Silver's Bones (17 page)

We walked over to the small yellow rambler about a hundred yards from the main house. The kitchen was similar to the one in the farmhouse in that it was nothing fancy but clean and organized. He showed me to a small dining room. A grandfather clock ticked noisily in the corner as we took seats at the maple table.

“Well, I have to tell you when the girl disappeared it about killed my little brother,” Byron said. “He was beside himself when he heard it on the news.”

“Tell me about that.”

“We had the radio on as we ate breakfast. When they announced she was missing, he dropped his fork and jumped up saying he had to go look for her. We talked him out of leaving mainly because he was so upset, but he just paced and paced, so Dad said I should drive him over to help look for her. We only had one car at that time.”

“So you and your brother helped search?”

“Just for part of the day, and I believe it was a mistake. Wes is an open book, and his being so upset only brought attention to him. He
was
acting weird, especially when the investigator came out to talk to him on Sunday night. I can see why they suspected him. But he didn't have anything to do with it, and I'll testify to that fact. He was home at 8:45 p.m. on Saturday. I know because I had to wait until he got home from town so I could use the car. Anyway, he was home, snoring away, when I got back about one. His bedroom was right across the hall from mine.”

“What kind of vehicle did you drive?”

“An old Oldsmobile station wagon.”

“How did you know he didn't sneak out?”

“Because I had the only vehicle he could use.

“There wasn't a pick-up?”

“Dad's pick-up was new then. Only he drove it. He kept the keys hidden from us. Look, Wesley is a gentle person, and, in case you haven't figure this out, he's a little on the slow side, God love him. He wasn't good about speaking in his own defense.”

I questioned him further about the milk routes—Wesley's was the south side, his on the north. I asked if Wesley had guy friends or girlfriends, and if he talked about Silver. It was a negative on all three. I gained great sympathy for Wesley in that visit, and respect for Byron. He would be a good witness for Wesley's defense, should it come to that.

When I walked outside, I noticed dark clouds rolling across the sky. The wind was whipping the tree branches like they were rubber. By the time I got to my truck, a few drops of rain had become a deluge. With the wipers on full blast, the visibility was still only a few yards. Luckily the drive was a straight shot into town. Two blocks from my house, out of nowhere, a kid on a bike was in front of me. I honked and swerved, narrowly missing him. He gave me the finger as I drove by.
Little asshole.
I was never happier to drive into my garage.

When I walked into the kitchen, I was hit with the smell of dinner.

“What's cooking?” I asked Shannon while I grabbed a beer.

She kissed me. “One of the boys' favorites—tater tot hotdish.”

What Troy had for lunch before he got sick. Great.

“Smells good.”

“Adriana just called. She sounded frantic.”

“Now what?”

“You'll have to ask her.”

“Shit.”

 

Chapter 19

D
on't you ever answer your phone?” Adriana snapped.

“Of course.” Then I recalled I'd turned the ringer off during the interviews. I had a slight problem remembering to turn it back on.

“What's up that you have to call my family's
home
phone?”

“
What's up
is someone painted the words ‘Silver's Bones' on my downstairs glass patio door!”

“Sounds like something a kid would do. Take a razor blade and scrape it off.”

“Cal . . . it's on the
inside
.”

“Someone got in your house? With Tino in there?”

“I put him in the outdoor kennel when I leave. Now when can you get out here?”

“In case you haven't noticed, the weather's bad. I barely made it home.”

“When, then?”

“Maybe tomorrow afternoon. I have to be in Minneapolis in the morning. Make sure you lock your doors and turn on your security system, if you have one. And leave the
guard
dog in the house to
guard
. ”

“Cal, I turned it on when we left. They got in anyway without tripping the alarm and the security company says it's working.”

“What mode?”

“Away. So even if windows or doors were
unlocked
—which they weren't—the alarm would have sounded with any movement.”

“Then it was probably on there before and you didn't notice it.”

“It wasn't.”

“Have you given the code to anyone else?” I said.

“Just Maddie,” she said.

“Well, you'll have to change it. Kids can hack into anything these days.”

“You think it's kids?” she asked.

“A kid bought the fabric,” I told her.

“Do you know who?”

“Not yet. We're working on it. In the meantime, I think you should look around and make sure nothing's been taken.”

“Cal, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just upset,” Adriana said.

“I know. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait. Are you still mad at me for talking about you to Troy? I just thought you two would get along better if he understood your life.”

“Look, I gotta go.”

I hung up and Shannon stared at me.

“What was all that about?”

“Adriana found ‘Silver's Bones' painted on the inside of her glass patio door.”

“Well, that's super creepy. Why did you sound angry?”

“She's telling Troy personal shit about me.”

“What shit?”

“About my family members' deaths.”

“So what?”

“So he says that's the reason why I struggle with notifying families of deaths. It's bullshit, you know. I have empathy, which he obviously doesn't.”

“Obviously.”

 

 

Shannon and I were just
getting ready for bed when the landline phone rang again. Shannon read the display. “Adriana,” she said.

I put my hand up. “Don't answer it. She can call 911 like everybody else.”

“Hello?” Shannon said into the receiver.

I waved my arms to get her attention. “I'm not home,” I mouthed.

Shannon listened, said, “Oh, no,” occasionally, then said, “I'll have him call you as soon as he walks in the door.”

When she hung up I said, “Why did you do that?”

“Because she found lit candles in her bathroom and writing on her mirror. She wants it documented.”

“Damn it. Go out there with me?”

“I can't. Britanny's out.”

 

 

By the time I picked
up
my crime scene evidence kit and signed out a department vehicle, the rain had diminished to a drizzle. When I arrived at Adriana's, she reintroduced me to her flakey sister, Gina, who was standing beside Magna. Her eyes were glassy, making her look half in the bag. From three feet away I could smell she stank of smoke. She was much shorter than Adriana, maybe five-foot-five, slim, and she slouched. She tried to emulate Adriana's style but her attempts were a little off, either because she didn't have the knack or the money. For example, it looked like she used a serving fork to streak platinum blond into her brown hair.

Everyone, including Tino, followed us down to the lower level when Adriana showed me the inside of the patio door. I snapped photos of the words “Silver's Bones”
written in silver paint.

“When was the last time this window was cleaned?” I asked. “You had a lot of people going in and out during the recovery.”

“The cleaning lady was just here Friday,” Magna said.

“Does she know the code?” I asked.

“No, I'm always here when she comes. She wants it that way,” Adriana said.

“What's her name?”

“Lois Dodge. The Warners have used her for years.”

“Well then,” I said, maybe a bit too sarcastically. Phillip Warner was her boss. Thought he was hot shit. I wrote Lois's name in my notebook. “Are you sure you checked the doors and windows and armed the security system before you left?”

Adriana put her hands on her hips. “Goddamn it. Yes!”

“I saw her use her key bob when we left,” Gina said.

“Fob! Key
fob
!” Adriana said.

“Whatever,” Gina said.

“So, tell me, how would anyone get in without a key or knowing the code and not trip the alarm?”

“Isn't that your job to figure out?” Adriana said.

Okay . . . now I just want to say “screw you!”
But I took a breath and said, “Okay. Was anything missing?”

“No, but look at this.”

We walked the short distance to the lower level bathroom. She turned on the shower of the guest bath and closed the door behind us. I was suspicious of her intentions until she pointed at the mirror and said, “Look!”

The word “Silver” was visible on the foggy mirror.

“It's a simple trick. All that's needed is anti-fog solution and a Q-tip,” I said.
If looks could kill
. “I'll take a photo,” I added hastily.

Gina shouted through the door, “It's her spirit! You're not going to catch it on film.”

Adriana swung open the door. “It's not Silver Rae Dawson. It's vandals.”

Magna said, “Okay, let's say it is a live human being. Why do they want to frighten us?”

I shook my head. “People are sick.”

“And you haven't even seen the worst part. It's in the master bath.”

Everyone traipsed behind Adriana as we moved upstairs to her bathroom. She pointed to the tub, where six large silver candles were placed. The candles had been burned for a time.

“Those are
not
my candles. And do you see the silver glitter sprinkled in the bottom of the tub? Would I do that?” she said.

“Who the hell would put glitter in a tub?” I asked.

“Not me!” Gina interjected. “I wouldn't want glitter getting in my lady parts. No, it's her spirit.”

I said, “Oh, for the love of God, Gina. Spirits don't light candles, write in silver paint and throw glitter around.”

“How do you know?” Gina asked.

“The girl's family could be doing this,” Magna said.

That was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I shook my head. “The Dawsons are too involved in their own grief to play these silly games.”

Adriana said, “Really, Mom?”

“Who else knows the code?” I asked.

“Just Mom and Maddie . . . and Troy.”

Troy knows her code?
I rolled my eyes. “You know Maddie well enough to count her out?”

“Yes, of course. She'd never do anything like this. Besides, she was with her parents all day.”

“Okay, well, I might be able to lift prints, so why don't you all just wait in the living room and not touch anything. I'll get someone out here to help me.”

Magna and Gina meandered away. Adriana remained.

“I called the security company. They're installing cameras first thing tomorrow. They'll program it so I can get photos of my house every hour, and motion will also trigger it to snap photos.”

“Good idea,” I said.

“I'm sorry to pull you away from your family tonight.”

“It's my job. Did you ever think Gina might be just messing with you? She's a little looney.”

She made a scoffing sound. “Of course not. She's really spooked.”

“She
is
a spook,” I muttered as I grabbed my phone to call dispatch.

Thirty minutes later, Tamika arrived—with Patrice Clinton. This nuisance vandalism didn't need the sheriff's attention.

“I want you to do DNA testing,” Adriana demanded of Patrice.

“At this point, this isn't serious enough to warrant the expense, but Tamika and Cal are documenting and taking fingerprints,” Patrice said.

Tamika helped me take photographs, bag glitter and paint samples, then we lifted fingerprints off doors, windows, candles, and the tub. Before she left, Patrice suggested to Adriana that she and her family come to the department tomorrow to have their fingerprints taken. I was hopeful the person responsible was stupid and left prints all over the place. When finished, I followed Patrice and Tamika out to the squad. It had stopped raining. The dank fishy odor of the lake and wet foliage instantly brought back memories of playing in and around Gull Lake as a child. And of Hank floating facedown.

“Who would know the code or be able get in without one?” Patrice asked. “And I'll vouch for Lois Dodge. She's cleaned our home for years and has impeccable credentials.”

“Cleaning ladies have credentials?” I asked.

“You know what I mean.”

“It could be the same person who lit the silver fabric on fire. It's all too much of a coincidence,” I said.

“She told me Troy Kern and her neighbor are the only ones she's given the code to, so how would anyone get in?” Patrice said.

Tamika said, “Anyone who entered at the same time as Adriana. They could watch her punch it in.”

I answered, “Good point. Does anyone else see our perpetrator as female? I mean with the candles, glitter, and shit?”

Tamika screwed up her face. “Not necessarily. My Anton puts out candles and flower petals when he wants to romance me.”

“Anton is masculine enough to show his feminine side,” I said, throwing her own line back at her.

“And I'm feminine enough to show my masculine side and tackle a redneck or three to the ground.” She chuckled.

Patrice seemed to ignore our comments. “Okay, what's the motive here? Is it about Silver or is it about scaring Adriana?”

“Toss-up,” I said. “Adriana's having her codes changed and cameras installed.”

“Good. Talk to Madison Mitchell and Lois. Ask if either saw or heard anything,” Patrice said.

“I will. By the way, Wesley Stillman's brother, Byron, convinced me Wes was home from 8:45 p.m. on. He seems more normal than the rest of the family.”

“Wes is off your list?”

“Let's say moved down. I'll run the evidence in and see you two later,” I said.

“I'll do it,” Patrice said. “You go home to your family.”

“Uh, okay, thanks.”

That was a surprise. Patrice's micromanaging just made my job easier. But I wondered why she was so involved in vandalism of this level. They took off and as I started my ignition a thought occurred to me. I shut off the engine and walked around to look at Tino's kennel. I was able to open the gate from the exterior, crawl through the doggy door and into another caged area in the garage. I opened the inside kennel gate, walked through the garage and into the kitchen, where I caught Gina sucking on a wine bottle behind the fridge door.

“What?” she said.

“Adriana!” I shouted.

She hurried around the corner and said, “What is it?”

I told her what I'd just done, and that the vandals probably did the same.

“Oh, my God. And Tino just probably wagged his tail.”

“They would still need to turn off the alarm, so someone knows the code.”

“I don't know how, but I see your point.”

“What was your code?”

“My birthday.”

“Jesus Christ. Change the code and put a lock on the outside kennel gate ASAP.”

 

 

Shannon was reading
in bed
when I got home, waiting up to hear all about it.

“I think it's kids trying to recreate a scary movie or something,” she said.

“Yeah, you're probably right. But then again, maybe it's just a little too clever for kids.”

“Oh, let's put it out of our heads. Come here, my weary soldier.”

“Are you whistling ‘Dixie'?”

She puckered up to whistle and I kissed her. After we made love, she snuggled in. We lay quietly for a time before I kissed her on the forehead and said, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I patted her and she drew circles in my chest hair with her finger. “Um, I've been waiting to tell you something,” she said.

What the . . . ?
“Waiting to tell me what?”

“I'm late.”

“Late?”

“My period is way overdue.”

I fought my urge to bolt out of bed. Instead,
I asked calmly, “How
much
overdue?”

“Six weeks. You know I'm always twenty-eight days. I guess I lost track because I was so busy with the wedding and move.”

Lost track? Six weeks? Why hadn't I noticed? Why hadn't
she
noticed? Why hadn't she told me before this? “Have you bought one of those pee-on-the-stick tests?”