Sins of the Past

by Dee Henderson

  Doc Graham nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Libby stepped out into the cool, pale sunshine barely breaking through the clouds, her head spinning.

  Kat had been murdered. At least they knew that truth. They still needed to find the person or persons responsible.

  “What will you do now?” she asked Jim.

  “Start with questioning her coaches and the other competitors.”

  “I highly doubt you’ll get anything out of the Russians, but the other competitors maybe . . . It’s possible. If I go with you, you’d probably get a warmer reception.”

  Jim frowned. “Why’s that?”

  “Just as the locals asked if the body belonged to one of theirs. Swimmers are still a community, even if we are competitors. I’m one of them. You’re an outsider.”

  Jim looked at Ben, who agreed with a tilt of his head, and then back to Libby. “If you think it’ll help, I’m willing to give it a try.”

  “I’m coming too,” Ben said.

  “Look, I appreciate all you’ve done, but I don’t need to be babysat.” She was already coming to enjoy his company far too much.

  He lifted his chin at Jim. “I don’t like how one of her own accused her of murdering Kat. I want to make sure she’s treated right. Humor me, bud?”

  Jim exhaled. “Fine.” He looked to Libby as she grunted in frustration. “It’s best not to fight it when a McKenna sets his mind to something.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m quickly coming to see that.”

  SEVEN

  Ben climbed the steps of the Yancey B&B, where Libby and the majority of her competitors were staying. Jim had suggested they start with the friendlier of the two locations and then move to the Alaska Inn, where the communist swimmers were housed.

  “Anyone in particular I should be looking at?” Jim asked as they entered the two-story mansion converted into an inn with nearly twenty rooms.

  The house had once belonged to a wealthy Russian fur trader and was passed down through the generations until Milli Bentner and her husband, Al, purchased the property several years back in 1974, refurbishing the aging home and opening it as a bed-and-breakfast.

  Ben hoped for their sake it drew tourists and for his sake too, as it was how they made their living. Alaska was becoming the new hot spot for travelers—the last frontier to explore. Even the dozens of missing women from Anchorage and surrounding area over the past decade hadn’t appeared to deter visitors, at least not from the Kodiak archipelago where he lived. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if the Anchorage killer had made his way farther southeast than usual, but Libby seemed sold on the Russians being behind Kat’s murder. Either way, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Libby on her own until matters simmered down. He didn’t know why. She clearly was a strong woman, but something deep inside told him to stick fast to her.

  “Monika Juergen,” Libby said answering Jim’s question. “West German swimmer. She’s my and was Kat’s stiffest competition, though she always comes in third. It’s no secret she hates us both. I’d start with her.”

  “Hate strong enough to kill?” Jim asked, pausing in the lobby.

  “She gives new meaning to German stout.”

  “Jim,” Milli said, as she entered the lobby. “I have to tell you I’m not real keen on you turning my dining hall into an interrogation room.”

  Anne Murray’s latest, “Shadows in the Moonlight,” played over the lobby speakers. She had a good voice, but Ben preferred Eddie Rabbitt when it came to country singers.

  “Don’t worry.” Jim smiled. “I’m just grouping them there. I’ll interrogate in your library.”

  Milli frowned. “Yeah, that makes it loads better.” She looked past Jim. “McKenna, heard you were the one who found her.”

  “Found who?” Ben asked, curious about exactly how much everyone in town knew.

  “That poor Russian swimmer. Thelma Jenkins overheard her coach ranting on the pay phone. In Russian, of course, but he’d just come from the morgue and his swimmer is missing. Doesn’t take much to put two and two together.”

  At least not when it came to Thelma Jenkins, the burgeoning town gossip.

  Ben followed Jim into the dining area, Libby stepping close behind. A number of women and a handful of male coaches sat around the various tables. Doug stood and stepped toward her. “You okay, kid?”

  She nodded, and after a moment’s concerned assessment her coach retook his seat.

  One of the young women rushed forward. “What’s going on? We heard it was Kat.”

  Libby shouldered Ashley’s weight as she lunged into her crying, her tube top and Jordache jeans as skintight as her wet suit. Most guys stammered in her presence, but Ben didn’t seem the least bit interested. “Was it really Kat?” she asked, sniffing. Ashley had never had a nice word to say about Kat, and suddenly, here she was, overwrought at Kat’s death?

  Libby looked back at Jim, unsure what or how much she was allowed to share.

  He nodded his go-ahead.

  She swallowed, slipping her hair behind her ear. “I’m afraid it was.”

  A murmur buzzed through the room.

  “What happened?” Sylvia, the one Australian swimmer at the tournament, asked as Ashley sat again.

  Jim hitched up his pants. “I’m afraid all I’m able to confirm is Miss Stanic’s identity at this point. But I’m hoping you all will be able to help me put the pieces of her last days together.”

  “How?” Sylvia frowned.

  “By answering a few short questions.”

  “What kind of questions?” Monika asked, her German accent thick.

  “Just the basics. Miss Jennings here has kindly offered to assist me, so we’ll call you into the library one by one. I thank you for your cooperation in advance. This shouldn’t take long.”

  Wearing brown corduroy coveralls and a yellow T-shirt, Monika slumped back in her chair. “Why aren’t you questioning the Russians? They were closest to Kat. Not us.”

  “We’re planning to, Miss . . . ?”

  “Juergen.”

  “Well, Miss Juergen, why don’t we start with you.” He held out his hand, gesturing to the library at the far end of the dining hall. “This way, please.”

  Monika eyed him warily.

  Libby crossed her arms. “Unless you have something to hide?”

  “Me?” Monika stood, her shoulders broad, her arms muscular, her blond hair cropped short. “Look who’s talking. You were Kat’s number-one enemy. You conveniently happen to find her body. Please. If anybody should be questioned, it should be you.”

  “We have,” Ben said before Jim could even respond. Always so quick to jump to her defense and protection. While she greatly appreciated that, among other things about him, it didn’t change the fact she’d be gone soon and there was no room for a man in her life. Even a stellar one, as she was coming to view Ben McKenna.

  “Correct,” Jim said, following up on Ben’s statement. “Miss Jennings has already been questioned.”

  Libby hadn’t realized he’d viewed their conversations as official questioning.

  “Are we going to do this,” Monika asked, standing in front of Libby, shifting her gaze between her and Ben. “Or are you two going to gawk at each other all day?”

  Heat rushed to Libby’s cheeks. She had been staring at Ben. Again. Ignoring the smirks spreading across the room, she turned and followed Jim and Monika into the library. Two brown leather wing chairs sat in front of an ornate fireplace, the walls covered with bookshelves from floor to ceiling.

  Monika plopped down on one of the chairs and rested her foot over her bent knee, her white Nike tennis shoes bouncing up and down as she jiggled her foot. “So, what do inquiring minds want to know?” She swiped her nose. “Isn’t that what you all say in the States when you’re looking for juicy gossip?”

  “We’re not looking for gossip, ma’am,” Jim said. “We’re looking for facts.”

  “Facts. Right. Wel
l, the fact is you’re standing next to Kat’s enemy. Not looking at her.”

  “As I’ve said, I’ve already questioned Miss Jennings. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Fine.” She exhaled, blowing her fringed bangs from her forehead. “Let’s get this over with. I’m ready for a hot shower and my rubdown. Trained hard this morning.”

  “How well did you know Miss Stanic?” Jim asked.

  “Not well at all.”

  “How many competitions have you been in together?”

  “We’ve competed against each other maybe twenty times.”

  “Over how many years?” Jim asked.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “A decade, maybe.”

  “And in all those years how many times did you beat Miss Stanic?”

  Libby bit back a smile. Jim was good. Getting right to the heart of the reason for the animosity that existed between Monika and Kat.

  Monika’s jaw clenched. “None,” she gritted out.

  “None.” Jim strode forward, squatting in front of her. “That must have made you angry?”

  Disgust rippled across Monika’s face. “I see what you are doing here.”

  “What am I doing?” he asked.

  “Trying to make me look like the bad guy, but I’m tired of playing along.” She got to her feet. “I’m done here.”

  “Sit down, Miss Juergen. Please,” Jim said, polite but firm. “Only two questions to go.”

  “Fine.” She retook her seat. “Two.”

  “Did you see Kat at practice yesterday?”

  “Yes. We both swam early.”

  “Why?”

  She glanced over at Libby. “Less distractions. Better focus.”

  “And then what did you both do?”

  “No clue what Kat did, but I came back here and changed, then went for a long run.”

  “A run after swimming? Why the extra exercise?”

  “Part of my training regimen.”

  “So you run every day?” Jim asked.

  “Not every day.”

  “Where’d you run?”

  “I don’t know the names of places. Back off in the wilderness somewhere.”

  “See anyone on your run?”

  “I was focused on the run. Not my surroundings.”

  “And then?”

  “And now I’m leaving. I’ve answered far more than two questions. If you want to talk to me more, you can go through my coach.” She strode from the room.

  “You’re just going to let her leave like that?” Libby asked, outraged.

  Monika always liked to be in control, calling the shots, but this was Jim’s arena. Why’d he let her walk like that?

  “She’s not a U.S. citizen. As far as I know she’s committed no crime. I have no right to force her to answer any of my questions. What she did was a courtesy.”

  “I’d hardly call that a courtesy.”

  “She told us both she and Kat practiced early.”

  “Yeah. I saw Kat leaving practice yesterday as I arrived.”

  “And Monika?”

  “Can’t say I recall seeing her at all, come to think of it.”

  “Then we should speak with her coach next.”

  “He’s only going to back up what she’s said.”

  “Only if it’s the truth, or if she told him what she told us.”

  “And how will we know which is the case?” Libby asked.

  He smiled. “Ben’s out there listening.”

  Right. Ben. What had he heard?

  A few minutes passed before Monika’s coach, Claus Dieter, entered. Libby looked past him to Ben before Jim shut the door. They’d have to learn what Ben had overheard, if anything.

  “Mr. Dieter, please have a seat.”

  The man, balding though only in his early forties, sat. He was the stereotypical, overbearing, hard-nosed coach, and Libby doubted they’d get more than a grunted one-word answer or two out of him.

  “Did you see Kat Stanic at practice yesterday morning?” Jim began.

  “Yes. She and Monika practiced before the rest of the girls.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Monika had other training she wanted to do, and the two of them practicing alone makes them drive one another. It’s good for Monika to go against her stiffest competition.” He offered a slide glance in Libby’s direction along with the jab. Monika had yet to beat her either.

  “What time did she finish practice?” Jim asked.

  “Seven thirty.”

  “And then?”

  “I told you, she trained.”

  “How?”

  “A run, I believe.”

  “You believe? Aren’t you in charge of her fitness?”

  “Yes, but she keeps her own log and I oversee.”

  Interesting, she hadn’t offered to share her log.

  “Did you see her running?” Jim asked.

  “No, I had another swimmer practicing at regular time.”

  “So you can’t verify Monika was running?” Libby said.

  “If Monika said she ran, she ran. She’s my most dedicated athlete. You can check her log.”

  Logs could easily be forged.

  “We’ll do that,” Jim said.

  “Any idea what Kat did after finishing her practice?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my business to keep an eye on the competition.”

  That was a flat-out lie. All coaches kept an eye on the competition.

  “Thank you, Mr. Dieter. I appreciate your cooperation. If you think of anything that might be helpful, here’s my card.”

  Dieter slipped it into the pocket of his green tracksuit.

  Jim turned to Libby after Dieter left. “Sounds like we may want to start asking if anyone actually saw Monika on her run, and when we are done here we need to speak with Kat’s coach and see where she headed after her run.”

  “I doubt he’ll tell you anything.”

  “If he wants to find her killer, he will.”

  “You’re assuming he’s not her killer,” Libby said.

  “You really think her own coach would kill her?” Jim asked.

  “You’ve got to understand. Russia works very differently than we do.”

  Ben popped his head in. “How’s it going?”

  “Okay. How’s it going out there?”

  “Good. I’ll catch you up when you’re done.”

  Time passed, and they finally reached the last competitor—Sylvia Mollet, from Australia.

  “Thanks for your patience, Miss Mollet,” Jim said, shutting the door behind her.

  “No problem. If I can be of any help.”

  They ran through the typical questions—how well she knew Kat, if she saw Kat after practice, when she saw her last. But Libby moved forward with the question burning on her mind. She’d asked every competitor, but no one had seen Monika between seven thirty a.m. and four p.m. the day Kat turned up dead. “Any chance you saw Monika after yesterday’s practice?”

  “Actually, yeah.”

  Libby’s heart lightened. Finally.

  “Where?”

  “Heading off toward the old marina.”

  “The old marina?” She turned to Ben, who had joined them in the room.

  “No one uses it anymore,” he explained. “It’s become a boat junkyard. We needed a nice new-looking marina for all the cruise tourists.”

  “Well, I was curious, so I followed her for a bit.”

  “And?” Libby asked.

  “I saw her meeting with a man.”

  “Recognize him?”

  “He had a baseball hat and sunglasses on and I was a distance away, so I couldn’t say, but he was carrying a bag in his hand and the two of them headed up over the hill together.”

  “And then?” Libby asked.

  “I turned back around. I was meeting the Canadian girls for lunch.”

  So Monika was lying. Libby knew it. They’d have to talk to her again.

  “Anything else you think might be helpful?�
� Jim asked.

  “There was this guy.”

  “With Monika?”

  “No, hanging around the tournaments. I saw him in Cali and then again here. Seemed to always be watching Kat from a distance.”

  “Did you report him to anyone?” Libby asked.

  “Yeah, I told Kat.”

  “And?”

  “She just brushed it off. Said he was probably some shy fan. Nothing to worry about.”

  That didn’t sound like Kat.

  “Can you describe him?” Jim asked.

  “Tall, lean. I think he had dark hair, but it was hard to tell. He always wore a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses—even on cloudy or rainy days. Weird, huh?”

  Libby leaned forward. “Did you say a hooded sweatshirt?”

  “Yeah. A black knit one.”

  Just like she’d seen at the hospital earlier today.

  EIGHT

  What now?” Ben asked as Sylvia left the room. He wondered about Libby’s interest in Sylvia’s hooded mystery man.

  “We ask Monika what she was doing by the old marina and why she lied to us,” Jim said.

  It took a bit of searching, but they found Monika out by the old marina, of all places, her back to them, deep in conversation with a man. The man caught sight of them, and she turned, her eyes full of fear.

  “Jakob?” Libby asked.

  “You know him?” Ben said.

  “He’s an assistant trainer for Kat and Sasha.”

  “So for the two Russian swimmers in this race?” And Monika’s main competition.

  “Yes.”

  Interesting.

  “What are you two doing out here anyway? Trying to get your stories straight?” Libby said, approaching. “It’s already too late. We know you lied to us, Monika. What? Did the two of you conspire to kill Kat, knock the competition out of the way? You couldn’t wait another week? You know this was her last season.” Rage and indignation for Kat and how she’d been murdered in cold blood boiled in her veins.

  Monika stepped toward her. “It’s not like that.”

  “Monika,” Jakob cautioned.

  “We don’t have a choice. We have to tell them.”

  “I’ll get fired, and you’ll get pulled out of the competition.”

  “It’s better than them thinking we murdered Kat.”