Brian Freeman - The Cold Nowhere

Serena and Stride both stood up.

‘Thanks for your time,’ Serena told him.

‘For a woman who looks like you, sweetheart, I always have time. And Jon, it’s always a pleasure. I meant what I said. I like you. I’d hate to see you get into trouble. K-2 feels the same way. You get my message?’

‘Loud and clear,’ Stride said.

‘Good. Real good. Give me a call when the weather warms up. We’ll play eighteen.’

‘You golf?’ Serena asked, as she sprinkled chocolate on the skim foam of her cappuccino.

Stride smiled. ‘I found a body on a golf course once. Does that count?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Cindy golfed. She bought me clubs, but I only used them twice. They’re still in the attic.’

‘Was she any good?’

‘Cindy? Oh, yeah, she was on the golf team in college. She used to play with K-2 and Steve all the time. I don’t think they ever beat her.’

The two of them found a table in the food court of Miller Hill Mall. The crowded space smelled of caramel corn and Chinese food. Oldies from the 1980s played from overhead speakers. Stride checked his watch; it was nearly three o’clock. He sipped black coffee and watched a squealing pack of toddlers chase each other between the tables.

‘So what happened to Lenny’s wife?’ Serena asked. ‘He’s got the big painting on the wall, and he said you both lost women you loved.’

‘That’s true,’ Stride said. ‘Rebekah’s dead.’

‘Did you know her?’

‘No, I met him when she was killed. Lenny was just getting into politics back then. I have to give him credit, he was genuinely supportive when Cindy died a couple years later. I thought things would be different after that, but politics is politics for Lenny. Not long after, he was throwing up roadblocks for me again.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘She was killed during a home invasion. She and Lenny were on some Ford junket in the Keys, but Rebekah got food poisoning and came home early. She stumbled right into the burglary, and a Hmong immigrant named Fong Dao shot her in the head.’

‘Awful.’

‘Yeah, say what you want about Lenny, he was devastated. The two of them got married young, long before he made his money. Most of his friends said she was the one with the business savvy. Rebekah was the one who pushed him into politics, too. He was launching his first City Council campaign when she was murdered. At first, he said he was going to bow out, but then he changed his mind and won by a landslide.’

‘When was this?’

‘Ten years ago, right before Christmas.’

‘Was that the same winter Michaela died?’

‘Yes, Marty killed Michaela about six weeks later.’

Serena frowned. ‘Is there any way there could be a connection?’

‘I don’t see how. By the time that happened, Fong was already under arrest. He’d done time for half a dozen burglaries in St. Paul, and he was on our radar after a couple similar crimes here in the city. We found the money and jewelry from the burglary in Fong’s apartment, plus the gun that was used to kill Rebekah.’

‘What about accomplices?’ Serena asked.

‘Fong was a loner, except for a girlfriend. If Fong thought he could cop a better deal by ratting out an accomplice, he’d have done it in a heartbeat.’

‘Lenny never remarried after the murder?’ Serena asked.

‘No, but he obviously didn’t take a vow of celibacy.’

‘You think he’s lying about prostitution?’

‘I do,’ Stride said. ‘Don’t you?’

Serena nodded. ‘Yeah, if there’s some kind of upscale hooker network operating in town, he’s part of it. I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that Margot started hunting for Cat right after her sit-down with Lenny. She figured out something and wanted Cat’s help in proving it. The question is, would a prostitution scandal really be enough to end Lenny’s political career? It’s embarrassing, but politicians have survived worse.’

‘Not if the prostitute was a kid,’ Stride said.

‘Is that worth killing over?’

‘Lenny’s more powerful than the mayor up here. You think he’d give that up over a one-night stand with a teenage hooker? I think he’d do just about anything to save his neck, and it wouldn’t be hard for Lenny to find somebody to do the dirty work for him.’

Serena inclined her head toward a woman who was picking her way through the mall crowds toward them. ‘Well, let’s see what Lenny’s employees say about him. That’s Phyllis Bowen, the woman who sold Margot the SUV.’

The two of them stood up to shake Bowen’s hand as she joined them. The saleswoman from Lowball Lenny’s dealership eyed the people around her, as if she was afraid to be recognized with two police officers. When Stride offered to buy her a cup of coffee she shook her head. Instead, she put a paper lunch bag on the table, but she didn’t open it. She sat down opposite them and fidgeted in her chair.

‘I appreciate your meeting us, Phyllis,’ Serena told her.

Bowen shrugged. It was obvious that she didn’t want to be here. ‘I hope this doesn’t take long. I took a late lunch.’

‘We just have a few more questions.’

‘I already told you what I know. Margot bought an Explorer from me, end of story. She drove her last truck into the ground; it had like two hundred and fifty thousand miles on it.’

‘Did she say why she came to you? I mean, why not shop closer to home? There’s a Ford dealership five minutes from her place in Grand Rapids.’

‘Nobody can touch the deals here. We get buyers from all over. Everybody knows Lenny.’

‘Yes, they do,’ Stride said. ‘So tell us about him.’

Bowen fingered the paper bag, making it crinkle. ‘Lenny says the dealership is a family. Family don’t tell stories on each other.’

‘I appreciate your loyalty, but we’re investigating a disappearance and at least two murders.’

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘Maybe not, but you can help us. What’s it like to work at Lenny’s dealership?’

Bowen’s lips bent into a frown. ‘It’s a boys’ club. Big deal.’

‘You’re no boy.’

‘I’m the token woman,’ she said. ‘They don’t want blonde bombshells working the floor. Too many male buyers go straight to them. I guess I was plain enough to fly under the radar.’

Bowen wasn’t unattractive, but Stride knew she wouldn’t turn men’s heads. She was in her early thirties, tall and skinny, with brown hair cut in a bob. Her nose was slightly too big for her face and had a slight hawk-like droop at the tip. Her chin made a severe point. She would blend into a crowd, not stand out from one.

‘You can see why I’d get the up when a woman like Margot turned up in the showroom,’ Bowen added.

‘The up?’ Serena asked.

Bowen smiled. ‘Customer walks in, one of the salesman gets up. Anyway, nobody wanted her. I got the last laugh, because I made the sale.’

‘You must do pretty well,’ Stride said. ‘You were at the party on the Frederick this past weekend for the top salespeople, right?’

‘That’s right. Most of the younger salesmen don’t get the fact that car buyers aren’t looking for slick. They want solid, steady, dependable, trustworthy. That’s me.’

‘How was the party?’ Stride asked.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Painful, but not optional. Booze. Dirty jokes. More booze. I was happy to get home to my husband and my kids.’

‘What time did you leave?’ Stride asked.

‘Eleven fifteen. I ate the steak dinner at the Radisson, and I stayed on the boat long enough to collect my trophy, and then I was gone.’

‘Did you hear anything about girls at the party?’