Silver's Bones (28 page)

 

Chapter 34

W
e paid our check and left before the Gages or Holmgrens. Shannon drove so I could make arrangements.

First, I called Troy.

“Hey, Sheehan, guess who's just been brought into custody?”

“Not Victoria?”

“Yeah, I have to give Spanky credit. Ha! She was like a wildcat when they were processing her in. Anyway, before her rights were even read, she was demanding to speak to her attorney.”

“The very best money can buy, no doubt. Does Oliver Bakken know?” Oliver was the county attorney.

“Yeah, he's here with us.”

“He has to make sure the judge won't grant her bail.”

“He knows. So, why did you call?”

I told him what I'd learned.

“No shit. Well, it's going to be an all-nighter,” he said.

“Can you arrange to have the Gage boys brought in? I'll pick up Lucky.”

“Okay. So, tell me how Lucky's involved.”

“I'm not sure, but he is.”

When we got home, Shannon said, “So much for our two days of alone time.”

I transferred vehicles, kissed her good-bye and said, “At least we had time to have great make-up sex in the shower.”

“And now I can get some much needed alone time.”

Huh.

 

 

I parked the squad car
on the street in front of Lucky's house and while I waited for him to arrive, I called Crosby Green and asked him to come in. It was a good twenty minutes before I saw Lucky's Lexus coming down the street. I exited my vehicle and met him as he parked in his driveway. He rolled down the window and left the engine running.

He smiled widely. “Hey, I got a call Victoria was in custody.”

I wasn't going to play games with him. “Lucky, turn off the ignition. I'm going to need you to come with me.”

Cathy, who had exited the vehicle, placed a hand on her mounded baby belly. She looked disgusted. “Can't this wait until morning?”

I shook my head. “No. Sorry.”

”What about the sitter?” she asked.

Lucky said, “Can I take the sitter home, then meet you? I'm assuming it's about the arson case.”

I leaned in the car window and whispered, “I'm not going to cuff you in front of your wife if you promise to be cool.” I stood and said so Cathy could hear, “Tell you what. I'll drive and we'll drop the sitter off on the way. How's that, Cathy?”

“Fine. I just can't leave the kids alone.”

“Understood.”

Cathy pointed a finger at her husband and said, “Just remember you're turning in your resignation to the city council this week.”

Lucky nodded. He looked ill.

I had the sitter take the front seat, and opened the rear door for Lucky. He hesitated but got in. The sitter was a talker. Her name was Kylene . . . even spelled it out for me. She was intrigued with the computer equipment and as I answered her questions, I glanced at Lucky trapped in the back with no door handles and the Plexiglas protection between us. He was looking out the window, not paying attention to the chatter in the front seat.

Kylene lived in a tri-level on the east side of the river. I had her copy down her number for me in case we needed a sitter.

After she hopped out, Lucky said, “Can I ride in front now?”

“Nope.”

A few seconds passed before he said, “It's not about the arson case, is it?”

“No, Lucky, it's not.”

“Well, I don't know what's going on here, but I—”

“Why don't we wait to talk about it until we get to the department.”

We didn't speak on the rest of the drive or as I escorted him inside. Parker was placed in a holding cell and the other two were put in separate interrogation rooms. We let them cook while we waited for Patrice to arrive because she wanted to be present. It was a great opportunity to observe their behavior because they didn't know what the hell was going on. Each would be sweating it out, worrying about who was saying what.

From the observation window, we could see both rooms. Sawyer was in constant motion, up and down, pacing. Lucky sat still, elbows on the table, hands supporting his chin. He eventually lowered his arms, crossed them and laid his head down, his face turned away from the camera and the window.

When Patrice arrived, we ran our plan by her: Troy would interview Sawyer first. I would handle Lucky after. We'd leave Parker for last.

When Troy entered the room, Sawyer was still up and pacing like an animal in a zoo. Armpit sweat stains were visible on his blue shirt, but we kept the rooms a little on the warm side on purpose. Troy invited him to sit.

“Will you please explain to me why I am here
yet again
?”

“We're detaining you because we have new information. Sawyer Gage, you are under arrest for the murder of Silver Rae Dawson. You have the right to remain silent . . .”

Sawyer raised his face to the ceiling while shaking his head. “Oh, fuck me.”

After Troy finished reading Gage his rights and giving the preliminary data for the recording, he said, “Mr. Gage, Deputy Sheehan overheard an enlightening conversation tonight in the restroom at Minnesota Fare.”

Sawyer laughed. “Oh, yeah? Is
that
the new information you have?”

“When Lucky Holmgren asked you what you talked to Deputy Sheehan about you said not to worry because you didn't tell him squat, or should I say,
Deputy Dog
squat?”

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Aw, Jesus, that was nothing.”

“Those words indicated you're hiding information. So what is it you didn't tell my partner in your previous interviews?” Troy asked.

Sawyer sat with his mouth shut and his foot tapping a million miles an hour. Troy waited a few seconds before he said, “You should know that if you cooperate things will go so much better for you.”

Gage stared at him and said, “I want to talk to my attorney.”

I figured. The interview was over. Troy returned to the observation room.

“Well, that went well,” Patrice said, clearly displeased. She gave out a long sigh to be sure we knew.

“They must have a pact,” Troy said.

“Cal, try Lucky. Tell him you already got Sawyer's story—which you did,” Patrice said.

“He's gonna say the same thing,” Troy said.

When I opened the door, Lucky raised his head. I sat down across from him and told him he was being detained for the murder of Sylver Rae Dawson, then read him his rights. I stated all the necessary information for the recording.

I then said, “We just talked to Sawyer Gage. Want to tell your side?”

“Screw it. I'm not going down for that SOB.”

“Just to be clear, who's the SOB?” I asked.

“Parker.”

“Parker Gage killed Silver Rae?”

“Nobody
killed
her. It was a drug reaction.”

“What drug?”

“Ativan. It's Lorazepam—used to treat anxiety disorders.”

“Hold on. Start from the beginning. Who gave her the Ativan?”

“Sawyer, on the day she disappeared.”

“Where?”

“He drove out to Round Lake that afternoon.”

“He brought drugs out to Round Lake?”

“We had set up an exchange.”

“An exchange?”

“Pot for drugs. He stayed only a short while.”

“Let me get this straight. You gave him drugs from your father's pharmacy in exchange for pot?”

“Yes.”

“And the Ativan was one of the drugs in this exchange?”

“Yes, it was one he always asked for.”

“So you and Sawyer had a little business agreement?”

“Yes.”

“Why did Sawyer give Silver Rae the Ativan?”

“She said she needed something to calm her nerves.”

“Why?”

“Because she found out Parker had cheated on her.”

“How did she find out?”

“I saw Wendy and him together. I thought Silver had a right to know, so I told her. Parker should've called 911—but he called his brother to bring something out to counter her reaction.”

“Stop. So, when did she take the drugs?”

“While she was babysitting. I guess she waited to confront Parker until that night. She must have been allergic to the Ativan because Parker said her face got itchy. Parker called Sawyer, and Sawyer came over to get me like I had some magic potion to give her. I brought antihistamines out of my parents' medicine cabinet . . . but by the time we got there it was too late. She had gone into anaphylactic shock.”

“Why didn't he just call 911?”

“I know, right?”

“Lucky, cut the crap. You supplied the drugs that killed her.”

He put his head in his hands. “How the hell did I know she'd be allergic?”

“So why cover it up and not call the police when she died?”

“I'd been drinking that night and Sawyer and I smoked pot on the drive out. When we got to the farm, I was expecting hives or something, but she was . . . dead.”

“Did anyone try CPR?”

“Parker said he did before we got there.”

“Then what?”

“Then it was a clusterfuck. Sawyer kept saying if we called the cops they'd find out about us—our drug business—that all our lives would be over and we'd all go to prison. He convinced me.”

“What happened next?”

“Parker, the pussy, takes off saying it was our fault and ours to handle. So we did.”

“How?”

“Sawyer says we should drop her off in the hospital parking lot like she tried to get help and died. But when we got there, I asked him how would she have gotten there . . . and he says I was right and we should put her in the morgue. He worked at the hospital at the time so knew how to get her in there. Then the next day when I sobered up, I was even more scared.”

“How long was she in the morgue?”

“A week.”

“And no one discovered her because there were no other deaths that week?”

“That's right.”

In a small town there can be several weeks without a funeral, then there can be two, three in one week.

I asked, “Did you boys discuss what you were going to do with her body?”

“Just with Sawyer. Neither one of us was coming up with any good ideas, but I knew we had to get her out of there before someone else died. Then when some old guy did pass away, Sawyer called and said I had to come and get her ASAP.”

“When exactly was that?”

“The following Saturday morning. I thought our best bet was to bury her in a place that had already been searched.”

“Parker and Sawyer help you with this?”

“Parker refused to be involved and didn't want to know anything about it.”

“So, you picked up the body that morning?”

“Yeah, but we couldn't bury her in the daylight, so I had her in my trunk until that night when we went out to Lake Emmaline and dug the hole.”

“You and Sawyer Gage?”

“Yeah.”

“So you just dumped your friend's body in a hole?”

“She was wrapped in a hospital sheet.”

“Do you expect me to say, ‘Nice touch'? ”

He gave me a sheepish look. “No, I don't. Look, I just got caught up in the panic. Then after a while when you realize how stupid it was—how do you turn yourself in?”

“You just do. Man, I must admit you had me fooled, Lucky. Nice guy, smiling your way through life.”

“Not on the inside.”

“I expect not. So you and Sawyer were budding drug dealers back then.”

He scoffed. I had a sneaking suspicion they still were, what with his annual trip to Padre and Sawyer's ocean-going boat.

“Did you know he raped Silver?”

Lucky sighed deeply and nodded. “Yeah, I walked in on them.”

“And you didn't stop him or say anything about it to anyone?”

He hung his head, shook his head once, and then looked up at me slowly. “I can only imagine what you must think of me.”

I shrugged. “It doesn't matter what I think. I just follow the law.”

“We'll probably all go to prison, right?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it falls on Parker because he didn't call for help. She was dead when we got there.”

“Ah, you know better than that. You know pharmaceutical law.”

 

 

While I was interviewing Lucky
,
Sawyer had been moved to a holding cell and Parker took his place in the interview room. Troy looked pissed when Patrice directed me to interview him.

I confronted Parker head-on. I told him this was his opportunity to give me his side of the story. He immediately broke down—told me how he and Silver had a fight that evening and how she popped two pills to calm her nerves. She had an allergic reaction and died. He blamed his brother and Lucky for her death because he figured one of them had given her the drug.

“What did you fight about?”

“She thought I cheated on her with Wendy.”

“Did you?”

“Not really. Wendy said she wanted to talk so we met out at Odegard's cabin. I told her I loved Silver and couldn't get back with her. But I did kiss her good-bye and Lucky saw us, so I'm positive he was the one who told Silver. He wanted us to break up so he could have her.”