In the Drink (26 page)

Back at the bar, Mal and I headed upstairs to see who was hanging out in the Capone Club room. A small group—the core regulars—were there: the brothers, Cora, Tad, Carter, and Sam. If past experience was any indication, Holly and Alicia would show up in an hour or so when they got off work at the bank, and Tiny would come in when he finished his construction job to grab some dinner and spend some time with Cora.

We updated those who were there on my conversation with Erik Hermann, and for the next two hours, the group tossed around their opinions of Hermann's mental state, eventually dividing into two camps: those who thought his current emotional state might be due to guilt over killing his own sister and those who thought it very unlikely. Others arrived during this time: Holly, Alicia, Kevin Baldwin—our local sanitation engineer—and Tiny. Each time someone new showed up, there would be a recap and the debate would begin again.

I excused myself a little after five when Duncan called on my cell.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said, making me taste fizzy, hot chocolate. “How has your day gone?”

I stepped into the empty room on the second floor and, after shutting the door, I filled him in on both my conversation with Erik Hermann and our visit to the church.

“You've been busy,” he said.

“I guess, but now I feel like I'm stalled on all fronts. I have no idea where to go next with Tiny's case, and I have a sinking feeling that we've misinterpreted the latest letter writer clues. I can't figure out how the coffee ties into the church, so I'm beginning to think we've missed the mark with this one. It makes me nervous because time is running out.”

“I have a small tidbit that might help,” Duncan said, giving my flagging hope a tiny boost. “Carrie, the gal who's been examining the evidence for me, found a tiny particle of something mixed in with the cinnamon. It turned out to be a bit of pollen from a flower, a stargazer lily to be exact.”

“But the flower petal that was in with the other clues was from a rose, not a lily,” I said, thinking. “So how did the pollen get in there?”

“That's the key question. Whoever handled the cinnamon must have also handled or been in close contact with a stargazer lily. Given the time of year, it isn't likely that it came from a plant growing outside anywhere.”

“That would suggest a hothouse, or a flower shop of some sort. But how does that tie in with any of the other clues?”

“I don't know,” Duncan admitted. “Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with something.” I held my breath, afraid to ask when that might be. “Unfortunately, I can't come by tonight, but how about tomorrow?”

This was shaping up to be a day full of disappointments. “If that's the soonest you can make it, then tomorrow it will be,” I said, hoping I sounded more lighthearted than I felt.

“Tomorrow I should be able to come by in the late afternoon,” Duncan said.
I'll believe it when I see it.
“And then you can tell me how your meeting with the priest went. In the meantime, keep thinking on it. I'll do the same. Hang in there. We'll get to the bottom of this.”

“Call or text me if you have any brilliant ideas in the meantime,” I said. There was a long silence that followed and for a moment I thought the call had been dropped, except I still had an image in my mind of multicolored threads running off into the horizon with no end in sight. It was a typical manifestation for me whenever I was on the phone with an open line. “Duncan, are you still there?”

“I'm here. I'm just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About you. There's something in your tone that feels different to me. It's almost as if you're moving away from me with every word we speak.”

“Now who's the synesthete?” I teased.

“Don't deflect. Are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “And are
we
okay? Because I really do care about you, Mack. I know things haven't been easy for us here lately, but I don't want to lose you. Tell me we're okay.”

I hesitated with my answer and heard Duncan sigh on the other end. “I don't know if I can answer that question, Duncan,” I said finally. “Do I care for you? Yes, I do. But I can't deny that I'm feeling kind of lost and lonely here lately when it comes to you. I don't feel like we have much of a relationship at this point and I guess I was expecting something more, something better.”

“Damn,” Duncan muttered, and I tasted fizzy hot chocolate again. “Look, I promise you that when this thing is over I will make it up to you, Mack. Please be patient with me. I know it isn't easy for you, but it isn't easy for me either. I miss you like crazy.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. “I'll try,” I said. “And for what it's worth, I miss you, too. Let's talk again tomorrow.”

“Okay, but don't hesitate to call me sooner if you need to. Or if you want to, okay?”

“Okay.” I had a strong urge to cry so I quickly muttered, “Tomorrow then,” and disconnected the call. I just stood there for a few minutes, weighing our conversation, and wondering where it was all going to end.

When I finally headed out of the closed room, I had no desire to talk to anyone about the cases, Mal, or any of the rest of it. I headed downstairs and spent the next few hours burying myself in work. I restocked the beer, inventoried my liquor supply, waited tables, did a stint behind the bar, and helped out in the kitchen. During this time, several of the Capone Club members sought me out to check on me: Joe and Frank, Cora, and of course, Mal.

Sometime around nine, Dr. T came in. She saw me behind the bar, held up a folder she had in her hand, and nodded toward the new section. Then she headed upstairs. Assuming she had finally gotten a copy of the autopsy files on Lori and Anna, I followed. I found her standing in the general area outside the room, looking hesitant.

“Did you get the autopsy reports?” I asked.

She nodded. “I did, but I'm not sure what to do. Tiny's in there.”

“Oh. Right. Let me take care of that.” I took out my phone and texted Cora. A moment later, she came out of the room, a quizzical look on her face.

“What's up?” she asked. We explained our dilemma and she nodded. “Give me a minute and I'll see to it that he leaves. But you have to promise to share the information in those reports with me later.”

“You're leaving, too?”

She winked. “I am. It's time for me and Tiny to have a little R and R, and in this case it stands for romp and roll, if you get my drift.” She headed back into the room and after waiting a minute or two, Dr. T and I did the same. Greetings were passed around, and as Dr. T and I settled into some empty chairs, Cora packed up her laptop. Then she made her way over to where Tiny was sitting, leaned down, and whispered something in his ear. Tiny blushed as red as a glass of port, and suddenly the two of them were bidding the others good night. They lit out of there like their pants were on fire, which, if I knew Cora, they probably were.

As soon as they were gone, Dr. T addressed the rest of the group. “I have copies of the autopsy files on both Lori Gruber and Anna Hermann. I'm not supposed to have them yet because I didn't go through the proper channels to request them. I didn't want to get caught up in any delays because of red tape. I didn't make any copies of them so I'll share the information with all of you, but what I'm about to say has to stay between us and within the confines of this room. Understood?”

Everyone nodded eagerly.

“Okay,” Dr. T began. “Here's what I found out. Both girls' bodies were reasonably well preserved despite the fact that they had been dead for a little over two months. That's because they were frozen in the river during that time. Whoever killed them tried to weight the bodies down with the bikes and some rocks, but once the spring thaw started and the temperatures rose, their bodies surfaced.

“I'll start with Anna's autopsy.” She opened the folder she had and consulted some papers inside. “Both girls had clothesline wrapped around their necks but in Anna's case it wasn't the cause of death. She was hit on the head with some type of blunt object, and hit hard enough that she had a depression fracture in her skull. Basically, that means that her skull was caved in. The coroner's report states that while this didn't kill her right away, it would have rendered her unconscious. It appears she lay that way for a while because by the time the rope was tied around her neck she was already dead. Her clothing was all intact and there was no evidence of any sexual trauma or assault. In fact, Anna Hermann died a virgin.”

She tucked the papers she was looking at underneath some others and then continued. “As for Lori, she, too, had evidence of head trauma, but in her case it wasn't a life-threatening injury. Lori's cause of death was strangulation with the clothesline. And she didn't die easily. There were claw marks on her neck, most likely caused by her trying to grab at the rope that was choking her. There was a small piece of skin found under a fingernail, but DNA testing, which wasn't done until five years ago, showed that it was her own skin. Lori was also naked from the waist down. Her pants were found around her ankles. And Lori had evidence of sexual trauma, rather severe trauma in fact. She was a virgin prior to the day in question because remnants of her torn hymen were found. Vaginal swabs were taken but they didn't produce any semen or foreign DNA. However, there was botanical evidence found in her vagina.”

“Botanical evidence?” Carter echoed. “Such as?”

“Tree bark. The report suggests that either she was sexually assaulted while lying on the ground and the bark got in there that way, or that it might have gotten in there after she was put in the water. And there was evidence that the sexual assault occurred postmortem.”

That triggered some gasps and groans of disgust. We all sat in silence for a few minutes, imagining the horror the girl must have gone through in her last moments.

“The clothesline used was taken from the backyard of a home near the park where the girls were found. The owners were away at the time. It appeared to have been cut, or rather gnawed at with a pair of ordinary scissors that weren't very sharp.” She closed the folder and looked around the room at us. “That's pretty much it,” she said. “Gruesome, but not of any particular value unless any of you can think of something in this information that points to a particular suspect.”

There was a lot of slow head shaking, head scratching, and ponderous looks, but in the end, no one had any new ideas to offer.

The autopsy information proved to be a buzz kill, and feeling a need to distance myself from it all, I excused myself and headed downstairs. For the rest of the night I kept myself busy tasking. One by one the members of the Capone Club headed home as the night wore on, and eventually Mal came downstairs and took a seat at the bar. I didn't speak to him much at all. He was a constant reminder of how unsettled my love life was, and as such, I found myself avoiding him.

By one o'clock the place was nearly empty and I had the bulk of the cleanup done along with the prep work for the next day. I shut down the kitchen and let most of my staff leave early, keeping only Debra. When closing time came around I sent her home, too, telling her I'd do the rest of the closing tasks myself. Mal stayed where he was at the bar, and as soon as Debra was gone and I had locked the front door, he spun around on his stool and gave me a worried look.

“Mack, is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” I said, wiping down a couple of tables that were already clean.

“Bull. Tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. Then, realizing how unbelievable that sounded, I stopped what I was doing, looked at him finally, and said, “Actually, I take that back. Everything is wrong. Everything is unsettled and uncertain, and I feel like all I'm doing is spinning my wheels. I'm just as confused now as I was in the beginning.”

“Are you talking about the cases we're working on, or you and Duncan?”

“Both,” I said with a pained smile.

“If you're uncomfortable with me staying tonight, I can sleep down here in your office. That couch you have in there will suit me just fine.”

Damn the man was so kind and understanding and handsome. I felt inexplicably drawn to him despite my misgivings. Still holding my table-cleaning rag, I sauntered toward him. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “You can sleep upstairs. Same as before.”

“You're sure?” he asked. I was inches away from him and he leaned back on his stool, looking unsettled.

“I'm positive,” I said, and then I closed the last gap between us and moved between his knees. I could tell he was tempted to turn away, but he didn't. Nor did he take his eyes off mine.

My heart was pounding inside my chest, but it was an exciting feeling rather than a frightening one. And before I had a chance to second-guess the impulse, I kissed him.

This kiss was much different than the first one. This time it was Mal who was hesitant and surprised, but that didn't last long. Soon I felt his arms snake around my waist and he pulled me in closer to him. I gave myself over to the feelings and sensations, and there were tons of them! I let myself get lost in the visual display of exploding colors and the wondrous feelings coursing through my body.

And then Mal pushed me away. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head.

“Mack,” he said, breathless, “we can't do this.”

I hung my head in embarrassment, though Mal misinterpreted my action.

“It's not that I don't want to,” he said, and when I didn't look at him, he tilted my head up with his hand, forcing me to. “Hey,” he said softly, “it's not that I don't want to. It's not that I don't find you attractive, because believe me I do. You have no idea how hard it was for me to stop this just now. But Duncan is my friend, and I can't do that to a friend.”