Silver's Bones (14 page)

“Who else? Name some names.”

“Heather, Erica, Amber.”

“Oh, Heather. I know why they call her the One Date Dolly. You take a look at all those dolls on floor-to-ceiling shelves and it's ‘bye-bye, get me the hell out of there.' She told me she had over three hundred of 'em.”

“Yep.”

“And Erica doesn't count because she left our first date before dinner was even over.”

“Yeah, she wasn't a nice person,” I said.

“True that. And Amber? She wanted to look at engagement rings after our fourth date. She do that to you?”

“After two.”

We laughed.

Troy tapped my arm. “Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have brought up your problems. Look, I get you're a private person.”

“Yes, I am.”

“She told me about your dad too, but I won't mention him.”

I took a deep breath. “Don't.”

“It's hard for me to imagine not knowing who your real old man was for all those years.”

“Troy, not only do
I
not want to talk about my private life, I don't want to hear
you
talk about it either. Get it?”

“Well, fine. I was just trying to bond with you.”

“Why?”

“I'm starting to like you better.”

“Great.” I didn't know how to deal with bonding Troy. I only knew how to deal with shit-head Troy.

 

Chapter 15

A
s we walked into the department lobby, Troy and I both had texts from Patrice: “Report immediately to my office when you return from wherever the hell you are.”

“Ball-buster,” Troy muttered.

She looked surprised to see us as we walked right into her office.

“Is Georgia not out there?”

“Must be at lunch. You want us to wait outside until we can be announced?” Troy asked.

She inhaled deeply. “No, no. So where were you?”

“At the Stillman farm,” I said, then filled her in.

“So now is Wesley Stillman at the top of your list?”

“He's right up there, what with the inconsistencies in his alibi,” Troy said.

“And he talks to God,” I added. “So, is that all you wanted?”

“No, the autopsy results are in. Have a seat.”

We each took a chair in front of her. She put the report in front of us and let us page through it. Of course, it was written in medical mumbo-jumbo.

She said, “I skipped to the summary. There was no determined cause of death. The toxicology screens were inconclusive. She had no pre-mortem broken bones, no evidence she was stabbed, shot, or strangled.”

“How can they conclude she hadn't been strangled with the blade of the Bobcat taking her body apart?” Troy asked.

“The hyoid bone was intact, as were the first seven cerebral vertebrae,” she said. “My bet is she was smothered. I'll make copies for you. By the way, I want you to sign out when you leave the department like everybody else.”

“Micromanaging again,” Troy said.

She glared at him. “No, it's procedure. What? You think you two should operate by different rules?”

Troy suddenly doubled over and groaned.

“What on earth is the matter with you?” Patrice asked, standing.

“I'm having a little indigestion. Must be the tater tot hot dish,” Troy said as he held his abdomen.

“You look freaking green, Troy. I better take you to the ER,” I said.

“Nah, I'll just lie down for a while,” he said.

“No, you need to get checked out,” Patrice said.

Troy moaned, then dropped to the floor and curled up in a ball. Patrice dialed 911 and asked for an ambulance.

When the EMTs arrived a few minutes later, Troy was attended to, placed on a stretcher, then whisked off to Birch County Regional Hospital.

Patrice, standing with her hands on her hips, turned to me and said, “Damn it. Now we're down to one full-time investigator.”

“Indigestion doesn't take people down like that. I'm gonna need help.” I looked at my watch. “And I have an interview in twenty minutes. I need to prepare.”

“I'll call Tamika Frank in to help with whatever you need.”

“What about Crosby Green?”

“I guess I could spare Crosby for a few hours a day.”

 

 

I looked through Troy's
papers
on his desk to see if he had notes prepared. His workstation was fairly neat, but I couldn't find anything and his desk drawers were locked. I sat and made a list of things Tamika and Crosby could do.

Tamika strolled into the office and sat in the chair at the empty desk. She was a presence: a six-foot-tall black woman who was competent, smart, and strong enough to flip a Minnesota Viking. It actually happened in June at a golf resort when one of the rookies got out of control at a wedding reception he wasn't invited to.

“You don't look any different, Sheehan,” she said.

“What?”

“Now that you're a husband and a stepdaddy. Hell, I thought you'd look beaten down.”

“Give it time.”

“You need any advice, I'm here for you.” She changed the subject. “So, Patrice says Troy's sick and you need some help.”

“I do. Crosby will help, too.”

I handed her a list of names and what questions to ask.

“I want to find out if these people saw something at the Fourth of July party at Odegard's cabin in 1996. Then, find out who had the cabin next door to Odegard's on Round Lake, then call Shelia Marks and ask about Silver's hospital volunteering. And find out if any one on this list buys bouquets of flowers regularly.”

“You serious?”

“Very. Why?”

“Seems like a lot to do.”

“That's why you were called in. I figure putting a bouquet out by the grave could be a ritual. If so, we need to check and see if any of those people bought bouquets regularly.”

“You think one of her friends killed her?” Tamika asked.

“These are people we need to eliminate. See?”

“Oh, I see all right,” she said.

Whatever that means.

She sat at Ralph Martinson's empty desk and started opening drawers and slamming them shut again.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for paper to write on so I won't have to walk all the way down to supply.”

I gave her a yellow note pad and a pen. “I have interviews.”

 

 

Crosby Green was waiting
in
the observation room.

“Boss just told me I get to help you on the case. Thanks.”

“You're welcome. Tamika can tell you what to do.”

Thomas Odegard arrived five minutes late. Jenny Deitz said he had become “brooding” after Silver Rae disappeared. With his deep-set, dark eyes and somber expression, it was a good word to describe him today as well. A section of his black hair flopped forward, covering most of his left eye. After I stated the case number and asked him to state his full name and address, he leaned in and said, “Thomas Vincent Odegard, 5100 Oak Avenue, Prairie Falls.”

“Do you still go by ‘Tommy'?”

“Tom.”

“What is your occupation?”

“I run a fishing guide service, mostly in Canada, but I do northern Minne­sota, too.”

“Big time of year for you. I was surprised to find you home.”

“Just a lull before fall fishing.”

“You took over your father's company?”

“Yes, after we worked together for several years.”

“When you were young, you hosted a lot of parties at your parents' cabin on Round Lake,” I said.

He leaned back and placed his folded hands on his abdomen. “Yeah, I was left alone a lot.” He began to twiddle his thumbs.

“You were with Silver Rae Dawson on the day she disappeared?”

Odegard repositioned himself in his chair, refolded his hands, and nodded. “Me and a bunch of other kids.”

“Tell me about that day.”

“Ah . . . we went waterskiing and hung out. Silver and Parker left early because she had to babysit. The rest of stayed at the cabin and partied until Jenny's old man busted us.”

“Did anyone's behavior seem out of the ordinary around that time?”

“You mean after she went missing?”

“Before and after.”

He shook his head. “Not that I noticed. We all felt bad when there was no news,” he said.

“Did you have feelings for Silver Rae?”

He turned his thumbs up in his folded hands. “She was a friend.”

“Anything more than that?”

“I had a little thing for her sophomore year, yeah.”

He crossed one leg over the other and bounced his foot.

“Did you ask her out?”

“Yep. She turned me down,” he said. “No big deal.”

“So she hurt your feelings?”

“I guess.”

“On July 4, 1996, you had a party at your cabin. Silver Rae was there.”

“In 1996? Isn't that the year
before
she disappeared?”

“It is. It's been said she appeared “impaired” at the party
.
We believe someone took advantage of her condition that day. You know of anyone who used date rape drugs at that time?”

Tom's eyes widened. “You kidding me?”

“Did she appear to be intoxicated?”

“I don't remember that.”

“Did you ever have words with Lucky Holmgren over Silver Rae?”

He hesitated before answering. “Okay, for Lucky and me, it was like some kind of competition. We both asked her out. She turned us both down. She was hot for Parker. We didn't have a chance.”

“The same night she disappeared, the sheriff's department answered a complaint call from your neighbors out at Round Lake.”

“Yeah, probably the Nygards. I didn't think we were even that loud, but sound carries on the lake. Anyway, Jenny Olson's dad showed up. He took her and Aubrey home.”

“And the rest of you?”

“He told us if the neighbors heard one peep he'd come back and arrest us.”

“Who was still there?”

“Just us guys: Lucky, Brian, and me. They only stayed a half-hour before they left. I cleaned the cabin, fell asleep awhile. When I woke up I drove home.”

“Why?”

“I had to let the dogs out and was supposed to take my grandma to church the next morning.”

“Anyone at home to give you an alibi?”

“My grandma. She lived with us at the time. She told the deputies she heard me come in before midnight.”

“Where's Grandma now?”

“In the cemetery, next to my old man,” he said.

“Did Parker show up at the cabin?”

“Not that I know of.”

“So you had a thing for Silver?”

He shrugged. “I said I did.”

“Want to know what I think, Tom? I think you had it bad for her. You found out Parker left the farm where she was babysitting early, so after you let the dogs out, you went out to see her. Maybe she resisted you. Maybe you got a little rough, and one thing led to another and she ends up dead . . .”

He face reddened. “What? You think I
killed her?” he said, as his hands clenched into fists.

“You're someone we're definitely looking at,” I said.

“I'd never have hurt Silver. You're right.” He pointed a finger at me. “I did have a thing for her. I was waiting for Parker to dump her for some college chick.”

“She thought she was going to marry him,” I said.

“His mother would have stopped that,” he said.

“Care to elaborate?” I asked.

“His mother called Silver a tramp right in front of us guys.”

“How did Parker react to that?”

“He was pissed, but didn't defend Silver—like I would have.”

“How did the other members of the Gage family treat her?”

“I didn't hear his old man badmouthing her, but he didn't discourage Lillian from doing it. Parker's sister, Aubrey, was one of her best friends, but at the end, they weren't even speaking.”

“Why not?”

“Silver said Aubrey was mad at her and ignoring her, so I watched. She was right. Aubrey spoke to everybody but her.”

“So she confided in you?”

He shrugged.

“She must have trusted you.”

He shrugged again as he looked down and away from me.

“What is it you're not telling me, Tom?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“What about Sawyer?”

“What about him?”

“Did he like Silver?”

“I wouldn't know.”

After a few more minutes of unproductive prodding, I asked him, “Anything more you think I should know that I haven't asked about?”

He shook his head.

I showed Tom out then Googled “Sawyer Gage” on my iPad. He was a realtor in Texas. I ran a criminal history: nothing but speeding tickets.

  

 

It was a first for
me:
interviewing a friend in a murder case. I'd known Lucky Holmgren for ten years. He was amiable and well-liked. I took him through the same line of questioning as I had Odegard, but in contrast to Tom's demeanor, Lucky leaned back in his chair and smiled his way through.

But when I made the same implications as I had with Tom—that he had gone out to the Summers's farm and accidentally hurt Silver Rae when she resisted him—he sat forward and furrowed his brows.

“Are you just going through the routine here? Or are you telling me you seriously consider me a suspect?”

“It's been said you asked Silver Rae out.”

“Well, yeah, but she turned me down. Can you imagine that?” He gave me a perplexed look. Then he flashed a smile.

I smiled back. “So she hurt your feelings?”

“Sure. The male ego thing, you know.”

“What about Brian Deitz? Did he like Silver as well?”

“Nah, Jenny already had him by the balls.”

“So, anything else I should know about Silver and her relationship with others or the day of her disappearance?”

What he said next gave me pause. “After Jenny's dad busted our party up the night she disappeared, it was just us guys left at the cabin. Tommy suggested we go out to the farm to keep Silver Rae company.”

“And what did you say?”

“To forget it.”

“Why?”

“It was a stupid idea.”

“Did you tell him where the farm was?”

“Hell, I didn't know.”

“So, you didn't go out there to keep her company?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Did you see Tom leave Round Lake?”

“No, Brian and I took off before he did.”

“Did you drive separate cars?”

“No, Brian picked me up and dropped me off.”

“If Brian was with Jenny, and Parker was with Silver, did you or Tom pair up with Aubrey Gage?”

“No. Although at that age I would have hooked up with any girl who seemed interested in me, Aubrey made it clear we were just friends.”

“When was the next time you spoke to Tom Odegard?”

“The next morning when I called him at home to tell him about Silver being missing.”

“And how did you find out she was missing?”