Minot, North Dakota
Pavlik checked in at a hotel close to the Minot airport. Lawrence Welk smiled at him from a big picture over the front desk in the lobby. Twenty minutes later, he settled into his room, turned on the news, and scanned the local newspaper for anything resembling a police blotter. He looked up from the paper at the television when he heard: An Air Force soldier was found murdered outside of Velva early this morning. Tyrone Williams, a twenty-five-year-old airman from Atlantic City, New Jersey....
Pavlik listened intently. When the story about the murdered airman finished, he turned the television off and searched the newspaper for anything else suggesting James Singleton was in Minot.
After going through the bulk of the paper, he found something about a college student who had recently died from a heroin overdose. The university was holding a candlelight celebration for the life of the nineteen-year-old Detroit native later in the evening. A Detective Dale Hehn was handling the investigation.
Pavlik circled the end of the article with a pen and underlined the name Dale Hehn. If all else failed, he’d have to give the detective a call.
* * * * * * *
They had sex while the surprise dinner Dale had cooked for her warmed. Dale tried his best to be slow and deliberate, but Emily had kept her garter outfit on. He was too excited. She did her best to control his pace, but it was over sooner than either had wanted it to end.
“I love that roast of yours,” he said when she was up and headed to the bathroom. “Or is it your rump?” he asked when she returned wearing an open robe minus the garters.
They kissed again when he was out of bed. He groped her through the robe and let go when the telephone rang. Dale stopped before he picked up.
“You expecting anybody?” he asked.
Emily shook her head. Dale answered the phone.
“Hello?”
It was Don Ekroth. “I hope you ate dinner already,” he said.
“Just about to.”
“Then you might want to finish before you come see this.”
“What is it?”
“Yet another body.”
“You serious?”
“Some woman. Young woman. She was dressed for a spring afternoon in the middle of winter. She’s an icicle now.”
“Can it wait?”
“Until spring before she thaws.”
“I’ll see you after I eat then,” Dale said.
“Enjoy your supper,” Ekroth said.
* * * * * * *
Pavlik went down to the bar to fish for information there. A sign in the lobby advertised a former Miss North Dakota as one of the bartenders. It read: “Have a drink with Marsha Nordstrom, our own former Miss North Dakota.”
Pavlik wondered what year it was Marsha Nordstrom had won the state pageant as he sat at the bar. She looked to be no more than thirty-five or so.
“Miss North Dakota?” he asked.
“Marsha,” the bartender said. “And, yes, I was Miss North Dakota. Back in the 1990s but that’s as close to a date as you’ll get. Obviously, it wasn’t a life-changing event. So, please, don’t tell me how cool it is.”
“Can I have a beer?” Pavlik asked.
Marsha Nordstrom squinted at Pavlik. “Sure,” she said. She laughed to herself as she poured him an Olympia.
“It is pretty cool, though,” he said. “You’re my first Miss anything.”
She pointed at the beer and rapped the bar top with her knuckles. “That’s with me,” she said. “Just for getting me to smile. I can use it today.”
“Cheers,” Pavlik said as he toasted her.
“That an East Coast accent?”
“New York.”
“What brings you to Minot?”
“Visit a friend.”
She examined him a moment. “What’s his name?”
“Kincaid,” Pavlik said. He picked up a menu and glanced through it. “What’s good?” he asked.
“Nachos,” she said. “Or the bacon burger, if you like bacon. The pizza isn’t too good. I’d avoid that.”
“Let me ask you something about the pizza here,” Pavlik said. “I saw some pictures of it in the newspaper and on some posters at the airport in Bismarck. What’s with cutting it? Why would you use a knife and fork on pizza?”
“I heard they fold it back East,” Marsha said. “I don’t know, tell you the truth, but it’s been like that since I can remember. I’d avoid it anyway, though, if you’re hungry.”
“I like bacon,” Pavlik said.
“Bacon burger?”
“With well-done fries, please.”
“Hey, I like them crispy, too, my fries.” She put the order into the kitchen through an intercom before returning.
“It true some kid overdosed on heroin at the college?”
“You know about that?”
Pavlik pointed at a newspaper on the bar. “I read something in there, I think. Minot Daily News?”
“Weird, huh? I’m friends with the detective assigned to the case.”
Pavlik sipped his beer again. Marsha glanced at his fingers. Pavlik checked his watch.
“I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you look like police?” Marsha said.
Pavlik shook his head. “Insurance,” he said.
Marsha tilted her head to one side. “Really?”
Pavlik shrugged apologetically. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. Just let me know when I’m being too nosey.”
“No problem. I get it at home, too.”
Marsha was caught off guard. “Geez, I didn’t see a ring. I was getting my hopes up.”
Pavlik blushed bright red.
“I-uh, I’m, uh, not married,” he managed to stutter.
“Neither am I,” Marsha said.
“Huh?” Pavlik said. “She’s my girlfriend,” he was able to add.
“I see.”
He was getting nervous. “And she’s not that bad, really. I mean, about the questions. Just involved. That sounds better, right? She’s involved.”
Marsha nodded.
“She means well,” Pavlik added.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
Pavlik said, “Let me know if I sound like a jerk.”
Marsha said, “Not at all, but you sure do look like the law.”