55
Chris sat in a folding chair near the wall of the high-school auditorium. He drank a paper cup filled with Red Cross lemonade and ate a dry butter cookie. Cots and sleeping bags lined the glossy floor of the gym in neat rows. The school smelled of rescue. Vats of pasta and red sauce simmered on food trucks. Portable lavatories lined up like cheerleaders on the football field. He smelled the body odor and sweat of people crammed together in close quarters. No one cared; no one protested. Barron and St. Croix had become a single town of survivors. The feud was over.
It had been three days since the flood. The waters were slowly receding. He expected to see a dove carrying an olive branch, signaling that they could find land again. In its wake, though, the real scope of the devastation became clear: homes and buildings reduced to rubble or erased from the landscape; highways six inches deep in mud; hundreds of displaced families. Despite the loss, he’d heard not a word from anyone about giving up or walking away. In the Midwest, you prayed, you shrugged, and then you got to work.
He watched Hannah and Olivia. Hannah went from family to family, checking on their health, explaining the relief services that were available. Olivia, her foot in a cast, balanced on crutches, managed to play with young children in the gym by bouncing an inflatable beach ball from boy to girl in a big circle. He saw Glenn Magnus, too, comforting those who had lost everything.
Losing everything felt lucky to the people in the gym. If there was a miracle, it was that the losses were limited to homes, possessions, memories, and jobs. Florian was dead. Marco was dead. Lenny was dead. Everyone else had escaped with their lives.
‘Mr. Hawk.’
Chris saw Michael Altman standing over him. He almost didn’t recognize the county attorney, who wore a bulky wool sweater and corduroys rather than his usual crisp business suit. He didn’t have his fedora perched on his head, and his graying hair needed a comb.
‘Mr. Altman,’ he said.
The county attorney sat down next to him. His hands were on his knees. He followed Chris’s eyes to his ex- wife and daughter in the auditorium.
‘I’m relieved that you and your family are safe,’ Altman told him.
‘Thanks.’
‘I understand Johan Magnus is recovering in a hospital in Granite Falls.’
‘That’s right. When Olivia’s not here, she’s there.’
‘I’ve been watching your wife and daughter. They seem to have a boundless energy. They’ve helped a lot of people.’
‘Them and the volunteers who dropped everything to come here from around the country. It revives a little of my faith in human nature.’
‘Mine, too.’
‘I’m sad about Marco Piva,’ Chris admitted. ‘I genuinely liked him. I’m horrified by what he did, but I can’t bring myself to hate him. Losing someone you love can eat away your soul.’
‘Speaking of Marco,’ Altman murmured.
Chris frowned. He knew what was coming. He’d been thinking about it since the flood. He’d known that it wasn’t over since he learned that Marco Piva was the man known as Aquarius.
‘I have a problem,’ the county attorney continued.
‘Yes, I know.’
‘I’m reluctant to bring it up in the current circumstances, but I felt I should discuss it with you. Regardless of what’s happened, this disaster doesn’t erase that a murder was committed.’
‘That’s true,’ Chris said.
Altman looked pleased that Chris wasn’t fighting him, but his face was uncomfortable.
‘I was prepared to believe that Aquarius murdered Ashlynn Steele,’ the county attorney went on. ‘Whether it was part of his vengeance against Florian, or whether Ashlynn simply discovered who he was as she poked into the affairs of Vernon Clay and Lucia Causey, I really thought the girl’s death was different than what I originally believed.’
‘I believed that, too,’ Chris said.
‘However, I didn’t know at the time that Marco Piva was Aquarius.’
‘No.’
‘Marco didn’t kill Ashlynn,’ Altman said. ‘You realize that, don’t you?’
Chris said nothing. He knew it was true. He knew Marco was innocent, at least of that death. In a way, he was glad. Even if Marco had destroyed the towns of Barron and St. Croix, even if he had deliberately blown up himself and Florian Steele, he hadn’t been cold or cruel enough to stare a beautiful young girl in the face and shoot her in the head. He wasn’t that kind of man.
‘Johan was with Marco at the motel until after midnight on the Friday night that Ashlynn was killed,’ Altman said. ‘He left when a plumber arrived, and I found the Barron plumber who got the emergency call. He confirmed that he spent most of that night working with Marco on the pipes in the motel room. And drinking Chianti, too, I gather.’
‘That sounds like Marco.’
‘You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?’
‘I think so,’ Chris said.
‘It means we’re back where we started. There are still only two explanations for Ashlynn’s murder. I don’t like either answer, but I’m left believing that Olivia really did kill Ashlynn, as it appeared from the beginning. Or Johan Magnus did.’
‘Lenny Watson was in the ghost town that night,’ Chris said. ‘He was following Olivia. He saw her walk away. Ashlynn was alive.’
‘Unfortunately, Lenny is dead,’ Altman said. ‘He can’t tell us what he saw.’
‘I know. What about Kirk’s murder? The same gun was used in both crimes. How do you explain that?’
‘You know I can’t rule out the possibility that Olivia shot Kirk,’ Altman told him. ‘She certainly had a motive to do so. Or it’s possible that she gave Johan the gun, so he could do it for her.’
‘Or Johan had the gun himself all along, because he picked it up in the ghost town that Friday night,’ Chris said. ‘Right?’
‘Yes. That’s possible, too. I’m not saying I’ve made up my mind what really happened. We’ll be running forensics, and hopefully that will shed light on the truth. I just thought you should know that I’m not dropping the case. It’s my job. I’m not going to let a girl’s murder go unpunished.’
‘I never thought you would,’ Chris said. He leaned his back against the gym wall and closed his eyes. He was tired.
‘Obviously, this will all take months,’ Altman said. ‘Off the record, it may never go anywhere. I can assess reasonable doubt as well as any jury, and you have my word I won’t bring a case unless I believe the evidence supports it.’
Chris opened his eyes. ‘Have you talked to Julia Steele since the flood?’
‘Julia? No, I haven’t. Why?’
‘I have,’ Chris said.
Altman waited in puzzled silence. Chris could see the question in the man’s eyes.
‘You’ve always been honest and open with me, Mr. Altman, and I appreciate it. The voters around here put a fine man in charge. However, in this case, you’re wrong. Olivia didn’t kill Ashlynn. Neither did Johan. They were just three teenagers caught in a love triangle.’
‘Teenage emotion can be overwhelming. And dangerous.’
‘Yes, it can, but that’s not why Ashlynn was killed.’
‘I’d like to believe you, Chris. Really, I would, but the evidence doesn’t point any other way. Marco didn’t do it, so either Olivia or Johan must have pulled the trigger. No one else even knew Ashlynn was there.’
Chris shook his head. ‘Not true. Someone else knew.’
Altman thought about it. ‘Well, all right, Tanya Swenson knew.’
‘That’s right,’ Chris said. ‘She called Olivia from her home that night, and they talked about the fact that
