P Tracy - Snow Blind

Gino was genuinely confounded. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about your average homicide, and how you usually don’t have to look very far to find the murderer. You know how rare stranger killings are.’

‘Sure, but Deaton and Myerson were not average homicides…’

‘The way they died wasn’t average, but the motive probably was. We weren’t even in the forest, Gino. Not even close.’ He looked over at his partner. ‘Get on the horn to McLaren. Have him check 911 calls and ER records at local hospitals for Mary Deaton.’

Gino’s expression cleared slowly as it dawned on him what it was Magozzi had been trying to say. ‘Holy shit. Mary Deaton. The nose job.’

Magozzi nodded grimly. ‘That maybe wasn’t a nose job.’

Gino was shaking his head miserably. ‘Goddamnit, Leo, Deaton was a cop.’

‘It happens, Gino. A lot. You know it does.’

He thought for a moment. ‘No way Mary Deaton had anything to do with this. She doesn’t have the physique, for one thing, and she’s got that abused-woman mentality going, or she would have put his ass in jail a long time ago.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of Mary Deaton.’

Gino looked at him for a second, then flipped open his phone and dialed the office.

They sat in absolute silence in Iris’s driveway, waiting for McLaren to call back. It didn’t take long. Gino listened for a few minutes, nodding occasionally, but not bothering to take notes. ‘Thanks, Johnny,’ he finally said. ‘Follow it wherever it leads.’

He hung up and looked over at Magozzi. ‘Mary Deaton went into Hennepin County ER for a broken nose two nights before her husband was killed. First time they’d ever seen her. No 911 history, either, so McLaren got a wild hair and started calling other ERs. She had a file in every one of them, one visit each. He got up to five and called us, but he’s still checking. You know how many hospitals we’ve got in the Twin Cities area? And here’s something interesting. Guess who took her in every time.’

‘Her husband. Tommy Deaton.’

‘No cigar. His partner, Toby Myerson. Son of a bitch. That bastard had to know what was happening.’

‘He’s not the only one.’ Magozzi turned and looked at him head-on. ‘What would you do if it was your kid, Gino? If it was Helen?’

Gino didn’t answer him.

By the time Magozzi and Gino finally got out of the car and headed up to Iris’s porch, a weak sunrise was trying to lighten the dingy, snow-speckled sky. Iris and Sampson were both peering out at them through the kitchen window, probably wondering what the hell they’d been doing in the car for so long.

As Iris opened the door to gesture them in, the smell of homemade soup nearly knocked them both down. Gino smiled a little sheepishly when his stomach roared loudly enough for everybody to hear. ‘Sorry.’

‘Sit down,’ Iris grabbed two clean bowls from a cupboard above the stove.

Magozzi was suffering the ill effects of skipping breakfast, too, just not as audibly as Gino. ‘We appreciate it, Sheriff, but we really don’t have time.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Bitterroot. Your jurisdiction, so we’d like you both to come along.’

‘Fine.’ She slapped spoons in their hands. ‘Then spoon it right out of the pot while we get our boots and coats on. You both look like you’re ready to pass out.’

Gino’s resolve weakened the minute the spoon hit his hand, and he was on his way to the stove when Magozzi’s voice stopped him.

‘Not even time for that. We’ve got to get back out there before Bill and Alice Warner leave.’

Iris’s brow furrowed a little when Magozzi mentioned the names. ‘The relatives who were on their way to Laura’s?’

Sampson had his coat halfway up his arms, then let it drop to his chair. ‘Relax. Our deputies just checked in from out there. The local doc ended up giving Laura a sedative when she got a little wild, and the Warners are babysitting until she comes around. You’ve got time for a bowl, and you’d be crazy to pass it up.’

Gino was a happy man, already at the stove, working the ladle.

Iris was standing by the door, one boot on, one in her hand.

‘Their last name is Warner?’

‘Right. Bill and Alice. They’re the in-laws… were the in-laws of one of the cops we pulled out of the Minneapolis snowmen. Tommy Deaton. We just found out he was abusing his wife big time.’

‘Oh, man,’ Sampson was shaking his head. ‘This isn’t good. It keeps coming back to Bitterroot.’

‘Tell me about it. Every time we try to get away from this place we keep getting jerked back. I’m starting to feel like I’ve got a rubber band around my ankle and Dundas County is holding the other end.’ Gino delivered a bowl of soup to Magozzi and started slurping his own. Sure, it looked like they had a little time, but Magozzi never took things like that for granted, and he’d be pulling him out the door in a second.

Iris was pulling her second boot on in slow motion, and Magozzi knew how that worked. Back in the days when he still thought jogging was sensible, he’d be humping it around one of the city lakes at a good clip, thinking about a case, and pretty soon he’d find himself moving like a snail. When the mind was really working, the body slowed.

‘Alice Warner was the name on the deed to this house,’ Iris said, straightening and looking at Magozzi. ‘The daughter of Emily, who owned this house and probably killed her husband. And now you tell me she’s the mother-in-law of a murdered abuser? Now I’m really wondering what these women are teaching their daughters.’

Sampson looked at Magozzi. ‘You like the Warners for your two snowmen?’

‘We’re leaning that way.’

‘How sure are you?’

‘Not at all. That’s what we’re going to find out. We’ll tell you the rest in the car.’

They didn’t call ahead this time; just stopped at the big gates and waited for Liz, the guard they’d met yesterday, to check them in.

‘We’ve got to get back to Laura’s house, Liz,’ Sampson told her when he rolled down the driver’s window.

She looked tired today, frustrated. ‘You and every other cop in the free world.’ She bent to look in the SUV, nodded at Iris, then Gino and Magozzi in the back. ‘Same crew as yesterday?’

‘That’s right. How many of our people are still out here?’

Liz actually scowled at him. ‘We had to keep the gates open when you people first started moving in so fast. First time since the fence went up. I have no idea how many people came in, or how many went out. Every bit of security we had on the perimeter was gone in a heartbeat.’

‘Sorry, Liz. We didn’t have a choice.’

She found a little smile for him. ‘Yeah, I know that. It’s just a little weird, you know? All these strangers tromping around, and nobody knows who anybody is… We’re not used to that.’

‘We’ll clear out as soon we can.’

They parked next to the few other squads left in the lot, then took the shortest route around the corporate building and followed the narrow road out to Laura’s house.

It occurred to Magozzi that he’d never heard the old woman’s last name. Not that it mattered much at this point, it just seemed a strange omission. You always asked for a full name and the correct spelling, whether you were interviewing a doer or a witness, because if you sent in a report without those details, they’d ship you back to night classes on investigation.

‘Damn, I’m sick of this,’ Gino complained as they slogged through the new snow that just kept piling up. ‘These pants are so wet my legs are getting moldy, and it just keeps snowing.’ He stomped his feet when they made it around the building and hit the little plowed road.