Stabenow, Dana - Shugak 11 - The Singing Of The Dead

by The Singing Of The Dead(lit)

  "I don't know," Kate said. She sensed Darlene stir in back of her, and

  repeated, "I don't know. I don't think so, and that's not just a gut

  instinct. I've got reasons. I'm going to talk to the rest of your people

  right now." She exchanged a long, unsmiling look with Kenny. "For the

  moment, why don't you try to get some sleep? We'll be going up and down

  the hall for a while, see if we can find out if anyone in the building

  saw something."

  Anne's eyes went past Kate to Kenny Hazen. "Hello, Chief Hazen."

  "Hello, Ms. Gordaoff."

  "Mrs.," came a voice from beneath the covers of the second bed. "It's

  Mrs. Gordaoff."

  "Mrs. Gordaoff," Kenny corrected himself without a blink.

  "Please, call me Anne." She gave him a wan smile. "I expect Kate rousted

  you out of bed to come down here. I'm sorry about that."

  Kenny shook his head. "That's my job, Anne."

  Doug condescended to roll over and confirm that he'd dropped off a

  speech at Darlene's room at a little after eleven, that he hadn't been

  gone more than five minutes, and that he hadn't seen anyone in the

  hallway except Kate. Anne listened without expression.

  The next room belonged to the son, Tom, who either wasn't answering the

  door or wasn't home. Kenny stepped up with a passkey. "I stopped at the

  front desk on the way in," he said in answer to Kate's look.

  A nylon duffel bag sat open on one bed, clothes were scattered

  everywhere but the closet, CDs spilled out of a case, nearly burying a

  portable CD player with earphones. A laptop computer was open on the

  desk, not running. A bottle of shampoo, three different kinds of

  designer hair

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  mousse, dental floss, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a box of Trojans sat

  on the dresser. Towels sat in a damp heap on the floor.

  "Hey, what the hell?"

  They turned and saw Tom standing in the doorway.

  "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

  He was lean like his father and moved like a basketball player, putting

  his feet down lightly in anticipation of a mid period shift of defense

  from zone to man-to-man.

  "Where have you been?" Kate said.

  "None of your goddamn business," Tom said, unintimidated by the

  uniformed police officer looming at her back. "I asked you what the hell

  are you doing in my room?"

  He had a point. Kate explained. "I don't know anything about that," he

  said, when they showed him the most recent letter. "No, I didn't see

  anyone. All I did was shower and change after we got in from that dumb

  dinner Mom made us all go to. Me and a friend closed down the bar. Now,

  if you'll excuse me, I've got a date." He reached past Kate and picked

  up the box of Trojans. He grinned down at her, thirteen years her junior

  and at least a foot taller. Everybody was always a foot taller than her,

  and she found it irritating in the extreme. "Forgot these." He left.

  "Well, now, he's real worried about the possible danger to his mother,"

  Kenny said.

  Darlene said nothing.

  Tracy Huffman's room was empty. They went in with the passkey, found

  clothes hung in the closet, toiletries on the dresser, a briefcase

  jammed with schedules and flyers and posters, and a Day Timer in which

  every single day forward until November 7th had two or more entries. It

  made Kate tired just to look at it. "What do you know about this one?"

  Kenny said.

  Aware of Darlene listening, Kate said, "She was at UAF with Darlene and me."

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  "She's probably in the sack with some guy," Darlene said.

  Kenny cocked an eyebrow at Kate. Kate shrugged. "She, ah, does make

  friends fast."

  "And you never introduced us. I may never forgive you."

  The next door down opened before they knocked. "What's going on?" Erin

  stood there, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

  "I'm glad you're awake, Erin," Kate said, stepping forward so as to

  crowd the younger woman backward. "We need to talk to you."

  Erin saw Kenny and her eyes widened. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong."

  The young woman's-face lit up and for a moment she looked almost pretty.

  "Did you catch who killed Jeff? Is that it?"

  "No, Ms. Gordaoff," Kenny said, his voice gentle. "We haven't caught the

  person who killed your fiance yet. We just need to talk to you for a few

  minutes."

  Erin's face crumpled. Kate hoped she wouldn't cry, and she didn't.

  "Can't it wait until morning?" Her voice, a high- pitched, sulky whine,

  was beginning to get on Kate's nerves.

  "Can we come in, please?"

  Erin gave way before her advance. "I suppose so. The dog can't come in,

  I'm allergic."

  "Stay," Kate said, and Mutt made a face, sniffed suspiciously at the

  carpet outside the door, and sat down with her tail in a fastidious curl

  around her legs.

  Erin sat primly on the edge of the one made-up bed. Kate showed her the

  letter. Erin's eyes widened. No, she hadn't seen anyone loitering

  outside Anne's room, or in the hallway of the trailer, or in the parking

  lot, or to and from the Ahtna high school gym. No, she had no idea who

  might be writing the letters. She couldn't imagine anyone doing

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  anything so sick. Of course, now that she knew this crazy person was

  following Anne around, she would watch for anyone who looked suspicious.

  She was sorry she wasn't able to help this time. It was important to get

  her mother elected to office, but it was even more important to keep her

  safe. Erin understood that perfectly well.

  They stood in the hallway, waiting for Erin's door to close. When it

  did, Kenny said softly, "Why didn't she just put in a tape?"

  As they stood there, the three of them became aware of sounds coming

  from a room down the hall, a thumping of headboard against wall, at

  first gentle, then vigorous, then just plain loud. After a few moments

  it was accompanied by cries, female, and grunts, male. Everything got

  louder and speeded up.

  "Let's get out of here," Kate said. They retreated down the hall and

  were about to go into Kate's room when Tracy appeared, a dreamy look in

  her eye and whisker burns on her face. The dreamy look vanished when

  they told her about the new letter, and she readily gave the name of the

  man she had spent the past few hours with. He was someone Kenny knew

  when she described him, which was fortunate, because Tracy didn't know

  either his last name or his phone number.

  "Man, I'm beat," Tracy said, yawning. "Okay if I hit the sack?" Without

  waiting for a reply she winked at Kate and vanished into her room.

  "I guess it's okay," Kate said. She turned to Darlene. "Who's next?"

  "That's it."

  "No, it isn't. What about you?"

  "Me?"

  "Yeah, where were you this evening?" Kate had to hold back a grin when

  Darlene's mouth fell open.

  "Why, I was-I didn't-what do you mean, where was I? I was right here in

  my room, just like-" She halted.

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  "Just like everybody else," Kate finished for her, "one door away from

  where a ransom note was
delivered to Anne Gordaoff."

  A thundercloud descended over Darlene's face. "I- you-what are you-do

  you really think that I've worked this hard to get Anne elected that-"

  "I'm merely saying that you had as much opportunity as anyone else to

  slip the letter under her door."

  "I was in my room," Darlene snapped, "until Anne came to tell me about

  the letter."

  "Okay," Kate said.

  They knocked on the rest of the doors, and got a lot of bad-tempered

  people out of bed to no purpose that Kate could see. "Well, that was a

  big help," she said to Kenny as the last door slammed in their faces.

  "We had to check," Kenny said. "Getting the door slammed in our face

  comes with the territory. I say we pack it in for now."

  But Kate remembered someone else they had to talk to. "What about the

  researcher you were talking about?" she said to Darlene. "She's working

  on the campaign, where is she?"

  "She's got her own place," Darlene said. "I told you, she doesn't stay

  at the hotel."

  "You know where she lives?"

  "Yeah. I had to find it when I wanted to hire her."

  Kate looked at Kenny. "In the morning," he said.

  "We're up," she said.

  "In the morning," he repeated. "It's at least got to be light out. I'll

  be back around nine; we'll drive out in my rig. You'll go with us," he

  told Darlene.

  "Oh, but I can't," she said, "Anne's got a breakfast with the local

  Guns-and-Ammo group, I have to..."

  Her voice trailed away beneath Kenny's steady stare. Cops have their

  uses, Kate thought.

  "I guess I could take an hour," Darlene said.

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  "Good," Kenny said. "See you both in the parking lot at nine."

  Darlene vanished into her room with a flounce.

  Kate, groggy now with fatigue, fumbled with the key to her door. It

  opened at last, but she stood for a moment on the threshold, glancing

  down the hall.

  The sheet-beating they had heard earlier had been coming from Anne and

  Doug's room, she was almost sure of it. Darlene hadn't so much as turned

  a hair that fresh out of his lover's bed, he was giving it to his wife.

  Kate had to give him points for stamina, but if she'd been his wife, she

  would have been more careful. Who knew where that penis had been?

  The covers were up to her chin when she thought, And why did Doug feel

  it so necessary to mark his territory so publicly?

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  Kenny Hazen didn't show up until ten. He had Jim Chopin with him. Kate

  bristled, but Darlene walked around her and got in Kenny's pristine

  white Suburban with the discreet gold shield on the side. Jim looked at

  Kate with a raised eyebrow, and she motioned Mutt into the back, and got

  in behind Kenny.

  "Good morning, everyone," Kenny said, sounding as cheerful as the

  recreational director on a cruise ship, and they were off.

  Darlene's researcher lived five miles out of town in a little Airstream

  trailer that gleamed like a silver hot dog- shaped UFO. The trailer was

  parked by itself on a riverside acre of ground overgrown with white

  spruce and birch and alder and cottonwood and diamond willow and

  salmonberry and raspberry and blueberry bushes and pretty much any plant

  that produced leaves at that latitude. It looked as if the only thing

  that was holding it up out of the water rushing past was sheer force of

  will. A wooden rack of fifty- five gallon drums, much like the one in

  back of Kate's cabin, leaned against the wall near the door. A picnic

  table stood between the trailer and the river, in the only clear space

  in the tangled undergrowth other than the trail in. A wire leading from

  a pole on the road indicated that the trailer had electricity, but there

  were no lights on inside.

  "Paula?" Darlene said, knocking.

  There was no answer. Darlene knocked again, more

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  firmly this time. The door's loose latch gave and it swung open. Mutt's

  ears went back about the same time it hit Kate's nose.

  "What's that smell?" Darlene said, peering inside. "Paula?"

  Kate pushed her back with no apology.

  "Hey," Darlene started to say, sounding indignant, and then Kate was no

  longer there. Instead, Kenny said from behind her, "Don't touch the wall

  switch."

  Kate found it and elbowed it on. For some reason the light made the

  smell stronger.

  "Miss Pawlowski?" Kenny said, sidearm out, sliding inside with his back

  to the door. Jim was right behind him, also with his sidearm out. "Paula

  Pawlowski?"

  "Kate, what's going on?"

  "Wait out here, Darlene," Kate said, trying unsuccessfully to see around

  the not inconsiderable bulk of two Alaskan law enforcement officers. She

  heard the sound of a footstep squishing into a wet carpet.

  "Goddamn it," Kenny said.

  "Oh hell," Jim said.

  Kate wormed her way past him to see.

  "Kate? What's going on?" Darlene shoved in next to Kate. "Oh my god.

  Paula. Paula? Paula!"

  In the awkward sprawl of the dead lay the woman with whom Kate had

  shared her dinner table at the Ahtna Lodge restaurant the night before.

  "I got the body off to the ME in Anchorage on the noon plane," Kenny

  said, settling himself in his chair. "It's getting to be a habit."

  It was about one o'clock. Anne and her entourage had been questioned,

  had denied seeing Paula the night before, except for Darlene, who said

  she had spent half an hour with the researcher before going to the VFW

  dinner with Anne and Co. None of them knew Paula other than

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  professionally, and as she had spent most of her time working for them

  in one library or another around the state, even Anne had difficulty

  remembering what she looked like. No, they couldn't say if she had any

  enemies. No, they hadn't seen anyone suspicious lurking around. Hadn't

  they all been asked that question before? they wanted to know. Like

  about six hours before? In the middle of the friggin' night?

  It wasn't long before Kenny ran out of questions to ask them, and

  Darlene was quick to pounce on the opportunity. Was that all? she wanted

  to know, and when Kenny said that was all, she shepherded everyone to

  Anne's next appearance, a performance of The Mikado by the Ahtna Junior

  High Dramatic Society.

  Kate stayed with Kenny and Jim. Also, as Darlene pointed out, the

  campaign had lost its researcher, and she wanted Kate to get hold of

  Paula's notes and laptop, always assuming Kenny could be convinced to

  give them up, something Kate pointed out to Darlene and something

  Darlene of course blew off. "At least get him to let you take a look at

  them," she said, her voice impatient. "Do I have to do everything?"

  "Whoever it was got close enough for her to grab the gun," Kenny said

  now, looking at Jim, "or it looks like it from the tears on the palms of

  her hands. Be a while before we get results from ballistics, but it