Funeral for a Friend

by Brian Freeman

Card exhaled in disgust. “An anonymous accusation. Anonymous. From almost thirty years ago. And that could be what costs me the election.”

  “It didn’t cost you the House election seven years ago. If we handle it right, it won’t now.”

  “Thirty years,” Card murmured.

  He eyed Peter across the table. A serious, regretful look came over his face, which was unusual. Peter had never known Devin Card to be troubled by self-reflection.

  “I’m not saying we didn’t do crazy things in college,” Card said. “There’s a lot of stuff I would take back. It’s the George Bush rule, you know? When we were young and stupid, we were young and stupid.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I’d like to think we’re better men now, Peter. Both of us.”

  “I’d like to think so, too.”

  Regret lingered on the Congressman’s face. “Some of those parties, shit. I don’t even remember them.”

  “Me neither. It was a long time ago.”

  “But I’d remember if I’d done that.”

  Peter realized that his friend was looking for reassurance. “Of course you would.”

  Card pounded back his brandy again. He wiped his mouth and got out of the chair. “I think we’re done here. They’ve got me in back to back meetings until midnight.”

  “One more thing before you go, Devin,” Peter said quietly. Using the Congressman’s first name always got his attention. “This time around, the accusation may not stay anonymous. We have to be prepared that the press will find her. Or she may decide she’s ready to come forward.”

  6

  Serena revved her Mustang up the sharp incline of 1st Avenue, barely pausing at the stop signs. If you stopped on the slope, you could feel the car starting to roll back down the hill. The streets of downtown Duluth were like a Midwest version of San Francisco, but with snow and ice added into the mix for six months of the year. There was nothing but July rain for her to deal with today, but the pavement was still slick. Her sports car was notoriously impractical in this area, but the Mustang was one part of her Las Vegas past that she refused to give up.

  Ahead of her, she saw Cascade Park, a steep patch of green land nestled under the high retaining wall of Mesaba Avenue. She spun the wheel and roared around the curves that wound to the top of the hill. When she got to the dead end, she saw Maggie’s Avalanche parked at a careless angle, which was how Maggie always parked. Serena squeezed her Mustang next to the truck and got out. She untied her pony tail, stretched her long arms over her head, and loosened her hips. From up here, the Duluth skyline unfurled below her, and she could see the finger of the Point peninsula jutting into the lake.

  Rain spat on her black hair. Her face was flushed. She’d been at a Michigan Street gym when Maggie called, and she still wore her workout outfit: cropped Lycra pants, a purple tank top, and neon pink sneakers. Her damp clothes clung to her curves like a second skin. Summer was the time when she tried to sweat off the extra couple of pounds that always crept in during the winter months; rain didn’t give her an excuse to skip a day.

  Maggie waved from the stone gazebo that overlooked the city. The tiny cop sat on the wall with her back to the skyline, pedaling her legs and sipping a supersized McDonald’s pop through a straw. The two of them had both passed the magic age of forty now, but somehow Maggie still consumed a daily menu of junk food without gaining weight. She didn’t even drink diet pop, just full-octane, high-fructose corn syrup in all its glory. Serena found it annoying.

  The two of them had had a complicated relationship from the beginning. For a while, they’d managed a wary friendship. Then, after Maggie slept with Stride, they’d become bitter enemies. Now, with the affair in the past and Stride and Serena married, they’d struck a kind of détente between them. They were both Duluth cops, and that meant they had to work together. They were both in Stride’s life, too, and that wasn’t going to change.

  Serena, who was six inches taller than Maggie, took a seat next to her on the stone wall, her pink shoes flat on the ground. Maggie held out the pop to offer her a sip, and Serena shook her head.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Serena said.

  “That’s what I was going to ask you.”

  Serena shook her head. “I don’t know a thing. Jonny called, but he didn’t give me any details. He said he had to meet someone and he’d fill me in tonight. He told me not to worry, but I’m worried.”

  “So am I. This whole thing is seriously messed up.”

  Serena shivered as the sweat made her cold. “So what the hell happened?”

  “K-2 put him on paid leave. Suspended him. Stride asked him to do it. He said he can’t be in the office while the Ned Baer case is under investigation, and he won’t tell me why.”

  Kyle Kinnick, Duluth’s deputy police chief, had gone by the nickname K-2 for most of his career. As long as Serena had known him, K-2 had run interference for Stride. They were a good team. K-2 loved the backslapping and backstabbing of city politics as much as Stride hated it. But the chief’s ability to protect Stride only went so far.

  “There’s an explanation for all of this,” Serena said. “There has to be.”

  “I agree, but I need to know what it is, if I’m going to help him. Did Stride ever talk to you about the Ned Baer case?”

  Serena held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger at Maggie. It was a cruel thing to do, given Maggie’s own history with Stride, but she didn’t care. “I’m his wife. Even if he told me anything about it, I couldn’t say a word.”

  “This isn’t a courtroom, Serena,” Maggie replied coolly. “You don’t have to pull spousal privilege on me. Come on, this is just you and me talking.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Whatever’s going on, there’s a reason Jonny chose not to tell you about it, so I’m not going to say anything either. If he’s on the outside in this case, so am I.” Serena looked around the park and made sure they were alone. “Besides, the truth is, I’m in the dark, too. Jonny never mentioned Ned Baer to me.”

  “Don’t you find that weird?”

  “Not really. This all happened the year before I came to town. It’s not like he rushes to tell me secrets from back then. You know him. I still have to drag things out of him, even after all this time. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what was going on between him and Ned Baer. I don’t know why he lied about it.”

  Maggie slurped her pop. “Seven years. Seven years, and all that time, Ned was buried in Steve’s garden. It’s crazy.”

  “If Jonny says he didn’t know the body was there, then he didn’t know.”

  “Maybe not, but he sure as hell knows something. I could really use your help. Nobody has to know that we’re talking. Not even Stride.”

  “Jonny wouldn’t like that. Neither do I.”

  “It’s for his own good. Look, you and I both know he didn’t kill anyone, but right now he’s the prime suspect. He was the last one to see Ned alive. He lied about their meeting, and he won’t tell me what it was about. And his best friend was so convinced that Stride killed the guy that he took away the body and buried it to keep him out of trouble.”

  “You tell me Jonny’s a suspect, and you expect me to help you?” Serena asked. “Come on, Maggie.”

  “I’d never sandbag him. You know that. I’m just saying he needs an ally on the inside, but I can’t be seen as helping him directly. That’s why I need you to point me where I need to go. Anything you tell me stays between us.”

  Serena hesitated. “I’ll think about it, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, think about this, too. K-2 is bringing in a special investigator to lead the case.”

  “It’s not going to be you?” Serena asked.

  “No. K-2 thinks I’m too close to Stride. The whole team is. He doesn’t want any accusations that we’re covering up for one of
our own. So he’s using an outsider to run the investigation, and I’ll be reporting to him.”

  “Who?”

  “You’re not going to like it. It’s Dan Erickson.”

  Serena slapped the stone wall with her hand. “Are you kidding me? Dan Erickson? Is K-2 out of his mind? No way he brings Dan back. I’m going to call him and get this stopped.”

  Maggie took hold of Serena’s arm. “Wait. Don’t do that. Interfering with K-2 will only make it worse. Look, Dan’s the former county attorney. Regardless of what we both think of him, he’s obviously qualified to do the job. Plus, everybody knows he hates Stride, so no one is going to think the chief is doing Stride any favors. That’s why he wants him.”

  Serena shook her head in disgust. Dan Erickson.

  Even hearing his name brought her back to the worst winter of her life. As county attorney, Dan had hired Serena to pay off a blackmailer who had unearthed the dirtiest secrets of Dan’s personal life. But the blackmailer had come to town with motives of his own, and Serena had nearly died at his hands in a fish house out on a frozen lake. Her body still carried the memories of that torture.

  She kicked up one of her bare calves that was mottled with discolored white streaks where she’d been burned by fire. “See those scars? I have those scars because of Dan Erickson.”

  “I know that, Serena. I know.”

  “You slept with him. Does K-2 know that?”

  “No, and he’s not going to, because if he finds out, he’ll take me off the case, too. And we need me on the inside, where I can keep an eye on Dan. He’s going to try to take down Stride if he can. I need to be able to stop him.”

  Serena stood up in frustration. “I can’t be here anymore.”

  “Don’t go yet. I get it, you have every reason to be upset about this. It pisses me off, too. But the only thing we can do now is find a way to have Stride’s back during the investigation. That means I need to know what he’s hiding. You can find out for me.”

  “I won’t betray him.”

  “You’re not betraying him. You’re helping him. Stride didn’t kill Ned Baer, Serena. Of course, he didn’t. But you think that’s going to matter to Dan if he sees a way to pin this on him? Look, Stride may not be the one who pulled the trigger, but he must have a pretty good idea who did. That’s why he’s not talking. He’s also a pigheaded son of a bitch who wouldn’t say a word, even if he ends up being the one to take the fall.”

  Serena stared at the ground. “I told you, no promises.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll do what I can. If there’s no other way to protect Jonny.”

  “Absolutely,” Maggie told her.

  “Keep Dan Erickson away from me. Otherwise, you may have another murder on your hands.”

  Maggie grinned. “Got it.”

  Serena marched toward her Mustang, ignoring the rain that washed over her. She tried to push aside her furious emotions and her bad memories and focus on the only thing that was important. Stride.

  She knew that Maggie was right.

  Jonny knew something about Ned Baer’s murder. That was obvious. His subconscious had been taunting him with dreams about it, even before Ned’s body was discovered. The only reason for Stride to lie was because he was covering for someone else, and Serena didn’t need to talk to him to know who that was. There was only one person he’d still feel an obligation to protect after all this time.

  His ex-wife.

  She’d been in those dreams, too. Like unfinished business.

  Serena had never met her. She’d avoided her for years, because she felt guilty about being the other woman in breaking up a marriage. Even a bad marriage. Serena had fallen in love with Stride, and Stride had fallen in love with Serena, but the reality for both of them was that he was still married when that happened.

  She couldn’t put it off any longer.

  It was time for her to confront Andrea.

  7

  “I’m telling you, this is a million-dollar idea,” Curt Dickes said to Cat. “It’s big. The biggest thing I’ve ever come up with. Colleen thinks so, too.”

  Cat lay on a blanket stretched across the rocks at the Deeps. A few lingering raindrops broke through the tree branches and landed on her bare skin. She closed her eyes and said, “Uh-huh.”

  She didn’t care what Curt’s new girlfriend thought about anything, and she didn’t want to hear him talking about her. She’d invited Curt to hang out specifically because he’d told her that Colleen had an art class on Monday evenings. So it was just the two of them near the river. She’d worn her sexiest bikini, the one Stride and Serena didn’t know she had. The tiger print cups barely contained her breasts, and the cool air had worked its magic on them. The bottom was a black thong that flashed her cheeks to the world. She knew she looked hot, but Curt had barely given her the once-over before he started talking about his latest get rich quick scheme.

  “Don’t you want to hear about it?” he asked her impatiently.

  “Uh-huh,” she said again.

  “Eyes … on … Duluth,” Curt said, pausing dramatically between the words.

  “What?”

  “We build one of those big wheels. You know, like they have in London and Las Vegas. We put it over in Bayfront park. Can you imagine the tourists, Kitty Cat? Everybody will come to see it! This will be like the biggest thing in the whole Midwest! Suck it, Chicago!”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t Chicago already have one of those things?” Cat asked.

  “I don’t know. Whatever. Maybe they do. Anyway, it will definitely be the biggest thing in Minnesota.”

  “But those things cost like millions and millions of dollars to build,” Cat pointed out. “Where are you going to get the money?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. I figure the business community will get on board, big time. The state, too. And the Indians, I mean, think of what it will do to the casino traffic. I just have to sell them on the idea and let them take over. They can do the rest. But I’ll keep the rights to the name and sell all the merch. T-shirts, magnets, snow globes, you name it.”

  “Eyes on Duluth?” Cat asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Nice to know you’ve got your eyes on something,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Hey, if it’s your project, why don’t you name it after yourself?”

  “After myself?” Curt said, looking puzzled. “Like what? What would you call it?”

  “How about the Big Dickes?” Cat announced, giggling uncontrollably.

  She expected Curt to laugh, too, but instead his face twisted into a sour expression. “I’m serious about this, Kitty Cat. This could be my big break, and all you can do is make fun of it?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, although she was still laughing. “Really.”

  Curt lay back on the blanket with his arms behind his head and stared at the sky. He refused to look at her. When she propped herself on one elbow and reached for his hand, he pulled it away. For a scam artist who liked to think he was cool, Curt was actually pretty sensitive.

  “Come on, Curt, I said I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It sounds like a great idea.”

  His head turned. “You really think so?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re not just saying that?”

  “I’m not. Eyes on Duluth. That’s a moneymaker.”

  He scrambled to his feet on the rocks. “I know, right? It’s huge!”

  Curt wandered to the edge of the cliff and peered down at the rapids of Amity Creek, which roared through the narrows below them. He wore a black muscle shirt—although he didn’t have much in the way of muscles—and a baggy yellow-striped swimsuit that hung to his knees. His feet were bare. He had tattoos over most of his body, and his straggly black hair fell below his shoulders.

>   Cat didn’t know why she liked Curt so much. He was part of her past, and there wasn’t much about her past that she wanted to remember. He helped her when she’d been on the streets, but the truth was, he hadn’t always been nice to her. He made her laugh, mostly because each of his big ideas was sillier than the one before. Curt wasn’t going anywhere in life, and she knew that, even if he didn’t. But most days, she didn’t think she deserved anyone better.

  She got off the blanket and came up beside him on the rocks. Spray billowed up like a cloud from the river, high enough to dampen her face. They were alone out here, and though the sun hadn’t set yet, it was shadowy and gray in the woods around them. The slight chill made her shiver. She thought about getting on tiptoes and kissing him and telling him that if he wanted to have sex with her, they could do it right now, right here on the wet grass. It didn’t have to mean anything, and his girlfriend didn’t need to find out. Cat was just lonely, and she wanted someone to make her feel good about herself.

  But she didn’t, because she didn’t want him to reject her. She was a coward.

  Instead, she said, “Got any weed?”

  Curt eyed his backpack on the rocks. “Yeah.”

  “Want to?”

  “I give you weed and Stride finds out, and I won’t be able to call it the Big Dickes anymore,” Curt said.

  Cat giggled again. “He won’t find out.”

  “Are you kidding? He probably knows already. He probably has that bikini of yours bugged, although I’m not sure where you could fit a bug on that thing.”

  “I didn’t think you even noticed it,” Cat said, putting her hands on her hips and arching her back.

  “Oh, I noticed, Kitty Cat. Believe me, you’re looking good. Too good. Thing is, I’m with Colleen now. She’s really great. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “Right. Sure.”

  “Sorry,” Curt said.

  “No, that’s okay. I get it. Does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?”

  “We’re hanging out now.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”