“I know, but I’m a grown woman; I shouldn’t just pass out like that.”
Pam, with an extremely nasal voice, said, “Mary, you’ve never seen a mess like that. I didn’t realize how bad I looked until you didn’t recognize me. It must’ve been a terrible shock.”
“It’s not like you deal with any blood around the flower shop,” Floyd added. “What’s the worst injury someone ever had there, a pin-stick from a corsage?”
“We’ve dealt with some nasty thorns,” Mary said trying to regain some dignity.
This might not be the best time to ask, but have you had an update on Kathy Tucker?” Pam asked Floyd as they walked across the hospital parking lot.
“They removed her ruptured spleen here, got her stabilized, then sent her to North Memorial trauma center via helicopter. Last I heard she was still unconscious but her vital signs were still stable.” Floyd opened the car door for Pam and added, “We matched the bloody footprints in Kathy’s house to the shoes in Mark Roberts’ breezeway. The palm print on the door frame also matched Mark Roberts. The sheriff is making a statement to the press in about fifteen minutes to announce the arrest in Kathy’s assault.”
“Do we know why he attacked her?” Mary asked.
“Roberts isn’t talking,” Floyd said. “But the hostility he showed after I told him Aaron was gay was certainly clear evidence he was angry about Aaron’s life choice. He also asked me if it was Kathy who’d told me about Aaron’s coming-out. I tried to deflect it by saying I’d heard it from several sources, but he obviously focused on the one person who would’ve known. For once in his life, he’s actually listening to a woman. His female public defender told him to keep his mouth shut.”
Floyd closed the car door for Pam and walked Mary to her car.
“Are you really OK?” Mary asked as she unlocked her car.
“I’m sore, but I’ll survive,” he replied.
Mary bit her lip, then said, “Pam will look like a horse kicked her on Saturday. I’m not sure she’ll want to be in any of the wedding pictures.”
“There’s never a perfect wedding ceremony,” Floyd said with a shrug. “This will make everyone laugh in a few months.”
Mary kissed him gently and got in her car. Before closing the door she asked, “Can I make you supper?”
“Sure. Just don’t make me laugh.”
CHAPTER 38
Floyd dropped Pam at her apartment and returned to the courthouse. He studied the map showing the location of significant events related to Aaron Roberts’ disappearance. The coincidental location of the recovered ATV and the place where Mike Nelson and Betsy Ring said they’d spent the night nagged at him.
“There are no coincidences in law enforcement,” he said to himself. Fifteen minutes later he was at the Pine City lumberyard waiting for Mike Nelson, who was helping a contractor load a hot tub onto his truck.
He checked out the rack of cordless power tools across the aisle from pails of wallboard compound and trowels. The showroom walls were covered with samples of siding and flooring. Rows of shelves featured every variety of tool imaginable. The back of the showroom was lined with bins of nails and screws. The smell of pine and cedar boards filled the air, melding with the aroma of coffee perking in the corner next to a box of pastries.
The coffee pot was like a magnet for Floyd and when Mike walked into the showroom he found Floyd sipping coffee and munching a doughnut.
“I should’ve known,” Mike said as he retrieved a cup from behind the sales counter. “If I put out doughnuts, the cops will show up.”
“That’s an old wive’s tale,” Floyd said, shaking his head. “Cops prefer Danish.”
“What happened to your arm?” Mike asked, looking at Floyd’s sling.
“I lost an arm wrestling match with my girlfriend.”
Floyd followed Mike back to the coffee pot where Mike poured himself coffee. “Tell me again where you and Betsy spent the night Aaron Roberts disappeared.”
“We were necking in my car, and we fell asleep until daylight,” Mike said as he poured coffee into a yellow cup adorned with a logo of a Canadian lumber company.
“It doesn’t work for me, Mike. I checked with the National Weather Service, and the low temperature was five degrees that night. You would’ve had the car running to keep from freezing and if you’d done that, you’d have run out of gas. Try another version of the story on me.”
Mike stared at Floyd in disbelief. “You checked to see what the weather was that night?”
“Yup, and you’re lying. What’s the real story?”
“That’s the real story, Floyd.”
“Would you like to come to the courthouse and sit around in an interview room while we talk it over?”
“What is the big deal? Betsy and I spent the night together. What difference does it make if it was in the backseat of my car or in a motel room?”
“Were you in a motel room?”
“Sure! We rented a cheap motel room and shacked up there for the night. Does that solve your problem?”
“What motel?”
Mike took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “The Rock Creek Motel.”
“It wasn’t built until two years after that. Try again.”
“Jesus, Floyd. I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”
“You tell me. If it’s no big deal, why don’t you tell me where you spent the night?”
“It might be a big deal. We might’ve been somewhere we weren’t supposed to be.”
“You mean like someplace illegal. Did you break into the bank and spend the night having sex on the money bags?”
Mike looked around nervously, and then directed Floyd to the manager’s office. “It’s about that bad,” he said as he closed the door. “We were in a lake cabin that was unoccupied for the winter. We turned the heat on and slept there. Does that satisfy your curiosity? Are you going to lock me up?”
“Did you break into the cabin?”
“Not exactly. We knew where the owners kept a spare key.”
“How did you know about the key?”
“Geez, Floyd. I could get a few people in some hot water over this.”
“Spill it.”
Mike took a deep breath. “Melissa’s uncle has a cabin on Round Lake, near Hinckley. She used to spend the 4th of July with them, and they kept a spare key under the deck in case they ever forgot to bring one along. Melissa took us out there a few times for parties and stuff, so we knew where the key was. She told us never to use it by ourselves, but that night… Whew, this gets even worse. Kenny scored a few Mollys from his buddy, Dog, and we decided to use the bedroom at Melissa’s uncle’s house.”
“When you say ‘our,’ who would that include?”
“I guess it wasn’t everyone,” Mike said, closing his eyes to visualize that night. “Betsy and I each popped a Molly and Kenny did too.”
“Are Mollys the same as Ecstasy?” Floyd asked, already knowing they were.
“Yeah. It’s some type of amphetamine that’s not as bad as meth, but you get almost the same rush. Mollys are pretty low risk.”
Floyd stared at Mike for a second, then asked, “If Mollys are low risk, would you object if your kids took them?”
Mike stared at Floyd for a moment in silence. “I wouldn’t want my kids to do much of anything I did as a teenager. Life is different now.”
“Tell me about Dog,” Floyd said. “I don’t remember his name coming up in any of the discussions about your group of friends.”
“He was some buddy of Ken’s not really part of our group.”
Floyd was searching his memory as Mike spoke. “Was Dog that drug dealer who lived outside Finalyson?” he asked.