by Mary Logue
“Strong is good.”
He sat down across from her. “How can I help you with Daniel Walker?”
“Well, we’ve been checking on who has keys to the house. At the moment, we’re treating it like a crime scene.”
“That sounds so official.” He laughed, then said, “I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s just hard for me to take you seriously as a cop. I mean I knew you when you were knee high to a grasshopper.”
“Sometimes it’s hard for me to take me seriously. But I’ve been doing this job for a couple years now. Even moved up in the ranks. I’m not the newbie anymore. That makes a difference.” Amy asked the question she had come to ask. “Have you still got a key to Walker’s house?”
“Sure. Sometimes Dan would have me go check on something for him when he wasn’t here. It’s always handy to have a neighbor with a key.”
“Absolutely,” Amy agreed.
He stood up and went to a line of hooks by the back door and pulled down a key with a piece of masking tape attached to the ring, with the name Walker written on it. “Do you want it?”
“Yeah, just for the time being. Until we figure this whole thing out.” Amy heard a snowmobile pull up to the house. When she looked out the window, Edna Gordon was climbing off of it. At least, Amy guessed it was Edna under the fluorescent orange parka.
When she entered the house, Edna pushed the hood back and took off her glasses which were fogging up. Then she squinted her eyes and smiled when she saw it was Amy. “Colder than a witch’s teat out there.”
“And you really get the wind up here.”
Edna struggled out of the parka. “Yeah, talk about your windchill factor. I don’t even listen to what it is anymore. Just makes my bones ache.”
She pulled a bundle of mail out of her sweater and handed the pile to John. “Nothing but bills and charities. One way or another they want your money.”
“You went to get the mail on the snowmobile?” Amy asked.
“Well, I’m sure not going to walk in this weather.”
“No doubt. I don’t think I’ve been on one for a few years. Used to go out with a friend a lot when I was in high school. My dad would never get one even though I begged him to.”
“You want to go for a ride?” John asked.
Amy remembered one incident where she mired the snowmobile in a huge drift and the guys she was sledding with had to come and dig her out. “I’m not that good at driving.”
“I’ll take you.”
Amy paused. A ride through the white landscape protected behind John’s broad back sounded thrilling. “I’m on duty.”
“You could just say you were casing the territory.”
She laughed at his attempt at cop lingo. “I guess I could.”
Edna handed her the orange parka. “You need to put this on. Zip it all the way up. You got good gloves?”
Amy held out her leather choppers, then she took the parka and pulled it over her jacket. She swam in it, but she pulled the cord in the hood tight. The bottom of the parka came down to her knees, which would give her good protection from the wind. “How do I look?”
“Like a pluffy pumpkin,” Edna said.
John grabbed a down vest and then put a barn jacket on over that. “We won’t go out for long. Just a short spin.”
The snow squeaked and crunched under their feet as they walked out to the snowmobile. A Polaris, Amy noticed, a few years old. John climbed aboard, started it and moved forward for her to climb on back. She swung her leg over the seat and found herself tucked in right behind him. She could feel the warmth of his body through his jacket.
“Stick your hands under my arms. It will protect them.” He revved the motor, then gave it some gas and it grabbed the packed-down snow in the driveway and slid around. He aimed at the ditch and down they went. Then they rode straight up and out of it and onto a field on the other side.
There was a good two feet of snow on the farmlands and it made for a perfect ride on the machine. They sailed along, John gently slaloming over the open field.
Amy had forgotten how thrilling it was to snowmobile: the icy sharpness of the wind on your face, the breathless blue of the sky, the heart-opening feeling of being in another world, the buzz of the machine trailing behind.
She could tell that John had driven a snowmobile as long as he had driven a tractor, which was probably a good thirty years. Kids started on farms when they were in their early teens. While he went faster than she would have and he took sharper turns than she might have, she felt completely comfortable riding with him. He knew the land, he knew the machine, and he wasn’t particularly a risk taker.
At least she hoped he wasn’t. She prayed he had nothing to do with what had happened to Daniel Walker.
CHAPTER 12
2 January: 4:30 pm
Yup, we’re finally doing it.” Claire had been meaning to tell her sister Bridget about her upcoming wedding, but had been so busy that she finally had to grab a moment at work and call her at the pharmacy. The office had cleared out so there wasn’t anyone to overhear her conversation.
“Well, it’s about time. This calls for a celebration. When are you planning for the big event—in June?”
“No, Valentine’s Day. And I don’t want it to be so big.”
“What? But that’s only a month and a half away.”
“We’re going to have a small ceremony and then maybe a nice dinner afterwards.”
“That’s all?”
“Hey, Rich is over fifty. We’ve both already been married once. I don’t need to wear the big white dress again. I know he’s just doing it so he can get my pension.”
Bridget started laughing. “So you asked him.”
“I figured it was my turn.”
“You two are wild. Let me know what I can do.” Bridget paused for a second, then said, “Well, I might have a date.”
“Great. Who?”
“A doctor.”
“Terrific. Maybe he’ll be as smart as you.”
“He’s younger than me.”
“Good. How much younger?”
“Only three years. He’s from India.”
“Wonderful. What’s his name?”
“Satish.”
“I can’t wait to meet him. Let’s make it before the wedding. We’ll have you over for dinner.”
“We’ve only been out on a couple dates, but I feel like I’ve known him a long time. He’s very sweet and he has such good manners. I’ll tell you more later. I gotta get back to work.”
“Me too. Hey, before you go, is it possible for a woman to get pregnant and go to term and not know that she’s pregnant?”
“I’ve heard of it happening. A big woman who just figures she’s putting on weight. A friend of a friend went in to the doctor because she thought she had a tumor growing in her belly. Turned out she was eight months pregnant. Why?”
“A girl at Meg’s school just had a baby in her bed. Claimed she didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
“Sounds like an easy way to do it.”
“Come over some time. Bring that child of yours.”
“Will do.”
When Claire looked up, Sherri Walker was standing at the front desk of the sheriff’s department. Claire almost didn’t recognize the woman—she was wearing her hair up in a ponytail and had wire-rimmed glasses on. She looked drawn and tired. As Claire walked over to her, she also saw that Sherri had little if no make-up on and was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She obviously hadn’t come prepared to spend the night, which told Claire a bit more about her relationship with her estranged husband.
“Thanks for coming down,” Claire said.
“Feels good to get out of that hospital.”
“Let’s go someplace where we can talk privately.” Claire led the way to a small conference room. All that was in the room was a table and four chairs. No windows to the outside, no posters on the walls. A bright overhead light glared down on them.
“It s
ounds like your husband is doing much better today.”
“Yes, it’s quite a relief. I still can’t believe he’s going to make it.” Sherri sounded genuinely pleased.
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Yes, anything I can do to help you find out who did this to Dan.”
“Mrs. Walker, we can’t be sure that anyone else is involved. We have no evidence that anyone else was at the house with Mr. Walker and just your word for it that the door was locked.”
“But it was locked,” Sherri insisted.
“You think it was—but maybe it was just jammed.”
“No, I had to flip the deadbolt.”
“In that case there is a very slight chance that your husband locked the door behind himself and then lost the key.”
“That sounds ridiculous.”
Claire had to admit it did. “What do you think happened?”
“I’m beginning to think that Danielle might have been behind it.”
“Why?”
“Well, I just learned from her today that if Dan died, then she stood to inherit most everything.”
“This was news to you?”
“Yes, she claimed that when Dan and I separated, he changed his will and made her the sole beneficiary. It does sound like something he would do. Dan likes to believe he and Danielle are so close but she is very headstrong and independent. She’s used to getting her way with him. If she wanted some money and he wouldn’t give it to her I could see her trying something like this.”
“You think she would kill her dad?”
“No, I think she would get someone else to do it.”
“She says she was out with friends for New Year’s Eve, but I will check into that.” Claire looked at her notebook. “I also wanted to ask you about your cleaning lady.”
“Sara Hegstrom? Why?”
“Well, I was just wondering who pays her?”
“I used to, I suppose Dan does now.”
“Does Bonnie Hegstrom clean for you too?”
“She’s filled in for her mom a few times. I don’t think she does as good a job, but I figure she’s got to learn somehow.”
“So if Dan paid Bonnie for a cleaning in the spring, then that would mean that you weren’t there?”
“I don’t get why you’re asking these questions.”
“I’ll explain in a moment. Would he only have paid her if you weren’t there?”
“Yes, that’s most likely.”
“Why are you and your husband separated?”
Sherri tilted her head back and tears filled her eyes. She dabbed at them and Claire gave her a Kleenex. “A couple times I came down to the cabin and found long dark hairs in the bed. I obviously don’t have dark hair and Dan barely has hair. I tried to let it go but things were not going well between us anyways. One night I blew up and just stormed out.”
She paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. “I thought he’d come after me. I thought he loved me. But he didn’t. A few weeks later when we finally talked, he admitted he had been sleeping with other women, but he said they weren’t important, he said the marriage just wasn’t doing it for him. A while later he did ask me to come back, but by then I was seeing more clearly how unhappy I had been in our life.” She rubbed her hands on her face. “You know, I do love him, but I just don’t want to go through that again. It’s too awful.”
“Would it surprise you if one of the women he had been sleeping with was Bonnie Hegstrom?”
Sherri cocked her head to one side. “Bonnie? Little Bonnie? But she’s just a kid, still in high school.”
“Well, that little girl just had a baby. And she was working at your house about nine months earlier. I was just wondering what you know about that.”
“Nothing,” Sherri started laughing and then it turned to tears again. “Oh, that poor girl. I don’t know. She’s certainly not Dan’s type. He likes them long-legged and sassy. I should know—he started going out with me while he was still married. Not how I would describe Bonnie. But she was available. I suppose it’s possible. What did she have—a boy or a girl?”
“A little boy.”
5 pm
Amy found Sara Hegstrom standing next to a crib in the nursery, staring down at a mewling baby.
“Is that your new grandchild?”
“Yes, and he doesn’t even have a name yet. Isn’t that awful?”
Amy didn’t think it was so awful, but nodded. “I should have asked you before when I saw you at the Walker house, but I need to have your key to their house. Do you have it with you?”
Sara turned and looked at her. “Why in heaven’s name? Don’t they trust me to clean their house anymore?”
“No, it’s not that. Really almost a formality. But we’re not sure what happened to Mr. Walker and we’re treating the house like a crime scene.”
Sara rummaged in her purse. “I need that job. Money’s really tight right now. With the economy sinking fast. The price of feed has sky rocketed, but we’re not getting any more for our milk.”
“I’m sure they’ll want you to keep cleaning. Especially when we’re done with the place.”
“I’ve always wondered about that. Do you just turn everything upside down and leave it?”
“No, we’re pretty careful, but there will be some powder residue left from lifting fingerprints. Speaking of which, we’ll need to get your prints.”
Sara looked alarmed.
“Just to eliminate them,” Amy assured her.
“Is he going to be all right?”
“It looks like it. He might lose a few phalanges, but that’s all.”
“Phalanges. I haven’t heard that word since high school health. After what he’s been through that’s not much to lose, but then Daniel Walker was always a lucky man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just all his money, that beautiful home, his lovely wife. He’s got a lot to be envied for.”
Amy nodded toward the baby. “Sara, do you have any idea who the father is?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“We’re just checking all possibilities and Bonnie did clean for the Walkers a few times.”
Sara’s eyes opened wide. “You think him? Oh, my lord.”
“Just wondering.”
“Bonnie hasn’t told me who. I did ask her once, but she just turned to face the wall. I haven’t wanted to push her about it much as I want to know. In a way I really don’t care. We’ve got to deal with getting them both out of the hospital.
“Can we walk down to her room together and see what she has to say?”
“I guess so,” Sara said reluctantly.
When they came to Bonnie’s room, she was sleeping. A large girl with long, faded brown hair which fanned around her face. Her mouth was cracked and a slow steady breath came out of her. A plain girl with large hands. She had always struck Amy as a good farm girl. But now she saw, in her own quiet way, that Bonnie had a kind of beauty about her.
“Don’t wake her up, please,” Sara said.
“No. It can wait.”
6:30 pm
Nothing was open along the river in the winter—no coffee-shops, no antique stores, not even the pizza place—and it was too cold to sit in a car and park so Meg and Curt were sprawled in her living room with their legs crossed over each other. There was no rule saying they couldn’t be alone in Meg’s room, but Meg knew from experience that either Rich or Claire were liable to knock on the door at any time and then walk in. No privacy there. They might as well sit right out in the open.
“I swear the fish was this big,” Curt held his hands out stretched wide apart. “It was three feet long if it was an inch. I wish you could have seen it. I wish I could have carried it back for you and fed the whole family with it.”
“No way,” Meg laughed at him.
“Way way,” he argued. “I could see it through the ice. Meg, it’s so cool to sit in darkness and be able to see the fish movin
g below you. Creepy and cool at the same time.”
“So now are you going to be an ice-fisherman, too, besides just a super-duper hero?”
“Knock it off with the superhero.”
She could tell he was getting a little exasperated with her. “Hey, I’m not the one who calls you Mega-turkey or whatever your name is.”
Curt cocked his head and stared at her. “I think I’m starting to figure out what’s going on with you. You’re jealous. I do believe you’re jealous of Andy.”
“Why would I be jealous of that turdball?”
“Because I have fun with him. Even if he is a bit of a turdball. I thought you wanted me to have some guy friends.”
Meg remembered she had suggested something like that a few months ago. “Well, yeah, but smart ones, not goonballs who just want to sit in the dark and spear fish or kill troglodytes.”
“You are so jealous.” Curt got on his knees and poked her in the side.
“No pokes,” she said. “Or I’ll have to get mad at you again.”
“You deserve a few pokes for being such a ninny.”
She pulled him toward her and he wrapped his arms around her. “What do you deserve?” she asked. “Did you find out anything from Mr. Andy about Bonnie?”
“As a matter of fact,” Curt whispered into her neck, then gently nipped it. “I did ask him.”
Meg pushed him away so she could see his face and hear him better. “What? Tell me.”
“Beg.” He took her face in his hands, laughing at her.
“Please, my little honey pot, please.”
“All right. Since you asked so nicely. No.” Then he claimed a kiss.
Meg sputtered. “What? That’s all?”
“Yup. Andy was disgusted when I even suggested it and then went on to say that girls from the cities are much hotter.”
“How would he know?”
“I guess he hooked up with a girl whose family owns one of those big houses on the bluff this fall.”
“So he says,” Meg said. “Do you believe him?”
“Kinda. What I’m more surprised about is that he isn’t bragging about it more often. It’s not like him to keep quiet about something.”
“You’re right. Something’s weird here with Mr. Andy. I think you have more sleuthing to do,” she said as she leaned into him for a more significant kiss.
