Authors: Mary Logue
When Amy got the news from Claire that the bones were definitely Tammy Lee’s, it didn’t surprise her. But she was surprised by how matter-of-factly she took the news. Was she turning into such a cop that nothing got to her anymore? She hoped not.
“Would you go and talk to the boyfriend?” Claire asked, tapping a pencil on her desk, a new nervous habit Amy had noticed. “He might have been told the news by Tammy Lee’s parents, but he deserves to know. See what he’s up to, and how he reacts. He might well be our guy. Ask him to stick around.”
“Sure, I’ll head out right now.”
“Did you know him at school?”
“Name sounds familiar, but he’s probably a few years older than me.”
“Ancient,” Claire said, then smiled.
“When you’re a teenager, it makes a difference.”
“Tell that to my daughter.”
“What?” Amy asked, wondering what this was about.
“Oh, nothing. She started dating a guy who’s almost ten years older than her.”
“John’s older than me.”
“But you’re not a teenager.”
“Meg hardly is anymore either.”
“Whose side are you on?”
Amy laughed. “The side of the law. And your daughter’s legal, whether you want her to be or not.”
“Get out of here,” Claire said sternly, but her eyes crinkled. “If we don’t get something definite on how Tammy Lee died in the next twenty-four hours, I’m calling in some help.”
Amy made a couple of calls and found out that Terry worked for the railroad. He’d be days on the road, then have time off. She called his number and he answered, but sounded barely awake. She simply said she’d be out to see him and hung up. She never liked to tell people about a death over the phone.
He lived out of town in a trailer parked in front of falling-down farmhouse. Amy got out of the squad car and stood for a few minutes, looking at the old house. It always made her sad to see the old houses sink into the ground.
Terry’s trailer looked fairly respectable, and he had piled hay bales around the perimeter of the structure to winterize it. Looked goofy, but not a bad idea. Keep the winter winds from whistling under the floor.
She walked up to the door and rapped twice. Waiting, she heard someone moving around inside. As she started to knock again, the door was pulled open and a man with greasy brown hair and wearing a flannel shirt and jeans looked out at her. The clothes looked like they had just been pulled on.
“Sorry to wake you,” she said.
“I don’t care. What about Tammy Lee?” he said. “I’m worried sick.”
“May I come in?” she asked.
He backed up and she stepped into his small space. Dirty dishes were stacked next to the small sink. A window wrapped around the eating area and there was a nice view down a field. A couple
Field & Stream
magazines sat on the fold-down table.
Terry didn’t offer her a seat. He just stood staring at her.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this—but I’m afraid she’s dead.”
“How?”
“We have confirmation that the bones found at the burn site are Tammy Lee’s.”
He turned his back to her. He walked to the window and put his hands above the frame. “I can’t believe it.” He spit out the words.
“I’m sorry.”
“We were going to be married. We had it all planned. She had bought a wedding dress. How can this happen?” He said it like it was a speech, like he had been thinking about it for a long time. Maybe he had had a sense that Tammy Lee was dead for a while.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
He turned on her. “That’s what they all say. Sorry for your loss. What a stupid thing. Sorry that your wife-to-be died. That you’ll never see her again. That you’ll never get to marry her. We had the wedding band and everything.”
“Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
“Well, I think you should be looking right in your own department. Andrew Stickler had every reason to kill her.”
Amy stepped back. “Why would Andrew want to kill her?”
“He wanted to get her away from me. They broke up when he went into the service and Tammy Lee told me that he’s been bugging her lately, wanting to see her.”
“But why would he kill her?”
“Because she was with me, because she was going to marry me and he couldn’t have her.” Terry grabbed the sides of the table as his voice rose.
“I’ll check into that. Anyone else?”
“Oh, geez.” He wiped at his face. “Tammy Lee didn’t always hang around with the best people. And I was gone a lot, on the railroad. She promised me she was being good, you know, not doing much drugs, not going to the bars, but she liked to have a good time, what can I say.”
“What people? What bars?”
“Oh, you know, around. Some in Durand, she’d go up to Menomonie or even Eau Claire sometimes. I don’t know. I didn’t keep track. When she was with me, we’d stay close to home, but I know she could wander.”
“Can you give me any names?”
As he told her a couple of men’s names, Amy wrote them down. But her mind was still on the possibility of Andrew having something to do with this. She liked him and he was one of them now, a cop. It made her uncomfortable to think about checking up on him.
“Thanks,” Amy said. “And where were you Friday night?”
“Just getting off the road. Got in about nine or ten that night. Went right to sleep. After my shift I’m beat. Tried to call Tammy Lee, but didn’t get her. Figured I’d see her in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Amy said.
He sat down on the bench by the table and put his head in his hands. “When she knew I was home she’d often come pounding on my door in the morning, bringing me a doughnut or something. She could be so sweet.”
“If you think of anything, give me a call.”
At first Terry appeared to have hardly heard her, then he lifted his head and asked questions she couldn’t answer. “What are they going to do with the bones? How will they bury her if that’s all that’s left?”
The phone rang on his bedside table and Andrew grabbed it, still half asleep. “Yeah, who is it?”
“I know it’s late.”
Andrew sat up in bed. Her voice woke him up. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet and had been thinking about her.
“Where are you?” he asked Meg.
“I’m outside my house, standing at the end of the driveway. It’s where we get the best reception for my cell phone.”
“You should be in bed and asleep. What’re you doing up so late? You shouldn’t be calling me.”
“I know my mom talked to you, and I know she doesn’t want us to see each other for a while, but I had to talk to you myself. Just to make sure this is what we want to do.” Meg paused, then asked, “Can she order you not to see me?”
“Not really. But I think she’s right. Until this death is cleared up, it would be for the best.”
Meg didn’t say anything.
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Just like that. You’re going to give in.”
“It won’t be forever.”
“But I’m leaving in a couple of months.”
“I know.”
She sighed. “Can’t we just get together to talk it over? I’d like to feel like it’s our decision, not just something we’re doing for my mom and your boss.”
He knew it wasn’t wise, but hearing her voice made him want to touch her again. “Okay. When and where?”
“How about the old wayside rest near Double J? You know, the one they shut down a few years ago. We could park there and no one would see us.”
“When?”
“I’ve got to work tonight, but how about tomorrow night. Say, seven?” Meg suggested.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.” He knew he sounded reluctant.
“Is this really okay, or don’t you want to see me?” Meg asked.
Andrew gave a sharp laugh. “You gotta understand. I’m just out of the service. I’m used to obeying orders.”
When Amy called the railroad company, she got some hoarse man at the other end shouting at her. “What? Just wait a minute while I close the door. What’d ya say?”
“I’m calling about Terry Whitman?”
“Yeah, what about him? He in trouble again?”
Amy was surprised by his question and not sure how to answer it, so for the moment she ignored it. “I’m calling from the Pepin County Sheriff’s Department, and I’m checking on Mr. Whitman’s work schedule.”
“Oh, give me a sec. I got to dig to find it. He’s got a few days off, then he starts back to work in three days.”
“What about last week? When did he come off his shift?”
“Yeah, he worked until late on Friday.”
“How late?”
“Depends on when we pulled in. I’d say it was probably around eight. I think we were pretty on schedule that night.”
“Don’t suppose you know where he went?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know and don’t care. Long as he’s here when he’s supposed to be.”
“Right.”
“But I do know that a lot of the guys go over to the Fourth Base after their shift is over. It’s kinda a hangout for the railroad crew. Wouldn’t surprise me if he stopped off there.”
“Thanks, you’ve been a lot of help.”
“What’s he done this time?”
“He’s been in trouble with the law before?” Amy asked.
“Oh, he gets in fights, nothing serious. Just got a temper. Not on the job, though. If he did it while he worked, he’d get the can. I heard he’s getting married. Maybe that’ll calm him down.”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling. His fiancée was killed.”
“Lord, I’m sorry. Terry thought the world of her. He even showed her picture to a few of us. Seemed pretty happy about the whole deal. That’s going to hit him hard. I’ll pass the news around.”
“If you talk to anyone who was with him Friday night, let me know.”
“Sure will do. Terrible thing, terrible.”
Claire always liked the drive down to Rochester, the steep rise on the Minnesota side of the Mississippi up and out of the river valley to the rolling farmland. The bluffs on the west side were often in shadow, so as she drove up the road, she felt like she was lifting out into sunlight. Even just to get away from the department for a few hours felt good.
Earlier that day, Sheriff Talbert’s wife had told her that the surgeons at Mayo had confirmed that putting in stents would not be enough to fix the sheriff’s ailing heart, and they were going to do the quadruple bypass surgery the next day. Claire felt like she needed to see him before he was incapacitated for a week or so. Check in with him about a couple of things pending, but also talk to him about Andrew Stickler and what had happened to Tammy Lee.
She didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. His wife had assured her that he was in good enough shape to have a visit.
And if she would admit it to herself, Claire wanted to see the sheriff. He was a touchstone for her, a solid person she had come to rely on and she was feeling unsure of her ability to take his place, even for a month or so.
As she drove up over the bluff line and into the sun, she realized with a start that what she wanted was his blessing.
Another forty minutes and she drove into Rochester. She didn’t go there too often and was always surprised by how completely the Mayo Clinic dominated the town—one posh neighborhood was even called Surgeon’s Hill. Because of the squad car she could park wherever she pleased, but she did find a place in a lot not too far from the main hospital.
The other thing she learned about the Mayo Clinic as she entered the lobby, which was a pleasant surprise, was how much money and wall space they donated to artwork. Walking down the halls was like walking into a gallery. In one of the children’s wings, she had seen an amazing ABC animal hooked rug that had really inspired her. Maybe when she retired she’d take up rug hooking.
When she came to his room, the TV was on but the sheriff was sleeping, and his wife was knitting something out of bright red yarn. Probably something for Christmas. Ella motioned her in.
Claire couldn’t believe how pasty white the sheriff looked, worse than the last time she had seen him. “Don’t wake him.”
“He needs to get up anyway. Lunch will be here in a few minutes, and he won’t want to miss that. Although they’ve got him on a low-cholesterol diet and he’s not very happy about it.”
“Don’t imagine.”
“I told him those eggs for breakfast every morning would catch up with him.” Ella reached over, grabbed his foot through the light blanket, and wiggled it.