To the Last Drop

by Sandra Balzo

  ‘We did,’ was all I got.

  ‘Lynne thought she might have seen something,’ I prodded.

  ‘So Mrs Swope knows her?’

  ‘Only that William said she’s some kind of government conspiracy theorist and wanted William to pay for her silence.’

  Pavlik’s forehead wrinkled. ‘About what?’

  ‘Dentists putting tracking devices in teeth, for one thing,’ I said like I knew what I was talking about. ‘Pahlke didn’t tell you why she was there?’

  ‘According to the Louisville police she’s been in and out of shelters. She told Taylor and Hallonquist she was simply exercising her civil rights.’

  ‘Including dropping her drawers in the bushes?’

  Lines next to Pavlik’s eyes crinkled, signaling I’d amused him. ‘She did admit that, once Hallonquist assured her he wouldn’t cite her.’

  I guess you had to feel sorry for the woman. ‘What I don’t understand is why she didn’t see the body right off when she went behind the hedge.’

  ‘Apparently Ms Pahlke was desperate to relieve herself and thought the man was a drunk sleeping off a Friday night bender.’

  Not likely in Brookhills. Most of our drunks slept in their comfortable beds in their highly priced homes.

  ‘She kept an eye on him as she squatted,’ Pavlik continued. ‘It was only when she’d finished up that she realized something was wrong.’

  Feeling I’d plumbed the depths of Pavlik’s knowledge of Rita Pahlke, I moved on. ‘What about Clay Tartare? Did he say why he was so hot to talk to—’

  ‘Want me to go?’ The sound of my son’s voice caused me to close my own mouth and tune back in on the conversation inside the conference room.

  ‘Just who are you again?’ Taylor asked.

  I could feel my eyes narrow. I’d never liked the man and I sure didn’t like him talking to my son that way. Or any way, for that matter.

  Pavlik put a hand on my arm. ‘Eric is nineteen. He can handle himself.’

  I stayed put.

  ‘Eric Thorsen. My mom and I called in the body.’ I swore I actually heard him swallow. ‘I mean, Doctor Swope.’

  Taylor snorted. ‘Following in your mom’s footsteps?’

  I shot a look at Pavlik and he shrugged.

  ‘We weren’t the first ones,’ Eric said defensively.

  ‘The decedent worked at Thorsen Dental,’ Taylor said. ‘That’s your dad’s office, correct?’

  ‘Correct,’ I heard Eric say, the word managing to convey both preciseness and uncertainty.

  ‘When was the last time you were there?’

  ‘Before today?’ I could hear surprise in Eric’s voice. ‘Maybe August?’

  ‘That’s a long time.’ This voice was kinder – Hallonquist. ‘Away at school?’

  ‘Yes, in the Twin Cities. We just drove back from Minneapolis last night.’

  ‘We?’ The violent crimes’ detective continued the questioning.

  ‘Ginny and me.’

  ‘That would be you, young lady?’ A pause. ‘Virginia Swope?’

  ‘It would.’ Ginny’s voice sounded sullen.

  ‘When was the last time you saw your dad, Ginny?’

  ‘Last night. Eric took me to see his mom’s coffee shop and my mom and dad were there for some book club.’

  ‘How did he seem?’

  ‘My dad? Fine.’ Ginny sounded more forthcoming now, though her voice still held an edge. ‘He said he’d see me later and we left. I dropped Eric off at his mom’s house and went over to my cousin’s for pizza.’

  ‘So neither of you saw Doctor Swope after that? Did you maybe stop by Thorsen Dental on the way?’

  The ‘no,’ was a vehement chorus.

  ‘And even if we had,’ Ginny continued, ‘my dad was at the coffee shop when we left, remember?’

  ‘Good point,’ Hallonquist said. ‘Why don’t you two wait in the outer office? We’ll want to get fingerprints for elimination purposes and may have some follow-up questions after we’ve finished talking with Mrs—’

  ‘I’m staying with my mother,’ Ginny’s voice interrupted.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Taylor said as Eric came out, not having to be told twice.

  My son hovered just outside the conference room door uncertainly but Pavlik gestured for him to move away and took his place there.

  ‘Why doesn’t he just go in?’ Eric asked me in a low voice.

  ‘Pavlik?’ With a glance at the sheriff’s back I beckoned my son to the desk where we could sit and still hear – even partially see – the proceedings. ‘I assume he doesn’t want to undermine his detectives or overwhelm Ginny and her mother.’

  ‘Ginny’s got cojones, huh?’ Eric said as he settled his rump on the top of the desk next to me.

  I nodded. From our vantage point we could see Hallonquist seated across from Lynne and Ginny. Taylor was next to him, his arms crossed. The bald homicide detective had pushed his metal folding chair back a bit from the table, as if distancing himself from the conversation.

  Hallonquist looked up from what I assumed was a notepad on the table in front of him. ‘Mrs Swope, when was the last time you saw your husband?’

  ‘At the book club meeting.’ Lynne’s voice came out wispy and she cleared her throat. The next words were stronger, the tone more like her daughter’s. ‘Just before seven.’

  ‘And this was at Uncommon Grounds. But Ginny didn’t stay, correct?’ Hallonquist was apparently playing the good cop to Taylor’s bad. Not that it took much. Just their comparative voices and demeanors painted different pictures.

  ‘I told you,’ Ginny said before her mother could answer, ‘I took Eric home.’

  Hallonquist made a note. ‘When did the meeting finish up?’

  ‘A quarter past nine, I think,’ Lynne answered.

  ‘You texted me about then,’ Ginny confirmed. ‘To say you were leaving.’

  ‘Is that when Doctor Swope left as well?’

  This one Lynne fielded. ‘William didn’t stay for the meeting.’

  Hallonquist looked up. ‘Why not?’

  The financial advisor shifted uncomfortably. ‘He didn’t really say but I know he planned to go back to the office anyway.’

  ‘So Doctor Swope never intended to stay for the meeting in the first place. Did he just stop in to say hello?’ Hallonquist’s face projected open and encouraging.

  Lynne shot an uneasy glance out the door and caught my eye before answering. ‘No, he came to stay but there was a bit of a disagreement beforehand. I assumed then that’s why he decided to leave but I don’t know that for sure.’

  The detective registered surprise, though I had to assume he’d already been briefed on the dust-up with Ted. ‘This disagreement was between your husband and somebody else at the meeting?’

  The guy was good. And maybe more dangerous – or effective might be the better word, assuming you were on the right side of both the table and the law – than the more abrasive Taylor.

  ‘Not exactly at the meeting,’ Lynne said. Another glance at Eric and me. ‘It was before, as I said—’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Ginny interrupted. ‘Who do you think you’re protecting? Just tell them.’

  She turned to Hallonquist. ‘Doctor Thorsen came in, ready to rip my dad a new one.’

  Taylor reentered the conversational circle, the metal chair squealing as he scooted it forward. ‘About what?’

  ‘William had just joined Thorsen Dental this spring,’ Lynne said.

  I couldn’t be sure, but Hallonquist’s eyes seemed to narrow at the non-answer.

  Taylor kept his gaze on Ginny. ‘Do you know why Doctor Thorsen was so mad at your dad?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘No idea. Eric suggested we head out and we did.’

  ‘So your friend was expecting trouble.’

  Both Eric and I opened our mouths. Pavlik, seeming to sense it, threw us a warning glance over his shoulder.

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t want to hear parents bick
ering,’ Lynne Swope said. ‘What young person does? Besides, Eric was probably eager to get home.’

  ‘The Thorsens are divorced,’ Taylor said. ‘Which home did you take him to, Ginny?’

  This time Pavlik didn’t have to warn us.

  ‘His mom’s, up on the corner of Poplar Creek Road and Elm, I think it was. It’s a tiny place that’s kind of run-down. I’m not sure it’s even in Brookhills.’

  Ouch. The spoiled brat could take her Lexus and shove—

  Eric elbowed me. This was the downside of being close to your kid. He can read your nasty little mind. With a smile, my son held a finger to his lips.

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ I whispered.

  ‘You didn’t have to.’

  ‘… Key to his father’s place,’ Ginny was saying.

  Hallonquist raised his head after penning another note. ‘So you dropped Eric off on Poplar Creek and then went directly to your cousin’s house. Can you give me his or her name?

  ‘Her. And it’s Caitlin Callahan.’

  ‘And Caitlin’s address?’

  ‘No clue. But it’s on Silver Maple Drive.’ Ginny looked to her mother for confirmation and Lynne nodded.

  ‘But isn’t that …’ Hallonquist flipped back in the notebook, ‘… yes, that’s the same street Thorsen Dental is on. The corner of Brookhill and Silver Maple.’

  Again, something Hallonquist would have known without checking his notes. He’d just come from that location and Brookhills wasn’t a large place. ‘So you must have gone past the 501 Building where your dad’s office is, even if you didn’t stop.’

  Ginny was shaking her head. ‘I didn’t have to go that far south. Caitlin’s house is north of Brookhill Road, like Mrs Thorsen’s.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Nicer neighborhood, though.’

  I scooted sideways out of elbow range.

  ‘And what time did you leave your cousin’s house?’

  ‘Around ten maybe?’ Ginny said. ‘And before you ask, I drove south on Silver Maple to Brookhill Road because my mom and dad live about two miles east on it.’

  ‘That means you passed the parking lot and east side of the office building. Did you notice anything? Lights, maybe, or—’

  ‘Nothing,’ Ginny said. ‘Thank God.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Hallonquist asked.

  ‘I knew my dad would have wanted me to stop if he was there. But I was tired and … and, I just didn’t want to get into it.’

  I couldn’t judge whether the hitch in Ginny’s voice was regret or something else altogether.

  Hallonquist was bobbing his head. ‘Problems with Dad, huh?’

  ‘Fine. You got me.’ I could imagine the teenage roll of the eyes. ‘My grades weren’t good and I was afraid he would take away my car.’

  ‘Ginny!’ Lynne said.

  ‘Layoff, Mom, OK? Dad’s dead? Maybe there are more important things than my grades right now?’

  Aunt Mary’s uptick on the end of what should be a sentence might be hereditary. Though it sounded a lot more normal coming from a teenager.

  Lynne sniffled.

  Taylor jumped back in. ‘Let’s get back to this argument at the coffee shop, Mrs Swope. Can you tell me exactly what was said?’

  ‘I didn’t hear much,’ Lynne said. ‘Ted burst in just as we were all sitting down and called my husband a …’

  ‘Son of a bitch,’ Ginny supplied.

  ‘And?’ Taylor encouraged as Hallonquist wrote notes.

  Lynne shrugged. ‘That’s about it. Ted said Clay Tartare – that’s William’s partner in Louisville – had called and that this Rita Pahlke person had also talked to him. He seemed upset and said that he and William needed to discuss it.’

  ‘Rita Pahlke,’ Hallonquist repeated. ‘Isn’t that the woman who first discovered Doctor Swope’s body?’ Again, I was sure he knew the answer to his own question.

  ‘That’s what Maggy told me,’ Lynne said.

  ‘Do you know Ms Pahlke?’

  ‘I know of her,’ Lynne said. ‘She made a nuisance of herself outside William’s Louisville office, spouting crazy anti-government things.’

  ‘Is that why you moved?’ Hallonquist asked.

  ‘Oh, no. No, we wanted to be closer to Ginny’s school. But,’ she seemed to be giving the question more thought, ‘I do think William was glad to be away from the unpleasantness.’

  ‘Do you think it’s possible Doctor Swope didn’t tell Doctor Thorsen about the … unpleasantness?’ Hallonquist asked.

  ‘Perhaps.’ Lynne put both hands on the seat of her chair and pushed up, seeming to resettle herself. ‘But William couldn’t have had any way of knowing she’d follow us. It’s quite … well, unpleasant.’

  My kingdom for a thesaurus.

  ‘Assuming Ms Pahlke’s appearance was the reason for the argument,’ Hallonquist continued, ‘do you have any idea what the outcome was?’

  ‘Outcome?’

  Hallonquist shrugged. ‘Outcome, resolution. How did Doctor Swope and Doctor Thorsen leave it?’

  ‘Well, I only know what Maggy told me later.’

  Taylor’s eyes flitted my direction just enough for me to notice and then back. ‘And what was that?’

  ‘That she overheard Ted tell William to pack up his office and get out.’

  I had to admit Lynne was a good witness. That was pretty much word for word what I’d told her.

  ‘But you didn’t ask your husband about it yourself?’ Hallonquist asked.

  ‘No.’ There were tears in her voice. ‘William didn’t come back in so I … I didn’t get to talk to him again.’

  Ginny reached over and took her mother’s hand.

  ‘I’m confused, Mrs Swope. Where exactly was this argument? You said your husband,’ Hallonquist with the notes again, ‘“didn’t come back in,” but my impression was that this all took place in the coffeehouse.’

  Lynne shook her head. ‘Ted suggested they step outside.’

  ‘Like a fight?’ The question was from Ginny. She hadn’t witnessed this part and seemed more intrigued than distressed now.

  ‘No, of course not. Just to talk privately,’ her mother assured her.

  ‘Which explains why you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation,’ Hallonquist said. ‘But Mrs Thorsen did? How?’

  ‘Maggy was leaving for the day and went out that door so she passed them.’

  ‘Where do I register my surprise?’ Taylor muttered.

  Hallonquist might be wilier but I still much preferred him over Taylor, the macho jerk.

  ‘And Mrs Thorsen overheard the part about him packing up his office,’ Hallonquist continued. ‘Where were the men at this point, as far as you know?’

  ‘Still on the porch, I assume,’ Lynne said. ‘But, again, I have no independent knowledge of all this. I’m just repeating what Maggy told me.’

  Who needed a bus when Lynne could throw me under the porch?

  ‘Oh my God. Why don’t you just ask her?’ Ginny asked, flinging an arm in the direction of where Eric and I were sitting. ‘Mrs Thorsen is right out there. And, for that matter, Doctor Thorsen should be around somewhere and he should have a real good memory of what he said that made my father kill himself.’

  ‘Ginny!’ Another reprimand from Lynne.

  ‘That’s fine, Mrs Swope,’ Detective Hallonquist said. ‘Ginny is asking a good question. And the answer is that we interview multiple people because recollections of an event can differ. Having two or more versions helps, especially in a case like this where people are afraid they’re responsible for what happened. They tend to …’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Taylor supplied.

  ‘I was thinking sugarcoat.’ Hallonquist’s head was bobbing again. ‘But the fact is, Ginny, that we’re not trying to assign blame. We’re looking for a precipitating event that we can document. Something that led to the outcome. It makes everybody’s life easier.’

  ‘Except for the guy who jumped out of the building,’ Ginny snapped.
>
  ‘Listen, missy.’ This was Taylor. And though his tone was straightforward it surprisingly wasn’t unkind. ‘I’ve worked a lot of suicides and every one of them leaves a torn-up family behind. People spend the rest of their lifetimes beating themselves up, wondering what they should or could have done or said different. Don’t do it.’

  ‘I’m not—’ Ginny started.

  Taylor held up a finger. ‘I mean it. Don’t do it to yourself, don’t let other people do it to you and don’t you do it to other people.’ He stood up. ‘There are some questions that just don’t have answers. Not answers we’ll ever be privy to, anyway.’

  NINE

  ‘So the bad cop isn’t so bad after all?’ Sarah asked.

  I’d arrived at the shop two hours late, much to my partner’s displeasure. When I relayed the events of the morning, though, she perked right up.

  ‘I still think Taylor’s a jerk but maybe buried under the swagger there’s a human being.’ I slipped a copy of Gone Girl, left over from the book club meeting the night before, onto our bookshelf next to the condiment cart. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help with the Saturday morning rush.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah – you said that. Sit down and talk to me.’

  Since it was still half an hour before lunch and the place was empty, I obeyed and took the chair across from my partner. She had a coffee mug in her hand and a sticky bun in front of her.

  She unrolled a coil of the roll and dangled a five-inch length of gooey deliciousness in front of my face. ‘Want some?’

  I was tempted for a second, but as the melted sugar and spice started to rappel off the pastry toward the table top, I shook my head. ‘You’re going to get that all over the place.’

  ‘Your loss.’ She tipped her head back and, holding the coil overhead, lowered it into her mouth like a sword swallower with a limp, sticky … sword.

  Forcing my eyes away, I said, ‘I must say I was also impressed by Taylor’s use of the word “privy.”’

  ‘As in john?’ Sarah swallowed. ‘Porta-potty?’

  She was mocking me.

  ‘Privy, as in “aware of.” Nobody uses words like that anymore.’

  ‘Oh, for the good old days of verbiage,’ Sarah said, swiping at her sticky cheek. ‘So what else happened?’