by Midge Bubany
As I drove out of the lot, he said, “Thanks for asking me to go along.” Then a few seconds later, “How long have you been in investigations?”
“Going on three years. You?”
“About the same. Tell me what you know about Michael Hawkinson,” he said.
“I’m not sure you’re aware, but he’s been a close friend of mine since we were kids.”
“Really? Jeez, man, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want the media to know, or they’ll make something of it. Anyway, he made a lunch date with me and never showed. I didn’t think much of it until his mom called me to tell me she hadn’t been able to reach him for three days. His wife was out of town, and it wasn’t like him not to answer his phone.”
“And now his brother is dead. Must be terrible for his parents. What was Paul like?”
“He was a nice kid, but weak and associated with the wrong people, his boss included.”
“Woody Nash. He sure acted fidgety when we searched his shop and residence. Started breathing rapidly. I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack.”
“He’s a candidate. I probably set Paul’s murder in motion by hauling him in for questioning. Are you looking at Woody for Paul’s murder?”
“Yes, and you can’t blame yourself in these deals. We have to do our jobs.”
As we headed down 371 to 10, we decided on a plan. We would start at North Cross Shipping then make our way to Wynn’s residence. Lee might enjoy talking to the hookers.
When we got to Minneapolis, we checked in with Haldis Moore, who sent us over to see Owen Jedowsky, the warehouse manager. The warehouse was just next door and about the size of a supermarket. The loading dock door was open, so we walked up the cement steps located to the left side and walked around a forklift parked just inside. No one was around, so we walked in and looked down the rows of shelving for Jedowsky. The space smelled of cardboard and motor oil. It was strangely quiet.
“Can I help you?” a voice bellowed.
I spun around to see a man’s silhouette against the sunlight streaming in from outdoors.
“We’re looking for Owen Jedowsky. Haldis Moore sent us over.”
We walked toward the man and showed him our badges. He was an odd-looking fellow with widely spaced eyes and super-sized nose and jaw. He pulled a walkie-talkie from a pocket of his olive green coverall.
“Owen, some cops are here to see you.”
“Send them up,” a voice answered.
The old guy pointed to the set of cement stairs located along the inside wall. As we ascended, a man appeared at the top and leaned on the metal railing. Save for his olive coverall, he looked like a member of a biker gang with his long, dark curly hair and untrimmed beard. His narrow black glasses were too small for his large face.
I introduced Lee and myself, then told him we were investigating homicides in Crow Wing County.
“Jedowsky,” he said, shaking our hands.
He showed us past two small offices and into a lunchroom where there was a scuffed wood table with four chairs. He gathered the Star Tribune and City Pages strewn across the table and threw them on the counter by the refrigerator. He wiped food crumbs off the table and onto the floor with his hand.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Once settled at the table, Jedowsky said, “Haldis said you were trying to track down Nevada Wynn. He’s on the road. Won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Where’s he been lately?”
“Des Moines, Chicago, and Olathe, Kansas.”
“When I spoke to Zeke, he said Wynn had a single delivery on Monday, May 12, to Estelle’s Candies in Prairie Falls.”
“That’s right. That woulda been a pump.”
“Is there any reason he would have had more boxes in the trailer?”
“He didn’t. I helped load that pump myself.”
“When did he return the truck on that run?”
“The truck was back here by six o’clock when we closed up.”
“You have quite the memory. Remembering a detail like that three weeks later?”
He pointed to his forehead. “I remember everything.”
“May I see the records?” I asked.
“Not without a warrant.”
I nodded. “You’ve kept him busy since he was bailed out of Birch County.”
“Had to make up for lost time”
“I guess so. Who put up his bail?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He sat back, his lips set in a tight line, indicating he was done answering questions. I was fairly certain he did know how Wynn made bail, and I also thought he needed Wynn on the road for a reason.
As we got up to leave, he pointed to my face. “Get in a bar fight?”
“You got it, pal.”
On the way to Wynn’s house, I made a call to Hennepin County and alerted them as to Jedowsky and North Cross Shipping’s possible criminal activity.
Franchon opened the door and yawned.
“Remember me?” I asked.
“Oh, you that deputy cop guy from up northwest?’
“Yes, Detectives Sheehan and Sabin.”
“Oh, I never seen you,” she said to Lee, as she flopped her hand out like he should kiss it. He gave it a tentative shake. She kept her eyes on Lee as she answered my questions.
“Where’s Snake?”
“I haven’t seen him for a week. I don’t know what he’s up to.”
“And Roseanna?”
“On her way to St. Cloud to see Ray-Ray. He back in now. Wasn’t s’posed to leave the state. He don’t think ahead, like Snake do.”
I showed her the search warrant. “Mind if I check?” I asked.
“You go right ’head. He ain’t here, and I got nothing to hide.”
I had Lee stay with Franchon while I searched the house and then went back to the garage. He wasn’t there, just like she said. When I walked back into the house, Lee was sitting in a straight chair across the room from Franchon. His cheeks were bright red, and then I saw the reason why. Franchon was sitting with her knees spread wide, and she wasn’t wearing underwear. She was messing with him.
“Close up shop,” I said to her.
She gave me a pouty look. Lee stood and headed out the door.
“You still have my card?” I asked.
She gave me a wide smile and said, “Yes, sir.”
“Call me if you see Snake.”
“Your pretty face got a little messed up, huh?”
“Yep.”
Lee was waiting outside near the Explorer. Once we were inside and buckled in, he said, “She’s somethin’.”
I laughed. “She liked you. What did she do beside give you a view of the wares?”
“Right before you walked in she licked her finger and put it inside… right there in front of me.”
I laughed.
“She seemed cooperative though. Do you think she’s telling the truth about not seeing Wynn for a week?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. There doesn’t seem to be the loyalty you usually see with real couples. These four seem more like symbiotic roommates.”
“Something is going on at the warehouse, and that Jedowsky character seems shaky to me.”
“I agree. They could be running a drug operation or laundering money out of there—or both.”
“And you said your buddy was a salesman for one of the companies that uses that warehouse.”
“I have a sneaking suspicion he found out something he wasn’t supposed to.”
We made cop talk all the way to Brainerd, and when I dropped Lee off, he said, “Hey, you golf?”
“I do.”
“Maybe we can play a round together sometime?”
“I’d like that.”
I sat on my deck and watched the sky turn from pink to purple to indigo. When the day fell into night, Iris’s interior lights came on. I watched her move throughout her house. I’d have to tell her the counselor recommended to Shannon that we postpone the divorce. Did Brett think he could save our marriage? Or was he trying to stop her from remarrying too soon? I took a deep breath of the fresh night air, trying to clear my head of everything negative.
The pool lights cast shimmering waves on the surface of the water. Its hypnotic appeal enticed me to sit on the edge and put my feet in. The pool wouldn’t get much use this summer, unless I used it myself. I went into the house, put on my suit, dove in, and after getting over the initial shock of the unheated water, I swam several laps working out the tightness in my shoulders. I swam to the ladder on the deep end and was about to climb out, when I saw headlights reflect off my kitchen windows.
An old burgundy Mazda pulled in my driveway. Who the hell was that, and what were they doing in my yard?
Bullet, who’d been poised on the pool edge waiting for me, gave out three barks, then trotted over to the car. He barked a couple more times while wagging his tail. I climbed out of the pool just as a man came out of the passenger side. I was acutely aware of my current vulnerability. I had a friendly lab as a guard dog and no firearm stuck in my swim trunks. The man slowly approached me with his hands in his pocket.
“Stop right where you are!” I thrust my arm out in defense—like my hand could stop a bullet.
His made one step as his hands came out of his pockets. I stopped breathing, bracing for the gunshot.
“Cal, it’s me. Hawk.”
Chapter 24
Jesus Christ, Hawk, I thought you were dead. Where have you been?”
He looked back to the old Mazda in my driveway.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“Can you loan me fifty bucks?”
“What?”
“My ride. I promise the kid I’d give him fifty bucks for a lift.”
“Not on me. Hold on.”
I went inside, found my wallet where I’d placed it, upstairs on my dresser, and pulled out all the bills. I had three twenties and two ones. I took the three twenties and went downstairs and handed it over to Hawk. He walked to the driver’s side and handed over the cash. The car pulled out and he faced me.
“Thanks, I’ll pay you back.”
“Sure. Man, I really thought you were dead. I’m so happy to see you. I’d give you a hug, but you really stink, man. Those are the same clothes you were wearing the day you disappeared.”
“How do you know?”
“Caught you on camera at Frank’s Plaza.”
“Didn’t do you much good, did it?”
“No.”
He followed me inside. “What happened to your face?”
“Long story.”
Bullet was sniffing Hawk’s feet and legs, then moved up to his crotch. I pulled him away.
“Can I have a glass of water? I’m really thirsty.”
“You bet.”
I poured him a glass of ice water. He gulped it down. I refilled it and he finished that one as well. He was dirty, smelly, had a three-weeks beard growth, but he looked in surprisingly good shape. But still—I didn’t know what he’d been through.
“I should take you to the hospital,” I said.
He threw both arms up. “NO! I’m fine. You look like you could have used one recently. So tell me what happened to your face?”
“Troy Kern and I had a little disagreement.”
“The jerk you work with?”
“Not any more.The fight was over Adriana. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I’m gonna go up and put some dry clothes on. I’ll be right back.”
When I came down, he was looking at the photos on the fireplace mantel. What I should have done right then was call Patrice—but not yet—I had too many questions.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, very.” His eyes darted around the room. “Where’s Shannon?”
“We’re separated.”
“Nooo. What happened?”
“Colby’s death did us in. It’s been a tough year.”
“Sorry, I haven’t been there for you.”
“Hawk, I have some bad news. Paul’s dead.”
He nodded. “I know.” He tried to blink away tears, but they rolled down his cheeks.
“How do you know?”
“The guy who gave me a ride told me about the murders in Crow Wing.”
“I’m sorry. Your folks took it pretty hard.”
He wiped his eyes and sniffed. “I’m sure. It doesn’t surprise me—shit he was into. Man, I wanted to get him out of it.”
“Look, we need to talk, but first I want to snap photos with my iPad to document what you looked like when you showed up at my door.”
“Photograph this.” Hawk pulled up a cuffs to reveal the open sores on his wrists. He lifted up his pant legs to reveal his ankles also rubbed raw. Then he showed me the reddened skin of the sides of his neck.
“This is from the bike lock around my neck.”
“Jesus.”
I took several photos then said, “Okay let’s get you into a shower, so I can stand being around you. I’ll go get you a set of clothes, a toothbrush and razor—some gauze for your wrists and ankles. While you clean up, I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Could you order a pizza? I’ve been dreaming of pepperoni pizza and beer.”
“Sure.” Hawk had taken all my cash, but I could order online and pay for it with my credit card.
I gave him a garbage bag to throw his clothes into, then I ordered the pizza.
By the time Hawk was cleaned up and had a beer, the pizza arrived. I was hungry too as I hadn’t eaten since a late McDonald’s lunch Sabin and I had. We each devoured four big slices in silence. Then he pushed away from the counter and burped. I burped in response. We laughed like we were twelve again.
I slapped his back. “I have so much to ask you.”
“Can I have another beer first?”
“Sure.” I pulled two out and handed him one. “Okay, talk. I’m going to record this on my iPad.”
We moved to the couch, and I propped the iPad on the table in front of him. I pulled up the camera, slid it to video—then the phone rang. I looked at the display.
“It’s Shannon,” I said. “I have to take it. It could be one of the kids is sick or something.”
“Of course.”
I moved to the back of the house and looked out at the pool. “Hi.”
“Did you sleep with Adriana? Is that why Troy came after you?”
“Not now, Shannon.”
“I just want to hear it from you!”
“Look, I can’t get into this right now.”
“Why? Is she there?”
“No, of course not. I’ll explain tomorrow.”
“Goddamn it, Sheehan.”
“Two words, sweetie: Mac Wallace.”
She hung up. I turned around and found Hawk frowning.
I said, “It’s okay. Where were we?”
He sat up, blinked a few times, and said, “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Let’s start with the Monday we were supposed to have lunch. But first, I have to give my identifying information. I pressed the red record circle then gave the date, time, case number, and who was present.
“Okay, Mr. Hawkinson. Please tell me what occurred after you left your parents’ home on Monday, May 12.”
“Okay… well, first I stopped by my brother Paul’s to talk to him. On Sunday morning he’d asked if he could borrow ten thousand dollars. I’d just given him three grand six months ago, s
o I went to tell him no, that enough was enough. When I got there, he had a houseful of thugs he’d gotten involved with. He took me outside and told me they were there to collect for some pills stolen out of his garage he was storing for Woody Nash, that’s why he needed the ten grand.”
“Did you know the thugs?”
“I knew one guy from North Cross Shipping, the warehouse where we store our pumps, which is another story.”
“Tell me about it now.”
“Okay, so this guy worked on the loading dock, now’s he’s driving a delivery truck. But I suspect he’s using North Cross trucks to transport drugs. Once when I stopped by to check on our inventory, I overheard him talking about meeting up with his Texas hombre in Kansas City, then he’s up in Brainerd sitting in my brother’s living room? Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s connected to Woody’s pills stolen out of Paul’s garage.”
“What’s his name?”
“They called him Snake. Has a tattoo of a cobra on his face, and it wraps around his neck.”
“His name is Nevada Wynn. He’s an ex-felon now out on bail.”
“Not one bit surprised. The other guy they called Ray-Ray.”
“Raybern Ginty. So pills? What kind?”
“Paul said they were prescription drugs from Mexico, like oxycodone. Street value was upwards of twenty-five grand. Man, my brother was sucked into some dangerous shit. That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. I wanted to see if you could find a way to help him.”
“How did you think I could help?”
“It was only a matter of time before he got caught. I thought maybe he could turn himself in or be a confidential informant or something—get these guys off his back and off the street. I wanted your advise on the best way to handle it.”
“Did you say anything to Wynn at that point—at Paul’s?”
“Not then, no. I could tell Paul wanted me out of there, so I left to meet up with you. Anyway, I had time to stop for gas in Prairie Falls and who should pull up at the pump behind me, but the pricks from Paul’s. They asked me if we could go somewhere and talk. I said I didn’t have time. The big dude was pushing it, Glenn somebody, so I only pumped a quarter tank and pulled away. I was headed straight for the sheriff’s department.”