Brian Freeman - Goodbye to the Dead (Jonathan Stride Book 7)

‘Did the driver say he saw the Rav parked there after ten o’clock?’

‘He thought so, but he didn’t check the clock.’

‘Is the corner of West 8th and Skyline within a couple hundred yards of Dr. Snow’s house?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you talk to residents on 8th Street?’

‘Yes, we did.’

‘Did any of those residents own a Rav4 or have visitors who owned a Rav4?’

‘No.’

‘Were you able to identify who owned this Rav4?’

‘No.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant. You testified that you were unable to locate a revolver allegedly owned by Jay Ferris, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘You allege that Mr. Ferris owned a revolver because of a photograph supplied by the victim’s brother Clyde Ferris, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did Clyde Ferris make a statement to you that his brother routinely carried his gun with him?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Did Clyde Ferris also make a statement to you that he went ice-fishing with his brother in early January, less than a month before Jay Ferris was murdered?’

Stride hesitated. ‘Yes, he did.’

‘Were you able to independently confirm that this outing took place?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you confirm this?’

‘I got a copy of a report filed by Jay Ferris with the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.’

‘Did the report indicate that due to thin ice, Jay Ferris lost his truck and his fishing shanty into the water of Superior Bay at that time?’

‘Yes,’ Stride said, and he knew where Gale was going now.

‘Lieutenant, isn’t it possible that the gun allegedly owned by Mr. Ferris — which his brother said he routinely had with him — could have been lost in his truck or in his fishing shanty when they went through the ice?’

‘It’s possible,’ Stride acknowledged, ‘although the truck and shanty were both salvaged once the ice came off the bay in the spring. The gun wasn’t found.’

‘Would it have been possible for the gun to be lost in the bay when those items flooded and sank?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant. You also testified about an affair between Dr. Snow and a former colleague of yours named Nathan Skinner, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘You discovered this affair because the defendant brought it to your attention, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did Jay Ferris have a history of animosity with Nathan Skinner?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘In fact, Nathan Skinner was fired from the Duluth Police because of columns written by Jay Ferris, is that right? Columns in which he cited Nathan Skinner’s use of vile racial slurs?’

‘In part, yes.’

‘Did Nathan Skinner assault Jay Ferris after he lost his job?’

‘Yes, there was one such incident.’

‘During the course of your investigation, did you find evidence that Jay Ferris had discovered the affair between his wife and Nathan Skinner?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it reasonable to conclude that this information would have upset Mr. Ferris?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Mr. Ferris’s wife was sleeping with a man whom Mr. Ferris described in his columns as a racist, and you don’t think he would have been upset?’

‘I can’t speculate about Mr. Ferris’s reaction,’ Stride said.

‘Did you interview Nathan Skinner when you learned about his relationship with Dr. Snow?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Did Nathan Skinner admit to being angry at Jay Ferris?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Did Nathan Skinner have a verifiable alibi after 9:45 p.m. on the night of the murder?’

‘We confirmed he was at his apartment for part of the evening, but we couldn’t specifically confirm that he was there after 9:45 p.m.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ Gale put down one set of papers on the counsel table, and he picked up another folder. ‘Can you tell the court, please, did Jay Ferris file a police report last October 5 regarding an individual with a gun?’

‘Yes, he reported seeing an individual using an assault rifle in the woods near Ely’s Peak.’

‘Mr. Ferris took photographs of this man, did he not?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Were you able to identify this individual?’

‘No. The photographs weren’t clear enough.’

‘However, your wife believes that she saw this individual in Miller Hall Mall and that he was carrying a handgun, doesn’t she?’

‘My wife followed a man who was similar in appearance to the man in the photographs. We don’t know if it was the same man.’

‘Did he threaten her?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘But you still haven’t identified this man, have you?’ Gale asked.

‘No,’ Stride admitted, ‘we haven’t.’

Heather Hubble was a photographer.

Cindy had worked with Heather the previous year following a fall she’d taken while shooting the ice caves of the Apostle Islands. Cindy had seen her twice a week for three months, and during that time, she’d poked into Heather’s life story with her usual curiosity. She learned about Heather’s five-year-old daughter, Lissa, and about the short-lived affair that had produced her. She found out that Heather’s parents didn’t approve of her vegan, out-in-the-woods lifestyle. She pegged Heather as one of the fringe loners dotting the northland, not bothering anyone and not wanting to be bothered.

Heather lived on a dirt road half a mile off the North Shore highway. Dense trees made the small home almost invisible, and the driveway was rutted with mud. It was the kind of house that would have been built decades earlier as a three-season getaway, but Heather lived in it year round. The cabin had been handed down by her grandfather, and it needed work. Fresh paint. Repairs to the roof and the deck. New windows. Cindy knew that Heather didn’t have much money for maintenance.

‘Hi, Cindy,’ Heather said with surprise when she answered the door. ‘What are you doing in the middle of nowhere?’

Cindy smiled. ‘I need your help.’

‘Sure, come on in.’

The small living room smelled of berries from two lit candles. With the windows open, a warm summer breeze made music on wind chimes hung from the ceiling. The house was messy, cluttered with old furniture and children’s toys. Nature photographs in cheap frames adorned the walls, leaving almost no open space. The photographs were good; Heather had a gift.

Heather cleared space on a plaid recliner for Cindy to sit. There were holes worn in the arms, with white fluff poking out from the fabric like drift from a cottonwood. Heather herself flopped down in a rocking chair and bounced back and forth. She wore shorts and a loose green tank top. Her sandy blond hair was shoulder-length, and her pale, freckled skin had no makeup. She was almost thirty, which sounded young to Cindy now. Once upon a time, it had felt old.

‘Where’s Lissa?’ Cindy asked.

Heather rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘My parents took her on vacation with them. Disney World. She’s going to come back with princess dresses and Mickey Mouse earrings. I’m not sure how I managed to raise a girly girl. That must be her father’s DNA coming through. He was always pretty impressed with how he looked.’

‘How’s the photo business?’ Cindy asked.

‘Not bad. Summer is wedding season. Brides are hell, but their daddies pay good money.’

‘And your back? It’s okay?’

‘Yeah, thanks. All the PT really helped. I’ve been pretty good about keeping up with the exercises, and yoga keeps me limber, too.’

‘Good.’

‘What’s going on with you?’ Heather asked. ‘You need some portraits done? Glamour shots for the hubby?’

Cindy laughed. ‘I think that would make Jonny blush. Actually, I have an odd favor to ask. I talked to Kon at Lake Superior Magazine , and she said you took a ton of photos at Grandma’s Marathon this year.’