Funeral for a Friend

by Brian Freeman

  “Does Serena know?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What would you do if you didn’t go back?”

  “I have no idea. I may feel differently about it tomorrow.”

  Cat leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Thank you. I feel better talking about it.”

  “You make me feel special when you open up to me,” she said.

  “Well, you are special.”

  “I’m sorry for yelling,” she added.

  “Don’t worry about it. Sometimes that’s what it takes to get through to me.”

  “I meant what I said. I’m older now. I’m not a kid.”

  “I know that.”

  She looked down uncomfortably at her lap, and her voice took on a whole different cast. “I love you, you know. I always have.”

  Stride knew what she was saying. Her meaning was very clear.

  He felt the delicacy of this moment, which as fragile as old china. He knew how easily he could hurt her, how profoundly he could damage their relationship if he patronized her or simply pretended that she meant something other than what she did. He had never been under any illusions about Cat and the sexuality hiding behind her feelings. That was part of who she was. When she’d first come into his house two years earlier, she’d made a clumsy attempt to seduce him, and after he shut her down, she’d never done anything like that again. But her feelings for him were still jumbled and confused by everything she’d been through in her life.

  He took her chin and lifted it up so that she had to look into his eyes, which she didn’t want to do. Her expression was full of shame. She was already regretting what she’d said, as if she wanted to squeeze the genie back in the bottle.

  “Do you know who I love?” he asked her.

  “Serena,” she said.

  “That’s right. I love Serena. But that’s not to say I don’t love you, too. It’s in a different way, but every bit as deep. You know that. You’re like a daughter to me, and I never thought I’d be lucky enough to know what that felt like.”

  Cat nodded, biting her lip. She scooted away from him and wiped her face. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You were being honest.”

  “I hope somebody loves me like you love her. Someday.”

  “Believe me,” he told her. “Somebody will.”

  * * * * *

  Stride very rarely got drunk, but that night, he decided that he wanted to get drunk. He took two six-packs of Bent Paddle onto the screened porch at the back of his cottage, and he sat on the old sofa and stared out at the darkness. The lake roared at him from behind the dunes, like an invitation to come to the beach, but he didn’t even have the energy to walk outside and climb over the sand. He simply opened the first beer and drank half of it down.

  Then, as if to remind him that drinking was a foolish plan, a tapping on the glass of the storm door interrupted his solitude. He looked over and saw Curt Dickes outside, shuffling back and forth on his feet as if dancing to music that only he could hear.

  Stride groaned and got off the sofa and opened the door. “Curt. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Lieutenant. Can I come in?”

  “Oh, sure,” Stride replied acidly. “Why not?”

  Curt wandered into the porch with his hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy shorts. He had his long, greasy black hair tied behind his head, and he wore a black T-shirt from Fitger’s Inn. His eyes shot to the six-packs on the table next to the sofa. “Golden IPA,” he said. “Cool. Can I have one?”

  Stride rolled his eyes. “Knock yourself out.”

  Curt grabbed a can of beer and popped the top. He slouched on the sofa and stretched out his long legs. “How’s Kitty Cat? I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

  Stride sat down on the sofa, too. “She’ll be fine.”

  “Good. Good. That’s great. I like her, you know. I like her a lot. Not that I’d ever touch her. No way. We’re friends, and that’s all.”

  Stride smiled. “You don’t have to worry about me, Curt. Serena’s the one to be concerned about.”

  “Oh, yeah. This I know.”

  “So what do you want?” Stride asked.

  “Well, like I said, I wanted to check in about Cat. I figured you might be pissed about her running off with Colly. That’s Colleen, my girlfriend. By the way, just so you know, your boy Brayden didn’t do anything wrong. He was watching her like a hawk. I mean, really watching. But Cat never met a man she couldn’t outsmart.”

  “I’m aware,” Stride said.

  Curt squirmed restlessly on the sofa. He drank his beer fast. When he was done, he eyed the six-pack again, and Stride shrugged. Curt belched and took another. “Word is, you can’t really do anything about Wyatt stalking Cat. Not legally, I mean. No proof.”

  “For the moment.”

  “Uh-huh.” Curt rolled the cold beer can around in his hands, and Stride could tell he was nervous. “You know, I like you, Lieutenant. Always have. Even when you’re arresting me, you play fair. Maybe more than I deserve. Plus, you’ve got the hottest wife in town. Props for that.”

  “Thanks,” Stride said warily.

  “You’re Duluth born and raised, like me. We lifers have to stick together, right? We help each other out. Somebody’s in trouble, we do something about it.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning if you can’t touch Wyatt, maybe I can, know what I’m saying? I’ve got friends. No names or anything. But if you want the guy whacked, I can probably make that happen. Absolutely off the books. It would never come back on you.”

  Stride felt a headache coming on. He rubbed his fingers against his forehead. “Curt, did you really just go to a police officer’s house and offer to have somebody whacked?”

  “Hey, if you want, I could just have him roughed up. To send a message, you know?”

  “I’m going to do both of us a favor and forget you ever said any of this, Curt. Okay? Just to be one hundred percent clear, you are not to touch Wyatt or solicit anyone else to harm him in any way. Got it?”

  Curt shrugged. “Got it.”

  “Do you really? This is not a wink-wink kind of thing. Stay away from him.”

  “Yeah, okay. I was just thinking about Cat. I want to help her. Really.”

  “I get that, Curt.”

  Curt finished his next beer and belched again. He pushed himself off the sofa, but rather than leave, he stood on the porch looking uncomfortable.

  “Is there something else?” Stride asked.

  “Sort of. This isn’t about Cat. I don’t know if I should say anything.”

  “Well, it can’t be worse than what you’ve said already.”

  Curt’s lips pursed into a frown. “Except this involves kind of an on-

  going enterprise that could get me into trouble.”

  “Give me a clue. If it’s not about Cat, what’s it about?”

  “That guy you found. Ned Baer.”

  Stride sat up straighter. “Talk to me.”

  “I would, except it might be bad for business.”

  Stride got off the sofa and put a firm hand on Curt’s shoulder. “We’ll call my porch the immunity zone. You get a free pass for anything you tell me here. What’s going on?”

  Curt’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Okay, here’s the thing. You know I have a lot of entrepreneurial ventures. Some a little more legal than others. One of the things I do occasionally—and I’m talking very occasionally, hardly ever—is help people acquire handguns without a lot of red tape about permits and all. Especially out-of-towners who may be under time constraints about their purchases.”

  Stride’s headache began to get worse. “I’m regretting my offer, Curt.”

  “Seriousl
y, it’s not often. Not anymore. In the old days, it was a bigger part of Curt, Inc., but not now. Anyway, the thing is, seven years ago, this guy Ned Baer bought a gun off me.”

  “Ned bought a gun?” Stride asked in surprise. “Are you sure it was him? That was a long time ago.”

  “I’m sure. His photo was in the paper, and I remember him clear as anything. When I met him, I was wearing a ZZ Top T-shirt, and he told me he was a roadie for the band back in college. So we spent a couple of hours comparing notes.”

  “Do you remember the gun you sold him?”

  “H&K 9 mm. That’s mostly what I sell.”

  “Did Ned say why he wanted a gun?”

  Curt nodded. “Oh, yeah. He wanted protection. He said somebody was following him, and he thought they might try to kill him.”

  22

  Maggie had never met Devin Card before, but when the Congressman walked into Peter Stanhope’s office early in the morning, she could feel the electricity that he conveyed. You could hate politicians on television, but it was very hard to hate them face to face. His handshake was solid. His blue eyes were like lasers. His smile was focused on her and no one else, making her feel like the only person in the room. Plus, he was a big, handsome former quarterback, infectious in his self-

  confidence.

  She had to remind herself: Blood and semen on the sheets.

  “Sergeant, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Card said. “I don’t need to tell you how important the work you do is. It’s an honor whenever I meet a police officer. And the team here in Duluth is truly the best.”

  “Thank you, Congressman.”

  Card’s gaze shifted to Dan Erickson as if they were old friends, and he shouldered his way around the conference table with a big grin. “Dan, look at you, that suit, that tan. Making the most of the corporate deals, I see. You and Peter, I swear. If I’m reincarnated in my next life, I want to come back as a lawyer.”

  “Funny, I think I’d come back as a politician,” Dan replied.

  “Oh, no. You dodged a bullet, Dan. Trust me, it’s like walking around with a permanent target on your chest. All you do is spend half your days and nights dialing for dollars.”

  Maggie heard the subtext in Card’s comment. Once upon a time, Dan had been the golden boy with political ambitions and a shot at Congress, but then his career had imploded. She could see from the frozen expression on Dan’s face that he hadn’t missed Card’s meaning.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” Peter Stanhope interrupted them. “We know the importance of your investigation, and we wanted to make sure you had a chance to ask your questions.”

  Dan took a seat on the opposite side of the conference table, and Maggie sat next to him. “You mean, so you can tell everyone how cooperative you’re being?” he asked.

  “We are being cooperative, Dan,” Card replied with a smile. “We have nothing to hide.”

  Peter interjected again with his typical smoothness. “Look, the Congressman and I appreciate your willingness to have this conversation in my office and particularly for the two of you to come up here via the back elevator so that we don’t have the media crawling all over us. In politics, how things look are often as important as how they really are.”

  “Understood,” Dan said. “Well, here we are. Let’s get started.”

  Maggie took out her phone. “Congressman, do you mind if we record this interview?”

  Peter spoke again before Card could reply. “I mind, Sergeant. I’m sorry. Confidential recordings have a way of becoming not so confidential, even with the best of intentions. We have plenty of witnesses in this room to anything that’s said, so let’s stick with that.”

  She shrugged and took out a pen instead, and she opened a folder in front of her. “All right. Congressman, can you tell us where you were on the evening of Tuesday, August 24 seven years ago? We believe that’s the night that Ned Baer was shot to death at the Deeps.”

  Card said nothing, but Peter pushed a piece of paper across the table at them.

  “As you know, that time period was in the middle of a heated political campaign. Here’s a copy of Devin’s official schedule from that day. You’ll see that he had a fundraising dinner that evening at a private home in Cloquet at six-thirty.”

  “And after that?” Maggie asked.

  “I have no idea,” Card replied. “Typically, I’d be making phone calls to supporters until after midnight. On that specific evening? I couldn’t possibly remember.”

  “So you have no actual alibi after, say, nine o’clock?”

  “No, I’m sure I do have an alibi, because I was almost never alone that summer. I just don’t know who was with me that night.”

  “What about you, Mr. Stanhope?” Maggie asked. “What were you doing that evening?”

  “I checked my calendar for that night,” Peter replied. “I figured you’d ask. I was here at the office preparing for a trial until very late.”

  “Would anyone be able to confirm that?”

  “No. I was working alone.”

  “So no alibis for either of you,” Dan concluded, with a glance at Maggie.

  The Congressman rocked back in the chair, his arms behind his head. “I suppose I should say this at the outset, since this is why we’re all here. I didn’t kill Ned Baer. I didn’t arrange for anyone else to kill Ned Baer. I have no idea who did kill Ned Baer. Is that clear enough for you?”

  “Very,” Dan replied. “Peter? What about you?”

  “Same.”

  “See?” Card told them. “It’s that simple. Are we done here?”

  “I’m sorry, Congressman,” Maggie told them, “but it’s not quite that simple. We have more ground to cover.”

  Card shoved back the chair and got up from the table. He talked and moved quickly, as if he were always in a hurry, and his impatience made it impossible to sit still for any length of time. “I really don’t see how we can help you, Sergeant. I just told you that neither Peter nor I know anything about this man’s murder. It had nothing to do with me.”

  “Well, no offense, sir, but that’s almost certainly not true.”

  Card froze. “Excuse me?”

  “We all know why Ned Baer was in town,” Maggie reminded him. “He was investigating rape allegations that had been made against you. He wasn’t from Duluth; he was an outsider. So it’s a good bet that whatever happened to him was somehow connected to the research he was doing on you. That’s why we’re here.”

  Card’s warm blue eyes turned to stone. “False rape allegations.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “He was investigating false rape allegations. I never raped anyone.”

  Maggie stared back at him, and she felt herself stiffening with anger. “For now, the question of the rape is outside the scope of our investigation. All I’ll tell you, Congressman, is that you should probably be grateful that’s the case.”

  Card opened his mouth to object, but before he could say anything more, Peter interrupted sharply. “Hang on, hang on, what are you saying? Do you know who made the accusation? Have you identified the woman?”

  “Yes,” Dan replied.

  “Who?” Card and Peter both shouted simultaneously.

  “We’re not releasing that information at this time,” Dan told them.

  But Maggie felt her rage bubbling over, and she couldn’t keep her mouth closed. “We know who the woman is, Congressman. Not only that, we know where the rape occurred, and we have a witness who saw blood on the sheets in an upstairs bedroom, all of which supports the original allegation. We also believe that Ned Baer had a witness who saw you with the victim at the party where this all occurred. So forgive me if I tell you, as one of your constituents, that I think you’re full of shit.”

  Card put his hands on his hips and didn’t back down. “I don’t know what information you thi
nk you have, but it’s wrong, Sergeant. I am sick of these lies. I am sick of this dirt being spewed against me. I don’t know who this woman is, or what happened to her, but she’s either lying or she’s mistaken. If Ned Baer told anyone about a witness who said otherwise, then that’s a lie, too. This is all political filth, Ms. Bei. It’s about destroying politicians for sport. Do you know what kind of man Ned Baer was? Did you investigate his history as a journalist? He wrote stories based on gossip and innuendo, and he didn’t care whether it was true. His goal was to destroy candidates based on his political agenda. Period. He was a worthless, lying piece of shit, and I’m sorry somebody blew his brains out, but the world is a better place without people like him.”

  “Devin,” Peter snapped. “Dial it back. Calm down.”

  “No, I won’t calm down, Peter. I’m sorry. These accusations have been chasing me for years, and they’re bogus. They’ve been ruining my life. My family has had to put up with daily stories about what a monster I am. My children have had to read this! Hell, seven years ago, someone assaulted me on the street. And all over an anonymous allegation that has zero basis in fact.”

  Dan’s brow furrowed. “Someone assaulted you?”

  “That’s right. We kept it out of the press, because we didn’t think it would help my image, the former football star being sucker punched. We said I fell on the sidewalk. But the truth is, somebody jumped me outside the Sheraton and beat the shit out of me.”

  “Who?” Maggie asked.

  “I don’t know. He wore a mask. And do you know what he said to me? Forgive every sin. What the hell does that even mean?”

  “Devin,” Peter said again. “Enough.”

  The Congressman finally realized he’d let his emotions carry him away. He unleashed a hiss of annoyance and then sat back down at the conference table without looking at Dan or Maggie.

  Maggie let the silence stretch out for a while, and then she said, “So obviously you knew who Ned Baer was.”