The Cold Nowhere

34

‘Seriously?’ Serena said. ‘She really asked if you killed Marty?’

They sat on a bench on the Canal Park boardwalk, near the lineup of tourist hotels. Choppy lake waves splashed over the rocks. ‘I don’t think she believed it, but the fact that she even brought it up tells me how bad things are.’

‘That’s a woman who does not handle rejection well.’

Stride smiled. ‘What woman does?’

Serena punched him in the arm, but she smiled, too. ‘I guess I can’t really take the high road. I asked if you slept with Michaela.’

‘I didn’t, but she and I were close to each other. Too close. I knew she had feelings for me. I should have kept her at a distance, but I couldn’t. Honestly, I didn’t want to.’

‘Did you tell Cindy about it?’

‘No, but I’m sure she knew. I suppose she figured that if I’d cheated on her, I would have told her.’

‘You told me about Maggie.’ Serena murmured.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘What would Cindy have done?’

‘If I’d slept with Michaela? Killed me.’

‘Sounds like I underreacted,’ Serena said. ‘Maybe I should have shot you or something.’

‘Since I know you’re carrying, I’ll say no.’

‘Smart man.’

He stared at the lake. He spotted a ship on the horizon, coming closer. ‘Listen … about last night,’ he said. ‘There were things I should have told you, and I didn’t. I’m sorry for shutting you out again. That was a mistake.’

‘Tell me now.’

He felt her waiting beside him, and he knew what she was waiting for. It’s worse.

‘This isn’t about Michaela,’ he said. ‘It’s about Cat.’

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. ‘Okay.’

‘When she showed up two nights ago, it was a punch in the chest, seeing what’s happened to her these past ten years.’

‘You couldn’t have prevented that, Jonny,’ she said.

‘Yes, I could.’

‘You’re being too hard on yourself. There’s nothing else you could have done to protect Michaela.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘Then what?’

He watched the ship on the lake. Living on the Point, he recognized most of them and knew their names. Even at that distance, he thought the inbound boat was the Paul Genter. It was weighted down, its belly deep in the water. He thought about things passing away and disappearing. Cindy was gone. The house they’d shared was gone.

‘A few days after Michaela was killed, Cindy woke me up in the middle of the night,’ he told Serena. ‘You know we’d been trying to have kids for years. We’d both been tested, and nothing was wrong. She’d been taking fertility drugs. Even so, she couldn’t get pregnant. We’d basically given up.’

Serena slowly brought a hand to her mouth. She was smart. She knew where this was going.

‘Cindy said to me – she said, what if things happen for a reason? Maybe we weren’t meant to have kids of our own. Maybe we were meant to rescue someone else’s child. She asked me what I would think about the two of us trying to adopt Catalina. Make her a part of our lives.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said no.’

‘Why?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. There were lots of reasons. It’s one thing to want a child and to have nine months to wrap your head around the idea of your life changing. It’s another to have a six-year-old dropped into your lap. I wasn’t sure I was ready.’

‘That doesn’t sound like you.’

‘Cindy said the same thing,’ he admitted. ‘She wanted to know the real reason.’

‘Which was?’

‘I just couldn’t handle it. I thought that every time I looked in Cat’s face, I would see Michaela, and I would remember what happened. It was too fresh. Too raw.’

‘There’s no sin in feeling that way.’

‘I’m not so sure. Looking back, it feels selfish.’

‘What did Cindy say?’

‘She said she understood, but I don’t know if she did. We never talked about it again. I thought about it for months. I began to wish I’d said yes, but by then it was too late. Cat was already with the Greens. That fall, Cindy was diagnosed with cancer. At that point, everything else went out of my head.’

He wondered what Serena would say. He didn’t want excuses or sympathy. He wanted someone to blame him the way he blamed himself. He’d made a mistake, and that mistake had cost a girl her childhood.

‘Saying yes would have turned your lives upside down. You couldn’t do that if you weren’t sure.’

‘That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.’

‘Okay, so you regret it. You can’t change the past. What are you going to do now?’

He heard the bells of the lift bridge, clanging through the park like a clarion. The Paul Genter was lined up on the canal. It was a thousand-foot giant, rust red, moving from the lake to the calm port.

‘Now feels like a second chance to make it right,’ Stride said.

Serena leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Well, you know me, Jonny. I’m a believer in second chances.’

He turned, and he wanted to kiss her. Really kiss her. It was a prelude to everything that would follow between them. She saw it in his eyes, and she wanted it, too, but they knew it was too soon. She put a finger on his lips, holding him back. The next step would take time, but it would come.

‘I’m glad you told me,’ she said.

‘I am, too.’

Stride began to get up from the bench, but Serena held him back.

‘One more thing,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Maybe this is important, maybe it’s not. Ten years ago. When you found the bodies. Did anything feel wrong to you about the crime scene?’

He was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Michaela was dead. Marty was dead. He killed her, he killed himself. You’re a cop, you know crime scenes. Did anything feel wrong? The angle of the gun, the position of the bodies, anything.’

‘No,’ Stride said. ‘It felt like what it was. Why?’

Serena shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s just a thought. A panicked little girl can reinvent things under hypnosis, but what if Cat really did hear something that night? What if someone else was in the house when they died?’

*

Stride and Serena heard curses from the hotel room on the third floor of the Lakeshore Inn. Inside, the bottom half of Curt Dickes jutted out from under the bathroom sink. A leaking pipe had soaked his dungarees, and a fine mist made a cloud like a vegetable spritzer.

‘Shit!’ Dickes bellowed.

His arms worked frantically, twisting a wrench. The spray of water diminished, then disappeared. He slid himself out onto the tile floor, shaking water from his hands. When he spotted Stride and Serena over him, he jerked up and banged his head on the underside of the counter.

‘What the f*ck?’ he said, rubbing his skull. ‘You want to give me a heart attack?’

‘I knocked,’ Stride said.

‘Yeah, well, I’m in the middle of something, huh?’ Dickes stood up and threw a couple of white towels onto the puddle on the floor. His greasy black hair was mussed into spikes. In the tight space, his cologne was choking. ‘Did you tell the guy at the desk you were looking for me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shit, thanks a lot. That’s what I need, a visit from the cops while I’m at work.’

‘It’ll be worse if they find out you’ve been setting up their guests with hookers,’ Stride said.

‘You think I’m stupid? I don’t shit where I eat.’ Dickes tugged at his wet shirt and noticed Serena for the first time. ‘Hey, you’re keeping pretty good company, Stride.’

‘I’m with the Itasca County Sheriff’s Department,’ Serena said.

‘Yeah, yeah, I know who you are. Chick cop by way of Las Vegas. You don’t think word gets around? So what do you guys want, anyway?’

‘Let’s talk outside,’ Stride said.

They backed out of the bathroom, and Dickes sat down on the end of one of the two queen beds in the hotel room. Both beds were perfectly made and creased into sharp corners. The television was on, its volume loud, and Stride took the remote and switched it off.

‘Saturday night,’ he said. ‘Where were you, Curt?’

‘This about the two murders? I heard about it. Brandy, huh? Sucks. She was a crazy bitch, but she got plenty of repeat business. She was talented, if you like it rough. Not that it’s my scene, you know?’

‘I said, where were you?’

‘What, you think I had something to do with it? Forget that. Me and my new Fusion, we hit the highway on Saturday. I was at the casino half the night. That’s half an hour away, and their cameras will have me on tape the whole time. You can check it out.’

‘Is there any talk on the street about who killed Brandy?’

Dickes shook his head. ‘Nah, but I hope you get this guy soon. Some of the girls are getting freaked, you know? Like there’s some serial killer going after them.’

Stride sat down next to Dickes. ‘Cat says you set her up with some rich guy at a resort on the north shore. This was about a year ago. I want to know who this guy was.’

Dickes shrugged. ‘I’ve got a bad memory. Customers like it like that.’

‘Curt, this isn’t about pimping anymore. This is a murder investigation. Don’t play games with me.’

The kid’s eyes bounced back and forth between them. ‘Do I get a free pass if I talk?’

‘I’m not handing out deals for anything,’ Stride told him. ‘I’m trying to keep you out of prison for twenty-five years. If this guy had anything to do with these murders, you’re in the middle of it.’

Curt blanched. ‘Look, Lieutenant, I really can’t tell you anything. I don’t know who the guy was.’

‘You didn’t get a name?’

‘I got nothing. Never saw the guy, never saw the driver.’

‘So how’d you set it up?’

‘For posh jobs like that one, I get a text with the specs. What kind of girl, where she gets picked up, what sort of entertainment they need. I text a photo back for approval. If it’s a go, an envelope with cash shows up in my PO box. I get the girl where she needs to be, end of story.’

‘You don’t know who’s texting you?’ Stride asked.

‘It’s a different number every time. I figure they’re using pay-as-you-go phones. No tracks.’

‘What about the limos?’

‘Always unmarked. Smoked windows. Mud over the plates. I can’t tell you who’s behind it, because I don’t know.’

‘Did you get any details from the girls? Where they went, who they saw? Any faces they recognize?’

‘As far as I can tell, it’s never the same place twice. Hotels, motels, resorts. Whoever’s running this is careful, and I don’t ask questions. As for the girls, nobody ever came back and started bragging about whose mushroom they swallowed. I don’t have any names.’

‘How often do you get a job like this?’ Serena asked.

‘Not often. Wish I got more, the money’s great. It’s only been six, eight times in a year. That guy with Cat, he was one of the first.’

‘How come you didn’t mention this to me a couple days ago?’ Stride asked. ‘You talked about bachelor parties and bald Swedes, not limos and secret cash. You’ve been holding out on me.’

‘Come on, you think I’m going to get any more calls if people know I’m talking to you? As it is, I’m probably screwed. My phone hasn’t rung all weekend. And hell, I never thought anybody would wind up dead.’

‘If you get another text, I better be your first call,’ Stride said.

‘Yeah, sure, whatever.’

‘I’m hearing about STDs making the rounds among the Duluth one-percenters. Any of your girls need a doctor?’

‘You think they’d tell me about it?’ Dickes asked. ‘Most of the girls insist on condoms, but some of them will go bareback for a few extra bucks. I don’t want to know the gory details.’

‘I need names of the girls who went on the posh jobs,’ Stride said.

‘You already got two. Cat and Brandy. The other two are real private. College girls who don’t want to advertise, you know?’

‘Names,’ he repeated.

Dickes swore. He gave Stride the names of two more girls. ‘Are we done?’

Stride gestured at the cell phone in his pocket. ‘Your phone, too. Give it to me.’

‘F*ck, no! Are you crazy?’

Stride looked at Serena. ‘Did you hear him admit to solicitation a minute ago?’

‘I did,’ Serena said.

‘Hey, come on, you said you didn’t give a shit about that!’ Dickes protested.

‘I changed my mind. Now give me the phone.’

Dickes yanked it from his pocket and slapped it on the bed. ‘Here, fine. You’re killing me. Now get out of here while I still have a job.’

Serena sat down on the other side of him. ‘Not quite yet. We’re not done. First tell me what you know about Margot Huizenfelt.’

‘I had nothing to do with that! I don’t know what happened to her!’

‘You ever talk to her?’ Serena asked.

‘Yeah, once. That was months ago.’

‘What did she want?’

Dickes hesitated. He bit his lip.

‘Don’t start having memory lapses, Curt,’ Stride told him.

‘Look, she was asking about the same shit as you. Whether I knew about rich guys looking for escorts.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘I told her to get the hell out of my face. I told her jack shit, that’s what I told her.’

‘When did you last see her?’ Serena asked.

Dickes squirmed. The blanket on the bed was wet now, because of his sodden clothes. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘Do you not get what’s going on here?’ Serena demanded. ‘Margot’s missing. She may be dead. If we find out you know something, and you didn’t tell us, do you have any idea what trouble is going to rain down on your head? It’ll make solicitation look like shoplifting a candy bar.’

‘I told you, I don’t know what happened to her.’

‘You know something.’

Dickes’s nervous eyes flicked to his cell phone. Stride didn’t miss the glance. ‘Who’d you talk to, Curt?’

The kid was sweating. He smoothed his hair, and it popped back up. ‘It was the truck, man! I saw Margot’s truck! I just wanted to make sure he knew who she was. That’s it. He told me not to worry.’

‘Who?’ Stride asked.

‘Lenny! I saw Margot driving a new SUV from Lowball’s place on Miller Hill.’

Stride looked at Serena, who nodded. ‘Margot bought a new Explorer a couple days before she disappeared. I talked to the woman who sold it to her.’

‘Well, we better talk to her again,’ Stride said.

‘I’m telling you, it’s nothing!’ Dickes insisted. ‘Lenny told me not to sweat it! Margot bought a truck. That’s all. She didn’t ask anything about hookers!’

‘So I take it Lenny is a regular client of yours,’ Stride concluded.

‘Oh, shit. Oh, shit, I am so screwed.’

‘Focus, Curt,’ Serena told him sharply. ‘When did you see Margot in the new truck?’

‘Like a month ago? I don’t know. It was a Saturday, I think. There was a big concert at the DECC. Lots of business.’

‘Jason Aldean?’ Stride asked.

‘Yeah, that was it.’

‘Where did you see her? What time?’

Dickes rubbed his face in frustration. His sweat mixed with his cologne. The combination was lethal. ‘I don’t know, in the evening. Six, seven o’clock? I was coming out of the Duluth Grill. I saw her in the parking lot, and I made myself scarce, you know? I saw the dealer sticker, though, so I called Lenny.’

‘Was Margot alone?’ Serena asked.

Dickes shook his head. ‘No, she had a woman with her.’

‘Who?’

‘Do I know every f*cking woman in the city? I don’t know! She was short. Skanky. Fake blonde hair.’

Stride was pretty sure he knew who it was. He stared at Serena.

‘Dory Mateo,’ he said.





35

Dory slid her naked body into the bathtub until the scalding water reached her chin. Her skin felt like flame. She gripped the porcelain sides of the tub and endured the heat as sweat poured down her face. When she inhaled, moist steam coated her nose and throat. She kept the lights off in the tiny Seaway bathroom, and there were no windows to the outside. She liked to bathe in the dark. When she was there, she could have been anywhere. A fine hotel. A cruise ship. A house of her own. Not a flophouse toilet.

She pushed her fingers around the edge of the tub until she found a wafer of soap. She extended her arm and ran the soap along her skin, making it slippery. She did her other arm, then her legs, her breasts, her stomach, and her mound. Touching herself brought no arousal. Her desires were long dead.

The water slowly cooled as she lay there. She shivered. She wished Michaela were here with her, so they could talk. So she could explain. In the darkness, she imagined that she could hear the sound of her sister breathing. Her soft laugh. The rustle of her clothes.

‘I betrayed you, bonita,’ Dory murmured to the dark room.

Her sister spoke.

‘You? You could never do that.’

Dory was silent. She couldn’t say it, not even to a ghost. The secret was toxic. She’d confessed to Margot, and now Margot was gone, as if the truth were a deadly virus, killing everyone it touched. She half-wondered if it was Marty. Even dead, he was still destroying lives. Controlling those he hated. Wreaking havoc.

‘I wanted to tell you back then, bonita, but I was too ashamed. And then it was too late. You were gone.’

‘Tell me now, and I will forgive you.’

‘No. You won’t.’

‘Where I am now, there is nothing but forgiveness.’

‘No.’

Dory stood up, dripping water from her body into the tub like rain. She found the towel she’d draped over the sink and used it to dry herself. She stepped out onto the cold floor. Her face brushed the string hanging from the light fixture and she pulled it, squinting at the harshness of the bare bulb. She was alone. Michaela wasn’t there. When she looked down, she saw a millipede crawling near her toes. She kicked at it with her foot, and the bug slithered through the scummy grill of the floor drain.

She stepped into the same panties she’d removed before her bath. She pulled on her jeans and shrugged into a sweater that was scratchy on her bare skin. The leather of her boots was cold. Fully dressed, the fringes of her hair damp, she sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

She’d thought that telling Margot would ease her conscience. When they’d met for dinner at the Duluth Grill, she’d blurted out her secret. She’d told her everything. What she’d done. Why. Her shame, her guilt. Margot hadn’t been surprised at all, not one little bit. Like it made all the sense in the world. Like it was the key to a lock.

For Dory, her confession hadn’t changed anything. All she could think about were ways to wipe her mind clean.

She exited the bathroom into the hallway. It was empty, except for one old man, unconscious and smelly, sprawled in an open doorway. After a while, you didn’t even notice. You held your nose and stepped over them. There was no one else, just him and her. Mornings were quiet here, because everyone was sleeping off the nights.

Dory made her way down the hall. She had the last room, near the window, where gray light streamed from outside. All the doors around her were closed. She reached for the door handle to her apartment, but she stopped without touching it. She didn’t even know why she stopped.

She heard her sister whispering in her head, like a warning. ‘Don’t go inside.’

Dory took a soft step backward and held her breath. Her room was as silent as a church. Beside her, through the hall window, she could see the alley below her. Papers whipped along the street, pushed by a lake wind. That was the problem. Silence. When she went to take her bath, she’d left her bedroom window open to clear out the smoke. She heard no breeze moving about the room now. The window was closed.

Someone was inside, waiting for her.

She backed up from her door. She avoided the drunk in the hall. She passed the bathroom again, moving through the warm steam. She kept going backwards, and when she reached the stairwell, she finally turned around and ran.

In the lobby, she hugged herself and hurried onto Superior Street. She didn’t wait to see if anyone came through the doors behind her. She ignored the greeting from the blind beggar in the lawn chair. She dodged traffic and ran toward the bank across the street and then sprinted when she was out of sight of the building behind her. Behind the bank, she cut into a pothole-filled parking lot and zigzagged through the cars. She crossed Michigan Street and found herself in the dead fields under the freeway. The car tires over her head sounded like stinging wasps.

She kept running. She didn’t look back until she was lost among the railroad tracks near the harbor and she was finally safe. She had no idea where to go, but she knew what she had to do.

She had to tell Cat the truth. And then she had to disappear for ever.