Silenced Girls

by Roger Stelljes

  “I don’t think he could represent you. Criminal law isn’t his area, nor his law firms. At least, I don’t think it is. But I’m sure he knows somebody that we could hook you up with. I’ll give him a call. Are you okay with money, for one?”

  “I have some money in the bank.” Gunther replied, pacing nervously around his house. “But I’m not like you Eddie, there isn’t a bottomless well of cash.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go up to my cabin and think. Knowing this town, a thousand people already know the police were talking to me. I need some space.”

  Braddock drove them to JJ’s Saloon, a small out-of-the-way bar ten miles west of Manchester on the outskirts of the small town of Pillager. They grabbed a snug booth in a dark corner and ordered beers and then a pizza.

  “So, you bring me all the way out here. You’re either embarrassed to be seen with me or perhaps you have ulterior motives, Will. Which is it?” Tori teased good-naturedly.

  Braddock snorted a laugh. He wasn’t sure what his motives were at this point. “Well first, no man in his right mind would be embarrassed to be seen with you, Tori. As for ulterior motives, there is another way of looking at that.”

  “Which is?”

  “As you’ve discovered Manchester is a lot bigger now, but it still behaves like a small town. We go have a beer somewhere in town, just you and I, and it’ll go viral. Well, at least as viral as something in Manchester can go.”

  “Really?”

  “How long did it take for word of your arrival to get out?”

  “Not long.”

  “How long did it take me to find out you’d appeared at the Steamboat Bay Tap Room?”

  “Even less time.”

  “I rest my case,” Braddock replied and then steered into safer territory. “So, were you standing in front of your sister’s killer when we were talking to Gunther?”

  “Maybe,” Tori answered mutedly after taking a drink of her beer and giving it a moment’s thought. “The way he looked at me when I walked up to him inside, the way he looked at me out on the sidewalk, it was like he…”

  “Lusts,” Braddock finished the thought. “I mean, he was looking at you like he wanted to…”

  “Do me?”

  “Oh yeah, for sure.”

  “I got that vibe, too. His look was predatory.”

  “He has the off-center look, manner, oddness to him that he looks like a…”

  “A killer,” Tori finished the thought. “He looks like it. Is he?”

  “One way to find out is to take that cigarette butt we just retrieved and get a DNA comparison to the ones we found this morning. That would answer the question. I was wondering if maybe you could rapid DNA it through the Bureau.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Good,” Braddock replied, taking a long pull from his beer, sitting back into his side of the booth. “You know, we ran a good little game there on him.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Tori replied with a smile and then turned serious, moving to take care of something she’d been waiting all day to address. “I need to apologize to you for yesterday.”

  “Tori, it’s okay…”

  “No,” Tori replied, shaking her head, reaching across for Braddock’s free hand and taking it in both of hers, pausing for a moment, her eyes focused on their hands. “No, it’s not. It’s not.” She looked up to Braddock. “I was so out of line yesterday. So out of line. I was wrong to say those things and I’m just really, really sorry I did.”

  “Tori, look.” Braddock paused, glancing away for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “One of the things I sometimes forget is that…you’re not just a cop here. You’re a victim. I lost sight of that yesterday.”

  “That doesn’t give me the right to behave the way I did, to say the things I said.”

  “You were tired,” Braddock demurred. “We both were. Fuses were short. Going like we were both going, a blowup was inevitable.”

  “Still…”

  Braddock softly patted Tori’s bandaged hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m glad we both are.”

  “Me too,” Tori replied, looking up to Braddock, holding her eyes with his. “Me too.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “THE SIMPLEST ANSWER IS USUALLY THE RIGHT ONE.”

  T ori woke up and went for a run. On the treadmill. In the hotel. While downing a Starbucks coffee, she coordinated with the BCA crime lab in Bemidji arranging for Brule’s cigarette butt she collected last night and a sample from one recovered yesterday morning shipped to the FBI Lab at Quantico for Rapid DNA testing. Relaxing in the lobby, enjoying her coffee, she placed a call to a friend at the lab who promised to get the test run sometime on Monday. At eleven a.m. she drove over to the sheriff’s office and found Braddock in his office working.

  “I figured you’d be here.”

  “Quinn’s in Michigan having the time of his life. The house is empty, quiet, lonely, singed and boarded up. After yesterday, I kind of like the idea of being around people in a fortress.”

  “I hear that. So, I assume you haven’t told your son about the truck bomb?”

  “I might have neglected to mention it, although his grandfather cross-examined me pretty thoroughly on it. He strongly suggested I get into a rental car and join them in Michigan.”

  “Bet you were tempted.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “What about your house? What about the windows? All that glass.”

  “I’m lucky, let me tell you. My next-door neighbor is a home builder and a total mensch. His guys came in within a few hours of the blast and hoovered up the glass and inserted plywood in the windows. Then he measured everything up and called his windows supplier and placed the order himself. The new windows will be here tomorrow, and they’ll install them. My insurance guy, another good dude, lives just down the road. He’s getting the claims processed. Those two together are looking after it. It’ll look like new in a few days, other than the scorch marks, of course. I’ll deal with those later.”

  “The house isn’t a complete mess then.”

  “No,” Braddock answered, “Although I went around again this morning with the vacuum. There’s still a few glass shards around.”

  Steak and Eggleston rolled into the office at 12:30. Braddock felt guilty having them in on their day off, but he wanted to keep up the pressure. He sent them out to once again chase down Lash’s friends to press them about Brule. That and follow up with Fran Larson with the pictures of the van.

  “What are we doing?” Tori asked.

  “Going to see Gail Anderson. I bet you thought I’d forgotten about Katy.”

  Tori shook her head. “No, I know better now. It’s just that no matter how much I think about her and what happened, I can’t figure her role in all of this.”

  “Me neither,” Braddock answered. “And I’ve been a skeptic, but the timing is what it is. It’s hooked into this somehow.”

  Gail Anderson was relieved to see the two of them, “I heard about yesterday,” she said warily, her arm wrapped around Tori. “Who is doing these things?”

  The three of them sat out on the front porch, sipping iced tea in the shade while Braddock explained the reason for their visit. Gail Anderson knew who Gunther Brule was since he’d gone to high school with Katy, but she had no recollection of having seen him recently. “I’m sure Katy hadn’t seen him in years. She hadn’t seen anyone. Honest to God, Tori, you were the first friend she’d really talked to in years. So as for Gunther Brule, he certainly never showed up around here and I can’t think of any reason he’d have an issue with Katy.”

  The next step was to confirm Gunther’s whereabouts on Friday night. The first stop was at Jeff Warner’s house, an expansive two-story with a spectacular lake view.

  “This place must be worth a couple of million,” Tori remarked, looking around in wonder as they walked up the flagstone sidewalk around the house.

  “Ea
sily,” Braddock affirmed. “I can’t believe he didn’t lose it in one of his divorces.”

  They eventually found Warner sitting shirtless out on his dock, a legal brief in his hands, a beer in a cupholder and two more in a small ice bucket. “I don’t suppose I could offer you two a refreshment?”

  They waved off the beer.

  “I heard about yesterday.” He looked to Tori. “How’s the hand?”

  “Stitched but usable.”

  “Who the hell is doing this?” Jeff asked.

  “That’s why we’re here,” Tori replied.

  “How can I help?”

  “We have some questions about Gunther Brule.”

  “He’s a friend, you know.”

  “Are you his lawyer?” Braddock asked, looking up from his notepad.

  “No,” Warner replied with a headshake. “Just friends. What do you want to know?”

  “Tell us about last Friday night at Eddie Mannion’s.”

  Warner confirmed he was at Eddie Mannion’s on Friday night and had drinks with Brule. He defended his friend in a backhanded sort of way. “Look, Gunther’s a pretty good guy but certainly not the brightest. In fact, he does some flat-out stupid ass shit.”

  “Such as?”

  “He rides his four-wheeler around without a helmet and water skis sans life jacket because he finds it too restricting. And of course, in front of dozens of witnesses he pinches women on the ass.”

  “Do you think he thought Genevieve Lash would actually be interested in him?”

  “No, even he isn’t that dumb,” Warner replied whimsically, shaking his head, “Again, he does some stupid shit. But he’s basically a decent guy.”

  “He knocked his ex-wife around,” Braddock noted. “That doesn’t sound so decent.”

  “No,” Warner replied, nodding before taking a small sip of his beer, “It doesn’t. Stupid shit again. Are you detecting the theme here?”

  “You’re suggesting there’s a correlation between his drinking and his judgment,” Tori surmised.

  “Exactly. Now look, I didn’t get along with either of my ex-wives, but I never ever thought once of striking them no matter how much we argued. That shit would ruin my career, my business. You just can’t go there.”

  “So why did he?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he has some issues. Gunther,” Warner shook his head sympathetically, “the guy came home from Iraq and he was not the same.”

  “PTSD?” Tori asked.

  Warner nodded. “Probably. I’ve said to him more than once that he should go down to the VA and get some help but he’s just a stubborn redneck, ya know.”

  “Does it make him violent?”

  “Not that I’ve ever seen, in person,” Warner answered and then looked over to Tori. “But as you said, I’m aware of the issues with his ex-wife, so it’s there. I would simply note that it tends to spring from drinking. Sober is better for him.”

  “How about this past Friday night? Was he at Eddie Mannion’s?”

  “Oh yeah, he was there, hardly a rare occurrence. Although I gotta say, Gunther must have been hitting it pretty hard because he ended up smashed.”

  “Could he drive?”

  “No, no, no,” Warner answered, shaking his head. “Eddie drove Gunther and his van back to his house. I followed to give Eddie, someone who is my client, a ride back home. I helped Eddie get Gunther in the house and then we left.”

  “And Gunther was asleep?”

  “As far as I know. Eddie got him into the bedroom, so you’d have to ask him to be sure.”

  Eddie Mannion’s house was the next stop. If Warner’s place was spectacular, Eddie’s was another level or two beyond.

  “Cripes, would you look at this place?” Tori said, looking around Eddie’s massive stone and brick one-story walkout in wonder, stopping in front of the detached five-car garage. The doors were all open. Eddie had himself quite a collection of vehicles: a shiny new Cadillac Escalade, a black Land Rover, a red Porsche 911, a BMW Z4 convertible and a Tesla. “It appears the mid-life crisis has hit.”

  “When you have money to burn,” Braddock replied, “you burn it.”

  Eddie was reluctant to talk at first when Tori said the subject was Gunther. “Look, he’s my friend.”

  “Mine too,” Tori answered.

  “I’m not so sure about that. I know about you two getting up in his grill last night at the VFW.”

  “Do you now?” Tori asked.

  “You two are accusing him of some pretty serious shit,” Eddie replied hotly. “I ain’t exactly in the mood to help you make things worse for him.”

  “Look Eddie, we’re here as a courtesy. But I’m fine with making a point of bringing you in to the government center in front of plenty of people. You decide.”

  “Do I need a lawyer or something?” Eddie asked suspiciously.

  “I don’t know, Eddie. Do you?” Braddock asked. “Is there something we should know?”

  “I’m not saying I do, Will,” Eddie retorted, but then pointed to them. “But you two seem to be on the warpath around here all of the sudden.”

  Tori held up her bandaged left hand. “Getting shot at tends to do that.”

  “Lots of missing women to account for,” Braddock added. “Not to mention my burned-up Tahoe and house so I’m pretty much out of patience.”

  “Look, we’re asking about Gunther, not you, Eddie,” Tori interjected calmly. “Come on. We’re just trying to confirm some information we’ve gotten elsewhere.”

  Eddie eyed Tori and then Braddock, who held his arms out as if to say, what’s it gonna be?

  Mannion’s body language relaxed as if the air leaked out of him. Tori thought much of it was all an act anyway so that he could say to Gunther later that he put up a good fight. She started with an easy question. “Friday night, he was here with you, right?”

  “Yeah,” Eddie Mannion confirmed, having decided to converse. “And I guess Gunther had a lot to drink. I didn’t really think he’d had any more than he normally does, he generally can put it away pretty good. But when it came time to leave, he couldn’t really stand, let alone drive, so I drove him home.”

  “Were you okay to drive?” Tori asked.

  Eddie shrugged. “Good enough. I drove Gunther back, parked the van in the driveway and Jeff and I helped Gunther inside his house. We got him to bed and Jeff drove me back home and that was it. I was home by midnight, I think, give or take.”

  “But Gunther was passed out?” Braddock asked.

  Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I mean he was dead weight as I hoisted him onto his bed. He was pretty wrecked.”

  “What was he drinking, beer?” Tori asked.

  “No, at my place we drink whiskey or when Jeff is there, he usually brings along bourbon, good bourbon, so we had that on Friday.”

  “Who was mixing drinks?”

  “We all were. We were on the pontoon for a bit early on and then sitting out on the deck looking out at the lake so whoever went inside usually brought refills back.”

  “How’d you get home then?”

  “Jeff drove me back here. He followed us to Gunther’s. He drove me back home and that was that.”

  Eddie, as did Warner, professed that Gunther had his issues. “But Tori, he’s a good guy. You know him. He’s a little off-putting but basically a good shit. He wouldn’t kill anybody.”

  “Good grief, Eddie, look who you’re talking to. Do you have any idea how many people have said that to me over the years about monsters living in their midst? You’ve seen it, the next-door neighbor shocked. ‘Oh, he was so nice,’ and it turns out the guy killed ten young boys or ran off with the neighbor’s twelve-year-old daughter. And as I understand it, and I hate even saying something like this and I respect that he and you both served. I really do, Eddie, I really do,” she said sincerely, “but from what I hear Gunther came back from Iraq a changed person and not necessarily in a good way. He smacked his ex-wife around too, so do
n’t tell me there isn’t a tendency to violence lurking in him.”

  “He went to war and came back damaged. Lots of guys did, Tori. The war, it was bad. But let me tell you something. Before he left he was harmless and he sure as hell wouldn’t have killed Jessie. None of our friends would have.”

  “I sure hope you’re right,” Tori replied bitingly as she and Braddock turned to leave.

  “Boy, you laid that on pretty thick,” Braddock remarked when they reached the Explorer.

  Tori nodded. “Warner talked earlier about Gunther not being too bright. I don’t care how nice Eddie’s house is or that there are three cherry sports cars in his five garages. I think Eddie’s a few cards short of a full deck, too.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “At the same time, he basically confirmed what Warner said and heck, what Gunther said to us last night.”

  “You believe Eddie and Jeff?”

  “Yeah, I do. You?”

  “Neither of them strikes me as being willing to fall on the sword for Gunther. Too much to risk.”

  Tori climbed into the Explorer. “What do we do now?”

  “I’m hungry, let’s go get a bite to eat. How about Mannion’s?”

  “A working lunch, then.”

  “Lunch?” Braddock replied with a light laugh. “It’s nearly four-thirty, I think we’re at early dinnertime.”

  Mannion’s On the Lake was the original bar and restaurant in the family restaurant empire, an empire now with restaurants in many states, as reflected on the map on the wall behind the hostess stand. There was a decent crowd in the restaurant around the bar and out on the patio that overlooked Steamboat Lake, typical on a warm summer Sunday, but there were still a few tables available.

  “Sunday night is the best weekend night to go out to dinner here in the summer,” Will stated. “The weekend crowd has usually packed up their cars by now and are starting to head back. It allows us locals to actually get a decent table.”