Chapter Eight

Deidre descended the steps from the Moores’ home with her head down. The anguish displayed by the parents made her visit one of the worst she had experienced during her career as a law enforcement officer. Her mind was on their pain as she pulled away from the curb and headed out of town to Ed Beirmont’s place on the lake.

As she pulled into his driveway, a huge dog, a Great Dane she thought, came bounding out to greet her. Deidre opened her window a crack, gingerly stuck her fingers through the opening, and was rewarded by the feel of the dog’s tongue eagerly licking them. Its tail was wagging so hard his whole body moved with it. Deidre pushed the door open against the dog’s bulk. It was tall enough to look her in the eye through the driver’s-side window.

Just as she was about to step out of the car, Ed poked his head out of his warehouse. “Sam, get over here, now!” he yelled at the dog, and Sam loped over to his master, who ruffled his ears. It was evident there was a bond between the two.

“Hi, Ed,” Deidre said extending her hand, “I’m Sheriff Deidre Johnson. Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to ask you a question or two, if you don’t mind.”

Ed shook her hand, his large mitt engulfing hers. “Of course,” he answered, looking down at her and squarely into her eyes. “Let’s go up to my porch where we can sit down.”

Sam bounded ahead and up the stairs to the deck before them. It was clear who ruled the roost in this house. Ed indicated with a sweep of his hand for Deidre to take a seat, and she sat facing the lake. The view was phenomenal.

“So, what do want to know, Sheriff?”

“For the past week, we’ve been trying to discover the whereabouts of George Tomlinson. Most people around here call him Skinny. He’s been seen riding around with you quite often, and I thought you might have some idea if he’s out of town.”

“Yeah, I pick up Skinny once in a while. He’s a pretty lonely guy. Funny, when somebody with few social graces is ignored they respond by becoming even more obnoxious. If you get Skinny away from the bars and talk to him, he really isn’t all that bad of a guy. I haven’t seen him for a few days myself. Do you think something’s happened to him?” Ed looked concerned.

“We don’t know. His pickup was found in the ditch off the Whyte Road, and he hasn’t been seen since. I know he’s done this kind of thing before, but he’s never dropped out of sight this long.

“I had a talk with Friendly Jane. She says she saw you get in the truck with Skinny, and he drove away. Do you remember that?”

Ed puffed out his cheeks before he answered. “That was the last time I saw him. I stopped to have a beer on my way home from fishing, and Skinny was staggering out of the tavern. He was in no shape to drive home, so I made up an excuse to go with him, told him that the battery of my pickup was dead.

“But when he started out, he turned onto Highway 2 going the opposite way from town. I thought he was so blitzed he didn’t know where he was, but he wanted to take the roundabout way through Whyte. I tried to get him to let me drive, but he kicked me out of his truck at Terry’s tavern, said to find another ride home. He told me he was heading for the Whyte.”

“Did anyone see you fishing?” Deidre wanted to know.

“There wasn’t anyone else on the lake. I was up at Silver Island. Not many people get back there, especially late in the evening. It was dark by the time I came off the lake.”

“One last thing, Ed. When I was waiting for the tow truck by Skinny’s pickup, the wind kicked up a piece of paper, and I picked it up. It was a blank sales receipt, one of yours. Were you with Skinny when his truck went into the ditch?”

Ed looked Deidre square in the face, and without hesitating, answered, “No. I told you, he kicked me out of his truck at Terry’s. I caught a ride back to Friendly’s place and took my truck home.”

Deidre studied him for a moment, and he didn’t flinch. “How do you suppose a copy of your sales receipt ended up by his truck?”

“That I can’t answer,” Ed stated flatly, still looking directly at Deidre.

She stood and offered her hand again, this time not shocked at its size.

“Thanks, Ed. Let me know if Skinny shows up on your doorstep,” and she walked down the stairs to her SUV.

 

 

She hardly had enough time to return to her office and sit down when her phone rang.

“Hello, Sheriff Johnson speaking.”

“Good afternoon, Sheriff. This is Mac McAlpine from the Lake Superior Drug and Gang Task Force in Duluth calling. How are things on your end of the district?”

Mac was a detective who had worked for the Duluth police force for twenty years, but three years ago he took on a new responsibility. He still worked out of the Duluth office but now was in charge of an area that covered approximately a quarter of the state. His salary was paid by tax dollars from four counties, and his force consisted of members of the Duluth SWAT team when he needed them, three of his own officers, and sometimes officers “on loan” from other forces. Deidre was on good terms with Mac. Her office and his had worked together on four sting operations since she had become sheriff.

Deidre knew this wasn’t a social call, but she answered his inquiry about Lake County’s goings on. “Not too bad, something every day, but overall, pretty calm. What’s up with this call? I assume you aren’t totally interested in what’s happening in Lake County.”

Mac cleared his throat. “I heard you had a death the other night in Two Harbors due to a probable overdose. Have you discovered anything we might be interested in hearing about?”

Deidre paused. “We can’t move too fast until the tox screen gets back. I’ve started to put together a profile of the dead girl, and we’ll certainly share the info with you. Jeff, Deputy DeAngelo, is our liaison to your group. I think you meet next week, if my calendar is correct. He’ll be there.”

Mac wasn’t done. “I’m wondering if I could meet with the two of you before then to discuss a matter of mutual concern. If I drive up tomorrow, could we meet in your office?”

There goes my lunch hour, she thought. “Sure, that would be okay. I have an hour free from twelve o’clock to one, if that fits your schedule.”

Mac agreed, and Deidre jotted down a note to herself to talk to Jeff about the meeting.