Come Homicide or High Water

by Denise Swanson

  “They won’t blame either of you.” Jerita rose from her chair. “I have it all here. In addition to the school district, I’m going to instruct my attorney to name Mr. Knapik specifically in our lawsuit and go after his private assets.”

  “You can’t do that!” Homer lumbered to his feet. “I have immunity.”

  Skye held back a chuckle. Did Homer think he had diplomatic status?

  “I absolutely can.” Jerita waved her cell phone in the air. “Acting outside the scope of your employment or engaging in reckless conduct removes any protection you might have. You can’t mock students and summarily dismiss parent concerns without consequences.”

  With that, Jerita tapped a number into her phone, held it to her ear a few seconds, then said, “Ms. Steiner, I’m through here and will be at the office shortly. Thank you for taking my case and for allowing me the time off.”

  Piper and Skye exchanged a look, then they watched Jerita march out of the office.

  “Did I hear that right?” Homer sputtered. “Is that woman talking to your sister-in-law?”

  “Sounds that way.” Skye smoothed a wrinkle from her black wool pants.

  “I thought Loretta was about to pop a baby out any day now.”

  “She’s got a couple weeks until her official due date.” Skye didn’t really think Loretta would make it that long, but it was fun to see Homer squirm.

  “Well, a lawsuit would take more than a couple of weeks to get going.” Homer blew a dismissive breath. “And no other shyster in town will touch that woman’s case.”

  “Probably not.” Skye shrugged. “But knowing my sister-in-law, not only will she get the suit in motion before she goes into labor, if necessary she’ll follow up from the delivery room.”

  Homer swung his gigantic head in Skye’s direction. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Why would I do that?” Skye kept her expression completely innocent. “Loretta will love this case. And if you doubt she can do it before having the baby, did you know that she’s hired a new paralegal?”

  “Who?” Homer thundered.

  “From what we just overheard, my guess is that Loretta’s new employee is our contentious parent.”

  Skye closed the files. If she couldn’t come up with a compromise, this would get ugly fast.

  “Fine. Test her little brat.” Homer’s face turned an alarming shade of purple. “I am not losing my house and life savings over it.”

  “I plan to evaluate her child.” Skye stared coolly at Homer. “But after what you said to her, I doubt that will stop Mrs. Quinn from suing you.”

  “You’re so smart.” Homer shook his finger at Skye. “You make this right.”

  “As the Zen proverb says, knowledge is learning something every day. Wisdom is letting go of something every day. And I’m putting this matter right back in your lap where it belongs.”

  Homer loomed over Skye. “I liked you better before you married into all that money. I even defended you when Pru called you a gold digger.”

  Willing her face to remain expressionless, Skye said calmly, “In order for you to insult me, I’d have to value your opinion.” Skye shrugged. “Nice try though.”

  Chapter 4

  Take Me Home, Country Roads

  After dropping off Skye at the elementary school, Wally returned to the police station and checked in with Thea Jones, the day shift dispatcher. She reported that things were quiet in town and there was no news on the missing woman, so he grabbed his lunch from the break room fridge and retreated to his office.

  As he ate his turkey and Swiss on rye, he made notes in the Edie Baker file and considered what the best next move would be in locating her. The city council would have a hissy fit when they saw that he’d called in Anthony and Martinez. But with as small a work force as the Scumble River PD employed, there was no getting around giving officers extra shifts. When they complained, Wally planned to point out that if they would hire two more officers, as he’d been suggesting, they could avoid paying the overtime.

  Finished with his sandwich, Wally made a list of people he needed to telephone. He could only come up with two names and he chewed the end of his pen trying to think of someone else who might have information about Edie Baker’s whereabouts.

  A few seconds later, he reluctantly added another person to his list, but before picking up the phone, he opened the water bottle Skye had tucked in his lunch bag. She’d packed it along with his grapes and the banana oatmeal squares she’d manage to bake during one of the twins’ naps.

  Taking a long swallow of the cool liquid, he thought of how grateful he was that she’d taken over the chore of preparing his lunch. He usually forgot to do it himself and ended up eating fast food or nothing at all. He really was the luckiest guy in the world. How had he ever persuaded her to marry him and have his children?

  Noticing how warm it was in the station, Wally took another gulp of water. He really needed to have a talk with Thea about her habit of kicking up the heat. The temperature was supposed to be set at seventy, but the dispatcher was always cold and usually nudged the dial to seventy-eight. And since heat rises, that put Wally’s second-story office close to eighty.

  Before he got started on the telephone, he ran downstairs, readjusted the thermostat, and grabbed the whiteboard from the interrogation room a.k.a. break room. He carried the dry-erase easel upstairs and placed it next to his desk, then sketched a rough map of Bord du Lac.

  If Edie Baker wasn’t found by the end of the day, Wally would create a grid of the outlying area and call in volunteers to expand their search. Then if there were no results from that, he’d have to request the fire department try a water search.

  As Wally finished the bottle of water and tossed it into the recycle bin, he caught a glimpse of his watch and frowned. It was nearly two o’clock. Skye would be texting him for a ride soon and he wanted to have completed his calls before that time.

  Number one on his list was the son and number two was the health aide. But before lifting the receiver, Wally turned to his computer and did a Google search on Ford Grogan. It was always a good policy to research persons of interest before speaking to them. And he definitely wanted to get some information about the man who advised his stepfather to abandon the search for his mother.

  There were only two hits for Grogan and one was to a social media page that he was denied access to when he tried to click on it. The other was a short piece about the man’s early retirement from the Bakersfield public works department. According to the article, his departure was due to a job-related injury. Evidently, Grogan had been shot while removing graffiti and the injury had resulted in the loss of his left leg.

  A trickle of sympathy shot through Wally’s chest. A duty-related, career-ending wound might be the reason for the man’s harsh words regarding his mother. Something like that could certainly make a man bitter.

  Picking up the handset, Wally dialed Grogan’s number. The phone rang and rang, and Wally was about to hang up when he was finally greeted by a gruff voice.

  “This is Chief Walter Boyd of the Scumble River Police Department,” Wally said smoothly, having uttered a similar statement a thousand times. “I’d like to speak to Ford Grogan, please.”

  “You got him,” Ford snapped. “If this is about Edie, I don’t have any information and don’t give a shit what happened to her.”

  “That’s a shame,” Wally said, then ignoring the man’s hostility asked, “When’s the last time you saw or talked to your mother?”

  Ford snarled, “She called a year ago, but I didn’t pick up. Some idiot notified her when I was shot and she wanted to know if I was okay.”

  “You never spoke to her?” Wally asked, wondering what had happened between the mother and son that resulted in this kind of hostility.

  “Why would I? If I’d wanted to talk to her, I would have answere
d my phone.” Ford’s tone was hard to read, but Wally thought it might have held a hint of sadness or maybe self-pity. “I haven’t seen her since I left Illinois thirty-six years ago.”

  “No visits?” Wally thought he knew the answer but had to ask.

  “After I knocked the dust of that hellhole you people call a state off of my boots, I never went back.”

  “I see.” Wally studied Ford Grogan’s picture on his computer monitor, but it didn’t give him any clues about the man.

  “Listen,” Ford snarled. “Don’t call me again. She didn’t give a damn about my well-being when I was younger, so I don’t care about hers now.”

  Disconnecting, Wally made a note of the time and date of his conversation with Grogan, then googled the home health aide. There were no hits on the name Krissy Ficher and he frowned. Wondering if Baker had given him the correct spelling, he tried a few variations, but there was nothing that he could connect with the caregiver.

  Unusual as it might be, it wasn’t unheard of for someone to be completely offline, so Wally shrugged and dialed the woman’s number. It was answered on the first ring and he identified himself, then asked to speak to Krissy Ficher.

  “Speaking.”

  “I’m calling regarding Edie Baker,” Wally explained.

  “Did something happen to her?”

  “Edie has been reported missing,” Wally said and paused to gauge the aide’s reaction.

  “Oh my gosh!” Krissy squeaked. “I am so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I was hoping you might have an idea of where she might go.”

  “Not really. We rarely leave the Bakers’ property when I’m with Edie.” There was a hesitation, then Krissy said, “I had a personal matter come up and couldn’t make it to take care of her last weekend so I haven’t seen her in over ten days. And I’ll be out of state for at least another week.”

  “Please let me know if she contacts you. Also, as soon as you get back to Illinois, I’d like you to come to the police station for a more in-depth interview.” Wally wrinkled his brow. His gut said that there was something he needed to find out from this woman but couldn’t think of it. Finally it came to him and he asked, “Why didn’t you let Mr. Baker know that you weren’t going to be able to work your shift with his wife?”

  “I did,” Krissy said. “I texted him the minute I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it.”

  After thanking Krissy for talking to him, Wally said goodbye and hung up, then cringed when he saw the last name on his list. Sadly, in good conscience, he had to make the call. She would probably know more about Gerald Baker, and possibly Edie, than anyone else.

  Gritting his teeth, Wally punched in the number for the Scumble River Star, then took a deep breath, preparing himself to talk to the newspaper’s owner.

  “Kathryn Steele, how may I help you?” On the first ring, an attractive contralto voice that had made many people drop their guard and tell all answered.

  “Wally Boyd here, Kathryn,” Wally said pleasantly. “I’m hoping you can give me some background on Gerald and/or Edie Blake.”

  “Why?” Kathryn eagerly pounced. “Has something happened to him?”

  “His wife is missing.” Wally kept his tone level. “I understand she has dementia and may have just wandered off, but I wondered if you had information that might make me consider foul play.”

  Kathryn chuckled. “If Gerald was missing, I would say yes. He’s a rigid jerk who has managed to alienate nearly the whole population of Bord du Lac. But Edie is a sweetie, so probably not.”

  “How did a sweet woman come to marry someone like Gerald?” Wally asked.

  “Before I tell you anything more, I want the exclusive story,” Kathryn demanded. “I can just get it into Wednesday’s paper.”

  The Star was a weekly, and if it didn’t make that edition, the news would be old by the next one. Not to mention that the Joliet, Kankakee, and Laurel papers would scoop her.

  “Sure.” Wally fidgeted in his chair, anxious to end the conversation, but knowing they’d want something in the paper about the missing woman anyway. “This morning, Baker called and…”

  Once Wally had gone over Gerald Baker’s call, the officers’ current search, and the interview he and Skye had conducted with the husband, he said, “That’s it so far, but I promise to keep you in the loop.”

  “I don’t just want the ‘official’ party line,” Kathryn said sharply.

  “Of course not,” Wally assured her, hanging on to his temper by a thread. “Calm down.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Wally tensed. He knew better than to say something like that. Skye would be so disappointed in him. Actually, if he were smart, he’d have asked Skye to deal with the newspaper owner.

  After a moment of frozen silence, Kathryn said icily, “Telling a woman to calm down works about as well as baptizing a cat.” She paused, then added, “And makes her about as angry.”

  “Sorry,” Wally said. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” Kathryn’s satisfaction came through the phone line. “So you want to know the dirt on the Bakers.”

  “Yes, please.” Wally kept his answer brief to lessen the likelihood of putting his foot back into his mouth.

  “It’s his second marriage, her third. All previous spouses are dead.” Kathryn paused. “Maybe they both killed their other spouses and when they tried to do each other in, Edie ended up at the bottom of a lake.”

  “That might be possible,” Wally said carefully, “but you just told me she was a sweet woman. And he’s the one that called to report her missing.”

  “Still—”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” Wally hastily interrupted, running his fingers through his hair. “Anything more on the couple? Clubs? Friends? Habits?”

  “Gerald’s a member of the VFW and attends their meetings. He and Edie also show up for their fundraisers. I haven’t heard that they were particularly friendly with anyone though.” Kathryn took a breath. “Gerald’s only hobby seems to be spying on his neighbors and reporting their misdemeanors to the Bord du Lac HOA.” She paused. “Oh, the Bakers do eat at the American Legion’s pancake breakfast every other Sunday and the Lions fish fries on Fridays.”

  “How in the world do you know that?” Wally was amazed at the breadth of Kathryn’s knowledge about the citizens of Scumble River.

  “Because he regularly posts a complaint about either the service or the food.” She chuckled. “I once asked him why he keeps going back and he said that he had as much right to cheap meals as anyone else.”

  Once Wally thanked Kathryn—although he wasn’t sure for what since her information hadn’t sparked any ideas of where to search for Edie Baker—he disconnected the landline and took his cell phone from the case attached to his duty belt. Swiping the screen, he saw that he had missed a couple of texts and a voicemail.

  He tapped the icon with his thumb and read the message from Skye first. Meeting is over, but I need to confer with my intern. Probably another hour.

  The second text was from Beilin Quinn: Sorry I wasn’t at the house this morning. I’ll be there by one. I won’t leave until the kitchen is ready for the cabinets tomorrow.

  Beilin’s voicemail repeated the same message.

  Returning his phone to its holder, Wally stared into space, considering his next move. He’d told Skye that he’d let his father handle the general contractor, but it might be a good idea to run over to the work site and talk to the man face-to-face. If Beilin couldn’t handle the job, they needed to find someone else to finish up the house ASAP.

  Wally notified Thea that he was going 10-7 for an hour, but if there were any news about the missing woman, she should call his cell phone. Then he closed the Baker file, straightened his desk, and stepped into the corridor.

  Shooting the mayor’s offi
ce a dirty look, Wally ran down the stairs. He hadn’t been at all happy when Hizzoner had harangued Skye earlier. If he hadn’t been a hundred percent sure she could handle her uncle, he would have stepped in to set the man straight. However, knowing Skye preferred to fight her own battles, he’d hung back and kept an eye on the situation. But one of these days, Dante was going to go too far.

  Wally smiled meanly. He’d already bested the mayor a few times, including getting his authorization to bring Anthony on full-time to replace an officer Wally had had to fire. His smile slipped. Now if he could only find someone to take the part-time position.

  Shaking his head—he hated the administrative portion of his job—Wally marched into the garage, slid behind the wheel of his personal vehicle, and backed out. He’d never admit it to his father, but he loved the modified Hummer that his dad had presented him with after his Thunderbird had been destroyed by the tornado.

  Heading for home on autopilot, Wally’s mind turned to their childcare situation. Skye teased him about wanting her available, and to a certain extent it was true, but he knew his wife, and he knew she’d never be happy without a life outside of raising their twins.

  He thought that they’d lucked into hiring a great nanny, but the woman’s sudden resignation made him wonder if they could find someone they trusted and who was willing to put up with their unusual families. He hadn’t had the heart to share his concern with Skye yet, but he thought finding a nanny might be trickier the second time around.

  Wally hoped he was wrong, but he needed to talk to Skye about his suspicions pretty soon so they could come up with an alternative solution before she had to return to work. Although they could afford for her to be a stay-at-home mom, that wasn’t a role she’d be happy occupying for too long.

  And even if she did decide to take a hiatus from her position, she’d never leave the district in a lurch by quitting without giving them time to find a replacement—an event that was about as likely to occur as the next Chicago mayor’s election being unopposed.