Love 'Em or Leave 'Em Dead

  “Please.”

  He answered after the first ring. “I was just going to call you. How’s Dallas doing?”

  “She’s home, hurting, but we’re thankful it wasn’t worse. What’s the skinny on the asshole?”

  “We talked to the girlfriend. He’s been staying with her, but she hasn’t seen him since this morning. She didn’t know he was ever married.”

  “Figures. Did she notice any scratches or anything?”

  “Yeah, a fairly large scratch on his hand. He said he got it while hiking on vacation.”

  “I hope you’re not parked in front of her place.”

  “No, down the street. We have an unmarked, anyway.”

  I gave him the two names Dallas gave me, then told him to stay in touch. I finished my beer, kissed the sleeping Dallas on the forehead, and went home to my ex, her friend, and my children.

  WHEN I ARRIVED HOME with wine in hand, Shannon was on the couch and Iris was setting the dining room table. I managed to ignore the mess in the kitchen and poured wine. Over cheese and crackers and wine, Shannon mentioned she felt so good she would stay no more than a few days. Once the mac and cheese came out of the oven, we took our places around the table. Although the kids devoured the mac and cheese, I thought it marginal. Iris shouldn’t cook.

  That evening after the kids were bathed and in bed and Brit disappeared up to her quarters, Iris and Shannon found some chick flick on television. And because I could stand it no longer, I cleaned up Iris’s cooking mess on the counter and stovetop and then scrubbed the sticky pots and pans, while she sat on my couch. After leaving the kitchen in pristine shape, I wished them a happy New Year, then excused myself and went up to bed.

  I gave Spanky a call—no sign of Palmer. They were staking out the girlfriend’s, and before they left for home they would run by the condo and his parents’ house.

  35

  Thursday, January 1, 2015

  AT 4:00 A.M. HENRY CRAWLED in bed with me. We both dozed off until six, when he stuck his finger up my nose. I grabbed a diaper out of the twins’ room then changed Henry on my bed. As I carried him down the hall, Bullet meandered out of Henry’s room where Luke was sleeping. Dogs were better at reading humans than humans were. He’s always seemed to sense Luke needed him. Or maybe he just liked him better than he liked me.

  Bullet followed us downstairs. I let him out and set Henry near the box in the corner containing his toy vehicles. He immediately pulled out his favorite big rig. I smiled at Henry’s growling as he rolled his truck back and forth over the wood flooring.

  I glanced around the room. I headed for the glasses and four bowls piled on the coffee table before Henry got to them. Two had been used for popcorn, but the other two contained a disgusting layer of melted chocolate ice cream. As I passed the counter, I noticed the empty microwave popcorn bag lying on the counter, spots of grease and popcorn kernels dribbled across the granite surface. I filled a sippy cup of milk for Henry, put cartoons on, and after letting Bullet back in the house, I began to clean up the new mess Iris and Shannon had left me.

  “Slobs.”

  “What?” Brit asked as she entered the room with Lucy in her arms.

  “Oh. Just talking to myself. Hey, Lucy girl,” I said and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Down,” she said, and she ran over to Henry to take his truck. He acquiesced to her frequently. He simply pulled another truck out.

  “When I peeked in to see if she was awake, she was standing in her crib.”

  “Henry crawls out of his now. She’ll soon be following suit.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “Well, that little bugger. Should I start breakfast? I could make French toast.”

  “Perfect. And I’ll clean up Iris and Shannon’s mess.”

  “Oops. They aren’t abiding by the house rules.”

  “Am I unreasonable to expect people to at least put their dishes in the sink?”

  “Not by my standards.”

  Luke wandered in asking for a cinnamon roll.

  “Cinnamon rolls?” I asked.

  “Eleanor Kohler brought them over yesterday,” Brit said.

  “I wasn’t made aware.”

  “That could have been on purpose,” she said with a smile.

  “It’s a stinking conspiracy.”

  She laughed.

  Spanky called to tell me Vince hadn’t returned to the girlfriend’s or his condo, and his credit cards hadn’t been used for forty-eight hours.

  “So he’s not staying in a hotel.”

  Shit. Was he in hiding or dead? Damn. I hoped Bobby hadn’t kill him. Really.

  SHANNON GOT UP AT NINE O’CLOCK, still clad in her pajamas. I brewed her a cup of coffee and placed a cinnamon roll on a plate for her. While she was eating at the counter, there was a knock at the back door. Iris. I let her in, and Brit and I shared a look.

  “Want a cinnamon roll?” Shannon asked her.

  “Yum,” she said and threw her coat over a chair and sat down next to Shannon. “I had to hide them from Cal, so there’d be some left for today.”

  I narrowed my eyes and said, “What else are you hiding?”

  She scrunched her face and said, “Nothing.”

  When they’d finished eating, they left their dishes and went to the couch. Iris picked up the remote and changed cartoons to the news.

  Luke sat up and said, “Hey, I was watching that.”

  Shannon said, “Go up to your dad’s room to watch your shows.”

  He stomped off. Brit and I exchanged another look, then she cleaned up their dishes.

  Iris left after lunch, and while Shannon and the Twinks napped, I watched football. Luke disappeared upstairs. I was sure he was on his iPod. Brit made a turkey dinner, and it was nice. Just the six of us—without Iris. After the babes were in bed that night, Luke, Brit, Shannon and I watched a Star Wars movie, and then we all went to bed early.

  36

  Friday, January 2

  BEFORE I WENT TO WORK, I stopped by the Bradleys’ to spend a few minutes with Dallas.

  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “The pills help, but then they put me to sleep.”

  “Well, Vince is nowhere to be found. Do you have any idea where he might go to hide?”

  “No, and I don’t think he’d dare to come back here.”

  “I could stay here tonight,” I offered.

  “No, Mom has her shotgun upstairs with us.”

  “Oh, great. Clara . . .”

  “Yes?” She poked her head around the corner.

  “Do you know how to shoot a shotgun?”

  “Yes, I do. I used to go grouse hunting with Dan all the time.”

  “Dad always said she was the better shot,” Dallas said.

  “This concerns me. If he shows up, you dial 911.”

  “Okay, Cal, sure.” She winked at Dallas.

  Dallas was cracking a smile. “We’ll be fine.”

  “You look like you feel better.”

  “I do.”

  I stayed with her long enough for a cup of coffee, then left for the hospital to speak with Grady LaMere.

  One of our deputies close to retirement was standing guard outside his room.

  “Hey, Ray, how’s it going?”

  “Gotta love this duty. Kid’s not going anywhere. He’s handcuffed to his hospital bed.”

  Ray opened the door for me and closed it behind me.

  Grady looked up. “I thought you might be my grandparents.”

  “Are they coming up to see you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You’re in a spot of trouble.”

  “I know. I’ve had my rights read to me.”

  “What did you tell Detective Rouch?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “I want to hear it from you personally.”

  “What? That I killed Zabrina’s grandmother? Well, it wasn’t me who pushed her in the water.”

  “Start from the beginnin
g,” I said as I turned on my iPad.

  THE REST OF THE DAY I did paperwork, made phone calls, and organized my evidence in the Sonya Donovan case. I had almost everything in line to present to the county attorney to bring all the players down.

  At five o’clock, I was headed home. I dreaded having to deal with Shannon and Iris. I liked Iris, I just didn’t like her around all the time—nor did I appreciate the mess they left in their wake.

  The house was unusually quiet. Brit was reading to the twins on the sofa when I walked in. The twins crawled off the couch and came for their bear hugs.

  “Where’s Shannon?” I asked as I held a twin in each arm.

  “Home. She left a note for you on the counter.”

  Cal,

  Thanks for letting us stay with you. I should have realized I wouldn’t need that much care, especially if I didn’t have to take care of the twins. Mom and Iris will help if I need anything. Luke was disappointed when I told him we were going back home. I think that’s huge, don’t you?

  Thanks for offering to have me stay. I need to talk to you about something—so call when you have time.

  Shannon

  I set the twins down, grabbed a beer, and called her.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “Well, first of all, thank you for letting us stay at your house.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true, but anyway, I’m rewriting my will. I hope you will agree that my parents get custody of Luke if something should happen to me.

  “Not me?”

  “He asked me if I was going to die. It broke my heart. I told him it was highly unlikely, but if it did happen, you’d take care of him. He objected. He said he’d rather live with my parents.”

  I didn’t know what to say. My heart was heavy. An awkward silence ensued.

  “He’s at their house until they head back for Florida.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You sound mad,” she said.

  “He always gets his way, Shannon. What are you going to do when he’s sixteen?”

  “That will be my problem, now, won’t it?”

  “And it will be a big one. By the way, it seems strange to me you never mentioned Iris was an old friend when we hired her as our divorce attorney.”

  “What? You don’t think you got a fair deal?”

  “That’s not the point. It’s like you were hiding you knew her.”

  “Don’t be silly. Anyway, she loves you and says I’m lucky you’re the father of my children. And now I should go lay down. I’m tired.”

  “You might want to be careful you don’t get Erica pissed off for taking all Iris’s time.”

  “Erica’s in New York with her family this week.”

  “When she gets back, then. Just sayin’. Be careful. Erica’s a tough girl.”

  I heard a sigh before the line went silent.

  THAT NIGHT AFTER THE KIDS were in bed, Brit and I found House Hunters: Caribbean Life on HGTV.

  “I could live there,” she said.

  “I fantasize lying in a hammock under palm trees.”

  “Maybe you should take a vacation in St. Thomas.”

  My cellphone rang—Spanky.

  “I have news,” he said. “I’m on my way to North Memorial Hospital. We had an anonymous tip saying Vince Palmer was staying at a mom-and-pop hotel in Brooklyn Park. HCSO agreed to send a unit over to check it out. The owner cooperated, opened the door, and lucky for Palmer they did. He was passed out on the floor, an empty bottle of vodka in his hand. He was using his dad’s credit card.”

  “I hope he doesn’t wake up and escape.”

  “They’re keeping an eye on him until I get there.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  I told Brit I was leaving and drove to the Bradleys’ to deliver the news.

  Clara answered the door in her pajamas and robe.

  “Sorry to come so late, but I have some news I wanted to deliver in person,” I told her.

  “About Vince?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come in. Dallas and I are watching a movie.”

  Dallas was stretched out on the couch, pillows behind her. When she first saw me she smiled, then, studying the look on my face, she dropped it.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  I told her what I knew.

  “Cal, I knew he was drinking again. On the day he assaulted me, the alcohol was coming out his pores.”

  “Has Spanky interviewed you yet?”

  “Yes, yesterday.”

  Clara said. “Speaking of which, I think I need a celebratory shot of bourbon. Anyone else?”

  “Not with pain meds, Mom,” Dallas said.

  “None for me either, thanks,” I said. “I can’t stay.”

  A few minutes later, I kissed Dallas goodnight and said, “We got him. You’re safe now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You love me. That’s everything.”

  “I wanted to beat him to shit.”

  “I know. It’s better this way.”

  37

  Monday, January 12

  I WAS ALLOWED TO RETURN to work from administrative leave after only one week. Patrice would be out until they ruled it a good shooting, which they would. My meeting with Spanky was first on my agenda. He outlined what he had on Vince Palmer: his DNA was under Dallas’s fingernails and on the doorknob and Billie’s collar, prints in the snow up to the Bradley house matched his boots found at the Palmers’ lake cabin, the weird bruise on Dallas’s cheek matched Vince’s college ring, and neighbors reported seeing a black Corvette with the license plate “VNC BA” parked one block from the Bradley house the morning of her assault.

  ‘You’ve done an excellent job, Spanky.

  “We’ve done an excellent job.”

  “Shh.”

  It was about ten o’clock in the morning when Sydney Dirkson, Hawk’s cousin, called me.

  “Did you hear the news?” she said.

  “No. What’s up?”

  “Mike was just handed a guilty verdict—voluntary manslaughter.”

  “I’m shocked. I thought he’d get off.”

  “Us too, especially after Nevada Wynn, a.k.a. Snake, testified Paul knew Norman Kramer intended to shoot Mike after the annuity check was cashed.”

  “But Snake’s an iffy witness.”

  “Yeah, that cobra tattoo wrapping around his head and body is not exactly Boy Scout stuff. I heard it ends at his penis.”

  “What I heard, too.”

  “Anyway, Mike’s attorney feels the judge was sympathetic because of the extenuating circumstances—Mike being held captive for three weeks and Paul doing nothing to help him. He has high hopes for a departure from the sentencing guidelines.”

  “How’s Barb taking it?”

  “Not well. She and Tom are at odds. I drove them to the courthouse and on the way home, she was going on and on about how it was your fault for not letting Mike speak to his attorney before turning himself in. Tom shouted at her to stop blaming you because you did what you had to do, and if the police bent the law for friends and relatives, what a mess this world would be in.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yes, wow. I was proud of him. Oh, and did you get my email on the information you asked for?”

  “No. Did you include the bill?”

  “I did. Cal, if you ever get tired of that side of the law, let us know. Pete says we could bring you in as a partner, expand the business.”

  “Oh . . . I’m not looking elsewhere at this point, but I like having options. You never know where life will take you.”

  I read the email, had what I needed, and made my way out to Patrice’s house on Island Lake. But when I drove by Cadillac Jack’s, I saw Zabrina’s Miata in the parking lot. I called Patrice to let her know what was going to occur and why.

  The bar was quiet at three in the afternoon. Zach Whitman’s elbows were re
sting on the bar; he was smiling at Zabrina, who sat on the stool across from him. I took the seat next to her, which halted her adoring gaze at Zach. They appeared shaken by my presence. His hand smoothly swiped Zabrina’s glass of beer away and replaced it with a clear soda.

  “I’ll have one of those,” I said.

  “Sierra Mist?”

  “Yes.”

  He poured the soda from the tap and set it in front of me. “It’s on the house.”

  “Thanks.” I took a sip.

  His eyes darted back and forth between Zabrina and me. She squirmed on the barstool as if she were sitting on a cactus.

  “Grady was well enough to be moved to the jail today,” I said.

  Both kids stared at me mutely, active concern in their eyes. Zabrina nodded as a delayed reaction.

  Zach finally said something to fill my purposeful silence. “How is he?”

  “He’ll know he was shot for quite some time, maybe forever, but he should be grateful he’s alive. You too, Zach.”

  He nodded.

  I cocked my head and looked at Zabrina. “Detective Ryan from Minneapolis PD, County Attorney Oliver Bakken, and I met with Grady today. He was offered and accepted a plea deal in exchange for information.”

  She squinted and licked her lips.

  “He gave us the co-conspirators and accessories to the two murders and my partner’s assault.”

  Zabrina’s eyelashes batted a mile a minute. God, I love this part of the job.

  “What does that mean for him?” Zach asked.

  “For him? Mmm . . . he’ll certainly serve less time than if he were convicted by a jury, and he would be convicted with all he’s confessed to.”

  Zabrina straightened her back. “Thank you for coming to tell me this. I’m relieved the truth will come out. And I should be going. Patrice is expecting me to help with dinner.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “First, explain something to me.”

  “Okay,” she said tentatively, sitting back on the stool.

  “Why did you agree to marry Grady, then suddenly change your mind?”

  She titled her head and looked me in the eye, as if a rehearsed move.

  “Wait. Let me read you your rights first.”

  Her cheeks brightened with color as I pulled out the card in my pocket and read it verbatim.