Mortal Fall (28 page)

“But,” she said, “I was bored with econ and marketing and I took a beginning forensics class on the side because I’d always been curious about it.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, and for a split second before looking down at her hands, it seemed to me that something sad or lonely swam into her eyes. “When I was young someone in my neighborhood was murdered. I remember riding my bike down the road and watching the
police work. I asked my mom a bunch of questions about it, but she said we shouldn’t talk about it. That just made me all the more curious. Anyway”—she threw her hair over her shoulder—“I ended up meeting a guy the summer after my last year of undergraduate studies and we got married. In part, we knew we were being hasty and marrying so we didn’t have to face breaking up. We also knew that I could then stay in the U.S., work and save up for graduate school.”

“Couldn’t you have gone home and taken forensics in Oslo?”

“I could have, but I didn’t want to.” She flicked her hand away from her. That look, like she was holding something back under her nonchalant expression, flashed again. “I left a complicated family life,” she said. “I didn’t have a burning desire to go back to it. Plus I like America, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Norway, but I liked America and I figured if I stayed in Seattle, got my degree, I would have options: Jim and I could stay or we could move to Norway.”

“And obviously you stayed.”

She smiled. “Jim was from this area, so we came out here. We gave it a try and the county was increasing their law enforcement program to include a forensics team. So here I am. I like it. There are parts of it that remind me of home: all the lakes and the endless woods full of pine, birch, hemlock, black hawthorns. Believe it or not, there are places in Norway equally remote. And sometimes the mentality is the same. There is the white supremacy, the fundamentalist attitudes, the sexism . . .”

“And what happened to you and Jim?”

“We didn’t make it. We tried for three years, but in the end, we knew we should never have gotten married. It was fairly amicable.”

I smiled. I felt a dull throbbing pain through my post-bar-fight numbness and Advil consumption, and thought of Lara and the distance we’d inserted between us. I wondered if we could bridge the chasm and if not and we divorced, could we remain friends. I guess you could call us amicable, but I could sense it was hanging on only by
a thread, and there was something about that notion, something about the thought of letting go of my connection to her and her family that frightened me.

Gretchen and I continued to talk until I began to doze off on the couch. I was vaguely aware of her getting up and slipping out the front door sometime after midnight.

30

W
ITH A BLAZING
headache, a sore neck, and a swollen eye that was soon to turn bruised and ugly, I spent the day chasing information on both victims, Martin Dorian, my brother, and poaching rings in the area. I called Shane Albertson and filled him in on the situation with Dorian, just to keep him apprised and to see if he had any additional information on him. I asked him if he knew who Dorian’s girl, Tammy, was, but he said he didn’t. I would need to talk to Adam soon, but I needed more information before approaching him.

While Ken went to find Melissa to check on Dorian’s alibi, I went to see Dr. Raymond Kaufland, the other vet who sometimes went with Wolfie to implant the transmitters into the wolverines and found more of the same—that Wolfie was a passionate, determined professional researcher. Kaufland had gone with him numerous times to trap sites in the park to perform implants and had attended one in the South Fork region. Thankfully, he had told me, that one was not rigged and he was able to successfully make the implant. He knew nothing of Martin Dorian and no other names, just that Wolfie had mentioned he’d had some troubles with the local trappers.

I, of course, also chased any information I could on Mark Phillips. I spoke to fellow cartographers in his office, workers at the health club he attended (not that Ken didn’t do a good job at the club; I just wanted more), and even waiters and waitresses at some of his favorite restaurants that Beverly Lynde had told us about.

Eventually, I found myself on the phone calling the previous owners
of Glacier Academy. They now lived in Acadia, California, after moving from the Flathead Valley to Oregon, and were trying their hand at running a tree farm in the area instead of a residential treatment center. Mr. Leefeldt came to the phone in good spirits until I told him who I was, where I was calling from, and that my call related to some individuals he used to employ at the academy he and his wife used to run outside Glacier Park. He got very quiet and when I repeated his name several times to ask him if he was still on the line, he said: “I don’t need to answer any more questions about that place. Understand? I’ve already been through it all.”

Again, I felt a prick of guilt ping through me at the thought of Adam attending during that time. “Look, Mr. Leefeldt,” I assured him. “This has nothing to do with the lawsuits from years back. I’m simply inquiring about several employees who worked for you then because one of them has died in Glacier and it’s a matter of course to investigate all falls in our park.”

“Who died?”

“A man named Mark Phillips.”

Leefeldt fell quiet again. I could hear a female voice in the background. “Not now,” he said to that person, his voice falling away from the receiver. “So what does that have to do with the academy?”

“Like I said—it’s a matter of routine investigation and I’m just trying to locate some people that Mr. Phillips hung out with back then.”

“I have no idea who Phillips
hung out
with back then and as far as I’m concerned, if he fell in the park, serves him right. If it weren’t for him, probably wouldn’t have gotten into all that nonsense in the first place.”

“Nonsense?”

“Forget it. Like I said, my wife and I, we’re done talking about that chapter.”

“Mr. Leefeldt,” I said firmly. “I’m just wondering if you know a woman named Diane who used to work for you? I simply need her last name.”

He didn’t respond.

“Mr. Leefeldt,” I said again. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’m still here. Hold on.” He must have covered the phone with his hand because a muffled sound took over, and the voices on the other end sounded like they were under water. I waited, turning my Glacier Park coffee mug round and round. Finally, he returned: “Rieger. Diane Rieger. That’s what my wife says her name was. Now, please leave us alone.”

“Wait,” I said. “Just one more thing. You said that if it wasn’t for Phillips, you wouldn’t have gotten into such nonsense. What did Phillips do?”

“Never mind. Like I said. We’re over it.” He hung up the phone.

• • •

Lara unexpectedly showed up at my office. I’d had trouble sleeping the night before thinking about how I was going to approach her about Adam. She knocked softly on the door and came in smiling while Ken and I were going over Dorian’s alibis. Ken had found Melissa at her bar around eleven when she showed up for work and confirmed that Dorian was with her the majority of the evening on the twenty-second. Ken was also able to get Tammy’s last name from Melissa easily—DeWitt. Tammy DeWitt.

“One of the guys with Dorian at the bar was DeWitt. Darryl DeWitt.” I pulled out my notepad and double-checked. “Must be her brother or a cousin,” I said just as Lara walked in. She greeted Ken first without even looking at me, and asked about his little boy, Chase.

“Oh, you know,” Ken said, “he’s getting into everything and keeping Val and me on our toes.”

“I can imagine.” Lara smiled. She was wearing dress pants and a colorful blouse, and I figured she’d probably been at work most of the morning. Over the years, Lara had worked her way up to managing the entire accounting department for the hospital, the largest employer in the Flathead Valley.

“So what brings you here?” I tapped my pen on the desk, and she turned to me and took in my face.

“Monty, oh my God, what happened to your eye?”

“Hazards of the job,” I said.

“What? Someone assaulted you?”

“Pretty much.” I stood up. “I’ll fill you in some other time.”

Ken lifted his shoulders to his ears to say, don’t ask me. He apparently knew better than to get in the middle of a separated couple.

“So what’s up?” I asked again to change the subject.

“I just wanted to go over some things with you.” Her face was serious now, still examining my eye. “Have you put some ice on it?”

“I have. And taken lots of Advil.”

She nodded, then continued. “I just wanted to make sure we’re all lined up for”—she bit her lower lip—“you know, all set for the party.”

I nodded slowly, then looked at Ken, who was watching us both. I set my pen down. “I’ll walk you to your car and we can talk. I need some fresh air anyway.”

“I’ve been to Costco several times. I have all the coolers and I was able to get a good deal on a new grill there too.” She rattled off the details as we walked down the hall to the exit. “As you know, the party starts at three, and I know there’s going to be at least fifty to sixty people. We’ve hired a caterer to do all the food and have a band and everything else lined up. Are you going to be able to make it?”

I didn’t answer as we stepped outside. The air felt hot and slightly oppressive—unusual for Glacier. “I’d love it if you could come early, say around two, so we’re both there when everyone starts arriving. And that eye of yours, well, it’ll be a good conversation piece, I’m sure. Maybe a little concealer would help.” She winced.

I was still holding my pen as we stepped outside. I slid it into my pocket and pictured Lara’s huge family. With all her brothers and sisters now married with numerous children, it had become bigger than I could fathom. She had aunts and uncles, mostly from Butte, Montana,
who were all probably driving in Saturday morning. And some were flying in the night before from various places—one of her brothers’ family from San Francisco, another from Tucson, and a sister’s gang from Santa Fe.

“It’s supposed to be nice, clear skies, upper eighties to low nineties. I’ve already got two large white tents that we’ve rented set up, so we’ll have shade. And if we get any late-afternoon rain, a place to go. We’ll probably need to take them down the next morning, okay?” She looked up at the sky, slightly hazy from distant fires. “I wish it was a little clearer, but it is what it is. I hear there are fires in Idaho.”

“Washington,” I said. I had read the paper when I first got to work.

“Oh, well, whatever. So did you hear what I asked you? Are you going to be able to make it at two?”

I paused, turning to face her. “Why did you tell Adam about the reunion?”

“What?” she looked from the sky to me. “
What
?”

“You know the kind of terms he and I are on and here you’re trying to get me to come and put up false pretenses in front of your family and you invite him? What makes you think that helps your efforts, Lara?”

“Monty, get real. I didn’t,
wouldn’t
invite Adam to the reunion. Why on earth would I do that?”

“I don’t know, but why
on earth
would he even know about it?”

She looked at me, I could practically see her eyes flickering with thoughts, possible rationales. “Look, it was nothing. An accident. I ran into him and I was nervous and frazzled, trying to do a million things for this party and it slipped out. You know I talk too much when I get nervous.”

Lara barely even knew Adam, mainly because I kept it that way. She met him only twice when we dated when I brought her to meet my mom and dad at the house. Adam had been like an annoying fly, showing up both times and I figured one of my parents must have mentioned to him that we were stopping in. He was pleasant to her,
though, and I had a hard time getting her to square the brother I’d told her about with the pleasant one greeting her with a wide smile and offering her coffee, tea, or some other drink.

It wasn’t until she saw him tackle me at the funeral reception that she admitted being shocked by his behavior. I told her how he had always been unstable and unpredictable, but coming from a family that would never act in such a way, she had made excuses for him, had said that it was only the pressure of losing my mom that had made him snap. I didn’t argue with her, but continued to keep the promise to myself to stay good and clear from my brother.

I stared at her, not moving, my arms still by my sides. She did talk when she got nervous, and she’d do the same now if I waited it out.

She pressed her lips together tightly and crossed her arms in front of her. “That’s all, Monty. It was a mistake. It just came out over a bunch of groceries.”

“That’s all?” My pulse was beginning to pound. Something about Adam and Lara having Lord-knows-what discussions about our separation made my blood boil.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, I mean, he’s your brother. It’s not like I can just ignore him. I’ve never stooped to that, Monty. What’s the big deal anyway?”

“What the big deal? Are you serious, Lara? So after years of marriage to me, you don’t know whether that’s a big deal or not that my brother thinks he’s invited?”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. Not in a normal family. But I told you, he’s not coming to the reunion.”

“
Normal
family?
Normal
? Normal is not going to your family’s reunion and pretending you’re still happily married to your husband.”

“Look, he’s not coming,” she said again.

“He said he was.”

“Well, he must have misunderstood, or he’s messing with you. Like I said, I just mentioned it to him. Ran into him at Costco and that’s that.”

“Look, Lara. I don’t want to come to this reunion. I know it’s important to you, but I’m really busy here and I—”

“Oh, Monty, please don’t say that. Please don’t. You can’t back out, not now. You said you’d do it.”

“No.” I was shaking my head, “I never said that.” One year ago, I would have done anything she asked just to keep the peace, to keep it together. But recently, I’d been getting tired of being strung along with no sense of what she really wanted from me at this point, except acquiescing to the one thing I didn’t feel I could do—having a child. I refused to put a child through the kind of things my mother went through. But I felt for Lara. I really did. I understood her pain. She was bitten by the bug to start a family, and I felt horrible denying her the right to give children the very thing she grew up with—brothers, sisters, pets, laughter . . . and more importantly, stable parents.