AND BOGART SAID he was on it?” asked Decker.
He and Jamison were walking to a restaurant where they were having dinner with Baker and Caroline Dawson.
Decker had changed into another pair of pants, a clean white shirt, and his worn corduroy jacket with elbow patches, which constituted his most elegant set of clothes. The weather had changed; the temps had dipped into the sixties and the humidity had vanished.
Jamison had on a dark skirt that hit at her knee, ankle boots with zippers on the side and chunky heels, and a white blouse with a jean jacket over it.
“Yes. I talked to him just a bit ago. And since it has to do with the military he was going to call Harper Brown.”
Harper Brown was with the DIA, or Defense Intelligence Agency, and she had worked with them on a previous case.
“Good. Anything on Cramer and why she’s important to the Feds?”
“No. I asked him and he said he had come up empty. Boy, the wind really makes it chilly,” said Jamison as she pulled her jean jacket tighter.
“Two days ago you were complaining about the heat.”
“As I recall, it wasn’t just me complaining.”
As they drew closer to the restaurant, Decker said, “So dinner tonight. What am I supposed to do?”
She looked at him, not in surprise, because she had more or less expected this query.
“Well, first of all try to enjoy yourself. It’s been an intense few days, and even you need to recharge your batteries. Next, be supportive of Stan and Caroline. Don’t go in there thinking that she’s trying to replace your sister.”
“And if I say something stupid?”
“Just think about what you’re going to say before you say it.”
“Easy for you to say,” muttered Decker.
An etched bronze sign next to the front door of the restaurant read MADDIE’S. “That’s her mother’s name,” said Jamison.
“No coincidence there, obviously,” replied Decker.
Maddie’s was on the first floor of a restored brick building with a pair of flickering gas lanterns on either side of the polished wood door.
Jamison glanced at the fiery lanterns and quipped, “Great, more methane.”
Dawson and Baker were at the bar having a drink. Baker was dressed like Decker: khakis, white shirt, and a jacket that had seen better days. Dawson was glammed up in a turquoise dress with a leather belt, black tights, and low heels. Her hair was down around her shoulders. They moved over to their table and sat down.
Jamison looked around at the interior space that appeared both brand-new and very old but was fleshed out with thought and in spots even artistry. “Wow, this is really beautiful. Didn’t expect to see something like this here.” She shot Dawson an embarrassed glance. “I didn’t mean it that way, sorry.”
Decker gave her a funny look, leaned over, and whispered, “Think before you say something.”
Dawson smiled in understanding at Jamison’s remark. “No, I get that. This is actually my baby.”
“What?” exclaimed Jamison.
Baker grinned and said, “She runs the whole place, not her dad.”
“We spoke to your father,” said Decker.
“Why did you need to talk to him?”
“Just routine questioning.”
“So this is really your restaurant?” said Jamison, deftly changing the subject.
“My dad technically owns it but I worked out the financials, did the planning, the build-out, the hiring, everything from the utensil choices to the drapes to the types of gin in the bar. The place has a website and a social media platform, and we also cater and do special events.”
Jamison stared around the crowded space. “Well, if this is any indication, you’ve got a real winner.”
“We’re booked up for the next three months, in fact. It’s pretty much the only fine dining choice in town. I got the chef from Napa Valley.”
Baker added with a chuckle, “We only got a table tonight because she owns the place.”
She laughed and gripped his big hand. “Thing is, my dad thought I was crazy. He said don’t try to make this town into something it’s not.”
“Meaning?” said Decker.
“My father will always see London as a one-horse place that will never rise above that status. Even with all the wealth being generated by the fracking. But I see things differently. I think we’re past the boom and bust cycles. People aren’t just coming here to work and get rich and then get out. They’re coming to stay. I know the weather can be a real challenge, but it is in lots of places. And warmer spots are a short flight away. The point is, if you have nice things here people will want to stay and put down roots. And North Dakotans are nice people. Salt-of-the-earth types.”
“I’m a Midwesterner,” said Decker. “So I agree with that.”
“And with the money that’s here now, people can both afford and appreciate the amenities and service like I’ve tried to offer here.”
“I think it’s terrific,” said Jamison.
Baker raised his glass. “To terrific things.” He nodded at Dawson. “And terrific people.”
After they ordered their dinners Dawson asked about the investigation. “I heard there was another murder and that Hal Parker went missing.”
“That’s right. Pamela Ames. She used to live at the Brothers’ Colony,” said Jamison.
“But why would someone have wanted to kill her?” asked Baker.
“Could be wrong place, wrong time, if Parker was the target.”
“But why would he be a target?” asked Dawson.
Decker said, “Did either of you know Pamela Ames?”
Baker shook his head, but Dawson said, “I worked with Milton Ames on some business matters. I knew Pamela was his daughter, but I wasn’t friends with her.”
“But why was Ames at Hal Parker’s in the first place?” asked Baker.
“They might have known each other,” said Jamison vaguely, shooting a glance at Decker. Shifting gears, she said to Dawson, “We went to see your father at his home. It’s beautiful.”
“After Mom died, we both needed something to occupy our minds. Since we weren’t moving to France without her, I decided building a new home for Dad would be a good thing. Give him something to focus on. He loves getting into the details. He just finished it. Took nearly two years with crews working around the clock.”
“And how did you cope?” asked Decker.
She smiled sadly. “I buried myself in work, too.”
“Your mother died in a blizzard, I understand,” said Decker.
Dawson nodded and rubbed at a ring on her pinky. “From carbon monoxide poisoning in her car,” she said in a low, halting voice.
“What was she doing out in a blizzard in the first place?” asked Decker.
“Alice Pritchard, an elderly neighbor, had called. Her power was out and she was in trouble. She had health problems.”
“Why didn’t she just call 911?” asked Decker.
“My mom would have gotten there faster than the 911 folks. And we had a backup generator, so Alice would have been fine at our house. It had happened before, and each time Alice would call us.”
“But your mother never made it to Alice’s?” said Decker.
“No, and Alice died, too.”
“My God,” said Jamison.
Decker said, “If the neighbor died, how’d you know she had called your mom and that was the reason she was out in the blizzard?”
“My mom had texted me when Alice called. But with the time difference I didn’t see the text until the following morning. The first I knew about it was when they found her in the car after the blizzard had passed.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Jamison as Baker tenderly patted Dawson’s shoulder.
There was a moment of silence until Decker said awkwardly, “Um, your dad said you’ll be running the world before long.”
Jamison eyed Decker nervously, but before she could say anything, Baker chimed in. “Daddy’s perfect little girl.”
Decker noted that Dawson did not seem happy about this remark. “And we understand you had a brother?” he asked, drawing another stern look from Jamison.
She said, “I’m sure Caroline would rather talk about something else.”
Dawson coughed and took a drink of her water. “No, it’s okay. Yes, my brother, Hugh. We called him Junior. He . . . died.”
Decker said, “Joe Kelly told us he and your father didn’t see eye to eye on things. But he wouldn’t elaborate.”
Dawson gazed at Decker with an intensity that made him feel uncomfortable. “Good old Joe. He does like to keep things close to the vest.”
“Was that wrong of him?” asked Jamison.
“No, I suppose he was just trying to shield the family from undue attention. Joe’s always been loyal that way. The fact is, my brother was gay and my father had a big problem with that. He cut him out of the will, out of the business, out of his life. In the end, Junior couldn’t live with it, I guess. So he decided to end his life. He took a bunch of pills. I was the one who found him.” She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.
“Damn, Caroline, I had no idea,” said Baker.
“No reason you should have known. I cared deeply for my brother. We were very close.”
“That . . . that must’ve made things difficult between you and your father,” said Decker.
“We didn’t speak for about a year after Junior died. But then we lost Mom, and . . . and we decided as the only family left we needed to seek a truce. So we did.”
“Do you think the truce will hold?” asked Decker.
She tapped her ring against the wood, as though for luck. “I don’t think I have a choice,” she replied.
Decker said, “Well, like Stan said, I think your father does see you as his perfect little girl.”
Dawson said firmly, “I don’t think there’s any such thing.”
WHEN DECKER AND JAMISON returned to the hotel, they found someone waiting for them.
Shane McClellan rose from a seat in the lobby and came over to them. He was dressed in jeans and an untucked gray shirt. His hair was slicked back and he had a few days’ worth of stubble on his face.
He gazed anxiously from one to the other. “Hal Parker?” he began.
“What about him?” said Decker.
“Heard somebody took him and left a gal dead in his shed.”
“What’s it to you?” asked Decker.
“Hal was one of my best buddies. We would go hunting all the time.”
“We actually saw a picture of you with him at his house on one of those hunting trips,” said Jamison.
“Do you know what happened to him?”
Decker said, “We’re working on it. Mind if we ask you some questions now that we know you two were friends?”
“Sure, whatever I can do to help.”
Decker led them over to a seating area next to the lobby. When they were settled in he said, “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Two days after he found that woman’s body. I went out to his place to pick up some stuff and he told me about it. It shook him up bad.”
“Did he tell you about the wolf he was tracking?”
“Yeah. He was hunting it when he found the lady.”
“Did Parker know a woman named Pamela Ames?”
Shane’s brow furrowed. “No, not that I know of. Is she the gal they found dead there?”
“She was. Now, what we found might point to Ames having been there for paid sex. Knowing Parker, do you think that’s plausible?”
“Hal? A hooker? No way. Why the hell would you even think that?”
“We found some evidence that suggests it might have been the case,” said Decker vaguely.
Shane folded his arms over his chest and looked at them stubbornly. “Well, I’ll never believe that. Hal liked to hunt and fish and drink his beer. And that was about it.”
“When you saw Hal, was he worried about anything?”
“Not that he mentioned. He was upset about the lady and all, but that was it. We were planning on doing some hunting soon. He was excited about that.”
“I’m surprised you have time considering all the things you’re doing with your father,” interjected Jamison. “He seems to keep you pretty busy.”
“He’d keep me busy every minute of the day if I let him, but I got a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” asked Jamison.
“I don’t give a shit about what he really cares about, which is making money from pulling oil out of the dirt.”
“You have a farm?” said Decker. “Near the Air Force station?”
“That’s right.”
“You know the Brothers?”
“Yeah, good folks.”
“You go out there at all?”
“Sure. They do metal fabrication. We use some of what they make in our fracking operations. Plus they have a lot of trucks, and we pay them to haul stuff for us.”
“Did you know Irene Cramer?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Jamison said, “Are you and Caroline friends?”
“We grew up together, me, her, and Joe Kelly. Went to high school together. We were sort of inseparable back then.”
“Right, Kelly told us some of that.”
“Joe and I were on the football team. He was the starting QB and I was his best receiver.” A grin slowly spread over Shane’s features. “I caught forty-five touchdown passes from him over two seasons and we won the state title both years. And not to sound boastful or anything, but we were really popular in high school. Best times of my life. Got up every day with a smile.”
“And now?” said Jamison.
“Now we don’t see each other much. Caroline’s busy with running all her dad’s stuff. And Joe being a cop, he doesn’t keep regular hours.” He added wistfully, “Sort of miss those days. Long gone now.”
“But you like Caroline?” said Jamison.
He looked down. “Hell, everybody likes Caroline. Used to have these fantasies that we got hitched and had a bunch of kids.” He paused. “She and Joe even dated in high school. Thought for a while that they were going to get married.” He grinned weakly. “Only thing I ever hated about the guy. Caroline seemed to like him more than me.” He paused. “Me and Joe used to be best friends, together all the time.”
“What happened?” asked Jamison.
“Life . . . life happened,” said Shane sadly. “We’re still buds. Just not like before. Nothing’s like it was before,” he added wistfully.
“That tends to be the case with everybody,” opined Decker.
“We just came from dinner with Caroline,” said Jamison.
“Is that right? At her newfangled place?”
“Yes, Maddie’s, named after her mom.”
“Damn shame what happened to her.”
“Yes, it was a real tragedy,” noted Jamison.
“So Joe became a cop, Caroline went to college, and you joined the Army,” said Decker.
“That’s right.”
“How long were you in?”
“Long enough to do and see things I’ll remember till the day I die,” Shane said sharply. “Don’t get me wrong. I was proud to do my duty, but I was glad to put it behind me. I had buddies who died or lost limbs. After that, I came back here.”
“You ever see any strange activity over at the Air Force complex?”
“Strange?”
“Just anything out of the ordinary.”
“Not really. They got a lot of security over there. Locals call the radar over there the eye in the sky. Used to look for nukes, so I heard. Thing’s been there since before my dad was born.”
“You ever been over there?”
“Nope. Why all the questions about them?”
“Just routine.”
“So what can I do to help find Hal?”
“You’ve helped us by telling us what you did.”
“So that’s it? Nothing more I can do?”
“Not unless you have any information about who might have killed Irene Cramer and Pamela Ames.”
Shane shook his head. “I guess I can see why not a damn thing gets done in DC.”
Jamison said, “We’re working hard on this, Shane. But it’s not easy.”
“Yeah, okay, I guess,” he said offhandedly. “Well, see you around.”
He walked off.
Decker said. “He was pretty certain that Hal Parker would never hire a prostitute. But I think that—”
Decker had stopped so abruptly and looked so out of sorts that Jamison snapped, “Decker, what is it?”
“We’ve got to go.” He turned and started hustling to the door.
“Go? Go where?”
He called over his shoulder, “To see a body.”
THE DOORS TO THE FUNERAL HOME were locked, and Decker had to pound on the wood for a full thirty seconds until they saw someone cautiously approach the front entrance. It was a thin, young man dressed as a custodian and holding a mop.
“Yes?” he said from behind the door glass, his features anxious.
Jamison laid her federal badge against the glass and said, “FBI, open this door. Now!”
The man dropped his mop and nearly fell over. He fumbled with the door lock and then jumped back as Decker bulled past him.
“What’s this all about?” cried out the man. “This . . . this is a funeral home, for Pete’s sake. Show some respect. Hey, where are you going?”
Neither of them answered him.
Decker quickly led Jamison to the morgue room and opened the door. He looked at the wall of drawers where the bodies were kept until he saw the name “Ames” on a notecard taped to one of them. He opened the door and slid out the gurney. Decker lifted off the sheet, revealing the naked body of Pamela Ames.
“What are we looking for, Decker?” said Jamison anxiously.
“Where do you think her clothes are?” he said distractedly.
“I would imagine back at the police station in the evidence locker. I know that Kelly collected them for analysis.”
“Call Kelly up and tell him to bring all that over here.”
“Okay, but I’d like to tell him a reason.”
“Tell him that Ames and not Parker may have been the real target.”
Jamison had worked with Decker long enough not to question a statement like that. She went off to a corner to make the call.
Decker looked over the body and then glanced around and spotted a file folder on another table. He picked it up and leafed through it, quickly finding that it contained Walt Southern’s preliminary notes on the postmortem he’d performed on Ames.
He read through all the notes and then walked back to the body, carrying the folder with him.
Jamison joined him. “He’s getting the clothes and heading over. He was at the station, so it won’t be long.”
Decker nodded absently as Jamison looked down at the body.
“So what did you mean by Ames being the target?”
“Look at the body, Alex. Lividity sets as quickly as thirty minutes after death, and then permanently after about two hours. Southern gave us that speech before with respect to Cramer’s postmortem, not that we didn’t already know that.”
“Right, he did.”
Decker pointed to the body’s waist, chest, and thigh areas. “Once livor mortis is completed, and the blood settles, if the body comes into contact with a mechanical pressure of any kind, blood can’t collect there and the skin remains pale. Now, we found Ames facing forward in a prone position over the handlebars of the ATV. After she died gravity would have forced the blood in that direction once her heart stopped. But even before lividity was fixed, the tight clothes she was wearing would act as multiple pressure cuffs. But do you see any paleness in those areas because the blood couldn’t get there?”
“No, they’re purplish and red.” She glanced sharply up at him. “Which means she was killed and then, sometime later, she was dressed in the clothes she was found in. Did Southern note any of that in his report?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Then Ames wasn’t a hooker?”
“They tried to fool us by clothing her like that.”
“How does that connect to Cramer?” asked Jamison.
“She certainly would have known Cramer from the Colony. What if when she left the Colony she went to Cramer for help? A place to stay, to get some money? And what if Cramer confided in her, something that disturbed Ames? Then Cramer ends up dead and is found by Parker. What would Ames have likely done in that situation?”
Understanding broke over Jamison’s features. “You mean Ames might have gone out there to ask Parker about his finding the body? Maybe hoping he could tell her something that would help her figure out what had happened? Especially if, like you said, Cramer had already told Ames something disturbing.”
“Only someone got wind of it and went there to stop it. And as we saw, they obviously succeeded.” He glanced at the report again. “And you remember the bottle of wine and two glasses?”
“What about them?”
“Ames’s stomach contents show no signs of any wine. So how could that be if she had been drinking wine with Parker?”
“So that was staged.”
“It was all staged.”
“But why kill her and take Parker?”
“To make us think exactly what we did. That he was the target and she wasn’t. That she was wrong place, wrong time only. And they couldn’t let Parker go after that. Not if he saw what they did to Ames.”
Jamison let out a breath. “Damn. So where’s Parker then?”
“I really wouldn’t count on us ever finding him alive.”
“God, Decker, this is really spiraling out of control.”
“They’re trying to tie up loose ends, Alex. But that cuts both ways. Every time they do stuff like this, they risk leaving something behind that will allow us to catch them.”
“But how many more people have to die before we do catch them?”
Decker stared down at Ames’s body and didn’t answer, because he had no answer to give.