by C. E. Nelson
They drove north in Carlisle’s Subaru before turning west toward the mall and then north again. Roberts lived in a development of newer homes, mostly small ramblers and split-entry homes. They pulled into the driveway of the powder-blue split-level and stopped behind an older pickup. The yard seemed to be well-kept, two small maples staked-up and small shrubs along the walkway to the front door. Carlisle knocked.
A tall man in a gray sweatshirt and jeans answered the door. He had a sharp nose and tired green eyes. Somewhere inside a child was crying.
“Did you find her?”
Carlisle had her identification out but had not held it up. “Pardon me?”
“You’re the police, right?”
Carlisle looked at Lerner. “Yes. I am Agent Carlisle of the BCA and this is Agent Lerner. And you are?”
“Jake Roberts.” He waited. “So? My wife?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Roberts. I think there is some confusion here. We came to talk to your wife.”
“Shit.” The child inside the house yelled louder. “I got to get my daughter. Come in.”
Roberts didn’t wait for a response, turning and walking up the stairs to an open living room. The agents followed. He picked up the crying girl in the playpen there and held her close, kissing her on the cheek and talking to her in a calming voice. He walked with her to a recliner in the corner, picking up a baby bottle on a small table there. The child immediately grabbed it and put the nipple in her mouth.
“I take it your wife is missing?” said Carlisle.
“Yeah. Never came home from work last night. She worked the night shift.”
“At the hospital?”
“Yeah. I called the hospital to see if she was pulling a double and then some of her friends and her parents, but no one has seen her. I called the cops about three hours ago.”
Carlisle made a note to check the time of his call to police. “Has she done this before?”
“No. She always calls to let me know if she’ll be working late.” Roberts was rocking, the child in his lap.
“OK. So, when I talked to your wife last night she said she was being threatened.”
“You talked to her last night?”
“Yes. She said –-“
“Oh no.” Roberts’ chin dropped. “About the drugs?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Christ. I told her not to say anything. They must have seen her.”
“Who is ‘they’ Mr. Roberts?”
“The Hillside people.”
“Your wife said she thought that someone had killed a patient at Hillside because someone was taking the woman's drugs. Do you know anything about that?”
Roberts looked down at his daughter. “Yeah. They wanted Sandy to steal drugs from the patients. Offered her a bonus to do it, but she refused. They said if she said anything about it she would be in trouble.”
“Who specifically?”
“The manager, Mrs. Rahn, and other nurses too.”
“I take it they were stealing medications from all the patients?”
“I think so.”
Carlisle looked at the child, eyes now closing. “All right. Thank you for your time, Mr. Roberts.” She turned to leave.
“My wife?”
“We will follow up with the Duluth PD and let you know if we hear anything.”
“Please. No word to anyone about Hillside, please.”
Carlisle looked at the small child in the frightened man’s arms, turned, and walked down the stairs. When she got back to her car, she took out her phone and pressed the call icon for Sergeant Hillary Thomas of the Duluth Police. Thomas and Carlisle had gone through the academy together and worked briefly together on the Duluth PD.
“Hey, Danny. How you doing?”
“OK. How about you?”
“OK doesn’t sound too good. What’s up?”
Carlisle wanted to talk to her about Pearson. But not with Lerner in the car. “We’re working on the murder of the woman at Hillside last week. I wanted to talk to a former nurse there, a Sandy Roberts, but her husband claims she is missing. Said he called it in.”
“Hang on. Let me check.”
Carlisle picked up a stray seed from the console, popped it in her mouth and caught Lerner looking.
“Yup. About three hours ago.”
“So. Anything?”
“Nah. I mean we told him we’d keep an eye out for her but you know it’s way too early for us to get too involved. Probably a domestic disagreement.”
“I don’t know, Hill. I went over to their place to talk to him, and he’s pretty worried. Said he’s contacted her work, friends and family, but she hasn’t been seen.”
“Hmm. OK. I will make it official and get something out.”
“Thanks. Let me know.”
“For sure. You up for beer and pizza tonight? Hubby took the screamers to his parents for the night.”
“Indeed I am. See you at Finnegan’s?”
“6:00?”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
Carlisle started her car. “I’m not liking where this is going, Lerner.” She turned, backing the car out of the driveway.
“Where to? We going to talk to the Hillside people again?”
“We need something concrete on them. Let’s go talk to the Maples’ kids again and see if they noticed anything or their mother said anything to them and then try to reach the families of some other residents.”
Chapter 14
“You OK?”
Trask was watching his wife push her salad around with her fork. Not seeing much reaching her mouth.
“Yeah. Just not too hungry.”
Trask’s hand went to his heart, and his eyes and mouth opened wide.
“Knock it off, Trask. I could sit on you and kill you if I wanted to. And if this kid doesn’t come soon I may want to.”
“Sorry.”
She sighed and put down her fork. “I love eating. Why can’t I eat?”
She looked serious, and Dave was thinking she was going to cry. He reached across the table and took her hand.
“Hang in there. It can’t be long,” he said. “Doctor appointment this afternoon?”
“Yeah. I hope she wants to induce.”
Dave felt a wave of panic pass over him at hearing the word ‘induce’. He looked at his wife and then her stomach. He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready to be three instead of two.
“What’s happening on the Bishop murders?” said Linda as she picked up a piece of lettuce, inspecting it, and then slipping it into her mouth.
“Nothing yet. It’s odd though. They just stood and stared at whoever shot them. Why would you do that?”
“Maybe it was just too incredible for them to believe that whoever shot them was shooting them.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Like it was the pastor of their church or their parents.”
“Or their son.”
“Sure.” She ate another piece of lettuce. “Someone known to them. Close to them.” She picked her fork back up and started in on her salad in earnest.
“Think our kid will be as smart as his mom?”
“Hard to say. At least we know he’s got to be smarter than his father.”
Trask dropped Linda back at her office and returned to his office. Green followed him into his office. He thought she looked very thin.
“Nice lunch?”
“Just fast food with Linda.”
“She should be eating healthy.”
“She is. She had a salad. Part of one anyway. The fat lady didn’t eat much.”
“Oh, oh.”
“What?”
“When the hunger decreases, it’s a sure sign the kid is on the way.”
“Really?” said Trask.
“And I don’t think you want to be calling her the fat lady.”
“Right,” said Trask. “So, what can I do for you?”
Green looked at the note pad in her lap. “Dan Bishop has, or had,
two brothers and three sisters. One sister, Laura Maples, died in the last week. She was terminal with Alzheimer’s. Lisa Bishop is an only child. Parents of both are deceased.”
“Hmm. Brother and sister dead within the space of a couple of weeks. That’s tough. Have you spoken to any of the other siblings?”
“Not yet. Working on the contact info.”
“OK, good work. Let me know if you come up with anything else.”
Green left, and Dave picked up the phone.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“I haven’t been to the doctor yet.”
“Not why I’m calling. Did you or Willy do an autopsy on a woman named Laura Maples recently?”
“I think Willy did. Let’s see.” Linda hit a few keystrokes. “Yeah. That one was a little odd. Woman had Alzheimer’s, but that wasn’t what killed her. She died of asphyxiation.”
“I don’t remember hearing anything about that.”
“Stuff doesn’t always get out.”
“Hmm. Duluth PD in charge?”
“Uh, nope. BCA.”
“Interesting.”
“How so?”
“She was the sister of Dan Bishop.”
“According to this her primary doctor had only given her a few weeks to live.”
“More interesting. Thanks,” said Dave. “You want me to go with you to the doctor?”
“No. I don’t want you passing out or anything. I’ll call you after.”
Trask called the Duluth office of the BCA and identified himself, asking to speak to the agent in charge of the Maples’ investigation. They put his call through to Bob Farmer.
“Sheriff Trask. What can I help you with?”
“Hi, Bob. I’d like to talk to whoever you have investigating the death of Laura Maples.”
“Uh, Carlisle was on that, but we’ve shelved it.”
“How so?”
“We really had nothing concrete and, frankly, the family was relieved to see her suffering ended.”
“I see.”
“Why are you inquiring?”
“Laura Maples’ brother was shot to death yesterday.”
“That thing west of Two Harbors?”
“Yeah. Husband and wife shot point blank.”
“OK. I will call Carlisle and have her give you a call.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
Trask’s phone buzzed before he could get up to go for coffee.
“Sheriff Trask.”
“Agent Carlisle, Sheriff. Bob Farmer asked that I call.”
“How are you doing, Danny?” Carlisle and Trask had worked on a couple of cases together.
“Trying to find out who killed a sick old lady.”
“Bob said that your investigation had been shelved.”
“I just pulled it off the shelf.”
“Making progress?”
“I think so. So, what would you like to know?”
“I’m looking for whatever information you may have about the death of Laura Maples.”
“And that is because?”
“Because her brother was just shot dead.”
“Good grief! Well, that throws a wrench into things.”
“How so?” said Trask.
Carlisle brought him up to date on what she knew about Maples’ death, including the possible drug theft and the missing nurse.
“OK. Now I have to wonder if there isn’t some drug connection here.”
“Or no connection at all?” said Carlisle.
“Yeah,” said Trask. “OK. We need some coordination here, I think. What is your plan right now?”
“I’m about to talk to Laura Maples’ children to see if they knew anything about missing drugs and then try to contact the relatives of other residents about the same thing.”
“All right. I am trying to contact relatives to see if they know any reason why someone would want to shoot Dan Bishop and his wife.”
“We’ve got that contact information, Sheriff.”
“Great. If you could email it to Marcy Green in my office, I would appreciate it. I will text you her info. And please keep me informed if you would.”
“Ditto, Sheriff.”
Trask had forgotten about his coffee. Could Sam Bishop be tied to the drug thing at Hillside and his parents had found out? He wanted to talk to Sam and his friend again. He texted Carlisle and then walked out of his office and over to where Marcy Green sat.
“Danny Carlisle from the BCA will be texting you the contact information for the Bishop siblings.”
“And why would the BCA have that?”
“Seems they are looking into the murder of Dan Bishop’s sister, Laura Maples, from about a week ago.”
“Related to this one?”
“Don’t know. They’re working a drug angle on it. That doesn’t seem to fit right now. And the woman was smothered. Someone shot her brother. That doesn’t seem to fit either.” Trask stared off into space.
“Anything else?” said Green.
“Yeah. Give me the contact information for Sam Bishop, please,” he said. “And run Sam Bishop and Daniel West for priors.”
Chapter 15
The Duluth Public Library was built in 1980, a block off of the freeway. It’s a long, narrow building, shaped like half an emery board – square at one end, rounded on the other. There’s a patio outside the rounded end which doesn’t get much use because of the noise from the freeway and the few months it’s actually warm enough to sit outside. There is a limited amount of diagonal parking around the building, but Carlisle found a spot. She and Lerner got out and walked into the building.
Janet Maples stood behind a Formica counter talking to an older woman, pointing to her left as she talked. She did not notice Carlisle and Lerner until the woman walked away.
“Agent Carlisle?”
“Hello, Janet. This is my partner, Agent Lerner.” Lerner nodded. “We have a few more questions for you. Is there someplace we can talk?”
“Um, sure. We can use the small conference room. Just a minute.”
Maples walked into a room behind the counter separated by a large glass window giving the occupants a clear view of the counter. She spoke briefly to a woman of about fifty seated at a desk in the room. The woman looked at the agents through the window, nodded, and then stood, following Maples back out of the room. Maples walked around the end of the counter to her left and then back to where the agents were standing.
“Follow me.”
They walked past an area with comfortable looking red-fabric covered chairs, a few occupied by people reading books and magazines, to a closed door. Maples had a key card in her hand which she slid through a reader next to the door. She pushed the door open, holding it for Carlisle and Lerner to enter. They all sat at a brown laminate racetrack-shaped table in matching worn brown fabric chairs with rounded backs.
“Is there some news?”
“Did you ever get involved with the purchase of your mother’s medications?” said Carlisle.
“No, not really. Hillside pretty much took care of that. They’d order them whenever she ran low. My father handles all the medical bills.”
“So, you were not involved in the administering of her medications either?”
“No. Hillside did that too,” she said. “What’s this about?”
Carlisle ignored her question again. “Did your mother ever mention anything about someone taking her medications?”
“You mean like stealing her pills?”
“Yes.”
“No, but, I mean, you couldn’t really put too much into anything she said,” answered Maples. “Was someone taking her medications?”
“We don’t know. You noticed nothing regarding her meds?”
“No, but like I said, I wasn’t involved in that at all.”
Carlisle glanced at Lerner and then stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss Maples.”
“Do you think my mom was killed because she saw someone stealing her pills?”
Ler
ner stood.
“Again, we don’t know at this point. We’re just checking every possibility. Thanks again.”
Carlisle and Lerner walked out leaving Maples still sitting at the table. They walked back to the Subaru. Carlisle got in, Lerner picking a seed off of his seat before sitting.
“You want this?” he asked, holding the seed out to her.
Carlisle thought about it, but the guy had been sitting on it all morning. “Toss it out the window. Have you got Bob Maples contact information?”
“Back at the office.”
“OK. We need to talk to him and see if we can get a copy of his wife’s medical bills.” She started the car. “And then we need to get hold of the relatives of the other residents and do the same.”
“This is going to take some time.”
“Yeah. Call Hillside when we get back and get a list of all the residents and the relatives who are the contacts. Just tell them it is part of the investigation. Don’t need to raise any flags there.”
Carlisle was about to put her car in reverse when her phone buzzed.
“It’s not 6:00 yet. You need a beer already?”
“No, but you might,” said Hillary Thomas. “We found it.”
“What?”
“Sandy Roberts’ car. It’s in the lake. And she’s in it.”
Carlisle parked on 61, about two miles north of the Glensheen Mansion. Traffic had slowed to a crawl in both directions, rubberneckers trying to see what was happening at the large white house on the lake. Three police cruisers were parked on 61 and another was visible in the driveway, on the other side of the police tape. Carlisle showed her ID to the cop in the driveway and he pointed them south. Because of the police car in front of it, Carlisle hadn’t noticed that there was another driveway on the property.
It was a gravel drive, tracks with grass between. Carlisle and Lerner followed it down the slope to the lake, passing an unmarked car on the way. As they approached the shore, they could see people standing at the back of a tow truck. The truck was sitting on a row of concrete strips that led into the water. A private boat launch. Two men in wetsuits were in the water holding the cable that had come from the truck. There was a breeze coming off the lake, cold and damp. Carlisle zipped her jacket to her chin and wished she had brought a cap.