A Lonely Way to Die: A Utah O'Brien Mystery Novel (Minnesota Mysteries Series Book 2) (22 page)

When they reached the door, Molly put her nose to the crack below the door, and then, satisfied that she’d done her job, she sat down. Sam tried to get her interested in the door knob, but she paid no attention to him. That meant John Owen was a gentleman who opened the door for his intended victim.

Wally opened his car door and walked across the street to talk to Sam. Gabe showered Molly with praise and gave her a good ear rub. The old hound looked rather pleased with herself, in a bloodhound sort of way.

Angie moved to open the back door of the SUV, but Mort stopped her.

“Not yet,” he said. “They don’t need a bunch of yahoos getting in the way.”

A deputy opened the driver’s door of the unmarked and held up a cell phone. Wally nodded, spoke to Sam, shook hands with Gabe, and then headed across the intersection towards our vehicle.

Wally came up to Mort’s open window. “Now we wait,” he said. He turned so he could watch as Sam and Gabe walked away from us down the side street, still pretending to be a couple of guys walking their dog.

“Why?” Angie said from the middle seat. “What are we waiting for?”

“Warrant,” Mort said. “They’ve got a deputy down at Paul Haase’s office, because the lawyer. As soon as the warrant’s printed out, the deputy brings it over and they go in. They can’t do a thing without the paperwork.”

“Wally,” I said, loud enough to be heard from the back seat, “that note in Sonje’s purse was a page taken from a letter she wrote to her mother. The rest of it is probably still at Mildred’s house.”

Wally gave me a mock salute to acknowledge that he heard me. Then he turned back around, his left shoulder twitching nervously, waiting for the deputy.

There weren’t any pedestrians out walking through the snow, but a few cars drove by on Andersen Street and slowed when they saw Wally beside our car. The drivers waved as custom requires, and both Wally and Mort waved back. Then the cars kept moving down the street.

Mort opened the passenger door and stepped out of the car when the deputy drove up in a patrol car and parked behind the unmarked. Wally handed Mort a pair of latex gloves so he could assist in the search, and the old retired lawman grinned like he’d just won the lottery.

From that point on, all activity happened out of sight, inside the church office. Sam and Gabe walked back with Molly and joined us. Sam stayed outside with the bloodhound. Gabe climbed into the front of the vehicle and took Mort’s seat. We waited.

Angie couldn’t sit still. She turned to Josie, who was sitting beside her. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not? What was that deal about you being a grandma? I’m pretty sure Gabe isn’t Utah’s secret love child.”

Gabe giggled in the front seat.

“Well?” Angie said. “Spill it.”

Gavril explained the situation. After answering a few questions about the discovery of the relationship between Gabe and Sam, he said, “Gabriel will stay here with Sam and Utah. I am so relieved. A lady on the plane suggested a boarding school she knew about. I knew Gabriel would hate me if I even brought it up, but my life is so uncertain right now, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“But you’re still going to be one of my dads, aren’t you, Dad?” Gabe said.

Gavril reached across the center console and put his hand on his step-son’s arm. “Of course I am. I promised your mother, remember? Always.”

The final hymns were sung and about sixteen people slowly left the church, shaking John Owen’s hand as they filed out. Most of the parishioners were elderly women. I couldn’t help but wonder how the church stayed open as long as it did.

Pete Hansen came out with Rita, and even from all the way across the intersection he looked happier than I’d seen him in a long time. His night guarding Mildred did him a world of good.

Emma stopped in front of the pastor and let him put out a finger for little Grace to hold. John Owen spoke to Mildred, too, without showing any surprise at all that she was still among the living. Of course, we didn’t see his reaction when she first arrived before the service.

Emma and her mother walked away from the church, down the front walk, and across the intersection to join us. Mildred looked confused, which was natural, because she wasn’t part of the plan—but she was alert and walking straight, with no obvious lasting effects from her close encounter with a killer.

Josie opened the side door. “Angie, you and Utah jump out for a minute so Emma and Mildred can join us. There’s a few things we need to talk about, and we might as well do it while we wait.”

I was happy to comply. I was sitting in the fold-down seat at the back of the SUV, and it wasn’t made for someone with my long legs. Angie and I joined Sam and Molly near the front of the car.

“So, what is Josie cooking up now?” Angie said.

“A family,” I said.

Angie and I both turned to look in the window of the SUV. Gavril was holding Grace awkwardly. Angie said, “He’ll be a good father, once he gets used to the idea.”

I hoped she was right.

We waited at least fifteen more minutes, and it was cold. I snuggled next to Sam, partly to stay a little warmer. Finally, Mort and Wally came out of the church office, holding clear plastic Ziploc bags containing a cell phone, a plastic pill bottle, and a paperback book. They held them up so we could see, and then handed the bags to the deputy and pulled off their latex gloves.

When the sheriff was sure there were no worshipers still in the church he arrested John Owen, pastor of West Elmer’s General Baptist church, on the charge of first degree murder. He went peacefully to the patrol car, and they drove away. The show was over.

TWENTY-FOUR

Mort talked to Sam for a few minutes. Sam nodded and motioned to Gabe to get out of the vehicle and join him. He and Gabe started walking Molly back home.

Mort opened the back door of the SUV and laid out the plan.

“Wally told that mob of reporters outside his office that Gavril is at the museum. He didn’t want them following him out here because they’d get in his way during the search. They’ll be camped out in front of the museum when we get back.”

We all groaned.

“So here’s what we’ll do. We’ll drive around to Josie’s trailer. Emma, you have the baby seat, so you and Mildred can follow us. Most of you will get out there, and walk to the museum through the garden. There’s no point in you having to fight your way through that crowd. Utah, you come with us and talk to the reporters. You’re good at that. Gavril, you want to hold little Grace during the inquisition? Might make the reporters a little more civilized with the baby there.”

“No,” I said. “Leave the baby out of it. Molly should be the star of the show. She’s the hero of the moment. Angie, do you have your smart phone with you?”

“Sure.”

“You know how to get a decent video, don’t you? Holding the camera sideways so it looks good on YouTube? A lot of people don’t—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how to do it right.”

Emma and Mildred got out of the SUV, and Angie, Mort and I got in. The two cars drove the five blocks back to Josie’s trailer. It’s set behind the grain elevators, and can’t be seen from the parking lot in front of the museum.

Josie got out of the SUV at the trailer, just as Emma pulled her car into the driveway. Then Gavril drove the rest of us back to Main Street. He turned right and went half a block to the museum.

The parking lot was full of vehicles with national media logos on the side. There were even a few rigs parked across the street, next to the diner.

“They’re all going to be hungry,” I said to Angie.

“They can wait ‘till they get back to Randall. I’m taking the day off.”

Gavril pulled up to the curb because the parking lot was full. Sam, Gabe and Molly were only half a block behind us, so we stayed in the vehicle until they arrived. The reporters were just figuring out who the silver Explorer belonged to when we piled out.

Sam and Mort took point, pushing the crowd of reporters apart so we could get through the crowd to the front porch of the museum. The mammoth blocked some of the reporter’s camera shots, so there was a lot of jockeying and pushing while reporters called out questions to Gavril.

Angie moved in under the mammoth and stood between the thick concrete legs with her phone’s camera pointed at the crowd.

We stepped up onto the porch, to be slightly higher than the reporters. Gabe stood on one side of Gavril, holding Molly’s leash tightly. The old dog sat down on his feet. I stood on Gavril’s other side. Mort stood in front of the mammoth with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his feet planted wide apart in a no-nonsense attitude. Sam did the same in front of the museum door, behind us.

Angie hissed at Mort to move over. He was blocking her shot. He winked at her, and moved a few feet to the side.

Sabina Greene, the local reporter from Randall, managed to push herself in front of the national crews. The aggressive blonde was wearing a fleece-lined black leather jacket and sexy black calf-high boots with five-inch heels.

Sabina shoved her big black mic in front of the musician’s face. “Gavril Constantin,” she said, “why did it take you two days to get here after you were told your wife was dead?”

“You’re mistaken,” he said. “I met with the sheriff yesterday in Randall, as soon as I could there. We had a blizzard yesterday morning, if you recall, and the Interstate was closed for a few hours. I came here to be with my children yesterday afternoon.”

“We were at the sheriff’s office,” Sabina said. “We didn’t see you come in.”

The musician said, “The sheriff directed me to the back door of the building. He is a very nice man. Under the circumstances, so soon after my wife died, he felt it was best if I could meet with him in private. This has been such a shock for me and my family.”

Sabina’s mic swung in my direction. “Utah O’Brien, you’re the mayor of West Elmer and the owner of the natural history museum here. The sheriff told us you found the body of Sonje Neilina McCrae. Did you recognize her when you found her?”

“No, not right away,” I said. “I should have, of course. I’ve read all of her books.”

“Ms. O’Brien, a number of news reports have come out in the last few months concerning Sonje Neilina McCrae’s marriage to Gavril Constantin and their divorce. Do you think that could have anything to do with the author’s depression?”

Gavril stiffened beside me. I kept my mouth shut.

Sabina moved the mic back in Gavril’s direction, but another reporter called out over Sabina’s head. “How did your children get here?” he said, “and why did your wife come to West Elmer?”

“My children came with their mother, of course. As I’m sure you understand, this has been a very difficult time for my son.” He turned his head so he could smile at Gabe, and put his arm around his shoulder. “Gabriel has been very brave through all of this. I’m very proud of him.”

“You’re Gabriel McCrae, Sonje McCrae’s son,” Sabina said loudly, to be heard over the shouted questions from the pack behind her. “How did you feel when you were told your mother committed suicide?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mort moving, but not towards the reporter. He blocked Sam, who had left his position at the door. After a few words, Mort convinced him to stand down, but Sam’s face was red and his hands were drawn into fists.

I nodded to Gabe, telling him to go ahead and answer the question. He turned to the reporter and said, clearly, with a voice that would carry all the way to the back of the pack, “My mother didn’t kill herself. She was murdered.”

This brought on such an onslaught of noise that no individual reporters could be heard for several minutes. Molly started to get restless, but Gabe held her leash tightly. I looked around to make sure Angie was in a good position with her smart phone. She was. I pointed at Molly, and she nodded.

I touched Gavril’s sleeve. He leaned closer and listened to me for a second, then passed on the message to Gabe. The boy looked at me, and I nodded. He let the long working leash drop, keeping his hand on his end of it, but giving Molly permission to move at will. She looked up at Gabe when she felt the tension released from her harness, but she remained sitting.

Gavril held up his hands, asking for silence from the reporters. After a few more seconds, he was given a chance to speak.

He looked directly at Sabina Greene, and said, in his gravely voice and slight eastern European accent, “You, madam, have no compassion, you have no soul. To say what you did to a young man mourning his mother’s death is unconscionable. You should be ashamed, but clearly, you are not.”

He looked away from the local reporter and up to the reporters crowding around. “Now, all of you must listen to my son with respect. If you cannot listen politely, we will go inside and I will call a reporter who knows how to treat people with dignity. Will you listen? Or will you leave?”

They decided to listen—and Molly decided to move. She couldn’t go far because she was so closely surrounded by the legs of the reporters and cameramen.

Gabe started to talk, and all the mics and cameras swung towards him. “Dad’s right. You’ve been really mean. Some of the things you’ve written and put on the Internet really hurt my mother’s feelings.” He looked at his step-father, who nodded. “Well, anyway—this morning we helped the sheriff arrest the man who killed my mother.” Gasps went up in the crowd. Gabe waited for silence. “It was Utah’s idea. She’s the one who figured it out, because of something my mom said in her last book.”