Laura wrote her initials and turned to the final page of her official statement. Her pen still touched the paper at the end of her signature when the door to the conference room opened.
“Finished?” Sheriff Bergstrom leaned in.
“Yes.” She scribbled the date and flipped the report back to the beginning. “Do you need the room?”
“You have guests.”
At the sheriff’s office? She glanced around the room—yep, she was still in the utilitarian meeting and break room with fridge, microwave, and one table surrounded by sturdy chairs. Before she could stand and present the statement to the sheriff, men started to file through the door.
She forced a smile at Uncle Daryl and nodded to Brad. Her breathing stalled at the sight of the next man.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Tanner.” Detective Wilson of St. Louis closed the distance between them with a few steps and reached across the table.
“What . . . ”
“Never been this far north for a winter vacation.” He reached into his jacket pocket and scattered wrapped mints on the table. “Sheriff Bergstrom and others in this room can be very persuasive.”
Laura found a smile one degree warmer than her usual customer service style for the lead detective on Scott’s case. An instant later, she became aware of a stranger beside him.
“John Schultz, Kenosha Police Department.” He offered his hand.
“Kenosha.” Laura mixed puzzled with polite. “Pardon me. My geography fails me at the moment.”
“Extreme southeastern Wisconsin.” He released a short, firm grasp on her hand. “I’ve been assigned to take another look at the James Beel death.”
Sheriff Bergstrom retrieved one of the legal pads from the center of the table and claimed a chair. “Shall we begin?”
Laura nodded along with the others. Light glinted off Brad’s hook mere inches from her clasped hands weighting down her signed statement of yesterday’s events. Sea breeze aftershave and the bubble of fresh air he tended to bring into a room tickled her senses.
“Are you okay?” Brad whispered.
She managed a nod.
“We’ve come from the hospital.” Daryl filled the simple words with serious meaning.
“Is Myles . . . ” She moved her gaze from Daryl to Brad. Did he kill a man? For her?
“Mr. Wilcox, if that’s his true name, will make a full recovery. He’ll be moved to a cell in the adjoining wing before the end of today.”
Laura set her attention on the sheriff.
“Mrs. Tanner, are you familiar with the name Brian Klipper?”
“No, ma’am. Should I be?”
The sheriff jotted a note without losing eye contact with Laura. “What about Jason Young?”
She glanced at her hands and concentrated on attaching surnames to the several men with that first name from work, college, and her St. Louis neighborhood. “No. I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
“My deputies found three sets of identification in Mr. Wilcox’s truck. Are you certain you’ve not been contacted by either Brian Klipper or Jason Young?”
“I can’t recall either name. There’s always a chance one of them shows in my computer, but I can’t make a connection. Do you need to check it? I didn’t bring it with me today.” Laura thought back on the messages since her arrival in Crystal Springs. After her employer closed, her email circle consisted of family, a few friends, and business contacts for the bookstore. Nothing close to these names mentioned stood out.
“Early last year,” Wilson spoke around one of his mints. “We gathered evidence connecting Brian Klipper to Scott Tanner’s murder. We traced him as far as the Minneapolis airport and then he vanished like smoke. We found a witness in St. Louis, but the man consistently picked Mr. Tanner out of the photo array. I didn’t understand the why of that until a few hours ago. That pair looks like brothers, even twins.”
Laura clenched her hands to suppress a tremble. Not many witnesses would notice a difference in voice or fingers of the right hand. “Scott’s true brother is different at a glance. Mr. Wilcox . . . he unnerved me.”
Brad nudged her with his hook to get her attention. “Your husband did not have an evil twin. I checked with his mother.”
You called my mother-in-law?
“The accountants finished with the files Mr. Tanner left for you to find.” Wilson claimed the conversation again.
“I’ll confess to keeping a partial copy,” Laura fought the urge to grasp the rings under her sweater. “They totally confused me.”
Daryl tapped the table. “Makes me glad to hear you say that.”
“You like me confused?” She moved her gaze to her uncle’s eyes and failed to find a hint of humor this time.
Wilson gave Daryl one of his half smiles. “I think your uncle is reassured that you’re not familiar with accounting tricks to hide laundered funds.”
“Drug money? Gary Browne?”
“We arrested Gary Browne and his new business partner last night. Along with Mr. Wilcox, we’re hopeful to climb further up the chain than ever before.”
“And thanks to the persistence of the family, and Mr. Asher,” Detective Schultz nodded to Brad, “we’ve established a connection between the Kenosha construction company and Browne’s new partner.”
Kenosha. Beel. Names fell into place like the final pieces of a puzzle for Laura. Brad’s college friend, Beel, pushed the right rock to expose Scott’s killer as well as the case in her family. Still, the picture remained blurred, as if she looked though a wrong pair of glasses. “Why?”
“Greed,” Daryl replied.
“Fear of exposure.” Sheriff Bergstrom underlined a word on her pad. “Mr. Wilcox requested a lawyer after surgery. The good news is that he spoke volumes in the ambulance and my deputy got it all on tape. According to his own words, Scott Tanner wasn’t his first murder for hire. I don’t think he trusted his ability to keep his secret while living in such a small community with you.”
“Is it over?” Laura managed to get Wilson to look at her directly.
“Prosecutors in three different jurisdictions have it now. We’re talking multiple arraignments and hearings for certain. It may or may not go to trial.”
“Will my husband get justice?” The heat and moisture of determination bathed Laura’s back. She collected nods as she scanned the other faces until she reached the final one. “Uncle Daryl?”
He sighed enough to overwhelm the silence. “How are you defining it today?”
“It’s a good system, Mrs. Tanner.” Wilson pushed a mint in her direction. “Good. Not perfect.”
She swallowed back an objection at anything less. Confession. Trial. No matter how long it took or what the final outcome in the justice system it wouldn’t bring Scott back. Her hand moved to her chest, found the lump of rings, and stayed as if to protect Scott’s memory.
“You may stay as long as you wish.” The sheriff pushed back her chair, collected Laura’s statement, and nodded to the detectives. “We have official calls to make.”
“Of course.” Laura counted them as they departed. One didn’t leave. A quick glance to her right and she found Brad sitting with his head propped on his hand staring at her profile.
I will not cry. I will not make a scene.
She gazed at the second hand on the plain wall clock during one complete revolution and a portion of another before she reached behind her, fumbled the chain out, and released the clasp. The rings and chain glinted in her hand, a jumble of precious memories and metal.
“Where’s the happy? I thought I’d be joyful when they made an arrest.”
“How do you feel?” Brad teased his hook into the chain and began to spread the necklace out for display on the table.
“Empty. Hollow.” She separated out the larger ring and set it over her index finger. With each millimeter it slid down she felt her heart accept what her brain learned that New Year’s Eve in Scott’s office. Her marriage was over. It ended with her husband’s final breath.
She rotated the ring once. Thank you for our yesterdays together. She tipped her hand, returned the wedding band to its companion and chain. “Are you going to play psychologist now?”
“Friend. Listening post. Big Ears Brad didn’t go away completely.” He wiggled his ears and grinned.
She couldn’t help it. Tension released in a giggle before growing into a genuine laugh.
“You have a beautiful smile, Goldilocks.”
“Not so bad yourself, Mr. Park Ranger.”