The Equalizer (17 page)

I must have looked confused.

“He was an ass,” she said.

I broke into a grin, and she laughed raucously.

Wesley finally captured his children and forced them to sit on either side of the couple directly across the table from us. Even though separated, they still managed to interact. Wesley and Melinda’s kids inherited the worst features from both parents—the ears, for one. Melinda ignored her children who were trying to outdo each by making farting noises.

I played nice and asked Melinda how old her children were: Alston was eight and Fanchon was six. Fanchon was big for six, almost as tall as her brother. My single question prompted a brag fest of how gifted her children were. Eventually, she ran out of things to say and asked what I did.

“I’m a deputy investigator for Birch County.”

She looked amused. “And how did you two meet?” she asked.

Before I could answer, Victoria draped herself over my shoulder and proceeded to tell a complete lie. “We’d met during an interview on the double murder case Cal’s investigating. You’ve probably heard about the two men who were brutally gunned down in a county park. Well, I’m covering the story,” she said.

I guess she didn’t want to tell them she’d rear-ended me. I understood that.

After dessert came the speeches proclaiming how
right
the couple was for one another. A friend of Adriana’s (that I’d never met) toasted the couple “as two people who go together like champagne and caviar—espresso and chocolate mousse.”

More like beans and weenies,
I thought.

Aunt Evelyn chucked.

“Did I say that out loud?” I whispered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“How rude of me.”

She chuckled again. I liked her.

I caught Adriana’s eye and lifted my glass to her. She smiled and returned the gesture
. Oh, Adriana, what are you doing?

Eventually, those seated at my table all drifted off to speak to this person or that. I was left alone. Adriana’s mother came from behind and sat in Aunt Evelyn’s recently vacated chair.
Shoot
. She looked half in the bag.

“Deputy,” she said in this tone of hers, which I liken to the snobby clerks in upscale stores who act like it’s beneath them to wait on you. She thought she was hot stuff since she was an executive assistant for some high-powered executive—maybe it was Adam Lewis.

“Mugs,” I answered, always wanting to call her that to her face, knowing full well she hated it. I enjoyed watching her stiffen. Oh . . . come to think of it, maybe Adriana only calls her “Mugs” behind her back.

“Well, I was certainly shocked to see you here. You weren’t on the guest list.”

“You’ll find me listed as
Victoria’
s guest.”

“Yes, I surmised that when I saw her hanging all over you at dinner. Interesting how you wrangled an invitation.”

“Ironically, I came along to the wedding not knowing the bride was Adriana.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Doesn’t matter to me one tiny bit
what
you believe.”

Her jaw set tighter.

“Well, you must be happy Adriana landed a rich businessman,” I said.

“Yes, quite. I’ve prayed so hard for Adriana to find true happiness, and my prayers were finally answered.”

“I didn’t realize you had a direct line to the Big Guy himself.”

“I believe God answers all prayers.”

“Is that so? Well, in that case, why don’t you start praying for the end of hunger, poverty, crime? That type of thing.”

She laughed. “Crime? Well then, whatever would you do for a living?”

“Maybe I’d apply to be your driver. You know, like driving Miss Daisy, only it would be driving Miss Mugs. I’m not sure it has the same ring though.”

“Why Adriana appreciated your odd sense of humor, I’ll never understand. Anyway, I came to say I wish you well and hope you find someone as right for you as Adam is for my daughter.”

Before I could give her the finger, Adriana came up behind and said, “Mom, Adam wants to speak with you.”

Magna shot out of the chair without a so much as a cackle and left. And I had so much more to say too, like: Try living your own life, instead of vicariously living your daughter’s.

Adriana sat next to me in the chair recently vacated by her mother. “I didn’t think you needed my mother needling you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Do you call her Mugs to her face?”

She gasped. “God no.”

“Oh.”

She touched my arm. “I’m sorry you found out about my marriage like this,” she said.

“It’s okay. I let myself be hornswoggled into coming.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you have a good time. You do know our time together was important to me.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

She patted my arm, smiled and left to join Lewis and her mother—who had to be about the same age as the groom.

Magna and I had gotten off to a bad start from the get go. She had a preconceived notion a law enforcement officer couldn’t be a good husband or father. I tried to be nice in the beginning, but after the third hostile visit, I’d told Adriana she’d have to visit her without me. Then along came Sugar Daddy Lewis.

I considered walking out and taking the next flight home, but I decided I didn’t want to give Adam or Mugs the satisfaction. I was under the influence pretty much the whole weekend and in an odd, almost out-of-body state—like I’d had a temporary lobotomy. I went through all the planned activities: the guys’ golf game on Saturday when Adam beat me by nine strokes (and he was a crap golfer), the wedding ceremony in the atrium of the hotel, and the steak and lobster dinner, the dance, and gambling. Adam had given each guest two hundred in credit for the casino. Some of the night is a blank: all I recall is flashes of colored lights and the incessant music and ding-ding-ding of the slots. I’m not sure Victoria even noticed I was on autopilot, because I tried to act like it didn’t bother me that my Adriana married her father five fucking months after we broke up. And she had been with him off and on for
years
?

I was grateful Victoria slept
the entire flight home on Sunday night, so I didn’t have to talk to her. After I sobered up, I grew increasingly pissed because she led me by the dick into the mother of all uncomfortable situations. So when she said we’d stay at “Daddy’s” in Orono Sunday night, I told her I’d make my own way home. She must have known not to push it, and as we parted ways at the airport without so much as a hug, she told me she’d call tomorrow. I rented a car and made my way to the downtown Marriott. I slept fitfully, waking up frequently reliving the weekend.

Chapter 20

DAY ELEVEN

M
onday morning, I drove straight
to the Minneapolis Police Department. After speaking briefly with Sergeant Karl Adamson, I was sent to Wynn’s parole officer, Brian Day.

Day was about five-foot-eight, fifty-something and heavyset. He said Wynn had a job at a warehouse on Washington Avenue. We exchanged cards, and I drove over to North Cross Shipping.

The personnel director was a stocky woman, with curly, gray hair and a big rump. Her desk nameplate said
Haldis Moore
. I introduced myself and asked her if she could check if Wynn had been at work on October 8th.

After checking the computer, she said, “Yes, he was here that day. Why? This doesn’t have anything to do with those killings up in Birch County does it? I like to think I’m helping parolees, but we have a no-tolerance policy. If they screw up once, they’re out of here.”

“No, ma’am, if he was here in Minneapolis at work, then he’s clear, but would you mind if I had a word with him? He may have some information about another individual of interest.”

“Oh, sure.” She made a phone call and led me to a small room to wait for Wynn. Ten minutes later, Wynn “the Snake” strolled in wearing a tan work uniform unbuttoned enough to showcase a portion of his cobra tattoo, the head on the side of his face, swirling down around his neck and body to who knows where. I was happy to hear Minneapolis busted him on a felony. He was one bad dude.

I introduced myself.

“Sheehan, yeah, I remember you, and the unfriendly county you work for.”

“Now, how can you say that? Didn’t we give you a free night’s room and board at a primo facility.”

“Piss hole, you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not here to get you to fill out a how-did-we-do card, I want to know about your friend that had an altercation with Ronny Peterson.”

“Who’s Ronny Peterson?”

“Don’t play coy. I know you and Redding had an altercation with him last summer. He was brutally murdered last week. So where’s Redding?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him since summer.”

“Is he living in Minneapolis?”

He shrugged. “Maybe he went back home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Oklahoma.”

“What’s his real name?”

“Dunno.”

“Tell him I want to talk to him.”

He glared at me. He told me the truth about Redding being from Oklahoma, the rest was bullshit. As I drove out of the parking lot I saw Wynn using his cell phone. I called Brain Day back and asked him what he knew about Pierce Redding. He said he’d check it out and get back to me.

I drove the two hours home
and went right to the office. As soon as I walked in, I checked my email messages. One was from Brian Day:
Didn’t take me long track down Redding—full name is Fredrick Pierce Redding
.
He was picked up for assault with a deadly weapon in Tulsa and has been incarcerated in James Crabtree Correction Center in Helena, Oklahoma, since mid September. Good luck on your case.

I took the stairs down and walked into Jack’s office finding Ralph, Troy, and Leslie Rouch. As I walked in, I made the announcement that Wynn and Redding both had solid alibis.

Ralph sighed. “Dang it. I was hoping we had our man. Well, anyway, Leslie will bring you up to date.”

“Toxicology report came back. To make a long story short—Kohler was clean of substances—Ronny had cannabis in his system. No evidence of Heroin.”

“Okay,” I said. “Oh, and when I was in Vegas I saw Phillip Warner, who told me he heard Kohler have an argument with a woman at the club. Didn’t know who.”

“Not helpful then.”

“Nope.”

After the meeting, I called Kohler’s to ask Eleanor about the conversation at the club Phillip Warner had overheard. A kid wailed in the background.

“I won’t keep you. I just have a quick question. I have a witness that your husband had an argument with a woman at the club a couple weeks ago. I just wondered if he’d shared that with you.”

“No, but it could have been someone getting some financial advice or someone who didn’t like how their taxes turned out.”

“You’re right. It could have been anything. I just need to check on any little lead I get.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help.”

The crying got closer to the receiver.

“No problem. Sorry to catch you at such a bad time.”

When I got home, I picked up Bullet from Larry’s, then sat on my sofa feeling like shit.

“Bullet, you remember Adriana, the woman we loved? She married an old, rich dude. How could that have happened that fast?”

He sat in front of me, whimpered, and licked my hand.

Chapter 21

DAY TWELVE

I
was alone in the office
Tuesday morning when my personal cell phone rang: V Lewis. I turned off the ringer, and returned to my paper work on Wynn and Redding. A half hour later Ralph called. “Thought you’d want to know—Troy’s over at your girlfriend’s house. She received a threatening Bible quote in the mail.”

“What girlfriend?”

“Victoria. Is there another I don’t know about?”

“Uh, no. Should I go over, too?”

“If you want.”

I parked in front of her house behind Troy’s Department SUV. I knocked on the door and Victoria answered. She threw her arms around me and said, “I’m being threatened.”

I gently pushed her to an arm’s length. “Where’s Deputy Kern?”

Troy walked up behind her and said, “I’ve just finished up here.”

“What do we have?”

He handed me an evidence bag with a note and envelope inside. Typed on white computer paper was the following:

The godly shall rejoice in the triumph of right;

they shall walk the bloodstained fields of slaughtered,

wicked men. Kyrie Eleison

The Bible quote found in Kohler’s car also had Kyrie Eleison at the end—I didn’t believe that was reported in the newspaper, which made me wonder if we had a nut job on our hands.

“I bet this is the same person who sent a verse to Kohler,” she said.

“Possibly,” Troy said. “If you’re frightened, you might want to stay with someone for a few days.”

“A friend at work perhaps?” I added.

“Maybe,” she said.

“Come down to the Sheriff’s Department today. I’ll take fingerprints to eliminate yours,” Troy said. “And I recommend you don’t report this in the
Register
.”

When I left Victoria, she looked so stricken, I sympathetically told her I’d be in touch. She said she was going back into work. A little after noon, while Troy and I were meeting with Ralph, she phoned and began screeching unintelligibly into the phone. She seemed to be hyperventilating.

“Victoria, calm down and take a deep breath.”

I heard her inhale and exhale. “Cal! A crow . . . on my doorknob . . . hung with a noose. It reeks!”

“Don’t touch anything. We’ll be right over.”

The two men looked at me curiously. I repeated what Victoria had told me. Troy cocked his head. “I told her I was handling the case. Why would she call you?”

Ralph shrugged and gave me the
you poor bastard
look.

“We’ve been sort of dating,” I said.

Troy made a guttural sound in his throat. “You dirty dog. That’s who you went to Vegas with. Isn’t it?” Troy chided.

“Yeah, now forget it.”

“No way am I forgetting this one.”

Ralph put his hands up as if to say he was out of it.

“Let’s get going, unless you want to handle this on your own,” I said.

“No, no. I’ll let you tag along. Give you a chance to see your squeeze.”

“You dumb bastard.
That reporter’s going to suck you dry and I don’t mean your dick—I mean for information—even though I peg her as the type to be wild in bed.”

I turned and faced him. “Shut the fuck up.”

And he did. He parked in the driveway near the house and as soon as I exited the vehicle, I could smell the putrid odor of death. Dark goo had dripped from the bird’s corpse onto her front step. Victoria had come around from the side of the house and with an envelope in her hand. She was about to hand it to me, but I pointed at Troy.

“He’s your investigator,” I said.

“Did this come in today’s mail?” Troy asked as put on gloves before he opened it.

“Yeah, I saw the crow on the doorknob first. Freaked me out.”

“I would imagine so,” he said giving Victoria a lecherous smile. He read it aloud.

“‘Take heed: The wicked man is doomed by his own sins; they are ropes that catch and hold him. He shall die because he will not listen to the truth; he has let himself be led away into incredible folly. Kyrie Eleison.’ Holy shit that bird stinks,” Troy said.

I didn’t have my jar of mentholated rub with me to smear under my nose so I held my breath as I took a closer look. “There’s a large puncture wound on the crow’s breast—maybe from an arrow?”

After Troy looked at the wound, we got down to the business of taking photos and trying unsuccessfully to pull prints off the doorknob. “Don’t think we need to bring this stinking bird in,” Troy said, making a face. He asked Victoria for two garbage bags and we double bagged the crow and I threw it in the trash by the garage.

When I returned
to the front of the house, Victoria said, “This is scaring me. I’m going to pack some things and stay at the Super Eight.”

“Why don’t you stay at Cal’s?” Troy said. “Secure building would be safer.”

She looked at me eagerly. I wanted to grab Troy by the neck and strangle him. He appeared oblivious to what he’d just done.

“I’m not sure that’s such . . .” I said.

“I’d actually feel much better staying with you, Cal.”

“Settled,” Troy said.

What just happened?

“I’ll call you later,” Victoria said to me.

As soon as we got into the car I let Troy have it. “Are you fucking nuts? If I wanted her to move in, I’d have suggested it myself.”

“You
said
she was your girlfriend.”

“No, I said I had dated her. Don’t you ever pull any of that shit on me again.”

“What’s eating you?”

“Last weekend she manipulated me to go with to her father’s wedding—only she didn’t bother to tell me the bride was Adriana.”

“
Your
Adriana?”

“The one and only.”

Troy burst out laughing. “So you’re pissed.”

“You could say that.”

“Well, you’re a dumb ass if you let that get in your way of doing that hot little mama. Hell, if it bothers you that much, she can stay with me. I’d like me some of that.”

I shook my head.

“See? You’ve resolved it already.” He laughed again. “So, now the case is complicated. Do we have a religious nut popping off sinners? If so, you’d better watch your ass,” Troy said smirking.

“More than likely it’s some copycat playing off the newspaper article she wrote,” I said.

“Hey, there’s a real threat in there—‘
He shall die because he will not listen to the truth.’
You don’t think we should take that seriously?”

“Of course, we do. I just don’t want Victoria living in my apartment.”

“I can’t imagine why not with the bod on that one.”

I ignored his remark and we didn’t speak again until we found Ralph in his office. Troy showed Ralph the note and photos before he entered them into evidence. Ralph just lifted his forehead and said, “Geez.”

“Yeah, dead crow smelled especially sweet,” Troy said.

“Troy
invited
Victoria to stay at my place,” I said.

Troy laughed. “Keep her safe. Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Ralph, even if he’s mad at her for inviting him to her Dad’s wedding? Did you know her daddy married Adriana?”

Ralph raised his eyebrows in surprise then dropped them in sympathy. “Seriously? You went to Adriana’s wedding?”

“I didn’t know Adriana was the bride until I got there. Victoria knew we’d dated. Can you now see why I don’t want her to stay with me?”

Ralph made a face and shrugged. “Well, she is being threatened. At least at your place, she’s in protective custody.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Troy said and laughed.

“Oh, one more thing,” Ralph said. “Eleanor Kohler’s was taken into the hospital this morning—overdose.”

“Overdose? Suicide attempt?” I asked.

“Sounds like it,” Ralph said.

“Whoa,” Troy said.

Later that afternoon
I picked up a message from Eleanor Kohler on my department landline phone. She wanted me to drop by the hospital. Could my question about Phillip’s remarks set her off?

The door to Eleanor’s
private room at Birch County Regional Hospital was slightly ajar. She was alone, sleeping peacefully. I stood near her bed and looked at her. A dim light above her bed cast a yellow glow on her skin. The room was warm and her skin was dewy. Her hair was matted to her face. It was tragic she’d attempt suicide. I decided to let her sleep and turned to walk out.

“Cal?”

“I thought you were sleeping,” I said returning to her bedside.

“I guess I dozed off. Thank you for coming,” she said as she wiped her eyes with her fist. “This is crazy—it was totally accidentally. I had wine with dinner, later I couldn’t sleep so I took a couple sleeping pills. When I still couldn’t sleep I took a couple more. Unfortunately, in the morning the kids couldn’t wake me, so they called 911. Honestly, I didn’t try to kill myself. But—I’m not sure I have any believers.”

Her explanation sounded plausible. “I believe you.”

She gave me a thin smile. “Thank you. You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come by.”

I nodded.

“I stopped by your apartment the other day to give you what I found in Ted’s Town Car. I should have told you when you called yesterday, but I got distracted.”

So it was Eleanor Paris saw outside my door. I wanted to ask how she knew where I lived, but in a small town, I suppose it wasn’t difficult to find out.

“What was it?”

“A note—under the front seat. It was a threat . . .”

At that moment, Hamilton Fairchild’s booming voice filled the room, “Hey, there, Deputy, did you buy your new car?”

“Not yet.”

He kissed his daughter on the cheek and said,” Hi, sweetheart, how’re we feeling?” He didn’t wait for her answer before he turned to me to say, “The truck’s still available. Supercrew, six-point-five-foot bed, four-wheel drive. Heck of a deal. I’ll drop the price to say . . . fifteen thousand. Now, that’s a deal.”

“Dad,” Eleanor scolded.

“What?” he asked.

“Do not pressure him!” Eleanor said.

“What? I’m offering him a sweet deal,” he said still smiling widely. Phony bastard.

It was a good price and the truck was in top condition. “Well, I could take a look at it, but I don’t want to rush Eleanor,” I said.

“She should be released today or tomorrow. How about coming by this evening?”

“Tomorrow would be better. Where is it?”

“The Sheriff’s department was nice enough to deliver it to Eleanor’s. What’s convenient for you?”

“Before or after work.”

“How about 7:45 a.m.? Then you can go directly to the DMV at the court house.”

“If I decide to buy,” I said.

Ham laughed. “Thirteen is as low as she can go.”

“Take care. Save that item you told me about,” I said and left.

She nodded and thanked me for coming. I heard Fairchild ask, “What item?” I didn’t stick around to hear her answer.

Did Eleanor accidentally overdose like she said? Why wasn’t the note found under the front seat of the Town Car?

I dropped by Richard Daniels’s office at Daniels’ Ford and asked him to search his records for Kohler’s bodywork. He said they repaired a small dent in the front passenger door of the Town Car but didn’t file an insurance claim. He brought it in on Monday October 3rd, and Hamilton Fairchild picked it up Monday the 10th.

When I got to the Department
I found Betty Abbot to ask her about Kohler’s Town Car.

“Town Car?” she asked. “He had
three
vehicles?”

“Evidently the Town Car was in for bodywork when Kohler was killed. Eleanor says she found a paper under the front seat when she cleaned it out.”

“So, what’s on it?” she asked.

“Not sure, her father interrupted our conversation and evidently she didn’t want to discuss it in front of him. I’ll get it after she’s released.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the Town Car.”

“I should have caught it. I’ll assume the blame.”

“Was it another Bible verse? They’re creeping me out.”

“Yeah, makes me wonder what kind of a weirdo is behind all this.”

My mind turned back to Victoria and the possibility she could be a third victim. I phoned her. “Hey,” I said. “How ya doing?”

“I’m fine. Look, Cal, I think I’m just going to stay at my place.”

Okay, now I felt guilty. “I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea.”

“I know you don’t want me to stay with you. You’re mad at me for not telling you Adriana was the bride, aren’t you?”

“Because you knew we had a serious relationship.”

“Actually no. Adriana had downplayed your relationship greatly to me. But I should have mentioned it regardless of what I understood your relationship to be. I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Forgiven,” I said, although it wasn’t true. “And I guess I’d feel better if you stayed with me until we catch this whacko.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Come over when you’re ready.”

“Have you eaten? I can bring Chinese.”

“Perfect.”

An hour later she walked through my door with a large red leather duffle bag slung across her shoulder and two bags in her arms that I immediately took from her: Chinese food and two bottles of wine. She dropped the duffle then immediately went on a self-guided tour of the apartment. I followed. She pointed to my safe in the closet.

“Is that where you keep your gun?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?” she asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.

“No.”

She made a pouty face. “Ahh. Is it a big one?”

“I’m not discussing my firearm with you.”

She frowned and bounced out of the room.

Weird chick.

“Well, I really like your furniture. Pottery Barn?”

“IKEA.”

“Your place is nice—granite countertops and everything. The house I’m renting is pure retro—and not in a good way.”

“It’s not so bad,” I said.

We were standing
in the kitchen opening the white cartons of food when my doorbell rang. I rarely got visitors so I looked through the peephole—my mother. She’s
never
stopped in unannounced.