Love 'Em or Leave 'Em Dead

  “There. Now that we got that over with, why did you change your mind?”

  “It was the pictures you showed me of his creepy parents.”

  “But you had met Robert before. Or was it the day Robert came to pick you and Grady up at the Logan house to take you to the airport? My partner refused to let you go, and Robert hit her with a fry pan from the kitchen.”

  “Yes. Maybe it was then.”

  “Why didn’t you report the assault to us?”

  “I was afraid Robert would hurt me.”

  “Zabrina, did you realize you didn’t ask me who killed your grandmother and mother?”

  “What? Well, be . . . because I assumed it was Robert and Grady—that’s why they were arrested. Right?”

  “Right. Grady thought by marrying you he’d become a rich man.”

  Her lip curled in a snarl. “God, I hate him. I hate them all.”

  I smiled. “Grady hadn’t realize he’d been manipulated until you dumped him for Zach. Then it dawned on him—you were the catalyst for both murders.”

  Zach’s mouth dropped open. He closed it, swallowed, and made his way down the bar and scrubbed the surface in wide circles.

  Zabrina followed his movements with a panicked stare. Abandoned, she fixed her eyes on me, gathered herself, and said, “I broke up with Grady because I didn’t love him anymore, and that’s the truth.” She’d sputtered her words, tears building in her eyes. “Whatever he said about me was to hurt me for breaking up with him. You do know that, right?”

  “Let me tell you what I know. Your friends said you were tired of your grandmother’s control. You wanted to go to UCLA, but she threatened to cut you off if you didn’t go to Hamline. She even chose your activities in high school to assure your acceptance to her alma mater. Oh, on a positive note for you, Grady swore neither of you knew Robert was going to shoot you and your mom. I believe him. That was a big surprise for both of you.” I pointed a finger at her. “Maybe that’s when you actually changed your mind.”

  “You have to be intelligent enough to know Grady is trying to get back at me for choosing Zach over him.”

  “Maybe so, but I’ve got more. On the night your grandmother was killed, Grady used your car to go to work. Security cameras near Hawley’s captured him arriving in the Miata. However, just before midnight, he left and didn’t return until 6:00 a.m. That’s some dinner break. Now here’s the part I especially like. One of Zach and Grady’s neighbors saw him pick you up after midnight.”

  “That’s not true. It must have been someone else.”

  “You rode up to Dexter Lake in the Miata with Grady. You let him, Robert Quinlan, and Marvin Moore into your grandmother’s house. You and Grady went directly into the pool and started making a ruckus.” I pointed at her. “And that was your idea, little lady.”

  She started to rise. “I’m not listening to this garbage.”

  “Sit back down,” came a voice from behind us. Patrice.

  Zabrina complied.

  “Your grandmother woke up when she heard the noise,” I continued. “She saw you and your boyfriend out her bedroom window overlooking the pool, and she came down. But Robert and Marvin were waiting just inside the door to sweep her up and throw her in the pool. You were out the door before she even hit the water—so you wouldn’t have to watch her die. Robert’s brilliant contribution was to convince you and Grady it had to look like natural causes. He wanted to poison her—he even looked up untraceable poisons on his computer—but it was your idea to drown her. She was a non-swimmer and only a few people knew that.”

  “Lies, all lies. I loved my grandmother. Tell him, Auntie Patrice.” Her face began to contort.

  Patrice rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “Don’t even think about bawling. It doesn’t work with me,” I said.

  Her mouth turned upside down, her eyes fiery with rage.

  “According to Grady, his mother started this whole thing in motion when she suggested he knock you up.”

  “Oh, please,” Zabrina said as she rolled her eyes, still not understanding the gravity of her situation.

  “Poking a hole in the condom worked. The problem was the murder plan—which grew from your hatred of your grandmother.” I lifted a finger. “Don’t deny that.”

  “Who said that? Sarah? She never did like me.”

  “Not Sarah. Your friends,” Patrice said.

  “Back to your plan. It wasn’t well thought out—too many players, too much evidence left for us to find. For example, your roommate, Amber, found a damp Josie Natori silk nightgown in a plastic bag in the wastebasket in your dorm room. She kept it because she thought it was pretty and expensive. She was right—it retails for $495.00.”

  Zabrina was watching me in the mirror behind the bar now.

  “Amber never told you because she thought you’d make fun of her. Erica packed a Josie Natori nightgown for Sonya when she went to the Dexter house. And, by the way, Granny was wearing a Fitbit watch. After the watch reset at midnight, Granny walked sixty-four steps, which is about the distance from her bedroom to just inside the pool door. I tested it. Grady says he took it off of her and put it in her drawer, which is where I found it. It’s these little details which make my job interesting.”

  Zabrina pulled lips into a tight pout. Tears began streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t wail.

  “Did you really think Grady would take the rap for you?” Patrice asked.

  “He said he would . . .” sniff, “because of the baby. He said he’d love me forever.”

  “Forever, huh? Well, maybe you can write each other love letters in prison. And by the way, my guess is Zach, who’s managed to already distance himself from you, was only in it for the banging. Now, let’s have you put your hands behind your back.”

  PATRICE FOUND ME IN my office after Zabrina was booked. She sat down in Tamika’s chair, waiting for me to say something, I waiting for her. Tears were streaming down her face.

  “Zabrina’s one angry little girl. She’s on suicide watch because she threatened to kill herself. She has no idea how much she’s screwed up.”

  “How does that happen? How does a kid of privilege not understand what she had going for herself? She never saw the flip side of life?”

  “She was sheltered from unpleasantness, but I must say she wasn’t one bit of trouble until she graduated from high school. She started partying, staying out all night. I suspected she was breaking free of the chain.”

  “The chain?”

  “Sonya was tough on Justine, therefore, Justine was soft with Zabrina, who was fairly easy to raise: sweet, compliant like her mother. But Sonya was always controlling from the sidelines. Her meddling certainly backfired.”

  “I don’t like blaming the victim. Something’s wrong inside of someone who can kill their grandmother, I don’t care how tough they are.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. Oliver says he’s going to ask for no bail—he’s afraid she’ll flee or hurt herself. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with her.”

  I nodded.

  “I never thanked you for keeping David’s affair out of the news.”

  “Only because you gave Waldo an alibi. Truthfully, I had considered you’d lie for him.”

  “I’d never lie about something so serious. I didn’t advertise his DUI, but I wouldn’t lie about it if asked.”

  “And I know that.”

  “He’s accepted a position with 3M and is moving to St. Paul.”

  “That was quick.”

  She nodded. “I’m on leave for at least another three weeks. I’m using it to get Sonya’s and Justine’s affairs in order.”

  THAT EVENING WHEN I WAS finally able to return home, I relished the faces of my beautiful children. Their cheeks were the color of cotton candy; their perfect innocence washed away the face of evil and filled me with a sense of all that was good.

  38

  Sunday, January 18

  INVITED MY FAMILY OVER for Sunday b
runch, which Brit and I put together. I served Eleanor’s cinnamon rolls, an egg dish, and a fruit plate.

  Grandma Dee and her live-in boyfriend, George, were the first to arrive. They let me know they were headed to the casino right after they ate. Bobby and Mom arrived shortly after. He carried in two pies, and Mom gave me a large, thick envelope.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “My memoir manuscript.”

  I frowned and put my hands in my pockets. I didn’t even want to touch it.

  “You might want to read it, Cal,” Bobby said. “It’s quite entertaining.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  My mother pushed the envelope into my stomach. I lifted my hands in the air.

  “Are you letting Grandma Dee read it?”

  “Might as well—in case it gets published. I titled it My Wild and Crazy Life,” Mom said.

  Grandma Dee said, “Will I have to move out of the state?”

  “You might,” Mom said, grinning.

  “Then I better see what she wrote about me,” Grandma said, grabbing the envelope.

  During the meal, Bobby and I kept eyeing each other. I had questions, but I needed our conversation to be private. The opportunity didn’t arrive until after Grandma Dee and George left to throw their money at the casino and Mom was reading the kids stories before their naps. I asked Bobby to come along on Bullet’s walk.

  We didn’t get ten steps before he said, “You want to know if I had anything to do with Palmer’s apprehension?”

  “Yes.”

  “I followed him when he left his girlfriend’s place. He went to the liquor store. He came out, I gave him a long-time-no-see hug and whispered in his ear to get in the car. We drove to a vacant parking lot a few blocks away.”

  “A little strong-arming?”

  “You can call it strong-arming, I call it getting him to listen to reason. Anyway, we had a long chat. I laid out what we needed from him—to immediately sign over to your sweetie the condo and half the assets. He’s going to lose everything anyway.”

  “Why is he losing everything?”

  “The FBI has been investigating him for months for his involvement in a loan fraud. He and another cohort have been writing loans to fictitious individuals, then keeping the money for themselves. They make a few payments here and there to keep from foreclosing.”

  “Good God.”

  “The feds should be swooping in any day.”

  “Well, at least you didn’t kill him.”

  “Kill him? You have a vivid imagination, Calvin.”

  I shrugged. “You’re very secretive; my imagination fills in details. I suspected you offed Sonya Donovan so you could buy her house.”

  Bobby gave out a raucous laugh. “Speaking of which, I put in an offer; it was accepted yesterday. It’s a Valentine’s surprise for your mother, so don’t tell her. We move in on February fifteenth. Back to Palmer. I told him if he ever showed his face in Prairie Falls again it would be the last thing he did.”

  “Were you our anonymous tipster?”

  “I followed him to a hotel. He checked in and wasn’t coming out, and I wanted to go home.”

  We walked in silence for a block before I said, “You have too much money to be a government worker.”

  “I told you, I made a killing in real estate.”

  “Interesting choice of words.”

  He grinned. I’d feel better believing he was government. At least he’d be controlled.

  39

  Saturday, August 8

  DALLAS AND I ATTENDED Spanky and Sadie’s outdoor wedding, held in Nuremberg Park. We were staying at the Sheraton West near Ridgedale Center, as were most of the deputies, and we were to meet Tamika and Anton Frank in the hotel lobby while we waited for the limo.

  As we took the elevator down, I kissed Dallas and said, “You look fantastic. Your pretty dress matches your aquamarine eyes.”

  “I don’t look fat in this?”

  “Are you kidding me? You look amazing.”

  Shannon had told me she wasn’t coming, so when I saw her standing with the Franks, I knew there’d be a problem. Dallas lost a step when she spotted them. She tended to avoid functions where the three of us would be present together. And to top it off, Shannon was wearing the same dress Dallas wore, and I’m pretty sure women are mortified when that happens.

  “Hey, you changed your mind,” I said to Shannon after we joined the circle congregated near the front door.

  “I’m in between treatments. I felt good, and I thought, what the hell—I’m going.”

  “Well, great,” I said as I squeezed Dallas’s hand.

  Shannon was wearing her wig tonight. It looked like her own hair: thick, strawberry blond. Since she’d lost her hair, she wore a deputy baseball cap to work, but outside of the department she also used scarves and other decorative caps.

  Shannon turned to Dallas. “I see we not only have the same taste in men, but in dresses, too.”

  An uncomfortable few seconds of silence elapsed before Shannon filled the gap with: “I think the dress looks better on you, Dallas.”

  “Don’t be silly. You look great.”

  “You both look fantastic,” I said lamely. I forced a smile.

  Dallas was understandably quiet from the hotel to Nuremberg Park, and then at the park she selected chairs two rows behind Shannon and the Franks.

  I leaned in and said, “You are beautiful.”

  “The same dress? Really?”

  I patted her knee. Luckily the violin music began, averting uneasy conversation.

  On the limo ride to the reception at the Lafayette Club on Lake Minnetonka, the only words Dallas uttered for the entire fifteen-minute drive occurred when we pulled up to the front door of the stately white clubhouse. She said, “Well, this is quite something.”

  “Yes, and so are you,” I said and kissed her on the cheek. One side of her mouth lifted, and her eyes rolled. I needed to stop pandering.

  Cocktails and champagne were served in a reception room to the right of a fountain. I excused myself to find the men’s room, and after, I got waylaid by a couple deputies who asked me where Sheriff Clinton was. I was also curious as to why she hadn’t shown up. Then they started talking about the union vote to support Matt Hauser for sheriff. The election was going to be ugly.

  When I finally shook loose, I found Dallas talking with Crosby’s wife, Trish. Dallas must have thrown down a few glasses of the bubbly because she was all smiles.

  “Feeling better?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. She pulled me aside. “Shannon is in a lesbian relationship with Iris.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Tamika, in the ladies’ room just now. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her I was uncomfortable being around Shannon, and she said why would I feel that way because Shannon was in a lesbian relationship with Iris Kellogg. Iris was going to come to the wedding for their coming-out debut, but Iris’s grandmother broke her hip.”

  I caught Shannon’s eye from across the room. She smiled and finger waved at me. I guess I knew she and Iris were more than friends, but it was a little shocking to hear it said aloud. I had disregarded my gut-level feelings for months, and now I felt like a fool.

  “Excuse me for a minute.”

  I made my way to Shannon.

  “Can we speak privately for a moment?” I asked.

  Sure.

  I led her out on the lawn down by the water. I repeated what Tamika told Dallas.

  “Oh, Cal, I’ve tried to tell you several times, but I couldn’t find the right words.”

  “You found the words when you told Tamika and God knows how many other people.”

  “I knew you’d be hurt.”

  “I’m hurt because you didn’t think enough of me to tell me before someone else did.”

  She looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. You know I love you. It
’s just that I feel so much more with Iris.”

  I put my hand up to stop where that comment was going.

  “Cal, I can’t deny my true self anymore.”

  “When did this start?”

  “When we were nineteen, the summer we met.”

  “Wow.”

  “We went back to school that fall, and I felt ashamed of what we did. I was raised to believe being gay was wrong. I wrote to her and told her I’d met someone else—Chad. I pretended my way through a courtship, engagement, wedding, and marriage. When he died, I was conflicted. Sure, I was grieving, but I also felt a terrible guilt. I wasn’t the best wife to him . . . or you.”

  I screwed up my nose. “You told me Chad was the love of your life.”

  “Um, no. I said I already had the love of my life.”

  “You were referring to Iris?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced out on the water.

  The sun glinted off Lake Minnetonka’s blue water as the cruiser yachts paraded by. Some of the passengers on a smaller boat waved to us. Shannon waved back.

  “Did you cheat on me with her while we were married?”

  “No.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  “Yes. Mother asked why Iris was always at my house.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “Much better than I thought.”

  “Okay, I’m piecing some things together here. The night of the party when Hawk got drunk and told me he’d shot Paul, I thought you were mad because Iris kissed me hello. But it wasn’t her kiss that set you off, it was because she was with Erica.”

  “Exactly.”

  I hit my head with a fist. “Damn, I’m a fool.”

  “How would you have known? And you must know I didn’t pretend my feelings for you—you were my best friend. I wanted it to work because I love you.”

  “And we have such beautiful babies. I was good for something, right? Being the sperm donor?”

  “Don’t be that way.”

  “What way? Blindsided? Lied to?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t choose this life. I wanted to be who my parents expected me to be. I didn’t want to be the stereotypical dyke cop.”

  “Jesus Christ. Stop degrading yourself.” I cleared my throat. “Shannon, look, we’re good. You have a right to love who you love and be happy, and I like Iris.”