“Lyla?”
“Edith told me that you and Lyla had a bit of a tiff and Lyla went home early. I thought maybe you called to apologize to her, but didn’t want to tell Edith that.”
Soderberg thought a moment. “That could have been it.”
“You called her at home?”
Soderberg said carefully, “I must have.”
“And you worked things out, I hope. Cork and I have a rule.” She smiled at her husband. “We try never to go to bed angry. Edith said you left the party shortly after Lyla, a little before eleven. So you went home still thinking Tiffany was at the Birminghams’?”
Soderberg gave a nod.
“Okay. Lyla left the party at ten-thirty. She got a ride from Marion Griswold because you thought she was too drunk to drive. You kept the car, that gorgeous PT Cruiser, right?”
“I thought this was about Tiffany.”
“I’m getting to that. You did keep the PT Cruiser?”
Soderberg hesitated. “That’s right.”
“You left the party at eleven and then what? Did you go straight home?”
He considered her a moment, then said, “I think we’re done talking.”
“Just a couple more things. You told Edith Lipinski that night that you wanted to use her phone to check on Tiffany. But you didn’t check on Tiffany, did you? And it wasn’t Lyla you called either. She wasn’t home. She was at Marion Griswold’s place. Why are you lying about the calls you made?”
“I’d like you out of my office,” Soderberg said.
“Phone records indicate that two calls were made to Valhalla from the Lipinskis’ home the night Charlotte Kane died. I think you made those calls. Around eleven o’clock, you left the party and drove to Valhalla. We have a witness who puts Lyla’s PT Cruiser at Valhalla in that time frame. Why were you there? I believe for a sexual liaison with Charlotte Kane. I believe you’d had a relationship with her for some time.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Soderberg said.
“I also believe it’s possible that you killed Charlotte Kane and planted evidence that would implicate Solemn Winter Moon. Were you angry with Charlotte for having an affair with Winter Moon? Or had Charlotte threatened you with exposure-you, the newly elected sheriff of Tamarack County?”
Gooding slowly uncrossed his arms. His gaze shifted to the sheriff.
The frail vessel that had held Soderberg’s contentment that morning had shattered. The happiness had drained from his face, and he looked stunned.
“I killed Charlotte?” He frowned. “Maybe I kidnapped the Lindbergh baby, too?”
“Much of this we can prove,” Jo said.
“How?”
“By matching your DNA against the results of the DNA testing that was done on the pubic hairs taken from Charlotte’s body during the autopsy.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it? You never bothered to widen your investigation beyond looking at Solemn Winter Moon. I think it was because you were afraid that evidence might be found that could incriminate you.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Did Charlotte threaten to make it all public? Was that why you killed her?”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Or were you just blind with rage because she’d been with Solemn, had let him touch her in the same way you had?”
“Gooding, get these people out of here.”
The deputy didn’t move.
“You were at Valhalla that night,” Jo said. “You had opportunity and motive.”
“No.”
“You used your position as sheriff to protect yourself.”
“No.”
“You loved Charlotte Kane.”
He opened his mouth but the denial died before he spoke it. That was the moment Cork knew Soderberg had cracked, the moment he knew Jo had him. Soderberg stood up and put his hands on his desk and leaned forward like a tree about to fall.
“Get out of my office.”
“I’m prepared to ask the court to compel you to submit to DNA testing.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She opened her briefcase. “This is your copy of the motion. It sets forth all the evidence and the reasoning. When I leave here, I’ll go directly to the county attorney’s office and give Nestor Cole a copy. From there I head to the courthouse to file and to request a date for the motion hearing. This isn’t a bluff. It will get public and ugly, Arne. Why don’t we talk now?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” he replied hoarsely. “Deputy Gooding, I told you to get these people out.”
Jo rose from her chair. “We’re leaving, but we’ll be back, Arne. While we’re gone, take a few minutes and think clearly. And get yourself a lawyer.”
She turned and walked out. Cork followed and closed the door behind him.
Outside Soderberg’s office, he said, “What now?”
“I make good my threat.”
“At the moment, all we’re able to offer is speculation.”
“No, we’re citing a number of incriminating facts from which very reasonable suppositions can be drawn.” She looked back at the closed door. “Maybe he killed Charlotte, maybe he didn’t. But of the rest, he’s guilty as hell, I know it.”
“You need me?”
“No.”
“Do you think we should let Solemn know what’s up?”
“I don’t see why not. He’s got more at stake in this than anybody. Would you talk to him?”
“Sure.” Cork touched her cheek. “Have I told you how glad I am that you’re on our side?”
Cork spent a long time with Solemn, laying it all out carefully. In the end, Solemn appeared troubled by the news. He stood up from the table in the interview room, walked to the door, and put his hands flat against it. He tilted forward until the crown of his head touched as well. He seemed to ground himself on the hard reality of the jail.
“Do you think he killed her?” he asked.
“My gut feeling is no,” Cork said.
Solemn stared down at the gray sneakers worn by all the long-term guests of the county. “So. It may do me some good, but I imagine it’ll pretty well mess up Sheriff Soderberg’s life.”
“I imagine.”
And he did. Cork imagined Lyla like a withered fruit, sucked dry of compassion. And he pictured Arne on the streets of Aurora, a man people would pretend not to see.
“He never seemed to me to be very happy,” Solemn said. “I can’t help feeling sorry for him.” He turned to Cork. “Is he a religious man?”
“No more so than most folks, I’d guess.”
“I’ll pray for him.” He returned to his chair and sat down with his hands folded in his lap. “I’m still going to trial?”
“We’ll have to see about that.” Cork signaled Pender, who was on cell block duty that day. “If I were you, Solemn, I’d pray a little for myself.”
Solemn looked up at him, looked out of the deep brown wells that were his eyes. “Some days that’s all I do. It’ll help me, praying for someone else.” He hesitated, as if reluctant to say the rest. “Thank you for all you’re doing. Only…”
