William Krueger - Copper River

“Have you seen people who were murdered?” he asked.

“Yes. And it’s always ugly and upsetting, even for cops.”

Hodder came back out and walked to Dina’s side of the Cherokee. “Ms. Walport, there’s a cell phone in my glove box there. Would you mind handing it to me?” He took it and punched in 911. “This is Constable Hodder in Bodine. I’ve got what appears to be a homicide on my hands.” He gave the address, listened a moment, and said, “I’ll be here.”

Detective Sergeant Terry Olafsson of the Marquette County Sheriff’s office had a wide, ruddy face. He was sandy-haired, not much taller than Dina Willner, but with a broad chest. He wore a red windbreaker with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. Veins ran across the hard muscles of his forearms like thin ropes against smooth wood.

After the introductions were made, Dina said, “I’d like to stay with Ren while you interview him.”

“You an attorney?”

“Like I said, his aunt. I’m just concerned.”

Olafsson said, “Where’s his folks?”

“My father’s dead,” Ren jumped in, irked that the detective was ignoring him. “And my mother’s a veterinarian. She’s out on a call and we can’t reach her.”

Olafsson looked toward Constable Hodder for confirmation.

Hodder nodded. “Just like Ren says.”

They stood beside the constable’s Cherokee. Marquette Sheriff’s people went in and out of the trailer home. “Crime scene technicians, right?” Ren asked Dina.

She winked at him and gave a nod. Then she added, “See that guy?”

A tall, balding man wearing a white shirt and black slacks and carrying a medical bag stepped from a blue sedan and walked toward the trailer.

“Coroner?” Ren guessed.

“Or medical examiner,” she replied.

Ren was grateful for Dina’s observations. They kept him from thinking too much about what was inside the trailer or what might have become of Charlie.

“Any reason the boy needs an adult with him while we talk?” Olafsson said.

“Any reason he can’t have one?” Dina replied.

With a slight nod, Olafsson gave in. “All right.” He took out a small notepad and focused on Ren. “How’d you find the body, son?”

“I just walked in and there it was.”

“Walked in? The door was open?”

“Yes.”

“Both doors?”

“The inside one was already open. I just opened the screen.”

“Anyone tell you to come in?”

“No.”

“Is it your custom to walk into a house uninvited?”

“I was worried about Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Charlene Miller,” Hodder clarified. “The dead man’s daughter.”

“And why were you worried about her, son?”

“Her father drinks sometimes. When he does he gets scary. He was drinking last night.”

“And you know that how?”

“Charlie told me.”

“You saw her last night?”

“Yes.”

“Give me a time.”

“I don’t know. A little after midnight, maybe.”

“Where?”

“We were down at the lake.”

“What were you doing at the lake at midnight?”

“Charlie’s dad was drinking and she didn’t want to go home until she was sure he’d passed out. We were just hanging.”

“She went home when?”

“Like I said, a little after midnight.” Ren thought a moment. “That’s when she left me, anyway. I guess I don’t know for sure that she went home.”

“Did she seem upset, angry?”

“Not when she left.”

“What time did you get here this morning?”

“Around ten.”

“Why’d you come?”

“I had a kolache for her. Sometimes she doesn’t eat right.” Ren looked down at the gravel under his feet. “The truth is I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“You opened the screen door and went in. Then what?”

“Everything was a mess, worse than usual. I went back to her room and I saw, like, this stuff on the wall. The blood and all. I was afraid it was Charlie. I thought he’d hurt her. Then I saw him on the floor.”

“What did you do then?”

“I got out of there as fast as I could.”

“And went straight to the constable?”

“No. I went home first.”

“Why home and not to Constable Hodder?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do you know where Charlene-Charlie-is?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea where she might be?”

Ren hesitated. “No.”

“But you do know the girl pretty well?”

“We’re friends.”

“I don’t know Charlie myself, but I just got off the phone with some folks in the juvenile division who do, son,” Olafsson said. “One thing they told me about Charlie, she has a temper. And they told me about her father and how he treated her sometimes.”

“So?” Ren didn’t like the feel of the detective’s words.

“You saw the baseball bat beside the body?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who the bat belongs to?”

“It’s Charlie’s.”

“That’s right. Charlie’s. I want to ask you something, son, and I want you to answer me as honestly as you can. Will you do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“Do you think Charlie could have done this to her father?”

Dina stepped in. Ren appreciated how firm and cool she seemed. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Detective.”

“I’m just asking for an informed opinion.”

“Of a fourteen-year-old boy? About a murder? That’s low and you know it.”

“It’s okay,” Ren said quickly. He looked at Detective Sergeant Olafsson steadily. “She couldn’t. He was a bastard sometimes, but she loved him. She wouldn’t do something like…like in there.”

Olafsson nodded, scowled a little. “I understand you live in the woods, a resort, with your mother. That right?”

“Yes.”

“You ever see a small animal, a rabbit, say, trapped in a corner? Even a rabbit can get vicious when it’s threatened.”

Dina said, “He’s not the jury, Detective. And you’re not the prosecutor. No need to convince him of anything.”

Olafsson looked at her, and Ren saw his jaw tighten. “You certainly seem to think you know your way around the law, Ms. Walport. What is it you do?”

“I watch a lot of television. Cop shows. You’d be surprised what you can pick up.”

Although a smile played briefly across the detective’s lips, it didn’t seem friendly. The way he started to look at Dina, as if she were a steak sizzling on a grill, didn’t sit well with Ren, either.

Olafsson returned his attention to Ren. “Did you touch anything or move anything while you were in the trailer, son?”

“No.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“I’m sure.”

Olafsson seemed to be waiting for Ren to reconsider. With his silence, Ren held his ground.

“All right, then. I guess that’s it for now.”

Hodder said, “Okay if I take these folks back to town?”

“I suppose. We may want to talk to the boy later.” He glowered at Ren. “No trips out of town for a while, okay?”

Ren nodded.

“I want you back here right away, Ned,” Olafsson added. “We need to go over the vic’s friends, acquaintances, drinking buddies, girlfriends. Whatever you can tell me.”

“I’ll be back in ten.”

Olafsson strode toward the trailer home.

They piled into the Cherokee. Hodder backed out and headed north into town.

Dina spoke toward the windshield. “You know Olafsson?”

“I’ve worked with him before. Never a murder investigation. He’s not what I’d call a warm man, but he’s thorough. And fair.”

Ren said, “He sounded like he thought Charlie did it.”

“He’s got to consider that possibility,” Hodder replied. He turned onto Lake Street. Lake Superior stretched away on the right, the great old homes of Bodine rose on the left. “Everybody knows Charlie’s a firecracker. When she goes off, well…”