Alyssa spun around the corner. “You and daddy did it in a car? Really?”
Betsy’s crimson blush answered the question. “Of course not, and that’s not an appropriate thing for people to do on a date! We fell asleep and got in big trouble with our parents.”
“Give me a break!” Alyssa said, again rolling her eyes. “Like I could believe that you and daddy could fall asleep in a car and not be doing it.”
Betsy’s arms dropped on the couch as she let out a deep sigh. “They watch this reality television crap and then they think every couple in the world has sex every time the lights go out. I was a virgin until I was twenty, and I’ll be lucky to get Alyssa through school without a pregnancy.”
“Bottom line, you didn’t ever see Aaron or Kenny after you left the bar,” Floyd summarized.
“I never saw them again, but three weeks later Mike and I were making wedding plans.”
“Pregnant?”
“Don’t you hate it when the kids can see right through you? Let’s just say that Alyssa might almost be able to remember that night because she was there.”
CHAPTER 12
Floyd showered and put on a fresh pair of khaki pants. He chose a knit golf shirt from the drawer and ran a comb through his thinning gray hair. He climbed in his pickup and drove down highway 23 to Pine Brook. He wound a few blocks off the highway to Mary Junger’s house and sat in the driveway with a smile on his face. Mary waved at him from the window and motioned that she’d be right out.
“How was your day?” he asked as they pulled onto the highway.
“There’s a funeral Wednesday and we got a half dozen orders for flower arrangements. Pete Watson chose a plant for his wife’s birthday, and a cute high school kid came in looking for a dozen roses for his girlfriend. When he found out how expensive roses are, he opted for red carnations with some baby’s breath.”
Mary chatted about the flower business, the heat, and when it was expected to break, and the sorry baseball season the Twins were having. Floyd smiled and nodded agreement at appropriate times. They pulled into the parking lot at Cassidy’s White Pine Restaurant. Floyd opened the door for Mary and the hostess showed them to a booth overlooking the parking lot. Floyd slid into the booth opposite Mary.
As they looked at menus, Mary said, “You haven’t said a word.”
Floyd continued to smile. “I’d rather listen to you.”
After they ordered, Mary asked about Floyd’s day.
“I spent the day chasing ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
“We’ve got this old picture of six people. One person died the next day and another hasn’t been seen since the night the picture was taken. So I’ve been talking to the other four, trying to understand what happened that night.”
“Did you find any of the ghosts?”
“Not yet, but one person told me a secret, another person hung up on me when I called her, and I think a third lied to me.”
“People lied to you?”
“Don’t be surprised. People lie to cops all the time. The trick is to know when you’re being lied to and then use that to your advantage.” Changing the topic, Floyd asked about the remodeling project at the flower shop.
“I talked to Robbie Peterson, and he’s booked up right now, but he estimated it would take him about three weeks and he put me on the schedule for September. I’ll need to give him twenty percent down when he starts, and the balance is due when he’s done.”
“Just let me know when I need to write him a check,” Floyd said, buttering a roll.
Mary reached across the table and took his hand. “Are you sure you want to pay for the remodeling? I can talk to the banker about taking out a loan.”
“It’s OK,” Floyd said, gently squeezing her hand. “I like the idea of being your partner.”
Their food came and they talked about mutual friends and whether Mary’s shop should have a booth at the winter home show. Floyd picked up the bill and was reaching for his wallet when he felt Mary’s toe sliding up his calf. The under-table move was so unexpected that he recoiled.
“I’m sorry,” Mary said, giving him a silly grin. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.” Her toe slid up his other calf.
“It’s OK. It’s just that…”
Mary slipped onto Floyd’s side of the table and put her hand on his thigh. “We can go back to my house and have some dessert.”
Floyd felt a blush rising from his neck. He gently picked up her hand from his thigh and kissed it gently. “I think we have to eat dessert here.”
Mary gave him a quizzical look. “Why?”
Floyd leaned close and whispered, “Because I can’t stand up right now.”
Mary glanced at his lap and smiled. “Oh dear, I think I’ve caused a problem.”
After sharing a serving of bread pudding with rum sauce, Floyd and Mary drove in the late summer twilight. The sun had set when he pulled into Mary’s driveway and the wispy high clouds were crimson and yellow above the western horizon.
Mary slid her hand into Floyd’s and squeezed. “We haven’t talked about this, but I feel something special when I’m with you. I have butterflies when I see your car in the driveway and I feel like a part of me is missing when you’re on night shift and I sit alone watching television.”
Floyd was staring at the clouds. He took a deep breath and nodded.
Mary mistook his silence for discomfort and said, “If this is too fast, I’m sorry, but I thought you should know…”
Floyd shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just that I haven’t got my head around what’s happening. I can handle going out for dinner with a friend, but my stomach clenches when I hear the word, ‘date.’”
“You’re more than my friend.”
“Yup,” Floyd replied, not trusting his voice with a longer answer.
“Come in,” she said.
“As much as I’d like to,” Floyd replied, “I’ve got a dead body to search for in the morning. I’d like to take a rain check on that offer.”
Mary slid next to him and they kissed. “It’s your loss.”
“I know.”
Floyd walked her to the door and they kissed again. “Don’t wait too long to collect that rain check,” Mary said from the doorway.
CHAPTER 13
Floyd was awake before the alarm clock rang and after showering, feeding the dog, and making a cup of coffee he was out the door with a lilt in his step. At the courthouse he scanned through the files and reports of criminal activity from the December and January after Ken Solstad’s death. He wasn’t sure just what he hoped to find, but he had a nagging feeling that the picture of Aaron Roberts might have been linked to something else that happened. The stack of files was sitting on his desk chair, the only clear spot in his corner of the bullpen. Mid-morning he decided to call Melissa Schotten at the Redwood Falls hospital again rather than digging into more of the files. When she answered, he tried a different tack.
“Melissa, please listen to me a few moments. This is Floyd Swenson calling from the Pine County Sheriff’s Department and this is not a crank call. If you don’t believe me, please write down this number and have the dispatcher page me.”
“I can’t make a long distance call from this phone,” Melissa replied in an irritated voice.
“Call collect if you like. I’ll tell the dispatcher to accept the charges.”
“Tell me something only a Pine County cop would know.”
“I graduated from Pine City high school with your mother, Dolores, whose nickname is Dottie and maiden name was Bradshaw. She was a cheerleader and dated my best friend. She met your dad when he moved here after graduating from the University of Minnesota.”