Day of the Dead

by Brenda Donelan

  “What do you mean?” asked Marlee.

  “It’s no secret that the chief doesn’t have time for homosexuals or for minorities in this town,” she said bitterly. “I think he probably decided to rule this a suicide as soon as no likely suspect turned up. He doesn’t want to waste his time or ruin his reputation further with an unsolved murder on his hands. Especially since he’s in so much disfavor already.”

  “That’s right,” said Marlee, recalling the pressure some of the Elmwood residents had placed on the mayor and the city commission to oust Chief Langdon just a few months prior. “Have things started to settle down in the department yet?”

  “A bit, especially after the chief backed off his idea of mixing up shifts. Once officers realized that they wouldn’t be forced to rotate shifts then everything calmed down a bit. Logan LeCroix’s death has caused quite a bit of contention in the department. We all know the chief’s thoughts on the case, but a lot of us don’t believe it was a suicide,” said Bettina. “The chief doesn’t want to hear about our thoughts, and anyone who disagrees with him on this gets a strike against their record.”

  “Really?” asked Marlee. “So there’s a good deal of support in the department for the theory that this was a murder?”

  “Yes, there is. I’m new here, so I can’t say much without it coming back to haunt me. Several of the patrol officers and a few of the detectives don’t buy the suicide theory,” said Bettina.

  “Who’s been questioned as a possible suspect in the case?” asked Marlee.

  “Logan’s partner, Joe Tisdale, was questioned. His alibi checked out. He was with some friends on an extended weekend getaway back home in California. They didn’t return from the park where they were camping until Monday around noon. Logan’s body was discovered very early Monday morning, so he couldn’t have done it,” reported Bettina.

  “Anything to suggest he might have hired someone?” inquired Marlee.

  “Not so far, but Krause and Lumar are still checking on it. At one time, I heard that one or both of them might be going out to California to do some interviews of neighbors, friends and others, but now that the chief is ready to announce this as a suicide, it won’t happen,” said Bettina.

  The waitress delivered the mozzarella sticks along with ranch dressing and pizza sauce. She set down their beers in front of them and whirled off to accommodate another table. “Who else was questioned?” asked Marlee, grabbing the first mozzarella stick and dipping it into the warm pizza sauce.

  “The only other person I know of who was seriously considered a person of interest was Nate Krause. Do you know him? He’s a student at MSU,” said Bettina.

  “Funny you should mention Nate Krause. I just met him and talked to him a bit this afternoon,” said Marlee. “Why was he interviewed? Did he make any threats against Logan?”

  “No threats that I’ve heard, but he seemed a bit obsessed with the professor. Students we talked with said Nate spent a lot of time before and after class talking to Dr. LeCroix,” said Bettina.

  “That’s what I heard too. I met Joe Tisdale yesterday and had lunch with him and one of the secretaries from campus. He said that Logan told him a student came over to his apartment twice and tried to talk his way in. I talked to Nate, and he confirmed that he was over there once asking for additional help with French,” stated Marlee.

  “Hmmmm… that adds even more twists to the case. I know this kid is disturbed. He has a history of mental health issues and has been in the psychiatric ward of the hospital numerous times,” said Bettina.

  “Do you know if he’s dangerous?” asked Marlee.

  “Well, he’s on probation right now for an assault on a former high school classmate. I’m not sure if he has a tendency toward violence, or if this was just a one-time thing. His probation officer is Vince Chipperton. You might talk to him for more details,” said Bettina.

  “Sure, I know Chipper. I’ll check with him and see what he can tell me about Nate’s background and mental illness.” Marlee was already anticipating her meeting with the studly probation officer.

  “What complicates the case even more is that Nate Krause is the little brother of Mike Krause, one of the lead detectives on the case,” said Bettina.

  “What? Isn’t that a huge conflict of interest?” questioned Marlee, knowing that detectives should not interview their own friends and relatives whenever possible.

  “I guess Lumar is the one who interviewed Nate. Still, Lumar and Krause are partners, so there’s some sharing of information,” said Bettina.

  “Do you think there’s any attempt at some type of cover-up by Lumar and Krause?” asked Marlee, knowing that this wouldn’t be the first time that law enforcement officers covered for their family or the relatives of their partners.

  “I’ve wondered about that myself,” said Bettina “but I don’t know of anything specific.”

  The waitress came by and took their orders. Marlee requested blackened walleye, and Bettina ordered steak, medium rare. “So if you had to, who would you guess killed Logan?” asked Marlee.

  Bettina grabbed the last cheese stick and swirled it around in the remaining ranch dressing. “I don’t know for sure. I’ve been going over it in my head. Who would want him dead? We’ve all heard the rumor about the Witness Protection Program and the mob hit, but those don’t really hold water.”

  “Do you know for sure that he wasn’t in the Witness Protection Program?” asked Marlee. “When I was a probation officer, we knew that there were some people in the program that were relocated to South Dakota, but we didn’t know who they were or the details that got them relocated here. The U.S. Marshals were the only ones who knew. Is it possible that he was in Witness Protection, and it just wasn’t common knowledge in the PD?”

  “Well, that could be, I suppose. Although I think it would’ve come out by now, since his death, if he had been in Witness Protection. I’ll do some more asking around about that,” said Bettina.

  “Could he have been killed as an accident?” asked Marlee. She was aware of a story going around campus that Logan was killed by a stray bullet. This seemed a bit far-fetched as she hadn’t heard of random gun shots on campus in the year she’d worked there.

  “It was hunting season, so there were more people in the area with guns, but I really don’t think it was an accident. Besides, the gun used was not for hunting,” replied Bettina.

  “What can you tell me about the gun? The last I heard it was unregistered and untraceable,” said Marlee.

  “That’s right. One of the outside consultants on the case is a firearms expert. He looked at not only the gun, but also the angle of bullet entry and the wound. So far nothing has been discovered about who owned it. There was some blowback on the gun itself, which was shown to be Logan’s blood and tissue. I think that’s one of the main reasons it’s a suspected a suicide,” said Bettina, clearing away her utensils so the server could set down her plate of food. “Mmmmmm... I love a good juicy steak.”

  “OK, no more talk about forensics stuff while we eat,” suggested Marlee as she picked up her fork and sized up her blackened walleye. The fish was accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and a sautéed vegetable medley.

  Bettina nodded as she cut into her steak, the pink juices running in various directions on the large serving plate. The two ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the elaborate entrees set before them. “Is there any kind of financial motive?” asked Marlee, finally breaking the silence.

  “I think Logan and Joe were financially stable and actually, quite comfortable. I don’t get the sense that Logan was rolling in the dough,” replied Bettina.

  “He was a professor at a community college, so I can’t imagine he was earning all that much. Did he have any type of savings or inheritance?” asked Marlee.

  “None that I’ve heard about. They co-owned the home they shared in California, but there was a mortgage. There were a couple of life insurance policies, and Joe was the beneficiary of bo
th of them, but I don’t know the values,” said Bettina, brushing her dark bangs away from her forehead.

  “Will he be able to collect on the policies if Logan’s death is ruled a suicide?” asked Marlee.

  “I don’t know. It depends on the specifics of the policies,” said Bettina.

  “Have you heard anything about gay men in Elmwood getting together in a group and beating up a person who rejected the sexual advances of one in the group?” asked Marlee.

  “No, I haven’t heard of anything like that. I know of specific gay couples in which one or both have been violent toward another person or each other, but I’ve never heard anything about groups being organized to beat up someone,” said Bettina.

  “Do you think domestic violence happens more in the gay population?” asked Marlee.

  “I don’t know that it occurs any more regularly,” said Bettina “but I think we talk about it more because there’s still a stigma placed on homosexuals.”

  Marlee nodded. “Do you know about any hate crimes here in town?”

  “There are plenty of crimes where homosexuals are the victims, but I don’t think any of them are officially classified as hate crimes. Like I said before, the chief isn’t overly sympathetic to gays, lesbians or racial minorities,” Bettina reported.

  “But the prosecutor could step in and charge it as a hate crime,” Marlee said.

  “Right, but one of the problems with a hate crime is proving intent,” Bettina stated.

  “Yep, prosecutors have to show that the offender selected the victim based on something specific, like race or sexual orientation,” said Marlee. “I spent several years researching this very topic for my dissertation and some research papers. Some have suggested that one reason more crimes aren’t prosecuted as hate crimes is because it’s tantamount to punishing people for thoughts, like hate.”

  “I’ve heard that too. I went to police training in Albuquerque a couple years ago where one of the speakers referred to hate crime as thought crime. Obviously, she wasn’t a big believer in charging someone with a more severe crime and giving them a harsher penalty just because they hated the group the person belonged to,” said Bettina.

  “What’s interesting about hate crimes,” said Marlee, stepping into professor mode, “is that the perpetrator doesn’t have to hate the victim or the group. What constitutes a hate crime is that the perp selected the victim based on actual or perceived group membership. In other words, somebody might assault a person believing they are gay but not have any particular hatred toward them. Or, the perp might assault someone believing they are gay, but in fact, they are not.”

  “I didn’t realize that. I thought all perpetrators hated their victims in a hate crime,” said Bettina.

  “Often they do, but it’s not a requirement. Let’s say there’s a group of five guys who decide to beat up a gay person. Two of the members might actually hate gays while the other three in the group agree to just go along with it. They participate in the assault, but they don’t truly hate gay people. Everyone involved in the assault, except the victim, can be charged with a hate crime. The actual feelings toward the target don’t matter. What does count is that the victim is targeted due to his or her sexual orientation, race, or whatever. Sorry to launch into a lecture,” said Marlee, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish about her speech. She was passionate about the topic and had been involved in studying and researching it for years. In fact, she was in the process of putting together a proposal to teach a class on hate crimes in an upcoming semester.

  “No, I get it,” said Bettina, pointing to her dark-skinned forearm. “Obviously it’s an interest area for me too.”

  “Have you been a victim of hate crimes?” asked Marlee, realizing that for her Native American friend this topic was much more than just an academic discussion.

  “I’ve been called names, followed around in stores to make sure I’m not stealing anything and stuff like that. As far as being assaulted or robbed or anything like that, no, I haven’t,” said Bettina.

  “Have you experienced a lot of racism since moving to Elmwood?” asked Marlee. “My students who come to MSU from other states frequently tell me this is a really racist town.”

  “I don’t know if I would say a lot, but some, that’s for sure. Most of what happens isn’t even spoken. When I came into this restaurant today and asked to be seated, the hostess gave me a funny look, like she couldn’t believe I would have the money to eat here. Then, when I ordered a beer, I got a look from the waitress like, ‘Here’s another alcoholic Indian.’ You could drink twice as much as me tonight, and the waitress and hostess will only notice what I drank. They want to believe the stereotypes of the drunken Indian and go out of their way to look for it, meanwhile ignoring the same behavior in their own race,” said Bettina.

  Marlee felt her face flush. She didn’t have to worry about being prejudged or stereotyped based on her race, and she was sad that Bettina had those experiences. Even more, she was infuriated that this subtle racism occurred in Elmwood in this day and age. The two of them were dressed similarly in jeans and sweatshirts, but Marlee knew others in the restaurant would judge Bettina more harshly for dressing casually.

  “What do you do when these types of things happen?” asked Marlee.

  “What can I do? Technically, nobody says anything. It’s all in the way they look at me. It’s hard to confront someone based on their expression or how you think they perceive you. I can say that things have gotten better here over the years. When I was a kid, we would come to Elmwood from the rez to do some shopping once or twice a year. Back then, I remember being called names in the parking lot and being followed around in stores by employees to make sure I didn’t steal. Another time, we went to eat at a café, and the manager came over and asked us to pay for our meal before it was served. He assumed that we wouldn’t have the money. I didn’t see anyone else paying before they ate. Just us. It was so humiliating. I never went back there. Those types of things haven’t happened to me in Elmwood in a long time. Now, I just get looks from people,” said Bettina.

  “Maybe things haven’t gotten any better. Maybe people are harboring the same attitudes but just know it’s socially unacceptable to say anything,” commented Marlee. “By the way, what café did it happen at?”

  “The Chit Chat,” stated Bettina.

  “Whoa! I had no idea. Well, they just lost me as a customer,” said Marlee.

  “It was a long time ago, and they probably have different managers and policies now. Still, I can’t get it out of my mind and have never wanted to go back,” Bettina was lost in thought for a moment before she mumbled, “Too many bad memories.”

  “I don’t blame you,” said Marlee.

  “Let’s switch topics for a minute. Did you meet the new social worker in town, Tim Deal?” asked Bettina.

  “No, why?” asked Marlee.

  “Well, he asked me out, and we have a date tomorrow night!” Bettina exclaimed.

  “Hey, that’s great! Do you have a babysitter lined up?” Marlee asked, hoping that Bettina wasn’t going to ask her to watch her children for the evening. Not that Marlee had a problem with Bettina’s kids. It’s just that she really wasn’t a kid person. She liked being around little ones for brief periods of time but had no desire for any children of her own.

  “Yeah, my neighbor is going to watch them for me. We trade off babysitting for each other. I trust her, and we have similar ideas on how to raise kids, so it works well for both of us. Plus, she actually likes kids,” said Bettina with a smile. Marlee did a mental happy dance since she wasn’t being called upon to babysit.

  “Well, are you ready to go? I’ll get the check,” said Marlee waving over the waitress.

  “Um, not until I get dessert. You know I’m gonna have to eat like a bird tomorrow on my date, so I need cheesecake tonight,” said Bettina.

  “Well, cheesecake does sound good. I suppose I should have some too so you won’t have to eat alone.” Marlee’s
low-carb plan was now a distant memory.

  As they were finishing their desserts, Marlee and Bettina returned to the discussion of Logan LeCroix’s death. “Joe Tisdale told me that Logan said someone in his building had made some negative comments about his sexual orientation. He didn’t know they guy’s name, but knew he lived in Logan’s apartment building on another floor. Had you heard anything about this?”

  “Joe told us the same thing. The detectives were supposed to follow up on it, but I don’t know if they did since the chief is set on the suicide ruling,” said Bettina.

  “Do you know if anything was taken from Logan?” asked Marlee.

  “We don’t know for sure. His wallet was at the scene, but there wasn’t any cash in it. His driver’s license, credit cards and MSU identification card were all there. His backpack was there too, but nothing of significance was inside. Something, like money, might be missing, but we just don’t know,” said Bettina.

  As the two were preparing to leave, Marlee took note of their waitress and the hostess. Just as Bettina said, they both gave her a disapproving look as she exited the restaurant. Marlee met their looks with a cold stare and raised her eyebrows. She wanted them to know that she knew what was going on. It probably wouldn’t do any good, but it made Marlee feel a bit better knowing she was not tolerating their behavior, albeit in a very small way.

  As Bettina opened her car door, she shouted her thanks to Marlee for the meal. Marlee called out, “No problem. Thanks for the help. Let me know how your date goes.” As she hopped in her Honda CRV, she realized that she was a bit jealous of her friend. What did she have to do to get a date in this town?

  Kindness and understanding can be found in the strangest places. They can also be absent in places you would expect to find them. Boardrooms, chatrooms, classrooms and courtrooms exemplify both extremes.

  Chapter 18

  When Marlee arrived home that evening, she found a note from Diane indicating that she felt safe now and had returned to her apartment. Marlee flopped down on the couch. Now who was she going to chat with? She had no intention of ever getting a roommate, but it had been comforting and even fun at times to have Diane stay with her. She knew Diane was probably getting tired of sleeping on the couch and would be anxious to return to her own home. Pippa ambled over to the couch and rubbed against Marlee’s leg. Picking up the giant fur ball in her arms, Marlee said, “Well, it’s just you and me now.” Pippa looked up at her and started to purr.