Anderson, Smoke, and I looked from one to the other. We had questions, but didn’t stop them from leaving.
Smoke said to Mr. Anderson, “Paperwork all set?”
“It is.”
“Go ahead and transport him to Hennepin County. We’re off.” Smoke gave Anderson a quick wave, then we hustled after the Nodings.
Willie was opening the passenger door with his right hand. His left hand was still locked on his wife’s waist.
“Mr. and Mrs. Noding?” Smoke called. They turned around. “Sorry, but I need to talk to you about a couple of things.” He focused on Donna. “Your brother will be taken to Hennepin County for an autopsy.” Her face remained the same expressionless mask it had been, save the moment she saw her brother’s body. The Nodings both stared at Smoke, but not a word escaped their lips. “They’ll let you know when they release him, so you can make funeral arrangements. Tonya will need your help with that.”
Donna nodded. “We’ll go over to see her. And let his sons know. I left a message on their work phone to call me, but they must be out because they haven’t called back. I talked to his daughter just before we got here. I’m especially close to her. Her mother and I were good friends at one time, before my brother screwed her over.”
Smoke managed to keep a neutral face. “I’d like to sit down with you, talk to you, get your help to figure out what happened to your brother.”
Donna shrugged. “I wouldn’t know where to start. He hurt more people than I could begin to count; ruined a lot of lives.”
“Getting a list of the ones you know about would help a lot. Let’s meet tomorrow.” Smoke pulled out his phone and checked his calendar. “Are you available in the morning?”
“I guess.”
“Ten o’clock?” He asked, and Donna nodded. “Come to the front desk at the sheriff’s department. I’ll meet you there.”
CHAPTER 4
Anderson’s Funeral Home was a block from the Winnebago County Courthouse, which was in downtown Oak Lea and overlooked Bison Lake. Smoke and I had both parked in the sheriff’s department lot and we walked to our vehicles together.
“What did you think of the sister?” Smoke asked.
“She seems to be siding with whoever killed her brother.”
“Indeedy she does. And isn’t trying very hard to hide it. I’m heading back out to the scene, see how our major crimes team is doing locating any evidence.”
“I’ll follow you.”
We were back at the soybean field ten minutes later where two or more people had chosen to display the body of Gage Leder for reasons known only to them. Deputy Joel Ortiz had joined Weber, Zubinski, and Carlson to search for trace evidence. Each was wearing a jumpsuit, gloves, booties, and a head cover—everyone except Weber. His shaved head was a sunburned beet red. The other three had ball caps with “Winnebago County Sheriff” emblazoned across the bill.
“Vince!” When he turned at the sound of my voice, I saw his face was a dark shade of pink. “You need to get out of the sun.”
The other three deputies looked to see what I was talking about and noticed his burn, apparently for the first time.
Weber rubbed the top of his head and winced. “Sun’s more intense than I realized.”
“Better go find a cap, or something to cover up with,” Smoke said. “We don’t want you getting heat stroke or serious burns there.”
Weber left, and Zubinski filled us in on their evidence-gathering progress.
“We found a few of these.” She held up several evidence bags containing brown-colored slivers.
Smoke took one from her and held it up for better viewing. “Dried rawhide?”
I squinted against the sun. “Rawhide?”
“Likely from the snowshoes. It’s used in making the cross pieces. In the wood ones, at least. I got an old pair. Really old. The rawhide’s gotta be on the brittle side. I’d probably lose some slivers too, especially going across soil like this.”
“Yeah, it’s not like walking on snow,” I said.
“Not powdery snow at least.” Smoke studied the slivers. “Darker in color, like my old pair. Rawhide seems to darken with age and use.” He handed the bag back to Mandy. “Good job, crime lab crew, locating these needle-like slivers in your proverbial haystack.”
Mandy smiled, and Carlson and Ortiz looked up from their ground exploration and nodded.
Weber returned with a smooth cotton tee shirt on his head. It hung down to his eyebrows in front and reached his shoulders in the back. It was secured with a piece of string. His round face was covered with a white cream. Zinc oxide.
We all started laughing.
“You look like a ghost,” Ortiz said.
“Or like you’re all set for a trip across the desert,” Carlson said.
“Or maybe like I’m trying to avoid further sunburn in a soybean field on a sunny Minnesota day in May,” Weber said.
“Or that,” Carlson agreed.
Mandy shook her head at Vince, still smiling, then her lips relaxed and she frowned slightly. “We’ve scoured the scene and photographed nearly every inch, but the little rawhide bits and a few hairs by where the body lay, are the only trace evidence we found. Weber?”
Weber nodded. “We’ve been thorough. Lint, other hair, any other fibers could have easily blown away if they didn’t get caught in the crops or soil. A low-flying plane, like the crop duster’s, would produce a mighty wind.”
“Outdoor scenes are about impossible to preserve, especially after twenty or more hours. If you’re happy, I’d say pack up and head back to the station,” Smoke said. “Sergeant, we have a list of people, potential suspects to talk to and we need a plan.” He looked at his watch. “Carlson, how about you meet us at my desk in thirty.”
Carlson noted the time. “Ten-four.”
Smoke and I arrived back at the sheriff’s office within a minute of each other. He waited for me at the entrance, then swiped his card, opened the door, and held it for me.
We started down the north corridor. “I heard Mason tell communications he was back at the station. He’s probably in the squad room working on his report,” I said.
“You head that way. Bring him to our meeting.”
“Will do.”
Mason was sitting at a computer, typing away. Another deputy, Scott Norwood, stood behind Carlson and read over his shoulder as he wrote. “That is seriously messed up,” Norwood said, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He tossed down his memo pad and started a report of his own.
“Hi, guys,” I said and they muttered their hellos in return. “Todd, Anderson’s will be taking Leder’s body to Hennepin County anytime now.”
“Are you assigned to go to the autopsy?”
“It’ll probably be Weber since he’s on major crimes this week.”
He nodded. “Or Zubinski. Unless they figure she’s had enough after this on her first day back.”
“How’s she doing?” Norwood asked.
Mason looked over his shoulder. “She seemed fine at the scene. Worked well with Weber, even.”
“More power to her. And to Weber, sounds like,” Norwood said.
“Todd, what happened with your erratic driver call? He wasn’t DUI?” I asked.
“Nope. He was driving within the lines the whole time I followed him. But he was a little over the speed limit, so I stopped him. Nothing to indicate he was impaired in any way. When I told him someone had called on his driving, he admitted to swerving at the last minute to avoid running over some glass on the road.”
I glanced at the clock on the squad room wall. “Todd, Detective Dawes wants you in on a meeting in about twenty minutes about the field discovery, if you aren’t tied up.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“In the meantime, I better get started on my report.”
Carlson joined us in the squad room a couple of minutes before our meeting time. We grabbed our things and headed to the detectives’ cubicles.
&n
bsp; Smoke was on the phone and ended the call when we arrived. “Well, team, time to form a game plan. We have a long list of people to find and talk to, so the best option is to divide and conquer.” He pulled a memo book from his breast pocket, and picked up his reading glasses from the top of his desk. He slid on the glasses and thumbed through a few pages on the pad, stopped at the one he needed, and then looked up. “I asked the chief deputy to get the rest of your shifts covered tonight so you can work with me.” His eyes went back to his memo page. “Okay. Here are the names we have so far.”
I opened my memo pad to the list Willie Noding had given us. Mason and Carlson were ready to write. Smoke read for a minute, then opened a desk drawer. “We need a road map, or at least a legal pad to organize all this.” He found one, tossed it on the desktop, and picked up a pen. “We don’t know where or how Leder died, but we know he was brought to the scene by at least two people. Leder was not a big man, but if he was carried, even for a few feet, the people involved are either naturally strong, or very motivated. Or both. He had to have been one-fifty, wouldn’t you say?”
“His DL says one-forty-five,” Mason said.
“We’ve got four ex-wives and one current one, ah correction, widow; a friend who was in prison for assault; a sister and brother-in-law who are glad he’s dead; the cousin of his widow who it sounds like was pissed because Leder was taking advantage of her.
“Leder did not lead his life above board, the way it sounds. Not even close. And with all those women he was involved with, I wouldn’t doubt there was a jealous husband or lover left somewhere along the way.”
Deputy Bob Edberg, a twenty-eight-year veteran with the department poked his head around Smoke’s cubicle partition. “Any room for me?”
Smoke looked over the top of his readers. “Grab a chair from Detective Conley’s area.”
“I heard part of what you said.” Edberg set the borrowed chair next to mine and sat down.
Smoke nodded. “I asked Edberg to help us out. The other detectives have their own caseloads and we all know Bob is married to his job.”
“I’m thinking of filing for divorce.”
Smoke shot him a “yeah, right” look. “These thirty-year-olds will retire before you do.”
Edberg bore a slight resemblance to Smoke. They were both about fifty and six feet tall. Smoke had longer legs, Bob had a longer torso. Bob’s hair was still a natural medium brown, whereas Smoke’s dark brown hair was sprinkled with gray. I thought Smoke was the better looking with his angular face, long creases for dimples, strong chin, full lips, and sky blue eyes. Bob’s face was slightly rounder and his wrinkles were more pronounced, especially the crow’s feet beside his brown eyes and on his high cheekbones.
Smoke jotted each of our names on the legal pad, leaving spaces between. “You’re all competent first responders and interviewers. You’ve made my life as a detective a whole lot easier because you’re good with people. They trust you . . .” He twisted his mouth in a wry grin, “. . . generally speaking, of course. We need to gather as much information as we can and see where that leads.”
Smoke ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Okay. Wife number one is Sheila Walker. She and Gage had two sons, Dustin and Aaron, now in their twenties. Walker lives in Emerald Lake with her current husband, Craig. Noding said the boys own D & A Construction out of Emerald Lake.
“DNA?” Carlson said.
“D and A.”
Carlson tapped his forehead. “Okay, that makes more sense.”
“The second wife, Nora Leder, is the mother of Gage’s daughter Morgan and lives in Oak Lea. Morgan has remained close to the Nodings. Her mother has not, according to Donna Noding.” Smoke looked up at the four of us. “Are you with me so far?”
We were.
“Third wife, Rennie, no kids with Leder, so no connection with the Nodings that way. Willie thinks she moved to either Florida or Arizona—that’s what they heard a couple of years ago. She was a nurse at Oak Lea Memorial and it should be easy to track her from employee records.
“Fourth wife was only on the scene a few months. She’s a high school counselor at Emerald Lake. At least she was. Her name is Bridget. Unsure of a last name, but again, should be easy to find.”
Smoke shifted and poked the legal pad with his pen. “Here are my thoughts on how to tackle this. Edberg and Carlson, you team up and take wife one and her family, and wife three. Aleckson and Mason, you take wives two and four, and the daughter. Make notification, if they haven’t heard. Leder’s sister, Donna, told the daughter, and no doubt the daughter has told her mother. We’re not sure about the other three, but with something like this, it’s likely the news has spread by now.
“Then get the usual. Alibis. Motives. Lies. No reason to bring up the snowshoes at this point—we don’t want to alert anyone to get rid of possible evidence. See if any of them are, or have been, in the crim justice system.
“I’m going to have a chat with the cousin to Mrs. Leder number five. One Chip Ashland and his family. And I’ll also track down buddy Shane Coates. Sister Donna and her husband, Willie, are coming in to meet with me tomorrow. So that’s a start.” He looked at his watch. “Six-fifteen. Let’s meet back here at nine-fifteen and compare notes of what we have by then
CHAPTER 5
Mason and I headed back to the squad room with Edberg and Carlson at our heels. By the time we sat down in front of computers, we had all agreed on our assignments. I set to work locating high school counselor, Bridget. It was after school hours, but her name was listed in the staff directory on their website. Bridget Regan. I ran a check on her and found her contact information within minutes. And learned she had a daughter, age nineteen.
“How are you doing, Todd?” I asked.
“Fine. Aside from one DWI twenty-one years ago, wife two, Nora Leder, is clean.”
“Got her address?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, let’s start with her. You do the talking at Nora’s, I’ll talk to Bridget.”
We gathered our things and headed to our vehicles. “You want to drive?” I said.
“Sure.”
Nora Leder lived in a modest one and a half story square home, reminiscent of the 1950s. When she opened the front door, a faint roasted-food aroma from inside made my stomach growl. Her brown eyes widened. “What is it?”
Mason explained who we were and asked if she had heard about Gage Leder. Nora looked down a moment. “My daughter called me. She’s in Saint Paul. She goes to college there. I guess I should have expected you, but I didn’t think there was a reason you’d stop by.”
“May we come in? We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Mason said.
“About what?”
“We’re trying to figure out what happened to Gage and we can use all the help we can get.”
“Come in.” Nora was barefoot and dressed casually in sweat pants and a tee shirt. She resembled Donna Noding in coloring and the level of care she took with her appearance. A great haircut and a professional manicure and pedicure. She was a little shorter and a few pounds heavier than me. She led us through the living room to the kitchen and motioned for us to sit down. The aroma of whatever was roasting in the oven. It smelled like chicken and made me long for a home cooked meal.
Mason opened his notepad. “If you’ll start with your name and date of birth.” Nora rattled it off, and it matched what we had. “We’re trying to piece together Gage Leder’s life, his activities, associates, et cetera, so we can figure out who was responsible for his death.”
“Okay.”
“Tell us about your marriage to Gage.”
That seemed to unsettle Nora. She blinked rapidly a few times, but otherwise held a blank expression. “Where to start? Back when I met him, I had just started with Winnebago County Human Services and was bartending evenings over at the Oak Lea Legion for some extra money. I was fresh out of college and had student loans to pay off. Gage came in with his sister, Donna and her
husband, Willie. Donna and I were friends in high school, but had lost touch during my college years.
“Donna and I picked up right where we left off, you know how that is. Gage was apparently very taken with me, and Donna encouraged me to go out with him. What she failed to tell me was that he was still married. True, he was in the process of getting a divorce, but still. He was quite the charmer and we were married and pregnant within months. A recipe for disaster.
“Gage was so attentive and made me feel very desirable, until Morgan was born. Then he left me. Not physically, at first, but emotionally. It wasn’t long before he was staying away more and more. We divorced. After I got over hating him, I was grateful for two things —that he had given me Morgan, and that I only had to see him every other weekend when he picked up, and dropped off, our daughter.”
“Did he pay his child support on time?” Mason asked.
Nora raised an eyebrow. “Gage’s work history is sketchy, at best. He made sure by the time we divorced that he was unemployed. Over the years, he’s had a number of labor and factory jobs, mixed in with a lot of get rich schemes along the way.
“I have a good job, benefits. Most people don’t understand this, but I did not want one red cent from that man. I knew the money I made was honestly earned. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Did you remarry?”
“No, I concentrated on raising my daughter.”
Mason leaned in closer. “What was your daughter’s relationship with her father like?”
“Morgan said they did fun things and Gage didn’t have rules like I did. I think he wanted to be a friend more than a father to her.” Nora looked down and shook her head. “Morgan. After she told me Gage had died, I wanted to drive down there, hug her, stay with her. But she said no. She told me she needs to concentrate on studying. She has finals. She’s not ready to let herself grieve yet. I think if she saw me, she’d fall apart.”
The Noding Field Mystery Page 4
