Blood Hollow

9

Cork came home to disaster. Rose was leaving. She had a suitcase packed and sitting beside the front door. The children were gathered around her, looking at her with sad eyes.

“You’re going somewhere?” Cork said.

Rose opened her purse to double-check the contents. “Ellie Gruber called. Her sister broke a hip. Ellie’s going to stay with her for a while to help out. She asked me if I’d be willing to take care of things at the rectory until she’s back.”

“A broken hip,” Cork said. “That could be quite a while.”

“It could be.”

Rose didn’t seem concerned, but to Cork-and to the children, judging by their faces-it felt as if the O’Connors were being orphaned.

“Where’s Jo?”

Rose snapped her purse shut. “Working late. Don’t worry. Meat loaf and potatoes are in the oven. Green beans are on the stove. A list of meals for the week is posted on the fridge. You girls know your way around the kitchen, and I expect you to help take care of things while I’m gone. And, Stephen, there’s plenty you can do, too.”

Rose wore a green print dress, a plain thing that gave little definition to her plump body. Her dust-colored hair was brushed but, as always, still looking a little ruffled. She wore no makeup. She wasn’t a woman particularly beautiful to the eye, but to anyone who knew her, her beauty was obvious in many ways.

She looked at the children, at the funereal expressions they wore, and she laughed. “For goodness’ sake, I’m not dead. I’m just going over to the rectory at St. Agnes. You’ll do fine.”

In the gloom of the gathering dark outside, Father Mal Thorne pulled up to the curb in his yellow Nova, parked, and walked to the house. Rose opened the door to him.

“Evening, Cork. Kids,” Mal said. “Thanks for doing this, Rose.”

“No problem, Father.”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s necessary, but Mrs. Gruber, you know how she is.”

“Ellie’s absolutely right. You can’t take care of everything, especially with Father Kelsey to consider.”

Mal was only one of the priests who lived at the rectory. Father Kelsey was the other, a man long past the age when he should have retired. In serving the parish in Aurora and the mission on the Iron Lake Reservation, most responsibilities fell to Mal.

“I appreciate this.” He glanced at the faces of the children. “And I appreciate what you’re all giving up, too.”

Jo’s Toyota swung into the driveway and stopped quickly. Jo got out and hurried to the house.

“Oh, good. I didn’t miss you.” She hugged her sister. “You take good care of the Fathers.”

“And you take care of things here.”

“We’ll be fine,” Jo said.

Rose hugged and kissed each of the children and Cork, then said to the priest, “We’d best be off. Have you eaten?”

He picked up her suitcase. “I figured we could scrounge something from the refrigerator.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure Ellie has the shelves well stocked. I’ll put together a decent meal.” She turned back at the opened door. “Bye, dears.”

The children lifted limp hands in farewell.

Jo closed the door and laughed when she saw the look on their faces. “My God, you’d think she was going to the other side of the world. Come on, let’s get dinner on the table.”

As the children headed toward the kitchen, Jo turned to Cork. “Did you talk with Dot?”

“Yes. And Solemn.”

“Solemn? You found him? Where?”

“He asked me not to say and I gave my word.”

“Is he willing to talk to the sheriff?”

“I don’t know. I told him I thought it was the best thing, but Solemn makes up his own mind. I also told him you’d go with him if he decides to see Soderberg.”

“Good. What about Dot?”

“I called from Alouette, told her Solemn was fine.”

“Thanks.” She put a hand on his cheek. “You’re terrific, you know that?”

“Never hurts to hear.”

When the table was set, they gathered and said grace. It was quiet during the meal.

“How was school?” Jo asked of everyone in general.

Jenny shrugged.

Annie said, “Okay.”

Stevie moved his meat loaf around with his fork. “I miss Aunt Rose.”

“It will only be for a little while,” Cork said. “She’s only a few blocks away. She’ll come to see us, and you can visit her at the rectory anytime you want.”

There was a knock at the side door. Cork got up to answer it. In the kitchen, he flipped the switch to the light outside and opened the door. Solemn stood there blinking, darkness hard against his back.

Solemn looked at Cork, then past him. “Is Mrs. O’Connor here? I’m ready to talk to the sheriff.”

Jo practiced law out of an office in the Aurora Professional Building, but she also maintained an office in her home, on the first floor of the O’Connor house. She led the way, and Solemn followed. Cork brought up the rear. When they were all inside, he closed the door behind them.

“Have a seat, Solemn,” Jo said. She switched her desk lamp on, pulled a legal pad and a pencil from her desk drawer, and sat down. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

“No. I don’t want her to know. This doesn’t involve her.”

“She has a different view. But we’ll worry about that later. What we need to try to figure out now is why the sheriff wants to see you. Any idea?”

“He does.” Solemn poked a finger at Cork, who stood near the bookshelves.

“I know what Cork thinks, but I also want to cover any other possibilities. Is there anything that, as your legal counsel, I should know?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re sure?”

“I told you. Nothing.”

“All right. Then let’s think about you and Charlotte Kane. Cork believes the sheriff has come up with something that connects you in some way with Charlotte’s death. Any idea what that might be?”

“No.”

Jo glanced at Cork.

Cork spoke to Solemn. “If Arne’s thinking clearly, he knows there are three essentials in making a case. Motive, opportunity, and a physical connection with the crime.”

Jo said, “Let’s begin with motive. It’s no secret, Solemn, that you and Charlotte were seeing each other for a while last fall.”

“We broke up.”

“When?”

“Couple of weeks before Christmas.”

“Why?”

“You know.” He shrugged.

“I don’t know. Tell me about it.”

“We just broke up, that’s all.”

“Was it a mutual decision?”

“It was Charlotte’s idea.”

“Was she seeing somebody else?”

Solemn shot a dark look at her but said nothing.

“Who was she seeing?”

It was a few moments before he answered.

“I don’t know. Some married guy, I think.”

Jo and Cork exchanged a glance.

“Why do you think he was married?” Jo asked.

“She wouldn’t talk about him. Acted like it was some big secret thing nobody could know about. Married, I figured.”

“Okay. How did you feel about it when she broke up with you?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Motive, Solemn,” Cork said. “Jo’s trying to think like the sheriff so she can stay ahead of him. If he’s pegged you for Charlotte’s death, he has to have a motive. Scorned love is pretty classic.”

“I got over her. Long time ago.”

“Back then though,” Jo said. “How was it?”

“Hard. Okay? It was hard.”

“You loved her?” Jo asked.

“I was into her pretty heavy.”

“Charlotte’s death occurred following a New Year’s Eve party at Valhalla. Were you there?”

“Yeah.”

“Invited?”

“No. I heard about it. I showed up, had a few beers.”

“Did you see Charlotte?”

“Sure.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah.”

“About what?”

“This. That. You know.”

“About the breakup?”

“Yeah. A little.”

“Was it a civil conversation?”

“What’s civil?”

“Like we’re having right now.”

“She didn’t ask me so many questions.”

“Did you raise your voice?”

“It was a loud party.”

“Did you threaten her?”

“I might have called her a bitch. Something like that.”

“Did you touch her?”

“I may have bumped into her. It was crowded.”

“You didn’t touch her in any other way?”

“I took hold of her arm. She pulled away. But that was it, swear to God. Why are you asking all this?”

“When Charlotte disappeared, did the sheriff’s people talk to you?”

“Yeah. They talked to everyone who was at the party.”

“Did you tell them what you told me?”

“Maybe I didn’t say anything about touching her.”

“My guess is that they’re talking with everyone again, this time a little more thoroughly, and I’ll bet if they didn’t know before about your interaction with Charlotte, they know now. I’m just making sure I know what they know. What happened after you argued?”

“I left.”

“What time was that?”

“Around eleven.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Benoit’s Bar. I had a couple more beers there, then took off.”

“They served you?” Cork said. “You’re underage.”

“Like they care.”

“Did anybody see you at the bar?” Jo said.

“Yeah, I could rustle up a few.”

“What time did you leave Benoit’s?”

“Few minutes before midnight. That stupid ball in Times Square hadn’t dropped yet.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Home.”

“Straight home?”

“Straight home.”

“You got there what time?”

“Twelve-fifteen maybe.”

“And then what?”

“Nothing. I crashed. Woke up around noon the next day.”

“Was Dot home with you?”

“No. It was New Year’s Eve. She was out partying with some guys on her crew. Then it snowed and she had a plow to drive. She poked her head in my room when she got home. Six, maybe seven A.M. ”

Jo glanced at Cork.

“What?” Solemn asked.

“Six hours when you were alone,” Cork said. “And nobody to vouch for your actions during that time.”

Solemn took a moment to put it together, then said, “Oh, shit.”

“Motive and opportunity,” Cork said. “But Arne’s got to have something more, something that connects you directly with Charlotte’s death.”

Jo said, “Let’s go find out what.”