Book Read Free

Crow Wing Dead

Page 16

by Midge Bubany


  Bobby was waiting by his Escalade in the parking lot. He walked toward me and said, “Cal, I really like your mother. I won’t hurt her. Trust me.”

  “You do and you’re dead. You can trust me on that.”

  He dropped his smile. “I understand. You’re being protective of her like I am with my family.”

  As I reached for my car door handle, he put his hand on the top of the door to stop it from opening. He said, “If you want to find your friend, look at the brother.”

  “What? What are you doing?”

  “His disappearance interests me. The brother is reckless, into illegal substances and such. You were aware of that, right?”

  “Back off. Stay away from me and my investigation.”

  “Whatever you say. Just trying to help.”

  “Well, don’t.”

  I mumbled curse words all the way back to the department and walked into Patrice’s office without knocking. She appeared startled with my entrance.

  “I want Bobby Lopez watched twenty-four/seven and his phone tapped.”

  She looked up at me with puzzlement. “Brooks’s neighbor? You think he had something to do with Michael Hawkinson’s disappearance?”

  “He’s getting himself involved in our investigations.” I gave her the whole story.

  She tilted her head and said, “Well, you have a lot of nothing there. No judge is going to sign any warrants on that basis.”

  “Fine,” I said and started to make my leave.

  “Cal,” she called after me, “best leave him alone even if he is with your mother.”

  Not likely. “He’s not with my mother. He’s the flavor of the month.”

  Patrice said, “How many times has she been married?”

  “Once, to my deadbeat dad.”

  “But I heard your dad was a millionaire, and you inherited a bundle from your real mom.”

  “Hope is my real mom… flakey, but she was a good mother. Her sister, Grace, was my biological mother. Who told you this anyway?”

  “Troy. I think it was around the time of Adriana’s fire.”

  “Figures.” Big mouth Troy.

  Bobby Lopez’s comment about Paul Hawkinson distracted me from my work. I had hoped to figure out a new strategy for finding Hawk, but it wasn’t working. About three o’clock I gave up, grabbed my briefcase, and then drove a department Explorer over to Tulia and Paul’s place on Eighth Street South in Brainerd.

  I pulled up behind a yellow Beetle parked on the street. The house had a new roof and had been repainted a light blue. A few shrubs had been planted under the picture window. Through the screen door, I could see directly into the living room. Heavy metal music was playing somewhere in the back of the house. I rang the bell three times.

  Tulia walked through the room and happened to notice me. She came up to the door, but didn’t open it. “You looking for Paul?”

  “Is he home?”

  “No, he’s at work.”

  “Mind if I come in and ask you a few questions?”

  “Well, I have to get ready for work in a few minutes.”

  “It won’t take long. I just want to run some photos by you.”

  “Okay, if it’s quick.”

  “Would you mind turning down the music?”

  She went over to the sound system and turned it a few notches lower. I raised a brow, and she turned it off.

  When we were seated on the couch, I spread out photos of Nevada Wynn, Raybern Ginty, Roseanna Martinez, and Glenn Hayes over the gossip magazines covering the coffee table.

  “You recognize any of these people?”

  She shrugged and said, “The men—not the woman.”

  “Tell me how you know them?”

  “They’ve been here. I think one of them’s having a car restored at the shop.”

  “You saw the car?”

  “No, but Paul said they came to talk about a restoration. That’s all I know. Why? Who are they?”

  “Can you tell me the exact date?”

  “Sure, it was the last time we saw Mike right after fishing opener. He stopped to see Paul before he went back to the Cities, or supposedly went back. It’s all so wierd.”

  “How long did he stay?”

  “I’m not sure because I was getting ready for work, and by the time I got out of the shower and dressed he was gone.

  “What time was that?”

  “Umm, I had early shift that day. I traded with Linda, and she starts at eleven, so it was before that. They were kinda creepy lookin’, Cal. I told Paul he shouldn’t have them over again.”

  “Did Mike say where he was headed after he left your place?”

  “Not to me, he didn’t.”

  I parked in the concrete drive in front of Woody’s Custom Builds. I walked into the office and asked for Paul. The guy behind the counter was obese and wore his greasy, gray hair tied back in a ponytail. From the framed newspaper clippings on the back wall, I deduced he was Woody Nash who had recently celebrated forty years in the auto renovation business.

  Woody lifted himself from the chair with a grunt and shuffled to the door into the shop. As soon as he opened it, the whine and whir of power tools became louder. Shortly after, Paul entered the office with hearing-protection earmuffs pulled down around his neck. He was wiping his hands with a rag. When he saw me, his shoulders lowered a couple inches. Woody stood behind Paul, eager to hear what a deputy wanted with his employee.

  “Let’s take a walk, Paul.”

  Paul shrugged then handed Woody the rag and the ear gear. We were a few feet out of the door when he said, “Is it about Mike?”

  “No. Get in my vehicle.”

  His eyelids fluttered a few times but climbed inside the front passenger seat of my department vehicle. He stared straight ahead.

  “Know these guys?” I watched his face as I showed him the photos of Wynn, Ginty, and Glenn Hayes one by one. His hand came to his mouth, and he rubbed his chin.

  After the last photo, he shook his head. “No, I sure don’t.”

  With an open hand I slapped the back of his head.

  He ducked and said, “Ow! What’d you do that for?”

  “Don’t lie to me. I just talked to Tulia. These scum suckers were at your place the morning Mike dropped by your place. You jerk. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I forgot.”

  “You forgot. Don’t give me that shit. So what happened before, during and after he was there?”

  “Nothing. Honest,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

  “I don’t believe you. You tell me exactly what went down and what was said, or I’ll haul your ass to jail for your brother’s murder.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Murder? You think I murdered my own brother? Jesus, Cal. He just happened to drop by when they were there. I told him it wasn’t a good time to talk, so he took off.”

  “These nimrods were captured on film talking to him at Frank’s Plaza in Prairie Falls.”

  “What? You didn’t tell me that.”

  “What were they doing at your house?”

  He let the air out of his lungs. He slumped. “We do a little business with them.”

  “What kind of business? Drugs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re selling drugs for them?”

  “Not exactly. We move their product.”

  “How?”

  “In wrecks and old cars up on trailers. It looks like we’re transporting the cars to other locations.”

  “You stupid shit. Does Woody know?”

  “Hey, it’s his deal, man, not mine.”

  “Then why were they at your place?”

  “They just showed up. I owe Snake som
e money.”

  “How much?”

  “Uh… maybe… ten.”

  “Grand?”

  He nodded.

  “Jesus H. Christ, Paul. How did you manage that?”

  “Ginty brought up some product, but the trailer wasn’t back from Chicago yet, and Woody said to get it out of the shop, so I put it in my garage. When I went out to get it the next morning, it was gone.”

  “When was this?”

  “The Thursday before fishing opener.”

  I checked the calendar on my phone. “May 8th.”

  “Sounds right. So Snake covered me and brought up some new stuff that day, only he said I owed him ten grand for the stuff that was stolen.”

  “You fuckup! You should be the one missing, not Hawk. Or was he involved?”

  “No, no. He didn’t know anything about it.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  He glanced at me. “If I did, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”

  “Did it occur to you your debt has something to do with Hawk’s disappearance?”

  His face contorted, and he began to cry. “Yeah.”

  “What did they say when Hawk left?”

  He didn’t answer. He was too busy crying.

  “Oh, stop your damn bawling and talk to me.”

  He sniffled a couple times, then wiped his face on his sleeve. “He said it looked like Mike did okay, driving a Mercedes and all. He thought I should ask him for the money.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “Snake, but Ray-Ray jumped on it too.”

  “Why the hell do people call him Ray-Ray? Why not just Ray?”

  “I don’t know, man. They just do.”

  “All right. Now I need to get your side of the story on tape, so let’s go tell your boss you’ll need to take off for a couple hours.”

  Paul frowned but moved out of the vehicle and toward the office. When we entered, Woody looked up.

  “Everything okay?” he asked Paul.

  “Fine,” he said, and nothing more.

  I put my hand on Paul’s shoulder and said, “I’m going to borrow Paul here for a short while. It’s about his missing brother.”

  Woody’s eyes bounced back and forth from me to Paul. He was trying to size up what was going on. “Oh, sure. Take all the time you need, Paul.”

  “How many people do you have working for you, Woody?”

  “In the shop? I have two guys. One guy to transport. Why? Need a job?” He let out a raspy laugh.

  I returned the laugh. “Nah, there’s plenty of criminal activity in this area to keep me busy.”

  Woody held his grin, but his eyes lost their part in it.

  When we left, Paul started walking toward his restored 1972 black Camaro. I said, “No, Paul, I’m driving you.”

  “How am I gonna get back?”

  “I’ll make sure you get a ride. And, Paul, you better tell the whole truth.”

  He took a deep breath and let out a big sigh.

  After we pulled out on Highway 10, he said, “Woody knows.”

  “What does Woody know?”

  “That you’re really talking to me about Snake and Ray-Ray.”

  “Are you afraid of Woody?”

  “No. I’ll just tell him… well, I don’t know what I’ll tell him.”

  “Does he know the product was stolen?”

  “No, Snake covered for me.”

  “That’s why you owe ten grand?”

  He nodded.

  “You aren’t making the best decisions these days, Paul.”

  “Things have been a little fucked up, I know. Tulia and I are thinking of moving west.”

  “West?”

  “Yeah, maybe Oregon. Get a fresh start. They’re in jail, right? Snake and Ray-Ray?”

  “Ginty’s back in St. Cloud, but Wynn made bail.”

  He jerked back. “You let Snake go? You got a spare pistol I could borrow?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m gonna get my rifle from Dad’s.”

  “Leave it the fuck there.”

  After the interview, I arranged for a reserve deputy to drive Paul back to Brainerd. Then I checked my messages. Patrice wanted to see me, so I went down to her office.

  I stood in her open doorway and asked, “What’s up?”

  “Judge Olann’s clerk said you could pick up your signed search warrants for Raybern Ginty and Nevada Wynn’s residence, employment records, and vehicles. You have forty-eight hours.”

  “Well, then it looks like I’ll be headed to the Cities tomorrow morning.”

  “I spoke with Oliver. He says Ms. McCall roughed you and Austin up a bit, but believes everything will come together with Tamika and Troy’s testimonies. Troy’s up tomorrow.”

  “I hope he’s right. Do you have time to see Paul Hawkinson’s interview?”

  “I’ll make time.”

  After she reviewed the video, she said, “Would have been nice if he’d told you all of that earlier.”

  “He’s scared.”

  “He should be. Do you believe he knows anything about his brother’s disappearance?”

  “I think he’d tell me if he did.”

  “You think? Well, he’s admitted to participating in criminal activity. I’ll contact Sheriff Hudson in Crow Wing County. I’d say he’s going to want to look into Woody’s operation. I’ll also give the task force a heads up.”

  She was referring to the Joint Drug Enforcement Task Force, JDETF, a multi-jurisdictional special ops group, which Troy used to be on.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Do you think Woody is the area distributor?”

  “According to Paul he’s using his restoration business to transport drugs in the cars, but since my visit, he may have already gotten rid of any evidence.”

  “The heat is on.”

  “I’m a bit worried about Paul’s safety.”

  “Well, he’ll have to figure it out, now won’t he?”

  I asked Crosby Green to study and crosscheck phone records for Cat and Michael Hawkinsons, Paul Hawkinson, Wynn, Ginty, and Hayes when they arrived. Crosby immediately went to work at the desk he and Spanky shared. He started with the only ones we had at this point—Cat and Hawk’s.

  “I especially want to know who Cat was texting while in Mexico.”

  “Okay.”

  Tamika entered the office and threw a notebook on her desk.

  “Remember the lady in Myrtle who called 911 this morning? She found footprints in the dirt under her bedroom window and thought someone was trying to break in to rape her.”

  “Yeah,” Crosby said.

  “Turns out it was her own kid. He got locked out and hers was the only unlocked window. She didn’t ask him, so he hadn’t told her. When I started taking fingerprints from the window frame he casually mentioned they could be his.”

  She cocked her head, and said, “Hey what’s up with you, Calvin? You look like you lost your best friend.”

  “I have, remember?”

  “Oh… sorry, it’s just a figure of speech. So what’s going on?”

  I told her about Paul Hawkinson.”

  “What a loser,” she said. “Who’s the huge dude with an eye patch I saw your mother with at the grocery store?”

  “That’d be Bobby Lopez.”

  “Brooks’s neighbor?”

  “Yep.”

  “She likes the bad boys?”

  “She’s never been a conventional mother. She dresses like a hippie, lives in the past—and believe me she has one—and I think she just ran into it with Bobby Lopez.”

  She said. “Maybe he’s good i
n the sack.”

  I threw a wadded piece of paper at her.

  She laughed.

  “I’m going to Minneapolis tomorrow to search Ginty and Wynn’s apartments. You free?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m not due in court until Monday.”

  “I’ll pick you up at 4:00 a.m. We hit Wynn’s residence tomorrow at 7:00 a.m.”

  She made a face. “You should have led with the time I’d have to get up.”

  “Up to you.”

  Crosby said, “I’ll go. Tamika can do these phone records.”

  “No way, Bing.”

  She called him Bing. You know—for Bing Crosby.

  A horn sounded on my phone reminding me of my family counseling appointment with Brett Nickles.

  “Gotta go,” I said.

  Chapter 16

  The first thing you notice when you walk into Brett Nickle’s office is a poster-sized Charles Schulz cartoon. It’s of Lucy van Pelt standing in her box waiting to give out advice to anyone with a nickel. The sign says Psychiatric Help 5¢.

  Brett was a licensed psychologist specializing in family counseling, not a psychiatrist; he couldn’t prescribe medication. Shannon’s personal physician prescribed something for her depression. I didn’t know if she was still taking it—or if Mac Wallace did the trick.

  Donna Benson, Shannon’s mom, was sitting alone in the waiting room.

  “Hi,” she said brightly.

  “Hi. Are they in there already?” I asked.

  She lifted her shoulders along with a hand. “Just Luke. Shannon had something to take care of so asked me to bring him.”

  Her tone indicated she didn’t approve. I went to give her a hug then told Carole at the desk I was there, as if she couldn’t see me.

  “It’ll just be a few minutes,” Carole said.

  I sat next to Donna. She patted my hand.

  “Okay. Donna, I think it only fair to tell you I’ve given up fighting to keep the family together.”

  “I don’t blame you, honey. I don’t agree with how Shannon’s dealing with things, but it must be because she’s suffered so much loss. First, Chad, then sweet little Colby. Everybody grieves differently.”

 

‹ Prev