Spilled Blood

42

The house in St. Croix was empty. Hannah wasn’t home. Neither was Olivia. Chris stood on the porch with his hands on his hips. Water pounded on the metal gutters, and the wind felt like ice on his wet clothes. He was alone in the rain, with nothing but the gauzy orbs of house lights dotting the streets. The town felt abandoned.

He’d spent years in the city, surrounded by people. The empty land of the country had always scared him. Now he realized he’d been a fool. Being with Hannah, being with Olivia, had changed everything. The only thing that mattered was for them to be safe. With him. What scared him more than anything was the idea of losing them again.

He walked through the downpour to the St. Croix church. Inside, he called for Glenn Magnus, but no one answered. The downstairs lights were dark. He heard the vibration of the bells, humming in the wind. He checked the sanctuary, which was lit only with dim wall sconces, and he almost missed the single worshipper on her knees in the pew nearest the altar.

It was Hannah.

He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he wondered what she said to God in her private thoughts. He’d never been a believer himself, but she always told him she prayed for him anyway. For him, for Olivia, for her family, for her town, for the women and children who had no one on their side. He tried to imagine whether she had added herself to the list now, but he didn’t think so. That wasn’t Hannah. She would pray for everyone else, but not for herself.

He stared at the cross hanging over the altar, and the thought came to him unbidden. Save her. He didn’t think anyone was listening, and he didn’t imagine he was first on the list for answered prayers. He thought it again anyway. Save her.

Hannah felt his presence. She saw him at the front of the church, and her face lit up in a smile. When she saw him now, she didn’t think immediately of the past, the pain, the break-up, the murder, the fear. For a millisecond, those things didn’t exist, and she simply reacted with a brief, instinctive moment of joy at the sight of him. He smiled, too.

They met halfway in the aisle.

‘You’re late,’ she said. ‘I was worried.’

‘I’m fine.’

She stared into his eyes as if she were looking for something. ‘You didn’t go back there, did you?’

‘Where?’

‘To Kirk’s.’

‘Of course not.’

Her face softened with relief. ‘I’m glad. I didn’t think you would.’

‘Why do you ask?’

Hannah hesitated. ‘We need to talk.’

‘I know. There’s a lot I need to tell you. I may know what happened to Ashlynn.’

She glanced at the doors to the sanctuary. Her eyes were nervous. ‘Tell me quickly. We don’t have much time.’

‘Why not? What’s going on?’

‘They’ll be coming soon.’

‘Who?’

‘The police.’

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Is Olivia okay?’

‘She’s fine.’ Hannah pulled him gently into an empty pew. ‘Tell me what you found out.’

Chris struggled to arrange his thoughts. ‘Ashlynn told Tanya Swenson that she had proof that Florian and Mondamin were involved in what happened in St. Croix. She suspected her father of orchestrating a cover-up. Somehow it involved not only Vernon Clay but Lucia Causey, too.’

‘The special master in the litigation?’ Hannah asked. ‘You think she falsified her report?’

‘Florian has long arms,’ Chris said.

‘Lucia’s dead. She committed suicide last year, but Ashlynn thought she was murdered.’

Hannah shook her head. ‘What did Ashlynn find out?’

‘I’m not sure, but I can think of two people who would want to make sure she didn’t tell anyone.’

‘Who?’

‘One is this man Aquarius. He left a trail that leads to Vernon Clay and Lucia Causey. If Ashlynn found out who he was, he might have decided to stop her from getting in the way of his plans.’

‘What plans?’

‘That’s the problem. Nobody knows.’

‘Who’s the other?’ Hannah asked.

‘Kirk Watson.’

She tensed and glanced at the closed doors of the church again. ‘Kirk’s dead.’

‘What?’

She didn’t stop to explain. Something made her bolt to her feet. Chris stood up, too, and he heard sirens wailing on the highway. It was just as she’d predicted. The police were coming.

‘What’s going on?’ he said.

Hannah pulled him toward the front of the sanctuary. ‘Don’t say anything to them, Chris. Not yet.’

They exited into the church lobby. Outside the glass doors, three squad cars from the sheriff’s department screeched to a stop on the street. The sirens were loud enough to make him cover his ears, and then they cut off into stark silence. The light bars revolved on the tops of the cars. Silver rain blew sideways as officers in yellow slickers climbed out of the vehicles and headed for the church steps.

He saw someone else with them. A man in a black trench coat with a fedora. It was Michael Altman.

Chris and Hannah stayed in the lobby as the county attorney came inside from the rain. His face was dark. The police officers with him filed downstairs. Chris didn’t think they were looking for the church party room. They were heading for Johan’s apartment.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Hawk,’ Altman said, dusting water from his hat. ‘You always seem to be around when I have trouble.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Chris asked.

‘I’m looking for Johan Magnus.’

‘Why? What’s going on?’

‘Someone murdered Kirk Watson this evening.’

Hannah stiffened but said nothing. Chris found that his own heart was ice-cold. He didn’t care that Kirk was dead. He only cared about protecting Olivia. ‘How did it happen?’

‘Someone hit him in the head,’ Altman said, ‘and then finished him off with two gunshots. One to the head, one to the genitals. Very personal.’

Hannah covered her mouth. Chris felt queasy, too. Altman watched both of them carefully, studying their reactions.

‘That sounds like someone with a grudge,’ Altman added. ‘Like maybe someone whose daughter had been assaulted recently.’

‘You think I did this?’ Chris asked.

‘I don’t know, Mr. Hawk. Where have you been this evening?’

‘Out.’

‘Alone?’

‘Mostly.’ He didn’t want to get George Valma into more trouble by calling on him for an alibi. He also hoped that the rain had long ago washed away any evidence that he’d been outside Kirk’s window the previous night.

‘Doing what?’

‘Researching Lucia Causey,’ Chris said.

‘Check my phone records. You’ll find that I’ve been making inquiries about her for most of the last two hours. You can probably get a track on my laptop Internet settings, too. I’ve been hooked up to a limited-range wireless network in Barron. Feel free to check it out.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Altman said. ‘We found the murder weapon. It was a revolver. The cylinder had four spent casings, but only two shots appear to have been fired at the scene. Does that suggest anything to you?’

Chris knew what Altman meant.

‘We think it was the same gun that was used to kill Ashlynn Steele,’ the county attorney went on. He frowned and asked pointedly, ‘Where’s your daughter? I’d like to talk to her.’

‘She’s in her room,’ Hannah interjected. ‘She’s been there all evening. Whatever’s going on, this doesn’t concern her. Leave her alone.’

She said it calmly and convincingly, but Chris knew it was a lie. Olivia wasn’t in her room.

‘What about Johan Magnus?’ Altman went on. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘No,’ Chris said.

‘You told me Johan was going after Kirk. Did he try to reach you? Did he ask for your help?’

‘He didn’t.’

‘If he had, would you have tried to stop him?’

‘Of course I would.’

Chris could see the county attorney debating whether they were being honest. The man’s frustration showed. ‘I need to find Johan Magnus quickly,’ Altman said.

‘So you can pin a murder charge on him?’ Hannah demanded. ‘Don’t ask us to help you do that. Whoever killed Kirk did the world a favor.’

‘I’m trying to protect the boy, too.’

‘Protect him? Why? From what?’

‘We got a call from Kirk’s brother,’ Altman told them. ‘Lenny Watson told us Kirk had been murdered and where to find the body. He told us Johan was at the scene, covered in blood.’

‘You believe him?’ Chris asked.

‘It doesn’t matter whether I believe him. That’s not the point. When we got to the house, Lenny was nowhere to be found. He’s missing, too, and we’re trying to find him. In his 911 call, Lenny said he was going to avenge his brother. He’s planning to kill Johan.’

‘Where is she?’ Chris asked.

They were back on the porch of Hannah’s house, out of the rain. Hannah left her red umbrella on one of the Adirondack chairs. She beckoned him inside. The house was warm and quiet. She took off her raincoat and peered through the windows at the church, which was still a hive of police activity. No one had followed them. No one was watching them.

‘Is she here?’ he asked again.

Hannah pointed at the closed door that led down into the basement. ‘She came to me for help. They both did. I wasn’t going to say no, Chris.’

‘Jesus, Hannah. Tell me she wasn’t at Kirk’s house tonight.’

She said nothing, but he knew that was exactly where Olivia had been. He opened the basement door. The light was off.

‘Olivia, it’s me,’ he called into the darkness.

He switched on the light and marched down the wooden steps beside the stone blocks of the foundation. Hannah followed him. It was cool and damp under the ground. In the open space, he saw area rugs spread across the hard floor and metal shelves lining the walls. Ductwork made a maze overhead. Mice had found their way under the house; he saw tunnels in the pink insulation.

A shabby blue sofa was pushed against the north wall. During tornado season, it was a place to wait out the storm.

Olivia sat on the sofa with her arm around the waist of Johan Magnus.

Both teenagers looked freshly showered; they wore clean clothes; their skin was pink. They had a blanket over their laps. Chris heard the bang of the drier; their clothes had been washed and were tumbling dry. Hannah had already helped them. She’d destroyed evidence.

Johan didn’t say a word. He looked overwhelmed. Olivia, in contrast, looked in complete control. She was the strong one. The determined one. Her voice, when she spoke, was perfectly calm.

‘Johan didn’t do it, Dad,’ she told him. ‘He didn’t kill anyone. He’s innocent. Like me.’