Funeral for a Friend

26

“Kathy Ford?” Maggie said, when the woman answered the door. “My name is Sergeant Maggie Bei with the Duluth Police. I believe you talked to Lieutenant Stride and Detective Serena Stride yesterday, and I was hoping you could answer a few more questions for me.”

The woman smiled politely at her. “Well, look at me. I’m so popular with the police all of a sudden. My neighbors are going to start to wonder.”

“This won’t take long,” Maggie told her.

“Is this still about what happened at the house? About the party?”

“In part.”

Kathy frowned. “Well, I told Jonathan that I didn’t want to get involved. I still don’t. I’m afraid there’s no gold star for trying to do the right thing anymore. If you get involved in a political controversy, it’s like an invitation to have your life ruined. It’s bad enough what they do to victims who come forward, but if you’re a witness, you can expect the same treatment. I was sort of a wild child back then, Sergeant. There are plenty of things from those days that I wouldn’t want to see out in public.”

“I understand that,” Maggie replied, “and if a thirty-year-old accusation were the only thing at stake here, I might not need to bother you. But there’s more. I’m investigating a murder.”

“I don’t see how I can help you with that,” Kathy said, but then she sighed and opened the door. “However, I’ll tell you whatever I can. Come on in.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re about to be assaulted, by the way.”

“What?”

“My dog,” the woman said with a smile.

Maggie followed Kathy Ford into the house’s living room, which faced the street. The woman was right about the assault. A golden retriever galloped into the room and greeted Maggie with a wildly wagging tail, and she was forced to spend several minutes on the floor petting the dog. When she was finally able to take a seat on a sofa and wipe the slobber from her pants, she checked out the open floor plan of the Ford house. The living room and dining room led directly into the kitchen, and the kitchen gave way to a family room at the back. She tried to imagine the space filled with drunk young people and the walls shaking to the beat of Aerosmith.

From where she sat, she could also see stairs with worn carpeting leading to the second floor bedrooms. That was where Devin and Andrea would have slipped away.

And then what happened?

That was the question.

“The house hasn’t changed,” Kathy said, reading her mind. “Even the furniture was the same when I moved back in after my parents died. I’m trying to remodel, but my budget doesn’t go very far.”

“You grew up here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you married, Ms. Ford? Do you have kids?”

“I was married for a long time, but not anymore. I have a son and a daughter. They’re both in college now.”

“I understand you knew Lieutenant Stride’s first wife, Cindy.”

“I did. Cindy and I were good friends a long, long time ago. It was shocking to lose her so young. I’m glad to see Jonathan has bounced back from the loss. Some people never get over those things.”

“It took him a long time,” Maggie said, without going into detail.

“His new wife is beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Well, how can I help you?” Kathy asked. “You said you’re investigating a murder, and I assume you mean that reporter whose body was found recently. As I say, I really don’t know what I can tell you. I told Jonathan that none of the reporters who were looking into the allegations about Devin ever came to my door. That includes the man who was killed. I never talked to anybody.”

“I realize that, but I’m pretty sure that someone talked to Ned Baer — someone who had actual knowledge about the party that happened here. Whoever it is may know something that would be helpful in our investigation.”

Kathy’s dog curled up around her feet, and she reached down and scratched his head. “I’m afraid I have no idea who it could be.”

“Well, the rumors about Devin Card were big news seven years ago,” Maggie said. “I assume there must have been a fair amount of speculation among people who were kids in Duluth in those days. Do you remember talking to any old friends about what happened? Did anyone reach out to you — not reporters, but people who were in your circle from back then?”

Kathy pursed her lips as she thought about it. “A few, yes. Several of us reconnected. Everyone was trading guesses about the identity of the woman who’d made the accusation and debating whether she was telling the truth.”

“Did anyone mention the party here at your house?”

“No. I was paying attention for that, believe me. It didn’t come up.”

“Did you tell anyone about your own suspicions? About what you — discovered — in the bedroom upstairs?”

She shook her head. “Not a soul.”

“You kept the story to yourself?”

“Yes. As I told you, I didn’t want to get involved. Nobody knew.”

“Do you remember talking about it with anyone else over the years?”

“I’m sure I didn’t. I had no reason to. I certainly wasn’t going to tell my parents that I’d allowed a crazy party in the house while they were gone. And when I found blood on the sheets, I didn’t think that anyone had been raped. I just assumed some high school virgin wasn’t a virgin anymore. It was only when I heard the allegations about Devin that I began to think — well, that something else could have happened. It seemed like more than a coincidence.”

Maggie glanced at the stairs. “Do you mind if I see the bedroom where it happened?”

Kathy shrugged. “If you’d like.”

They got up from their seats in the living room, and when they reached the stairs, Maggie looked back to check the angles of sight. The stairs were visible to anyone sitting where she’d been on the sofa, but they would have been invisible to people who were deeper in the house. If Ned Baer had a witness who actually saw Devin and Andrea go upstairs together, that person would have been close by.

“Was it dark?” Maggie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The party. Do you remember, were the lights on or off?”

“It was a party. People were making out. You know what all the songs say. Turn the lights down low.”

Kathy led the way upstairs into a master bedroom that was small compared to what would be found in newer homes. Maggie eyed the queen-sized bed against the wall and the doorway to a small bathroom. On the left side wall, a doorway led outside to a small balcony, and she could see the roof of the garage below it.

“I suppose it would have been dark up here, too,” Maggie said.

“I assume so. The party was late.”

“Is the layout of the furniture basically the same as it was back then?”

“Basically. My parents had their bed on the same wall.”

“You told Stride that you found the door to the balcony open? And someone had thrown up in the sink?”

“Yes. It was pretty disgusting. And like I said, there was blood and semen in the sheets. Not a lot, but enough to give me a clue of what happened.”

“But you never told anyone what you found?”

“No. Literally the first people I told were Stride and his wife yesterday.”

“Were there any rumors after the party? Was anyone talking about assault or rape?”

“No, I never heard anything like that,” Kathy replied. “I’d remember, given what I saw. The word rape would have set off alarm bells with me. I’d like to think I would have talked to somebody.”

Maggie shook her head and tried to figure it out. No one else that Stride and Serena had interviewed had talked about this particular party. Kathy Ford was the only one, and she’d kept quiet about it for three decades. And yet somebody knew. Somebody had talked to Ned Baer and told him what they’d seen. But who?

And why were they staying anonymous?

She realized that she had to say the name. There was no other way to learn more.

“Ms. Ford, do you remember a girl named Andrea Forseth back then? She would have been a few years younger than you. She was still in high school.”

“I don’t remember her, but the name Forseth? Are you talking about Denise’s sister?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I knew Denise had a sister, but I couldn’t have told you her name, and I doubt I would have been able to pick her out in a crowd.”

“Do you happen to remember whether Andrea was at that party?”

“I have no idea. You’d have to talk to her or Denise.”

“Denise says that Andrea was there.”

“Well, if she says so, I assume it’s true. I told you, there were dozens of people in the house, and I was drunk, along with everyone else. I didn’t recognize half the people who were there. When a big party crawl’s going on, strangers show up out of nowhere. Word gets around.”

“Sure.”

“Why are you asking me about Denise’s sister?” Then the woman stopped. Her mouth fell open, and she covered it with her hand. “Oh, no, was it her? Is she the one who was assaulted?”

Maggie said nothing, but her silence was as good as an admission.

Kathy wandered to the balcony door and opened it and stepped outside. She looked shaken by the news. Maggie joined her, and they stood in the warm air above the garage.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Kathy went on. “I had no idea. I mean, it’s not like I even knew the girl, but it’s different when you can put a name to it, you know?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Denise never said anything to me.”

“We don’t think she knew, either,” Maggie said.

“I feel so bad.”

“Were you and Denise close friends?”

Kathy shrugged. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t say close, but we were part of a group that hung out together. I mean, now that I think back, I’m sure I met her sister a few times. Shy, blond, that’s all I remember.”

“Do you think any of your other friends would have known Andrea better?”

“I doubt it. I’m sorry. A difference of three or four years in age doesn’t sound like much now, but when you’re young, it’s practically another generation.”

“Of course.”

“I wish I could be more help, but if Denise doesn’t remember, I can’t think of anyone else who would.”

Maggie nodded. “Well, I appreciate your time, Ms. Ford.”

She turned for the door that led back to the bedroom, but as she did, Kathy put a hand on her shoulder. She still looked chastened by what had happened in her house. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, there’s one other person you might want to talk to. He knew Denise well, so I suppose that means he’d know her sister, too. Probably better than any of our girlfriends, actually. He might remember something.”

“Who’s that?” Maggie asked.

“His name’s Adam. Adam Halka. He owns a motel near the freeway.”

Maggie froze where she was. “Adam Halka knew Denise? And you think he knew Andrea, too?”

“Well, I assume so. Adam would have been at Denise’s house all the time, so he must have known her sister, too.”

“Why was Adam at Denise’s house?”

“He was her boyfriend,” Kathy said. “They were hot and heavy for years, going back to high school. Most of us figured they’d get married after college, but Denise was the restless type. She dropped out of UMD after a couple of years and decided to join the Air Force instead.”

“Do you remember if Adam was at the party that night?” Maggie asked.

“I have no idea. But let me put it this way, I hope not.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Didn’t Stride tell you about Denise and Peter Stanhope having sex? That would have driven Adam crazy if he saw it happen. Although who knows, maybe that’s one of the reasons Denise did what she did. To shove it in Adam’s face.”

“Are you saying Denise cheated on Adam at the party?” Maggie asked.

Kathy shook her head. “Well, technically, no. Denise was a free bird at that point. You see, we were at a concert earlier in the evening, and Denise and Adam had a big fight. Big fight.”

“What were they fighting about?”

“Denise was going into the service in a couple of days, so she told Adam they were over. She broke it off with him right there in front of everybody. He was mad about it. Seriously mad.”