“He knew about—?”
She nodded. “Of course, he did. He was my doctor. I told him everything. Later, after Ned disappeared, I asked if he knew what had happened. He said no. He said he never saw you at the Deeps. There was nobody there, not you, not Ned, not anybody. But I always wondered in the back of my head if he was protecting you.”
Stride rubbed his fingers against his forehead, trying to push back a headache. “He was protecting me. Or that’s what he thought.”
“Maybe he protected both of us,” Andrea said. “Maybe he killed Ned himself.”
“Steve wasn’t a murderer.”
“Well, then I don’t know what happened.”
Stride nodded, because it made no sense to him either. He kept looking for an explanation and not finding one. Then he felt a buzzing on his phone and when he checked his messages, his face darkened with concern. He pushed back the chair and got to his feet. “Sorry, I have to go.”
“Of course, you do. There’s always something with you. Nothing changes.”
“It’s not me. There’s a problem with Cat. She’s a teenager who—”
“A teenager who lives with you,” Andrea said. “Yes, I know about her. I read the story in the paper last winter. Talk about another irony, Jon. You never wanted to have kids, and now you and Serena have a teenager.”
“That’s not true about me not wanting kids.”
“Oh, right. My mistake. You never wanted kids with me.”
Stride’s face clouded with anger, but he didn’t have time for an old argument. “I have to go,” he said again.
“So go.”
He hesitated before he headed to the front door. “Listen, about this thing with Ned Baer. I’m not running the investigation. Maggie knows that I lied to her back then. I haven’t told her what was really going on, but it won’t be hard for her to figure it out. I won’t be able to keep your name out of it this time.”
“I understand, Jon,” Andrea replied. “Believe me, I know what’s coming. As soon as you said the name Ned Baer, I figured my life was over.”
* * * * *
Serena waited in her Mustang, which was parked in the shadows two blocks away from Andrea’s house. Dusk had fallen, but there were kids playing basketball in the waning light. She could see the front of the house from where she was, and she could see Stride’s black Expedition parked outside, under the tall trees.
It confirmed to her that she was in the right place.
Whatever was going on, Andrea was in the middle of it.
Ten minutes after she arrived, she saw Jonny emerge from the house alone. He ran for his truck, fired the engine, and drove away at high speed. She thought about texting him to find out what was going on, but she didn’t want him to know where she was. Not yet. She needed answers before they talked.
Serena steeled herself for what lay ahead. In no universe did she expect the next few minutes of her life to be pleasant.
She got out of the Mustang and headed for Andrea’s front door.
9
Stride needed a flashlight to make his way to the Deeps. He swept the beam back and forth across the trail. Cat followed him, staying close enough that she could hang on to his belt. When they reached the cliff, wind howled through the gorge and the river rumbled with the low, angry growl of a tiger.
“You and Curt were up here?” Stride asked her.
Her voice was subdued. “Yes.”
“Jumping?”
She didn’t answer right away, and he waited without saying anything more.
“We jumped once,” she admitted finally.
Stride pointed at the wild rapids. “Do you know how easy it would have been for one or both of you to have been swept away and drowned? Do you know how many times in my life I’ve had to pull bodies out of the lake because they went diving in this place?”
“I’m sorry.” Then she zeroed in on his hypocrisy, the way she always did. “You used to jump here, didn’t you? You and Steve?”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
Cat didn’t rub it in, but they both knew she’d chalked up a victory. Every generation had to make its own mistakes. His father had warned him about the Deeps when he was fifteen, and he hadn’t listened either.
“Did you see anyone else while you were here?” Stride asked.
Cat shook her head. “No one.”
“Nobody crossed the pedestrian bridge? You didn’t see anyone in the woods on the other side of the river?”
“No, we were alone the whole time.”
“What about when you were down by the water?”
“Well, somebody had to be up here,” Cat said, “because that’s where they took the picture. But I didn’t see anyone.”
Stride shined his flashlight around the rocks. He illuminated the crevices and checked the dirt for muddy footprints. When he found nothing, he hiked back to the pedestrian bridge over the river. The rough gravel showed no evidence of anyone coming or going.
“Let’s go back to your car,” Stride said.
They retraced their steps to where Cat’s car was parked on the fringe of Seven Bridges Road. Max Guppo was there, along with a uniformed officer, examining the scene. Stride sent Cat across the street to wait in his Expedition, and then he gestured to Guppo. The oversized detective waddled up to him and offered a sympathetic smile. Guppo, who had five daughters, was familiar with the challenges of raising teenage girls.
“Find anything, Max?” Stride asked.
Guppo held up a plastic evidence bag that contained a can of green spray paint. “The guy left this behind. We can run it for prints and see if we get lucky, but I don’t think he’s going to make it easy for us.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, look at this.” Guppo showed Stride another bag, which contained a crushed, muddy mass of blue plastic.
“What’s that?”
“Shoe covers,” Guppo told him. “That’s why he didn’t leave any footprints we can distinguish. Normally the mud would give us some clear tracks, but not this time. And the fact that he left them behind for us to find? I think it’s kind of like sticking up a middle finger. He knew we’d be looking.”
“This guy knows Cat lives with cops,” Stride said.
“Could be.”
“What about tire tracks?”
“Nothing so far. He probably parked on the road. We’ll talk to the neighbors to see if they remember any cars, but kids park out here all the time.”
“Thanks for jumping on this, Max. I know there’s not a lot we can do, but this feels like more than just some creepy fan. I want to know who’s doing this.”
“We’ll do everything we can, boss.”
“I appreciate it.” Stride put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He’d worked with Guppo since the day he joined the Duluth police thirty years earlier. “And you know that at this particular moment I’m not your boss, right? I’m just a concerned citizen.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Stride smiled at him. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and headed across the road to his truck. Cat sat inside in the passenger seat. She didn’t look at him as he climbed behind the wheel. For an eighteen-year-old, she had the immature face of a little girl again, although Stride had learned through experience not to trust Cat’s girlish looks. He reached out and gently tugged on her chin and turned her face toward him.
“Hey,” he said. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I guess.”
“I know this is scary.”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Don’t worry about your Civic. I’ve got a buddy at a garage who can take care of it. After Guppo is done with it, he’ll get it towed and cleaned up. You should have it back by the end of the week.”
“Thanks.”
Stride gestured at the ph
one in Cat’s hands. “I need to see the picture.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Cat, I don’t care what it shows. The angle of the photo is important, and we may be able to get metadata off the image that will tell us who sent it.”
“I don’t want a bunch of cops staring at my tits.”
“I’ll make sure it’s only women doing the analysis,” Stride said.
“I don’t want you seeing it either.”
Stride took a deep breath. “Okay. You can hand your phone off to Serena when you get home, and she can work with one of the women on the CSI team. No men involved at all. How about that?”
“I suppose.”
“Let’s talk about who could be doing this to you,” Stride said.
“I have no idea.”
“Do you still have the envelope and the photograph that was sent to you with the green marker on it?”
Cat nodded. “It’s at home.”
“You should have shown that to me immediately.”
“Dr. Steve had just died. I didn’t want to bother you. I told you, I get weird stuff sometimes. Most of it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Well, this one crosses the line way beyond weird stuff, Cat. Particularly if you think someone broke into our house and was in your room. That kind of obsession is dangerous. I’m not saying that to scare you. I just want you to appreciate the seriousness of it.”
“I do now,” she said.
“Okay, then let me ask you again. Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
“I really don’t, Stride.”
“This photograph you got. The one with the local postmark and the green marker. Have you received anything similar to that before? It doesn’t matter whether or not it was local. Have there been any letters, pictures, threats, anything that could have come from the same person?”
“I don’t think so. This one was different. It felt different. It wasn’t like the others.”
“How so?”
“I’m not sure. It just felt more real.”
“I want to go through all of the mail you’ve received,” Stride said. “There could be something you missed.”
“I toss most of the porn crap and the hate mail,” Cat told him.
Stride frowned. “From now on, don’t do that. When you get anything like that, show me. Or show Serena. And we’ll still need to go through whatever you have, even the seemingly innocent letters. There could still be something in there.”
“Yeah, all right.”
“Whoever is doing this knows things about you, Cat. He showed up here tonight. Who knew you were getting together with Curt?”
“Nobody.”
“Did you notice anyone following you?”
“No, but I don’t think I would have.”
“Have there been any strange cars parked near our house lately?”
“I don’t know. I mean, a lot of tourists go up and down the Point. There are always different cars around.”
“Have you met anyone lately who took an unusual interest in you?” Stride asked. “Even if it was a very brief encounter. It could have been entirely random for you, but not for them. Has anyone made you feel uncomfortable?”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Most men are like that with me. You don’t know how many creeps are out there, Stride.”
“I get it. But no one stands out? No one who was a little creepier than usual?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, here’s the thing, Cat,” Stride went on, knowing he was about to endure a firestorm of protest. “Until we figure out who this person is and evaluate the nature of the threat, I don’t want you leaving the house alone. When you’re alone, you’re at risk. What happened tonight proves that.”
“Stride! No!”
“I’m sorry. I’m not taking any chances with your safety.”
“It’s summer!” Cat replied unhappily. “What do you want me to do, be a prisoner stuck inside all the time? That’s not fair!”
“I’m not saying you have to stay inside, but I’ve arranged protection. If you want to go somewhere, he’ll drive you. Wherever you go, he goes.”
“Oh, great. Another cop babysitter. The last one was fatter than Guppo and ten years older. He wheezed trying to keep up with me. You think that’s going to keep me safe? Can’t I just agree not to go out alone? If I want to go somewhere, I’ll meet friends.”
“You mean friends like Curt? No. This isn’t negotiable, Cat. It’s a done deal. I already put out a call for volunteers in the department, and I found someone willing to help. His name’s Brayden Pell. He’s off-shift for the next few days, so he can be with you anytime. I’m sorry if it puts a crimp in your social life, but that’s the way it is.”
“I hate this,” Cat said.
“I’m aware. Would you prefer it be me taking you everywhere? Would that be less intrusive?”
Cat frowned. “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” Stride said with a smile. “Listen, give Brayden a chance. I’ve only met him once or twice, but I think you’ll like him.”
“Yeah, sure. When does Officer Nanny get here?”
Stride pointed to the other side of the road, near Cat’s car, where a sunshine-orange Kia Soul, with a squat, boxy frame, pulled up behind Guppo’s cruiser. “Brayden texted me he wasn’t far away. I think that’s him now.”
“Are you kidding?” Cat asked. “A freaking orange Kia? I’m sorry, you want me driving around in a dork car like that? Come on Stride, if you just let me hang by myself, I promise that I’ll—”
She stopped talking.
The door of the Kia opened, and a man in his late twenties got out, bathed in the glow of Stride’s headlights. He had to unfold his legs to pry himself from the front seat, because when he stood up, it was clear that he was taller than six feet. He had blond hair shaved very short on both sides of his head but long and swept back on top. He had dark eyes, pale stubble on his beard line, and a sharp V-shaped chin. He wore an untucked dark blue jean shirt, sleeves rolled up, buttoned to the top, and tight fitting khakis. His build was lean but strong. He spotted Stride’s truck and waved with a relaxed smile.
“Wow,” Cat said under her breath, drawing out the word.
“That’s Brayden Pell. Think you can manage to let him hang around with you for a few days?”
“Wow,” Cat said again.
Stride chuckled. “I’ll take that for a yes.”
10
“Ms. Jantzik?” Serena said when Andrea opened the door. “My name is—”
“I know who you are,” Andrea interrupted. Her blue eyes were hard, and her voice had all the ice of a Duluth January. “I’m not Ms. Jantzik anymore. I haven’t been for years. Jantzik was my name when I was married to my first husband. I’m Andrea Forseth now.”
“Of course.”
“I was also Andrea Stride for a while, but you know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You’ve got a fucking lot of nerve coming here,” she went on.
“I realize this is awkward—”
“Awkward? Is that what you call it? The bitch who stole my husband showing up at my door?”
“If I could just explain—”
“Does Jon know you’re here?” Andrea interrupted again. “He just left. Is this supposed to be some sort of good cop–bad cop routine? First him and now you?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Serena said.
Stride’s ex-wife folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, so what, were you following him? Are you afraid he’s cheating on you? Sleeping with me? That would be pretty ironic, wouldn’t it?”
Serena felt slapped, but she hadn’t expected anything less. “I’m really not here to talk about me and Stride, Ms. Forseth.”
“Well, that’s
too bad, because I want to talk about it. I’ve wanted to talk about it for six years.”
Serena nodded. “Okay. That’s fair. Say whatever you want.”
“I want to talk about you coming to Duluth and fucking my husband. Jon and I may not have had the best marriage, but that didn’t give you the right to spread your legs for him.”
“You’re right,” Serena admitted, doing her best to stay calm.
“You and your showgirl hair and big tits. Is that the way women get their men in Vegas? Because here in Minnesota, we call that being a whore and a slut.”
“I understand that you may feel that way, and I don’t blame you.”
“I know what happened between Stride and Maggie, by the way. I saw that one coming a mile away. How did it feel, him cheating on you?”
“Awful. It felt awful.”
“Good. Now you know how it was for me. Like I was dirt. Like I was worthless. And you married him anyway? Even after he slept with her? You’re brave, thinking he won’t do it again.”
Serena waited for Andrea to run out of venom. This wasn’t a time for explanations. She could have talked about the walls that she and Jonny had built for themselves, about the guilt and grief that had shadowed their attraction, about the many mistakes they’d both made on the way to realizing they were meant to be together. But none of that mattered. Not to this woman.
“I’m sorry,” Serena said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. That’s all. I have no excuses. I’m six years late in apologizing. Jonny did that a long time ago, but I should have done it, too. In person. He and I made a terrible mistake back then. He felt that your marriage was over, and I think you felt the same way, but I was wrong to allow myself to get in the middle of it the way I did. I won’t tell you that I feel bad or that I would take it back, because the fact is, I found the love of my life and I married him. But I’m still sorry.”
Funeral for a Friend Page 7