by Ann Yost
“Yes, I knew about the baby. No, I didn’t kill her.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
Well, what had I expected? That he’d confess?
“Were you the father?”
“Also, no. We were friends.”
I thought about the breathtaking beauty of Liisa Pelonen at eighteen. Was it possible that any young man could have withstood her magic?
“Very good friends,” he amended as if he’d read my mind. “I wanted to protect her.”
Protect. The word triggered another thought and I dug my fingers into the pocket of the jeans I was still wearing. I held up the pendant and it gleamed in the ray of the powerful flashlight.
“This was found around her neck,” I said, with only a slight waver in my voice.
I was looking at Reid, knowing the muttered curse hadn’t come from him.
“What the hell,” Jace added, an instant later. I ignored him.
“You gave her a family heirloom,” I pointed out. Something in my voice must have alerted him because he slapped his forehead.
“Oh, lord, was it yours, Hatti? I didn’t know. I just found it in a box of stuff at Grandfather’s trailer.”
“It’s not mine anymore,” I told him. “You were right to give it to Liisa.”
I glanced at Jace just as the flickering fire revealed an expression of anguish on his harsh features but I knew this wasn’t the time to talk about our old business.
Reid shrugged. “I figured she could use some good luck. I told you. I was trying to take care of her.”
That talisman hadn’t brought Liisa any better luck than it had me. I was starting to feel distinctly undignified sprawled out at the feet of my suspect so I suggested making coffee which, I figured, would provide an opportunity for a little musical chairs. It worked.
Ten minutes later we were sitting cross-legged in a semi-circle around the fire in a parody of a pow-wow.
I sipped at the hot brew then focused on Reid.
“Tell me about Friday night.”
He nodded. “We had made plans to meet in the sauna.” He pronounced it in the correct Finnish tradition. I waited for an explanation. “Liisa had told Pauline Maki that her throat hurt in the hope that she’d be told to stay home from the dinner at the inn and that’s exactly what happened. I was to come by at seven-fifteen to pick her up.”
“Why?”
He shrugged again and looked mildly embarrassed.
“It sounds kind of melodramatic but she wanted to run away.”
I nodded. We had pretty much figured that she was planning to leave.
“Away from the Makis?”
“Just away from Red Jacket. Something had spooked her. I should probably give you some background on my relationship with her.”
“Please. How did the two of you meet?”
“Believe it or not, I met her at your house.” He grinned at me. “Your dad introduced us.”
“My dad?”
“Her stepdad,” Jace snapped. I glanced at him and wondered why he always insisted on that distinction. I made a mental note to ask him about it, later.
“Hatti’s stepdad, Carl Lehtinen, stopped me for speeding one night in October. Instead of writing me a ticket, he invited me over to play pool.”
That sounded like Pops. He wasn’t a pushover but he firmly believed that old adage that the devil finds work for idle hands and he was well aware there was very little for teenagers to do on the Keweenaw. And, anyway, he liked young people.
“It was fun and it developed into a weekly thing.”
I cocked my head at him. “I never saw you there.”
“We got together on Thursdays.”
“Ah.” I turned to Jace. “Thursday, the knitting circle meets at the shop and Mom plays bingo at St. Heikki’s. Pops gets the house to himself.”
Jace’s only response was a grunt.
“A few weeks into it, the funeral director, Maki, came over. Liisa was with him and while the old guys played pool, she and I talked.”
“Well, sure. She was a gorgeous girl and you’re a handsome guy.”
Reid waved the comment away.
“I never thought of her as anything but a kid. An unhappy kid.”
I nodded and thought about that. “Do you remember the date you met her?”
“No, but it was early November. She had something on her mind right from the get-go and whatever it was, seemed to escalate. By the next time I talked to her, she knew about the baby and she was in a panic. She told me she’d pay me a hundred grand to get her out of town.”
“A hundred grand?” Jace and I spoke in unison, my high voice and his low one creating a sort of harmony.
“She has, I mean, she had a trust fund.” Reid peered into his coffee mug as he spoke as if he didn’t want to meet my eyes. Or, more probably, his brother’s.
“It’s a weird deal. The money comes from her late mother’s family and it was put in a trust that was not to be touched until she reached twenty-one.” He paused and looked up at me. “Or, until she married.”
“Geez Louise,” I breathed. “Did you marry her then?” He nodded.
“Friday morning. That’s why she was late for the parade. She skipped choir practice one day last week and we got a license. Friday we drove over to Eagle Harbor and got married by the justice of the peace.”
There was a short silence.
“I did it partly for selfish reasons,” Reid said. “Jace will tell you I’m no Sir Galahad. But she was pregnant and I convinced myself that this was the right thing to do.”
“But you’re not the baby’s father,” I pointed out.
“No.” He made an aimless gesture. “Liisa wasn’t interested in marriage. Not really. She was only eighteen and she’d hoped to have a professional singing career. And, once she was married, she’d get her trust fund so she wouldn’t have any money problems. We never thought it would be a till-death-do-us-part marriage. I got a sublet in Marquette and I told her I’d stick around for as long as she needed me. We planned to go our separate ways at some point.
“And what about the baby?” Jace asked.
Reid hung his head. “She’d spoken about abortion at first but then she changed her mind. The head was willing, the heart wasn’t, I guess.”
I could certainly understand that.
I stared at Reid.
“You said she was afraid. Of what?”
“I just don’t know. I keep trying to figure it out. She was freaked about something. I thought maybe she’d worked herself into a delusion because I couldn’t imagine anything threatening in Red Jacket.”
“Do you think she was afraid of Arvo?” I made myself ask the obvious question. Reid shook his head.
“No. She thought a lot of him and Mrs. Maki. She always said they’d done so much for her and I think she was fond of them. The truth is, Liisa was beautiful and she had a sweet way about her but she was a bit, I don’t know, aloof. That’s one reason I never got interested in her, you know? She didn’t give off that kind of vibe.” He glanced at the sleeping bag where he’d seen Jace and me when he’d come through the door. I thought I understood.
“Why didn’t she leave Red Jacket and go back to her father?” I asked.
“She should have,” Reid said, regretfully. “At the time she just didn’t want to reopen that can of worms. Her father, Jalmer, loves her but he didn’t want her to go to Hollywood or New York and she was afraid that if she went back to the cabin, especially with a baby, she’d never get her chance at a career. She needed the trust fund money.”
“So you married her to help out.”
Reid turned to his brother. “Yeah. I married her because I wanted the money. I wanted to help her out, too. You and I both know how hard it is for a very young mother alone in the world.”
I thought of Miriam Night Wind and Jace’s disastrous childhood. Reid most likely had fared better because he’d had Jace to lean on.
“Was tha
t when you gave her the dreamcatcher?”
The brother’s eyes riveted on me and Reid cursed.
“I’d forgotten all about that. Yeah. I’d gotten her a cheap ring but I wanted her to have something significant to welcome her into the family—such as it is.”
“Whatever the threat to Liisa was,” I said, slowly, “she must have thought she could escape it by moving to Marquette. That seems to imply that it was a situational threat, you know, someone local.” I looked at Reid as a cold finger worked its way down my spine. “Do you think she was raped?”
“I don’t know. She never said anything like that but it could have accounted for the fear.”
I could only imagine that agony Arvo would suffer if we discovered it was true. He’d never forgive himself.
Again, Reid seemed to read my mind.
“That would also account for why she wouldn’t go to Maki. She knew it would hurt him.”
Jace got up to punch up the fire.
“Tell me about that night,” I said to Reid.
“Okay. I had a key to the sauna. We’d met there a few times because it was never used except by Maki on Saturday nights. Like I said, I was supposed to be there at seven-fifteen but I got there late and she was already dead.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“Yeah. I knelt down to feel her pulse and then I grabbed a rag out of my backpack and cleaned up the wound.”
“You did what?”
Reid turned an apologetic glance toward his brother.
“All I could think of was how much she would have hated that blood running down her face.”
“You destroyed evidence,” Jace said. “We believed the cause of death was something other than the blow to the head but this changes everything.”
“I know. I almost took her with me but common sense prevailed. Belatedly.”
“And you didn’t think to call the police?”
He looked at me. “I’ve found the police to be distinctly unhelpful,” he said. “Except for your dad.”
We both waited for Jace to mutter, “stepdad” but he remained silent.
“What about a suitcase?” I asked. Reid looked puzzled. “Did you see one there in the sauna?”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. She should have had one with her.”
“A suitcase would help your story,” Jace said. “Without it, who will believe she was running away? And speaking of that, running away isn’t going to look great for you, either.”
Reid shook his head. “Not many people knew we were even acquainted.”
“They will when your DNA and fingerprints show up in the autopsy,” Jace pointed out.
“I know. I’m hoping we’ll have come up with another suspect by then. I mean, the fact is, I didn’t do it. Which means someone else did.”
“Reid,” I said, trying to find some sliver of hope that would exonerate him, “don’t you have any idea about the baby’s father?”
“No. None. Like I said, she gave off a don’t-touch-me vibe. I can’t see her succumbing to a moment of passion.”
None of us replied to that but I was sure we were all thinking the same thing: this was looking more and more like rape.
“How big was the trust fund?” Jace finally asked.
“A couple of million.”
“And you were going to accept a hundred grand in exchange for marrying her?”
“It was a loan. I want to get off the Keweenaw, too. I figured I’d go to school. Become a lawyer.” His beautiful lips twisted. “Like my big brother.”
“Oh my gosh!” I slapped my cheeks like Kevin in Home Alone. “You were married to Liisa when she died. That probably means you inherit the entire trust fund.”
Reid nodded and Jace closed his eyes for an instant, immediately aware of the implications.
“I’d say, little brother, that you are in a world of hurt.”
“I know,” Reid answered. “That’s why grandfather called you.”
We all moved at the same time, preparing our sleeping bags for slumber. It was as if we all knew that things were so bad there was no further point in talking about them. The fire was low and the room quiet when a thought occurred to me.
“If Liisa was so frightened, why didn’t you just go from Eagle Harbor up to Marquette? Why come back for the parade?”
“I asked her that,” Reid said, with a sigh. “She said she felt badly enough about skipping the pageant, that she couldn’t miss the parade, too. She couldn’t disappoint the Makis.”
Well, that answered one question. Liisa’s nemesis had not come from inside the funeral home.
Eighteen
I awoke to the soft light of morning, the smell of coffee under my nose and Jace’s striking features in my direct line of vision. I wanted to freeze the moment in time.
“I’ve been thinking about the suitcase,” Jace said. “The likelihood is that the murderer took it intending to dump it into Lake Superior but what if he didn’t have time?
We know Liisa was still alive at six forty-five when Mrs. Maki came back for the jam and that she was dead at seven-thirty, when Reid got there. The murderer may have heard Reid and had to get out fast.”
I looked at the younger brother.
“Did you hear or see a car leaving?” Reid shook his head.
“So the perp was on foot, most likely,” Jace said. “He may not have been able to run with the suitcase in which case he’d have stashed it somewhere.”
“In the yard,” Reid suggested.
“Or in the house,” I said. “If he heard Reid coming up to the door or inserting the key, he’d have had to backtrack through the house. And that brings up another question. How did he get in?”
“Key in the milk chute,” Jace said. “Isn’t that the Red Jacket tradition?”
I nodded. “Of course. So it’s possible the suitcase is still in the house.”
“How can we search for it?” Jace asked. “You can’t tell Arvo Maki.”
I knew that. Even though Reid had indicated that Liisa was fond of the mortician, he couldn’t be eliminated as a suspect. Not yet.
“I’ll find a way to do it.” I made a mental list that included search for a suitcase and have a little chat with Matti Murso down at the Gas ‘n Go.
Jace and I packed up but Reid decided to stay up in the mountains for a while.
“Whoever did this is smart,” Jace said to his brother. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it happened when Liisa had plans to meet you. I think the perp knew or suspected the marriage and knew or suspected that Liisa had promised you money from her trust fund. I think you’ve been set up like a duck at a shooting range. You’re the perfect prime suspect. You’ll have to come back to face the music at some point but let us see if we can at least get another name on the list.”
“No one knew about the marriage,” Reid said, “And no one knew about the trust fund, either.”
Jace and I looked at each other.
“Some banker must have known,” I said.
“And her father,” Jace added. “Jalmer Pelonen. I think we’ll drop in on the man on our way back to Frozen Paradise.”
Jace and I shouldered our packs and headed back down the path. After the early morning meeting of the minds, I expected there to be less tension between us on the return trip. I should have known better.
We had learned some important things about the case but none of the information had helped Reid, and we had not touched on the bruised skin around the wound of our marriage. It was obvious that Jace didn’t want to talk about it because even though there was room for two on most of the paths, he went ahead of me and I got to spend the hours looking at the same scenery: A set of wide shoulders, a long, rigid back that somehow managed to look uncommunicative. I relived the day he broke up with me and asked myself, for the eleventy-millionth time, why.
I was stiff and sore and heartsick by the time we climbed into the truck.
“Where’s Pelonen’s cabin?” he asked
, the first words either of us had spoken in six hours.
“Ahmeek. He is due home from a fishing trip today.”
Jace shrugged and I thought he looked pale and cold. “Either way we’ll check out the place.”
He turned the key and gunned the motor and I prepared for another hour of silence when my cell phone jangled. I answered quickly, hoping it was Lars and that he’d have a chance to tell me what he’d discovered before the power ran out.
“Hyva, Henrikki,” said a voice I hadn’t expected to hear. Arvo sounded ten years older than he had the day before, partly because he’d lapsed into Finnish and largely because the customary lilt had gone out of his voice. “I wanted to let you know the jig is up, eh? Somehow Clump found out, and he’s taking charge. The meat wagon’s on its way.”
I could hear the pain in his voice.
“I’m sorry, Arvo. So sorry.”
“Have you learned anything?”
He was fishing for a scrap of encouragement that might make it easier, emotionally, for him to release the body.
“I’m working on some leads,” I said. “What about the sheriff? Do you know if he has anybody in his sights?”
“The Murso boy,” Arvo said. “He was in love with my Liisa and everybody knew it. But I can’t believe that young man would hurt our girl.”
“So, just Matti?”
He answered, absently, as if his mind was on other things.
“What? Yes. I have to go now, Hatti-girl. Time to get Liisa ready for her trip to the sheriff’s office.” He meant the morgue which was located behind the tiny office on Main Street in Frog Creek but he didn’t have the heart to use the word.
“How’s Pauline?”
“Sad, Henrikki. We are both so sad. And we still have not talked to Jalmer Pelonen.”
“Tell you what,” I said, inspired, “why don’t I take care of that? I’m heading in his direction now.”
Arvo agreed to it and we hung up.
“I’ve got our entrée,” I said. “We are going to tell Jalmer Pelonen about his daughter.”
He nodded and then sucked in a long breath.
“Listen, Umlaut. I’m so sorry about the dreamcatcher. You’d left it on top of the dresser and I just sent it back to the rez along with some other things. I’d meant for you to have it.”
