The Cold Nowhere (25 page)

‘So am I. I’m just not ready to pretend there’s no connection between Cat and Roslak’s murder, just because a teenage hooker tells you she’s innocent.’

There was angry fire between them. They could both see it. Their relationship was broken.

‘I’m not saying there’s no connection,’ Stride retorted. ‘I just don’t believe that the connection is Cat murdering Roslak. I think it’s much more likely that Cat told Roslak something that got him killed. I want to see all the other videos he made with her. Maybe there’s something in there that will give us a clue.’

‘Ken didn’t see anything that would help us.’

‘I don’t care what Ken saw. Ken’s not on my team anymore. Right now, his only role in this investigation is that he’s sleeping with you.’

Maggie’s face was like stone. ‘Whatever you want. I’ll get the tapes.’

Stride stood up and grabbed his leather jacket from a hook near the door. ‘I’m meeting Serena in Canal Park. We’re going to talk
to Curt Dickes about the prostitution angle. She thinks that may be what Margot was pursuing. That may be the connection to Cat.’

Maggie didn’t move.

‘Is there something else?’ he asked.

She pointed at the television. ‘You heard what Cat said.’

‘About what?’

‘She mentioned you.’

‘Right, so what? I was the one who found her under the porch.’

‘She makes it sound like more than that,’ Maggie told him. ‘Like maybe Marty was alive when you got there.’

Stride couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘What are you saying, Mags?’

‘Back then, Dory told me you and Michaela were having an affair.’

‘I remember. I also remember telling you that we weren’t.’

Maggie said nothing.

Stride sat down on the end of his desk. He and Maggie had been through ups and downs in the years they’d been together. Arguments. Disagreements. Jokes. Tears. He remembered her early days as a young, stiff, Chinese cop, obsessed with rules and protocol. He remembered her coming out of her cocoon like a wild butterfly. He remembered her standing on his porch, soaking wet, yelling at him that he was making a mistake in his second marriage. He remembered her husband’s murder and all the secrets he’d discovered about her sex life that he wished he’d never learned. He remembered the glimmer of doubt in his head that she might have killed her husband over everything he’d made her do.

As close as they were, they still kept secrets from each other. That was the problem. He’d kept it a secret every night he made love to her, when he knew they were making a mistake.

‘Do I really need to say it to you, Mags? Do I really need to say the words?’

She looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot. She pushed herself out of his chair. ‘No. You don’t. I’m sorry.’

Maggie turned for the doorway, but he stopped her. He needed to say the words anyway. He needed her to hear them.

‘I did
not
kill Marty Gamble,’ Stride said. ‘Would I have shot him if he’d still been alive? I don’t know. Maybe I would. But it doesn’t matter. He was dead when I arrived on the scene. He killed himself. That’s what happened.’

‘Seriously?’ Serena said. ‘She really asked if you killed Marty?’

They sat on a bench on the Canal Park boardwalk, near the lineup of tourist hotels. Choppy lake waves splashed over the rocks. ‘I don’t think she believed it, but the fact that she even brought it up tells me how bad things are.’

‘That’s a woman who does not handle rejection well.’

Stride smiled. ‘What woman does?’

Serena punched him in the arm, but she smiled, too. ‘I guess I can’t really take the high road. I asked if you slept with Michaela.’

‘I didn’t, but she and I were close to each other. Too close. I knew she had feelings for me. I should have kept her at a distance, but I couldn’t. Honestly, I didn’t want to.’

‘Did you tell Cindy about it?’

‘No, but I’m sure she knew. I suppose she figured that if I’d cheated on her, I would have told her.’

‘You told me about Maggie.’ Serena murmured.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘What would Cindy have done?’

‘If I’d slept with Michaela? Killed me.’

‘Sounds like I underreacted,’ Serena said. ‘Maybe I should have shot you or something.’

‘Since I know you’re carrying, I’ll say no.’

‘Smart man.’

He stared at the lake. He spotted a ship on the horizon, coming closer. ‘Listen … about last night,’ he said. ‘There were things I
should have told you, and I didn’t. I’m sorry for shutting you out again. That was a mistake.’

‘Tell me now.’

He felt her waiting beside him, and he knew what she was waiting for.
It’s worse
.

‘This isn’t about Michaela,’ he said. ‘It’s about Cat.’

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. ‘Okay.’

‘When she showed up two nights ago, it was a punch in the chest, seeing what’s happened to her these past ten years.’

‘You couldn’t have prevented that, Jonny,’ she said.

‘Yes, I could.’

‘You’re being too hard on yourself. There’s nothing else you could have done to protect Michaela.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘Then what?’

He watched the ship on the lake. Living on the Point, he recognized most of them and knew their names. Even at that distance, he thought the inbound boat was the
Paul Genter
. It was weighted down, its belly deep in the water. He thought about things passing away and disappearing. Cindy was gone. The house they’d shared was gone.

‘A few days after Michaela was killed, Cindy woke me up in the middle of the night,’ he told Serena. ‘You know we’d been trying to have kids for years. We’d both been tested, and nothing was wrong. She’d been taking fertility drugs. Even so, she couldn’t get pregnant. We’d basically given up.’

Serena slowly brought a hand to her mouth. She was smart. She knew where this was going.

‘Cindy said to me – she said, what if things happen for a reason? Maybe we weren’t meant to have kids of our own. Maybe we were meant to rescue someone else’s child. She asked me what I would think about the two of us trying to adopt Catalina. Make her a part of our lives.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said no.’

‘Why?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. There were lots of reasons. It’s one thing to want a child and to have nine months to wrap your head around the idea of your life changing. It’s another to have a six-year-old dropped into your lap. I wasn’t sure I was ready.’

‘That doesn’t sound like you.’

‘Cindy said the same thing,’ he admitted. ‘She wanted to know the real reason.’

‘Which was?’

‘I just couldn’t handle it. I thought that every time I looked in Cat’s face, I would see Michaela, and I would remember what happened. It was too fresh. Too raw.’

‘There’s no sin in feeling that way.’

‘I’m not so sure. Looking back, it feels selfish.’

‘What did Cindy say?’

‘She said she understood, but I don’t know if she did. We never talked about it again. I thought about it for months. I began to wish I’d said yes, but by then it was too late. Cat was already with the Greens. That fall, Cindy was diagnosed with cancer. At that point, everything else went out of my head.’

He wondered what Serena would say. He didn’t want excuses or sympathy. He wanted someone to blame him the way he blamed himself. He’d made a mistake, and that mistake had cost a girl her childhood.

‘Saying yes would have turned your lives upside down. You couldn’t do that if you weren’t sure.’

‘That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.’

‘Okay, so you regret it. You can’t change the past. What are you going to do now?’

He heard the bells of the lift bridge, clanging through the park
like a clarion. The
Paul Genter
was lined up on the canal. It was a thousand-foot giant, rust red, moving from the lake to the calm port.

‘Now feels like a second chance to make it right,’ Stride said.

Serena leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Well, you know me, Jonny. I’m a believer in second chances.’

He turned, and he wanted to kiss her. Really kiss her. It was a prelude to everything that would follow between them. She saw it in his eyes, and she wanted it, too, but they knew it was too soon. She put a finger on his lips, holding him back. The next step would take time, but it would come.

‘I’m glad you told me,’ she said.

‘I am, too.’

Stride began to get up from the bench, but Serena held him back.

‘One more thing,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Maybe this is important, maybe it’s not. Ten years ago. When you found the bodies. Did anything feel wrong to you about the crime scene?’

He was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Michaela was dead. Marty was dead. He killed her, he killed himself. You’re a cop, you know crime scenes. Did anything feel wrong? The angle of the gun, the position of the bodies, anything.’

‘No,’ Stride said. ‘It felt like what it was. Why?’

Serena shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s just a thought. A panicked little girl can reinvent things under hypnosis, but what if Cat really did hear something that night? What if someone else was in the house when they died?’

*

Stride and Serena heard curses from the hotel room on the third floor of the Lakeshore Inn. Inside, the bottom half of Curt Dickes jutted out from under the bathroom sink. A leaking pipe had
soaked his dungarees, and a fine mist made a cloud like a vegetable spritzer.

‘Shit!’ Dickes bellowed.

His arms worked frantically, twisting a wrench. The spray of water diminished, then disappeared. He slid himself out onto the tile floor, shaking water from his hands. When he spotted Stride and Serena over him, he jerked up and banged his head on the underside of the counter.

‘What the fuck?’ he said, rubbing his skull. ‘You want to give me a heart attack?’

‘I knocked,’ Stride said.

‘Yeah, well, I’m in the middle of something, huh?’ Dickes stood up and threw a couple of white towels onto the puddle on the floor. His greasy black hair was mussed into spikes. In the tight space, his cologne was choking. ‘Did you tell the guy at the desk you were looking for me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shit, thanks a lot. That’s what I need, a visit from the cops while I’m at work.’

‘It’ll be worse if they find out you’ve been setting up their guests with hookers,’ Stride said.

‘You think I’m stupid? I don’t shit where I eat.’ Dickes tugged at his wet shirt and noticed Serena for the first time. ‘Hey, you’re keeping pretty good company, Stride.’

‘I’m with the Itasca County Sheriff’s Department,’ Serena said.

‘Yeah, yeah, I know who you are. Chick cop by way of Las Vegas. You don’t think word gets around? So what do you guys want, anyway?’

‘Let’s talk outside,’ Stride said.

They backed out of the bathroom, and Dickes sat down on the end of one of the two queen beds in the hotel room. Both beds were perfectly made and creased into sharp corners. The television was on, its volume loud, and Stride took the remote and switched it off.

‘Saturday night,’ he said. ‘Where were you, Curt?’

‘This about the two murders? I heard about it. Brandy, huh? Sucks. She was a crazy bitch, but she got plenty of repeat business. She was talented, if you like it rough. Not that it’s my scene, you know?’

‘I said, where were you?’

‘What, you think I had something to do with it? Forget that. Me and my new Fusion, we hit the highway on Saturday. I was at the casino half the night. That’s half an hour away, and their cameras will have me on tape the whole time. You can check it out.’

‘Is there any talk on the street about who killed Brandy?’

Dickes shook his head. ‘Nah, but I hope you get this guy soon. Some of the girls are getting freaked, you know? Like there’s some serial killer going after them.’

Stride sat down next to Dickes. ‘Cat says you set her up with some rich guy at a resort on the north shore. This was about a year ago. I want to know who this guy was.’

Dickes shrugged. ‘I’ve got a bad memory. Customers like it like that.’

‘Curt, this isn’t about pimping anymore. This is a murder investigation. Don’t play games with me.’

The kid’s eyes bounced back and forth between them. ‘Do I get a free pass if I talk?’

‘I’m not handing out deals for anything,’ Stride told him. ‘I’m trying to keep you out of prison for twenty-five years. If this guy had anything to do with these murders, you’re in the middle of it.’

Curt blanched. ‘Look, Lieutenant, I really can’t tell you anything. I don’t know who the guy was.’

‘You didn’t get a name?’

‘I got nothing. Never saw the guy, never saw the driver.’

‘So how’d you set it up?’

‘For posh jobs like that one, I get a text with the specs. What kind of girl, where she gets picked up, what sort of entertainment they need. I text a photo back for approval. If it’s a go, an envelope with cash shows up in my PO box. I get the girl where she needs to be, end of story.’

‘You don’t know who’s texting you?’ Stride asked.

‘It’s a different number every time. I figure they’re using pay-as-you-go phones. No tracks.’

‘What about the limos?’

‘Always unmarked. Smoked windows. Mud over the plates. I can’t tell you who’s behind it, because I don’t know.’

‘Did you get any details from the girls? Where they went, who they saw? Any faces they recognize?’

‘As far as I can tell, it’s never the same place twice. Hotels, motels, resorts. Whoever’s running this is careful, and I don’t ask questions. As for the girls, nobody ever came back and started bragging about whose mushroom they swallowed. I don’t have any names.’

‘How often do you get a job like this?’ Serena asked.

‘Not often. Wish I got more, the money’s great. It’s only been six, eight times in a year. That guy with Cat, he was one of the first.’

‘How come you didn’t mention this to me a couple days ago?’ Stride asked. ‘You talked about bachelor parties and bald Swedes, not limos and secret cash. You’ve been holding out on me.’

‘Come on, you think I’m going to get any more calls if people know I’m talking to you? As it is, I’m probably screwed. My phone hasn’t rung all weekend. And hell, I never thought anybody would wind up dead.’