Spilled Blood

by Brian Freeman

  The ground shifted beneath them like an earthquake, and they both toppled onto the roof. Hannah rolled away on the wet tiles, and he jumped and caught her leg as her torso spilled past the edge of the house over the water. She screamed, but he pulled her back and pinched his fingers against the gable, trying to hold on. He looked down at the river and knew it was eating away the soft land under the foundation, hollowing out the earth and filling it with water, creating stresses on the wooden frame that would rip the structure apart and pull it down piece by piece.

  The house was dying.

  ‘It’s going to go soon,’ he said.

  They looked toward the sky. Olivia was being pulled to safety inside the helicopter. Chris made a frantic downward motion with his hand. They needed the sling back on the roof. Fast.

  The house belched out an awful grinding noise. It lurched downward, and he lost his grip. He clung to Hannah and dug in his heels on the slippery roof as gravity worked against them, forcing them down the sharp angle of the frame. There was no way to stand, no way to keep his balance. He heard wood and metal tearing.

  Overhead, through the perfect sky, the harness descended inch by inch, foot by foot. He watched it come and willed it to come faster. The wind spun the sling like a pinwheel, dancing in hypnotic circles. He reached for it, and it teased him, blowing out of his grasp. It swung away and began to swing back. Below him, he heard windows shattering. The house sank.

  He reached again. This time, the wind swept the harness into his hands.

  He felt as if he were in a fun house, with the steep angle of the roof tilting under their feet. Awkwardly, like a clown, he stepped into one leg hole of the sling, then the other, and leaned into the harness. The red strap dangling from the helicopter was heavy and thick.

  Hannah lay next to him, clinging to the roof. He reached for her.

  ‘Take my hand,’ he said.

  Take my hand.

  In that moment, his life rewound. He took Hannah’s hand and led her to bed in his college dorm and made love to her. He took Hannah’s hand and lifted her veil and watched the face of the woman who made his life worth living. He took Hannah’s hand and heard the cry of their daughter for the first time as she made her way into the world.

  He took her hand. He didn’t need to say it, but he said it anyway.

  ‘I love you.’

  She came into his arms. He lifted her up, slid her into the sling, facing him, and held on with a grip that said, I’ll never let go. The cable above them went taut, and their legs hung free, and they were airborne, flying, rising. Below them, with a lion’s roar, the house split apart. Where they had been sitting, the roof opened up, beams breaking, floors caving, walls crashing. Hannah heard it, but she couldn’t look down. She couldn’t watch the river dismember generations of her past and wash it away. She buried her face in his chest. He witnessed the wreckage growing smaller as they rose, watched all the fragments fall, and by the time the strong hands of the helicopter crew pulled them inside, the house was gone, and there was nothing to see below them but the river, rampaging over the valley like an uncaged animal.

  55

  Chris sat in a folding chair near the wall of the high-school auditorium. He drank a paper cup filled with Red Cross lemonade and ate a dry butter cookie. Cots and sleeping bags lined the glossy floor of the gym in neat rows. The school smelled of rescue. Vats of pasta and red sauce simmered on food trucks. Portable lavatories lined up like cheerleaders on the football field. He smelled the body odor and sweat of people crammed together in close quarters. No one cared; no one protested. Barron and St. Croix had become a single town of survivors. The feud was over.

  It had been three days since the flood. The waters were slowly receding. He expected to see a dove carrying an olive branch, signaling that they could find land again. In its wake, though, the real scope of the devastation became clear: homes and buildings reduced to rubble or erased from the landscape; highways six inches deep in mud; hundreds of displaced families. Despite the loss, he’d heard not a word from anyone about giving up or walking away. In the Midwest, you prayed, you shrugged, and then you got to work.

  He watched Hannah and Olivia. Hannah went from family to family, checking on their health, explaining the relief services that were available. Olivia, her foot in a cast, balanced on crutches, managed to play with young children in the gym by bouncing an inflatable beach ball from boy to girl in a big circle. He saw Glenn Magnus, too, comforting those who had lost everything.

  Losing everything felt lucky to the people in the gym. If there was a miracle, it was that the losses were limited to homes, possessions, memories, and jobs. Florian was dead. Marco was dead. Lenny was dead. Everyone else had escaped with their lives.

  ‘Mr. Hawk.’

  Chris saw Michael Altman standing over him. He almost didn’t recognize the county attorney, who wore a bulky wool sweater and corduroys rather than his usual crisp business suit. He didn’t have his fedora perched on his head, and his graying hair needed a comb.

  ‘Mr. Altman,’ he said.

  The county attorney sat down next to him. His hands were on his knees. He followed Chris’s eyes to his ex-wife and daughter in the auditorium.

  ‘I’m relieved that you and your family are safe,’ Altman told him.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I understand Johan Magnus is recovering in a hospital in Granite Falls.’

  ‘That’s right. When Olivia’s not here, she’s there.’

  ‘I’ve been watching your wife and daughter. They seem to have a boundless energy. They’ve helped a lot of people.’

  ‘Them and the volunteers who dropped everything to come here from around the country. It revives a little of my faith in human nature.’

  ‘Mine, too.’

  ‘I’m sad about Marco Piva,’ Chris admitted. ‘I genuinely liked him. I’m horrified by what he did, but I can’t bring myself to hate him. Losing someone you love can eat away your soul.’

  ‘Speaking of Marco,’ Altman murmured.

  Chris frowned. He knew what was coming. He’d been thinking about it since the flood. He’d known that it wasn’t over since he learned that Marco Piva was the man known as Aquarius.

  ‘I have a problem,’ the county attorney continued.

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘I’m reluctant to bring it up in the current circumstances, but I felt I should discuss it with you. Regardless of what’s happened, this disaster doesn’t erase that a murder was committed.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Chris said.

  Altman looked pleased that Chris wasn’t fighting him, but his face was uncomfortable.

  ‘I was prepared to believe that Aquarius murdered Ashlynn Steele,’ the county attorney went on. ‘Whether it was part of his vengeance against Florian, or whether Ashlynn simply discovered who he was as she poked into the affairs of Vernon Clay and Lucia Causey, I really thought the girl’s death was different than what I originally believed.’

  ‘I believed that, too,’ Chris said.

  ‘However, I didn’t know at the time that Marco Piva was Aquarius.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Marco didn’t kill Ashlynn,’ Altman said. ‘You realize that, don’t you?’

  Chris said nothing. He knew it was true. He knew Marco was innocent, at least of that death. In a way, he was glad. Even if Marco had destroyed the towns of Barron and St. Croix, even if he had deliberately blown up himself and Florian Steele, he hadn’t been cold or cruel enough to stare a beautiful young girl in the face and shoot her in the head. He wasn’t that kind of man.

  ‘Johan was with Marco at the motel until after midnight on the Friday night that Ashlynn was killed,’ Altman said. ‘He left when a plumber arrived, and I found the Barron plumber who got the emergency call. He confirmed that he spent most of that night working with Marco on the pipes in the motel room. And drinking Chianti, too, I gather.’

  ‘That sounds like Marco.’

  ‘You know where I’m go
ing with this, don’t you?’

  ‘I think so,’ Chris said.

  ‘It means we’re back where we started. There are still only two explanations for Ashlynn’s murder. I don’t like either answer, but I’m left believing that Olivia really did kill Ashlynn, as it appeared from the beginning. Or Johan Magnus did.’

  ‘Lenny Watson was in the ghost town that night,’ Chris said. ‘He was following Olivia. He saw her walk away. Ashlynn was alive.’

  ‘Unfortunately, Lenny is dead,’ Altman said. ‘He can’t tell us what he saw.’

  ‘I know. What about Kirk’s murder? The same gun was used in both crimes. How do you explain that?’

  ‘You know I can’t rule out the possibility that Olivia shot Kirk,’ Altman told him. ‘She certainly had a motive to do so. Or it’s possible that she gave Johan the gun, so he could do it for her.’

  ‘Or Johan had the gun himself all along, because he picked it up in the ghost town that Friday night,’ Chris said. ‘Right?’

  ‘Yes. That’s possible, too. I’m not saying I’ve made up my mind what really happened. We’ll be running forensics, and hopefully that will shed light on the truth. I just thought you should know that I’m not dropping the case. It’s my job. I’m not going to let a girl’s murder go unpunished.’

  ‘I never thought you would,’ Chris said. He leaned his back against the gym wall and closed his eyes. He was tired.

  ‘Obviously, this will all take months,’ Altman said. ‘Off the record, it may never go anywhere. I can assess reasonable doubt as well as any jury, and you have my word I won’t bring a case unless I believe the evidence supports it.’

  Chris opened his eyes. ‘Have you talked to Julia Steele since the flood?’

  ‘Julia? No, I haven’t. Why?’

  ‘I have,’ Chris said.

  Altman waited in puzzled silence. Chris could see the question in the man’s eyes.

  ‘You’ve always been honest and open with me, Mr. Altman, and I appreciate it. The voters around here put a fine man in charge. However, in this case, you’re wrong. Olivia didn’t kill Ashlynn. Neither did Johan. They were just three teenagers caught in a love triangle.’

  ‘Teenage emotion can be overwhelming. And dangerous.’

  ‘Yes, it can, but that’s not why Ashlynn was killed.’

  ‘I’d like to believe you, Chris. Really, I would, but the evidence doesn’t point any other way. Marco didn’t do it, so either Olivia or Johan must have pulled the trigger. No one else even knew Ashlynn was there.’

  Chris shook his head. ‘Not true. Someone else knew.’

  Altman thought about it. ‘Well, all right, Tanya Swenson knew.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Chris said. ‘She called Olivia from her home that night, and they talked about the fact that Ashlynn was still alone in the ghost town. Alone and alive. Tanya knew.’

  56

  When Chris saw Tanya go inside the high school, he went out into the frosty air and weak sunshine of the late afternoon. The smell of the river was oppressive, even on the bluff. Rollie Swenson was alone. The young attorney sat on top of a green park bench, staring into space. He wore a windbreaker and a baseball cap, and his shirt was untucked under his jacket. His gray pants were stained, and his shoes were caked with dirt. Like everyone else, Rollie was homeless.

  Chris sat down next to him. ‘Hello, Rollie.’

  The other attorney didn’t take his eyes off the horizon. He took a bite of a chocolate donut. ‘Chris.’

  ‘Terrible days.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How’s Tanya?’ he asked.

  ‘Stronger than me,’ Rollie said. ‘She’s been spending a lot of time with Olivia again. It helps her to have a friend.’

  ‘I know. I’m glad.’

  They sat in silence. Rollie finished the donut and licked his fingers.

  Chris found himself growing angry the longer they were together. He was angry about everything that had happened to Olivia. Angry about the waste, the loss of life, the loss of innocence. Angry about the ripples that had destroyed the lives of so many others.

  ‘Did you know Marco Piva?’ he asked Rollie.

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘I did. It was a tragic thing. He was a decent man.’

  Rollie snorted. ‘Decent? You’re kidding.’

  ‘No, it’s true. Decent men can do abominable things.’

  Rollie gave him a strange look and didn’t reply.

  ‘I wonder what I would have done in his shoes,’ Chris said. ‘Florian blackmailed his wife, exploited her weakness. The guilt she felt must have been unimaginable. After all, she met the parents in St. Croix, right? She talked to them. She saw what had happened to their children. The ugly, slow, awful deaths.’

  ‘Yes, she did,’ Rollie said. ‘She interviewed all of them.’

  ‘She could have given them comfort and closure, and instead she covered up what had been done to them. In the end, she couldn’t live with the lie. It destroyed her. It destroyed Marco, too.’

  ‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?’ Rollie asked.

  ‘No, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy, living your life in the grip of a horrible addiction.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. ‘Florian was a master of manipulation. He was like that in law school, too, finding people’s pressure points, twisting the knife. I wonder how long it took him to find Lucia and figure out how he could influence her. I guess most people have dirty secrets if you know where to look.’

  Rollie stared coldly at Chris, and then he checked his watch. ‘I should go find Tanya.’

  The younger attorney began to climb off the bench, but Chris stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. ‘One thing bothers me, Rollie. Ever since I found out the truth about Lucia, I couldn’t understand how Florian could be so sure that the judge would pick her to be the special master in the litigation.’

  ‘I imagine he approached her after she was selected,’ Rollie said.

  ‘Florian? No, he was much smarter than that. He only agreed to have a special master appointed because he knew Lucia Causey would write a report that exonerated Mondamin. He would never take a risk on the judge picking someone who couldn’t be compromised. I checked her property records. Lucia started getting money shortly after the lawsuit was filed. Florian had her in his pocket from the beginning.’

  ‘They fooled everyone. It was a good plan.’

  ‘Yes, it was, but only if the judge actually selected Lucia,’ Chris said. ‘Of course, if the plaintiff and the defense put the same name on their lists, it was a lock that the judge would pick her. I know why Florian put Lucia on his list of special master candidates. She was the one he wanted. So I’m curious. Why did you put Lucia on your list, Rollie?’

  Rollie’s eyes were dead calm. He was a lawyer, unfazed by cross-examination. ‘She had the credentials. There aren’t many epidemiologists with the expertise to handle a project like that.’

  ‘It was just an accident? A coincidence?’

  ‘It must have been.’

  Chris shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Florian didn’t bet the future of his company on a coincidence.’

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you, Chris. I used freelance researchers to provide me with names for my special master list. Maybe Florian got to them.’

  ‘Maybe so.’ Chris let the silence linger. ‘You know, something else has been bothering me, too.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s the note that Aquarius sent you,’ Chris said. ‘Aquarius warned you to keep quiet. He didn’t want Tanya talking to the police about what Ashlynn had told her. About her digging into her father’s secrets. About the proof she had.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So why would Marco think that Tanya knew anything at all?’

  Rollie hesitated. ‘Ashlynn must have told him.’

  ‘No, Ashlynn called Tanya on the night before she was killed, remember? She was in Nebraska. She never made it back hom
e. There’s no way she told Marco.’

  ‘Maybe she said something to him while they were in the ghost town,’ Rollie said.

  ‘You mean when he killed her?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I thought that, too. It made sense when we didn’t know who Aquarius was, but now we do. The trouble is that Marco didn’t kill Ashlynn. He had an alibi. He wasn’t there.’

  Rollie frowned. ‘Well, he found out somehow. He was afraid that Tanya knew enough to expose him.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think Marco knew anything about Tanya.’

  ‘Then why did he send me that note?’

  ‘That’s easy. He didn’t. The note was a fake.’

  ‘A fake? Why would someone go to that trouble?’

  ‘Not someone, Rollie. You. You faked the note. You needed a reason for Tanya not to tell anyone about Ashlynn’s phone call. You needed to be able to explain why you didn’t tell the police about that call. Aquarius gave you the perfect excuse. You were afraid your daughter was in danger.’

  ‘What are you saying, Chris?’ Rollie asked, but he knew. He couldn’t hide it.

  ‘I’m saying that the phone call from Ashlynn was your worst nightmare.’

  ‘That’s crazy.’

  ‘Is it? I’m trying to imagine what was going through your head when Ashlynn called. Did she only talk to Tanya, or did Tanya give you the phone? It must have been a shock. Here was Ashlynn talking about her father covering up Mondamin’s role in the deaths in St. Croix, and she says she can prove it now. Did she give you any specifics? Did she mention Lucia Causey? I bet she did.’

  Rollie’s face was stone. He said nothing.

  ‘Poor Ashlynn,’ Chris went on. ‘She thought she was telling the one man who could help her. She thought she was giving you a chance to go back into court and be a hero for the people of St. Croix. She was willing to betray her father and expose his corruption, but she had no idea that exposing Florian meant exposing you.’

  ‘Exposing me?’ Rollie asked impassively.

  ‘Florian didn’t just blackmail Lucia,’ Chris said. ‘He blackmailed you, too.’