The Long Dark January: A Nadine Kelso Mystery

by A. S. Andrews

  “So he provoked his killer,” Jen said.

  “In a manner of speaking. Roach wasn’t honest with me the first time I talked to him. He told me about his past, changing his name from Karlheinz Rasmussen, and about abandoning his wife and son when he moved.”

  Jen looked towards Tim Miller, who shifted his weight forward, leaning halfway off the couch.

  “I spent the morning visiting his ex-wife,” Nadine said. “She’s remarried now, retired from a job teaching history. She told me about Roach’s behavior. He’d never taken an interest in their child, and saw the marriage as an inconvenience. To hear her tell it, Roach was the kind of person destined to end up in prison. She was surprised he wasn’t there now.”

  Nadine coughed and took a drink of coffee. Roach was looking past Jen towards the entrance. She wondered if he was contemplating escape, or worried about someone else entering and seeing them there.

  “Andrew mentioned two things to Kelly Wells. A lie and a truth. The lie was that Susan and Bobby weren’t coming home. He told her this as part of his attempt at seduction. The truth he told was that he was involved in the mission to stop Karl Roach. He’d helped make the sign, and would happily go further, to drive the killer out of town. Maybe he said this to make himself seem courageous and daring.” To Kelly, Nadine said, “Who did you tell these things to?”

  Kelly shook her head. “No one, I don’t think.”

  “The killer believed Andrew to be at home alone, sleeping. The plan was to kill him. There was no thought to Susan and the child, since the killer believed them to be staying somewhere else.

  “Kelly left the house before Andrew. She knew he’d received a phone call, but didn’t know it was his mother-in-law, asking him to pick up his son. The killer saw him leave. Then they entered, sabotaged the detector, and left, knowing they would return that night to finish Andrew off.

  “And they did, since they had the clicker and engine starter from earlier. Soon the house was flooded. They knew that to make the crime seem accidental, they’d have to remove the car from the garage, but leave the generator on. At no point did they check the other bedrooms. Why would they?

  “It was a monstrous crime, but the killer had only intended for Andrew to die. Susan had been accidental. But if she was with Andrew, she was like him. Nothing to mourn.” Nadine looked over at the Gordons’ killer. “That’s what you thought, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was,” said Kelly Wells.

  Chapter 56

  Kelly looked from Nadine to Roach, while the room studied her. She’d lost some color to her face, and seemed resigned to what would come. Jen thought the young woman seemed halfway relieved.

  “Should I tell the rest of it?” Nadine asked.

  “Go ahead,” said Kelly.

  “The same night that Karl Roach told me about his wife and son, Kelly mentioned her parents in Portland. That’s where I drove this morning, to the house of Mrs. Josephine Wells, formerly Josephine Rasmussen.

  “She told me that her daughter had moved out a few years ago, had found work in a small town and was taking distance education courses in her spare time. What Kelly was really doing, though, was looking for her father. She’d researched Roach, knew he was a suspect, but also knew that this was her one chance to meet her flesh and blood. To understand why her mother refused to answer questions about the man.

  “Mrs. Wells told me she regretted not being truthful with you,” Nadine said to the young woman. “She felt it best to keep him a secret. Of course, that only made you want answers that much more.”

  “It did,” Kelly said.

  “You tracked his name change, found where he lived, moved here and took a job at the Traveler’s Lodge. You went on long walks, hoping to run into him. I assume you saw the sign that Andrew and Peter Quayle put up?”

  “I did.”

  “You hadn’t quite worked up the courage to confront your father. But you saw him around town. Who would torture an old man? Someone never convicted of murder, yet punished just the same? It wasn’t fair. Quayle was stirring up others against your father, and you hadn’t even had a chance to talk.”

  Kelly nodded. Roach, for his part, seemed on the verge of tears.

  “I imagine that day went something like this. You passed Andrew in the afternoon and were invited to his house for dinner. He told you the wife and kid were away, and wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Maybe he started his seduction attempts and you broke them off. But at some point the two of you began talking about Karl Roach. Andrew was proud of helping Quayle, wasn’t he?”

  “He told me he’d run my father out of town,” Kelly said. “Or kill him.” Her voice was flat.

  “Here you were, in the sanctity of this man’s house, listening to him boast about the pain he’d inflict on your father. The phone rang and soon you were asked to leave, before you’d even sorted out how you felt. You watched him drive off. Did you have the clickers at that point?”

  “They were in the Jeep,” Kelly said. “At first he offered me a ride. He said to climb in the car and wait and he’d be out in a minute. I saw the clickers there and decided what to do. I told him I had to run, and I’d walk back to work. I took them and then left.”

  “And watched him,” Nadine said. “And waited.”

  “He wasn’t long. He backed the car out of the garage, then shut the door and walked out from the back. I followed the same route inside. The carbon monoxide detector was easy enough to damage—I’d done a lot of repair work at the Lodge, and I’ve always had a good mind for electronics. A knife from the kitchen drawer was all I needed.”

  “You left the Lodge twice that night,” Nadine said.

  “It’s not very busy, especially once the bar closes. Nero sleeps behind the counter, so if anyone comes, they’d see him and assume I was back there. I left like you said, walked over and drove the car into the garage. That door was so loud in the middle of the night—thankfully the generator was on. I opened the door leading into the house and then started the car and closed it up.”

  “You went back hours later,” Nadine said.

  Kelly nodded. “I walked back to work and cleaned up a bit, but couldn’t concentrate. I had to force myself to wait two hours. I figured by that time Andrew would be dead.

  “I walked to the house and it looked like nothing had been disturbed. I took a big breath and opened the garage door, rushed to the car and drove it out. Even that short little time gave me a doozy of a headache.

  “I wiped the clickers and left them in the car. Then walked away. I didn’t see anyone around. I finished my shift at the Lodge, went to sleep, and when I woke up I heard about Susan and Bobby.”

  She drew in a quick breath, and looked up at Ingrid.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know they would be there. I only wanted to protect my father.”

  Ingrid couldn’t answer her. Jen noticed her hands gripping the shoulders of Tim Miller, trembling.

  “What about the shooting?” Jen said.

  “Do you want to tell them?” Nadine asked Kelly.

  “You,” she said in a childish voice.

  “At some point between my arrival and the shooting, Kelly and Karl Roach had occasion to talk. She explained that she was his daughter, and that she’d done this terrible thing for him. Am I right?”

  Roach nodded.

  “What happened next?”

  “We talked, and I tell her what to do,” Roach said. “Say nothing. I know Peter Quayle will suspect me. Everyone will. I have an old rifle, and I tell her to visit the coffee shop. I fire twice, make very sure not to hurt them, only to scare.”

  “And then planted the gun on me,” Quayle said, with remarkably little malice.

  “Yes. I know you hate me. When I go inside your house, I see the wall and the photo of me and my daughter. I take it because even if they catch me, they will not suspect her. I also tell Kelly to mention to the police that she has a good family. They probably won’t look. And w
hen you come to my house—” he spoke to Nadine—“I mentioned my former wife and boy.”

  “It was clever,” Nadine said. “You’ve obviously had practice.”

  Roach pointed at her. “You sent me that note,” he said, “knowing it would make me confess to protect her. It’s a trick, yes?”

  “Not a trick at all,” Nadine said. “What I wrote was the truth. I would have told them what your daughter had done.”

  “Was very smart,” said Roach. And pointed his pistol at her.

  Chapter 57

  Gary Gordon and Peter Quayle stood up, though a shift in the direction of the gun barrel froze them by their seats. Kelly was crying. Ingrid had leaned back into her grandson, either to shield him or to keep him from rushing the man with the gun.

  Jen drew her own weapon and trained it on Roach. Told him to drop it and come with her. Roach cast a quick glance at her, but kept the gun pointed at the woman who’d unmasked his daughter’s guilt.

  Nadine remained slouched against the piano, unperturbed. “Put it away, Karl. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

  “I am going nowhere.” To his daughter, Roach added, “You can leave, if you want.”

  Soapy tears covered Kelly’s cheeks. She tried to speak but could only shake her head and sob.

  “Karl,” Nadine said softly. “You can’t do this to her. You only just met each other. Think about the hurt you’ll cause if you take this any further.”

  “I have no choice,” he said.

  Jen steadied her pistol. Any sudden move and she’d have to fire. At this range she’d hit Karl, but who knows what damage could happen with two guns firing in a room with so many people?

  Through the door of the back office they could hear Nero barking.

  “Your choice is simple,” Nadine said. “Shoot me and never see her again. Or drop the gun and say your goodbyes, knowing you’ll be able to write to your daughter, and that she’ll be able to write to you. To her father. That’s quite a gift, Karl. Isn’t it?”

  Her words seemed to have escaped Roach’s comprehension. The man scowled. His gun arm didn’t waver. Kelly’s hands moved up to cover her mouth.

  “Put that stupid thing down, Karl.” Ingrid’s voice was a sharp command. “You want your daughter to think of you like this? For God’s sake, let’s all stop being foolish.”

  Roach looked over at her, his gaze passing over Kelly as he did. His features softened. He dropped the gun into Nadine’s cupped hands.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” Tim Miller said, leading his grandmother out of the Traveler’s Lodge. “That lady was a friend of yours?”

  “I thought she was,” Ingrid said. “I saw her almost every morning.”

  In the parking lot they spotted Gary Gordon sitting on the running board of his tow truck, smoking. He’d run out of the parlor the moment Jen had cuffed Roach and Kelly.

  “How are you doing, Gary?” Ingrid asked.

  The young man shrugged and blew smoke up towards the sky. “I don’t know how to feel about any of it,” he said. “Or what I’m supposed to do.”

  “How about visit with your nephews?” Ingrid smiled and held out her hand. “Since it’s clearing up, we’re going to walk home. Why don’t you walk with us?”

  “I’ve got the truck here,” Gary said. “I could give you a ride?”

  Tim opened the passenger’s door and admired the cab’s interior. “I’ve never ridden in one of these. Is it okay?”

  They both looked to Ingrid for permission. The woman smiled.

  “I didn’t expect you to get it wrapped up,” Teddy Fowler said. “Congratulations, Nadine. Hell of a job. Tell the chief the same for me, will you?”

  The deputy commissioner’s voice was congratulatory, but it was clear to Nadine he was already moving on to other matters.

  “We also a received confession to one of the Cover Model Killings,” Nadine said.

  “I’ll be damned. The two cases were connected?”

  “Father and daughter.”

  “Amazing.” Teddy waited a nominal few seconds before saying, “So you’ll be heading back to Seattle early? That’s good. We’re ready to proceed with the warrants in the DeSalvo case.”

  Nadine knew what Teddy was getting at, knew what was expected of her.

  “Sir,” she said, “if my brother Frank is involved, I’ll be happy to do my part to see him answer any charges and evidence.”

  “That’s good,” Teddy said. “Knew we could count on you. Any details coming back about that car crash?”

  “A few,” Nadine said.

  “Wonderful. And?”

  “It wasn’t him, Teddy. Frank wasn’t the one at the wheel.”

  For a moment she thought he’d hung up. Then she heard the deputy commissioner sniff.

  “That’s too bad, Nadine. I thought we were on the same page.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, sir.”

  “I guess with two homicides solved in the same week, I can hardly be mad at you, can I?”

  She covered the phone and let out a sigh.

  “Come home, Nadine,” Teddy said, “and let’s get back to work.”

  After hanging up, she dialed her mother’s number. Martha Kelso picked up, helloed, and said that she and Frank had had a wonderful time last night, and would Nadine thank Jimmy for them, the next time Nadine talked to her ex?

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Frank took me to Jimmy’s restaurant. The food there was excellent as usual. It was such a nice time.”

  “Would you put my brother on?” Nadine asked.

  A moment later she heard Frank say, “How’s it going, sis?”

  “I’m coming home,” Nadine said.

  “Great news, Nay. We still have some leftovers. That hubby of yours—ex-hubby, sorry—what a cook. Compliments to the chef, y’know?”

  “Frank.” She put the entirety of her anger into the word. “The only reason you’re not in jail right now is I didn’t tell anyone about the accident.”

  “That’s the only reason, huh?”

  “You’ve got a couple hours until I get there. Take Mom out for a last coffee, or whatever you think. Don’t go near my ex-husband.”

  “Is that a warning, Nay?”

  “This is: if you’re there when I get back, Frank, I’m taking you in.”

  She could hear him breathing, no doubt casting about for a suitable cutting remark. He seemed thrown by the nakedness of the threat. When he did finally respond it was in a softer, more vulnerable voice, but still with a mocking edge to it.

  “I love you too, big sis,” Frank said.

  Jen was waiting for her in the parking lot, next to her Pilot. Kelly Wells had already been taken to the holding cells. Karl Roach sat in the passenger’s seat, still handcuffed.

  “You could’ve let me in on your plan,” Jen said. “I would’ve suggested searching everyone for weapons before they were allowed inside.”

  “No one can think of everything.”

  Jen laughed. She looked through the windshield at Roach. The man seemed calm. Content.

  “To think he got away with it for so long,” Jen said.

  “He had an unwitting accomplice.”

  “You mean Peter. I can only imagine how he feels.”

  “Guilt and vindication don’t often go together,” Nadine said.

  “True. Speaking of accomplices.” Jen whistled. “Kelly had a favor to ask you.”

  Nadine heard scratching on glass. Peter Quayle opened the door of the Lodge and Nero loped over to her, his front paws slapping melted snow and road salt on her jacket.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  “Kelly said it was the dog’s decision. And also that you and her father might need some company for the I-5.”

  Nadine made a bed of her jacket in the Pilot’s back seat, but the dog promptly clambered over to sit between her and Roach.

  The chief waved to them as Nadine pulled out of the parking lot.

&nbs
p; “Ready to sit on the highway for five hours?” she asked Roach.

  The killer patted the dog’s head.

  Castle Rock receded. Ahead and above them the sky was marbled blue and white and pale gray. Skies like that could mean anything. A change coming, or a brief reprieve before even stormier weather.

  Nadine cracked her window and made the turn onto the highway, prepared for whatever came next. The gathering dark was over.

  The year, though, was just beginning.

  Author’s Note

  Castle Rock is a real town in Washington State. I’ve tried to be faithful to its geography and layout, but I’ve taken liberties with the streets and businesses where fictionally necessary.

  The characters are entirely fictional, and not representative of any real people, living or dead.

  The Cover Model Killer was inspired by an anecdote in Wayne Cope’s superb memoir Vancouver Blue.

  Reviews are crucial to a book’s success and an author’s career. Please consider leaving an honest review—one or two brief lines and a rating would be greatly appreciated.

  For more Nadine Kelso, including an exclusive short story, check out www.movingtargetpress.com.

  Thank you for reading this.

  About the Author

  Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, A.S. Andrews teaches college English, including a class on mystery fiction. The Long Dark January is his first Nadine Kelso novel, to be followed by A Mourning in February and Sing the Death March.

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