by Sandra Balzo
I knew that my mouth had fallen open so I closed it. And then opened it again. ‘Are you telling me William Swope did commit suicide?’
‘Hell, no,’ she said, turning the key, ‘I swung that tank for all my might. Sent him straight through that pane of glass.’
At least I had the satisfaction, if you could call it that, of being right. ‘The oxygen went with him?’
‘I threw that out after. Figured it would look like he busted out the window with it and jumped. And it worked, for a while.’
‘Is that why you flipped the body? To make it look like the head wound was from hitting the ground?’
She tilted her head. ‘That wasn’t my idea. But it was a damned good one, to give credit where credit is due. And to clean the blood off the oxygen tank, too.’
I was still trying to work through everything and didn’t catch the meaning of her words at first. ‘Wait, whose idea was it then? Your son’s?’
‘Jamie? You don’t think I’d involve him in this, do you? I protect my children.’
‘Then who?’
‘Why, the woman who owed it to Bethany for all the hurt she’d caused her in the first place. Her mother.’
‘The junkie?’ I was thinking furiously.
‘This was all her idea in the first place. Bethany told her all about Swope’s shenanigans. She came to see me after the funeral and I decided that, junkie or not, she was right. Swope owed us.’
Then I had it. The same hairline but on a brunette.
‘Rita Pahlke is the twins’ mother.’ I stepped back a half-step. ‘So you didn’t just meet her at Uncommon Grounds that morning. It was all an act to—’
But Diane suddenly floored the accelerator and off she went, propelling the Accent up over the parking barrier.
I jumped into the Escape and followed, wondering where the hell the cavalry was. I’d done my part, first keeping Diane Laudon talking and now tailing her. I could tell you one thing: Pavlik’s people would be on their own snagging Rita Pahlke. Assuming Bethany’s birth mother was still in town.
The Accent turned right onto Silver Maple and then left onto Brookhill Road.
My phone was on the seat next to me and now it rang. Pavlik, thank the Lord. ‘I’m on Brookhill Road heading east following Diane Laudon’s blue Accent,’ I said without preamble. ‘I didn’t get the license number but I think she might be heading for the freeway.’
‘You’re driving?’ While it wasn’t technically illegal to talk on a cell phone while behind the wheel in Wisconsin, it was frowned upon. Especially by Pavlik.
‘I’m being careful, but if she gets onto the highway we’re going to lose her. Oops.’ Cut off a Honda.
‘Oops, wha—’ Pavlik started to say. Then, ‘I won’t ask what this woman said and why she’s running now. I’m sending squads. Once you hear them, back off. What cross street are you passing?’
‘I’m approaching Highway 108, and you need to pick up Rita Pahlke, too.’
‘Pahlke? Why?’
‘I’ll explain late—’ I broke off. ‘Oh, dear Lord.’
‘What? What?’ Pavlik was sounding a little panicked.
‘The traffic circle,’ I said. ‘I hate traffic circles.’
‘Why—’ Again the sheriff broke off. ‘Put the phone down and pay attention to your driving.’
Roger. The Accent was approaching the roundabout now, Diane Laudon forced to come nearly to a stop behind a red car yielding to traffic. As I closed in the Accent plunged into the circle, my Escape almost on her bumper. In the distance I could hear sirens, but ‘in the distance’ wasn’t good enough. Once out of the circle Diane would be at the freeway ramp.
As the red car ahead of the Accent shifted to the center lane of the roundabout I made my move, accelerating and veering to the left, just clipping the Accent on the rear bumper.
The car swerved right and from my higher vantage point in my little SUV I could see Diane fighting the wheel. She brought it back into the lane and accelerated, tires squealing. I stayed close. We were going too fast, I thought, to risk the abrupt change of direction needed to exit onto one of the four arterials that fanned off the roundabout. Too fast to do anything, in fact, but keep the wheel cranked and go round and round.
Oh, and pray. I was praying.
We passed first the one turn-off, then the second. A silver Toyota just nosing out slammed on its brakes as I sailed by. I hunched against the driver’s door as if my body weight was the difference between the Escape flipping or not. I could imagine my higher, boxier vehicle doing cartwheels until it came to rest on one of the surrounding lawns, while Diane’s ground-hugging Accent continued on its merry way.
As we passed the spot we’d entered the circle, I realized I had to make a move before we gained much more speed. Taking a deep breath, I stepped on the gas pedal. The Escape surged forward and this time it caught the Accent squarely on its left taillight. The blue car went abruptly to the right, according to plan. I went left, which wasn’t so much the plan. Yanking the wheel to avoid the center island, I saw the Accent hit the opposite curb.
Diane screamed as the car went airborne.
THIRTY-FIVE
The Accent landed halfway up the flat front lawn of a two-story colonial.
Me, I continued around the circle one last time, my foot trembling on the gas pedal.
Tremulous victory lap complete, I pulled my Escape up on the grass next to Diane’s. Ramming cars and running them off the road wasn’t in my usual repertoire and now I struggled with an act as simple as putting the SUV into park and turning off the ignition. As an afterthought, I pulled the handbrake. Then I sat, trying to slow my breathing.
The door of the Accent cracked open.
Goddammit. Fumbling to undo my seat belt, I yanked open the door and launched myself after Diane, who was already sprinting toward the house.
My first thought was damn, she’s fast for a fifty-something. My second was where did she think she was going?
Then I saw the black car parked on the garage apron. A newly washed Mercedes, water beads still glistening and the engine running. If the owner was stupid enough to leave that car out here with the engine on and door unlocked, I had half a mind to let Diane steal it.
But no. I’d come this far, triumphed over the traffic circle – used its centrifugal force to take out the Accent, in fact – and I was going to see this through.
Besides, the woman was at least a decade older than I was.
Pride spurring me on, I dredged up my last trace of adrenaline to close the distance between us and throw myself at the back of the office manager’s knees. The inspiration for the takedown was my success with the bump from behind on the traffic circle, but I had to admit it was a lot more painful without the cars.
Diane landed hard on the cobblestone driveway, me just short of her. Pushing myself up, hands bleeding, I—
Splurt.
What the hell? I looked around to see a thirty-something in khaki shorts wielding a super-sized garden nozzle. He was hosing us down like we were two strays in a dog fight.
‘Wait,’ I sputtered. ‘I’m—’
‘I don’t care who you are,’ he said, blasting me again. ‘You destroyed my lawn and you’re going to wait right here. Listen.’ He pointed skyward as if the sirens were coming from above.
In reality, they were circling. And as I sank back down next to a soggy, silent Diane, the wheeled cavalry finally arrived.
‘So you have Diane Laudon in custody, but is there any sign of Rita Pahlke?’ If sitting in Pavlik’s office was always a little awkward, today was downright painful. And not just because my palms and knees were starting to scab over.
‘Not yet. As it turns out, Pahlke’s a petty criminal who’s been on the streets and in and out of the system for years. The woman knows how to be invisible.’
‘Like acting nuts, so everybody looks the other way.’ I shifted in the guest chair. ‘While according to Diane this whole thing was Rita’s idea. She
’s even the one who flipped the body and cleaned off the oxygen tank early Friday morning to make William’s death look like a suicide.’
‘Sadly for them, our medical examiners aren’t stupid. The blow was obviously ante-mortem and there were still traces of blood on the canister. Even with the rain.’ His tone said, ‘Amateurs.’
I hid a smile. ‘You have to admit that Rita was crafty, right down to being back at the hotel to buy coffee at seven. That way she could be seen picketing for a while before discovering the body at nine with Eric and me as witnesses.’
‘Oh, she was crafty, all right. Unless Laudon can prove Pahlke was the mastermind, the only thing we may be able to charge her with is tampering with evidence.’
The birth mother covering up a crime the adopted mother committed at the birth mother’s suggestion. Made one’s head spin.
‘On the other hand,’ Pavlik continued, ‘Lynne Swope claims Pahlke was blackmailing her husband. Maybe the DA here or in Louisville can make that stick.’
‘Diane said Bethany confided in her birth mother.’ Probably another attempt on the girl’s part to bond with somebody. Anybody. Everybody. ‘Rita must have decided to leverage what she knew to squeeze William, using the crazy act as cover.’
‘From all reports, the “crazy” wasn’t an act.’
Meaning a possible insanity plea. I wouldn’t put it past the woman. ‘But what about Diane? What’ll happen to her?’
‘Her attorney will probably argue that William Swope accidentally tripped and fell against the window during their argument. That she did nothing worse than panic and try to cover it up. In my mind, though, it’s premeditated murder.’
‘She told me she swung at him in a moment of rage.’
‘After stalking the man and getting herself hired at his place of employment.’
Fair argument. But, ‘Diane wasn’t in her right mind. She believed that William turned Bethany into a junkie like her mother and then dumped her.’
‘You realize you’re defending the woman you ran off the road and then captured.’
‘Not according to the guy with the hose. You should have heard the hero on last night’s news.’
Pavlik’s lips twitched. ‘So I’ll tell the DA to call him instead of you as a witness for the prosecution.’
‘I don’t want to be a witness for anybody. Especially the Swope women. As it turns out, Lynne really wasn’t at the office that night and Ginny arrived after William was dead just like they said. Not that you’d know that from all the lies and half-truths they told. Any chance there’ll still be a criminal investigation into what was truly going on in the Louisville office?’
‘That’s up to law enforcement there. But with William Swope and Bethany Wheeler dead …’ Pavlik shrugged.
So maybe Lynne would get her wish and all this – or at least any fall-out from William’s role in the fraud – would go away. She, Ginny and their cost basis could live happily ever after. Far, far away, I hoped. ‘Poor Clay Tartare is still left holding the bag.’
‘He is.’ Pavlik stood, the interview apparently at an end. ‘You were right about the back of Swope’s shirt being dry, you know. And the lividity indicating the body had been moved. In fact, you were right about a lot of things.’ The sheriff didn’t look happy about it.
‘I’ll try not to continue the streak.’ I expected – hoped for – a wisp of a grin.
When I didn’t get it I got to my feet, too. ‘Well, I’d better get home. Ted is driving Eric back to school tomorrow morning and we have one last frozen pizza to eat before he goes. And a movie to watch. He ate all the ice cream.’ I knew I was babbling so I stuck out my hand.
Pavlik, who’d come around the desk, didn’t take it. ‘I do love you, you know.’
I started to say that I did know but the truth was, ‘No, I didn’t know.’
‘I’m sorry, Maggy.’ He shook his head. ‘This has been eating at me for a while.’
Don’t cry, Maggy. But I did want to understand. ‘Are you sorry because you love me? Or because you don’t want to see me anymore?’
The sheriff opened his mouth but I held up one of my scraped hands, suddenly afraid of the answer. ‘It’s who I am, Pavlik. I would die for my son and maybe even my big, smelly sheepdog. I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. And I’m not nearly as nice as people think I am – which, admittedly, is saying something.’ I shrugged. ‘But it’s part of the package.’ I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. ‘And I’m sorry, too.’
As I turned to leave the sheriff touched my shoulder. ‘When you followed me into the Everglades I realized something.’
‘That I have a future in law enforcement?’ I wanted to see him smile.
But his eyes got even darker. ‘I realized that I did love you.’
Did. We were very close and the sheriff smelled of Dial soap and aftershave. It was unfair of him to do this to me only to say goodbye, and I didn’t know what else there was to say.
I settled on, ‘Thank you.’
A tiny grin slipped away. ‘I have plans to run for a second term as sheriff.’
‘And I’m a political liability,’ I finished for him.
‘You’re a pain in the butt is what I was going to say.’
Now I was the one who smiled.
‘Ever since I was a little boy,’ Pavlik said, ‘I’ve never been sure of what I wanted until I didn’t have it anymore.’
‘By then it’s too late.’
‘Exactly.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I don’t want it to be too late. But … I needed to figure things out.’
We were going around in circles. ‘Which is what you said.’
‘And almost immediately realized it was the very last thing that I wanted.’
‘What was?’
‘To be without you.’
What? I pushed back from him, forgetting my smarting palms. ‘You couldn’t have told me? I’ve been miserable these last few days.’
‘It’s been thirty-six hours.’
Truly? ‘Well, it feels longer.’
‘For me, too.’ He pulled me close again.
‘But what about Taylor?’ I murmured into his chest after a moment. ‘And the rest of them. Losing their respect, I mean.’
‘The way I see it, respect me, respect my wife.’
I went very still. ‘What?’
Pavlik placed his finger under my chin and tipped my face up to his. There were silver flecks in his blue eyes.
‘Maggy Thorsen, will you marry me?’