Crow Wing Dead

by Midge Bubany

  “Now that ain’t gonna happen, and I need a refill,” Tamika said.

  “Let me get it.”

  When I entered the great room, Shannon and Cat were huddled together on the couch. They saw me and stopped talking. They were obviously commiserating on what an asshole Shannon was married to.

  “Ladies, are you enjoying yourselves?”

  “Not exactly,” Cat said. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand to be around Michael when he’s drunk.”

  “Why did you let him drink that much, Cal?” Shannon said.

  It’s my fault? “I wasn’t monitoring his drinks and normally he can handle his liquor.”

  “Well, look what he’s been through,” Cat said.

  “He can’t drive. I’ll help you get him in the car.” I said.

  “I’m not taking him. I don’t want my parents to see him like this.”

  “He can stay in your guest room, Cal,” Shannon said.

  “That’s fine,” I said.

  Cat and Shannon grabbed their purses and left out the front door without saying goodbye to anyone. Not that I blamed Cat for being angry, but if she’d been outside, maybe Hawk wouldn’t have gotten sloshed.

  I went back. Tamika looked at me and said, “Where’s my wine?”

  “Oh, sorry. Was it white or red?”

  “Red,” she said.

  Before I refilled her glass, I took the opportunity to use the main floor restroom. I opened the door, which was slightly ajar, and saw Iris and Erica kissing full on the mouth, with their hands up each other’s shirts.

  “Whoops. Sorry.”

  For a few seconds they stared me and I at them. I yanked the door shut and stood stunned, my back plastered to the wall. I could hear giggles from the bathroom. After I regained my wits, I left to go upstairs to use my own bathroom.

  “Holy shit,” I said to my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands.

  When I came back down the two women were in the kitchen nonchalantly refilling their glasses of wine.

  “Sorry about the intrusion,” I said, as I filled a glass of red wine for Tamika.

  Iris smiled. “We should have locked the door.”

  Or waited until you got back to your place?

  “It’s a great party,” Erica said. “We’ll have the next one. Right, hon?”

  “Right.”

  “Sounds… like a plan,” I said.

  They walked out as if nothing had occurred. I shook my head as I recalled all the flirting I’d done, the fantasizing, and the kiss when she arrived. I had no fricking clue she was a lesbian, even though her friend, Erica, was rumored to be one. And, damn it, Iris led me on.

  I was shaken out of my musing by a crash on the deck. I sprinted out. Hawk was on his butt next to an overturned table, plates and drinks scattered across the deck out onto the lawn. Hawk jumped up and said, “I’m okay.”

  I handed the glass of wine off to Tamika, told Hawk to sit down, then with everyone’s help cleaned up the mess.

  “Woo, he’s wasted,” Dallas whispered.

  It wasn’t too long before Hawk was snoring in the lounge chair.

  “Poor guy,” Patrice said. “He’s self-medicating.”

  “Is that was he’s doing?” I asked.

  “And I need to run.”

  Clara came to tell Dallas she could stay later because Patrice was giving her a ride home.”

  “Thanks for coming, you two.”

  The remaining guests carried on, ignoring Hawk, just like they had me in my freshman English class. By eleven o’clock, only Spanky, Saddie, and Dallas remained. After the four of us cleaned up, I asked Spanky to help me get Hawk to the guest bedroom on the first floor. We tried fruitlessly to get him to walk. We ended up grabbing shoulders and feet, carrying him in. After throwing him on the bed, Spanky left the room. I had taken off one of Hawk’s shoes when he murmured, “Fucking, Paul. That fucking Paul. He made me kill him.”

  “What do you mean, he made you kill him? Who?”

  He answered me with a snort.

  I shook him, asking him the same questions over and over. I stared at Hawk awhile not knowing what to do. He was out cold. It’d have to wait until morning. I closed the door and walked out.

  Sadie and Spanky were standing at the back door. He said, “Good party, man. Just thankful I could stay for the duration.” He was on call for the weekend, so he’d remained sober.

  I thanked them for coming and helping with the cleanup, then gave them hugs goodbye.

  Only Dallas remained. “They are such a cute couple. I fully expect those two to have an announcement soon.”

  When she picked up her purse, I found myself not wanting her to leave.

  “Would you like one last drink?”

  “Sure. I could use a beer.”

  I grabbed us each a Stella, and we went back out. In the distance lightning danced across the sky illuminating the billowing clouds.Ten seconds later the thunder rumbled indicating the storm was only two miles away.

  Dallas held out her hand. “I just felt a drop.”

  “We should get inside,” I said.

  “How about we sit on that wonderful front porch of yours and watch the storm?”

  “Great idea.”

  We walked through the house and out onto the porch, each taking an Adirondack chair. We sat in silence as we listened to the light rain hitting the roof in an uneven cadence. The leaves rippled from the swollen drops. A sudden brisk breeze blew in bending even the largest branches of the trees.

  “And here it is,” Dallas said. “I love storms. Lucky the party was over before it hit.”

  “And lucky for Hawk I had second thoughts about throwing a blanket on him and leaving him out on the deck.”

  “I don’t usually have sympathy for drunks, but I can’t believe his wife just left him here after everything he’s been through.”

  “She didn’t want her folks to see him in that condition.”

  “I fully understand. My ex was a drunk. I hid it because I never wanted anyone to know how stupid I was to have married him.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Three years.”

  “Was he a drunk before you got married?”

  “Yes, but our crowd was all about alcohol. That’s all we did—drink with friends. Then, one day I decided it was time to grow up, but he didn’t. In fact, he became so livid when I suggested he had a drinking problem, that he smacked me across the face. That night I locked myself in the guest room, and the next day when he went to work I called my boss and asked for a leave. I told him my Dad was sick, which was true. I moved home with mom, and I was able to help her with his care. When Dad died, I was ready to go back to work and find a place in the western suburbs, when Dr. Foster with Prairie Vet called. So, I made the decision to stay. I practically have the house to myself because Mom is either at your place or Shannon’s most of the time.”

  “Seems like it works out well for both of you.”

  “And here I don’t have to worry abut running into Vince every time I go out.”

  “Are you afraid of him?”

  “I haven’t seen or talked to him since he hit me, but our mutual friends say he’s drinking more than ever.”

  “It’s good you’re out of it. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you wear colored contacts?”

  She chuckled. “No, I get that all the time.”

  “You have amazing eyes, Dallas Bradley.”

  “Well, thank you. Cal, I have something I need to say to you.”

  “What?”

  “That I’m here for you as a friend. I know you’ve been through hell and back this past year, and I feel you need someone to talk
to who isn’t trying to hit on you when you’re vulnerable—like Iris.”

  “Oh, I don’t think we need to be worried about Iris. I caught her and Erica feeling each other up in the bathroom.”

  “Oh, my God. Seriously?” She let out a giggle.

  “Yep.”

  “Wait until I tell Mom. We thought Iris had a thing for you.” She began to giggle, and it turned into one of those times when you can’t stop laughing. We’d both get control, then one of us would burst out with a laugh, and we’d carry on for another minute while wiping tears from our eyes.

  When we finally got hold of ourselves, I asked, “Why were you named Dallas? Did your dad want a boy?”

  “No, his favorite team was the Dallas Cowboys. He and Mom played blackjack before I was born to see who got to name me. Dad won. True story.”

  “What did your mom want to name you?”

  “Grace.”

  “Huh. That was my mother’s name.”

  “Really? Anyway, so, I’m Dallas Grace.”

  I smiled.

  “Dallas Grace, let me ask you something. What if you knew something about someone you loved that would send them to jail?”

  She squeezed her eyes to slits. “Are you asking me if I’d turn him or her in?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Depends on who it was and what they did.”

  “I think it’s bad, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “Did you just find this out tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d sleep on it to get clarity. You want to talk about it?”

  “No. Sorry I brought it up.”

  We took pulls of our beer.

  “Mom says Shannon’s a jealous one.”

  “I’ve never gave her a reason to be.”

  “Some people are insecure. My ex was. If I’d even looked at someone longer than he thought I should, he accused me of having an affair.”

  “Have you ever cheated?”

  “No, that’s not how I roll.”

  “I cheated on Shannon recently.”

  “Is it cheating if you’ve been separated for months?”

  “I don’t know, but we hadn’t had sex since the accident a year ago. She wouldn’t let me touch her, but she’s been with Mac Wallace.”

  “I know. I saw them together at a restaurant—Minnesota Fare. I think it’s understandable for a man in those circumstances.”

  “I had no intentions of sleeping with this person. I had a weak moment. And I don’t know why I just told you this.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m closed-mouthed.” She patted my hand. “You’re a good man.”

  “Dallas, I like you and I like being around you, but I can’t really see anyone until my divorce is final. No reason other than I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

  “We could pal around once in a while—with other friends.”

  “I’d like that.”

  We talked for a long while, and when the rain let up, she glanced at her watch and stood. “It’s getting late. I should be on my way.”

  I wanted to kiss her, but didn’t. And as I watched her taillights disappear, I hoped I’d see her again soon. I faced the front door and remembered what Hawk said to me in his drunken stupor. I vomited over the porch railing.

  Chapter 32

  June 8

  Sunday morning, I picked the newspaper up off of the bottom step. As I walked back into the great room, I yawned. I’d slept horribly. I made myself a cup of coffee, then glanced at The Star Tribune’s headline: Lewis Heiress Thought to Be Aboard Missing Lewis Company Jet.

  “What the?”

  I read on. A family spokesman said the Lewis jet departed from MSP airport late Saturday afternoon with a scheduled stop in Quebec to pick up another passenger before heading on to Paris for a family member’s birthday party. Victoria Lewis, Minneapolis, MN, was the only passenger aboard at the time the plane went off the radar in Canadian airspace. The crew aboard were pilot Brock Snyder, co-pilot Emily Strom, and flight attendant, Gretta Holmgren. Adam Lewis, Victoria’s father, was unavailable for comment.

  “Holy shit.”

  I flipped the television on and tuned in to CNN. They had more information. Somewhere over Ontario west of Ottowa, the plane had simply vanished. Weather may have been a factor. They showed photos of Victoria, spoke of her recent legal troubles and the hung jury case in Birch County. They aired a clip of her giving a statement after the trial. She said the fraud case was all a misunderstanding. She had used her roommate’s ID with permission when she’d lost hers—it was no big deal. They then showed a film of her dressed in a red gown, obviously attending some gala—she looked beautiful. Yes, her sociopathic soul had a beautiful wrapper.

  But was this for real? Brock Snyder flew a stunt plane; he could have pulled off flying under the radar, changing planes in some small airport. Until they found a crash scene, I’d doubt its validity. This could be Lewis’s way of handling his daughter’s legal problems. She could be anywhere in Europe by now. Then again, maybe Adam Lewis sabotaged the plane to get rid of Brock Snyder—a witness he paid off—and Victoria hadn’t even been onboard.

  Hawk was still sleeping when Clara arrived at eleven. Shannon would bring the twins here at noon. She set her purse on the counter and said, “Did you see the news about Victoria Lewis’s missing plane?”

  “Yes.”

  “A fitting end for an evil one. Boy, oh, boy, your friend, Hawk, was three sheets to the wind last night.”

  “He’s still sleeping.”

  “Have you checked on him? When Scott was in college, he almost died of alcoholic poisoning at a fraternity party. His fraternity brothers let him lie in his vomit in the bathroom. One of the pledges finally called 911.”

  I went to the guest room, opened the door to listen for Hawk’s breathing. I moved in closer until I saw his chest rise and fall. I closed the door behind me.

  Clara said, “Well?”

  “He’s alive.”

  “Good. That boy isn’t going to feel well when he wakes up.” She took a bottle of Advil out of the cabinet and set in on the counter. “Dallas had a wonderful time last night.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, I very much enjoyed talking to your sheriff.”

  “Your sheriff, too.”

  “She’s one smart cookie. I hope she’s reelected next year.”

  “Hmm.”

  After the Twinks were down for their naps and Clara left for the grocery store, Hawk strolled into the great room.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “One o’clock.”

  “Really? I never sleep this late. Do you have any aspirin?”

  “Advil okay?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  I handed him the bottle and a glass of water, and he shook out four pills.

  His eyeballs looked like a road map, and he smelled as if he’d fermented in a barrel of beer overnight.

  He set the empty glass on the counter with a clunk and said, “Wow. I didn’t know where I was when I woke up. I had one shoe on and one off.” He touched his temple. “Man, I tied one on. I apologize.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, no, it’s not. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself or Cat.”

  “She left early because you were drunk.”

  “Oooh. I’m in trouble. Damn. I don’t remember much of the evening. I suppose she took the car. Can you give me a lift to Donovan’s?”

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  “I remember coming to the party.”

  “You don’t remember telling me you killed him.”

  His eyes flashed to mine. “What did you say?”

  “You told me all about how you kill
ed him.”

  He put his hand to his mouth. “Anyone else hear?”

  “Just me. Now I want to hear your sober version.”

  He slapped his cheeks with both hands, let them slide down the side of his face stretching his skin. He looked at the floor. “Fuck me.”

  Then his face changed, hardened. He made fists and jabbed one toward me. “He knew I was tied up in Kramer’s basement. Fucking Paul. He was part of the whole goddamn thing. And by the way, Kramer was a real prick. We weren’t buddies—we didn’t smoke pot together. He threw my food at me like I was a dog—less than a dog. He showed me pictures of Woody with a bullet through his forehead. Said he killed him. Told me I was next, if the check didn’t come. He said he would send Wynn to rape my wife and kill her.”

  “Who did you shoot first?”

  “Kramer. The first chance I had to put that monster down, I took it—like you suggested. And by the way, you were being a prick the day we went out to the farm—asking me why I didn’t call 911 or drive off in one Kramer’s cars. What was that about? I thought you were my friend.”

  “I know. Tell me how it went down.”

  “He started getting careless. I was waiting for him to make a mistake, then the night before I escaped, he forgot he’d given me a fork. I spent the night tearing the duct tape off the back of my wrists and ankles, so it looked like they were still bound. That morning he set the shotgun down close to the stairs, then this one time he took the bike lock off before he moved my hands. He didn’t know what hit him. I whacked him in the head with my food dish—a nice heavy metal dog food bowl—he stumbled backwards, and I grabbed the shotgun. He looked pretty stunned when I cocked it. Bastard begged me not to shoot him. It felt damn good to pull that trigger. I heard footsteps come down the stairs, expected it to be Ginty or Wynn, but it was Paul. He took one look at Kramer, and the fucker took off like a goddamn baby-ass coward. I followed him and yeah, I chased him down and shot him too. My fucking brother betrayed me, Cal!”

  Clara flung open the door. She took one look at us and froze. I took the groceries from her and set them on the counter.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, why don’t you go up with the kids? We can deal with the groceries later.”