Silver's Bones (27 page)

 

Chapter 32

I
placed Jonah in the backseat of Greg's squad. As I tried to talk to him, Buck repeatedly yelled, “Police brutality!”

“Take Mr. Wolfson inside and get his story,” I said to Woods.

Shannon took the old man's elbow but he shook her off. I bristled. Greg then grabbed his arm, Shannon took the other side and they easily escorted him to the house.

“What's going on, Deputy?” Jonah asked. “Why are you here?”

“So, you left your injured wife to come out and shoot a dog?” I said.

“Injured?”

“Don't play dumb.”

“Seriously, man, I don't know what you're talking about. What's wrong with her?”

He was either telling the truth or an excellent liar.

“She's been hit in the jaw. Going to need surgery.”

“Well, nobody told me. Is she at the hospital?”

“Yes, I took her in. She didn't want to go because she didn't want to get
you
in trouble.”

“That's bullshit. What time was this? Because I only left the house an hour ago. I was getting ready for work when my old man calls me crying, says he's got to put Caesar down and couldn't bring himself to do it.”

“An hour ago I stopped by your house to talk to you. Saw Laurel's face broken.”

“So you assumed I did it. Well, I didn't touch her. She obviously didn't tell you the truth.”

“What? She ran into a door?”

“She's protecting someone and it isn't me.”

“No?”

“It's Hannah.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Our daughter is bipolar but sometimes refuses to take her meds, then she gets out of control. I've had it with her. She needs help . . .
we
need help.”

“Well, now you'll get it,” I said. “Let me see your hands.”

He put his hands out, palms up.

“Flip them.”

He did. They were clear of injury. He could have struck her with an object, but right now, I tended to believe him.

Jonah asked, “You said you went to the house to talk to me about something?”

“We'll get this situation straightened out first. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Greg Woods and Shannon came out of the house. Buck had confirmed Jonah's story. I let Jonah drive his Suburban back into town and told him to go straight to the department. With a three-unit police escort, I figured he would comply.

 

 

Shannon went back
on patrol—I
think. She pulled off as soon as we drove into the parking lot. During the whole incident, she'd barely looked at me.

I headed to the Wolfson's to pick up Hannah. When I knocked on their door, the oldest boy let me in. He and his brother were playing Legos on the floor while Hannah watched MTV. The boys looked like their father. I spoke to them briefly, asking what had happened that morning. They told me Hannah had gotten mad and threw a chair at their mother.

The girl didn't seem to care what I was doing there until I told her we were meeting her dad at the sheriff's department to discuss her mother's injuries. Then she got all pinched-faced and screamed at her brothers for lying. But she did voluntarily come with me to the squad car.

“What are you looking at?” she hissed at the neighbor, who was watering her flowers.

After I put Hannah in the backseat, I stopped to introduce myself to the neighbor and asked if she could watch the boys.

Mary Ann Johnson smiled and said, “Not a problem.
They're
good kids. But that girl is something else.” She shook her head.

I radioed Woods to go back and talk to the boys and the neighbor. Ideally, I would have sent Shannon because she was the best we had with family interviews.

Back at the department,
Jonah was waiting for us in an interview room. Because she was a minor, Hannah's father would be allowed to be present when we questioned her. When she caught sight of Jonah, her face turned down into a pout and she crossed her arms in defiance. I had her sit next to her father. She answered my questions about how her mother had been injured with shrugs and “I dunno.”

“Hannah, your mother is in bad shape,” I said. “She's in surgery and your dad wants to be there when she wakes up. You need to tell us the truth so you all can be on your way.”

She began to cry. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

For a good two minutes she sobbed, throwing in an occasional “Sorry, Daddy.” It soon became obvious she was forcing her cries, reminding me of the tactics a toddler.

I said, “Hannah, it's time to stop crying and tell me what happened.”

She stared straight ahead and didn't talk. This was getting me nowhere so I decided to turn it around. “Suppose you begin by telling me what your mother did to make you so angry.”

A short hesitation, then, “She didn't replace my iPod.”

“What?” Jonah asked.

“Well, she ruined mine by washing it in the washing machine. It was her fault.”

Jonah rolled his eyes and sat back. He shook his head at me.

“So how did your mom's face get hurt?” I asked.

“I dunno.”

She wasn't making a lot of eye contact with either of us.

“You know, Hannah,” I said.

She sat and played with her fingers for a few seconds before she said, “Okay, she hit it on a chair.”

“How did the chair find her face?”

“I accidentally tossed it.”

“When you were angry at her?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you need some help with your anger issues?”

She gave me attitude as she shrugged.

“Jonah, let's step out in the hall,” I said.

When I shut the door behind us, he asked, “Are you going to keep her?”

“We can release her into your custody after the paperwork is done.”

“I'd just as soon she stay overnight. Let her understand how serious this is. Is that possible?”

“Sure. I'll call our juvenile unit. You want to step in and tell her?”

“Then can I go? I need to check on the boys before I go to the hospital to be with Laurel.”

“Yes, and Mrs. Johnson said she'd watch the boys.”

“Good. I'll stop by anyway.”

When we reentered the room, Hannah finally looked scared.

“Hannah,” Jonah said. “I've had it with your behavior. You need to be responsible and take your meds so you can manage your moods and temper. This time Mom is really hurt. Now the sheriff is involved and your actions are not going to be overlooked. It's really serious and they're keeping you.”

“No, Daddy. Don't leave me here.” She started wailing.

“Jonah, just go. We'll take care of it,” I said. “I want to talk to you later concerning another matter.”

“Okay, I'll stop by on my way home from the hospital.”

“Call this number,” I said, handing him my card.

Hannah would have some thinking time.

So, was Jonah a good guy after all? Would a six-month stint in jail have reformed him into a loving, controlled spouse and father? Or was it that he did something really bad—so bad it made him walk the straight and narrow?

No one said investigating a fifteen-year-old case was easy, but I needed a break in the case, some measly little clue, a slip of the tongue, or better yet a confession after years of pent-up guilt—maybe from Jonah.

 

Chapter 33

J
onah Wolfson called a little after 6:00 p.m. I met him at the department and led him to an interview room. “How's Laurel?” I asked.

“Groggy. Doc says her surgery went well. How's Hannah doing?”

“I just called down to ask. She's okay. I suggest you wait until visiting hours tomorrow to see her.”

He nodded. “Right now I'm so mad at her, I don't even want to talk to her. Am I doing the right thing here?”

“I believe so, yes, in these circumstances. Does Hannah do okay in school?”

“Not really. She was tested. She has a normal IQ, she's just lazy and difficult at home.”

“Do these problems run in the family?”

“Bipolar disorder runs on my side. Pretty sure I got it from my old man, only he doesn't take meds. I do. I was diagnosed fifteen years ago, after my release.”

“After you did time for domestic violence?”

“Yeah. I'm not proud of it. I hit my pregnant wife and swore to her it'd never happen again, and it hasn't.”

“Who took Laurel to the hospital the day you hurt her?”

“I never asked. I assume it was my mother-in-law.”

I shook my head. “No, it was Silver Rae Dawson.”

“Really? I didn't know that.” His look of surprise seemed genuine.

“But you knew they were friends.”

“She was about the only one who stayed friends with Laurel after we got married. A couple times she took care of Hannah when Laurel came to see me. I think she even cut school to do it. Laurel and I appreciated that.”

“Are you going back to the hospital?”

“Yeah, Mary Ann's watching the boys. I found somebody to cover my shift.”

I thanked him for coming in and led him back to the lobby.

 

 

Shannon's car was in the
garage
when I got home. I hesitantly walked into the kitchen. She was standing at the counter.

“We should talk,” I said.

She nodded.

“Shannon, I'm sorry about the embarrassing photo in the paper. It was an impulsive reaction to someone hurting—someone I once cared about.”

“You still do.”

“Not in the same way. Do you know how much I love you? Need you? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I miss your smile.”

She came to me and we embraced a few seconds, then she pulled away and held me at arm's length. She was crying. She grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears.

She said, “I'm sorry, too—for not trusting you. I had a long chat with Tamika. She told me she always knew you loved me, that we'd end up together.”

“She's right.”

“Let me finish. Adriana called to ask me if I'd seen the photo. She said she was crying at the time and you came up to her and put your hands on her face only for a couple seconds and told her to remember all the things she lost could be replaced and that straightened her right up. She said Troy was standing right there. She says she's happy we finally realized we were in love.”

Oh, right.
“Well, good.” I pulled her in for another hug. When she leaned up for a kiss I knew all was well again.

“
But
that's the last time I want to see a photo of you and Adriana together, especially on the fucking front page.”

“You got it, babe. Now, I need a shower. I'm hot and dirty.”

“Me too.”

I took her hand. “Come on, dirty girl, let's scrub you up, then I'll take you out for dinner.”

“We have reservations at Minnesota Fare,” she said.

“Works for me.”

 

 

We were seated
at a
table overlooking the falls when Shannon asked if I knew what we were celebrating. I scrambled to think of a benchmark . . . an anniversary of some sort? I said the only thing I could think of. “The Twinkies?”

“Oh, that's sweet, but no.”

“Are you going to keep me guessing? I'm sorry, babe. It could take all night.”

She gave me one of those wifely looks that says she's resigned to the fact all men are ignorant about the peculiarities of marriage expectations and conduct. I gave her my puzzled look to reassure her she was correct.

“We had our very first fight and made up,” she said.

“But you made the reservations before we made up.”

“I knew I could convince you with make-up sex.”

“True that.” I gave her a fist bump.

Just then, I noticed who was seated across the room. Shannon turned to see who I was staring at.

“Is that the Gage family?” she asked.

“Yes, minus Lillian. She's back in the hospital. I interviewed Sawyer for the third time today. He's the one with the hair. The bald guy is Parker.”

“Is the blonde the sister?”

“Yes, and the round-faced brunette is Parker's wife, Wendy.”

“Oh, look. Lucky and Cathy Holmgren just walked in. Wow, she's popping out. She must be seven months now.”

They walked toward us and stopped at our table.

“Congratulations, you two,” Cathy said. She picked up Shannon's hand and examined her diamond. “Wow, what a rock!” Cathy said.

“Thanks,” I said. I'd made sure it was twice the size of the one Evan gave her.

Shannon kicked me under the table.

What?
I asked her with a look of confusion.

“Did you find out the sex of your baby?” Shannon asked Cathy.

Cathy put her hand on her stomach. “This one is going to be a surprise. Well, I see Lucky's parents are already seated. It's their forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Enjoy your dinner!” Cathy said, as she walked away.

“We're celebrating our first make-up sex,” I said to Lucky.

He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. After they left, Shannon hit me in the arm. “Have you no filter?”

“I have a very big filter, thank you.”

“That kind of shit embarrasses me.”

“Sorry, I'll be better.”

“Will you?” she asked, looking skeptical.

“Probably not.”

 

 

Sawyer Gage got up
and
made his way to the restroom. Shortly after, Wendy followed. I bolted up, telling Shannon I needed to use the men's room. Wendy was about to enter the women's when I said, “Hey, Wendy.”

She stopped and turned. “Yes?” she said, but when she saw who it was, her smile dropped.

“Ever look up in your notebooks if the bouquets were brought home on a specific day on the month?”

She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was coming.

“You're right. He always gave me flowers around the twenty-sixth
of the month,” she said.

“That's the . . .”

“The day Parker and I were
engaged
.” She gave me a snotty look. “Oh . . . and you thought my husband would give
me
flowers on the anniversary of the day Silver disappeared? Sorry to disappoint.”

“My, that is quite a coincidence,” I said. “But why didn't you mention the significance of the date when I first talked to you?”

She tightened her mouth and turned to push open the ladies' room door.

I thought I might as well use the men's room while I was there. An elderly man was coming out so I grabbed the door and waited in the short hallway until he shuffled through. I stopped short of rounding the corner when I heard Lucky say, “So why were you talking to Sheehan today?”

A voice I recognized as Sawyer's said, “Don't worry. I didn't tell Deputy Dog squat, other than I'd done her that Fourth of July.”

Deputy Dog?

“You
told
him that?” Lucky asked.

“He figured it out anyway. Some asshole told him I'd given her a roofie. Thought if I came clean, it'd be the end of it.”

“Are you fucking stupid? It's not going to be the end of it until he figures out what happened to Silver.”

“He won't. Who the hell could?”

My heart banged in my chest. Both involved—those sons of bitches. I heard the sinks come on so I waited a few seconds before I moved in.

Sawyer saw me first. “Hey there, Deputy Sheehan,” he said too loudly—surely meant to warn Lucky.

Lucky froze for a split second before he pulled his hands from the water faucet, shook them once over the sink. He'd turned bright pink.

“Well, you two have a good night,” Gage said and walked out.

I watched Lucky air dry his hands. He smiled widely and said, “Did you order the walleye? It was written up as best in the state.”

“Yes, we both did.”

He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

“Well, enjoy your evening, Lucky.”

“You too,” he said.

I nodded and moved toward the urinal.
How do I handle this one?
My mind was whirling with options. On the way back to the table, I made a side trip to the Gage table. I put one knee down between Wendy and Parker. I looked up at Wendy. Her face was contorted in anticipation of what I was going to say.

I said, “You used past tense.”

“What are you talking about?”

I could feel the heat of the glares from the Gages.

“You said Parker
gave
you flowers on the twenty-sixth, not
gives
. Has he stopped bringing them to you?”

Her eyes darted between Parker and me.

“Uh . . . no, of course not.”

She was lying. The jerk had stopped bringing his wife flowers when Silver was found, and she'd figured it out. She may not have known why, but Wendy knew it was significant to the case, and now Parker understood I knew he'd placed flowers at the site. I turned to him. He was the color of his blush wine, his glass frozen between the table and his mouth. After I gave him a smile and a nod, I rose and told the Gages to enjoy their dinners. They didn't return my sentiment. I glanced at Lucky. He eyed me, as well. He gave he a half-hearted smile.

When seated, I glanced at the Gages. They were bent forward as people do when they don't want others nearby to hear what they're saying. Bentley Gage turned to glare at me. He looked like he wanted to kill me—I hope he didn't have a conceal/carry permit. Then Parker glanced back at me. I nodded at him. Even from this distance, I could see the terror in his eyes.

Shannon said, “Cal, answer my question. What was that about?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you.”

I told her what I'd learned. She touched my arm and whispered, “You need to interrogate them all tonight. Poor Cathy . . . she's not going to take this well.”

“You know what? Those three are not going anywhere soon, so let's enjoy our make-up sex meal.”

She rolled her eyes.