Silver's Bones (18 page)

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Authors: Midge Bubany

BOOK: Silver's Bones
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“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”

“But you've been drinking.”

“I know. It scares me.”

I kissed her on the forehead and said, “Well, it'll be okay. It's all good, babe.”

Then I began to try to calculate when the baby would be born and how much my life—
our
lives—would change. I must have been more fatigued than I thought because the sound of her voice startled me out of a drowsy state.

“Would my being pregnant make you happy?”

My eyes snapped open. Big question. I had to answer this one right. “You bet. I love kids.” I kissed her and once again she snuggled in.

I do love kids,
I thought.
But I wasn't expecting her to get pregnant the fricking second she went off the pill. Three kids? Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man. And who the hell is screwing with Adriana?

 

Chapter 20

August 20

A
ll was quiet in the Sheehan household when I took Bullet for a run before daylight. The cloud cover had dissipated and the full moon lit my way through Park South. Bullet had adapted nicely to running off leash. He ran ahead, stopped to sniff, then fell in stride when he noticed I pulled ahead of him.

I love this time of day when dawn creeps in, tinting the sky pink. As I ran I tried to concentrate on what I needed to ask Sawyer Gage's pals, but Shannon and the need for a pregnancy test kept me distracting me.
Oh, man.

While I was showering after my run, I sensed movement through the glass shower door. Shannon had come in to kneel in front of the toilet.
Ohhh. Don't really need the kit to tell us what her stomach just did.
I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out. Now, I can deal with puking drunks from here to Sunday, but this morning, watching her puke made me gag. I thought of my former boss's trick, which was to think about cleaning fish to get unwanted thoughts out of his mind. So while I sympathetically rubbed her back, I was filleting a walleye. When she finished, she flushed the toilet, and said, “Oh, boy.”

“Yeah, oh, boy.”

Her head pivoted to mine. She had an ugly, mean look I'd never seen before—as if this was
my
fault.
She crawled back into bed. I dressed in silence then kissed her good-bye. Why was she mad at me? She was the one who wanted to go off the pill months before we actually wanted to conceive because it took “sooo long to get pregnant.”
Wrong. Not so long. I must have good swimmers.

 

 

I was on Highway 10
just past Little Falls when my skin prickled. I had one of those “oh, the hell no” moments. I called Patrice and gave her my thoughts on who may have been responsible for Adriana's vandalism.

“It could be her ex-stepdaughter, Victoria Lewis,” I told the sheriff. “She briefly worked as a reporter for the
Birch County Register
. She's a master at manipulation, and she orchestrated several stunts against herself just to get the news story, filed false police reports, then when discovered, she took off before she could be charged. This is right up her alley.”

“Hmm. I remember the story. Quite an embarrassment for the department and the newspaper. You were personally involved with her, as I recall.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Long story you don't want to hear.”

“Well, if she's back in town, we can arrest her for making the false police report,” she said.

“Reports. There were several. But I'm afraid it won't stick. Her daddy can hire kazillion-dollar lawyers.”

“Doesn't mean we can't try. You have the paperwork, correct?”

“Yeah, sure. So, have you heard what's wrong with Troy?”

“Just a second . . . I wrote it down. Okay, it's Cholecystitis—inflammation of the gallbladder. He'll be in the hospital until it settles down and will eventually have to have surgery.”

“Sounds serious. Do they know how long he'll be out?”

“He says two to three days, but his doctor says four. He wants to be back on this investigation in the worst way. Are you using Tamika to help you out? Besides last night, that is?”

“Yes, and Crosby too.”

“Good then. Now get it done.”

No pressure.

 

 

It was 8:55 a.m.
when
I arrived at the Perkins in Plymouth. There was one guy sitting on the bench in the waiting area. He looked like a devil with his dark eyebrows turning up on the ends, closely placed, dark, beady eyes, and a goatee.

“Kyle Nelson?” I asked.

He nodded. I introduced myself and showed him my badge. He actually grabbed it from my hands to read it. There's a first for everything.

“You have a half-hour because I have a tee time,” he said.

Oh, really? How about I cuff you to my wrist just because I can?

He marched up to the hostess and looked up at her—he was five-foot-four at most—and demanded we be seated.
Little prick.
I showed her my badge and asked if we could be seated in an area where we could talk privately. Nelson rolled his eyes. She showed us to an empty section by the windows.

When we were alone he asked, “Did you have to do that? Show your badge?”

“Yeah, I kind of like doing it.”

“Figures. So what's this about?”

“Silver Rae Dawson. We found her remains near Lake Emmaline?”

“I heard. It's been in the news every day. So what's it got to do with me?”

The waitress came and delivered water and menus. We looked at the menus and closed them. She noticed and was at our side.

“I'll have one egg, toast, and orange juice,” he said.

I ordered the tremendous twelve: four pancakes, four pieces of bacon, three eggs, hash browns, and coffee.

Nelson's mouth gaped in astonishment.

“May as well get started.” I unzipped my briefcase and pulled out my notebook and iPad. After I turned it on, I stated the identifying information.

He glared at me with beady little eyes. I believe he meant to intimidate me.

“Does that usually work for you?” I asked.

“What?”

“Acting like an asshole.”

He started to get up. I pulled out my cuffs. “Sit down.”

He did.

“How did you know Silver Rae Dawson?”

“I didn't . . . know her well, anyway. She was a couple years younger.”

“But you knew her well enough to dance with her.”

“What?”

“You danced with her at a party at Tom Odegard's cabin on the Fourth of July in 1996.”

“If you say so. I don't recall.”

“Did you see Silver Rae Dawson the weekend she disappeared?”

“Why would I have?” He sounded like a punk kid—same smart-ass tone.

“You can lose the attitude.” I set the cuffs on the table. He sat back.

“No, I didn't see her.”

“How did you find out she was missing?”

“Can I ask
why
you're questioning
me
about this?”

“No. Just answer my questions.”

He sighed. “I don't remember.”

“And what did you do that Saturday night?”

“I stayed home.”

“You weren't with Sawyer Gage?”

“No, why? Did he say I was?”

“Did you help search for Silver Rae?”

“On Sunday. I walked cornfields like everybody else.”

“Let's get back to the party where you
danced
with Silver.”

“I told you I don't remember, but so what if I did?”

“Tell me about that day. Who you were with? What happened?”

“Hell, it was what? Sixteen years ago? I have only a vague memory of even going to the party.”

“I'm told she acted out of character that day.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“You ever see anyone slip anything into girls' drinks?”

“You serious?”

I nodded.

“Of course not.” He exaggeratedly shook his head.

I wanted to push the corners of his eyebrows down—see if they'd stay there.

“Your crowd do drugs at the time?”

Nelson shrugged. “A little pot is all.”

“Did Sawyer Gage talk about Silver Rae?”

“I don't remember who or what he talked about that long ago.”

It went on this way until our food came. By that time, I was pretty done with the asshole. I figured Nelson either didn't know anything or wasn't talking—and he didn't stay to watch me finish my tremendous twelve.
What an unlikable little prick.

  

 

I called Shannon
from the
Perkins's lot before I started driving home.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Better. Sorry I was crabby this morning. This pregnancy is a big surprise.”

“Hey, I like big surprises,” I said. “This is all good.”

“Cal, thank you for saying that.”

“I mean it.” My tremendous twelve threatened to make a reappearance.

“It took me a year to get pregnant with both boys. I can't believe it happened this fast.”

“I'm pretty virile, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Yes, I've noticed.”

“Are you going to buy one of those kits today.”

“If I have time.”

“It'd be nice to know for sure.”

“I know.” Shannon changed the subject. “Patrice said you thought Victoria might be responsible for the vandalism. ”

“Just a thought.”

“She asked Adriana to get hold of her ex-husband. She told her you'd be in touch with her.”

“Nuts.”

“Why ‘nuts'?”

“I dislike dealing with her.”

“Well, buck up. It's your job.”

So, I dialed her number. “Adriana, it's Cal.”

“I
know
your voice.”

“Sheriff Clinton wanted me to contact you.”

“Yes. I just talked to Adam. His secretary wasn't going to put me through, but I was in no mood to be messed with.”

“I know that mood.”

“Ha, ha. Anyway, he wasn't very nice. He wants the Beemer back. He said his attorney would be in touch with my attorney.”

“Screw him. The law is on your side.”

“No, it's not. Adam gave it to me
before
we got married. It's in his name, and he's still paying the insurance. The ring, however, is a wedding gift and I can keep it. Oh, I can't wait until this is all settled. He said it'd be an easy divorce but he's the one being difficult. This should have been over months ago.”

Not my circus, not my monkeys.
“Adriana, I was calling about Victoria.”

“Oh, right. Well, Adam insists she's still out of the country.”

“Did he say where?”

“He wouldn't tell me, but I have an idea she's in Paris. Adam's sister Joanne lives there.”

“Do you know her?”

“Never met her, but I talked to her on the phone once.”

“Why don't you give her a call? And from now on, only call me on my department phone. Here's the number. If I don't answer, leave a message.” I rattled off the digits for her.

“Fine.” It was her favorite word when she was pissed.

 

Chapter 21

A
s I approached Maple Grove on west 94, Crosby called.

“I contacted the Wolfsons. Jonah works as a second-shift custodian at the high school, three to eleven, Monday through Friday. He's willing to talk to you anytime. Laurel works at Save-Rite, days, six to two. She'd prefer to meet after work. I have both cell phone numbers.”

“I'm driving. Email them to me. What else did you find out?”

“Not much.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

I pulled off on County Road 30 and searched my phone for a pharmacy. After wandering the aisles of Target in Maple Grove, I finally found the display of pregnancy test kits near the pharmacy. There were rows and rows of different brands. I picked two of the most expensive ones because I wanted the best money could buy, and a backup if we didn't like the first reading. Then I found myself strangely drawn to the baby department.

Look at all the baby paraphernalia! This is going to be expensive.

We'd have to buy a crib, a car seat, diapers, and whatever the hell all this other stuff was. I'd have to paint the bedroom next to ours a baby color—pink or blue, maybe yellow.
Shit. Listen to me
. I checked my chest to see if I was growing tits.

The elderly woman clerk asked if I found everything I needed.

“Yes.”

After she swiped the boxes, I asked, “Are these tests reliable?”

“I wouldn't know. They weren't invented when I had my kids. They were all surprises.”

I nodded. “Mine too. I guess I have good swimmers.”

She smiled and told me I owed $54.59.

“I'm sure they're both excellent tests. Good luck to you and your swimmers.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

When I got to the
office,
the first thing I did was run Jonah Wolfson's criminal history: he'd served five months from January to May in 1997 for domestic violence. Nothing since.

Judging from his raspy voice on the phone when I set up the interview, and given his incarceration history, I expected Jonah to be either an oversized redneck or a tattooed skinhead. But his baby face and brown custodial uniform made him look like a boy scout. He smelled of aftershave and cigarette smoke.

“Thanks for coming in,” I said, shaking his hand.

“So, why me?”

“We're asking some folks who knew Silver Rae to come in and answer some questions. Your wife was close to her.”

He nodded. “Well, I knew her but didn't hang out with her.”

His whole body twitched as he spoke, so I tried to put him at ease, smiling when I asked him personal questions, which he answered without reservation. He was a custodian at Prairie Falls High School, had just earned his boiler license, and was waiting for an opening for a head custodian position. He and Laurel had three kids: a fifteen-year-old girl and two boys, ages twelve and ten. I wondered if he knew his wife had nearly gotten arrested on Adriana's property.

Then I sat forward and looked serious. “I'm told you attended a party on Round Lake on the Fourth of July in '96.”

He turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “What year did she die?”

“She disappeared in 1997.”

“So the year before? Oh, okay, because I was married in the fall of '96 and didn't do too much partying at Round Lake after that.”

“Do you remember seeing Silver Rae there?”

“Kinda.”

“You danced with her?”

“Maybe . . . yeah, I guess I did.”

“How was she acting?”

“Loose,” he said.

“Know of any reason for that?”

“It was a drinking party,” he said, raising his brows.

“Did you see anyone put anything into Silver's drink?”

He shifted in his chair. “Okay, I don't know why I remember this, but Silver Rae said she had a headache and a guy I know pulls out a baggie of white pills. Says they're aspirin and gave her one. She said she needed two and he laughed and said, ‘This is extra-strength. It'll be enough to get rid of a headache'. But who carries aspirin in a baggie? Right?”

“Right. Does this guy have a name?”

“Sawyer Gage.”

Okay, here we go.
“Had you seen him dole out these white pills on other occasions?”

“Yeah, I saw him give one to a girl at a party near the U earlier that summer. She got so wasted she pretty much passed out.”

“So when he gave one to Silver you didn't say anything?”

“Guess I was an asshole in those days.”

“Where did Sawyer get the drugs?”

He shook his head. “Some guy in the Cities who used to live in Prairie Falls.”

“Was it Rohypnol?”

“Huh?”

“A roofie?”

“Oh, yeah, probably.”

“So he gave Silver a roofie and you all danced with her?”

“Well, I danced with Laurel most of the time.”

“Anyone pair off with Silver?”

“Guess I wasn't paying much attention.”

“Did Sawyer dance with her?”

He hesitated, then said, “I don't remember.”

“Did he or anyone disappear with her at any point?”

“I couldn't say.”

“Couldn't or won't?”

“No, I don't remember what anyone did or didn't do other than I saw Sawyer give her the pill.”

“Did he ever talk about Silver?”

“We talked about a lot of girls. Why so many questions about that party?”

“Just gathering information about any events prior to her disappearance.”

He shrugged. “Oh.”

“Where were you the night Silver Rae disappeared?”

“With my wife and baby.”

“You married young,” I observed.

“Just graduated from high school. I'd been seeing Laurel only a month when she got pregnant, so instead of going to college, I got married and got a job with the school district. Hannah was born at the end of March.”

“But you weren't home then.”

“No, I was incarcerated. But you knew that, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“I vowed I'd never screw up like that again, and I haven't.”

“How did you find out about Silver?”

“Somebody called Laurel Sunday morning. She got so hysterical I could hardly understand her. She finally calmed down enough to tell me Silver disappeared while she was babysitting on some farm.”

“Did you help search for her?”

“No, I stayed home with Hannah so Laurel could go.”

“Was Silver ever at your place?” I asked.

“Sure, a couple of times.”

“Did you approve of your wife's friendship with her?”

He screwed up his face. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Do you have any information about what happened to Silver Rae?”

“No, I sure don't.”

“Were you hanging around your old friends Sawyer or Kyle at that time?”

“No, things changed. They were college boys and I wasn't.”

I asked him a few more questions he didn't have answers for and then walked him out.

Seemed like every interview gave me another piece of the jigsaw puzzle. The big one today was that rat bastard, Sawyer Gage, gave Silver a suspicious pill. Next up—find out what Laurel knew.

 

 

Laura Wolfson no longer
had
the round, soft appearance of her yearbook photo. She had sunken cheeks and her Save-Rite uniform hung on her. The dark lipstick, two-toned magenta-and-black hair, and the earrings up the side of her earlobes did little to distract from the tiny facial wrinkles prematurely forming around her eyes. I wondered if she was ill, anorexic, or living hard that made her look ten years older.

“I'm Deputy Investigator Cal Sheehan.”

We shook hands.

“Hi. I recognize you from the store.”

“Have a seat,” I said.

I turned on the iPad as a backup and stated the case number, et cetera.

“You visited the site where they found Silver Rae's remains?” I began.

“I just wanted to see where they found my friend.”

“Must be hard on you.”

“Yes, it is.” She burst into tears. “Sorry,” she said, trying to control her tears.

“No worries.” I let her cry for a while then said, “She must have been a good friend of yours.”

She nodded.

“She helped you through some hard times?”

She looked up at me as if she wondered how I knew. “She was my best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Tell me why.”

“Well, when I was pregnant she was supportive—real supportive. She didn't dump me like other kids did.”

“How else did she help you?”

She made a face like she didn't understand what I was asking.

“I think there's more to it,” I said.

She shook her head and said, “No,” but her eyes betrayed her. I'd come back to it later. Her story about the Fourth of July party offered nothing new other than she did know Silver thought she got pregnant at the party.

“She ended up having a miscarriage but least she dint have to get no abortion. She woulda though, cuz she said her parents would kill her, especially if she dint know who the daddy was. I guess that's why she liked to hold Hannah so much when she was a baby. I think she felt sad about losing hers.”

“Did she tell you who she thought the father was?”

“No, she dint even remember doin' it.”

“What could have caused her to lose her memory like that?”

“Probably a roofie. Jonah said he seen girls on it and they were giving guys blowjobs and stuff and dint remember any of it the next day. I thought those drugs made 'em pass out, but Jonah says mostly it makes 'em real loose and they don't remember anything after. So that musta been it.”

“Did you see her do anything sexual at the party?”

“No, no. Just dancing a little sexy with some boys.”

“Who were they?”

“Jonah for one. I kinda pushed her away so I could dance with him.”

“When you were first married, you and your husband had some problems?”

“Yes.”

“Did Silver ever witness any physical abuse?”

Laurel's neck reddened. “No. It only happened the once.”

“Did she help you that
one
time?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Can I have a smoke?” she asked.

“Sorry, not allowed in the building.”

She twirled her hair nervously. I waited her out.

“What was the question?” she finally asked.

“Did Silver help you when you and Jonah had problems?” I repeated.

“She listened to me, is all.”

“How about when Jonah was incarcerated?”

“Yeah, 'bout the only one 'sides my ma I could talk to. She knew I was lonely.”

“Did she tell you about her problems as well?”

“Well, Parker's parents hated her—Aubrey was being a jealous bitch, too. It broke Silver's heart.”

“Did she talk to you about Wesley Stillman?”

“She thought he was sweet.”

“Was she at all worried about his behavior?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you know of anything happening that might have something to do with her disappearance?”

“No. I hadn't seen her for like a month before she disappeared.”

“One more question. Did you tie silver ribbons on the trees by where Silver was found?”

Her face flushed. “Yes, I did, just like before in '97—in Silver's memory. Is it a crime?”

“I appreciate your honesty, and yes, it's trespassing. You can't just go on someone's property like that.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“No. I think the homeowner will understand. Did you do anything else in Silver's memory?”

“No, sir. I heard in the news someone set a fire out at the place. That was totally stupid. I'd never do anything like that.”

I finished up the interview, which provided nothing new, added to my notes, then made my way home.

 

 

I was tired and hungry
when I drove into the garage at six o'clock. I made a beeline for Shannon, who was sitting at the round patio table on the deck by herself. Bullet, who had been lying by her side, ran up to me with a tennis ball in his mouth. I loved him up, and then threw the ball for him. I kissed Shannon and put the bag of pregnancy kits in front of her.

She peeked in and quickly closed the bag. “You bought two?”

“Yep. Want to try one out?”

“Not now.”

Colby came out to give me a hug.

“Where's your brother?” I asked.

“On the computer.”

I grabbed Colby and held him up by his feet. He began to giggle.

“What did you do today?” I asked as I bounced him up and down.

“I got a haircut,” Colby said, in between giggles.

“I see that. Looking good, little man.”

I set him down and he held on to my leg as I tried to walk.

Shannon said, “Colby wanted his cut and styled just like yours.”

I smiled down at him. “Really? I'm going up to take a shower. Maybe we can play a little family ball after supper—get the boys off the electronics.”

She gave me a look that meant either
good luck with that
or
butt out
.

Colby went back inside and I grabbed the bag and said, “I'll take these upstairs.”

I put them in the cabinet under the vanity in our bathroom, took a quick shower and went back downstairs. I stopped to look in on Luke, who was so engrossed in his game he didn't respond to my hello until I'd said it three times. I wanted to grab the laptop and throw it out the window. Instead, I grabbed a beer and joined Shannon on the deck.

She said, “Your family is coming for dinner tomorrow night so you can meet Angelica.”

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