Dan looked at her for a moment, and then he eased back over his plate and took a bite of pie. After he chewed some, he pointed his fork at her and added, “Just leave the law to me. I can handle it.” Dan didn’t seem to notice her mood changing back. “I like to take care of our people. If it weren’t for me, some families would be visiting loved ones in jail rather than seeing them safe at home. I don’t have to tell you those jails ain’t safe.” Then he planted his fork in the remains of the pie like it was some victory flag. “I’m here to protect us.”
“And what about Winston? Isn’t he part of us?”
Dan scoffed. “A drug dealer?”
“Isn’t Larson one? And half this town?”
“I told you to stay out of this,” Dan growled, getting worked up again.
“Well, I ain’t stopping, I can tell you that.”
Dan’s eyes turned fierce. “I tell ya— You’re going to break the peace!”
Mabel folded her arms to her chest. “Well, I don’t think this is much of a peace if young kids are getting high and doing hard drugs, not just weed. People are suffering, and you ain’t doing nothing to stop it!”
Dan paled like Mabel had slapped him in the face; she wondered if she had finally gotten through to him or had taken it too far.
When Dan finally cleared his throat and said, “I got my hunting show on. I’ll be seeing you,” she had her answer.
She watched him go until the door chime rang twice, and he was gone, with words unsaid between them. She dropped her gaze to his unfinished pie, thinking what a waste this night was. Then she picked it up and dumped it into the dirty dishes bin. Her tears came hard and fast, so she held onto the bin for support and kept her head down, not wanting anyone to see her crying.
The next morning, she had woken up early with Sarah’s words repeating in her mind: “You have your diner, and those crews and truckers of yours will support you. My family? We don’t have a choice. We’re not lucky like you.” It made her wonder: if Larson’s money were the only thing keeping the bank from owning all her business instead of just part of it, would she be behaving differently? She certainly hoped so. But in all honesty, she didn’t know what she would do in Sarah’s shoes.
And she didn’t want to be — no mother would. So she sat down beside Fred and Hector eating their breakfast the next morning before school.
“Hey, boys, I have something to ask.”
Bleary-eyed and exhausted, only Fred looked up from his bacon and eggs to listen, so Mabel poked Hector’s arm to get his attention.
“I want to talk to both you boys about drugs.”
Fred’s eyes widened, and even Hector stopped eating, curious. Kerry breezed in just then, grabbed her plate from the counter, and sat down. Then she noticed Fred and Hector’s seriousness and asked, “What’s up?”
Fred told her. “Momma’s talking about drugs.”
Kerry nearly laughed and said, “What?! Really? What sort?”
Mabel wanted this to be a serious talk. “Now Kerry, this is for all of you. I want to ask what you know about drugs?”
“What?” Hector said, smiling. “You mean weed? Ganga? Dope?”
Kerry added, smiling, “Reefer. Mary Jane.”
“Poopy plant!” Fred shouted then broke down, giggling.
Hector rolled his eyes and said, “Poopy plant is not a name.”
“No. I’m serious, kids. There are harder drugs than just weed.”
“Momma said weed!” Fred said, breaking down and laughing. Hector and Kerry did too.
“Enough!” Mabel said, trying not to smile. “I mean it,” she added sternly so that the boys weren’t laughing outright anymore. Still, she didn’t want to be too strict about it and didn’t want to talk about Wade directly. “This is serious. There are harder drugs out there. Like cocaine, crack, that sort of thing.”
“Why bring this up, Auntie?”
“Well. Like I said, there’s some harder drugs in town than weed. And I… I want you all to know that you can talk to me if anyone ever tries to sell them to you. These drugs, they are not good drugs. They can hurt you. You can get addicted.”
“What’s addicted?” Fred asked, and while Hector rolled his eyes at his brother, it was clear he didn’t really know what that meant either.
“It means you can’t stop taking them. The drugs make you want to take more of them. And if you stop taking them, they cause you pain. Make you do things you don’t want to. They can make you sick.”
“So why take them?” Fred asked.
“Well,” Mabel said, not sure how to say it. “They might make you feel good at first, but it turns on you and hurts your body. It can cause terrible pains. And… like I said, make you sick.” She looked between the boys, who seemed as lost as ever, and since her explanation sounded lame even to her, she fell back to the popular saying of a big drug campaign by the First Lady of the White House. “So, if anyone asks you about drugs, just say no, okay?”
Kerry scoffed. “Really?! Just say no. That’s it?”
“Well… yes,” Mabel said. “What else are you supposed to say?”
“You talk about it. Like we’re doing now. You tell people about it and not let it go unnoticed. People feel ashamed about it, but like you said, it’s an addiction, so the best way to deal with it is to get it out in the open.”
Mabel was taken aback at how wise Kerry sounded. “Do you know someone taking drugs?” she asked.
Hector and Fred were all ears now, getting to listen in on an adult conversation.
“No. Not here, but back in Seattle—” Kerry had never talked about her previous home life, so Mabel felt this was a bit of a breakthrough. “When was I was at home, I knew a girl on heroin.”
“Did she get sick?” Fred asked.
“Kind of,” Kerry replied. “She stopped going to school. All the parents and teachers seemed to think it was some sort of a scandal, but it really wasn’t. I wished the teachers had talked to us more about it, but they just avoided mentioning drugs and pretended it didn’t happen. I thought that was wrong.” Kerry looked at Mabel. “You’re doing the right thing here, Auntie. It’s not about just saying no. It’s about talking. Being honest.”
Kerry paused, looking pensive, and then bent over her breakfast, and started eating. Fred and Hector looked at each other, wide-eyed, and then started eating too.
Mabel looked over them all and felt that was enough for now. But she touched Kerry’s hand, and they smiled at each other. Then Mabel got up and took out the Flintstone vitamins for Fred and Hector and set them down by their plates as always.
Fred started, shocked by the sight, and then said, seriously, “Momma! You’re giving me drugs!”
Hector burst out laughing, and so did Kerry. Fred looked at them all confused, and then Mabel, trying not to laugh, explained to Fred this wasn’t the drugs she was talking about. Fred didn’t seem convinced but ate the vitamin anyway. Then Hector ran off, repeating, “Momma’s giving drugs! Momma’s giving drugs!” Fred quickly ran after him, shouting the same thing, and the morning routine turned to chaos.
Mabel resignedly picked up the plates and was going to clean up when Kerry stopped her with a serious look, which caught Mabel’s attention.
“Auntie, I mean it. The best thing for you to do is what you just did. Just keep talking to them about drugs. That’s all you need to. Don’t stop.” Then Kerry kissed Mabel on the cheek and left to finish getting ready.
Surprised but pleased, Mabel got back to cleaning the dishes, feeling good about her talk even though she knew her message had not gotten through to the boys.
But it got her thinking about Winston again. How he was still stuck in prison, and while she couldn’t do more about the drugs in town right now, she could at least focus back on his case. Three suspects were left on her list, and after finishing a waitressing shift this afternoon, she’d get back to them. Then, later on, she’d check in on Winston’s lawyer too.
Maybe he’d had better l
uck.
CHAPTER 25
After the kids went to bed early, Mabel settled into a comfy chair in her den, rubbing her feet after a long day, and thought of how Bill used to do that for her and how good he was. Then she gazed out the window toward the mountain and wondered if he was up there tonight, looking up at the stars. He had a rental place in town but spent most of his time camped out on Dead Man’s Peak. As an expert geologist and prospector, he knew that mountain like the back of his hand and had discovered and kept secret a few gemstone beds, whose gems were highly sought after by collectors, so he was doing fine for money and helped out when he could. He was a good man and a romantic, and she missed him.
But sitting here alone was doing no good, so she reached for the business card of Winston’s lawyer, Lavi D. Arronson. Time to follow up, she thought, hoping Arronson had progressed farther than she had. Pulling the kitchen phone with its long cord into the den, she sat down and dialed, figuring she’d be leaving a message on his office answering machine this late.
The phone rang twice when a voice came on the line. “Arronson.”
“Oh,” Mabel said, impressed he worked late. “I didn’t expect to catch you at the office.”
Arronson paused. “I work from home. Who is this?”
“It’s Mabel Davison.”
No response.
Had he forgotten me? “I talked to you after Winston’s arraignment.”
“Which one?”
“Winston Washington. Blue River. The murder?”
“Oh, oh, yes. Mr. Washington’s case. Yes. I’m on it.”
Mabel brightened. “What’s new?”
“What do you mean?”
“What have you found out about the other suspects?”
“What other suspects?”
Mabel’s high hopes faded fast. “I told you. The black truck. The second semen sample. Any leads on your end?”
“Uh.” Arronson sounded confused. “I haven’t… I mean, I don’t follow. This is the Blue River case, right? You’re the detective on it?”
Mabel passed over the detective part and got straight to the point. “Have you done anything on the case?”
“Yes, quite a bit,” he said, and she felt relieved. “The prosecutor is interested in a deal. Manslaughter, eight to ten years, chance of parole in six.”
Mabel nearly dropped the phone. “But he’s innocent!”
“Mr. Washington wants this over with, and it’s a good deal. If this goes to trial and he loses, he could be in prison for twenty years.”
“I don’t think you understand me. Why should he go to jail at all? We’re here to help him. Aren’t you looking at alternate options, other suspects, that sort of thing?”
“That’s your job. Not mine.”
Mabel started with a, “Well, Luv,” but she didn’t say it like she usually did — more like she growled it out. “I have been following up on some leads. I have been tracking down owners of black trucks who work at the sawmill. One even sic’d his dog on me. And so I’ve got three left, and I’m following up with that.”
“Well, that’s all interesting, but I need more than that. With no prelim now, if we go to trial, we’d need solid evidence to get him free. Otherwise, he loses.”
“So do something,” Mabel cried out in frustration. “Help me out here.”
Arronson sounded confused. “I am doing something. I am getting him out of prison in six years with good behavior.”
Mabel was getting angry, and the momma bear tone was creeping into her voice. “I don’t think you understand the importance of this. That boy shouldn’t go to jail at all. At. All. Don’t you agree?” Arronson stayed silent, so Mabel pressed on. “Who are you to give up on a client—”
Arronson began to interject, but Mabel cut him off. “Don’t you interrupt me! You are a public defender. That’s a sacred trust to a poor boy who has no one else in the world but you to defend him. An innocent child will spend six years of his life in jail with a record because you took the easy route. All you care about is making a deal and wiping your hands of this case. When did you lose your ideals, Mr. Public Defender? You defend people! So when did you stop caring about the people you’re helping?! Dear me, I need you to not make deals, but to make sure we have the evidence needed to save him. This is unconscionable. This is… ugh!”
“Okay, okay,” Arronson said, sounding worn down. “You made your point.”
“You’re darn sure I made my point,” Mabel emphasized. “You’re better than this…” She looked back to read his first name on the card. “What would your mother say about this, Lavi?” Mabel had never seen a name like that before, and it threw her. “What does your name mean anyway?”
Arronson hesitated and answered as if he was embarrassed. “Lion. It means lion in Hebrew.”
Mabel sat up, excited. “Yes. You are a lion, Lavi! This is your chance to shine. You can save this boy if you try. We can save him!”
“Oh, all right then.” Arronson’s voice had a hint of a tired smile, as if Mabel’s speech had sparked something inside him. “I’ll look into it. What do you have?”
“I need you to look more into the case files, Lavi. Make sure there isn’t something we missed. I don’t have access to those.”
“But you’re the lead detective on the case.”
Mabel hesitated and decided only to share part of the truth. “No, I’m not. I’m just concerned he’s not getting a fair deal. But these two men should be looked into — Don Sigmundson and Lee Wallach. Both are white supremacists and linked to a drug ring out here — real nefarious types. I’m going to find if they have alibis for the night of the murder. Then I’ll track down a third, a Cole Smithson.”
“Can you get DNA?”
“Uh, what’s that?”
“It’s a new test being developed. It’s much better than the standard blood and protein serology tests.” Mabel was lost but didn’t interrupt him to ask. “I know a lawyer on the team that used it earlier this year in Florida. Get some biological material, anything they touched or drank out of is fine. But don’t contaminate it with your hands — wear gloves or use a tissue, put it in a paper bag, that sort of thing. I might be able to get this test done to see if it matches the semen sample. DNA is like a chemical fingerprint. Oh yeah, see if you can also get regular fingerprints from these guys. There are some fingerprints from the scene if I remember correctly that are not matched to Mr. Washington.”
“Right on, Lavi,” Mabel said. “That’s what I needed. Okay, I’ll get them.”
“Also, you better do this quick. The trial date is just under a month, remember. These DNA tests will take some time.”
“Oh, dear, okay. That’s fast.”
“The prosecutor is going to be angry if we take the deal off the table, so I doubt he’ll support an extension. We need evidence, Mabel, solid evidence to link the murder to someone else. If the evidence doesn’t hold up, he loses. If he loses, he gets twenty years.”
Mabel paused, starting to comprehend the high stakes of what she was doing. Knowing she wasn’t an investigator and was out of her league, she needed help. Consuela wasn’t enough, so she prodded Lavi. “We’re in this together, Lavi. You are the lion. You went into law to do good. Let’s do good here.”
“I’ll do my part, but I need you to do yours. Tell me what you find out about their whereabouts that night and whether you can get DNA samples. Who’s the lead investigator working with you on this?”
Mabel dodged his question by answering only, “Your mother will be proud, Lavi. I got to go.” Then she hung up the phone quickly. Her hands were shaking a little as she pondered Winston’s fate. Maybe Lavi was right to seek a deal because if she failed, Winston would be behind bars for the rest of his life. Mabel rested her head in her hand and looked out the bay window of her den. She couldn’t see the stars anymore, only the dark gray of the mountain and the forest’s darker blue edge through the shadow of her reflection.
She’d never looked so str
essed.
CHAPTER 26
Monday, October 20
In the morning, Mabel called Consuela, hoping she could help procure any lunchroom dishes used by Lee Wallach, Cole Smithson, or Don Sigmundson, but Consuela dashed that idea, “Darling, those boys don’t like sitting with the suit-and-tie types. They eat their lunches by their stations out on the floor.” With less than four weeks to trial, Mabel needed those samples ASAP. If she couldn’t get them at the mill, she’d have to think of another way. Changing the topic, she got Consuela to check the timecards of the three remaining suspects — none of them had worked the night of the murder, though all three had been scheduled. Consuela also provided information about the shutdown procedures, including when maintenance crews were on site. But none worked that night either, something Mabel thought only an insider — and certainly not poor Winston — would know. The information gave Mabel confidence that she was on the right track.
To find out whether Don at least had an alibi, she wanted to talk to the girlfriend. But with a morning shift at the diner, she was overwhelmed: the diner, the motel, the boys, her niece, and now this detective work. She doubted she could sneak out after the breakfast rush like last time. The mine crews were flocking to her diner for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and she was starting to get lineups — unheard of for her place.
Even if she could talk to Don’s girlfriend, Mabel tried to imagine how that conversation might go. “Hey Barbara, did your boyfriend kill a girl?” Or, “Hey Barbara, what was Don doing the night of September 3rd?” Mabel was under no illusions about her abilities as an investigator. The girl could easily just tell her to go to where God ain’t welcome, and that would be the end of it. There had to be another way, but what?
Kerry came down for breakfast, yawning and looking grouchy. Mabel had an idea, hoping Kerry wouldn’t give too much sass about it. “Kerry, I need your help.”
“What now?” Kerry slumped into her chair.
“Do you know Barbara at the grocer?”
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