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Authors: Mary Logue

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Then there was Amy.

Just when she was thinking how far along Amy was coming, she’d gone and done something so stupid as to sleep with a suspect. Claire could already hear the sheriff reaming them both out. One of the hazards of working in a small county. Everyone knew everyone and even occasionally slept with them.

As Claire turned down Hegstrom Lane, she gave herself a pep talk. Do your job, do it well. One step in front of another. The one thing she was sure of was she wanted to find who had killed Daniel Walker. She wanted Sherri to have some kind of closure—more than she had had.

When she knocked on the door, a female voice said, “Come on in. It’s open. I have my hands full.”

Claire pushed through the door and stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. Bonnie Hegstrom was sitting in rocking chair in the corner of the room with her baby in her arms, her tawny hair streaming down her shoulders. Claire quietly walked forward. When she got close she could see that the baby was sleeping. His eyelids were like pale pink shells with threads of purple, quivering. His full lips were slitted open, a bit of baby spit on his chin. He looked so peaceful. A calmness emanated from them both.

“Finally he’s sleeping,” Bonnie whispered. “He was up all night.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Mom says it serves me right. I guess I didn’t sleep through the night until I was two. Or so she’s claiming.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Mom’s downstairs doing wash. We’re really going through the diapers. And Dad’s sleeping. But you don’t need to talk to them. We all discussed the situation and we’re in agreement. We don’t want to press charges against Mr. Walker.”

“What about child support?” Claire blurted.

“We’d like to handle that privately.”

Claire was so impressed with how adult Bonnie had become, not that she had known the girl much before. But from how Meg had described her, Bonnie had sounded like a quiet girl. Maybe having the baby would give her some self-assurance.

As if reading her thoughts, Bonnie said, “I never would have thought having a baby would have been a good thing, especially
right now. But I’m actually glad. I wake up and he’s there staring at me, and I feel happy. I want to take care of him. I want to finish school and go to college and get a good job so I can take care of him. I’ve never felt like this before.”

Funny what love can do to a person, Claire thought. “That’s great.”

“Anyways, that’s what we decided about Mr. Walker.”

“Well, I might need to talk to your dad.”

“I hate to wake him. He had a pretty rough night.”

“How so?”

“Well, he got up with the baby after midnight and didn’t get back to sleep for an hour or two. We’re kinda taking it in shifts. I’m not sure how long my parents’ll last, but I feel like I’m getting my strength back already.”

Relief flooded Claire. This was the best kind of absolute alibi, being unasked for made it that much stronger. “So your dad was here all evening?”

“Oh, yeah. Too cold to go out for anything. We just sat in front of the fire and watched Eric.” Bonnie rubbed her baby’s forehead with one finger. “I can’t believe how I never get tired of him.”

“There will be times.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But right now, he’s perfect.”

“Hey, Claire. Cold enough for you?” Sara came into the kitchen with a basket of diapers on her hip and set it down at Bonnie’s feet. “Might as well fold them now, Bonnie. Nice to work with them while they’re warm. Slip the baby down into you lap and you should be able to manage them. I know it’s asking too much of you to put him down for a second.”

“Mom, you know he wakes up if I put him down.”

“He’s got to get used to it. Especially if you’re planning on going back to school soon.”

“But he’s so little.”

Sara beamed down at her grandson. “Wouldn’t know it from the caterwauling he did last night.” Then she asked Bonnie, “Did you tell her our decision?”

“I did.”

Claire cleared her throat. “Well, I have some news for you two. I just came from the Walker’s. Daniel Walker was killed last night.” She hesitated about saying how it had been done.

“What happened?” Sara asked.

Bonnie’s eyes filled with tears. “Killed? But he didn’t even get to see Eric. His son.”

“I can’t say much more. We’re still looking into it, but I wanted to come over and tell you myself.”

Sara straightened her shoulders and stated, “Clyde was here all night long. None of us left the house.”

“I know. Bonnie made that clear.”

“I’m so sorry for his wife.” Sara bowed her head. “That poor woman. Was she there? Is she all right?”

“She’s not hurt, but she’s devastated, as you can imagine. Losing your husband twice in a couple days would do anyone in.”

CHAPTER 20

5 January: 11:30 am

S
omething bad happened last night,” Meg told Curt as they sat next to each other in the lunchroom.

He handed her one of his peanut butter cookies and she gave him half of her apple. “What? How do you know?”

“Mom tore out of the house in the middle of the night. I woke up but was too tired to look at my alarm clock, but it was pitch black out. I don’t think Rich even woke up. He didn’t know anything about it when I got up this morning. But I heard her go. When I left for school this morning, she still wasn’t back. So I assume it had to be pretty bad.”

“What’s that like? Knowing your mom is going to some weird, gory scene?”

Meg thought for a second. “I worry sometimes. Not so much down here, but when we lived in town, that was scarier. She really doesn’t talk about her work much. In fact, when it’s the worst is when she gets really quiet. She just goes away.”

“My mom gets like that. Dad says it’s her time of life. But I like the quiet better than the bitch-o-rama.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Meg looked around the lunch room. “Where’s your bud, Danger Man?”

“Don’t know. He didn’t show up today. He’s been threatening to take his own private snow day.”

“I like that. I can’t believe I actually like an Andy idea.” Meg regretted what she said as soon as the words left her mouth. Since Curt had accused her of being jealous, she was working really hard on not being so negative about Andy.

“Well if I know Andy, a snow day has little to do with snow. He’s probably been playing GTA for a million hours.” Curt rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know how he can keep at it for as long as he does. Or, who knows, maybe he’s hanging with that Danielle.”

Meg had been shocked when she heard that Andy had been seeing Danielle Walker. She remembered seeing her once this fall at an event at the Lake Pepin Art Center, when they had brought in a film and the director. Danielle had been there, wearing boots that came up above her knees. And they had looked good on her. Not only was Danielle a few years older than Andy, but she seemed really snooty, like she would have thought she was way too cool for a kid like Andy. “I don’t know which is worse.”

“I think you might be right about one thing.”

“Only one thing?” Meg teased him.

“I’m starting to think too much of those video games can really warpify your mind. I’m even playing the games in my dreams. It’s like I can’t get away from them.” He grabbed hold of his head and shook it. “He does like to ice fish. Maybe he’s out there staring into that freezing water.”

Meg was so relieved to hear Curt talking about what was going on with Andy and how so much video-gaming was affecting
him. Maybe she would get the old Curt back again. “I suppose you could take a break from the gaming.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just hard. I want to play. It’s like a compulsion.” He pretended like he was armed with a game, air-playing. “Plus, it’s winter and there isn’t a lot else to do.”

“Why don’t you come over later?” She didn’t want to push him too hard, just make a suggestion. “We could play chess.”

“You mean like on a board?” He bumped her with his shoulder.

“Yeah, do you remember how to move little figures around with your hands in real reality?”

He burst out laughing. “Real reality. Good one, Megsly. I guess I could try to remember how to play chess, for you.”

“Well, remember this—I beat you last time.” She poked him in the ribs.

Curt stuck his chest out and thumped it. “I am King of the chessboard.”

“But in chess the King has little power. It’s much better to be Queen.”

3 pm

When Danielle opened the door, Amy was struck by the fact that they were about the same age. For some reason she hadn’t really remarked on that before. Maybe it was because everything else about them was so different.

Not only that, but seeing Danielle in her home environment, Amy saw how truly gorgeous she was. In the hospital, she had looked wilted, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was
wearing her hair down and it hung below her shoulders in a heavy honey-brown hue. She had enough make-up on to enhance all her already-perfect features, but not so much that it drew attention to itself. She was wearing a soft blue cashmere sweater—at least it looked like what Amy thought cashmere would look like—over a pair of wool pants.

All this made Amy feel more geeky than usual. The department uniform was not exactly the most stylish. The regulation pants had never fit her well. She had hips where it had none, which made the pockets flare out in a really dorky way.

“Danielle? I’m Amy—from the Pepin County Sheriff’s department.” Amy was nervous about giving Danielle the news and she could hear her voice was shaking.

Danielle tilted her head to the side and crinkled her nose. “I know you. You were at the hospital.” Then her voice rose as she asked, “Why are you here?”

“Yes, well, it’s about your dad.” Amy remembered Claire’s advice about giving relatives the bad news. Do it quick. Don’t make them wait. She launched in to her practiced line. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that your father is dead.” Amy stopped there. Let that news sink in before she went on with more specific details.

Danielle backed up into her apartment. “Dead?” Her voice wavered and she sounded younger. “But I thought he was doing okay. The doctor said he could go home. Sherri was going to take care of him. What happened?”

“He was shot. When he opened the front door.”

“How could he be shot? What front door? At home?” Danielle sat down in a chair in the entryway and folded in on herself, her
head in her hands. After a moment, she righted herself, flung her hair back, and asked, “Goddamn it. Do you know who did it?”

Amy could see that Danielle was fighting tears. “We’re not sure yet. Working on it.”

“When did it happen? Was it Sherri?” Danielle stood up. “I don’t trust her at all. She’s been taking my dad for a ride this whole time.”

“We’re just not sure.”

Danielle motioned Amy into the apartment. Amy pointed down at her boots and Danielle said, “Don’t worry. The cleaning lady is coming tomorrow.”

A large black leather couch was covered with old antique-looking throw pillows. The view from her fourth floor apartment was of downtown Minneapolis. The place, like Danielle herself, looked expensive and perfect. Comparing it to Amy’s own apartment was like comparing her outfit to Danielle’s: ordinary and practical to extraordinary and excessive. Amy wondered what her place would look like if she had a lot of money.

Wiping at her eyes, Danielle asked, “You came all the way up here to tell me this?”

“Yes, well, we knew how hard this would be on you. It’s not news we like to deliver over the phone.”

Danielle looked around as if there was something she should do. “Can I get you something?”

“I’d love a cup of coffee.”

Danielle turned toward the kitchen, which was galley style with a pass-through to the living room. “I hardly ever make coffee here. There’s a Starbucks just down the block. But I think I might have some.”

Amy didn’t think she wanted to watch this process, plus wasn’t convinced the end product would be any good. “A Coke would be fine. Anything with caffeine.”

“I have a Red Bull.”

“I’ll try it.”

“Don’t you have those in Durand?” Danielle pulled a can out of the refrigerator and handed it to her.

“I’m sure we do.” Amy followed her into the living room where Danielle arranged herself on the couch. Amy sat in a modern looking swivel chair that was as uncomfortable as it looked. She was afraid if she leaned back in it, the whole thing would tip over.

“So what happened?” Danielle asked.

Amy told her as much as they knew. As she did tears ran down Danielle’s face, smearing her eye make-up.

Danielle reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a wadded Kleenex, loudly blowing her nose on it. For some reason, this homely action made Amy like her better. “What did you mean you thought this would happen?”

“Well, geez, someone already tried to kill him once. I’ve thought all along that it was Sherri. I know that everyone thinks I’m a bitch to her and she’s this great nice woman who puts up with my father, but that isn’t exactly the way it is. She stole my dad away from my mom. You can’t believe the things she did.”

“Like what?”

“She called our house and told my mom that my dad was with her. Otherwise, I’m not sure my mom would have ever figured it out. I had a suspicion. I knew that he was taking more business trips than usual. Mom tried to ignore those kind of
clues. She just didn’t want to know. So there was a big scene about the other woman. But by this time it was really my mom that was the other woman. Sherri was in charge. My dad did anything she wanted. She really knew how to work him.

“As soon as they got married, she started milking him. A new car, new clothes, new house. I know my dad isn’t always easy to live with, but Sherri pushed him pretty hard too. Then when he finally got tired of her, he’s like the bad guy for wanting something more.”

“So you think she might have killed him to get his money? But I thought that you said he had changed his will?”

“Yeah, he told me he did. But who knows. Plus, she’s still married to him. It would be awful easy for her to contest the will and if I know Sherri that’s exactly what she’ll do.”

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