by Sandra Balzo
Like I said, he knows stuff. ‘Other than that Hannah moved here with them in December, I don’t know enough about her to guess what else Jack might have on her.’
‘Who would?’ Pavlik asked, unclicking his seatbelt as we pulled up next to a Brookhills’ County squad car.
‘Christy, maybe.’ I shut off the engine. ‘She sold Hannah the house here. Or, better yet, Mort. They’re dating.’
‘Mort and Hannah?’
‘Yup.’
‘That’s interesting.’ Pavlik had gone to open the door and now he sat back. ‘Mort will be here today.’
‘Want me to talk to him?’
‘Let me,’ Pavlik said, swinging open the door. ‘You take Christy.’
‘I’m not sure she’ll be here,’ I said, getting out and coming around the car.
‘I am.’ Pavlik pointed to the back door of the church, where Christy was talking to her boss. ‘We’ll divide and conquer, but not necessarily now. We have all day and two funerals. You catch Christy alone and I’ll do the same with Mort.’
‘Sheriff.’ It was Mike Hallonquist. He was in full dress uniform, too.
‘Mike.’ They shook hands. ‘You know Maggy Thorsen.’
‘Of course. Good to see you, Maggy.’
‘Same,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry about Al.’
‘He could act like a jerk but he was a good cop.’
I smiled. ‘And here I always thought you were the one playing the good cop, to his bad.’
‘It was our shtick,’ Hallonquist said with a matching grin. ‘We tried it the other way around, but I couldn’t cut it.’
‘I bet.’ I shook my head. ‘Despite Al’s hard-ass act, I never questioned his heart, at least once I got to know him.’ Which admittedly had been a rocky time.
As we approached the back door, Mort and Christy finished their conversation and Mort went inside. Christy started down the sidewalk toward us.
I thought I had my opportunity to talk to her, but Pavlik took my arm and said, ‘Wait.’
Whether it was because Christy seemed in a hurry or Hallonquist was with us, I didn’t know, but I followed his lead. ‘Hi, Christy.’
‘Oh, hi, Maggy. I’m running back to the mortuary to help prepare for the Hartsfield service. Will I see you there?’
‘You will. You remember Jake Pavlik, and this is Mike Hallonquist.’
‘I’m so sorry for your losses,’ Christy said. ‘We will do right by your officers. Mr and Mrs Taylor are inside if you’d like to greet them before the service.’
She hurried away with a sympathetic smile.
‘She really has taken to this,’ I said.
‘To what?’ Hallonquist asked.
To dealing with death was what I was thinking, but I said, ‘Christy just started with the mortuary after years of teaching piano. It seemed quite a leap at the time.’
‘They’re both service industries, I guess,’ Hallonquist said. And then, ‘What the hell?’
We had rounded the corner to the front of the church.
‘Now that’s interesting,’ Pavlik said.
I followed their gazes and saw Jack Andersen in a dark suit amidst a sea of blue uniforms. As we were watching, Vickie LaTour came out to meet him. ‘Oh, that’s not good.’
‘Actually,’ Pavlik said, ‘it could be. Let’s go say hello to your friend.’
I assumed he meant Vickie. Facetiousness wasn’t Pavlik’s thing.
‘Oh, Maggy,’ Vickie said, looking relieved to see a familiar civilian face. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’
She seemed so adrift and panicked that I gave her a hug. And I’m not much more of a hugger than Sarah is. ‘What are you doing here?’ I whispered into her ear.
‘Jack insisted,’ she whispered back. ‘To pay our respects. I’m … I’m appalled.’ The woman was visibly trembling.
‘Andersen.’ Pavlik didn’t take the man’s proffered hand.
‘Sheriff Pavlik.’ He turned to Hallonquist. ‘And Detective …?’
‘Hallonquist,’ Pavlik supplied. ‘Al Taylor’s partner.’
‘Of course,’ Andersen said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘If you’re so sorry, tell us where your brother is so we can put him away for life,’ Hallonquist said.
As he spoke, I saw officers stepping back. It took me a second to realize that if trouble started, they wanted time to react.
And get a good shot off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Father Jim move out of the narthex and, if not into the fray, near it.
Pavlik had seen him, too. ‘Now, Mike, that’s not fair. I’m sure Father Jim here would say that Andersen’s not his brother’s keeper.’
But Father Jim shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that was what Cain said when God asked him where his brother Abel was.’
‘That’s right.’ Pavlik cocked his head. ‘And hadn’t Cain killed his brother?’
‘He had,’ Jim said. ‘Beyond that, though, we should all be our brother’s keepers. In that light, Cain’s denial was both against doctrine and an outright lie.’
‘Because he knew very well where his brother was,’ I said.
Pavlik nodded. ‘Or at least where he’d left his body.’
Silence. One, two, three beats. Then, ‘I killed my brother? That’s the analogy you’re going for?’ Jack Andersen was smooth.
‘Parallel, analogy.’ Pavlik shrugged. ‘Take your pick.’
‘And why, in this work of fiction you’re weaving, would I do that?’
‘Money?’ Pavlik ducked his head. ‘I’m sorry to say that your brother Pauly is violent and uncontrollable. None too smart, either. You, on the other hand, are very smart. You plan, you pick your mark, you execute. But with him on the loose, you never know when he’s going to show up and ruin one of your schemes. Like with Vickie here.’
Jack put out his hand and pulled Vickie toward him. ‘There is no scheme this time. Vickie and I are in love.’
I wasn’t sure that was true on either side, at least anymore. But she said, ‘Let’s get out of here, Jack. Please.’
Andersen held up his hands. ‘What about it, Sheriff? Are you going to arrest me? Oh,’ the hands went down again, ‘I forgot. You’re not sheriff anymore, are you?’
‘He is as far as we’re concerned,’ a voice from somewhere in the blue-uniformed crowd said. ‘All he has to do is say the word.’
‘No, Andersen’s right,’ Pavlik said. ‘I’m not in a position to take him down. Yet.’
‘C’mon, Jack,’ Vickie said, tugging at him.
Finally he relented and let her pull him away. As they did, the blue sea parted to let them through.
‘What was that?’ I whispered in Pavlik’s ear as we sat waiting for the service to start. ‘Are you telling me you knew Jack killed his brother all this time?’
‘Of course not,’ Pavlik said. ‘It came to me when I thought of the Cain and Abel story.’
‘Really?’ I sat back. ‘That’s pretty cool.’
Pavlik tipped his chin. ‘It is, assuming it’s true and he takes the bait.’
TWENTY-FOUR
Detective Al Taylor’s service was short and sad. Taylor was divorced with no kids and his mom and dad, both in their seventies, seemed to be surprised and overwhelmed by the support from his fellow officers.
‘But he took his own life,’ his mother whispered to Pavlik in the receiving line afterwards.
‘Al was one of my best detectives,’ Pavlik said. ‘He could be a pain in the butt, if you’ll excuse me for saying—’
Next to his wife, Mr Taylor cracked a small smile. ‘Nothing we don’t always know, right, Helen? Remember all the trouble he gave us growing up? Always had to have the last word.’
She nodded once and a tear rolled slowly down her cheek.
‘But we always knew he had our backs,’ Pavlik said. ‘He felt he let us down and didn’t seem to want to hear otherwise.’
‘And so he had the last word.’ Mrs Taylor held up a shaky finger. ‘One more t
ime.’
Pavlik smiled. ‘Your son was a good man.’
His father was folding and refolding the order of service. ‘He left what he had to that poor widow and her daughter. I think … I think that was a very honorable thing to do.’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Taylor said, her voice breaking. ‘Al did his best.’
‘Now we’ll do the same, Helen,’ her husband said. ‘And get through this. He never wanted us to hurt like this.’
We walked to the car in silence.
‘Is it wrong for me to hope that Pauly Andersen is dead?’ I said, getting in. ‘And that he suffered as much as Al Taylor and his parents? And Mrs Hartsfield and,’ I looked across the center console, ‘you.’
‘That’s probably a question best asked of Father Jim. I’m more of an eye-for-an-eye man.’
‘Don’t give me that,’ I said. ‘You believe in justice, not vigilantism.’
‘You don’t know that. Maybe I’ll go rogue if I’m not reinstated.’
I had no fears of Pavlik going rogue, but the fact he was thinking of life after sheriffing broke my heart. ‘Fighting for justice. Does this mean we’re going shopping for a bat spotlight and a cape?’
‘Please. I’m not a follower. I’ll develop my own alter-ego.’
I grinned. ‘Speaking of altars, I saw you talking to Father Jim.’
‘Your old boyfriend? Yes, I was asking him for your hand.’
I swatted him.
‘Ouch,’ he said, wincing. ‘Wounded, remember?’
‘I’m so sorry.’ I was mortified. ‘Is it OK? Did I rip any stitches?’
‘No, but my ego has sustained a terrible wound.’
‘Your ego is just fine.’ I put out my hand palm up.
He took it. ‘Only if you marry me.’
‘Maybe I will,’ I said. ‘Now tell me what you really were talking to Jim about.’
‘First, I wanted to explain why I brought him into the discussion with Jack.’
‘Which was?’
‘I wanted Jack – and maybe Vickie, even more so – to know Father Jim was there listening.’
‘It probably would give Vickie pause,’ I said, taking my hand back and using it to turn the ignition key. ‘Not only is she Catholic but she works for Father Jim. Jack, though, is another thing. He’s perfectly brazen in front of fifty-plus law enforcement officers. Why would a priest make a difference?’
Pavlik pulled the seatbelt across and clicked it in. ‘You never know. Maybe Jack was an altar boy. Or just has good old Catholic guilt, which is the other thing Jim and I talked about.’
‘You have Catholic guilt?’ I was waiting for traffic to clear behind me, so I could back out. ‘But you were brought up Jewish.’
‘We have the corner on guilt,’ he said. ‘But Jim was showing me a note that somebody put in the collection plate.’
I shifted my eyes from the rear-view mirror to Pavlik’s face. ‘Some kind of threat?’
‘Just the opposite. An apology. For stealing.’
I sat back. ‘Somebody receiveth rather than giveth when the plate passed by? That’s pretty low.’
‘And pretty hard to do without somebody seeing. Father Jim does say it explains why collections have been down.’
Which Langdon Shepherd had mentioned.
‘Does Jim think it’s an inside job?’ I asked. ‘I mean, one of the elders or the people passing the plate? It’s obviously somebody inside the church.’
‘He doesn’t know but he gave me the note.’ He reached into his suit pocket and held out a folded sheet of paper.
‘Fingerprints?’ I asked, hesitating.
‘All over it, from what Jim told me. The elder who found it passed it around before giving it to him.’
‘This person used cutout words,’ I said, examining it. ‘They probably wouldn’t go to all that trouble and be stupid enough to leave prints.’
‘My thought, too.’
I felt a twinge of gratification and looked down at the note. We took money from collections. Will replace. Please forgive me.
I handed it back. ‘First “we,” then “me” – did you notice?’
‘I did. Interesting, though crooks don’t necessarily have good grammar, especially when piecing together a note like this quickly.’
‘Was this found in the collection plate on Sunday?’ I asked.
‘Today, but—’
‘Well, that narrows things down. It has to be somebody here for the funeral.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Pavlik twisted his head around. ‘I think you can back out now.’
I shifted into reverse. ‘Why not necessarily?’
‘Watch out.’
I was backing out of a parking spot amidst dozens of squad cars. Believe me, I was watching out, but apparently not enough.
‘Maybe give it a minute,’ Pavlik suggested. ‘Anyway, the elder found it in an empty plate before today’s service.’
Hmm. ‘The pilfering might have been going on for a while. Vickie said she and Nancy were trying to track down some sort of discrepancy in the books. Maybe this was it.’
‘When was this?’
‘It would have been Saturday night, because Vickie mentioned it on Sunday morning. Nancy had just taken over the books from Fred Lopez. Maybe she was on to something.’
‘And what? Fred killed her?’
‘I think he’s been deported, so probably no. Besides, Fred’s a great guy with a family.’
‘Great guys with families sometimes get in financial trouble and become desperate. But Fred or not, if Nancy and Vickie found this discrepancy on Saturday night why wait until Thursday to kill her? And what about Vickie?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you know if we’re ever going to back out? Because we’re going to miss Pete’s service if we don’t.’
‘Oh, right.’ I put the car in reverse and this time pulled out successfully. ‘I need to talk to Vickie. Without Jack around.’ I shifted verbal gears this time. ‘Do you really think Jack pulled a Cain on his Abel?’
‘It’s entirely possible.’
‘The bait you mentioned. It’s Jack knowing that you’re on to him?’
‘And doing something in reaction, like making sure the body is hidden or the weapon is properly disposed of.’
‘How will you know? You’re still on leave.’
‘The department still has officers sitting on Jack Andersen’s place in case his brother shows up. If Jack heads off into the woods around Poplar Creek to move his brother’s body, for example, we’ll know it. Or Hallonquist will and he’ll tell me.’
The woods stretched the length of Poplar Creek from behind Brookhills Manor past the mortuary, Hannah’s house and beyond. ‘Has the area behind the manor been searched?’
‘Not for a body.’
‘Your theory is that Jack killed Pauly in the woods and then stole Gloria’s car and abandoned it at the station to make us think he’d left the area.’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Your guys checked the trunk, right?’
Pavlik gave me stink eye. ‘A little credit, please? And it was the Milwaukee PD, since the train station is in Milwaukee.’
I grinned and turned north on Poplar Creek Road to the mortuary, where Pete Hartsfield’s service would start in twenty-five minutes. ‘And the trunk of Jack’s car?’
‘Doesn’t have a car, according to him. There’s nothing registered in his name.’
This was the suburbs and public transportation except for the occasional bus from the city was nearly non-existent. How did the man get around? ‘You said the MPD scanned the security footage around the bus station for Pauly. What about Jack?’
‘Their focus was Pauly, though they should have had Jack’s picture, too.’
‘Maybe somebody picked him up. If a car pulled up at the front and Jack ducked out the door and into it quickly, they might have missed it.’
‘You’re thinking the somebody might be Vickie?’
‘You mean is she Bonnie to Jack Andersen’s Clyde? Got me. But she has a car and you say he doesn’t.’
‘Any idea what kind of car?’
‘White Kia Soul.’ I glanced sideways at him. ‘I think she’s scared. Didn’t you get that impression?’
‘Honestly, yes. And eyes on the road. Please.’
I complied and Pavlik continued, ‘Question is whether she’s afraid for herself or for him.’
‘Or both.’ We passed my house. ‘I wish we had time to stop and let Frank out.’
‘I could cut you a doggy door. That’s what I did for Muffin.’
‘You know Frank. You’ve slept with Frank. If you cut an opening big enough for him to get through, there’ll be no door left.’
‘Yet he manages to squeeze himself into the two inches between us in the middle of the night.’
‘I know. He’s like a memory foam mattress. Arrives small and then splat, he’s all over the place. Here we are.’
The mortuary driveway had a rope across it and Christy was directing traffic. ‘Sorry, Maggy, but the lot is full. You can park at Hannah’s if you like.’
‘She’s not home?’ I asked.
‘She’s staying with Mort,’ Christy said, waving to another car. ‘The house is so empty now.’
‘Happens when you kill off all your housemates,’ I said as I pulled up the driveway.
‘You’re ruthless, you know that?’ Pavlik said.
‘More cynical, I think. I just think bad things. Mostly, I don’t even say them except to you and Sarah.’
Pavlik braced himself on the dashboard as we hit a pothole. ‘Why us?’
‘Sarah’s even more ornery than I am. And you, I love.’ I stopped in front of a white frame house with green trim.
‘See, did that hurt?’ he asked, getting out. ‘And you said it twice now in less than a week.’
‘Trying to get used to it.’ I went around the car and snuggled into his arms. ‘You do know I care about you, right?’
‘I do. And I think you’re even getting used to living together.’
‘Scary as that is, yes.’ We started down the driveway hand in hand. ‘Though technically you’re living with me.’