobs, so it works out well.”

“Who's her current employer?”

“She's always worked for one of her dad's companies in one capacity or another—that is,
when
she works. Sometimes she escapes to Paris.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, if she has trouble with a job or a lover, which seems to happen frequently—never her fault—she blows the scene.”

“So it's a pattern.”

“You could say that.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Gee, a couple months, maybe. What's she done this time?”

“Victoria lived in Prairie Falls for a short time last fall, then suddenly left. We wanted to talk to her in connection with some threats she was receiving.”

“Really? She didn't tell me she was being threatened.”

“We have reason to believe she was behind them herself. So she's in a bit of trouble with the law for that.”

Sadie laughed. “That wouldn't surprise me.”

“But now we think she's back, pretending she's you, sneaking around, and creating havoc for her ex-stepmother.”

“Would that be Marcy or Adriana?”

“Adriana.”

“Oh, she hates her big time.”

“She's been dating Deputy Spanney for a couple months as Sadie Jones. Show her the photo, Austin,” I said.

He took out the photo and handed it to her.

“That's Victoria,” she said.

“You know her as a blonde?” I asked.

“Oh, she's always changing her hair color.”

“So, you're flying to New York tomorrow?”

“Yes, I'm a regional sales rep for Ralph Lauren.”