“Gunther Brule,” Tori muttered and gave a gentle knock on the one-way mirror. Steak turned around surprised, not knowing anyone was watching. He exited the room to find Tori in the hallway.
“Sorry, I was watching surveillance footage earlier,” Tori explained. “Eddie was sitting next to Gunther Brule.”
“Hmpf,” Steak snorted. “I’ll try that out with them.”
Steak walked back into the interview room. “Gunther Brule.”
“Yes!” Sarah replied, pointing to Steak. “That was his name.”
“And what happened after that? After he pinched Genevieve on the ass.”
“Nothing,” Tessie answered. “I mean, Gen turned around, looked at him and acted kind of offended, but Eddie Mannion stepped in. Kyle did, too. Before anything else happened, Kyle and Eddie walked Gunther whatever away and that was that. It was over in like less than a minute. It was nothing, the Brule guy was sloppy drunk.”
“And when did that happen?” Eggleston asked.
“I don’t know, maybe ten-thirty or eleven, somewhere in there. We were there for a long time after it happened. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Steak and Eggleston finished with Joyner and Mueller and let them go. They met with Tori in the hallway after the two women left. Steak looked to his partner, unsatisfied, wiping his tired face with his hand, “We spent all day in there and the best we got was a drunk Gunther Brule pinching Lash on the ass. Awesome, fucking awesome. What are we supposed to do with that?”
The three of them walked down the hallway to Braddock’s office. Will was sitting at his desk reading a report. He listened to the summary of the interviews from his detectives. He shared their aggravation and their disappointment, not to mention the exhaustion. “Look, you two, you’ve barely been home since Sunday,” he said to Steak and Eggleston. “It’s a reasonable hour. Go home, see your families, have dinner and we’ll dig back in first thing in the morning.”
Tori had no such place to go so she lingered, taking a seat in the chair in front of Braddock’s desk. “Have you checked all the boxes now? Have you completed the checklist?” she asked while rhythmically tapping her fingernails on the arm of her guest chair.
Braddock didn’t appreciate the tone, peering at her over the papers he was holding with narrowed eyes. Yet, at the same time he understood he was sitting across from a victim, someone who’d been suffering for twenty years. Tori Hunter was someone who was looking to help, and she brought a certain expertise, not to mention motivation. From that perspective, he thought to himself, If I were in her shoes, I’d be really fucking impatient, too. So instead he looked down to his right desk drawer and asked, “Agent Hunter, I could really use a bump, how about you?”
“Uh…yeah, sure.”
“Bourbon okay?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Next to wine, bourbon was usually one of her go-to drinks. It was familial; the sheriff drank bourbon.
“Do me a favor. Grab two coffee cups off the rack out there by the coffee pot and then close the door. There’s been a StarTribune reporter snooping around and the last thing I need is him snapping a photo of me boozing in my office.”
Tori came back to find that Braddock had pulled a bottle of Knob Creek out of his desk drawer.
They each drank from their coffee cups. Braddock leaned back in his chair, exhaled and closed his eyes.
Tori, someone who viewed all silence as uncomfortable, started with, “So?”
“Agent Hunter, I’m...”
“Call me Tori.”
“Okay, Tori, call me Will. I’m ready to expand my investigation to more fully include a full dive back into your sister’s case, but not necessarily because of you or your little verbal digs.”
“Then why?”
“Because this afternoon yielded next to nothing and because of this,” Braddock answered, sitting up in his chair and reaching for the folder and report he’d been reading, “I have here the BCA forensic report for Lash’s car.”
“What does it say?”
“Genevieve Lash’s tire suffered a blowout and was tampered with, specifically a fresh puncture hole near the rim of the right front tire on the inside.”
“On the inside?”
“Yeah. Whoever did it would have had to lay down on the ground, get under the car and puncture the inside of that tire. The hole was smooth, not a rough puncture wound. It was intentional, probably done with a knife, a damn strong knife.”
Braddock reached for another more worn file on his desk. He opened it and flipped up some pages.
“Now, the puncture wound on your sister’s car was on the right front tire, just on the outside as were, by the way, five other puncture wounds to tires that night in Manchester. All six cars were in downtown Manchester that night. It was assumed at the time to be something of a prank.”
“You know the case, then.”
“Not like you,” Braddock answered, taking a drink of bourbon. “But I do know you haven’t been here in a long time. This town is haunted by the memory of that case. You know, Manchester, the home of The Hunter Girl disappearance. No matter what success they’ve had here, no matter how positive the news is, that case is never far from anyone’s memory. Manchester and that case are inextricably linked, and now the town is going to have to go through that again.”
“They’re not the only ones.”
“No, they’re not, but it’s time to go back there. I’ve been on this job here five years and I’ve been through that case file a few times, including the last couple of nights, seeing if I might find or see something someone else didn’t or if there was some piece of evidence that didn’t seem relevant at the time but is now. One piece is the confirmation of the tire tampering. In my mind that really ties the cases together, that and the newspaper clipping you showed me. It tells me they’re connected, but I’m still wondering about the…why?”
“Why now? Why Lash? Why contact me?”
“Yeah, all of that, but Lash in particular. She was not random. Her car was sabotaged. She was targeted. Why? There’s a reason. That’s what’s eating at me right now.”
“When do we start?”
“First thing in the morning,” Braddock answered. “I haven’t seen my eleven-year-old son in three days. I’m feeling the need to go home and give him a big hug.”
CHAPTER 7
“I WILL MAKE TIME.”
T ori checked in to the Radisson on the edge of downtown. After she’d settled in and had a quick room service salad, she sat cross-legged on the bed and opened her laptop and then opened the file for her sister’s case. As she read through one of Cal Lund’s written reports, there was a light knock on the door. Tori, mindful of Cal’s warning, reached for her gun, carefully approached the door and peered out the peep hole. Her jaw dropped. “No way.” She opened the door to find three people waiting.
“Oh my God, it is you!” Lizzy Cowger exclaimed, jumping forward, embracing a stunned Tori before she could even react. Corinne Whitworth quickly joined them in an embrace while Jeff Warner simply stood back, arms folded and grinned.
“We heard you were in town!” Corinne cried happily.
“Word travels fast,” Tori replied, regaining her composure. “I assume Steak let everyone know.”
“A discreet text might have gone out,” Warner replied cagily with a sly smile. “It’s good to see you, Tor.”
“It’s good to see you too, all of you.”
“We figure you’re here because of—”
“The Lash disappearance. Yeah, I’m here to work and…”
“Tori,” Warner said, holding up his hand. “On the first Tuesday night of each month, those of us still left here from our graduating class—and there are actually quite a few of us—we meet at the Steamboat Bay Tap Room just down the street. A whole bunch of us are there now. Come and join us.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tori replied reluctantly, looking back to the laptop on her bed. Her purpose in coming home wasn’t to reconnec
t with anyone but, upon quick thought, she realized that wasn’t realistic. She’d already seen Cal and Steak. Her return would not go unreported. And these people standing right in front of her were her friends, her good friends, for as long back as she could remember. She was happy to see them, but somewhat shocked by the warm welcome. Would everyone feel that way? “I haven’t been back in so long. People probably feel like I abandoned them.”
“I think everyone understands why you left, Tori,” Lizzy said.
“We all know you’re not here for a reunion, or for anything like that,” Corinne added but then reached for Tori’s right arm. “But you’re here and we haven’t seen you in so, so long.”
“And it’s just so good to see you,” Liz added, wrapping her arms around Tori’s left arm. “Come see everyone, even for just a little bit, just to say hi.”
“Do they all know I’m here?”
Warner shook his head. “Steak only texted Lizzy and Corinne and they wrangled me to come along, so it’ll be a surprise, a big one, and those are always fun. What do you say?”
Tori sighed. She couldn’t really say no, not to these people. “Okay. I’ll come for one.”
It was a four-block walk to the tap room. Much to her surprise, it took only a block for old feelings, warm feelings, to seep into her consciousness. She started asking questions about their old group of friends and Lizzy and Corinne eagerly filled in all the details, who married who, who was divorced, who had kids, who did what and where.
“Here we are,” Jeff announced, reaching for the door handle, looking to Tori. “You ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“Too late,” Warner replied, opening the door.
The four of them went inside. Tori immediately saw familiar faces. After a moment she drew some looks, people wondering who the fourth person with Corinne, Liz and Jeff was. Then one of them, another old close friend, took a longer look and then her eyes went wide in recognition and a huge smile spread across her face.
“Tori? Tori!” Mickey Webb screamed, running up to her. “Oh. My. God. It’s you, it’s really you!” Mickey exclaimed with a huge smile, wrapping Tori in a big warm embrace which after a hesitant moment she happily returned.
“Hey Mick, how are ya, girl?”
That happened again and again for the next ten minutes as she made her way through her old friends and classmates, all happy to see her, welcoming her home.
It amazed her how so many of their old crew were still hanging out together. She stayed for three hours and even managed to sample a couple of local microbrews as she reconnected with old friends. She expressed her astonishment to everyone at how the town had grown.
“That’s the Mannions and Jeff over there,” Mickey explained.
“Really? I mean, don’t the Mannions just have the restaurant?”
Mickey laughed. “Oh my goodness, you have been gone a long time. Kyle Mannion has built this big drone business out on the edge of town and owns a bunch of businesses around here that support, supply or distribute for it. He’s a big benefactor of Manchester State University and he has funded an engineering program over there so then graduates are funneled into his businesses. Plus, he is venture funding business ideas of kids studying in that program, so not only are we growing but the growth is young, so it will be long-lasting. At this point the Mannion’s are billionaires and the company went public.”
“What about Eddie? I didn’t see him here tonight.”
“And he usually is but I suspect he’s out of town on business. He’ll be sorry he missed it. Eddie runs the Mannion restaurant businesses. It isn’t just Mannion’s On the Lake here. There are Mannion’s restaurants all over the Midwest and Eddie runs all of that. I think they have catering and supply businesses, and there is also a hospitality management program that they’ve developed at the university.”
“And Jeff? What’s his story? I didn’t ask him on the way over.”
“He’s the lawyer for Kyle and Eddie and all their companies. He has a law firm in town that he merged with some national law firm, must be three or four years ago. Just like with Kyle, if you have a business in town, you’d work with his firm to get things done.”
“They’re all so…young to have such success.”
“That they are but they’ve have really led the charge around here. I used to have to go down to the Twin Cities or even St. Cloud for real shopping options. Now, I can just go down the street. It’s great.”
As the party started winding down and people started departing, Tori realized there were a couple of people she’d have liked to have seen that weren’t there. She decided to have one more small beer with Corinne and Lizzy.
“Where is Jason Rushton these days?”
“I wondered how long it would take for you to ask about him,” Lizzy replied with a smile. “He lives in Denver. He’s married, two kids. I think he’s a banker, a vice president of some kind, living a good life.”
“And where’s Katy? What’s up with her, does she still live here?”
Both Liz and Corinne’s smiles evaporated.
“What?” Tori asked warily. “What happened to Katy?”
“You really don’t know anything about the town, do you?” Corinne asked.
Tori shook her head. “Tell me about Katy.”
“She still lives here,” Lizzy answered, “but we never see her.”
“Why not?”
Corinne and Lizzy shared an uncomfortable look.
“What’s the deal, girls? What is it with Katy?”
“Tell her,” Corinne said looking to Lizzy. “She should know this.”
“Tell me what? I should know what?”
“Katy is still here, she lives with her mom in the same house out in the country northeast of the lake. But she is a—shut-in.”
“A shut-in?”
“She almost never leaves the house,” Liz explained. “She hasn’t for years.”
“Why?”
“I think…well, I think it all goes back to when Jessie disappeared…it just impacted her bit by bit over time. She became withdrawn from everyone, then afraid of going out, then of leaving the house, then of pretty much everything.”
“It’s not that we haven’t tried to get her out,” Corinne added. “I have her cell number and send her texts from time to time, but she never replies.”
“I tried going out there for years to see if she’d come out and she just won’t leave,” Lizzy added. “She’s really just a shell of herself and, God I hate to say it.”
“Say what?” Tori pressed.
“I think she’s gone crazy.”
“You should go see her,” Corrine stated. “If you have time.”
“I will make time.”
Tori Hunter was back.
Sitting low in his car seat, he observed Tori and her two friends exiting the tap room, laughing, smiling, appearing happy.
“Well, well, well. After all these years you fell right into old times with your friends, didn’t you,” he murmured excitedly. “Interesting.”
He watched casually, his right hand draped over the steering wheel as Tori Hunter exchanged hugs one last time and then waved to her two friends. She stood guard as they finished the walk to their own cars. Tori watched them both get inside their vehicles, start their engines, turn on the lights and pull safely away. Only then did she turn away and start walking the opposite direction. He watched as she moved briskly along the sidewalk on the north side of Lake Drive.
When she was a block from the Radisson he started his car, checked the rearview mirror and pulled out along Lake Drive. Rolling east he closed the gap on her, taking in her movements. There were the purposeful strides and erect posture, her ponytail bouncing along. Most would see a petite, attractive women strolling along but he knew better. Inside that small body was a coiled weapon.
As he pulled through an intersection she glanced back as if to check if anyone was behind her. He was far enough away that he didn’t register as
a threat, but she had an obvious wariness about her. She knew someone out there wanted her back here in Manchester and she was exercising caution.
“You should be on guard,” he muttered. “You’re not in New York City anymore, Tori.”
Now that she was here he hoped there would be a time and a place for them to meet, to come face-to-face, for Tori Hunter to be able to look into the eyes of her sister’s killer. Tonight, was not that night. The timing wasn’t right.
There was so much yet to be done.
CHAPTER 8
“NOT ONLY THAT, THEY TRUSTED HIM.”
T ori woke early, quickly scanned the local trail maps on her computer, identifying one that followed the east side of the H-4 north out of town. With the sun rising, she went for a brisk six-mile run to get her blood going and purge her body of the toxins from her unexpected night of beer drinking.
After the run, she showered and then dressed more casually in a light blue blazer and blouse along with dark gray slacks. She arrived at the government center just after seven a.m. with two dark roast coffees and two breakfast sandwiches from Starbucks. Braddock was already in and at his desk with three old open banker boxes from the original Jessie Hunter investigation.
She held up the coffee carrier and food bag. “Man, I wish I could wear jeans on the job.”
“I’m not stopping you,” Braddock replied, eyeing the what she was holding. “Is one of those for me?”
Tori nodded and took a cup out of the carrier and handed it to Braddock.
Braddock took a sip and gestured his appreciation. “Thanks. Our coffee…well, it’s a caffeine delivery mechanism.”
“What time did you get in?”
“Half an hour ago,” Braddock replied. “I got up early, took a swim and then rolled in here to get a start.”
“Swim? Where?”
“I’m on Steamboat. I have a place over on the southwest side.”
“No kidding. I grew up on the lake, just northeast of town,” Tori replied and then held up the white bag. “I brought us some breakfast as well,” she added, grabbing an open chair at the small conference table.
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