by Midge Bubany
Razor blades and nails. “Cheese and whatever else you want to toss in.”
“Okay. Cal, since this is the last week before school starts, I thought I’d take the boys to a different place every day: the big playground at the park, the county museums, the movies, the library . . . that kind of thing.”
“Sure.”
“Shannon says I should trade cars with her, but said we should run it by you first.”
“I can take your car . . . she can drive my truck.”
I pulled some bills out of my wallet and handed them to her.
Shannon walked into the kitchen fully dressed in her uniform and picked up the newspaper.
“I thought you didn’t have to work,” I said.
“No, I told you I did.”
Shannon studied the photo of the fire—then looked at me, hurt written all over her face. “Ah, Sheehan.”
She threw the paper down, grabbed her purse and car keys and started walking out. “Brit wants your car today,” I said.
She fired the keys at me, hitting me in the chest. She grabbed my truck keys off the rack and left without another word. My chest stung where the keys hit.
Brit stood with her mouth open. I shrugged and took a sip of coffee.
When I got to work, the newspaper photo was taped to the bulletin board in the squad room. I took it off and threw it in the trash. Damn it. Deputies filed in for the squad meeting talking about the fire, a car crash outside of town handled by the state troopers, a shoplifter. Not the photo, thankfully.
After Patrice walked in and started the squad meeting, Shannon slipped just inside the door. She wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and I kept checking.
“You’ve probably heard about the fire at Adriana Valero’s home last night. According to Chief Holmgren it’s a total loss and highly likely arson. Victoria Lewis is person of interest in this case, along with the other incidents on Ms. Valero’s property. We emailed her photo to several jurisdictions in the state.”
She held up a blow-up of her driver’s license photo.
“She may be blonde now,” I said.
“If you see her, bring her in. Troy’s already out at Ms. Valero’s with Chief Lucky Holmgren and some arson specialists from the BCA.”
Shannon ducked out as soon as she sensed Patrice was wrapping up.
As soon as I got back to my desk I texted her: “I love only you.”
I waited for a minute, but got nothing in return.
I texted “XXXOOO” and added three of those pink hearts. She had to know I was groveling using hearts and shit, but still no response. She is so pissed.
I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to get my head back to the Dawson case. Laurel Wolfson finally answered my call. She said they were on their way back from a camping trip. We would meet at her place about three.
I drove out to Lake Emmaline to see how the investigation was going. When I pulled in, Mac Simmons from the Prairie Falls Times came around from the corner of the BCA mobile lab van, camera in hand, followed by Julia Hayes from WCCO television.
He asked her to show me the film she took from the chopper last night.
“Dramatic,” I said.
“Do you have anything for us about the fire?” she asked.
“Not a thing. Just got here. I haven’t even talked to the BCA investigators.”
“They say it’s arson,” Mac said.
“Yeah?”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, then got in his car and left. He was a cool enough guy, but he wanted the scoop like anyone reporter would. Julia stuck around. There would be more reporters rolling in this morning.
Troy was standing on the sidelines watching two individuals dressed in coveralls and masks sifting through the debris.
“Know anything yet?” I asked.
Troy whistled to the two investigators. They walked over and took off their masks and gloves to shake hands with me. Troy introduced Sophia Bettendorf and Rick Eberly, both of whom looked to be somewhere north of forty. Sophia had light brown hair pulled into a ponytail that stuck out the back of her cap, and Rick had brown hair trimmed short, typical for us law enforcement types.
Rick said, “It appears the exterior of the residence and deck were saturated with an accelerant, most likely gasoline. Also, the patio door window on the lower level was broken and it’s likely gasoline was also tossed around in there. We still have to run tests in the lab. Won’t take much for a house to burst into flames with that kind of effort.”
Troy said, “I asked Tamika to check with local gas stations, to see if anyone filled gas cans recently. Also, to look in dumpsters for gas cans, clothing, that sort of thing.”
“I think Tamika may feel overloaded with tasks right now. I’ve given her some work on the Dawson case.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.”
“I’m talking to Laurel Wolfson this afternoon. Now, I’m going back in to see what else I can take back from Tamika or give to Crosby.”
“I’ll be here all day,” Troy said. “Did you and Shannon see today’s Register?”
“Yep.”
“What did she say about the photo?”
Before I had a chance to respond to a question I didn’t want to answer, my phone rang. It was Austin Spanney.
“Spanky, what’s up?”
“We need to talk,” he said.
“What about?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you.”
“I’ll be back in my office in ten.”
Spanky was alone and pacing in the squad room. When he saw me, he pulled a photo out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was of a blonde and him.
“That’s Sadie Jones and me. I think she looks like her,” he said, pointing to the bulletin board. Victoria’s photo had been pinned where the newspaper photo had been. I took the photo from him and held it up next to Victoria’s.
“I see what you mean. Close, really close, but Sadie has a wider nose and a bigger chin than Victoria,” I said.
“But when she came into my apartment last night she smelled like gasoline. I told her so and she said she had just filled up her car. So I just accepted that, you know? Then last night when I threw my garbage in the dumpster, I saw paint cans . . . silver paint. This morning I started putting things together: the fire, the car ruined by silver paint, the kid who bought fabric for a blonde woman. It all fits. Oh, man, I’m sorry I didn’t figure this out sooner.”
“You think this Sadie is Victoria?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Well, let’s bring her in.”
“Can’t. She left early this morning. She has a flight to New York tomorrow. She works for Ralph Lauren.”
“Do you know where she lives?”
“Downtown Minneapolis in a condo.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Sure.”
“The first thing we need to do is stop her before she takes off.”
“How?”
“We call Minneapolis PD. Give me the address.”
An hour later, I called Patrice and filled her in on what I knew.
“Officer Kim Werzer with MPD found Sadie Jones home at her condo. She denies even knowing Austin Spanney. I think someone should go down today to check it out. Ms. Jones is leaving for New York tomorrow morning.”
“Although technically it’s Tamika’s case, I think you should go and take Spanney with you to identify the woman,” Patrice said.
“I’d have to cancel an interview for this afternoon for the Dawson case.”
“Reschedule. I don’t like arson in my county, either.”
I left a message for Laurel, then tried to reach Shannon. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer my call.
My
message: “Hi, babe, I’ve got to go to Minneapolis today. We’re questioning someone in the arson case. Hopefully, I’ll be home by dinner. We need to talk. You’re my only love.”
She immediately answered with a text: “Photos don’t lie. Asshole.”
Now I was pissed.
On the drive down I asked Spanky how he met Sadie.
“Well, I was sitting out on County 31 checking for speeders when she drove right by me going twelve miles over. So, I stopped her. She handed me what must have been Sadie’s license and said she thought the limit was sixty-five. I ran it and she came back clean so I just gave her a verbal warning. She told me she’d buy me coffee at my break time.”
“That’s her MO,” I said.
“I should have known she’d never go for me.”
“What are you talking about? You are her type—a big cop. When was this?”
“A couple months ago.”
“And you’ve been seeing her ever since?”
“Yeah, when she’s around.”
Spanky directed me to the underground guest parking area of Sadie’s high-rise condo unit on First Street. We had to check in with the desk clerk, who seemed to recognize Austin. He called to let Ms. Jones know we were there. After taking the elevator to the ninth floor, we turned right down a long corridor to 9032. A blonde, slender woman who was Victoria’s doppelganger opened the door. She looked very concerned.
We showed our badges and thinking I didn’t need to introduce Spanky, I only introduced myself.
“It’s not her,” Spanky said.
“Of course it’s me,” she said.
“No, I mean you’re not my girlfriend.”
“I don’t even know you,” she said.
“Are you Sadie Jones?” I asked. She sure looked like the DMV photo.
“Yes, come in,” she said.
We stepped inside the chic apartment decorated in black and white with splashes of color in pillows and the modern paintings.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” I said.
“No problem. I need to know what’s going on.”
“May I see your ID?”
She went to a table, pulled out a wallet, and handed me her driver’s license.
I set my computer on her black granite countertop to verify her license. It matched.
“Okay. I believe someone may have stolen your identity,” I said.
“Well, I did lose my driver’s license a few months ago.”
She directed us to a seating area near the sliding glass doors to her balcony. She had a magnificent view of the Mississippi River and St. Anthony Falls. We sat on the white leather sofa, and she took the leopard print chair.
“Beautiful place,” I said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m not quite sure what’s going on here,” she said.
“Have you noticed anything peculiar with your credit cards?”
“No, should I have?
“Do you know Victoria Lewis?”
“Sure. She’s my roommate. This is her condo.”
I looked at Spanky. “And there it is.”
“You really look alike.” I said.
“We get that all the time. We used to pretend we were sisters in college.”
“How long have you known her?” I asked.
“We’ve been roommates since our freshman year in college.”
“So this is Victoria’s condo?”
“Yes, it was a graduation present from her dad. We both travel a lot with our jobs, so it works out well.”
“Who’s her current employer?”
“She’s always worked for one of her dad’s companies in one capacity or another—that is, when she works. Sometimes she escapes to Paris.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, if she has trouble with a job or a lover, which seems to happen frequently—never her fault—she blows the scene.”
“So it’s a pattern.”
“You could say that.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Gee, a couple months, maybe. What’s she done this time?”
“Victoria lived in Prairie Falls for a short time last fall, then suddenly left. We wanted to talk to her in connection with some threats she was receiving.”
“Really? She didn’t tell me she was being threatened.”
“We have reason to believe she was behind them herself. So she’s in a bit of trouble with the law for that.”
Sadie laughed. “That wouldn’t surprise me.”
“But now we think she’s back, pretending she’s you, sneaking around, and creating havoc for her ex-stepmother.”
“Would that be Marcy or Adriana?”
“Adriana.”
“Oh, she hates her big time.”
“She’s been dating Deputy Spanney for a couple months as Sadie Jones. Show her the photo, Austin,” I said.
He took out the photo and handed it to her.
“That’s Victoria,” she said.
“You know her as a blonde?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s always changing her hair color.”
“So, you’re flying to New York tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m a regional sales rep for Ralph Lauren.”
“That’s what she told me she did,” Austin said.
“No, no.” She shook her head. “This is so upsetting she’s impersonating me. I should have known better than to trust her. She always prided herself on pulling stuff over on people, guys especially—then she’d have a good laugh because they’re so gullible. When I was younger, I used to think it was funny, but enough’s enough, especially when she involves me. You know?”
“Do you have Victoria’s current phone number?”
She pulled out her phone and pulled up her contact list. She showed us the number she had for Victoria. I checked my notebook and found it was the same number she’d closed months ago.
“When was the last time you spoke to her?” I asked.
“Two days ago. She asked me when I was traveling next and for how long. Come to think of it, she always asks about my schedule.”
“I suppose that’s when she has me come down,” Austin said.
I gave him a nod.
“Might you still have that number on recent calls?”
“I think so.” She took her phone and scrolled then handed me the phone. It was a 218 area code. I said the number aloud.
“Oh, man, that’s my number, ” Austin said.
“Do you have her father’s home number?”
“It’s in my address book. We spend time at his home on Lake Minnetonka all the time in the summer.”
“Do they have employees who might answer the phone?” I asked.
“Louisa’s the live-in housekeeper and cook.”
“Would you call and ask for Victoria? See if she’s there. Make up some reason to meet her here. If she’s not there, ask Louisa if she knows where you can reach her. Don’t give her any other information.”
“Okay.”
She dialed and spoke to someone, following my suggestions, then hung up.
“She doesn’t know where she is but will tell her I called.”
“Austin, what number do you have for her?”
He pulled out his phone and showed me his recent calls.
“Didn’t you notice it was an undisclosed number?” I said.
Austin sat back. “I am such a jerk.”
Sadie patted his knee. “You’re not the only man who’s been manipulated by Victoria. She’s super good at it.”
“Would you let us know if she returns before you leave tomorrow?” I asked.
“Of course. Listen, I’m
really upset she’s involved me. Is there any way you could stay here and wait for her here? Like a stakeout? I want her stopped.”
“I could stay,” Austin said.
She smiled at him.
“I’d have to check with our boss,” I said. “See if she thinks it’s worth the manpower to leave someone here. Meanwhile, you may want to check your credit to see if she’s using your name in other ways.”
Patrice gave the okay to leave Spanky in the condo for forty-eight hours. We drove across the Hennepin Avenue Bridge to the Lunds on University to buy him a toothbrush and some food for a couple days. Then I arranged to pick up a rental car for me to drive back to Prairie Falls.
On the way, I said, “Spanky, you’re pretty quiet.”
“I need to get some underwear, too.”
“Ah.”
“And I was thinking about what a fool I am.”
“Hey, I was also duped by Victoria. She used me to get a story. Don’t you remember all that?”
“I never met her.”
Her photo had been in the paper but he didn’t need me to rub it in.
“I think the real Sadie likes you. You could always call her when this is over.”
“Think so?”
“What have you got to lose?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Man, I can’t believe Victoria’s the one who burned down Adriana’s house.”
“And ruined her car. Your testimony will be important.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah, we need to bring her down before she leaves the country again.”
I dropped him off with the hope Victoria would show up tomorrow after the real Sadie left. It would be sweet for him to make the arrest. Then I quickly called Laurel Wolfson saying the interview was back on. All the way home, I practiced what I was going to say to Shannon when I got home. It was so damn stupid to have put my hands on Adriana’s face.
By four o’clock in the afternoon, I had dropped off the rental and parked Brittany’s 2006 Civic next to the Wolfsons’s Rabbit. Laurel offered me a cup of coffee, and I accepted. I’d forgotten to eat lunch. The two boys draped over furniture watching cartoons paid no attention to us.