Crow Wing Dead

by Midge Bubany

  He said, “Will they drill me like your sheriff did?”

  Bobby looked at him in the rearview mirror.

  “Just tell the truth and you won’t have anything to worry about,” I said.

  “Can you come in with me?”

  “I’m not sure. Relax, Hawk. You’ll be fine.”

  He gave me a faint smile. “I just hate talking about it. Makes me relive all of it.”

  “Understandable.”

  Lee Sabin met us in the lobby. I asked if I could accompany Hawk while he was being questioned.

  “No, sorry.”

  So Bobby and I waited in the lobby.

  “He’s nervous,” Bobby said.

  “I realize that.”

  “He needs yoga.”

  “Yoga?”

  “To ground him.”

  “You do yoga?”

  “I do a lot of things.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Yoga enhances your sex life.”

  “No sex talk. Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

  We found a cafe downtown and bought a cup of coffee. Bobby ordered peach pie.

  He held up a forkful of pie and said, “Has your mother always been so politically liberal?”

  “Yes. Have you met Dee and George yet?”

  “No, but your mom said her mother is her polar opposite, but they get along.”

  “All true. Grandma Dee is a Lutheran church lady and a republican. She wouldn’t set foot in Mom’s old van because it still had a Gore/Lieberman bumper sticker on it, among others.”

  “I think she misses running that gift shop with your grandmother. She said you two lived with your grandparents since your dad left, and Dee and George gamble too much.”

  “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  “She’s very proud of you, you know. She brags about how you were an A student, and a star athlete. So why did you pick law enforcement?”

  “Because I like to help people.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

  We finished our coffee, and because we didn’t know how long they would keep Hawk, we went back to the police department to wait. Bobby had a way of pulling information out of people. I finally told him I preferred we sit quietly while we waited. He gave me that grin again.

  About a half hour later, Lee Sabin came out to say they were taking Hawk out to the scene, and I could ride along. He said to meet them in the parking lot.

  As Bobby and I walked outdoors, he said, “I find that curious.”

  “I guess they want to get a better picture of what occurred.”

  “Hmm. Call me when you want to be picked up.”

  The sheriff and Deputy Sue Anderson, who was along to record what transpired, rode in the sheriff’s squad car, while Hawk and I rode with Lee Sabin. Hawk took the backseat.

  “Hey, Lee, did you ever find Paul’s car?”

  “Oh, yeah. I meant to call you. It was in Kramer’s garage where he keeps his restored cars. The officer who first checked it thought Paul’s was part of his collection.”

  “How many did he have?”

  “Three. All restored by Woody Nash. We found three boxes of pills in Paul’s trunk packaged in gallon size plastic bags. Tested positive for oxycontin.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Shit.”

  Sabin looked in the rear-view mirror at Hawk. “The steering wheel and door handles were wiped down. Strange, huh?”

  I said, “Very. If it’d been Wynn, he’d probably have taken the oxy.”

  “See, I think someone moved the car, so Wynn wouldn’t know Paul was there.”

  “Hey, Hawk, why didn’t you take one of Kramer’s cars?” I said.

  He looked out the window. “I don’t know. My mind was pure shit.”

  “PTSD,” Sabin said.

  A warm gust of wind swept across the gravel farmyard creating a dust devil. The yellow crime scene tape still surrounding the property fluttered in the breeze. A crow flew into the oak tree beside the house. Others cawed from a distance, causing a sudden cacophony in the grove of trees north and west of the buildings. An image of the crows pecking at Paul flashed in my mind. Nausea flooded through me. I took out my phone and looked at a photo of the Twinks.

  Once we were all crammed inside the back porch, Sue Anderson began filming with a hand-held video camera as Lee began his questioning.

  “Mr. Hawkinson, you stated earlier that once you arrived at the Kramer farm in Ginty’s van, you were taken directly down to the basement at gunpoint by Glenn Hays and Raybern Ginty.”

  “Yes. Hayes had a shotgun and Ginty had a pistol.”

  “Were you restrained in anyway?”

  Hawk rubbed his wrists. “My hands were tied behind my back with zip lock ties.”

  “Where was Mr. Kramer?”

  “Standing just inside kitchen. They told him I was going to be his houseguest for a while, then took me down the stairs to the basement.”

  “Okay, let’s go down,” Sabin said.

  When Hawk got to the bottom step he pointed to the bloodstain on the cement floor.

  “Is that his blood?”

  “It is,” Sabin said.

  “I wonder why he was down here if Hawk was already gone,” I thought aloud.

  “I told him to make it look like I escaped, to rip the tape.”

  “What time did he let you go?” Sabin asked.

  “Early in the morning. He said I should get out before Wynn showed up. He asked me to hit him on the head to make it look like I knocked him out.”

  “Back to your first day. You mentioned they used a bike lock around your neck to secure you.”

  Hawk took a deep breath and said, “It was Ginty’s idea. He said he saw one used that way in a Breaking Bad episode. I sat on the cement floor with my back to that post, bike lock around my neck, so I couldn’t really bend over to get the tape off my legs.”

  Sabin pointed to the floor beside the stairway. “There was a lounge chair pad down here.”

  “On about the third day, I asked Norman for a blanket and pillow, and he brought the pad too. At night, he moved the bike lock lower so I could lay down and sleep.”

  “Did you consider trying to overpower Kramer when he was changing the lock position?” I asked.

  “What?” he snapped. “He’d move my hands behind my back first. He had a system.”

  “You said all three of the men took turns to check on you?”

  “Yes, and it wasn’t predictable as to who or the times or days. But Wynn was the one who showed up to handle the annuity paperwork. They’d throw a few threats around like they’d kill his dog. Wynn described my house to me. He’d been there. He knew exactly where I lived. And if I didn’t do as they wanted, he said they’d rape and kill my wife.”

  “So, why do you think Mr. Kramer let you go?”

  “I think I got finally through to him.” Hawk looked at the bloodstain and blinked back tears. “Can we get out of here?”

  The sheriff said, “Let’s go upstairs. I have a map. I want you to show us your route to Deputy Sheehan’s.”

  Sheriff Hudson spread a map out on Kramer’s kitchen table. He showed Hawk where we were.

  Hawk said, “I was afraid Snake or Ginty would see me if I walked along the road, so I cut through the grove and walked to the first farm, that way.”

  “West? Through the cornfield?”

  “Yes, newly planted”

  “Let’s go on out to where you cut across,” the sheriff said.

  As we walked out, the crows flew from tree to tree, cawing as if upset about our intrusion. If I was alone and had a rifle, I would have shot them all.

  As we approached the wide area marked off with crime scene
tape, Hawk pointed to it and said, “Is that where Paul was found?”

  I nodded. He turned and faced the grove, and after a few seconds, he turned and pointed in the distance. That’s the first farm I went to.”

  Lee Sabin said, “How long do you estimate you were at the second farm?”

  “Hours, because I slept.”

  “Did you hear any shots?” the sheriff asked. “That farm is pretty close.”

  “I may have been sleeping.”

  “Shots fired inside would have cut the sound,” Lee said.

  “Not the ones fired right here,” I said without thinking.

  Hawk winced. Those shots killed his brother.

  Lee said, “When you hit the highway, how long before you got a ride?”

  “Awhile. I looked pretty bad and people weren’t stopping. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have picked me up either. But then after a time, the kid stopped.”

  “Did you get his name?” I asked.

  “Jesse something. He said he knew you, Cal.”

  I thought a moment. “The only Jesse I know of is Jesse Emerson.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  The son of the man who killed my kid?

  “Well, that should wrap things up, unless Deputy Sheehan has any questions,” the sheriff said.

  “Just one thing. Why didn’t you or Kramer call 911 from the farmhouse?”

  “I wondered that too,” the sheriff asked.

  “In hindsight, I know I should have, but all I could think of was getting out of there before Wynn arrived, and then my next thought was to get to Cal… so we could warn Paul.”

  We took that in and were quiet for a few seconds until the sheriff said, “Okay, Lee will run Mr. Hawkinson by the two farms, take some film, but I have a press conference to get ready for. Are you going to join me, Deputy Sheehan, or is Sheriff Clinton?

  “Sheriff Clinton will handle it.”

  “I’ll drop you off at your car.”

  “After we’re through, I’ll take Michael wherever he wants to go,” Lee Sabin said.

  “Back to your lot is fine,” Hawk said. “My wife can pick me up. Thanks, Cal.”

  Once on the road, my thoughts centered on how Hawk handled his escape. If he didn’t think to use one of Kramer’s cars or call 911—or me for that matter, why didn’t he tell the people at the first farm to call 911 and tell them who he was and that he’d been held captive? My only conclusion was that someone under those extreme circumstances would operate differently, even irrationally.

  “Sheriff Hudson, does the evidence jive?”

  “Pretty much. There is one thing I found interesting. Michael says Norman was a nice guy, but his sister said she didn’t like him much because he had a mean streak. But then again that could be sibling rivalry from way back. A lot of families don’t get along.”

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “Polly Jacobs. She lives in Cross Lake. She said the only thing Norman loved as much as himself was this dog.”

  “Wonder if they killed him too.”

  “My guess is yes.”

  “Have you spoken with Jesse Emerson?”

  “Not yet. Michael didn’t know his last name until you supplied it, but I expect his story will check out. Now, we need to find Mr. Wynn pronto. Is he as bad as everyone says?”

  “He is. Any prints or DNA on the shotgun?”

  “Wiped clean. The rope and bike lock had Ginty’s, Kramer’s, and Michael’s DNA, but the ice cream bucket contents contained only Mr. Hawkinson’s DNA.”

  Once in the Crow Wing Sheriff Department parking lot, I thanked the sheriff, then headed over to Bobby’s Escalade. As I hopped in, I said, “We can go. They’re visiting the farm sites. Hawk’s wife will pick him up.”

  “How’d he do?”

  “Sheriff Hudson thought he did all right. I think it was difficult for him to be back in his prison of three weeks.”

  “Learn anything?”

  “Paul’s car was hidden in plain sight, in Kramer’s garage, bags of oxy in the trunk. I question if Kramer was somehow involved.”

  “Dead men don’t speak.”

  “Kramer’s sister didn’t like him.”

  “Oh?”

  “Hawk said he was a good guy. Why wouldn’t his sister like him?”

  “Look at your own family. You don’t like your father, even though Hope says he’s basically a good man.”

  “She said that? In my opinion, a good man doesn’t abandon his children.”

  “I’ll give you that one. Hey, while I was waiting for you, I got a call from Irving Ames. He said he wouldn’t need my services. His men have installed outside cameras to catch anyone trying to come on the property. It’s all good,” Bobby said.

  “That makes me think Ames didn’t want you hearing his conversations, especially if he was involved in Hawk’s abduction? He could know the drugs were being routed through his businesses. Hell, maybe it’s his major business, and the others are fronts. Hawk was getting close to the truth, so he ordered a hit.”

  “If he ordered a hit, why’s Hawk still alive?”

  “Because Ames saw how miserable his daughter was without her husband?”

  Bobby rubbed his chin with his hand. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I doubt he would keep him alive to extort a few thousand out of him. I think that was Nevada Wynn’s brilliant plan.”

  “By the way, I spoke to him on the phone.”

  “Who?”

  “Wynn.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I tracked his cell phone down while you were doing your thing.”

  “And you’re just telling me now?”

  “I was getting to it.”

  “How were you able to find his number?”

  “I know some people in communications. Anyway, when I told him you needed to talk to him, he said he needed to talk to you too, because he didn’t murder anyone.”

  “And you believe that?”

  “I don’t know the man.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I told him to meet us at my place. He may be there now.”

  “Your place? That’s nuts.”

  “Where would you suggest we meet? It can’t be a public place. He’s more likely to think he can come in safely to a residence out in the country.”

  “What about your family? Are they safe with that lunatic at your place?”

  “I sent them to Hope’s. Wynn was in Minneapolis when we talked. It’ll take him a while to get here.”

  “And now my mother is involved.”

  Chapter 30

  Bobby had a surveillance room in one of the bedrooms. He had a large portable table covered with monitors, covering all sides of his property, plus the entrance to the driveway.

  “A little paranoid, are we?”

  “I could set you up with a nice system.”

  “No thanks. I have windows.”

  “I have trees blocking my view.”

  Bobby made coffee and sandwiches. I accepted the coffee and watched birds and squirrels on the cameras. He stood in the doorway watching me watch the cameras.

  “You’re acting a bit nonchalant under the circumstances,” I said.

  “The kid is an amateur.”

  “An amateur killer. I’m comforted.”

  “He said he didn’t do it.”

  “Yeah, and that means he didn’t.”

  After that, we didn’t talk much. I ate an egg salad sandwich, drank another cup of coffee, and watched two squirrels going at it.

  About an hour later, I was taken aback when a black Buick Enclave showed up on the driveway screen. Bobby picked up a remote and zoomed in.
/>   “It’s Wynn.”

  As we both made a beeline to the front door, Bobby’s cell phone rang. On the way he grabbed his Barrett rifle leaning against the wall. I pulled my Smith and Wesson M&P nine millimeter.

  Bobby spoke into the phone. “Get out of your car. Walk to the door with hands on your head.You move one hand toward your body and you’re dead.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have a sound system.”

  “I do. I’m just not using it.”

  I watched Wynn through the window as he walked toward the house. “I want to cuff him. Have him lie on the ground.”

  “Stop where you are and lie on the ground. Hands on your head.”

  Wynn complied. I moved the six feet he was from the door, and cuffed his hands behind his back, then frisked him for weapons. He was clean. Then the thought occurred to me that this whole thing could have been a set-up. That I could have been the one they wanted to take out—and I had played right into it.

  I abruptly stood and looked for Bobby. He was right behind me with his rifle trained on Wynn. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. With one hand, I lifted Wynn to a standing position by his waistband and escorted him inside the house. Bobby pushed him into a stuffed chair.

  Wynn looked up at me and said, “I didn’t kill anybody like the TV said I did.”

  “Who did?”

  “I need a deal in place before I tell anybody anything.”

  “What makes you so sure you’ll get one.”

  “Because I have information?” He wiggled away from the back of the chair. “Will you take these cuffs off? ”

  “We can put them to the front,” Bobby said, and nodded at me like he was in charge.

  “He’s fine,” I said to Bobby. Then to Wynn, “So,why should I believe you?”

  He closed his eyes. “Look, I did some things wrong. I’ll take the hit for whatever I did.”

  “Like?”

  “Like forcing Mike to pay Paul’s debt. But after I got the money, I was going to let him go. I told Mike that. I’m a man of my word. Ask anybody. Snake does what he says, they’ll tell you.”