Chapter 15
“ Y ou seem to be spending a lot of time around the mall these days.” Junior leaned on a shovel as Michelle passed the center corridor.
“It is the shopping season, after all.” That reminded her, she still had a few gifts to pick up.
“Any luck on that sleigh?” He moved closer. His expression guarded. “I know my father is sweating bullets. Jolley, too.”
“I’m working on it.” No need to let him know that Nick was as well. “Have you heard anything from Cliff Garmen yet?”
“Nope.” He scooped some snow for good measure, but he didn’t seem in a rush to clear the fresh accumulation.
Michelle dropped her gaze to his hands. No paint on the gloves. Not that it meant he didn’t do it. Was he petty enough to vandalize her house? Yes, but why now?
She’d checked his records after running into him the other day. He’d been out of prison for over a year, kept his parole officer appointments. Not even a parking ticket. Sure, he’d given her attitude, but she had been in his office without an appointment.
“Do you have regular day shift hours?” She watched him for any signs of deception.
He scowled .
Just when she started to wonder if he’d answer, he dropped his stare and went back to shoveling as he spoke. “Mostly, but from Halloween to New Year’s, we all have overtime.”
“How late do you work?”
He stopped and squinted at her. “What are you getting at? Just spit it out.”
“Where were you the night before last?”
“I worked until ten, then I swung by Trudy’s.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
“Trudy. Before, I was on the clock. People were around, but they don’t notice maintenance people. It’s like we don’t exist.”
He had a point. She made a mental note to have Nick check the cameras. “Cops have the opposite problem. Everyone sees us.”
He cracked a smile. “Not always, or we wouldn’t ever get caught.”
“Good point.” She nodded her goodbye and continued down the corridor to Nick’s office.
She rapped on the door then pushed it open.
“Good morning,” Nick’s rumble touched deep.
Her stride stammered. Yes, she vowed to herself, it wouldn’t be awkward when she saw him today. But she hadn’t counted on her heart tripping at the sight of him. All the yummy details of last night rushed back to her.
“Hello.” Was that breathy sound from her?
A sneaky smile flashed on his handsome face.
Crap. It was. She cleared her throat. Don’t engage. Focus on work. “Could I see the video from two nights ago?”
“Sure. Did you find something?” He sat up straighter as he clicked the keys on his keyboard.
“It might be nothing, but I want to check Junior’s activity.”
“You think he might be the vandal? ”
“I’m not sure. I just need to dot my ‘Is’ and cross my ‘Ts.’”
“What time would you like to start with?”
“I got home about ten? So let’s look for him around then and track backward.”
Nick nodded and got to work. “Here. I have him on the premises at nine-forty.”
She leaned in to follow Junior’s image as Nick switched from camera to camera. They tracked him from job to job back to six-forty. “Where is he going there with the tool bag?”
“To his car.” He switched to yet another camera, and it showed Junior getting out of his vehicle and further back to him, driving into the lot.
“Man, you really do have this place locked down with surveillance.”
“You’d be surprised what we catch on video. Kids sneak off to a dark corner and think no one sees them.”
Like in a sleigh in the storage room? The question almost slipping out. But from the look on his face, Nick was thinking the same thing.
“Thank God they didn’t have all the high-tech security when we were young. My dad would have arrested you on the spot.”
“I would have been more worried about your mother. Irene would have shot me.”
“Mom always liked you. You might have gotten a frypan to the head, but she would have made your favorite cookies afterward.”
“I’ve always loved Irene. Your mom is the best.”
He spent a lot of time at the Swenson house, between his mom’s work schedule and then after the accident. A heavy weight blanketed her chest at the memory. She pushed it off and turned to the screen. “Can we find out when he left?”
Nick scrolled back through the video.
“There. Five-forty-five.” Her brows crunched. “Dinner break? ”
Nick scrolled forward to the part where Junior exited his car. “He has a white bag. He throws it in the trash as he walks toward the mall.”
“Can you zoom in? It looks like fast food. Who takes almost an hour to go through a drive thru?”
Nick blew up the image until they could see the yellow arch on the bag. He turned his gaze to her.
“Thanks.”
“So, with Jonny Staniski dead and Cliff Garmen in the wind, are you thinking Junior could have something to do with it?” Nick didn’t give his opinion, just watched her.
Michelle shrugged. She needed to go through all the evidence with Jim, figure out if the vandalism was attached to it, and if Nick’s father’s hit-and-run tied in. “I’m not sure. He had the opportunity. It’s dark by that time of evening, so my neighbors might not have seen him.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know, but I can’t take him off the list.”
She needed to see if he had red paint. He most likely did, as a maintenance guy at the mall.
“And do it all in a week so we can get the sleigh back by the festival. That reminds me I have to go pick up my father today. They’re releasing him from the hospital.” Nick’s broad shoulders slumped.
She almost asked if he had a backup Santa plan. Knowing Nick, he did, but from the stressed look on his face, it wasn’t a good one. Instead, she changed the subject. “How’s he doing? Does he need someone to stay with him?”
“I’ll find out all the particulars when I get there. He may be moving in with us for a few days until he’s back on his feet.”
“Have you found someone else to play Santa?” So much for avoiding the subject.
Nick ran his hand through his hair. “All the local Santas that come from the agencies are booked. I have an ad running in the paper and on social media, but it’s not looking like any takers… at least none that don’t smell like they’ve downed a fifth of booze. Let’s just say, no one’s lap I want my kid sitting on.”
Michelle eyed him up and down. “Well, you could always have a little padding and a beard.”
His brows flattened. “You know my feelings on Santa. It was bad enough being Santa’s kid my whole life. Remember ninth grade?”
She chuckled. She and Nick played elves when a couple of the mall employees came down with mono. “You looked good in tights.”
He growled.
Playing Santa was the last thing Nick would do. But if he didn't have another choice… would he? She didn't know, but by the color of his face, she wouldn’t push the issue. “Well, it’s time I start running down these leads on the paint. Also, I need to go back to Trudy’s. Junior said he was there after work. Maybe I can bump into some of Cliff’s buddies and see if I can find out more information.”
“Why don’t you wait until after work? I’ll get Dad home and situated, see if one of the neighbors can keep an eye on him, and I’ll go with you.”
He was so transparent. “I do not need a babysitter. I can take care of myself.” She pointed to her badge and gun.
“Point taken, but I still don’t think you should go to Trudy’s alone.”
She rolled her eyes. “I got work to do. I will let you know what I find out.” Michelle stood to leave.
“Here, I made you a copy in case you need it.”
“Thanks.” She took the flash drive, not meeting his eyes. She didn’t look back. If she did, she’d definitely be late for work.
** *
Michelle watched the snow fall in her headlights. The sun had set a good twenty minutes ago. The standard rush-hour traffic slowed to a crawl. She had twenty more minutes on her shift, assuming she didn’t get a call. She turned toward the station. Maybe she could get the paperwork done before she headed home.
Ten minutes later, she pulled into the police station. The lot was full, as it was the end of shift. Half the vehicles would be going back out. Fridays were always busy, even in the small suburb.
Inside, she searched for her brother, no Jim, but Jordan was in his office. She popped her head in the open door. “Busy?”
“Never too busy for you. What’s up?” He set his pen down and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Jordan may have been Jim’s twin, but the two were like night and day. Jordan was meant to be brass. He didn’t mind the extra paperwork. Jim was good at his job, but it was the puzzle of the case that excited him.
Then there was Michelle. She loved being on the street. These were her people. And while she had paperwork, when the case was processed, she handed it off. On to the next, until now. “Not much. Just saw you were still here.”
“How’s the Santa case coming?”
She was willing to bet he had read all the case notes. “It’s going.”
His chin dipped, and he waited.
She hated when he did that. Blowing out a breath, she realized this was why she’d come into his office. “Jim’s not here and…”
“You need to bounce a theory off someone?”
“Yes. I will send him an email but… I don’t know if I’m grabbing at straws or if this stuff is connected.” She filled him in on everything from Jonny and Cliff, to Russ Jolley’s accident, to her garage paint.
“What’s your gut saying? ”
“You could have been a psychologist with all the questions, you know that?”
“Liz said the same thing.” He grinned. Their sister-in-law would know.
“My gut’s saying it would be a big coincidence if they weren’t. And my gut has opinions about swinging by Pete’s for a burger.”
“Agreed. Now follow the evidence, and see if there is a thread connecting them.”
“Thanks.” She stood to leave.
“Mickey.”
She paused.
“Remember, look for the threads, but keep an open mind to other prospects.”
Yeah, she always did, and that made her job as clear as mud. She nodded and went to finish her paperwork. The sooner it was done, she could go home, change, and head over to Trudy’s and look for the next piece of the puzzle.
She had told Nick she couldn’t wait until after work to go to the bar, but that was because she didn’t want him tagging along. He totally gave off big, scary military vibes with his intense glares.
Time to change into civilian clothes and see what she could find out.
She waved to her neighbors, who were out shoveling the fresh dusting. The weather predicted another three to four inches tonight. Perfect for a white Christmas.
Michelle pulled into her driveway. Her headlights lit the garage door. The red slur was gone. She’d have to send Jenkins a case of beer to thank him. His guy worked fast.
She slammed her car door, trudged through the snow, down the sidewalk, and waved at her neighbor. “Hey, Corey. ”
“Michelle, it looks like you had a little trouble this week.” Corey’s husband was the neighborhood busy-body. If anyone had knowledge of the crime, it would be Corey and Ray.
“Yeah, the downside of being a police officer. We make a few enemies.” She glanced at the now clean garage door. “About that… You didn’t happen to see anything that night, did you?”
“No, Ray and I were out for dinner and when we came back, it was freezing. We just hustled inside, and didn’t even look at it.”
Shoot. The one time she needed them to be in the know, they weren’t. “Did you by chance see anyone else on the street?”
“I saw Dave when we were driving out.” He gestured to the house across the street. “We were a block down. He waved as we passed him. You might want to check with him and see if he saw anything.”
“Will do. Thanks. You have a good night.” Michelle crossed to Dave’s house and rang the bell.
The door opened. The tiny Asian woman smiled. “Officer Swenson. Just in time for dinner.”
“Thanks, Mama Hao, but I can’t stay tonight.”
“You got a hot date?” She wiggled her brows at Michelle.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Well, my grandson is still single. He has a good job, too.”
Michelle bit back a laugh. Mama Hao was always trying to fix Michelle’s life. She was as bad as Michelle’s own mother. “I think he’s a little young for me. Is Dave around? I need to talk to him?”
“Dave.” Mama Hao turned toward the back of the house and hollered.
One one-thousand, two one-thousand. Mama Hao yelled again, but this time in Mandarin. Michelle dropped her chin and bit her cheek.
She turned back to Michelle and waved her in with her hand. “Come in, come in. He’s coming. ”
Michelle stepped in, careful to stay on the rug with her boots. The smell of something delicious came wafting in from the back of the house. Mama really was a good cook. They invited Michelle over for barbecues in the summer and occasionally brought her leftovers. She had good neighbors.
Dave came down the hall. He slipped his phone in his pocket and smiled at her. “Michelle, how are you doing?”
His daughter ran up and tugged on his pants. “Mama said to set another plate on the table.”
She was about Ava’s age. Michelle wondered if they knew each other. “Thanks, Susie. Please tell your mother that I can’t stay tonight.”
Mama Hao huffed, and then followed her granddaughter down the hall.
No doubt, Michelle would have to make time for dinner with their family soon. She returned her attention to Dave.
“I just had a question. Corey said he saw you the same night I had the issue with my garage door. Did you happen to see anything?”
“Oh yeah, I saw that when I came back. Man, that was bad. I had to cover the little one’s eyes, so she didn’t see the words.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries. I know she hears worse on the school bus. I didn’t want her to see it here,” he whispered. “I can’t say I saw any people out on the street, but there was a strange vehicle parked in front of your house.”
“Can you describe it?”
“Oh, you know me. I’m a computer guy. I don’t know my cars, but it was a light-colored truck. I couldn’t tell you much about it. They all look the same to me.”
“You didn’t happen to catch a license plate or any logos on it, did you? ”
“It was getting dark. I don’t remember anything. I definitely didn’t get the plate. There might have been something on the side, but I didn’t get a good look at it. Sorry, I guess I’m not much help.”
“No, Dave, that’s great, thanks. If you remember anything else, shoot me a text. I’d appreciate it.” Michelle waved goodbye to grandma and Dave’s wife, who poked their heads around the corner from the kitchen before she slipped out the door.
Light-colored truck. Hmm... Like a builder’s truck? Or a maintenance guy’s truck? Although she already knew that Junior didn’t drive a truck, she’d have to check and see what Garmen drove.
At home, Michelle was greeted with a big meow. Charlie ambled over and rubbed against her leg.
“Hey, Chuck. Everything quiet today?” She hung her hat and coat on the rack by the door, set her gun on the table, and put fresh food and water in his bowls.
Her eyes strayed to the couch. The last thing she wanted to do was go to a dive bar and look for a guy who was probably dead. She groaned. Friday night crowds. It could be a good thing or bad. More patrons meant the likelihood of a few of them knowing Cliff.
She dragged herself up the stairs, decided to skip the shower. A hard day’s sweat would smell better than anything in Trudy’s. She slipped on her jeans and an old band tee. Grabbed her taser, slipped it into her ankle holster, and made her way down to the kitchen.
“Protect the house,” she said to the cat as she slipped her gun into her waistband and grabbed her coat.
As she drove across town, Michelle replayed the events of the case in her mind. Jonny and Cliff picked up the sleigh from the welding shop. They didn’t take it back to the mall, so where did they store it for a weekend before it and Jonny turned up in the alley ?
And where was Cliff? On the run? She wouldn’t know until she found him. She just hoped he wasn’t at the bottom of the Minnesota River.
She stopped for a light and tapped her gloved fingers on the steering wheel. And how was Russ Jolley’s accident involved? Or was it? Same with the vandalism. It could be some teenager she busted for smoking pot behind the bleachers.
But her gut didn’t believe it. It whispered that HighTower Development was involved. Directly or indirectly, she didn’t know. But if she were a betting woman, she’d bet her favorite taser, the one with the extra range and full muscle lock-up, they were. God, she loved that weapon. It could stop a bull.
She found a parking spot in the back and checked the concealment of her weapons. The last thing she wanted was for her presence to scream cop, but she didn’t go anywhere without them. Holstering up was as much a part of her morning routine as putting on her bra and underwear. With everything contained, she got out, and clicked the lock.
As usual, her head was on a swivel as she crossed the parking lot to the entrance.
One foot inside the door, Michelle was glad she hadn’t wasted time showering and doing her hair. The smell of stale cigarettes and other smokables hung in the air, not that she saw anyone lighting up. The Minnesota Clean Indoor Air Act prohibiting smoking in public establishments had been in effect for well over a decade now.
Knowing the customers of Trudy’s and the haze of smoke by the overflowing cement ashtray outside, Michelle would bet the smell had been baked into each piece of clothing in the bar.
She weaved around high tops and slipped into one of the last open seats at the bar. Trudy was at the other end, chatting with the men who were here the other day. Michelle had just slipped a cheek off the stool to go see if either of them had any new information when another bartender, a middle-aged woman with long red nails and leathered skin, stopped in front of her.
If Michelle had to guess, she’d bet the bleached blonde had spent a fair amount of time on the back of a Harley.
“What can I get you, Honey?” The ride-or-die tattoo on her forearm waved as she swished a towel across the scarred wooden surface in front of Michelle.
“A Michelob in the bottle.” Michelle put a bill on the bar. She didn’t need to run a tab tonight. She wouldn’t be finishing this one once she got what she came for.
The bartender set the bottle down and gave Michelle a hard look. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“It’s been a while.” She didn’t think she should mention the other day. “Have you been working here long?”
“Too long.” She glanced over her shoulder at Trudy. Somebody slammed an empty on the bar and yelled, “Another!” Biker Mama rolled her eyes and leaned on her elbows. “So, what brings a pretty thing like you in here tonight?”
The woman’s voice was gravelly, and Michelle barely heard it over the noise. What brought her in? It wasn’t the clientele, she thought as she scanned the bar. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Maybe you know him, Cliff Garmen?”
“Sure, I know Cliff. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“So, he’s not here tonight?” Michelle didn’t expect him to be, but she had to ask.
“No. It’s been a couple weeks. But then, I was out of town last week. I was at my old man’s place. ”
“I hope it was somewhere warm.” Michelle lifted the bottle to her lips.
“Shit, no. North Dakota. It was fuckin’ freezing. Good thing I brought my fur-lined underwear.”
Michelle started to chuckle until she realized the woman was serious. “That’s good thinking.”
A second guy clanked his glass on the bar. Trudy didn’t move. The guy did it again. Biker Mama rolled her eyes and mumbled, “I’m coming.” She sauntered off to get them their drinks.
Michelle picked up her bottle and weaseled her way through the crowd of people at the bar. Trudy glanced her way and frowned.
“Hi guys, remember me?” Michelle leaned in between the men.
Bill frowned, Ernie smiled, and Trudy grumbled.
Nice to see at least one of them welcomed her presence. “Hello, all. How’s your evening going?”
“Officer Swenson. You’re looking lovely tonight.” Ernie lifted his beer in welcome.
“I need to get some more pull-tabs,” Bill said to Trudy, who snagged the twenty dollars from the bar, before counting out the tabs and setting them in front of Bill.
“Are you winning tonight?”
Bill grunted.
Michelle pulled a ten from her pocket. Couldn’t hurt. Either these guys would open up or she might win a couple bucks.
When she peeled open the last tab, she shrugged. “Oh well. Not my lucky night.”
“It’s certainly not mine,” the guy behind her mumbled.
She turned to find Junior, his cap pulled low. How did she miss him?
“You checking my alibi? ”
“I haven’t yet, but can now. Trudy, was Junior here two nights ago?”
His stony stare told her he wasn’t going to answer.
She turned to Bill and Ernie. “Did you see Junior here Wednesday night?”
“For sure. He’s here most nights.”
“I wouldn’t think your parole officer would be in favor of you hanging out in a bar.” Surely, he had rehab and therapy in prison.
He lifted his glass. “Sprite.”
“No vodka? Gin?”
He held it out to her. She sniffed, keeping her eyes on him. Vodka didn’t have an odor.
She watched Junior’s expression as she raised the glass to her lips. He couldn’t have expected her to take a drink. She did. Sprite.
“Good thing. I’m off duty and wouldn’t want to bring you in. Paperwork.” She cringed.
“So, have any of you lovely gentlemen seen Cliff Garmen tonight?” she asked to all of them. Trudy grumbled a “no” and moved down the bar. Bill and Ernie both shook their heads. She turned to Junior.
“Not since you asked me last…” He checked his watch. “Which was eleven hours ago.”
“Couldn’t hurt to ask.” She took a sip of her beer and turned to watch the room. It was jumping in here tonight. Besides the regulars, there were a few college-age kids in the back corner playing darts. A couple didn’t look old enough to shave more or less drink. Michelle never would have guessed that Trudy’s bar would be so popular.
She leaned back. “Hey, Trudy.”
He moved closer.
“Did you card the teenie-boppers in the corner?” She flipped her head toward the table by the door.
“I thought you said you were off duty. ”
“I am, just wondering.”
“Yes, and they looked real.”
She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t take it any further. Not tonight. She and Nick had been them many years ago. She turned to Junior. “So, I talked to your old man the other day. I was surprised to see him still running the mall.”
“He’ll never leave. That’s his baby.” Junior bit out his words.
Michelle had struck a nerve. That was her plan. “I figured he’d be grooming you to take over.”
His grip on his glass tightened. Time to dig a little deeper.
“Head of maintenance, that’s a good position.”
He looked her dead in the eye. “I like working with my hands. A desk job would be boring.”
“I can see that.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice, so only Junior could hear. “But you can’t run the mall from the maintenance department.”
“Who said I want to?”
She watched his jaw tighten. Oh, he wanted to. No doubt in her mind.
“Or, your father might not trust you with his mall.”
“You got that right,” he mumbled, but she heard it. Junior glanced at the mirror over the bar. His expression changed, and he gave a small head shake.
Michelle turned to see who he was looking it. The man who had just entered held a phone to his ear as he scanned the bar. On his pass over the bar, his gaze stopped on Junior a split second before he locked eyes with her.
Cliff. If she hadn’t recognized him from his mugshot or employee ID photo, the fact his eyes grew as big as saucers a second before he bolted would have told her .
“Fuck.” The last thing she heard before she took off after him was the clank of her beer bottle on the bar.