The Bitter Season (10 page)

“Did you?” Nikki asked, just to see her response.

She didn’t bite.

“Of course not. We didn’t even like each other before Ted died.”

“You’ve been married a long time,” Seley said.

“Yes. That all seems like a lifetime ago. I guess it was,” she said quietly as she glanced at her watch again. Then she took a deep breath to conjure up more energy. “Anyway, I was at the supermarket buying cranberry sauce, and Big Duff was in Wisconsin, so no, we didn’t kill Ted.”

“We’ll need to speak with your kids,” Nikki said, knowing they were running out of time.

“They won’t have anything to say that they haven’t already said. They were little then—five, seven, and nine.”

“Still, we’ll need contact info.”

Barbie Duffy huffed a sigh. “They’ve lived their whole lives with this investigation. The children of a murdered cop. Jennifer had to see a therapist off and on for years, she was so traumatized by the aftermath of Ted’s death. Thank God for insurance.”

“And you had a couple of foster kids living with you at the time?”

“Yes,” she said coolly. “I’m sure you have their names somewhere. They’re probably in jail or dead.”

“They were difficult?”

“They were teenage girls from broken homes with drug-addicted mothers and their mothers’ abusive boyfriends. They had a lot of issues. I sent them back after Ted was killed. I had enough to deal with. I couldn’t cope with their problems, too.”

“Your neighbor made a comment to us about the girls being”—she looked to Seley—“what’s the word he used?”

“Tarts.”

“Tarts.”

“What neighbor said that?”

“Donald Nilsen.”

Barbie Duffy rolled her eyes. “Dirty old man. Maybe he should
have spent less time looking in our windows and more time minding his own damn business.”

“Do you mean that literally?” Seley asked. “He was looking in your windows?”

“He would complain to Ted about the way the girls dressed. Their shorts were too short. Their skirts were too short. Their tops were too short. He was worried they would tempt his perfect son. It was like living next door to the Taliban. Ted told him to stop staring at the crotches of teenage girls or someone might get the wrong idea and call the cops on him.”

“How did Nilsen react to that?”

“He blew a gasket, but he didn’t complain again after that.”

“What was the son like?”

“He was quiet. He minded his own business—unlike his father. He mowed our lawn in the summer and shoveled the sidewalk in the winter. He never said anything more than ‘yes, ma’am,’ ‘no, ma’am,’ and ‘thank you, ma’am.’ I found him a little odd, but why wouldn’t he be, with those parents?”

“Was he ‘distracted’ by the girls?”

“Not that I ever noticed. He mostly looked at the ground.”

“Do you know how he died?”

“He died? I had no idea. It must have been after we moved away. I remember him giving his condolences at the funeral.”

“There must have been a thousand people at that funeral,” Nikki remarked.

“Yes, there were. But I remember because his father wasn’t there. The son and the mother came.”

“What about Nilsen’s wife?” Nikki asked. “Did you know her?”

“Not really. I had a job and five kids. I didn’t have time for coffee with the housewife next door. I hardly ever saw her. What difference does it make, anyway?” she asked, glancing at her watch again. “Do you think Susie Homemaker killed Ted?”

“Just getting a feel for the neighborhood,” Nikki said. “So you didn’t keep in touch with her after she left the husband?”

“I didn’t even know that she left the husband,” she said, standing up. “Good for her. And speaking of leaving, I have to go. I’m going to be late.”

“I’ll have more questions,” Nikki said, following her to the front door.

“I’m sure you will,” she said, opening the door to show them out. “But don’t be surprised if I’m difficult to contact. I’ve moved on with my life. It’s time the police department does, too. What’s done is done.”

*   *   *

“T
HAT
’
S AN IN
TERESTING
ATTITUDE
S
HE HAS
,” Nikki said as they got back in the car. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder. Apparently the same can’t be said for Barbie Duffy’s feelings for the former love of her life.”

“It’s been a quarter of a century,” Seley pointed out. “That’s probably longer than she and her husband even knew each other. I agree, it doesn’t make her seem like the most compassionate person, but she’s had to live through all of it. We haven’t.”

And that was the whole point of their being there, Nikki thought as she drove them back into the city. They had yet to see the whole picture of Ted Duffy’s life and death. She only hoped they could bring it into focus. His death had to mean something to someone—even if that someone wasn’t the person who should have cared the most.

*   *   *

H
OMICIDE WA
S
CROWDED
WHEN
THEY
GOT BACK
. The shift had changed, but no one seemed to have left. Kovac’s double murder, Nikki thought, straining to pick up bits of conversation as she passed through on her way to the Cold Case unit’s borrowed office space.

A professor from the U and his wife, murdered in their own home. The brass would be clamoring for the case to be closed ASAP, all the while getting as much air time and management mileage out of it as possible. She could see Mascherino in her office with Deputy Chief Kasselmann, deep in conversation. The sense of energy and urgency that came with a high-profile case was palpable in the room.

Tippen was on the phone at his desk, scribbling notes. He glanced up as she passed, held the phone to his shoulder, and said, “You’re missing a big one, Tinks!”

“I have my own big one, thanks.”

“I know that. But I’m talking about a case.”

She flipped him the finger and kept going, her mood darkening even as he laughed in her wake. She hated feeling left out of a job she had left by choice. But she had her own job to do.

She had stewed on Barbie Duffy’s attitude all the way back from Apple Valley. The fact that Grider had fouled the waters for her before she had a chance to establish a rapport with Ted Duffy’s widow was burning like an ulcer in her gut. Bad enough to start from zero with a case as cold as this one. He had made sure she was starting in a hole.

And there he was, ten feet in front of her, stuffing a sandwich in his fat mouth as he stood shooting the shit with one of the Homicide guys, no doubt drawn into the room by the same energy they all felt when a big case was getting off the ground.

Nikki saw red.

“Grider!” she snapped, walking up on him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Having a sandwich,” he said, with his mouth still half full. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem,” she said, toe to toe with him, wishing she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. “I just came from interviewing Barbie Duffy. Imagine my unpleasant surprise when
she told me you called her yesterday. What the hell is the matter with you?”

Nikki realized her voice was raised. She could feel the attention of the room turning toward them. She was too angry to care.

“Just letting her know it’s your case now,” Grider said.

“And telling her I’m gonna do a shit job? Fuck you!” She jabbed him in the sternum with a forefinger. “Keep your big ugly mug out of my case!”

Seley touched her on the shoulder. “Nikki—”

Nikki shrugged her off.

“Or what?” Grider challenged.

“I’ll have your ass on a platter, that’s what!”

“Nikki—” Seley started.

The next voice that came made Nikki cringe. Mascherino.

“Sergeant Liska. My office. Now.”

Fuck
. Well, there was nothing for it now but to go all in. She grabbed a handful of Grider’s shirt and turned toward the lieutenant.

“He’s coming with me.”

Mascherino frowned. “I want to speak to
you.
”

“He’s the reason you want to speak to me,” Nikki said. “If you’re killing birds, you might as well get two for one.”

“All right,” the lieutenant said, turning her frown on Grider. “Both of you.”

“She attacked me!” Grider whined.

“Right now,” Mascherino snapped.

She turned on her heel and marched. Nikki fell in step behind her, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Grider was coming. Everyone watched silently as they passed on their way to the lieutenant’s office, and started talking again the second they’d gone by, the noise of their voices swelling like a wave behind them.

“Close the door and sit down,” the lieutenant ordered as she went behind her desk and turned to face them.

Nikki was too angry to sit. She crossed her arms over her chest and stood behind a chair, glaring at Grider, who took the other seat in front of the desk. Mascherino let it go.

“I’m running a Homicide unit, not some dive bar where people start brawls on a nightly basis,” she said. “I will not have my detectives shouting expletives and threats in this office. Is that understood, Sergeant Liska?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nikki said, choking on the explanation and accusations that wanted to come spewing out of her mouth.

“She attacked me!” Grider said again.

The lieutenant gave him an icy look. “We’ll get to you,” she said, and turned back to Nikki. “You will calmly explain to me what this is all about.”

She took her seat behind her desk and waited. Nikki blew out a breath and sat down.

“He called the widow of my victim and led her to believe I’m not all that dedicated to this case, putting me in an adversarial position with her before I could even introduce myself.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Mascherino asked, turning her steely gaze on Grider.

“I’ve known Barbie Duffy for thirty years,” he said. “I called her to let her know the case had been reassigned. We had a conversation, and I gave her my opinion.”

“I gave her my opinion, too,” Nikki said. “If you haven’t solved her husband’s murder in twenty-five years, why does she want you on it? She should have decided you were incompetent a couple of decades ago.”

“Nikki . . .” Mascherino warned.

“Seriously, Lieutenant,” Nikki said. “Seley was with me. She’ll tell you the same thing. Barbie Duffy couldn’t get rid of us fast enough. She doesn’t want us reopening the case at all. She was perfectly happy with the lack of results this one gave her,” she said, hooking a thumb in Grider’s direction.

“What the hell are you implying?” Grider asked, his face darkening as his blood pressure rose.

“I don’t know,” Nikki said, shrugging. “I’m just stating the facts. Maybe you can enlighten us. Why would she rather run off to her exercise class than talk to people who want to solve her first husband’s murder? Maybe there’s a reason this case was never solved on your watch.”

“Are you accusing me of something?” Grider demanded. “Ted Duffy was my friend. You think I didn’t want to close his case? I’m the one who brought it up for review!”

“So you could keep not solving it?”

Grider shoved himself out of his chair. “I don’t have to listen to this shit from you.”

“Sit down!” Mascherino ordered.

He backed down reluctantly, and planted his ass back in the chair.

“You will not interfere in this investigation,” the lieutenant said to him. “This is no longer your case. I don’t want to hear again that you’ve contacted someone involved and offered your opinion or anything else. Do you understand me?”

Grider rubbed a hand across his mouth like he was trying to push his opinion of the situation back down his throat.

Mascherino waited, staring him down. She might have a sweet picture of her three grandchildren sitting next to her pen holder on her desk, but there was no sweetness in her as a boss. She was going to make everyone toe her line, Gene Grider included.

He tossed his hands up as if in defeat, but he was shaking his head no even as he said, “It’s all yours.”

Nikki bit her tongue. He was no more going to stay out of it than he was going to stop breathing. He’d said it himself: He’d known the people involved for thirty years. He had gone back to them time and again over the decades.

The lieutenant turned her gaze on Nikki and pointed in the
direction of the squad room. “I will not have another outburst like that in this office. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” Mascherino said. “But I’ll take it anyway. Now go, the both of you. I’ve got a press conference to prepare for.”

Ever the gentleman, Grider walked out ahead of Nikki.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbled over his shoulder, as they went down the hall toward their own office. “Tattling to the principal. Nice cunt move, Liska. You and the Mother Superior there can have a good laugh over it while you’re rolling your own tampons later on.”

Nikki cut in front of him and stopped, facing him, hands on her hips. The hall was empty but for the two of them. Technically, they were out of the Homicide office proper. Grider stopped and mirrored her stance.

“Now what?” he asked. “You’re going to report me for gender insensitivity?”

“You listen to me, you fucking dinosaur,” Nikki said, keeping her voice low. “I’ve had worse from better than you. So don’t think for a minute that you can intimidate me. You can take your last-century misogynist bullshit attitude and stick it up your ass. And if you want to make this a fight, metaphorically or otherwise, you’d better know, I will break you in two and beat the shit out of both ends. Stay out of my case.”

She let that hang in the air. Grider said nothing. He just stood there staring at her with cold eyes, his resentment oozing out of his pores like rancid sweat. He had come on the force during another era. Having to stomach the fact that women were equal to or ranked above him stuck in his craw like a chicken bone.