Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 02 - Love Can Be Murder (11 page)

Jo studied the dead journalist’s face. She noticed some discoloration on the side of the neck, away from the shotgun blast. “What’s that?”

The ME gently turned the head toward them and studied the marks on the side of the neck. “Haven’t figured that out yet. Could be strangulation marks.”

Frisco said, “Why choke the victim if you are just going to shoot her?”

Jo looked closer. “Could it be that the killer was trying to force the victim to open her mouth? See, there are some bruises on the upper lip and jaw line, too.”

The ME carefully pried open what was left of the mouth. She flashed a narrow beam of light from her flashlight down into the mouth. “Looks like a piece of paper was shoved down her throat. Hand me those tweezers, will you?”

Frisco handed her the instrument from the medical kit. Carefully feeding the tweezers into the mouth, she pulled out a long, narrow piece of paper. There were smeared letters on the surface.

Frisco leaned closer, “What’s it say? Something like, ‘marriage bed’ and ‘God will judge’ something, something. Can you guys make out anything else?”

Jo squinted, “It says, ‘Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.’ It’s from Hebrews. McDonald frequently quoted it in her column.”

Frisco scratched his chin, “So the killer made McDonald literally eat her words. But what the hell has that got to do with our other case? Any idea?”

Jo said, “I’m not sure. But the killer seems to be focusing on adultery. Wonder what the relationship was between our two vics?”

Frisco raised an eyebrow and said, “You think they were having an affair?”

“Worth checking into. He certainly wouldn’t be the first politician to come across as the perfect family man while having a little something on the side. If that’s the case, we need to circle back to Freemont’s widow. An affair would give her motive.”

Jo pointed at the body of Annie McDonald. “What about her? Was she married? If so, we need to check out the alibi of her husband, too.”

The detective consulted his notes. “Nope. Her co-workers say she never married.”

Jo turned toward the ME. “Find a note like this in the mouth of State Rep. Freemont?”

Carole shook her head. “No, at least not so far. But I haven’t started the autopsy yet. Maybe something will turn up there.”

Chapter Fifteen

Turners Bend

Late October

Chip sat in his car outside Jane’s veterinary clinic with Callie zipped inside of his down parka. She was warming his heart in more ways than one. On an intellectual level he knew spaying her was the responsible thing for a pet owner to do. But, on an emotional level, he could not bear the image of her going under the knife. Yes, she was a just a stray cat, but she was his stray cat, his baby.

“Sorry, puss,” he said as he entered the reception area and deposited the kitten into Mabel’s hands. “Please don’t hold this against me, Callie.

“Mabel, I’ll be working over at the Bijou, if I’m needed. I’ll come by later to make sure she’s okay. Is Jane here yet?”

At the mention of her name, Jane came through the front door. She was dressed in knee-high Wellies and a long rubber coat. “Just delivered a calf out at the Jensen place,” she explained. “She was breach, so I’m kind of a mess. Oh for Pete’s sake, what’s wrong with you, Chip? You look like you’ve brought your precious child to be sacrificed. Millions of cats are spayed every day in this country. Relax, she’ll be just fine.”

“I know … it’s just that I hate to see her in any pain.”

Jane removed her coat and boots and took Callie from Mabel. “I’ll call you with a report later today. Oh, by the way, are you going to Lance’s barn dance on Saturday? He’s decided to make it a fundraiser for the Bijou, so you really should be there.”

“I’ll think about it,” answered Chip.

“I just can’t believe your floozy agent is staying in town to help Lance. She obviously has her sights on him, and there’s no way he could honestly be interested in her.”

“Yes, well, I’ll probably show up for part of the party,” he said, skirting her remark. He abruptly turned and left the clinic with Jane’s words spinning in his head.
Jane usually is not one to speak disparagingly of others. Is she jealous of Lucinda? Are both women lusting after this guy?

He got in his car and started the engine and let it idle while he tried to process the situation.
Is Lance leading both of them on? What does Sir Lancelot have that I don’t?

He pulled out onto Main Street and headed for home, so distracted that he almost failed to stop at Turners Bend’s only stop light. He wondered if he would he end up like King Arthur and lose his ladylove to this knight in shining armor.

Halfway home he remembered he had planned to go to the Bijou. He made a U-turn and headed back to town.

This love life stuff is killing me.

* * *

The Bijou project had resumed and a few volunteers showed up every day to work. The goal was to finish by spring and to have a grand re-opening with
The Cranium Killer
movie. The president of the Historical Society, Sylvia Johnson, had already donated a red carpet runner for the gala event. The broken glass in the ticket booth and poster cases had been replaced and new upholstery had been ordered for the seats. Several retired farmers had started to replace the stage floorboards under the guidance of the high school shop teacher. A magical pied piper had lured the mice away, as well as exterminated a few other unwelcome squatters.

Lance had taken on the repair and restoration of the marquee as his personal project. He had studied old photos, drawn up sketches and blueprints and started replacing all the sockets for the lights. He was a man of many mechanical talents.

As Chip walked into the lobby, there he was … his nemesis … working away. “I didn’t expect you today, Lance. I thought you would be getting ready for the barn dance.”

“Well, Lucinda has taken charge. I thought I might just finish the marquee today since I had to come into town anyway to order the booze over at the Bend. What would we do without these women? I have to tell you, I never thought I would come to Turners Bend and find the woman of my dreams.”

Chip had no idea if Lance was talking about Jane or Lucinda. He had a hard time believing it was Lucinda, but he prayed it was her and not Jane. Just as he was trying to figure out how to tactfully get at the dream woman’s true identity, Chief Fredrickson walked into the Bijou with a grim look on his face.

“I hoped I might find you here. I wonder if you could come over to the station and have a look at something, Chip.”

“Sure, what is it? Is it something to do with the murder?”

“Don’t know. Thought you might have a clue about something I got in the mail.”

Chip and the chief silently walked over to the police station, each deep in thought.

As they entered the station, Sharon barked. “Don’t even ask me about my day, ‘cuz it’s horse shit. Oh sorry, Chief, my day got off to a bad start.”

The chief motioned Chip into his office and closed the door.

“What’s with Sharon?”

“Robert’s mother moved in with them. I take it there is no love lost between the two women.”

The chief sorted through papers on his desk and held up an envelope. “I got this in the mail yesterday. No explanation and no return address. Postmark says it was mailed from Ames. My gut tells me it has something to do with the body we found. What do you make of it?”

Chip unfolded the piece of paper. On one side there was a printed form and on the other side was a strange drawing done in black grease pencil. It was a crudely drawn rectangle marked with five X’s inside.

Chip looked at the diagram and then turned it over. “What’s this form?”

“From what I can tell, it’s some kind of order or delivery form for raw milk. The company name has been torn off. As far as the diagram on the back, I haven’t the vaguest idea. It was addressed to me personally. I’ve sent Jim to get copies of forms from all the milk processors, but each of them probably services hundreds of dairy farmers.”

“I’m as clueless as you, Chief. May I have a copy to take home?”

“Sure, I’ll have Sharon make one for you.”

* * *

Chip took a copy of the diagram home and posted it on his refrigerator. His mind wandered to clues … clues to crimes. The killer in
Mind Games
was leaving clues, clues on paper stuffed into victims. Writing a trail of clues would be his next task.

Chapter Sixteen

Mind Games

St. Paul & Minneapolis, Minnesota

Late July

This time, when Jo and Frisco stopped in to see Freemont’s widow, they were immediately admitted to a spacious family room. A large plasma TV was mounted above the ornate fireplace and the volume was muted.

Tanya rose to greet them and said, “I’ve just seen the news report about Annie’s death. How horrible! They’re saying her murder is tied to my husband’s? What’s going on?”

Jo glanced at Frisco, who looked surprised. “So, you know Ms. McDonald personally?” he said.

“Why, yes. She went to college with Lee and I. She is … was a dear friend.” The woman’s voice broke on the last word.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I apologize for my bluntness, but is there any chance your husband and Ms. McDonald were having an affair?” Jo asked.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Tanya Freemont. Her words were clipped when she replied, “No. Absolutely not. Annie was gay. She and Lee were very close, like best friends. It was Annie who convinced Lee to go into politics in the first place.”

Frisco spoke up. “Mrs. Freemont, could your husband have had a recent affair?”

She furrowed her brow. “I am not a fool, detective. I know affairs happen on campaign trails all the time. Just look at John Edwards, when he ran for president a few years back. However, to the best of my knowledge, my husband was faithful to me.” She paused, and then said, “Why do you keep asking me about affairs? Has there been a break in the case?”

Jo shook her head and said, “We have found a puzzling clue, which refers to adultery. I’m not at liberty to say anything more at the moment.”

“What
can
you tell me?”

Jo frowned. “At the moment, nothing much. Except to say we feel there may be a connection between the cases. We will be in touch.”

Frisco and Jo had turned to leave, when Jo heard Tanya Freemont mutter, “First, Lee. Now, Annie. How much can I bear?”

* * *

After they left the Reynold’s mansion, Frisco said, “It’s been a long day already and I’m starving. Let’s grab a bite. Know of a good burger joint?” Jo had smiled and driven them to the 5-8 Club.

The waitress set down a pair of Juicy Lucy burgers and French fries in front of them. As she left the bill, she warned, “Be careful. The cheese in these is crazy hot. Anything else I can get you folks?”

Frisco looked up at Jo with a raised eyebrow and she said, “No, thanks. These look great.”

Across the booth, Frisco carefully bit into his blue-cheese burger. He closed his eyes, and groaned, savoring the double burger patty with melted cheese inside. Wiping a bit of juice from his chin, he said, “These are fantastic. How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a Twin Cities institution. It used to be a speak-easy during Prohibition, can you believe it? Both Matt’s up the street and this place claim to have been the first to come up with the idea of Juicy Lucys, but I prefer the history of the 5-8 Club. Besides, it’s not far from the Minnehaha trail and Lake Nokomis, so sometimes I treat myself to a burger after a long bike ride.”

Her first bite was tasteless. She knew it had nothing to do with the quality of her burger. Jo set the sandwich back on the plate and checked her phone again under the table.

Frisco took another, bigger bite of his sandwich and said, “He call back yet?”

Jo was surprised the detective knew what was on her mind, but didn’t bother to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.
So much for being subtle.

She fidgeted with the napkin in her lap and after a moment, she quietly replied, “No. He hasn’t.”

Frisco nodded at her across the table. “He will. He’s crazy about you and the Doc’s no fool. He just needs time to process. Like you, I expect.”

The bright sunshine outside made her squint as Jo looked out the restaurant window. “I know. But I also know this long-distance thing doesn’t work.” She felt the tears building behind her eyelids and blinked.

“You know, when Katie got the job offer here, we fought like crazy. I didn’t want to give up my seniority at the Duluth cop shop. She said it was her turn for moving up. Said she was taking this job, no matter what. Scared the shit out of me, if you want to know the truth.”

Frisco reached across the table for the salt shaker, and gave his order of fries a coating of salt. “When I came to my senses, which took all of twenty seconds, by the way, I realized nothing meant more to me than my family.” He pulled his jacket aside with a salt-encrusted finger, revealing his detective’s badge. “I love this badge, don’t get me wrong.”

Frisco reached for a fry and waved it like a musical conductor’s baton to make his point. “But my job exists to support what I love the most in this world, not the other way ‘round.” He shoved the fry into his mouth.

After he swallowed, he pointed to Jo and said, “So, you gotta decide what you love just a little less. The doc or your job. It doesn’t get any simpler than that.”

“So, you think I should move to Baltimore?” Jo asked. The thought made her stomach flip, but at least it replaced the queasiness that had resided there since she and John decided to call things off.

“I didn’t say that.” His gray eyes bored into hers. “Only you can decide that. But, if this relationship with him is as big a deal as I think it is, you owe it another look. Is he worth the fight?”