Before I Wake (24 page)

“Any ideas who?”

“No, and I’ve been trying to guess. You have to understand something, Nathan. Nella liked attention. Without suggesting she was unable to commit to a relationship, I know for a fact she was the kind to see more than one guy at a time and not think it was that big a deal. She’d see someone she got to know from work, someone from back in her school days, someone who was a friend of a friend—that kind of socializing. Dinner out, a movie, conversation—not everything was a relationship with a capital
R
for Nella.”

“When did you last talk with her?”

“Last Wednesday? It’s been a hectic week with my nephew visiting. I didn’t think anything about it when I didn’t hear from her the last few days. She works her own schedule and she’s been talking about taking some vacation time.” She looked across to where customers were taking seats. “I need to get a couple orders. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

“This has been a help,” Nathan reassured.

* * *

“I hate prying through Nella’s life like this,” Nathan remarked to Rae, leaning back against his car and reviewing the evening notes.

“It’s the only way to retrace her steps. Do you want to go back out to the scene?” Rae asked.

“Sillman will call if something unusual shows up. I’ve got strikebreakers set to arrive at the tile plant at six tomorrow morning, and I need to shift gears here soon and make sure that’s in hand.”

“You’re worried about trouble tomorrow morning with the strike.”

He nodded. “There’s only so much pressure a man can take before he snaps and does something totally out of character. I’ve got a whole group of guys now under that kind of pressure. I just want to get through tomorrow without incident and get a weekend here where maybe cooler heads can prevail and this strike can get settled.”

“Are you planning to bring in state help?”

“I’m trying not to reach that step. It would add even more tension on the picket lines to have strangers in uniform separating them from their job site. And I don’t want to drop the ball on murder investigations by having all the resources tied up with the strike—but I don’t know right now that I even have foul play happening.

“I’ve got a coroner whom I deeply respect, a man who has a solid reputation in his field, telling me Peggy and Karen are natural-caused deaths. Nella—she doesn’t fit any common profile with them for age or location. I’m not even sure what I’d ask the state guys to do.”

“Bruce and I want to help however we can do so without getting in your way.”

Nathan smiled. “It’s a small town, Rae. Your focus on Peggy has helped, and Bruce working every hint of a lead on those stolen guns—it’s been appreciated. I know how far this strike has pushed my own guys. I’m smart enough to take qualified help when it’s available.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I still owe you a carry permit; sorry I forgot about that. The paperwork should be finished by now. Remind me to check for you.”

“I’ll stop by and talk with your assistant in the morning.”

“Please do.”

“Why don’t you drop me off at the agency and I’ll track down Bruce. I’ll do some more work on the story Peggy came to town to research.”

Nathan unlocked the car. “I’ll drop you at the agency, but you should think about calling it a night. Given the last few days, I don’t want to speculate on what this weekend is going to be like.”

“You take events like this a day at a time and follow where the facts take you,” Rae replied, sliding into the car and reaching for her seat belt. “It will get better, Nathan. Everything has an answer. Some are just tougher puzzles than others to solve.”

“Isn’t that just the truth? This week seems unsolvable right now.”

24

The tile plant was surrounded by a layer of ground fog, the temperature having melted enough snow to create an eerie dawn. Nathan stopped beside Chet as the patrol officer ended a radio call. “The bus will be here in ten minutes.”

“Who’s escorting it?”

“Martin, with Will and Lewis trailing the bus and keeping other cars a safe distance back.”

Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t like this at all.” The picket line was empty; there wasn’t a union guy in sight.

“The mayor stopped by last night. Maybe she had some influence.”

“My mom can move mountains, but even she doesn’t have this kind of influence. Last night they were talking about news media and banks of cameras and having their kids on the picket line to shame the strikebreakers crossing the line—something’s happened in the last couple hours to change that thinking. Something that can’t be good news. What time did the last picketer leave?”

“They broke the line at ten last night. They normally reform the line at 7 a.m. They know the bus is rolling in before that time today; we’ve been expecting to see the guys as early as 4 a.m. They normally park at the tire-repair shop and walk down.”

“Do me a favor. Get a couple of your guys on the plant roof with binoculars and tell me this area is quiet.”

“They won’t burn down the place they work, Nathan. Or shoot it up. The union may have decided to simply keep this a normal day—arrive at seven, make their protests as the strikebreakers leave at the end of day, and try to let the media move public opinion their way going into the weekend.”

“Maybe. Still, get your guys up there and give me a sweep before that bus arrives. The union’s top officers, Adam and Larry, aren’t returning my calls this morning, and that’s not like either one of them.”

Chet nodded and picked up his radio. He assigned two officers to make the check. “Ever since the plant manager’s home got hit with that Molotov cocktail, Adam and Larry have been proactive with us. They aren’t going to let violence flare up without warning you of trouble. I think we’re going to get a break this morning.”

Nathan hoped that optimism was right.

He heard an approaching car and turned. His grandfather pulled in behind his squad car. Nathan watched the union’s top two officers get out of the car, along with his grandfather.

Nathan walked back to meet them. “Adam. Larry.” Nathan shook hands with the men, looking at them, then at his grandfather. “The three of you together starts to explain some of this unexpected morning.”

“The union is having a breakfast meeting at the union hall for all members and their families. You’re invited to stop by when you are done here,” Adam explained.

“I’ll be there. Why?”

“Nella. You don’t make a public disturbance on the day you mourn a friend’s passing,” his grandfather replied. “Her dad formed the union, you know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Zachary and I decided last night that things were just too volatile on both sides,” Adam explained. “We were looking for an excuse to avoid this morning’s confrontation and we’ll take what is provided. We both want a deal. It’s in both our interests to keep the situation such that it’s possible to get a deal. If this becomes media driven, everyone loses.”

Adam pushed his hands into his pockets and looked at the plant. “Besides, I let the guys on the line this morning; I’m looking at not just eggs and tomatoes and toilet paper going airborne, but also rocks and bottles. We’ve already got longtime friends barely speaking with each other if they are on opposite sides in this dispute. I don’t need more of that grief coming down on my watch. And arresting neighbors doesn’t do your officers’ morale any good.”

They all heard the bus approaching. Nathan watched it arrive, escorted by a squad car and trailed by two others. Security guards at the plant swung open the massive gate, and the bus rolled through.

“How many strikebreakers did they send?” Larry asked.

“Twenty-seven. Two scheduled to come decided to honor the picket line and not cross. They stayed put at the hotel.”

“The plant won’t make tile today. They’ll be lucky to get the mixers cleaned with a crew that size,” Larry noted, satisfaction in his voice at that reality.

“They’ll ship finished product we had in the warehouse and pipeline and not much more,” Adam agreed.

“Do I need to worry about the plant trucks, Adam?” Nathan asked. “We’ve already had graffiti and slashed tires. Someone shooting out their tires as they leave the plant hauling tile wouldn’t sit well right now.”

“I’m not pretending to have my guys cooled off, Nathan. Today is a kick in the gut seeing strikebreakers take their jobs. At best I just bought everyone through the weekend to try and get this strike resolved.”

“Okay. I do sincerely appreciate these hours of quiet.”

“How are things going with Nella? Is it true she just died in her sleep?” his grandfather asked.

Nathan nodded. “It looks that way at the moment. Sillman’s working the scene for me. I’ll be heading out there after I stop by the union hall.”

* * *

A squad car blocked the road in front of Nella’s. Nathan parked as far over to the drainage ditch as the snow would allow and walked the rest of the way up to the house. The driveway had become packed snow to the point it was near sheets of ice. He found his deputy sitting at a card table set up in the garage, squeezed into the space beside her car. “Tell me there is something useful here, Gray.”

“Besides the smell?” Sillman offered a grim smile. He waved at the table covered with notes. “I’d rather freeze than not be able to eat again for a few weeks, hence this office. Inside it is still pretty intense.”

He moved aside the sketch of the rooms and the notations where evidence had been gathered from and picked up one of the notepads. “There’s not much, but I have a few things worth knowing.

“I’ve got a bathroom toilet seat which is in the raised position. I’ve got cigarette butts in a dish beside the microwave. I’ve got two wineglasses in the sink.

“The messages on Nella’s answering machine—the first one she had not listened to is from Saturday morning at ten-eighteen. I checked the recorder time, and it’s set accurately. Her Saturday mail was still in the box waiting to come in.

“There is no suggestion of robbery that I can find—her purse is still here, loose cash is in the glass canning jar on the kitchen back counter, there are a few nice pieces of jewelry on her bedroom dresser. Her home office looks undisturbed.

“We’ve got lots of prints. The wineglasses gave solid prints and those are probably the most interesting. The lab is trying to match them now. The cigarette butts are promising for DNA. The brand isn’t going to give us much; they are sold in every store around here.

“The coroner hasn’t provided an estimate on the time of death yet, but based on everything I have here, I agree with you that time of death is sometime Friday night, early Saturday morning.

“The coroner arrived with just about everyone on his staff, so we should have information back from him in short order. He was not pleased to hear there was a third death.”

“I can imagine,” Nathan replied, knowing how Franklin would have taken this news.

Sillman set aside the notebook. “Did you have any luck on the people side of this?”

“A bit,” Nathan replied. “Walter Sr. was here Friday night for dinner; he says he left about 8 p.m. He doesn’t drink, not even wine, and he most certainly doesn’t smoke. And he probably would have mentioned smelling cigarette smoke—so assume the smoker was here sometime after that. Stella didn’t have much on who else might have been in Nella’s life, but she thought there might be another guy.”

“Whoever it was, he doesn’t seem to have covered his tracks to hide the fact he was here. The cigarettes and the wineglasses left in the kitchen were in the open. We should end up with both prints and DNA for Nella’s guest. Based on this—it says someone came by the house after Walter Sr. left, stayed for a bit, he left, she went to bed, and she died in her sleep.”

“Or he stayed, she died in her sleep, and he didn’t want to be answering awkward questions by calling the cops to say I woke up beside a dead lady,” Nathan modified, appreciating Gray’s attempt to cast the most favorable light on the facts but accepting reality. Nella had been seeing someone else besides Walter Sr., and they had to identify that person quickly to either eliminate or confirm him as a suspect.

“This could still be a pure old-fashion murder like you said—pillow over the face or hands around the neck—they couldn’t answer that question based on the initial look at the body. I’ll keep on the coroner to get that answered.”

Nathan almost wished for something that obvious. “Two weeks ago, that would have been our assumption going into this scene. What’s your gut opinion?”

“Three dead in a week—saying all three are natural causes starts to strain credulity. But Nella doesn’t seem to fit any pattern. If the time of death guess is right, she would have been the first of the three to die. Who would want to kill her? She’s a gossip but harmless. Nothing here says a stranger showed up on her doorstep to murder her. Nothing says it was something self-inflicted as a suicide. My gut says this is not a murder, neither are Peggy and Karen. This town is just having some very bad luck.

“Face it, Nathan—you put these deaths a mile outside our jurisdiction and there’s no reason they would ever be linked. Three ladies died of natural causes. They just happened to die in the same week and in the same geographic area. It happens.”

“We’re chasing hypotheticals and assumptions,” Nathan agreed, “trying to fit something to connect the events because of when and where they happened, when there is absolutely nothing concrete yet saying they are actually related. But three natural-cause deaths in this period of time—it’s getting very hard to swallow. Can you finish out this scene with the help you have? I know I’ve left you shorthanded for this one with so many helping out with the strikebreakers.”

“I’ll manage. It’s just going a bit slower than normal to call the scene done. The coroner wants environmental samples from everything from the filter on the furnace to the food in the refrigerator, so I’ll be watching his guys work for a while. End of day, we should be wrapping up here. How is it going over at the tile plant?”

“Quiet. The union decided to let the strikebreakers arrive without a picket line to meet them. I don’t know how long it lasts, but I’ll take every hour of quiet I can get.”