‘If she killed our girl, God will punish her.’
‘If? What do you mean by that?’
Julia ran a fingernail slowly along the line of her chin. ‘We don’t know exactly what happened.’
‘Maybe you don’t, but I do.’
‘I’m having doubts.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why?’
‘Because I thought I knew everything about Ashlynn, and now I realize I was wrong. She shut me out of the most intimate part of her life.’
‘Are you saying you really didn’t know she was pregnant? She didn’t tell you?’
‘No, she didn’t. I knew something was wrong. She was different. I should have been more attuned.’
‘I assumed you were simply keeping it from me.’
‘I’m not saying I would have told you if I knew.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I don’t know what to believe anymore,’ Julia said. ‘Ashlynn didn’t trust me with the most difficult decision she’d ever faced. She went and did something she knew I would find abhorrent.’
‘Maybe that’s why she didn’t tell you,’ he said. ‘She knew what you’d say. Or maybe she figured it was none of your business. You said it yourself. She was perfectly capable of making up her own mind.’
‘Not about this.’
‘You can’t have it both ways, Julia.’
His wife looked as if she would fire back at him, but she didn’t. Her icy face bled into sorrow, and he thought the religious calm she affected would finally break into tears. It didn’t. She held herself in check, stiffening her resolve. With Julia, it was like God was holding a dam back. With him, it was as if he were alone in a giant dark space.
Julia poured herself a glass of wine. That told him how upset she was, in the places where she didn’t invite him. She rarely drank. She took a sip, twisted her mouth at the sharpness, and came and sat next to him.
‘There are days when I hate what we’ve become,’ she murmured.
‘Don’t you think I feel that way, too?’
‘I don’t know what you feel anymore.’
‘I loved her,’ Florian said.
‘I loved her more than anything else in my life. Except maybe you.’
Julia didn’t melt at the compliment. ‘Thank you for saying that, but Ashlynn and I have always been fourth on your list. There’s Mondamin, money, and yourself. Then us.’
‘That’s not true. It’s never been about money, and I’ve never done this for myself. I started Mondamin to make a difference.’
‘Oh, don’t be noble. You started Mondamin to build a mountain. You wanted to be king. I don’t blame you for that, Florian. I knew you were going to be rich and do great things. God had big plans for you. I wanted to be a part of them. Did I complain when you dragged me to this wasteland? Did I tell you not to work eighteen hours a day? No. Never a word.’
‘I know you made sacrifices,’ he said. ‘So did I.’
‘Sacrifices didn’t bother me. I believed in you. I believed in what you were doing at Mondamin.’
He could see the truth in her eyes. She didn’t believe in him now. ‘What changed?’
Julia got up without finishing her wine. ‘Maybe I began to see you through Ashlynn’s eyes.’
He felt as if she’d run him through with a sword. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means my baby girl is dead,’ she replied in a rising voice, ‘and I’m bitter at God, and I’m bitter at you. But God isn’t here right now, and you are. So you’re the one I blame. I always knew there would be a price to pay, but I never dreamed it would be so high.’
He shook his head. ‘If it helps you to lay her death at my feet, fine, but it’s not my fault.’
‘Are you sure? The pregnancy wasn’t the only thing she was keeping from us, Florian. There was more.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I found her in your downstairs office a couple of weeks ago.’
‘What was she doing there?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t interrupt her.’
‘You should have told me,’ he said. ‘Or you should have talked to her.’
‘She obviously didn’t want us to know.’
‘It doesn’t mean anything.’
‘No? Last fall, she asked me about Vernon Clay, too,’ Julia told him.
Florian tensed. He’d hoped never to hear that name again. He certainly never wanted to hear it on Ashlynn’s lips. ‘What about him?’
‘She wanted to know what he did for you at Mondamin. She wanted to know what happened to him.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said he was a scientist who used to work for you. He left town years ago.’
‘Why was she asking about him?’
‘Why do you think? She suspected something.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Don’t be so sure. Ashlynn was a smart girl, Florian.’ His wife marched toward the kitchen, but she stopped in the doorway and fingered the cross on her neck. ‘This man Aquarius seems to know a lot about us, too.’
‘Don’t worry about him.’
‘I’ve been wondering. What if it’s Vernon? What if he’s back?’
‘He’s not. It’s not him.’
‘How do you know? Vernon was insane enough to do this. The notes sound like him.’
‘Aquarius is not Vernon Clay. He’s just another nut from the anarchist fringe and nothing more.’
‘This one is different,’ Julia said. ‘His notes feel different. You know what I think? I think he plans to kill us.’
‘That’s crazy.’
‘Maybe he already started. Did you think about that? Maybe he started with Ashlynn.’
Florian pushed himself off the hearth and stabbed a finger at his wife. ‘Don’t talk like that. You’re giving Chris Hawk exactly what he wants. All you’re doing is helping Olivia get away with murder. Aquarius had nothing to do with Ashlynn’s death. Nothing.’
Julia shook her head. ‘I’m not so sure, Florian. There’s a part of me that thinks Aquarius was sent here by God on a special mission to punish us. He was sent to wash us away like we never existed.’
25
The fields surrounding Rollie Swenson’s house hadn’t been plowed in years. The dormant acres had been reclaimed by prairie. The red barn was a relic, its walls bowing, its roof near collapse. A tractor sat in the lawn, swallowed by mud and rust, as if it had been driven out of the corn rows one day and left to fend for itself against the elements. The long brown grass of the yard was dotted with last season’s fallen leaves, blown from the river bank on the other side of the highway.
Chris parked next to a Chevy Tahoe near the house. It was dusk. Lights were on downstairs and upstairs, and the screened windows were open, letting in the evening breeze. He got out and heard barking. A white Westie terrier shot from the porch and ran around him in frantic circles. He squatted to rub its head, but the dog was too busy to stop for attention. It snorted and charged for the deck and sniffed its way along the foundation.
‘He’s always flushing rabbits and mice,’ Rollie Swenson called from the porch. The Barron lawyer had a can of Miller Lite in his hand. ‘He chases planes, too, when they fly overhead. I guess he figures they might land here.’
‘You can’t be too careful,’ Chris said with a smile.
‘Well, we haven’t had a plane land in the yard since he started going after them. That can’t be a coincidence.’ Rollie winked and wandered down the steps. He wore jeans and an untucked gray turtleneck that was snug on his stocky chest. ‘Welcome to the Swenson family farm.’
Chris heard the irony. ‘I take it you’re not getting ready for spring planting.’
‘I told you, calloused hands aren’t my style. I could lease the fields, but I don’t want diesel motors waking me up at five in the morning.’
‘This was your parents’ place?’ he asked.
‘And my grandparents’ place and my great-grandparents’ place. The Swenson
dynasty ends with me. Hopefully, Tanya will wise up and move to the city.’ He held up his can of beer. ‘You want one?’
‘No, thanks.’
Rollie took a swig of beer and admired the Lexus. ‘Nice car, but not too practical out here. This is truck country. You want something that takes out a deer on the highway like a speed bump.’ He added, ‘How’s Olivia?’
‘Physically, she’s better than I feared. We’ll see how she does in the next few weeks.’
‘That’s good. Tanya wanted to visit her, but I had to tell her not to do that.’
‘I understand.’
‘Be sure to let her know that Tanya is thinking about her, okay?’
‘I will,’ Chris said.
‘I heard rumors that you’re looking at Johan Magnus as a suspect in Ashlynn’s death.’
‘Where did you hear that?’
Rollie shrugged. ‘I know every cop in the county. Word gets around.’
Chris debated how much to say. ‘Johan and Ashlynn were involved.’
‘So I hear.’
‘Does that surprise you?’
‘What, because of the Romeo and Juliet angle? Sure, I guess. Otherwise, there’s nothing surprising about two kids in a small town getting together. I don’t see how it helps your case. The cops think Johan dumped Olivia to be with Ashlynn, so all you’ve got is another motive.’
‘Johan went to the ghost town that night after Olivia and Tanya left,’ Chris said.
Rollie digested this information like a poker player. ‘Is that guesswork or can you prove it?’
‘He admitted being there. I found bloody clothes.’
‘Well, son of a bitch,’ Rollie said. ‘Did he admit killing her?’
‘No, he claims Ashlynn was already dead.’
‘That’s still good news for Olivia. Honestly, I thought you were blowing smoke about her not pulling the trigger. I figured you were laying a foundation for a plea bargain. This gives you a chance of actually getting her off.’
‘Did Tanya know that Johan and Ashlynn were an item?’ he asked.
‘She never mentioned it to me, but I don’t expect she would even if she knew.’
‘Is she home? I’d like to ask her a few questions.’
Rollie finished his beer without replying. Chris didn’t think the can of Miller Lite was his first of the evening. It was the end of the day, and the lawyer’s black hair was dirty, his beard line heavy.
‘You talk about Tanya, and I start to get nervous, Chris. What do you want to know?’
‘Tanya and Johan are friends. I was wondering if he said anything to her about Ashlynn.’
He watched the calculations in Rollie’s mind. He’d spent years reading faces on the other side of a bargaining table. That was how lawyers worked, trying to guess the other lawyer’s game and figure out how to outfox them. Rollie did the same.
‘If Johan and Ashlynn’s affair was a big secret,’ Rollie said, ‘it’s hard to imagine him saying anything to Tanya.’
‘Maybe he told Tanya something about a new girlfriend, even if he didn’t say who it was.’
‘Or maybe he said something that will hurt your case and blow him out of the water as a suspect. Did you think about that? I’m surprised you’d take the risk, Chris. You know the golden rule of interrogating witnesses. Don’t ask a question if there’s a chance you won’t like the answer.’
‘If I don’t ask her, the police will,’ Chris said. ‘I can’t afford to be blindsided.’
Rollie studied the Lexus again, as if the car were a witness on the stand spilling its secrets. ‘I’ll bet you’re a great dealmaker, Chris. The trouble is, I never believe a word that another lawyer tells me. The more you say you want to talk about Johan, the more I think you really want to talk about Tanya.’
‘I simply want to find out what she knows.’
‘Which means you think she knows something.’
Chris decided that he wasn’t going to finesse any information out of Rollie Swenson. The only approach was the direct approach. ‘Cards on the table?’
‘Sure.’
‘How well did Tanya know Ashlynn?’
‘As well as two students in the same school. She had zero motive to kill her.’
‘I didn’t say she did.’
‘Yes, but you’d love to find one,’ Rollie retorted. ‘Johan is the prime suspect, but it’s always nice to have a fallback, right? Tanya called Olivia that night, and then she snuck back to the ghost town to shoot Ashlynn. That’s the idea, I get it. Except if you want to sell that nonsense to a jury, you need a motive. I’m curious, do you have a theory, or are you just throwing shit at the window to see what sticks? Let me guess. Tanya and Ashlynn were having a torrid lesbian affair. Or maybe Tanya was secretly in love with Johan and wanted to get her rival out of the way. Or maybe my daughter is just a serial killer who’s after rich blond girls, Chris. Is that it? Do you think this is some kind of James Patterson novel?’
‘I’m not trying to pin anything on her, but Tanya knows more than she’s telling me.’
‘What makes you think so?’
‘Ashlynn called Tanya the day before she died,’ Chris said.
Rollie shook his head and looked amused. ‘That’s the big secret? I hate to burst your bubble, but I know about the call.’
‘Neither of you mentioned it to the police,’ Chris said.
‘You’re right. That’s my fault. No offense, but we were both pretty tired and stressed on Saturday morning, okay?’
‘So what was the call?’ Chris asked.
‘Tanya sits next to Ashlynn in a Religious Studies class. Ashlynn missed the class on Thursday, and she wanted to know if the teacher assigned homework for the weekend.’
‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it,’ Rollie said. ‘I was sitting with her in the living room when she got the call.’
‘Why did Ashlynn call Tanya and not someone else?’
‘Probably because they’re the two best students in the class. Not that I understand why. Tanya sure doesn’t get her religious savvy from me.’
Chris frowned. The explanation made sense. It was simple. Logical. Unmysterious. Even so, it bothered him. ‘Do you know what Ashlynn was doing that day?’ he asked.
‘No, Tanya just said she missed class.’
‘She was in Nebraska having an abortion,’ Chris said.
Rollie looked sucker-punched. He was genuinely upset. ‘Is that true?’
‘Yes.’
‘Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be flip, Chris. I had no idea.’
‘It’s hard to believe Ashlynn was worried about a homework assignment while she was losing her baby,’ Chris said.
‘I don’t know what to tell you. Tanya told me what the call was about, and I believe her.’
‘I’d really like to talk to her.’
‘Chris, she’s scared, she’s fragile, and she didn’t do anything. I’m not putting her through more intimidation.’ Rollie turned as the noise of a buzzer floated through the open door of the house. ‘That’s our dinner, too, so I’m going to say goodnight.’
‘What’s on the menu?’
‘Tater tot hot dish. Tanya’s favorite.’
‘Enjoy it,’ Chris said.
‘Be sure to give Olivia her best wishes, okay?’
‘I’ll do that.’
The younger lawyer disappeared up the stairs and shut the door. Chris stood next to his Lexus without getting inside. The phone call still bothered him. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t believe it was that simple, no matter what Tanya had told her father. Something else was going on between her and Ashlynn, and he wanted to find out what it was.
He opened his car door, but as he did, he saw movement rustling the curtains on an upstairs bedroom. A face quickly vanished from sight, but their eyes met across the dark space. It was Tanya Swenson. She’d been hiding near the open window as Chris talked to her father.
She’d heard everything.
26<
br />
It was nightfall. Under the barest sliver of moon, the open lands of the Spirit River valley were almost invisible.
Chris pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road where 120th Street led to the river. His engine ran. He switched his lights off. Trees hung low over the asphalt, draping their branches on the roof of the Lexus. He gripped the steering wheel, debating whether to turn. He had been agonizing all day about what he needed to do. There were certain lines in life that were indelible: if you crossed them you couldn’t go back.
The gun was on the passenger seat beside him.
His daughter was in the hospital. She’d been brutally violated. She would recover, but the stain would be with her for ever, like a tattoo inked into her brain. Like graffiti scrawled on a perfect, beautiful painting. His anger was so deep it left him speechless. Something needed to be done; someone needed to pay. He thought about Marco Piva, who had become his conscience and his compass in the short time he had known him. You want to rage against the world. That was true, but his rage had a focus and a purpose now. Kirk Watson.
Half a mile behind him, headlights drew closer on the highway. He couldn’t afford to be seen here, and he had to make a choice: stay or go. With a tap of the accelerator, he swung into the woods that lined the river road. He coasted toward the water. Acorns and branches popped and snapped under his tires. He squinted, but he was mostly blind. Lights winked through the trees, marking the handful of houses built well back inside the forest. He lowered his window, and he could smell the dankness of the river not far away. Ahead of him, where the lights vanished, the road ended at the water. He was as close as he dared go.
He did a three-point turn and pulled as far to the side of the road as he could. He didn’t get out immediately; instead, he stared into nothingness. Wet leaves clung to his windshield. A crow screamed in the treetops. He took the revolver from the seat and felt its heft in the palm of his hand. He was like Hannah. He’d always hated guns. It wasn’t until this moment that he felt they had a place in this world.
Chris got out silently. He kept the ignition key in his hand and held it apart from the other keys on his ring. Carefully, he laid the key ring on the front seat, so that he could sweep up the ignition key without struggling to find it in the darkness. He eased the door shut with a quiet click. The gun nestled in his hand.
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