Crow Wing Dead

by Midge Bubany

  “Where did you hold Michael Hawkinson?”

  “At Norman’s.”

  “Why there?”

  “No one around.”

  “Here’s the deal. My cases are only those that happened here in Birch County: the abduction of Michael Hawkinson and the burglary of the Brooks cabin—add in the breaking and entering. We have you for those. Believe that. Now the three murders that occurred in Crow Wing County are not mine to investigate. But unless you give names, Crow Wing won’t bargain.”

  “All I know is everybody was alive when I left town. And there were only so many people who knew Mike was at Kramer’s.”

  “Who?”

  “I won’t say anymore until I get a deal.”

  I shrugged. “Tell me what you did with Willie,” I said.

  “Willie? Norm’s dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “I dropped him off at the animal shelter in Brainerd.”

  My eyes narrowed and my head tilted toward Wynn. Hard to believe Snake would do something honorable.

  “Why?”

  “Norm asked me to because he was sick and thought he was going to die. The place was called HART. It’s on Dellwood Drive. Call and ask them.”

  “Easily enough checked. Now get up,” I said. “I’m delivering you to Crow Wing County.”

  As Bobby put Wynn in the front passenger seat of the Escalade, I called to tell Patrice what was happening, but she wasn’t answering. Then I remembered she was already in Crow Wing at the press conference. I left a message.

  I aimed my firearm at the back of Wynn’s head all the way to Prairie Falls. Bobby guarded him as I signed in and checked out a vehicle, then we transferred him to the backseat.

  “Who’s he going to give up?” Bobby asked with a whisper.

  “Maybe Cheney or Ames.”

  “Keep an open mind when you hear what he has to say.”

  “What do you think he’s going to say?”

  “I’m not a mind reader. How are you getting home?”

  “I can walk, and thanks for whatever you did today.”

  “You owe me big time.”

  I screwed up my face.

  “I’m kidding. Catch you later.”

  I brought Wynn directly to the Crow Wing County Jail on Laurel, where they placed him in a holding cell. I then walked over to the courthouse to find Patrice. The press was packing up, and obviously, I’d missed the news conference. Cat’s Lexus passed right in front of me. Hawk was sitting in the front passenger seat. He waved at me, but they didn’t stop, which I found odd.

  “Cal!” I turned and spotted Patrice by her squad car.

  She walked toward me.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “Fine. Did you hear that goddamn jury in the Lewis case couldn’t reach a verdict? I mean really?”

  “In all fairness, they had conflicting testimony.”

  “Oliver’s going to retry her.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing. If he can uncover Brock Snyder’s close ties with Adam Lewis and can prove there was a payoff, he cinches a conviction.”

  “He said you told him about Snyder’s employer after the fact.”

  “It’s my fault?”

  “No, it’s Oliver’s. Anyway, I got your message about bringing Wynn in. You’re a rock star, you know that?”

  “Not exactly. I had help from Bobby Lopez.”

  “The guy who brought Victoria into the courtroom?”

  “The same. He’s banging my mother.”

  A smile slowly materialized. “Good for her.”

  “Really?”

  “Anyway.”

  “Anyway, Wynn claims he didn’t kill anyone.”

  “I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard someone tell me they were innocent. Sheriff Hudson told me you questioned why Michael didn’t call 911 from Kramers. Were you just trying to prove your objectivity?”

  “No, it struck me as odd.” And yes, maybe I was.

  “Hudson said he was running scared.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Well, let’s go find Tim and talk about the lying Snake in the grass.”

  “You punster.”

  “I thought it was clever.”

  “It was.”

  Patrice and I met briefly with Sheriff Tim Hudson and Lee Sabin before they questioned Nevada Wynn. Lee was to call me afterward. Then we drove our separate vehicles back to Prairie Falls. After checking in, Patrice said, “You look exhausted. You should go home, get some rest before your big party tomorrow night.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “I plan to. If I hear anything, I’ll call you.”

  When I got home, Clara was in my kitchen cooking.

  “Aren’t you at Shannon’s today?” I asked.

  “They’re at her parents. So, I thought we’d get started on the party food.”

  “We?”

  An attractive woman rounded the corner, followed by a black-and-white dog, and Bullet at his heels. She had the most amazing aquamarine eyes. When she smiled, deep dimples appeared in her cheeks.

  I said hi to her—clever devil that I was.

  “Cal, you haven’t met my daughter Dallas. She’s volunteered to help me with the party food.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Dallas, and thanks for helping.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too. I’ve certainly heard all about you.”

  “Oh-oh.”

  “All glowing, believe me.”

  “Whew, that’s good because your mom sees me at my worst. So you have two other children, right, Clara?”

  “Yes, Jamie lives in Minneapolis, and Scott lives in Chicago.”

  I knelt down to pet the dog. “And who’s this?”

  “This is my new rescue dog, Willie,” she said. “He’s a real sweetie.”

  Bullet moved in, jealous I was giving another dog some attention. I petted them both.

  “Willie? Did you get him at the shelter in Brainerd?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “I bet he’s Norman Kramer’s dog.”

  “He is. When I called about him, they said his owner was ill, but then when I picked him up I was told he belonged to one of the men who’d been killed.”

  At least Wynn was telling the truth about the dog, or at least gave the same story to the shelter and me.

  “You look like you could use a beer,” Clara said. “Sit down and Dallas will get you one.”

  Clara nodded toward the fridge. Dallas gave her a look.

  “No, I’ll get it,” I said. “Anyone else want one?”

  Dallas picked up a large knife. “Not while I’m handling these.”

  I pulled a Stella from the fridge and sat at the counter to watch the two women slice and dice. Dallas resembled her mother, except for the color of her eyes and hair, but I suspect Clara might get her red hair out of a bottle; Dallas had light-brown hair cut short. They were both approximately five feet six inches, and had the same body build, although Dallas was slimmer.

  “Thanks for doing this. I didn’t think this thing through. You’re coming, right, Dallas?”

  She smiled. “I think I can make it.”

  “Good.”

  “Dallas works at Prairie Veterinary Clinic.”

  “Are you a vet?”

  “I am. Maybe I’ll be able to see Bullet sometime.”

  Both dogs were flanking Dallas as she worked at the counter. Bullet was looking up at her adoringly.

  “I think he’d like that. Be sure to let me know what I owe you for the food and extra time.”

  “Food’s on the debit and the time I consider part of my salary. I’m making a pork roast tom
orrow for pulled pork sandwiches.”

  Dallas said, “Your neighbor, Iris, dropped by. She seemed surprised to see us here.”

  “Oh?”

  “She dropped off a bag of groceries, mostly chips and nuts. She said if you needed anything else you should call her.”

  Clara said, “Are you seeing her?”

  “No, she’s just a friend.”

  My cheeks tingled, and Clara and Dallas exchanged those raised eyebrow looks women give each other whenever they think they’re being lied to.

  Chapter 31

  June 7

  Just because I didn’t go in to work on Saturday, didn’t mean I wasn’t working. What Nevada Wynn told Crow Wing was on my mind all day as I helped Clara clean the house and complete the errands on her list, and when I mowed and edged the lawn. By three o’clock I finished all my chores and couldn’t stand it any longer. I called Lee Sabin and asked the burning questions.

  “I was just going to call you, Cal. Okay, Wynn claims Woody killed Kramer and Paul, and he thinks one of Woody’s employees killed him because he’s such a dick to work for.”

  “Come on.”

  “I know, right. According to the BCA, Woody died before Kramer and Paul. And Wynn’s DNA showed up on Kramer’s refrigerator handle and a water glass.”

  “So he was there recently.”

  “He was definitely there. We’re going to charge him because he had motive and opportunity. His only alibi is his prostitute girlfriend Franchon Smith, but she says she wasn’t home and doesn’t know where he was. You’re right about the loyalty not being there.”

  “Did he say who his drug boss is? That’s who we should be looking at.”

  “He says he picks up the product from a guy in Kansas City, sometimes Des Moines. I passed that info along to the task force.”

  “And you don’t think anyone connected with Irving Ames Enterprises is responsible? The warehouse employees, Cheney Martin?”

  “At this point we have no evidence to support Martin’s involvement.”

  “I expect not.” With Cheney’s skills, there would be none.

  “Well, thanks for the information. Good luck wrapping it up.”

  “It’s been good working with you.”

  “You too.”

  I almost invited him to my party, but thought better of it. But I did give Hawk a call via Cat’s phone.

  “He has a new phone number, but here he is,” she said, obviously handing the phone over.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said.

  “I’m having an impromptu party tonight and if you’re not busy, I thought you and Cat might want to come.”

  “Man, that is just what I need. What time?”

  “Six o’clock.”

  At five thirty, I was showered, shaved, and ready for the party dressed in khaki shorts and a black T-shirt, when my doorbell rang. I was stunned to see Clifford and Jesse Emerson standing on my stoop.

  “Hello. What can I do for you two?” I asked, wishing I was wearing my firearm.

  “We came to give you your money back. Jesse took sixty dollars for delivering your friend to your house. He was the one who was missing. Right?”

  “Right.”

  Jesse pulled three rumpled bills out of his pocket and handed them to me, barely making eye contact.

  “I shouldn’t have taken the money. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but still I shouldn’t have taken it.”

  “That’s it,” Clifford said, and the two turned and walked off toward Jesse’s Mazda.

  “Thanks.”

  Clifford raised a hand but didn’t look back.

  I stood in my door, completely stupefied, and watched the two of them drive off. I had demonized Clifford, and maybe he deserved most of it for driving while still under the influence, but just maybe he was a man with integrity who used alcohol to dull his pain. Wow. People never cease to surprise me.

  Within minutes, Dallas and Clara arrived bearing plates of food.

  “You’re the best, Clara.”

  “Dallas helped with all of it.”

  “You’re the best too, Dallas.” She was wearing a sundress that matched her aquamarine eyes. “Pretty dress, it suits you.”

  She gave me a face like she wasn’t buying it. “Where do you want these, Mom?”

  “On the counter.”

  “And, Clara, you’re looking lovely tonight as well.”

  Clara wore a pair of white crop pants with a yellow and white floral shirt. She was wearing make-up and had her hair styled.

  “Boy, you’re full of it tonight,” Clara said.

  “You two need to accept my compliments. I mean what I say.”

  Clara fluffed her hair with her hand and smiled. “We went to the spa. Dallas treated me to the works: cut, color, a manicure and pedicure.”

  “She’d never do it for herself,” Dallas said.

  I made a mental note to give Clara a gift card to a spa salon for Christmas.

  “How’s Willie?” I asked.

  “He’s great. He’d been well taken care of.”

  “Always good to hear. Thanks for all you’ve done, ladies. I appreciate this.”

  “I’m happy to do it because this house needed a party… we all need a party with the year we’ve had,” Clara said.

  I hadn’t considered how much our family troubles had affected everyone around us.

  Patrice arrived five minutes early—alone.

  “I was hoping you’d bring your husband,” I said. He’d managed to avoid all department social affairs.

  “He sends his regrets. He had other plans.”

  And it wasn’t to hang around with deputies.

  “I just got off the phone with Tim Hudson. They’re charging Nevada Wynn with murder one.”

  “I can guarantee you he will plead not-guilty, and there’ll be a trial.”

  “Fine by me. You know Michael is extremely lucky. He very well could have been victim number four.”

  “He knows. I’ve invited him to the party. I thought he could use a little celebrating.”

  “We all can, can’t we? What a year!”

  Her too?

  Others arrived: Eleanor Kohler, Tamika and Anton Frank, Spanky and Sadie, Crosby, my mother and Bobby, Hawk and Cat, then more deputies—for one, Matt Hauser, the widower who I thought Eleanor might like—but still no Shannon.

  Iris walked through the backyard with her friend. Wait. Was that Erica, the new EMT everyone was gossiping about? She’s tall, slender, athletic and tough looking with the scowl she usually had on her face. Her short black hair was sheared to a buzz cut. Tonight as she strode across the lawn in a light-green sleeveless top and white shorts, she looked softer—sexy—appealing.

  Iris took me by surprise when she leaned up and kissed me square on the lips. She then took my arm and introduced Erica. With Iris still attached, I turned to see Shannon standing alongside the house watching the whole thing. I disengaged my arm from Iris’s grip, mumbled to Erica it was a pleasure, then hurried to Shannon, who held me at bay with both hands jutted out in front of her.

  I put my hands in my pocket. “Glad you came.”

  “Right. Things never change, do they?” she said.

  I took a deep breath. She was jealous of Iris. No, things don’t change. I gave her a smile. “I bought Bud Light and Clamato Cheledas just for you.”

  “Do you think I’m blind? This was a mistake, I’m leaving.”

  Just then Cat ran up and hugged Shannon telling her she was so happy to see her. They walked off arm in arm and into the house, suddenly bosom buddies. Women were weird. They were friends with people they don’t even like. I walked over to Eleanor Kohler, who was sitting with Matt Hauser. Things were looking up.
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br />   “Beautiful evening,” Eleanor said. “I hope the rain holds off.”

  “Me too.”

  “Matt, how are you?”

  “Getting better all the time.” He smiled at Eleanor.

  I then moseyed over to Dallas and Clara, who were fiddling with dishes on the food table.

  “Oh-oh. I’d say Shannon saw the kiss Iris planted on you,” Dallas said.

  “Obviously you did too.”

  A loud burst of laughter came from the group surrounding Hawk: Spanky and Saddie, Patrice, Tamika, and Anton.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I’ve always felt the need to monitor what Hawk tells my friends about me.”

  Spanky put his arm around my shoulder. “Hawk was just telling how in seventh grade you got caught stealing pumpkins from the police chief’s ­garden.”

  “Oh, see, Hawk was part of it. It was Hawk’s idea, and he neglected to mention to me it was the chief’s garden, and Sparky and I were the ones who got caught, because Hawk ran off.”

  Hawk shrugged and burst into laughter. “His wife was a kindergarten teacher, so he wrote a ticket saying their fine was to carve pumpkins for his wife’s class.”

  “It was kind of fun.”

  “Then there was the time at St. Cloud when he went to freshman English class still drunk from our first kegger. He fell asleep during class. The professor threw an eraser at him, and he didn’t even wake up,” Hawk said, howling with laughter and in the process stumbling backward.

  That was when I understood he was absolutely blitzed.

  “The professor said to ignore the bonehead, and he passed back our essays all the while telling us what horrid writers we were. He put Cal’s on top on his head and read his score aloud to the class. He said Cal got a C+ which was the highest score in the class, which didn’t say much for the rest of us.”

  “And here I thought you were Mr. Perfect,” Tamika said.

  “Let’s hear about your young and dumb days,” I said, stopping to cast a glance at everyone individually.

  Tamika’s husband, Anton, said, “Yeah, honeybuns. Let’s hear your stories.”