First Murder (8 page)

“Did you?”

“Shop? My word, yes. Mr. Marland flinched when the statements came, I’m sure. The only movie star we met was Woody Harrelson. That was a severe disappointment.”

“Did you ever have any trouble on the trips? Those are some ah…risky places you’ve visited.”

“Oh, we were always in a group. Well, almost always. And we have Ally.”

“Ally?”

“Allyson Couts. You’ll meet her.”

“Tell me about her. I’d like to hear about all of them, really.”

“Oh no, Rayford. Meet them yourself. Form your own impressions. I’d hate to be the cause of any…friction.” Tony cracked half a smile. He was enjoying the banter.

Ray didn’t push. He realized it would be better if he met them first, developed his own notions. “There’s one other thing. We’d like to get fingerprints from you if we could.”

“From me?” She was surprised. “Whatever for?”

“There were a lot of fingerprints taken at the scene. I assume you’ve been to the house before.”

“Many times.”

“They’re for comparison. It’ll save a lot of time. Have you ever been fingerprinted, Lakisha?” She looked down at her lap, embarrassed. She nodded.

“Fingerprints come to our database from many sources. Armed services, some are given voluntarily, government work…” Ray was trying to shield her from something, Tony sensed.

“Criminal records,” she said, her voice low, the tone resigned.

“Yes, those too.”

“Your
system
already has my fingerprints, Rayford. It was years ago. Many years.”

Ray picked up on her sadness, sensed some sort of defeat in her attitude and tried to give her an out. “The time saving, Lakisha, comes about in that we don’t have to search any of the databases if we give the evidence techs a comparison card. We don’t even have to look. If you would rather not that’s okay too.”

She sighed and held her right hand out to Ray. Tony passed the ink pad and card over. It seemed to him that Ray took a long time and was very gentle in guiding the woman’s long fingers over the pad and card. He saw them looking in each other’s eyes a couple of times. Then Ray took out his handkerchief and gave it to her so she could wipe the ink off her hands.

“Thank you,” she said. Ray passed the pad back to Tony and slipped the card into his jacket pocket.

“I think that’s all the questions I have for now.” Ray stood, offered a hand as Lakisha rose as well. Tony, ignored once again, realized he was on his own. In a tense and awkward silence she led them to the foyer. She was still worrying her stained fingers with Ray’s handkerchief when she turned at the door.

“I know now. I know where I’ve seen you.” Ray looked down at the floor. “It was just last month, at the Dakota.”

The Dakota?
That’s a serious jazz club in Minneapolis, Tony knew, and very upscale. He had never been there. His tastes ran more to Rock and R and B. He cocked an eyebrow at the ever surprising Ray Bankston.

“You were singing with Booker T and the band.”

Booker T and the MG’s?
Motown?

“I’ve known Duck and Steve a long time. They were just being polite.”

“You were good.”

“Thank you.”

“You have to let me know when you’re performing again. I’d like to come.”

“I, ah…don’t perform much anymore. It’s not a regular thing.”

“Pity. I’d like to see you again.” She noticed the hint of a smile on Tony’s face. “See you sing again.”

“I’ll try to remember to let you know. We may have more questions in the future.”

“Anything I can do to help. Please, call me.” She opened the door and tried to return Ray’s handkerchief.

As they walked to the car Tony turned to Ray. “Booker T and the MG’s?”

Ray wouldn’t look at him and kept walking.

“Duck and Steve?” They both got in the car, Ray behind the wheel. “You know Duck Dunn and Steve Cropper?” Ray remained silent as they drove down the long driveway and turned onto the twisting narrow road.

After a time, Ray cleared his throat. “What did you think of her?”

Tony couldn’t resist. He tried, but it was a big hanging slider. “What did
you
think of her? You
dawg
.”

Ray turned to look at Tony. He had a frown on and had a tight grip on the wheel. “Keep your mind on the case.”

“You keep
your
mind on the case. I took lots of notes.”

“Good.” They drove on in silence for a minute. The frown dissolved into a half-smile. “I sort of forgot.”

“I noticed.” They drove on, trying not to get lost in the maze of curling roads around the lake.

Ray cleared his throat again. “I did some backup work for Smokey some years ago.”

“Smokey Robinson?” Ray just nodded. “Man. Sue Ellen told me you sang some but…man.”

“No big thing. How long have you been seeing my niece?” Ray asked as they turned onto the interstate.

“Not long.”
One night. Jesus…last night.

“She’s a nice girl.” Tony wondered if Ray was sending a message…or a warning to him to play nice. “I can see you two getting along. Now get out your phone and see if you can reach the one who lives in Eden Prairie. I’d hate to waste this much driving for one interview.”

“Tia Bork?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why is that name familiar?” Tony punched numbers. Tia answered. Yes, they could come by now. Twenty minutes would be fine. Tony looked out at the ocean of brake lights ahead of them on the crowded rush hour three-lane and told her it might be longer.

“Let’s try again. What did you think of the Marland woman?” Ray asked. Tony flipped through his notebook, shot a side look at Ray.
The
Marland
woman
?

“I think once we get more to work with she’ll be a good one to confirm or deny things.”

“I agree. You don’t see her for it, do you?”

Tony stared out at the traffic, thinking, trying to keep things straight. “Hard to say,
Rayford
. You forgot to ask her where she was Monday morning.”

“I believe you’re right. I guess I’ll have to call her later to clear that up.”

“I can do it.” Tony offered, always the innocent immensely helpful junior detective partner.

“Nope. My mistake. I’ll do it. No problem.”

“I hope she has an alibi.” Tony hadn’t forgotten about the fingerprint card Ray had slipped into his pocket instead of back into the kit. He wondered what Lakisha Marland had done years ago that got her into the system. He was sure Ray would tell him when he found out. “And ask her if Scott Fredrickson manages any of their money too.”

“You thinking something?”

“No boss, just getting into their lives like you said.”

R
ay and Tony found the address. Eden Prairie, a newer suburb, was much more navigable than Minnetonka. The house they approached was big. Not ‘Marland’ big, Tony mused, but substantial. The door was opened by an immense man with short blond hair, an easy smile, and the largest arms Tony had ever seen.

“Now I got it! Boom Boom Bork!” Tony spurted, offering his hand. Ray rolled his eyes. Boom Boom crushed Tony’s hand and in turn, Ray’s.

“Mr. Bork. I’m Sergeant Bankston and this is Detective de Luca. We spoke with your wife earlier.”

“About Deanna’s murder.” The recently retired Viking defensive end had a powered subwoofer buried in his chest. His voice was low and rumbling and sturdy. The smile disappeared. Tony thought he could hear a low growl as they were led into the house. In the kitchen they were introduced to his wife, Tia, another of the ‘Go Girls’.

Tia Bork was cheerleader beautiful, Tony saw immediately; blonde, fit and buxom. She was dressed in some sort of athletic suit that swished and whispered when she moved. Her husband dwarfed her, but then, Boom Boom loomed over Tony and Ray too. She was not a small woman. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Another set of red weary eyes looked at the detectives hopefully.

“Any questions for me?” Boom Boom rumbled. His arm was protectively around Tia’s shoulders.

“Not right now, sir,” Ray looked up at him. “We’d appreciate a few minutes with your wife.”

“Working your way through the girl gang?”

“Something like that.”

Bork snagged an amber drink in a low clear glass from the counter. Ice cubes rattled.

“You find the fucker did this to Dee and let me have just two minutes with him.” Boom Boom finished off the drink. Tony noticed a bottle of Makers Mark on the counter, recognized the distinctive red wax top. “I’ll be downstairs,” he said and left them alone with Tia.

“He means it,” she said, indicating they should sit at the kitchen table. She grabbed another low rocks glass and topped off a drink. “Do you mind?” Both detectives shook their heads. “Want one? Can I get you something?” Again they both declined so she slid into a chair across from them.

“Your husband was close to Mrs. Fredrickson?” Tony let Ray take the lead again but sensed that he could jump in this time if he wanted too.

“We’re all close. Scotty handles some things for Barry. Deanna and I have known each other for, Christ, fifteen years…maybe more. Yeah, we’re close.”

“Where were you Monday morning? Early…between 7:00 and 9:00?”

“Is that when it happened? Oh my God! And Scott didn’t get back until this morning.” She squeezed her eyes together tightly, tried to keep them from leaking more tears, and failed. Tony hoped she had a kinder image of her dead friend than what real life, and death, had imprinted in
his
mind.

She took a long pull of the whiskey and shuddered. “I was taking the kids to school.”

“That’s kind of early isn’t it?” Ray suggested. Tony had no idea what time school started. He had little contact with children of any age.

“Cherie’s on the swim team. They practice early. Monday I stayed to watch for a while, the little ones were with me.”

Ray ran down what had become the standard list of initial questions. Enemies? The possibility of an affair by either of them? Any financial difficulties she knew of? All of them were met with what were becoming standard answers. No. Not remotely possible. Are you kidding? He made brief notes and turned the questioning to the ‘Go Girls’.

“What do you want to know about our group for?”

“Was there any friction in the group?” Ray couldn’t tell her that he was still scratching for a motive, even a hint of one, and that the ‘Go Girls’ and their trips intrigued him.

“Is that a cop word? Friction? Get five or six women together and you’ll get more than that.”

Ray frowned. “So there were problems?”

“Not really. Not like you might think. Deanna is…was…the peacemaker of the group. I’d be jealous of something Lakisha bought and she’d get me over it. Erika pissing and moaning that all the good men were taken. She’s the only single one, well, unless you count Ally. Roxie would want to go to a certain bar and Ally would want to go to a restaurant. Problems like that. Certainly not life and death problems.”

“Tell me about the ‘Go Girls’.

Tia took another sip of her drink. “Like what? It’s just a bunch of us that have been friends for a long time. We like to do stuff together. We care about each other.”

“Like your trips?”

“That was originally Karen’s idea. Her husband is a big outdoors type, hunting and fishing—gone a lot. Hell, Barry’s gone half the year during the season, but she got it in her mind that we should ditch them for long weekends and get a little wild.”

“Wild?”

“Not really. Well…maybe a little. Like the time in Vegas when Lakisha entered this Texas Hold ’Em tournament. We were in the audience screaming every time she made a bet. We almost got tossed. We went deep sea fishing in Mexico. All of us, all but Ally, went scuba diving. We were just obnoxious in LA. We wanted to meet Harrison Ford. We got Woody Harrelson. We went to this strip joint. In LA they have strip joints for women. It’s creepy. That kind of wild.”

Ray stayed with the trip questions, intrigued. “You went to a lot of places that are what, maybe risky is the term. Did you ever get in any trouble?”

“Like cop trouble? No…never. Like men trouble? Not really. We’d get approached, sure. It was funny. We’d blow ’em off. Maybe tease a little, but that was all. It was girl time and we’re the ‘Go Girls’.”

“Tell me about the others.”

“No.” That took Ray back. Tia had been cooperative so far, informative. The ‘no’ had been definitive.

He must have had a puzzled look on his face because Tia went on to explain, “Look, you’re asking a lot of questions about our group, about Deanna’s circle of friends. It’s not my place to tell you what I think about them. I could tell you Roxie’s a lush and Lakisha can be a real bitch and Karen is frisky all the time, but that wouldn’t be fair to them and it would affect your thinking. There’s no way…no way in
hell
that any of us had anything to do with Dee’s murder.”

She stood quickly and the chair squeaked when she shoved it back. It almost tipped over. Tia retreated behind the kitchen island and poured more whiskey. A bit splashed over the rim of the glass. She looked like she was getting a little drunk.

“Mrs. Bork, one last thing. If you don’t mind we’d like to get your fingerprints. It’s just for elimination purposes…comparison.” She looked at him strangely for a minute, like she was working through something difficult, like she was confused.

“Barry!” she yelled with her head turned toward the hallway. Boom Boom quickly appeared. He didn’t look happy but Tony was still relieved when he didn’t make any moves like he was going to sack them. He glanced at the bottle on the counter, saw how much lower the level was, and sighed.

“What is it, babe?”

“They want my fingerprints?”

Tony turned his palms up on the table top. “It’s just for elimination. There are a lot of prints in the house. It’ll help us find the killer.”

“You want mine, too?”

With that question the crisis was over, the issue decided. Tony got out the kit and printed both of them. Tia was sullen. Her husband rubbed her back while Tony guided her fingers from the pad and rolled them across the card. Boom Boom did his by himself. After washing her hands Tia excused herself, said good evening to the detectives, and climbed unsteadily up the stairs.