Cold Land: A Mystery Thriller

by John Oakes

  “Gimme a break.” Jake knew Mustache had slinked out the back already and would be tearing for the beater car. He launched off the steps and drove a shoulder into the sprinting man, sending him tumbling in the gravel, making involuntary grunts. He cried and choked in pain as Jake stalked up to him. Jake left his pistol in the holster and planted a boot on the back of Mustache’s neck.

  “All right. Had enough or are we gonna talk like gentlemen?” Jake lifted his chin toward the car.

  Shades took off his shades, assessing the situation, then put the car in gear and rolled forward, stopping a few feet from them.

  “Names?” Jake asked.

  Shades stepped out behind the driver’s door. “We didn’t do nothing.”

  “My name’s Rudy.” Mustache pushed Jake’s foot away with an arm and got to his hands and knees. “That’s my brother Randy.”

  “Very well,” Jake said. “Now there need be no more fisticuffs and slinging of food products. Shall we agree?” Jake motioned inside the house and followed the two brothers in. He sat them down at the small, round dining table and waggled a finger sideways. “Twins, right? Who’s older?”

  “We don’t know,” Rudy said, twitching his mustache from side to side.

  “You don’t know?” Jake asked, incredulous.

  “Mom kept mixing us up until we were about seven,” Rudy said.

  “Mom can’t recognize faces good. It’s not just us.” Randy adjusted his canvas jacket.

  “Eventually we worked out a way of dressing and that helped her out.”

  “Huh, well, not to make too big a thing of it, but mind telling my you were scampering off with brats and yogurts?”

  “Oh well…” Rudy eyed Randy, making some silent twin communication, Jake was sure. “We heard what happened to David, and we were super sad—but we just got to thinking that he’d just made his Costco run and the thought of all those brats and yogurts going to waste, well, that just bugged us out, man.”

  “Bugged us out real bad, man.” Randy rocked back and forth, nodding.

  Jake held his hands out and let them fall to his thighs. “You folks up here really got a thing for—ah never mind. We don’t have to discuss that any more, boys. Tell me simple, were you friends with David?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Randy said. “Since little.”

  “Gotta ask. Did you kill him?”

  “No way, dude.” Rudy shook his head with something like a smile on his odd face and downturned mouth. “We’d never hurt David.”

  “We’d sometimes wait for him in the bushes and attack him with sticks and lengths of rubber hose,” Randy said. “But just for fun and such. Not like real.”

  “Shut up Randy,” Rudy said.

  “Oh, I had friends like you growing up, still do.” Jake put a boot on a chair and leaned on his leg. “Do you fellas know anything about his death?”

  Two heads shook.

  “How’d you hear about it?”

  They exchanged a look, and Rudy said, “A friend told us.”

  “What friend?”

  “Our friend Mike. He listens to the police scanner all the time, on account of him wanting to be a cop, but he can’t because he’s too fat.”

  “Fat Mike we call him,” Randy said.

  “Gotcha,” Jake said with a nod.

  “And then there’s Hair Lip Mike,” Randy said. “He’s the other Mike.”

  “What does he have to do with this?” Jake asked.

  Randy held up a hand. “I was just saying ahead of time — in case — so there’s no confusion.”

  “Just to be clear,” Jake said. “Hair Lip Mike had nothing to do with this?”

  “Well, if we’re naming all the Mikes,” Rudy said, “There’s Crazy Mike and Mike with the nice truck.”

  “Seriously sweet truck.”

  “Okay.” Jake cut a hand through the air. “Got it. Let’s just talk about people who were real close with David. He have a girlfriend? Maybe pregnant?”

  They looked at one another, and answered yes with their gazes locked, then turned up to Jake. “How’d you know?”

  “Could she have killed David?”

  “Oh come on,” Randy said. “She was having his baby.”

  “Sarah Paulsen, right?” Jake asked.

  Rudy nodded, eyes growing wider at the mention of her name. “How’d you—”

  “Was she running this scam with you two and David?”

  “Sometime, gah—”

  Rudy slammed a fist into Randy’s shoulder. “Shush, Randy.”

  Randy adopted a a contrite position and massaged his arm, letting Rudy perform the spokesman duties.

  “We don’t know anything about any sort of scam,” Rudy said delicately.

  “Let’s say that were true. Was Sarah involved in David’s scamming?”

  An exchange of glances, then a nod from Rudy.

  “Did they like to quarrel a lot?”

  “To squirrel?” Randy asked. “They must have been squirreling enough to get her pregnant.”

  “Quarrel.” Jake annunciated the word clearly. “Did they fight much?”

  “Just a normal amount,” Rudy said.

  “Where can I find her? Did she live here?”

  “Sometimes, gah—” Randy bit off his words as Rudy socked him in the shoulder again. “Damn, Rudy. Right in the same spot.”

  “Enough with the hitting,” Jake whined. “Just tell the God’s honest truth. Where can I find her?”

  “She doesn’t really have one place.” Rudy clammed up after that, lips physically clamping shut.

  “She moves around,” Randy added.

  “Why not stay here with her boyfriend? They’d have the whole house.”

  The brothers exchanged a glance as if considering the question. They shrugged simultaneously.

  “Boys. Don’t go all quiet on me.”

  “Who knows.” Rudy appeared exasperated or hurt. “Sarah had her reasons for stuff. And she didn’t tell us much about it.”

  “She didn’t ever like us much.” Randy looked to his brother, but no arm punches seemed imminent. “Even though we help her with stuff any time she asks.”

  “Kinda rude when you think about it,” Rudy said.

  “What about the people David’s been scamming? Seems like one of them coulda wanted to get revenge.” Jake had already considered the idea and found it lacking, but asked the brothers anyhow.

  “I suppose. But then again, it coulda been—gah!” Randy doubled over in pain clutching his shoulder after Rudy once more drove a fist into its tenderized flesh. He gurgled unintelligible curses, then stood and mule kicked his own chair back at his brother. He shoved past Jake and hopped around in pain, still muttering to himself.

  “Walk it off, then.” Jake motioned to the living room then looked back at Rudy. “You got a real subtle way of communicating with your brother, there.”

  Rudy looked up, eyes sullen and glassy.

  “I thought twins were supposed to be on some wavelength, almost like reading each other’s minds.”

  “I don’t know about that. You have a brother?”

  “No.”

  Rudy raised his eyebrows as if Jake had somehow answered his own question. “So what kind of cop are you, exactly?”

  “You ever heard of the Texas Rangers? I’m not talking about the baseball team.”

  “Like bounty hunters?”

  “No, like real bonafide police. One of the best State PD outfits this country has ever known.” Jake stood taller and adjusted his belt. “You could say I’m here to work with our peers to the north, show them how we do it in the Lone Star State. Now go gather up all that food you stole and meet me by your car.”

  “Where we going?”

  “Don’t worry, friend. It’s a place where you two will fit right in.”

  SEVEN

  Softly, Softly

  Back at the Bureau, Jake approached Melinda’s desk, but didn’t have to come to a full stop, as she immediately reache
d for her cigarettes. They took to the roof and Melinda lit up. “Progress?” she muttered through clenched lips.

  “Sure.” Jake put his hands on his hips and looked out over the flat city. “I threw David Young’s associates in a room with Nelson. I figure Nelson will get his licks in. Can’t hurt to scare them real good.”

  “Might wanna check on him quick.”

  “Don’t worry, I will. The three of them in an interrogation is like bowling balls in a washing machine. Gonna be a lot of clunking before some sort of explosion.”

  Melinda tried to hide a sharp laugh. “Well? Learn anything useful?”

  “Just that this lady friend of David’s, Sarah Paulsen, she’s pregnant, she does have secrets, and she may have been the brains of their little money order scam.”

  “Pregnant? Oh dear.” Melinda shuddered. “Part of me wants to reach out and protect her, since her man just died,” Melinda said. “But she’s a suspect, isn’t she?”

  “Something like that. This killing was up close and personal. Despite the fact they were scamming people, this murder doesn’t appear to be retribution for that. I have a feeling David Young died by the hand of someone he knew, and he died real surprised.”

  “Why would a pregnant woman kill her man just before her baby was born?”

  Maybe it was because she was accustomed to working with idiots, but Melinda had a way of asking questions she already had answers to. Jake took it as a kindness.

  “Well, ma’am, might not be the first time a mother ever killed her baby daddy. But as to why exactly? I can’t guess yet. Besides, that knife was stuck in deep, with some real force. If it was a petite woman, she sure put some elbow grease on it.”

  Jerry’s old cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

  “Looking into other possibilities,” Jake said. “Jerry went to see about David Young’s close associates. Namely his brother. Supposed to be locked up somewhere.”

  “Sounds useful. Go on. Don’t forget to check on Nelson.”

  Jake tipped the brim of his hat and made off.

  Nelson had only spent ten or fifteen minutes with the twins but had already worked himself into a fine froth. When Jake entered the interrogation, he had removed his jacket, loosened his tie, undone his collar and two buttons, and had sprung a flop sweat like Jake hadn’t seen on an actual criminal in the hot seat. He wanted to remind Nelson that he was the hunter and not the prey, but Nelson was too focused on continually undermining himself

  “I don’t even know what a money order is,” Rudy said, holding up cuffed hands. “How do you just order money?”

  “Yeah, you think if we could just order money up we’d be here right now?” Randy smirked. “We’d be someplace fancy like Chicago or Duluth.”

  “Don’t play coy with me!” Nelson plunged a finger from high up in the air down to the table top. “You were colluding with David Young and Sarah Paulsen in the illegal manufacture of money orders.”

  “Boys,” Jake said. “Come on, now. Don’t give my friend here fits. We talked about this already.”

  “Talked about what?” Rudy asked.

  There was something in Rudy’s eyes genuinely dumb and unknowing. Jake sat sideways on the edge of the table and leaned in. “At the house we talked about how you helped David and Sarah scam some folks.”

  Rudy’s chin rose and his mustache seemed to stretch out. “Ohh. Like the fake checks?”

  “Yeah.” Jake nodded gently. “The kind of checks you were making are what Agent Nelson is calling a money order.”

  “So are we, like, in trouble?” Randy asked.

  For a moment, Jake expected Rudy to throw one of his trademark hammer fists to the shoulder, but he kept his doe-like eyes on Jake, asking the same question.

  “You are in a bit of trouble,” Jake said.

  “A bit?” Nelson snorted. “This is a felony offense that carries a maximum sentence of fifteen years in prison and a twenty-five thousand dollar fine.”

  Jake tipped his hat back and whistled. “Well, when you put it like that…”

  “Fifteen years?” Rudy practically came out of his seat. His voice cracked as he repeated himself.

  “I think you fellas know what you were doing was wrong,” Jake said. “Time to pay the piper.”

  The twins’ gazes met in a stormy but silent exchange. “Lawyer,” Randy finally whispered.

  “Lawyer!” Rudy echoed, he usually being the one with the ideas.

  “Fine.” Nelson held his hands out. “Get a lawyer. Get ten lawyers. I don’t care. I have so much evidence on you it’s absurd.”

  Jake led Nelson to the door. “All right then.”

  “I’m just about to break them,” Nelson pleaded.

  “They asked for a lawyer. If you keep pressing them, it just gets messy. If you got a slam dunk case, then play it by the book, man.”

  “Very well.” Nelson passed through the door, but Jake closed it behind him and turned back to the twins.

  “Get a lawyer if you want,” he growled. “But he’s right. Legally, you’re toast. Your best play here is to remember that there is something bigger we want. A murder to be solved, at the very least. I have a feeling that solving a murder would bring this little branch of law enforcement so much positive attention that some less egregious matters might get left in the wake.”

  Neither twin seemed to fully grasp his meaning. Jake pointed to Rudy. “Think hard. In five or ten minutes, explain it to your brother. I’ll be back.”

  Jake found Nelson in the hallway fumbling with a dollar bill he was trying to slide into the vending machine. After Nelson delivered two palm strikes to the machine in frustration, Jake intervened and took the dollar bill away.

  “Nelson. Buddy.” Jake looked the bill over. “You divorced? Got a couple kids who don’t like being around you?”

  Nelson blinked, and his shoulders rose like a dogs hackles.

  “I’m just asking the question. Tell me I’m wrong. It’s okay if I am.”

  “You’re not far off. So what?”

  “Can I give you a piece of personal and professional advice?”

  “Like you got it all figured out?”

  “I most certainly do not.” Jake ran the dollar bill over the edge of the machine, smoothing it out. “Then again, I ain’t the one soaked in sweat trying to use violence to obtain a Nutter Butter.”

  Nelson still breathed heavily, but some of the redness left his face.

  “I got myself into trouble plenty early on in my police days. The use of force was a little heavy handed, I’ll admit. Now there’s a time and a place for throwing down, but generally speaking life got better when someone gave me this same word of advice.”

  “Okay…”

  Jake studied Nelson and narrowed his eyes. “How do you catch a monkey?”

  “A monkey?” Nelson glazed over, then his eyes sparkled to life. “With a net? Or one of those tranquilizer guns. I saw it on the National Geographic Channel.”

  “That’s not…” Jake shook his head and slid the straightened bill into the machine. “Softly. You catch a monkey softly.” The bill disappeared, and Jake punched the numbers to make a candy fall. He picked it out and handed it to Nelson. “Softly.”

  “Softly?”

  “You don’t make a car go fast by putting it straight into fifth gear from first. Take a breath, be aware, and be patient with your quarry.”

  Jerry entered the hallway, looked toward his office, then their way. His eyes brightened and he sprang up on his toes waving a file.

  “Whatcha got?” Jake asked.

  “The brother,” Jerry said, stepping toward them. “He was released on parole three days ago. Russell Young.” Jerry held the file a loft. “Three days ago.”

  Jerry’s words rang like church bells, but set off a series of foul feelings in Jake. “Got a forwarding address?”

  “For whatever good it does us, yes.”

  Jake clapped Nelson on the shoulder. “Take a break. Get some food. Let t
he twins stew. Think about what I said, friend. Softly, softly.”

  EIGHT

  Coon Rapids

  On I-35 going north, Jerry grumbled something about construction barring his way north, then leaned back, accepting his fate and his detour.

  “Where we heading?”

  “Anoka County. Russell Young’s PO gave me a different address than the record. Said Russell already checked in and seemed real eager to keep out of the way.”

  “It’s north of the city I take it?”

  “It’s north metro, yeah.” Jerry’s mustache twitched.

  “You don’t seem pleased.”

  “Ah, it’s just that nothing good ever happens when I go to Anoka County. You got a lot of cross-eyed, camo-wearing, mouth breather types up there.”

  “Now, don’t hold back how you really feel, Mister Jerry.”

  “Well…”

  Jake smiled, sensing Jerry felt chastised when he’d only been joking. “We have counties like that in Texas.”

  “I never wanted to be the kind of police officer who just saw the worst in people, and I’m not. I just don’t have much nice to say about Anoka. So maybe I’ll keep quiet.”

  After a few quiet minutes they crossed over a river that sparkled in the weak sun.

  “Pretty big river,” Jake said. “Thought you were all about them lakes here.”

  “That there is the Mississippi River.”

  “The Mississippi? As in the Mississippi River?” Jake’s chin retreated into his neck, as he tried to reconcile the news with his sense of US geography.

  “Well, yeah. Has to start somewhere, doesn’t it?” Jerry cocked his head wistfully to the side. “My grandparents had a house and a little farm right smack on the bank of the Mississippi when I was a kid. We’d go out there for summers and breaks. My grandfather grew up speaking German, like a lot of folks out here, but stopped when the First World War broke out. He got drafted, along with four or five other young fellas from his area. At some point, two of his friends got pulled into intelligence and signals, on account of being honest about their German language skills. One died in a training accident just before they left. So, the only remaining guy from home in his unit was actually his old hated rival. They’d butted heads over girls and sports and their fathers’ business dealings all growing up. Hated one another. But they both had this secret that they were fluent German speakers, afraid for anyone to find out. Anyhow, they get over to France and a couple battles in, they’re best friends of course. War does that. Horst was the boy’s name. Willie maybe. Willie Horst? That sounds about right. So my grandfather, John Unger, and Willie Horst are in a big army division moving south just before the battle of the Somme, but they didn’t know that at the time. Willie stops for a piss and begs my grandfather to help be his lookout. Well, next thing they know, they got knives to their throats and some German special ops fellas are whispering for them to keep quiet or they’ll kill them.”