“You can’t pull off the dumb blonde act with me. You’re a businesswoman who’s kept a struggling business alive in a little town that really shouldn’t be able to support it. I think you could match wits with Donald Trump and win.”
Mary picked up a laminated menu and smiled. “I think that was a compliment.”
“I only speak facts.”
“That’s right. I forgot that you’re Sergeant Friday. ‘Just the facts, ma’am,’” she said in her best Jack Webb imitation.
“If you don’t stop talking and decide what you’re going to order, that last piece of lemon meringue pie will be gone.”
The Kaffe Stuga was rustic, with pictures of school children from the past and baseball teams from the era when each little town had a backstop built in a pasture and fielded its own team.
After ordering the burger platter, Mary asked, “Can we move to a topic that doesn’t have a plot?”
“Sure.”
“I invited Barb to the shop and we looked through the wedding books and chose a nice bouquet for her to carry, corsages for the bridesmaids and boutonnieres for the groom and best man. We’re going with a yellow theme to complement her ivory colored wedding dress.”
“That sounds nice,” Floyd replied as the waitress set cups of coffee on the table and slid a stainless steel container of cream next to them.
“We’re paying for the flowers.”
He looked up from the cream he was pouring into his coffee. “Who’s ‘we?’”
“You and I are we.”
Floyd nodded. “No father of the bride to pick up the wedding tab and I don’t imagine that Sandy and Barb have a lot of savings to cover things either. I can live with that.”
Mary reached across the table and took his hand. “We’re not ‘just living with it,’ we’re proud to be able to do it. That’s what I told Barb.”
“She’s got no one but Sandy,” Floyd said. “I guess that buying the flowers would be a very nice thing to do. I’m glad you made the offer.”
“There’s one other thing.”
“Oh?”
“In all the excitement of the wedding planning and the shower planning, and having the shower at your house, I think I forgot to mention that Barb asked Pam and me to be her attendants.”
Floyd saw the sparkle in Mary’s eyes and smiled. “That’s great.”
“I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. I have to buy a dress. We’ll go shopping some evening and pick one out together. Maybe we’ll get you a suit at the same time.”
“My suit is at the cleaners and I don’t need a second one. Maybe one of the girls from the shop would go with you.”
“I’d rather have you come along and help me pick it out.”
“I’m not really a dress-picking kind of guy. I can appreciate a pretty dress, but I’d be way out of my comfort zone sitting in Herberger’s rendering opinions about dresses. Way out.”
Mary smiled. “My big, strong deputy sheriff who faces down bad guys with guns, doesn’t want to shop for dresses?”
“No.”
As dinner arrived she said, “I suppose your presence on a trip to Victoria’s Secret to choose some suitable underwear would be out of the question.”
“Hey!” Floyd said, pointing to the newspaper box by the entrance. “The Twins won yesterday. That Joe Mauer is really doing a job for them. I’m really glad they moved him from catcher to first base.”
“Nice try,” Mary said, “but Mauer’s been out with an injury.” She hesitated, then added, “The shopping trip would be less expensive if you came along.”
“I’m sure it would cost me in ways I don’t care to consider.”
CHAPTER 34
The coincidence of the stolen ATV being found near Round Lake nagged at Floyd, keeping him from sleep. He drove to the courthouse Sunday morning and pulled out a book of property abstracts, looking at the names of the property owners around Round Lake. None of the names seemed familiar, nor did they connect with any of the sextet of partiers. He stood by the county map and traced the roads around Round Lake, trying to find anything that would attract an injured guy on an ATV. There was nothing but seasonal cabins and farmhouses, and there were plenty of them closer to Passenger Lake. If Aaron had stolen the ATV he’d driven past a dozen warm farmhouses with telephones on his way to Round Lake. There had to be a reason he chose Round Lake but the reason wasn’t obvious.
The dispatcher paged him as he was making another pot of coffee. “This is Sergeant Swenson, how may I help you?”
“Floyd, this is Kerry in the jail. Mark Roberts has been making a stink for two days. Could you come over and talk to him about where you have his wife stashed. He keeps complaining that you’ve kidnapped her.”
“He hasn’t posted bail yet?”
The jailer chuckled. “That’s part of the problem. The bail bondsman says the only way he’ll put up bond for him is to get a second mortgage on the house. Mark can’t find his wife to sign the mortgage papers.”
Floyd stared at his steaming cup of coffee, deciding whether to dump it out and go quickly to the jail, or to drink it at a leisurely pace and go to the jail when it was convenient. “Tell Mark I’ll be over when I’m through with my coffee.”
An hour later, the jailer moved Mark Roberts to an interview room and Floyd met him outside the room.
“He’s really hot,” Kerry explained. “I think you want me in the room with you while you talk.”
“C’mon in,” Floyd said, pushing the door open.
Mark Roberts was in a pair of orange jail coveralls with flip-flops on his feet. His belly strained at the coverall zipper and his cuffed hands were resting on the metal table. He looked up with fire in his eyes when Floyd entered the room.
“This is a bunch of bullshit,” Roberts said. “You can’t hold me. My wife won’t press charges.”
Floyd took a chair across the table from Roberts while the jailer stood with his back to the only door. “We don’t need Sue to press charges anymore. The legislature changed the law a couple years ago and now all we need is to witness the abuse or evidence of the abuse and we can press charges on behalf of the state. I’m surprised your lawyer didn’t explain that to you.”
Roberts looked past Floyd into the corner. “That snot-nosed bitch had all kinds of stupid ideas. I didn’t believe any of her bullshit.”
“You didn’t like the public defender?” Floyd asked. He pictured the young female lawyer, the newest member of the public defender’s office.
“Where’s my wife? I’ve been calling the house every day and she doesn’t answer.”
“We have her at a safe location.”
“Safe from what?”
“Safe from you, mostly,” Floyd said. “If you give me a message, I can pass it along.”
Roberts’ eyes narrowed. “Tell her to get her butt in here to bail me out.”
“Hasn’t your lawyer contacted Sue already?” Floyd asked.
“She’s about as worthless as teats on a boar pig,” Roberts replied. “I think she’s mad at me anyway. I might’ve said something that upset her.”
Floyd smiled. “She’s a little sensitive about people calling her names and swearing at her. I guess she hasn’t been a lawyer long enough to develop a thick skin.”
“That bitch is too big for her britches,” Roberts said, shaking his head. “She thinks she can tell me what to do, and I don’t take shit from women.”
“I’ll tell Sue you want to see her. Is there anything else I can tell her, like maybe you’re sorry?”
“I’m sorry your bitch deputy showed up when we were arguing, but I’m not sorry I was fighting with Sue. She needs to be straightened out. All she does is mope around the house feeling sorry for herself. I work my butt off to keep the house together and she sits around crying over sad TV crap.”