Crow Wing Dead

by Midge Bubany

  “Cal!” Clara shouted. “Respect your mother.”

  I pointed at her. “You stay out of this.”

  It was if my words were a physical force moving her back a couple inches. I had probably just lost my nanny/housekeeper/cook.

  Mom sighed. “He said you were friends. He said he was supposed to meet you here.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. “Mom, we are not friends. He is a dangerous man… dangerous. And you told him all about our family and now he knows many personal things about me, my marriage and my kids—things few people should know.”

  “He seemed very nice.”

  I hit my forehead with my hand. “The scar and eye patch didn’t give you a clue?”

  “Uncle Joe had an eye patch. Remember? Farming accident. He…”

  “Stop with the farming accident story.”

  “Well, I’ll guess I’ll be on my way.”

  “Good idea.”

  She picked up her things and headed out without another word. Clara stood in silent brooding.

  “Clara, you’re standing there looking all pissed off at me. Do you approve of what she did?”

  “No, I’m horrified, actually.”

  “Then why not support me?”

  “I had already told her what I thought. She knew she had done something really idiotic.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m sorry I let your mother stay alone with Henry and Lucy. I ran into her during the parade and asked her to watch the kids while I went to pick up Save-Rite chicken for lunch. She was going to eat with us. Gosh, she’s a bit of a flake, isn’t she?”

  “Now you’re getting it. ”

  “Before I forget, Brett Nickel’s office left an automated message reminding you of your counseling appointment on Thursday. Do you want me to cancel it for you with all that you’ve got going on this week?”

  “No, better not.” Which reminded me I had to call Phillip Warner to get the divorce started, but he wouldn’t be working on Memorial Day.

  Chapter 12

  The first thing I did back at work was jot a note on my calendar to call Phillip Warner tomorrow. Then as I ate the chicken lunch Clara packed, I thought about all the paperwork I needed to catch up on.

  Later in the afternoon, Sheriff Clinton dropped by to ask me for an update before she took off for the Cities for some sheriffs’ meeting.

  “Did you hear about the reward?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Irving Ames offered $50,000 to find his son-in-law.”

  “Huh. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  “He’s hoping fishermen will scour the lakes with their sonar devices. He said it was cheaper than hiring expert teams.”

  “Probably true.”

  “I released a statement to the press informing them of the reward and set up a tip line, which I put Crosby in charge of. Carole Knight is going bonkers with all the volunteers, which, thank God, dropped back this morning as everyone returned to their own lives. I mean I think it’s nice people are willing to help, but most just get in the way. She assigned the remaining die-hard volunteers to different areas in the county where they’ll go door to door.”

  “You’re doing all you can. Thank you for that.”

  “It’s my job. Crosby told me about this Bobby Lopez character. Do you think he’s involved in your friend’s disappearance?”

  “I doubt it, but I don’t know who or what he is.”

  She looked at her watch. “Well, I have twenty minutes to hear an update on the Hawkinson case.”

  After we went through the notes on the whiteboard, she said, “Well, you have to dig deeper.”

  I reminded her of my court appearance Wednesday and possibly Thursday.

  “You have Tamika full time, and you can bump up Crosby and Spanky’s hours from half to full as you see fit. Delegate. We gotta close this case out. And I need to be on my way. If anything breaks inform me immediately.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  As I was sitting at the conference table, making a list of people to interview, Tamika bustled in and sat next to me.

  “How’s your friend’s case coming?”

  I explained that I’d have to send someone else to the Cities to interview more of Hawk’s associates.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “You sure you want to be away from your kids?”

  “Are you kidding? They’re at each other’s throats lately. I could use a break.”

  “Okay then, sure.”

  After we discussed individuals to question and the strategy, she said, “Are you nervous about testifying at Victoria’s trial?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oliver said I won’t be on the stand long just having to testify about Victoria dumping paint all over Adriana’s car. That broad’s a serious lulubird. Hey, I had lunch with Shannon.”

  “You don’t have to report to me when you see her.”

  “I thought you’d like to know what she said.”

  “Not really.” Thirty seconds later, I threw my pencil down and said, “Okay, what did she say?”

  “That Adriana would be in town, and she wondered if you’d see her.”

  “Oh, see—that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to hear. Okay?”

  “Okay. I don’t like being in the middle anyway.”

  “You’re so far in the middle you’re sitting on the bull’s-eye.”

  She tipped her head and made a smug face. “Well, I’m moving my butt off it.”

  “Wise decision.”

  “Adriana texted me that she’d see me Friday, so she and Troy must be coming up soon.”

  “Back on the bull’s-eye.”

  “Fine. I’ll head out this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Maybe she would get more from his coworkers than I could. She had a chatty way that disarmed people.

  I pulled the picture of Shannon out of my wallet and stared at it. Tomorrow, I was starting the process of ending the marriage to my best friend. She was right after all: Getting together was the end of a beautiful friendship.

  Chapter 13

  May 27

  Fifteen days missing

  Phillip Warner had a cancellation—he could see me if I could be there in ten minutes. The drive to Warner’s office building along the river felt like a funeral march to me. This was the beginning of the dissolution of my short-lived marriage. Warner was the best attorney in town, but he had a cocky edge to him. Adriana had worked for him—twice—and they remained friends despite her pattern of quitting to move back to Minneapolis.

  Phillip greeted me at his office door with a smile and a handshake. As he strode to his desk, I noticed he’d grown a slight paunch since I’d last seen him.

  He leaned over to punch an intercom button on his phone. “Cal Sheehan is here.”

  He gestured to the round table in the corner. “Have a seat.” He buttoned his dark-gray suit jacket covering his new poundage before he sat on one of the four black leather armchairs. Once seated, he looked over his black-rimmed eyeglasses and said, “Just you today, or is Shannon joining us?”

  “Just me.” I sniffed the air. “Mmm. Your office smells like crisp new money.”

  “Ha-ha. I’m sure you mean that in a most positive way.”

  “You betcha.”

  We dealt each other a smile.

  “I was certainly dismayed to hear you and Shannon are considering divorce. In my experience a tragic loss is often a trigger.”

  “I suppose so.”

  A knock, then the door swung open and the blond jogger who I followed to North Woods Coffee entered. She was smartly dressed in a pin-stripped black suit. Her flaxen hai
r grazed her shoulders.

  “Cal, meet our newest addition to the staff, Iris Kellogg. She’ll be handling your case.”

  Handling my case? Wait. What?

  I stood and shook her hand. Firm grip.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” she said, not bothering with a smile. She took a chair and put a yellow legal pad on the table.

  “You too.” I cocked my head to look at Phillip. “No offense, Iris, but I thought Phillip would be handling this.”

  He said, “Iris is handling all our divorce cases.”

  “And wills,” she said. “We’ll update yours in the process.”

  “You have Adriana’s old job,” I said.

  “Yes,” Phillip said. “Actually, Iris has been with us for a few months but just recently bought a home in town.”

  Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut, but I hadn’t counted on being handed over to the newest employee, so I said, “How much experience do you have with divorce law, Iris?”

  “Before Warner, I worked for ten years with Harper, Jones, and Halloran in St. Paul, and all I did there was family law.”

  “She came highly recommended, and she’s doing a wonderful job. You’re in good hands, Cal,” Warner said.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay,” Phillip said. “You found the pre-nuptial agreement, Iris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re good to go.” Phillip stood and offered his hand. “You’ll be pleased with Iris’s work.”

  I was dismissed. Iris and I made our way down the hallway that smelled like a new car.

  She showed me to a room with a rectangular table that would seat eight. As we took places across from one another, I said, “I believe you’re my neighbor.”

  She froze and only her eyes moved to meet mine. “Oh?”

  “Do you live on the corner of Seventh and Morris?”

  “I do. And you?”

  “Behind your house on the corner of Sixth and Morris.”

  “You’re the house with the pool and yellow lab.”

  “Yes. I have pool parties. You’ll have to come.”

  I didn’t have pool parties except for one disastrous kid’s birthday party for Luke. Never again. Too many out of control boys. But since he was refusing to see me, it was not an issue.

  Not responding to my half-assed pool party invitation, she proceeded to open a brown leather notebook case and pulled out a red-colored file. She handed me the top paper. It was a copy of the pre-nuptial agreement.

  “What was yours before the marriage is yours after, and vice versa. Do you both still have sizable separate savings?”

  “Hers is from a lawsuit award when her husband was killed by a drunk driver. It’s a college fund for the children.”

  “It doesn’t matter how either of you acquired your wealth. Phillip filled me in on your family’s tragic accident a year ago. So terribly sorry for your loss. I’m told you haven’t settled with Estelle’s Candies yet?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll include the future settlement in the agreement. Okay, let’s get started. By the time we’re through, I’ll know what your bottom line is, especially with custodial rights of the children.”

  “I want to be fair. I don’t want to screw her over.”

  “That’s the attitude I like to hear.”

  After an hour, she said, “Okay, that’s all I need for now. Fill out this financial disclosure statement and fax it or drop it by. After I have a look at it, I’ll run my recommendations by you before we send a copy to Shannon. I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with her now, but I suggest you suck up any hostile feelings and play nice. In my experience, amicable divorces are better for everyone, especially the children.”

  “So, maybe I should tell her I started the process?”

  “Yes, but she may have already have done so herself.”

  “Maybe.”

  I decided to get the conversation over with, so I wouldn’t have to think about it. I knew she had the day off, so I took the chance she’d be home.

  When she opened the door she said, “What’s up?”

  “We need to talk.”

  She gestured for me to enter, and she followed me into her living room. She sat stiffly on a stuffed chair and crossed her arms in battle. I took the couch across from her, sat forward, leaned my arms on my thighs.

  She set her mouth in a defiant tight line.

  “I met with an attorney today to start the divorce process.”

  Her mouth went soft as a flash-over emotion crossed her face. I couldn’t tell if it was relief or hurt. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “It’s not because of Mac Wallace, although I was certainly hurt when I found out about your relationship with him.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before you found out from someone else.”

  I bit my tongue. I pushed down the anger that bubbled up. It’d been simmering for a while. I didn’t like that about myself, but it was the way I am.

  I said, “I don’t want to fight anymore, and I want our settlement to be fair. Just so you know, I told my attorney I want joint custody, fifty-fifty down the middle like we’ve been doing.”

  “Okay,” she said, barely audible.

  “You’re being awfully quiet. What are you thinking?”

  “I thought you came to apologize. The reality of divorce makes me so sad.” She began to cry.

  “Come here,” I said. She reached out her arms and fell into mine.

  I held and felt her body shudder with sobs. Soon my own tears spilled down my cheeks. When we stopped crying, she said, “I was afraid from the beginning this was going to happen.”

  “Why? And don’t give me the best friend bullshit.”

  “Maybe it was because I saw you through all your women, and one by one you broke it off, and I don’t like waiting for the end.”

  “It doesn’t have to happen. It’s not too late.”

  “Yes, it is. We’re not even friends anymore,” she said

  “Maybe as time passes we can get there again.”

  “Maybe.”

  I disengaged my arms from around her and said, “I should go.” I stood.

  “Cal, I hate to ask this now but…”

  “Just do it.”

  “I found out yesterday my family is celebrating my grandmother’s birthday on Friday, and I was wondering if I could have Henry and Lucy for just that night?”

  “Sure. Does Clara go with or get the night off?”

  “She can have the night off.”

  “Okay then, you’ll be hearing from my attorney.”

  “Mac says it would save money if we use the same one.”

  “Oh, Mac says.” I counted to ten. I wasn’t any calmer. “Of course, you’ve already discussed getting a divorce with him. I may have to get used to the idea of Mac being in your life, but I don’t need to hear what he says and thinks.”

  “I shouldn’t have phrased it that way.”

  “No.”

  I stopped at the door and said, “My attorney is Iris Kellogg with Warner.”

  “This isn’t easy for me, you know.”

  I remembered Iris’s advice to play nice, or I would have said: It was easy enough for you to sleep with Mac Wallace, wasn’t it?

  I brooded all the way home. I stopped to have lunch with Henry and Lucy, but they were already napping. Clara made me a tuna sandwich on rye.

  “So, how was your morning?” she asked.

  Since my private life affected Clara, I told her pretty much everything, and as I did so, tears slid down my cheeks.

  She patted me on the back. “Oh, Cal, things will get better.”

  “I know.”

&nbs
p; “I met Mac.”

  “Yeah, so did I.”

  “Oh, from the conversation I overheard, ‘met’ is too tame of a word.”

  “Hmm. So, what do you think of him?”

  “Pleasant enough man. You don’t want your wife and kids living with a jerk. Do you?”

  “Are they going to live together?”

  “No, no. But if they should.”

  “Right.”

  “Your mom called. She wants you to drop by before or after work some day soon.”

  “Not gonna happen. You do remember she let Bobby Lopez in my house?”

  “I know. But she is regretful, and you don’t do yourself any favors by being unforgiving and angry all time.”

  I glanced at her.

  “Oh, you think you’re disguising your emotions, but simmering inside is gonna kill you like it did my husband. Isn’t that therapist of yours helping you with letting go?”

  “He’s trying, but I’m not sure I want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because then I’ll have to feel something that’s worse.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Rejection, loss, loneliness.”

  “Oh, honey.” She came to give me a hug. “You’ll find someone better suited for you. Someone who’s not afraid to lose you and fulfill her own prophecy.”

  “Is that what Shannon did?”

  “In my opinion. Every single one of us operates with fears. We just need to name them before we can handle them. And I think you just did.”

  “Why am I paying Brett Nickle? I have my own live-in therapist.”

  She laughed. “I read a lot of self-help books.”

  “Now, I have to get back to work and dig into the paperwork.”

  “Oh, and Cal?”

  “Yes?”

  “You can find someone without five kids.”

  I shook my head and left.

  That night I filled out the financial documents Iris needed. I’d drop them by her office the next morning.