Spilled Blood (32 page)

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Authors: Brian Freeman

BOOK: Spilled Blood
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‘So you think Aquarius stayed there?’

Altman nodded. ‘That’s right. At first, I figured Aquarius might be setting up this kid as a fall guy. Anyone familiar with the environmental
movement knows his name and knows his fingerprints would pop in the system. Then we ran a guest list at the hotel for the past six months, and one name leaped out.’

‘Who?’

‘Vernon Clay.’

‘So that’s why it raised a red flag that Ashlynn was talking about him. You think Vernon is back?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Nobody at the hotel remembered him or recognized a description of him. If it’s not Vernon, it’s someone who knew we’d spot the name immediately. The address on the register led us right here to this farm. That’s not an accident. He wanted us to find the kid, find the hotel, find the guest list. He made it hard but not too hard. He wanted to get our attention.’

Chris looked at the Honda Civic parked behind the barn. ‘What about the car?’

‘The Minnesota plates don’t match the VIN. We’re trying to trace it.’

‘If Vernon Clay really is Aquarius, has he been hiding out here?’

‘It doesn’t look that way. The house is largely untouched. He’s been doing his work in the barn. The property belongs to the family of a widow who passed away three years ago. None of the kids are local. The place has been vacant since she died, and they haven’t been able to sell it. Someone called them in December about renting it for a year and sent them a lump sum in cash. They didn’t ask a lot of questions.’

‘Did you talk to Florian?’

‘I did. He says there is no reason why Vernon Clay would bear a grudge against himself or Mondamin.’

‘What about Ashlynn? Did you tell him that she was asking questions about Vernon Clay?’

Altman shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. ‘I did.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said her mind had obviously been poisoned by Glenn Magnus and his son.’

‘It was more than that,’ Chris said.

‘She knew something.’

‘Is that a guess, or do you know that for a fact?’

Chris hesitated. He thought about Rollie and Tanya. ‘I’m not sure what I can say right now.’

The county attorney didn’t hide his annoyance. ‘I’ve kept you in the loop, Mr. Hawk, because you made a connection between Ashlynn and Vernon Clay at the same time that Vernon’s name appeared in the context of our Aquarius investigation. However, the favor goes both ways. I expect you to share anything you know that might help me find this man. Whatever he’s planning, the threat is real.’

Chris had to make a snap decision, and he chose to trust Michael Altman. ‘Ashlynn told Tanya Swenson that she had proof that Florian was involved in a cover-up connected to the deaths in St. Croix. This was the night before she was killed.’

Altman’s lips wrinkled with distaste. ‘What kind of proof?’

‘She didn’t say.’

‘So how exactly does that help me?’

‘Aquarius knew about it,’ Chris said.

‘He sent a note to Rollie Swenson warning him to keep quiet. He threatened Tanya’s life.’

‘Why didn’t Rollie tell me about any of this?’ Altman asked.

‘He’s scared for Tanya. He probably has reason to be. If Vernon Clay really is Aquarius, and if Ashlynn found him, then you have to admit it’s a possibility that he killed her to keep her quiet.’

‘Let’s wait to see how this plays out,’ Altman told him. ‘Right now, I just want to find Aquarius and stop him.’

‘Kirk Watson may know something,’ Chris said.

‘Kirk’s just a thug.’

‘Yes, but he works for Florian. Rollie thinks Kirk tried to assault Tanya to intimidate her into silence. There’s something else, too. Ashlynn went out with Kirk a few times last fall, but Johan said
she wasn’t interested in him. It wasn’t romantic. Now I wonder if she was trolling for information about her father and Mondamin. And maybe Vernon Clay, too.’

‘Kirk’s not going to tell us anything. Not if it involves Florian.’

‘You may be too late anyway.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Johan Magnus told Tanya he was trying to find a gun. She thinks he’s going after Kirk.’

Altman closed his eyes and let out a slow breath in frustration. ‘It’s Pandora’s box in this town. Bad things are happening, Mr. Hawk, and I’m afraid that I’m not going to be able to stop it before we all get swept away.’

‘I’d like to know what Ashlynn found out about her father,’ Chris said.

The county attorney frowned, as if he were again debating how much to share. He walked away from Chris and spoke to the police who were sifting through fragments of shredded paper. When he returned, he had a sealed plastic bag in his hand. ‘Did you say that Ashlynn told Tanya Swenson that she’d found proof connecting Mondamin to the deaths in St. Croix?’

‘That’s what she said.’

Altman held up the plastic bag. There was a single sheet of paper inside. ‘Aquarius left us another bread crumb.’

‘What’s that?’ Chris asked.

‘We found bags of shredded paper in the garbage. It will take us weeks to figure out what it all is. However, there was one page in the middle of the pile that wasn’t destroyed. This page. He obviously meant for us to find it.’

Chris leaned closer to study the paper. The plastic was speckled with rain. He didn’t recognize the document inside, but he could see that it wasn’t a note from Aquarius. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s the cover page of a report prepared by a woman named Lucia Causey.’

He shook his head. He’d heard the name, but he couldn’t place it. ‘I’m not familiar with her.’

‘Lucia Causey is a Stanford epidemiologist,’ Altman explained. ‘She was the special master in the litigation against Mondamin. She wrote the scientific analysis that the judge used to dismiss the lawsuit.’

38
 

Lenny waited until dark to return home.

He hoped that Kirk’s temper had cooled. It was obvious after he spent two hours near the Indian monument, nursing his bruises, that his brother wasn’t coming back for him. He’d hitchhiked with a truck driver into Barron and spent most of the day playing video games at the pizza parlor on Main Street. His phone didn’t ring. Kirk didn’t try to call. That was ominous.

As night fell, he tried to bum a ride south, but no one was heading his way. He hiked in the rain. His jaw ached like shit; he was sure it was broken. He limped, too, with his right knee throbbing. The miles were slow and miserable. He stuck out his thumb when he saw headlights, but the drivers ignored him. He tried to stay under the shelter of the trees, but the rain found him anyway. After walking for an hour, he found himself shivering uncontrollably.

When he finally lurched down 120th toward the river, he found their house dark. Kirk wasn’t home. He was glad he didn’t have to face his brother yet. He unlocked the door and went inside, and made a beeline for the bathroom in the hallway. He ran a bath, making the water as hot as his fingers could stand. As he waited for the tub to fill, he peeled off his clothes and left them in a soggy pile on the tile floor. Before the water reached the top, he dipped one foot into the bath, then the other. His frigid skin felt scalded. He sank to his knees, and the blistering water stung his genitals. He didn’t care. He sank onto his back, wincing as the heat assaulted every cut and bruise.

His shivering subsided. He was warm again, burning and sweating. He closed his eyes. Under the water, he reached for his shaft and twiddled it until it grew hard, sprouting from the surface of the bath like a pink mushroom. He thought about Olivia as he masturbated. The mental image of her sitting on the edge of the tub as he jerked off sent him flying. He shot wriggling ropes of semen into the dirty water. Sticky strands stuck to his legs.

He was still breathing hard when the front door slammed like a cannon going off. Kirk was home. He heard his brother’s wild voice bellowing through the house, and his intestines convulsed in fear.


Leno, where the fuck are you?

Lenny scrambled to his feet, white goo dripping from his deflated shaft. He clawed for a bath towel, but before he could wrap it around his body, Kirk kicked open the door so hard that the top hinge splintered and cracked. His brother filled the entire doorway. His long hair was loose. Beer smell burped from his mouth; he was wide-eyed drunk.

‘Kirk, listen—’ Lenny began, but his brother took two steps, grabbed him by the throat and hauled him out of the tub. Kirk took Lenny’s scrawny shoulders and threw him across the slippery floor. Lenny stumbled out of the bathroom, and his forehead cracked on the wall. He was hot and dizzy; he staggered forward, and his pizza and Mountain Dew evacuated his stomach, barely missing his brother.

Kirk took a fistful of Lenny’s hair. He dragged him, naked, into the living room, and drove him face-first into the carpet with a knee in the small of his back.

‘You useless fucking moron,’ Kirk hissed.

Lenny’s mouth was sour with vomit. He tried to talk. ‘I’m sorry, man.’

‘Sorry? Who gives a shit if you’re sorry?’

Kirk spun Lenny onto his back and leaned an elbow into his
chest with a crushing pressure. Tears leaked from Lenny’s eyes.

‘Really, Kirk, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ He squirmed in pain. It felt like a knife driving between his ribs. ‘Johan snuck up on me, man. He kicked the shit out of me. There was nothing I could do. He made me tell him, man. I didn’t want to.’

‘Tell him what?’

‘About Olivia. About what we did to her.’

Kirk swatted Lenny’s head down like he was breaking a coconut. Lenny saw nothing but swirls of color. He thought he would throw up again.

‘You worthless fucking piece of shit, get the hell out of this house and don’t come back.’

‘Please, Kirk.’


Get out.

His brother released him, and Lenny could breathe again, but each breath ached in his ribs. He pushed himself up on his elbows. Kirk stared at him as if he were a maggot in a bowl of rice. He’d seen Kirk furious before, but not like this. This was bad.

‘I’ll get some clothes,’ Lenny said.

‘Forget the clothes. Get out. Now.’

‘Hey, come on, man.’

Kirk’s eyes were black with rage. Lenny scampered to his feet, feeling the world spin. He knew better than to protest again. He ducked backward, colliding with the front door. It opened, and he spilled outside into the fierce rain. The water felt like ice. He clutched the railing and descended the porch steps to the mud.

Kirk was right. He’d fucked up. After everything Kirk had done for him, he’d let him down again.

Lenny didn’t know where to go. He was naked. He was cold. He was humiliated. He decided: The truck. He’d sleep in the truck. Kirk would pass out soon enough, and Lenny could go back to his own bed then. In the morning, his brother would forgive him. The storm would break. It always did.

He hauled himself inside the pick-up that was parked in front of the garage. He didn’t have the keys; he couldn’t turn on the engine. He found a musty blanket behind the seat, and he covered his bare skin with it, curling into a ball. He squeezed his eyes shut. His body was shivering again, and the wool turned his skin into a scratching post. He yearned for sleep, but his pain and misery kept him awake.

He heard the rain firing bullets at the roof of the pick-up.

He didn’t hear the footsteps outside the truck.

Kirk stripped to his boxers and flipped the channels on the television until he found a Wild hockey game. He couldn’t concentrate; he was still too pumped with rage. Part of him wanted to follow his baby brother outside and beat the little fucker until he was a lifeless pulp of blood and bones. Cut him up, just like Dad, and send the parts floating down the river.

He drank another bottle of beer in two swallows. His phone rang. The caller ID was blocked, and he muted the television and barked into the phone.


What?

There was a long silence and then a cool, familiar voice.

‘It’s me.’

Kirk tried to unfog his brain.
Shit.
He didn’t want to be drunk when he was talking to the boss. He didn’t want to talk to him at all. Not now. He thought about hanging up, but you didn’t play games with Florian Steele.

‘Hey,’ he said, taking a breath. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m hearing things I don’t like.’

‘Yeah? Like what?’

‘The police think they’re close to tracking down this man Aquarius.’

‘So what?’ Kirk asked.

‘Do you know who he is? Do you know what he’s doing?’

‘Me? I don’t have a clue, boss.’

Florian was silent. The dead air felt tense. ‘I’m hearing a name I’d hoped never to hear again,’ he said finally.

‘Oh, yeah? Who’s that?’

‘Vernon Clay.’

Kirk gripped the phone with a slippery hand and listened to the rain outside. ‘Who’s talking about him?’

‘Apparently Ashlynn was before she was killed.’

‘No way.’

‘I was wondering where she heard about him.’

‘Hell if I know, boss.’

‘Did you go out with her?’

‘Uh, yeah, we went out a few times. It was months ago.’ He added quickly, ‘I didn’t touch her.’

‘I told you to
stay away
from her.’

‘She came on to me, boss. I figured you knew.’

‘She was trying to get information out of you, you idiot. What did you tell her?’

‘Tell her? Nothing. Nada.’

‘Did you tell her about Vernon Clay?’

‘Fuck, no. Are you kidding?’

Shit.

Kirk thought about his last evening with Ashlynn. He wanted a kiss. A squeeze. A fuck. Anything from that beautiful chick. They were drinking; he needed to get her wasted if he hoped to get anywhere near that amazing body. He figured out later that she kept pouring her beers on the ground when he went to piss. The more he drank, the more he bragged, hoping to impress her.
When your daddy has a problem, you know who he calls? Kirk, baby. Me and him are tight.

She talked about how warm she was. She undid a couple of buttons on that churchy silk blouse of hers. He could see the swell of those perfect breasts. ‘Really?’ she asked, with her big eyes and that smoky voice. ‘What problems?’

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