Murder Book

by Weber, Frank F. ;

  “I feel bad for Serena. She had a brutal fight with whoever attacked her.”

  Tony still wasn’t ready to express sympathy for Serena, so he changed the subject and flatly told me, “Vicki’s disappeared.”

  Concerned, I asked, “Did they issue an APB?”

  Tony dismissed the all-points bulletin suggestion. “Hell, no. Why? Rumor has it she’s burning out in a meth house on the west side of Little Falls. And don’t go after her. The DEA has a drug sting involving that house, and we’ve been directed to stay away.”

  “Is her daughter with her?” I was overcome with sadness. I felt like no one ever took her seriously, which had to be hard on a person. What had happened to her?

  Tony shook his head. “Vicki’s daughter is with her grandparents. In other news, the CSI crew found porn on the Brennan home computer. Sites like Barely Legal. And the ballistics test proved the gun we found by Jeff Lemor’s home didn’t fire the shots into your car. But just so you know, the BCA team still believes Lemor is the guy.”

  I was becoming even more convinced that the crimes were connected. I thought the perpetrator burned both the van and Serena’s home in an effort to destroy evidence. I turned to see Sean Reynolds’s silver Crown Victoria approaching.

  Tony muttered, “Sorry, kid. You’re going to be interrogated about the assault on Serena and, indirectly, about Mandy’s murder. Both Serena and Mandy were dating you, and you were in close proximity to both at the time of the assaults. Your cell phone pinged off a tower close to Serena’s home at the time she was assaulted.”

  I didn’t like the familiar feeling of having my innocence questioned. “I was at my parents’. They’ll vouch for me.”

  Tony nodded. “Their credibility is not real good at the present time,” he reminded me. “Serena reported her attacker was bleeding. The blood could have easily come from your injured hand. Just don’t cover up for anyone and you’ll be fine. You need to get free of the web you’ve let Serena spin around you.”

  I had already considered that I was an obvious suspect in both assaults, so I was a bit surprised it took this long before I was brought in. Tony was right about one thing: I was caught in a web, and it was tightening around everyone close to me.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Nine

  SERENA BELL

  2:30 P.M.

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16

  PIERZ

  IT WAS STARTING TO SNOW, and I had no plans to drive back to the Cities tonight. I absolutely didn’t want to be snowed in without Jon, either. I was finished with the insurance investigators and now without a place to stay. I couldn’t presume to stay with the Fredericks’ until I had a chance to apologize to Camille and Bill for the whole wire incident. I prayed we could get past it.

  I spent some time on the phone with my parents, who were dreadfully worried about me. I considered myself incredibly fortunate to be the benefactor of their love and kindness, but I needed the comfort only Jon could provide. I was too afraid to be alone, so I stopped at Red’s, a small-town gas station that served food and was a hub of activity in town, to grab a sandwich. While I was eating, an old high school friend stopped in with her daughters and invited me over to spend the afternoon with them. I thanked God for the rescue. I found out later that being Pierz, everyone already knew about the assault, and the owner of Red’s had called someone who knew me when she saw me eating in the booth alone. My good fortune was more small-town kindness than coincidence.

  4:45 P.M.

  PIERZ

  IT HAD BEGUN SNOWING in earnest, and I needed to decide where I was going to spend the night. To my relief, Jon was finally finished, so I agreed to meet him at his parents’ house. Bill and Camille had taken Victor for a follow-up psychiatric appointment in St. Cloud and had yet to return, so I would have a little time to acclimate myself to the environment before I faced them.

  When I arrived, Jon hugged me and then leaned back against the cupboard in his untucked button-down shirt and blue jeans. Camille had baked bread, and the heavenly scent permeated the air. I studied Jon’s lean, muscular frame before focusing on his blue eyes. I set my overnight bag down, and he handed me a warm slice of buttered bread. He had warmed a dipping sauce made from homegrown tomatoes, peppers, and onions that his mother had canned. For the moment, I felt completely safe and at peace as we feasted on our comfort food and shared our day’s events.

  After over an hour of laughing about stories of growing up naïve Catholics in Pierz, Jon stood up with an obvious purpose. He pulled me close for a long, heart-warming kiss. He smiled as he slowly pulled away. “I’m going to shovel a path so my parents won’t have to trudge through the snow,” he said. He went to the entryway and pulled on a parka and gloves. There were already six inches of snow on the ground. He opened the door, waved, and said, “Nivatus!”

  I smiled at the familiar word, remembering how his mom would use it when she’d occasionally threaten to lock Bill out of the house on winter days for being grumpy. Nivatus is a Latin word that means “cooled by snow.” I didn’t know anyone other than old Catholics who used it.

  THE PHONE STARTED RINGING, creating an unwanted and eerie reminder of my assault. I hesitated, but then decided I should answer in case Bill and Camille had an accident trying to drive home in the storm. Bill Frederick was surprised to hear me answer, and his initial response was rather cold. He reported, “We’re finally going to leave St. Cloud.”

  I forgot for a moment that I still needed to deal with Jon’s parents. Feeling very humble, I decided to just put it out there. “Bill, listen. I’m so sorry for wearing that wire and bringing you so much grief. I have the greatest respect for you and Camille. I was just doing what I was told by the investigators. I wish I would have stopped and thought about it. It all happened so fast.”

  Bill grunted, “Camille’s still a little upset. But I pointed out to her that I’d be disappointed if our daughter didn’t handle the situation in a similar manner. You cooperated with the authorities.”

  As long as he was being forgiving, I added, “I was hoping to stay over tonight, if it’s okay. I can sleep on the couch. But if you’d rather I leave before you get home, I can get a room at the hotel in town. The last thing I want to do is cause more distress for you and Camille.”

  Bill laughed, “The Hillbilly Haven?” He said, “No. I’d rather you stayed with Jon. When I see Jon with you, it’s a pleasant reminder that there is someone normal in our family.”

  I smiled at his unspoken reference to Victor, and to his ongoing concerns about Jon’s older sister. Theresa had left home and married young, but it had taken some time for her and her husband to let go of youthful indiscretions.

  Bill paused, then said, “You know, Camille would prefer we stayed in St. Cloud, and I’m thinking that with this storm, it might be wise. They’re talking about over a foot of snow in this part of the state.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed, then was embarrassed I had said it out loud. I wanted to say, “That’s not what I meant!” but it was.

  Bill’s voice was gruff. “I honestly don’t care where you sleep. Just don’t make it obvious tomorrow.”

  Good old Bill. I said with relief, “Take care, Bill, and travel safely tomorrow.”

  WHEN JON CAME BACK INSIDE, his cheeks were red and he was out of breath. After putting away his winter wear, he approached me in the kitchen.

  I put my hands on his cold cheeks and kissed him hard. He picked me up, and I was in such good spirits that I was ready to go with him wherever he wanted to take me. I thought he was going to carry me upstairs, but he carried me toward the door.

  “What are you doing?” I said, realizing we had different intentions.

  “I was going to toss you in the snow—manja.” He quickly retreated. “Maybe it’s a bad idea. I wasn’t thinking about everything you’ve been through.”

  I grabbed his face in my hands and made him look directly into my eyes as I told him, “Hey, I’m not going to live my life as a vi
ctim.”

  He kicked open the door, and snowflakes fell on us. I taunted him, saying, “I dare you . . .” My face was quickly spattered with snow as he carried me out the door and into the blizzard. I still didn’t believe he’d actually throw me in a snow bank, but he did, sort of. Instead of tossing me, he carefully set me down into a three-foot-high mound of snow. I quickly sank into a frozen bath. I felt the snow trickling into my shirt and sliding into the back of my jeans. Both laughing and surprised, I pulled Jon down and I rolled over on top of him in the snow. I threw snow in his face and quickly escaped back into the house. I locked him out and made him say the magic word before I let him back in.

  After offering “abracadabra” and “freeze,” he finally said, “Please.” Grinning like a little kid, Jon came traipsing inside.

  The snow had managed to seep into everything—my shirt, jeans, socks—everything. I began peeling away my snow-covered clothes, right there in the kitchen.

  Jon glanced in the direction of the driveway, checking for his parents. Wide-eyed, he asked, “What are you doing?”

  I was now down to my underwear and trying for seductive as I peeled away the final layer—as seductive as a girl can be covered in rapidly melting snow. Between bursts of shivers that probably resembled mild seizures, I teased, “You’re always telling me how bad you want me. If you want me that bad, let’s make love right here, right now.” I nonchalantly leaned on the kitchen table and patted the top of it. “Right here.” Another chill shot through my shoulders, but I held his gaze.

  It only took him seconds before he said in a rush, “Okay!” He yanked his shirt off.

  I stopped him short. “Jon, I was just kidding! Geez, for all you know, your parents could be walking in the door any minute— which they aren’t, by the way. They called while you were out shoveling.” I was laughing in earnest at this point, and stepped in to wrap my arms around his bare waist. “I wouldn’t have stripped if I thought there was any chance they’d be walking through the door. I stripped because I thought it would be better if I didn’t track snow all over their house.” I gave him a quick kiss, then pulled back. “And for God’s sake, the kitchen table? I would think of it every time I ate dinner with your parents.”

  Jon quipped, “Once you’ve tasted how dry my mom’s Thanksgiving turkey gets, you might welcome the distraction. Turkey jerky.”

  I reached up and ran my nails slowly from his shoulders down his back, and lowered my voice. “As soon as I get my clothes in the dryer, I’m running upstairs and sliding under your blankets. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

  His eyes lost focus for a second. “I’ll start the fireplace in the living room, and be right up to warm you up.”

  HIS SKIN WAS PLEASANTLY WARM from the fireplace when he joined me. The heat from his body was gratifying, and for a time, all thoughts of murder and assault were forgotten. I eventually drifted off to sleep in Jon’s arms.

  WHEN I AWOKE, the room was dark. Jon’s warm body next to mine was comforting, but it took me a moment to remember where I was. The only light in the room was moonlight, filtered by the falling snow through a partially opened curtain. My overnight bag was on the floor, but I decided to go with one of his t-shirts. After I pulled the t-shirt over my head, I found myself facing a painting of Jesus. A metal plate below it, which glimmered in the moonlight, read, “Bert Faust Electric.” Bert Faust was a stoic, portly, local German electrician, who had quietly worked in the area for decades. I turned back to Jon, who had been watching me dress.

  Jon said, “I’ve always thought highly of Bert Faust’s work.”

  As I lifted the painting, I couldn’t contain my laughter. Camille had hung the picture of Jesus over the breaker box in the room, but it didn’t quite cover it, leaving Bert’s insignia on the bottom.

  Jon and I made our way downstairs to the living room. The crackling fire he’d made cast shadows dancing eerily across the wall, but I felt safe in Jon’s arms. He had laid out a number of blankets in front of the fireplace to give us extra cushion on top of the carpeted floor. Jon disappeared into the kitchen, and soon returned with a large bowl of popcorn and two mugs of hot chocolate.

  He looked at me sadly and said, “I need you to leave, Serena.”

  My heart sank. “What? Why?”

  “Not now, but by tomorrow night.” There was so much regret in his eyes as he gazed into mine. “Because I can’t solve this and protect you at the same time.” We sat in front of the fireplace, and he pulled me close. “Someone’s trying to hurt us. And if Tony finds you, he’s going to interrogate you, and that’s not going to help you right now. I need to get you out of here, so I can rattle cages until I shake something loose.”

  This was scary. Jon was the one who typically calmed me down. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. His warmth felt so comforting. I said, “You don’t think it was Clay, do you?”

  “Clay doesn’t have a cut on his head, and I’m convinced he didn’t kill Mandy.”

  I whispered, “Let me help. I need to help.”

  Jon gazed into my eyes. “You could be a great help by talking to Ray Benson. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced Say Hey Ray knows who killed Mandy. She called someone to pick her up that night. It probably wasn’t the first time she needed a ride when Ray and her mom weren’t available. Ray would know who Mandy would call. Since you’re already on his visitor’s list at the prison, this could be our best move. I hate sending you off to do this alone,” he finished as his fingertips grazed my cheek.

  I tried to muster some confidence as I told him, “Jon, I planned on doing this anyway. I had kind of hoped I wouldn’t need to, but of course I’ll go.”

  Jon slumped sadly. “You know you can refuse. You’ve been through a lot, and I honestly don’t know what’s best for you. It’s better for me to keep working this, but I don’t know if that’s right for you.”

  I didn’t want to go to Florida alone, but I had to get us out of this mess. I told him, “I’ll go and see Say Hey Ray. What are you going to do when I’m gone?”

  “I’m going back to where I was shot. I need to find out if being at that location was a factor in the shooting,” Jon said. “And I’m going to find Vicki Ament. Vicki convinced me she knew with certainty that Jeff Lemor was innocent, yet she lied about being his alibi. I think I haven’t given enough attention to the fact that this is rural Minnesota, and everyone involved in these cases seems to know each other. I also need to talk to my dad about people who might have been angry about his bankruptcy. Alban Brennan made an odd comment to me, that someone may have hurt Brittany over a debt.”

  I had become mesmerized by the fire, but this surprised me out of my reverie. “Be extra careful, Jon.” I paused. “Alban. That’s kind of an unusual name,” I mused. “Any idea what it means?”

  Jon shook his head.

  I picked up a mug of hot chocolate, which was now cool enough for me to take a large swallow. It was rich and comforting. The whipped cream gave my lips a sweet coating, and I kissed Jon to share it with him. I put my mug back down and stretched out on the blanket, facing the fireplace.

  I could feel his loving eyes on me as he smiled and whispered, “You’re beautiful. I’m sorry for not talking to you more. The mistake I made was thinking our relationship is much more fragile than it is. I’ve always been afraid that if I said something wrong, I’d never be able to repair it.”

  I turned on my back and looked up at him. “I can handle it. We’re better together.” I pulled him on top of me and caressed him.

  His warm body brushed against mine, and he lightly kissed my cheek, as if admiring a precious gift. I found his tone comforting when assured me, “We’re snowed in, just the two of us, in front of a nice, warm fireplace. Thirteen inches of snow tonight has everyone grounded. You can’t even see this house from fifty feet away. The two of us are our entire world, tonight. No one else, nothing else, matters . . .”

  Chapter

  Thirty
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br />   JON FREDERICK

  10:00 A.M.

  THURSDAY, APRIL 17

  PIERZ

  WHEN MY PARENTS finally returned home with Victor, Serena and my mom disappeared into the living room and had a long talk. They seemed to be in a better place, and ultimately, Serena and Mom packed up some homemade bread and jam and left to go on some “Christian mission.” Dad, Victor, and I were left home. Victor had moments where I could converse with him, but was still lost in another dimension most of the time. He finally retreated to his room, instructing us to leave him alone.

  I sat down with Dad at the kitchen table and asked him if there was anyone who may have been especially upset about debts he owed. He rested both elbows on the table as he told me, “Years ago, I went to everyone I couldn’t pay back and apologized. They weren’t happy, but they understood. Half the farmers in Pierz lost their farms. You couldn’t get a small-farm loan, unless you took a big chance. The problem with going big is that I was still just one person, with one son who wanted to go to college in Minneapolis, and another son who was a liability.” Dad looked out the window, trying to think of a way to soften what he had just said about his mentally ill son. “I don’t blame Victor. His battle is worse than ours. I was constantly worried about him getting hurt.”

  “Still, someone could have been angry.”

  Bill explained, “They pitied me. I’d rather be hated. Camille said even if we didn’t have any money, we were going to volunteer to help others every time the opportunity presented itself, because we still knew how to work. So, that’s what we do. And somehow, during this time, Victor became more manageable. It was a much appreciated gift of grace.” He hung his head and solemnly added, “One I never deserved.”

  DAD SWORE UNDER HIS BREATH when he saw Tony pull into the driveway. Dad was wise enough to leave me alone to deal with him.