A car accident fatality near the campus kept Dale busy through the evening. When he finally made it home it was after midnight.
He had expected Emily to be angry at him for being late, but instead found her preparing one of his favorite meals for next night’s dinner, the Scandinavian specialty dish called lutefisk. One of Emily’s art students, Traci Muller, a sophomore from Minot, was at the house helping. The girl had been to a party earlier and was approached by someone offering heroin to sample.
“I called Ms. Hehn because I know you’re a detective,” Traci said. She was an athletic girl with brown hair and glasses. She wore a college sweatshirt and dungarees. “Ms. Hehn mentioned it to our class that you were handling the investigation of Nathan Barron’s overdose,” she added. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Thank you for coming forward,” Dale said. He had just poured himself a glass of milk. He sat at the kitchen table across from the girl. “Tell me what happened.”
“She’s a little concerned about this, Dale,” Emily said. “About her name being circulated. She was at a party and called here around ten o’clock. She was afraid to go home.”
Dale held up his right hand. “It’ll stay right here. I promise. Unless you’re talking to somebody else. Have you?”
Traci shook her head no. “Just my mother. And I had to stop because she was getting all weird on me.”
“I understand,” Dale said. “Tell me what happened.”
The girl explained how she’d gone to a party for the basketball team and how there were several people from the Air Force base there.
“Friends of the players?” Dale asked.
“Mostly,” Traci said. “The guy that approached me is a friend of Stephan Barker. I think they knew each other from back home.”
“He’s one of the stars on the team, right?”
“One of the captains, yes. But I know he isn’t a druggie. He’s, like, one of the nicest guys at the university. He doesn’t do drugs at all.”
Dale nodded. “How did his friend approach you?”
Traci blushed. Dale looked to Emily.
“It’s alright,” Emily said. “Dale won’t pass judgment.”
Dale was confused. “Traci?”
The girl spoke while she looked at the table. “We were making out,” she said. “In one of the bathrooms.”
“And?”
Traci looked up again. “His name is Chris,” she said. “He’s from New York. He’s in the Air Force.”
“And?”
“He showed me some of the heroin he had with him,” Traci said, again without looking at Dale. “He asked me if I wanted to try some. He said we could snort it or use a syringe. He had a syringe with him. He had a few of them.”
“And?”
“It scared me. I told him no. When he tried to kiss me again, I pushed him away. I was really scared. I wanted to leave.”
“You’re a smart girl,” Dale said.
“I wouldn’t have done anything more with him,” she said. “Not tonight. Not after seeing the drugs and all.”
“It’s okay,” Emily said. She put a hand on Traci’s left shoulder. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Did he sell any drugs while you were there?” Dale asked.
“No,” Traci said. “Not that I know of.”
“And he’s from the base?”
“Yes, I think so. I’m pretty sure. Like I said, he’s friends with some of the guys on the team. I think his last name is Ryan, but I’m not sure. I thought one of the other players called him Ryan. He introduced himself as Chris.”
Dale wondered who else was at the party. He asked about the black man with the face mask, but Traci didn’t recognize the description.
“What about a man named Ahearn?” he asked. He held one hand up high. “Big guy, about six two or so? Curly blond hair, thick beard, kind of mean-looking?”
Traci remembered him from the description of his hair and beard. “Yes!” she said, somewhat excited. “He was there. He showed up as we were leaving.”
“As you and the guy with the heroin were leaving?”
Traci was confused a second, then shook her head. “Oh, no, not him,” she said. “I meant my girlfriend, the one I went there with. The big guy said something to Sarah, my girlfriend, as we left.”
“What did he say?” Dale asked.
“It was rude.”
“It’s okay.”
“It was about her breasts.”
Dale looked to Emily. “Only he didn’t call them breasts, right?”
“No,” Traci said, “he didn’t.”
* * * * * * *
Dale dropped Traci Muller off and headed back to the party where she’d been earlier on Tenth Avenue Northwest. He could see lights in the house from half a block away. It was a few minutes after one o’clock in the morning. The party appeared to be going strong.
He decided to wait a few minutes to see if John Ahearn was still inside. He parked at one end of the block and walked back and forth to keep warm. He was on his second trip when Dale saw Ahearn and a woman walking away from the front door. Ahearn was counting money. The woman was stumbling until Ahearn helped her.
Dale watched as the two got into a pickup parked in the curb a few doors from where the party was still going on. They sat there a while before the engine started. Dale noticed one of the rear taillights wasn’t working. He returned to his car and called for patrol backup. He instructed a patrolman to stop the pickup once it turned onto Broadway. He would follow and block off any attempt Ahearn made to escape.
* * * * * * *
“Your wife is flying on heroin,” Dale told John Ahearn half an hour later.
“Fuckin’-A right, she is,” Ahearn replied. “No wonder they gave you a badge.”
They were at the Minot police station. Mrs. Ahearn had been taken to the emergency room at Trinity Medical Center. John Ahearn sat across from Dale’s desk and leaned both elbows on his knees.
“You were carrying more than seven hundred dollars in cash,” Dale said. “In small bills.”
“That’s not against the law,” Ahearn said.
“Where did your wife get the heroin, sir?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did someone at the party sell it to her?”
“Fuck do I know? Ask her.”
Dale shuffled papers on his desk. “Right now, your wife doesn’t know what planet she’s on.”
“I guess you’re out of luck then.”
Both men stared at each other. A short man with a full head of gray hair was ushered into the room. Dale frowned at the sight of Henry Becker, Ahearn’s attorney.
“John, shut up!” Becker yelled. He was pointing a finger at his client from across the room.
“Yes, sir,” Ahearn said, all smiles then.
“Officer, this interrogation is over,” Becker told Dale.
“Detective,” Dale said.
Becker stood alongside his client. “Detective? Fine. Then you should know better. No more questions.”
“We’re still booking his wife when she gets out,” Dale said.
“Not my concern,” Becker said. “I understand you stopped Mr. Ahearn for some traffic violation. Is that correct?”
“Turning without a signal,” Dale said. “I was behind him. I radioed the nearest patrol car.”
Becker smirked. “That just happened to be in the exact same area at one o’clock in the morning? That’s rich. And you were doing what there? In the same area, I mean.”
“My job,” Dale said.