Love 'Em or Leave 'Em Dead

  “That’s Zabrina Bennett. The bartender she’s flirting with is her boyfriend’s roommate, Zach Whitman.”

  “Jack Whitman’s grandson?”

  “Yep.”

  “Hmm. I think her boyfriend has something to worry about.”

  “Her boyfriend is history, anyway. But my question is, is this a new thing, or has it been going on, maybe behind Grady’s back?”

  “Beats me, but they’re kissing.”

  I leaned into Dallas; she leaned out farther. “Interesting,” I said.

  “Their names both start with Z. She’ll think that’s cute.”

  “Young love is fickle.”

  “It is.”

  “I wonder if he knows she’s with child.”

  “Maybe it’s his.”

  “Jesus.”

  My name was called over the speaker, and as we exited the bar, I waved at the two Zs, who didn’t seem to be thrilled to see me. Zabrina’s Miata was still in the parking lot when we left.

  LATER THAT EVENING, as Dallas lay sleeping in my arms, I pondered the two Zs’ relationship. Moriah Moore said she met Zabrina last summer. Did Zabrina know Zach before she met Grady? Did they hang out together when they were both up in Dexter Lake when Grady wasn’t around? I wasn’t sure it mattered.

  Dallas and I spent the weekend at my house, and I rested up for what was sure to be one hell of a week.

  32

  Monday, December 29

  FIRST THING MONDAY MORNING I called Ed Lindgren in Robbinsdale to see if he was back from vacation. His secretary, Susan Knoll, was going to see what she could find out about the footage from the security cameras around the vet’s office where Grady worked. She said Ed extended his vacation until January 2, and she hadn’t had time to check on it. This was the frustrating part of investigations—waiting on others, especially civilians living their private lives without concern about my investigative needs.

  I erased Waldo David and Patrice from my suspect board and added Robert Quinlan and Marvin Moore. I also wrote Grady LaMere’s name, followed by a question mark. Then I met with Spanky and Crosby and assigned them tasks for the next two days, because tomorrow was Shannon’s surgery day.

  WHEN DALLAS CALLED AROUND NOON, I invited her to come to my place for dinner. She declined.

  “Isn’t Shannon staying overnight because she has to be at the hospital at 6:00 a.m., and you’re the one driving her?”

  “Yes. Does that bother you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “How about I pick up some takeout and head over?”

  “I’m really beat tonight. Besides, you should focus on Shannon—she needs support and encouragement this evening.”

  “I have the Twinks for the foreseeable future while Shannon recovers, so you may have to be brave and come to my place.”

  “I’m not afraid to come, but it’s uncomfortable for all of us.”

  “Shannon has to accept the idea I’ve moved on, like Vince will. Has he bothered you lately?”

  “No, thank God.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  After I hung up, I had the distinct feeling Dallas didn’t like how involved I was in my ex-wife’s life.

  Tuesday, December 30

  I HADN’T CAUGHT THE WEATHER and news, so the new half inch of snow on the ground caught me by surprise. I left a note on the counter asking Clara to have Luke shovel the sidewalk.

  Shannon’s lumpectomy was scheduled for one o’clock, but she was to have an ultrasound first to insert a lead wire to the tumor site, then radioactive dye would be injected. The dye would follow the path the cancer would take to the nodes and direct the surgeon to which nodes to remove first for pathology. We’d have hours to wait for the dye to work.

  We left at 6:00 a.m. After checking in, Shannon was taken back to prepare for surgery. I would be called when she was situated in a pre-op room. I took the opportunity to text Dallas good morning. She didn’t answer, so I assumed she was in the shower or getting ready for work.

  Within twenty minutes, I was called back to wait with Shannon. She had changed into a gown and had an IV line hooked up. We made small talk until her parents arrived at 8:45. Shortly after, Clara called. “Have you spoken with Dallas this morning? The clinic called and said she didn’t show up for work, and she’s not answering our home phone or her cell. I’m worried.”

  “I’ll go check on her right now.”

  “Thank you. Then call me.”

  When I disconnected, I noticed Shannon and her parents had been eavesdropping on my conversation.

  “What’s wrong?” Shannon asked.

  “It’s something I need to take care of.”

  She nodded, her brown eyes revealing disappointment, which made me feel like an ass. I touched her hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Adrenaline rushed through my body, my heart thumping as I made record time getting to the Bradley house.

  There were no tire tracks in the driveway, indicating she hadn’t driven her car out, nor did anyone drive in. However, there was a set of footprints to and from the street to the front door. I parked behind Dallas’s Subaru, then entered the back porch. I knocked on the door leading into the kitchen. Willie was barking like crazy, but Dallas didn’t come to the door. I tried the knob and found it unlocked.

  As I stepped inside, Willie continued barking but didn’t run to greet me as usual. I made my way through the kitchen and dining room calling out to Dallas. I shouted her name again and heard nothing but Willie barking. It sounded like he was in the guest bedroom, located off the living room. When I opened the door, a growling mass of black and white fur tore out. He followed his nose, sniffing about the room, then ran toward the sun room off the living room and veered left.

  I found Dallas on the floor curled into the fetal position. Willie lay by her side. She had an arm around him. The light filtering in from the row of windows cast light on her face, which was swollen, bruised, and bleeding. What the hell?

  I crouched down beside her and kissed her forehead. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her hands were shaking and her skin was cool to the touch. As I gave the details to 911, I yanked a crocheted afghan from the chair nearby and gently covered her. She was fully clothed for work: jeans, turtleneck, smock with paw prints on it.

  I knelt by her side. “Where do you hurt?”

  She pointed to her rib cage.

  “Was it Vince?” I asked.

  She nodded. “He wore . . . black face mask . . . but I saw . . . his eyes.” Her voice was a whisper full of pain.

  “I hope you scratched him.”

  “I tried . . . maybe I got his hand.”

  “Good. We’ll do a nail scraping. How did he hurt you?”

  “Pushed me down . . . punched and kicked me . . . over and over.”

  “I’m sorry, baby, to keep asking you questions, but what time did this happen?”

  “I was . . . ready to leave . . . for work.” She winced and uttered a halted sigh.

  Willie whined and leaned forward to lick Dallas’s hand. She patted his back. She lifted her head. “He kicked . . . Willie, too. Can you . . . take him . . . to Doc Foster?”

  Vince, you asshole, you are dead. “Of course. Lie still now. We’ll finish talking about this later.”

  I told her I was going to photograph her for the report. I snapped five before she asked me to stop. I stroked her hair and said, “They’ll take more at the hospital to document your injuries.”

  “Okay.”

  I had to preserve the footprints to and from the front door. When I heard the first siren, I went outdoors and directed the first responder, Deputy Greg Woods, up the drive and to the back door. The ambulance was right behind. When the EMTs exited, I motioned for the techs to also enter though the back door. Billy Henderson and Erica Baker, my neighbor Iris’s girlfriend, pulled out the ambulance cot. She handed Woods a bag, and all three entered the Bradley home without uttering a word and followed me. The ambulance cot ratt
led as they wheeled it across the wood floor.

  As we approached, Willie stood and wagged his tail; his heavy panting was a clear sign of distress. Not only was his master hurt, but he also was most likely injured because Vince, the asshole, had kicked him. When dogs had pain they didn’t show it like humans.

  Woods crouched down to pet the dog. “He’s a handsome boy,” he said.

  “He’s such . . . a good dog,” Dallas said as she squeezed her words through her pain.

  “He was a rescue dog,” I said. “They’re both lucky to have each other.”

  Erica began questioning Dallas as to where she was feeling pain while she took her blood pressure and pulse. They asked her if she could roll onto her back onto the stretcher, which they had collapsed to just inches off the ground.

  Dallas winced as they moved her with gentle efficiency onto the ambulance cot. Billy called to alert the hospital to an “incoming” on his walkie. Woods and I supervised her transfer into the ambulance. Erica was with her in the back, and before Billy shut the door I said, “Because this was an assault, make sure they bag her clothes, and do a nail scraping.”

  “We got it covered, Cal. Betty from the crime lab is meeting us at the hospital to gather the evidence.”

  “Thanks.”

  I then called Clara and told them Dallas had been hurt and taken to the hospital. I told her I’d come home and stay with the kids, so she could go to the hospital.

  WOODS AND I STOOD TOGETHER and watched the ambulance pull out, our breath forming clouds of vapor, a second later another filling its space. When they were out of sight, Woods studied my face. I guess he was watching the unexpected tears roll down my cheeks. I wiped them off with my coat sleeve.

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve seen enough of these things to know she’s gonna be okay.”

  “Yeah, it’s just hard to see someone you care about hurt.”

  “For sure.” He gave me a single pat on the back. “Look, I should probably take off,” he said. “You want me out of the crime scene, anyway. Right?”

  I smiled and gave him a half-hearted shrug.

  “Do you have any idea who did this to her?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I hope you nail the bastard.”

  “I plan to.”

  I called Patrice. She listened to what I had to say about Dallas’s assault. I included why I suspected her estranged husband.

  “Well, maybe it is him, but Clara should make sure nothing is missing. Regardless, you can’t investigate your girlfriend’s assault. Austin will take the case. You can be in the background guiding him, but officially it’ll be his. I’ll call him right now.”

  “Thank you.”

  I waited a few minutes before I called Spanky. I told him about the footprints to make sure our lab techs brought Sirchie Snow Impression Wax, an insulating medium between the heat-generating casting material and the surrounding snow. He needed to take the impressions before the sun melted the prints.

  Next, I called Prairie Veterinary Clinic and told them what had occurred. I was told to bring Willie in through the back employee entrance.

  I didn’t want Willie to have to jump up into my truck, and as I lifted him to the passenger seat, he yelped. I petted his head and said, “I’m sorry that asshole hurt you, little buddy. Doc Foster will take good care of you.”

  Dallas always brought him to work with her. He’d be comfortable there. Doc Foster met me at my truck with a cart. He said I was to assure Dallas she should take all the time she needed, and that they’d take care of Willie as long as needed.

  WHEN I WALKED IN MY back door, Clara was just inside. She had the terrified look of a mother of an injured child.

  “Dallas was assaulted. I found her on the sunroom floor.”

  She gasped.

  I put a hand up. “She’ll be okay, but she’s hurting. Go to the hospital now, and I’ll stay with the kids until I find someone else to watch them.”

  As Clara rushed out of the house, I noticed Luke sprawled on the sofa attached to his iPad as if it was an appendage. With all that had gone on this morning, I’d temporarily forgotten he was there. Last night was the first night he slept in his old room since Shannon moved them back to their old house. They would be staying with me until Shannon was well enough to go back to her place, however long that would be. Henry’s crib was temporarily back in Lucy’s room.

  “They’re getting your mom ready for her surgery now. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

  “Grandma Donna’s going to call me. Where’s Clara going?”

  “To the hospital. Her daughter’s been hurt. That’s why I’m home—so I can find someone to watch you and the Twinks. Then I can go back to the hospital to be with your mom.” And Dallas.

  “Why don’t you call Brittany? Mom and I saw her at the coffee shop. She’s home from college.”

  “You are a genius, Luke.”

  He shrugged and tried not to smile, but the twitch of his lips gave him away. He liked being smarter than his “adoptive” dad, which was how I overheard him referring to me to a friend.

  “By the way, Luke, I noticed you shoveled the sidewalk. Nice job.”

  Another mouth twitch. I pulled out a ten-dollar bill out of my wallet and put it on the coffee table. No, I don’t think parents should pay children to do chores around the house, but Luke was a different kind of kid—the ten bucks was behavior modification, and also I was trying to get him to like me again, as pathetic as that sounded. I should have started a tally chart with how many mistakes I was making with this kid.

  Brittany Hackett had been our nanny before Clara. She worked for us for the two years she attended the community college in town. One quick phone call and Brit was packing a bag and on her way over. Because she made it a point to stop by when in town, the twins knew her. She was a lovely, smart young woman, who came from a dysfunctional family. Her mother was a nice lady, but weak and had horrible taste in men. Her main squeeze, Kent Silva, was in and out of corrections, and her sons were trying to live up to their daddy’s criminal accomplishments. Brit managed to rise above shitty parenting to shine on her own accord. But then again, she had a different biological father than her brothers.

  Twenty minutes later, Brit deposited her small bag by the door, and I said she should take her old efficiency third-floor apartment.

  “Doesn’t Clara use it?”

  I lowered my voice. “Nope, she took . . . Colby’s old room.”

  “Oh.” She got that sad look everyone did when his name was mentioned. “Anyway, I don’t have to be back at school until the end of January, so I can be here until then if need be.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  Brit was a sunshiny soul. Her blond ponytail bounced as she danced across the room to sit next to Luke. Smiling, she rubbed the top of his head, mussing his hair. He grinned up at her.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi. It’s so good to see you,” she said, and hugged him. He hugged her back. I felt a stab of jealousy at how easy it was for him to relate to Brit. I understood his keeping me at a distance was a control issue, but it still hurt.

  “Well, I should get back to the hospital.”

  “Okay,” Brit said. “Don’t worry about a thing here at home. We’ll be great. Right, Luke?”

  “Right.” They did a fist bump.

  “Hey, Luke, will you take care of Bullet?” I asked.

  He nodded without giving me eye contact. The Twinks were down for their naps. I snuck a peek at their beautiful sleeping faces before I went back to the hospital.

  33

  CLARA WAS IN THE ER WAITING ROOM, her face a window to her worry. I sat beside her and patted her hand gripped onto the arm of the chair.

  “How’s our girl?” I asked.

  “I’m waiting out here while she’s having tests.” She looked at me, her blue eyes welling with tears. “She looks awful.”

  “I know,
but she’ll be okay.” When I put my arm around her, she started to weep. Within a few minutes, Nurse Shelly Newcomb came out and sat in the chair adjacent to Clara.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  Clara bobbled her head. “I’m okay. How’s Dallas?”

  “She has four broken ribs, and she’s in line for an MRI to rule out other internal injuries.”

  “Will she have to have surgery?” Clara asked.

  “The MRI will tell us that,” the nurse said.

  When alone again, Clara stared straight ahead and said, “She said it was Vince.”

  “What time does your mail come?”

  With a look of puzzlement, she answered, “In the afternoon. Why?”

  “There were no tire tracks in your driveway before I drove in, so whoever hurt her walked in and left footprints in the snow.”

  She knitted her brows. “That’s good, right?”

  “Right. He must have parked down the block and walked up to the house.” “So his car wouldn’t be spotted in our driveway.”

  “Exactly. He was wearing a mask, so we need to eliminate the possibility it was a home invasion or robbery. I’ll drive you and bring you back right away.”

  “I can’t leave now.”

  “The crime lab needs to get in. It’d be helpful if we knew if anything was missing from the house.”

  She sighed deeply and went to find Shelly to tell her she’d be gone for a short while.

  CLARA AND I DID A WALKTHROUGH of her house. She looked in all the places where their valuables were kept, including the small safe tucked in the back of a basement cabinet. She declared nothing missing and clicked it shut.

  “You should move your good jewelry down here to the safe,” I said. “Bureau drawers are the first places burglars look.”

  “I want to go back to the hospital. Now.”

  When Spanky pulled up onto the Bradleys’ driveway, Clara was already sitting in the car, so I spoke with him only briefly before heading back to the hospital. We’d traveled an entire block before Clara said, “Deputy Spanney is awfully young. Is he going to be able to handle this?”