Glare Ice (14 page)

“Fair enough. And then four months later, he hits you again. And he’s sorry afterward, really sorry. Promises he’ll never do it again.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s hard to know unless it happens to you. I do think you’re a pretty healthy woman and you have learned to walk away from what hurts you, but we all have our weaknesses.”

“I suppose.”

“What if you were in love with a man and he loved you, and in order to have you he killed someone? Would you turn him in? Would you let all the world see what kind of man he really was? Or would you protect him? Cover up for him? Because you loved him.”

Claire sat still. She felt like she had been slugged in the belly. She couldn’t look at Dr. Potter. How could she have used that against her? How could she have pulled it out of the closet and stuck her with it?

“I know this is your job, but that hurt,” Claire finally said.

“I bet. But maybe it will help you understand this woman better. We all have our weak areas, as I said before. You have yours. You have begun to forgive yourself. You have some compassion for yourself. Carry it over to this woman.”

Claire sat and took in what Dr. Potter was saying. Dr. Potter uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. Claire was sure if you could read body language that this movement meant something. Then Dr. Potter asked, “What else is bothering you about this case?”

A feeling washed over Claire, strangely close to sorrow. She tried to describe it. “I feel so helpless. It’s my job to help people, to protect them. Stephanie lives in my town. I know her. But she won’t let me help her. I can’t seem to protect her. We were eating turkey, and she was getting beaten to a pulp. It makes me sick.”

“I bet. It should.”

“What can I do?”

“Just feel it. Just know you’re feeling it. It makes you a good deputy. You care about people.”

Claire was surprised that Dr. Potter’s words made her feel better. She hadn’t told her anything she could do to get over the feeling, yet her words were still reassuring. “Can you tell me anything else that will help me reach her before it’s too late?”

“I have worked with several abused women. It isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but what I’ve learned is that they usually have something in their lives that they will fight for. It often isn’t themselves. Often their children, sometimes friends, family. If you can find out what that is, you can get them to stand up for themselves. The other thing I’ve seen is that they do need to stand up for themselves. They might suffer immediately, but eventually it is the only way to end the abuse.”

Claire thought about Stephanie and finding her lying in the snow in her driveway. One thing that had struck Claire was that the dog hadn’t been hurt. The dog was so small and defenseless. What had Stephanie done so that the dog hadn’t been hurt?

“I think the dog is the answer.”

I
T’S
grown four inches in the last three days,” Meg told her mother after carefully measuring the amaryllis plant.

The plant was shooting up a thick green stalk with a bud on the end. The stalk was as big around as two of her fingers put together. Meg was hoping that it would bloom on Christmas Eve. A present for everyone. That would be perfect. Every morning she checked it. Beatrice had told her only to water the amaryllis every few days, but not to let it go bone dry. “The nourishment comes from the bulb,” Beatrice had told her.

“That is one amazing plant.” Her mother was making oatmeal for the two of them. “I thought I’d drive you to school this morning.”

Meg ran and got bowls and spoons and handed them to her mom. “Yay! That bus ride is too dang long.”

“Where did you learn to say ‘dang’?”

“Everyone on the school bus says even worse. Especially the boys. They swear all the time. The bus driver just ignores it.”

“Well, you might want to follow suit.” Claire dished out a big bowl of oatmeal and handed Meg the brown sugar in a plastic bowl. Meg’s theory was, put enough brown sugar on anything and it was edible.

After three spoonfuls, her mother decided to put a stop to it. “Hey, leave some for me.”

Meg handed back the brown sugar.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk about my conference with your teacher last night. I thought we could talk about it today before school.” Her mom handed her the milk in a small white pitcher. It was nice and cold from the refrigerator.

Meg made a face. She had worried about that dang conference last night before bed. It had even kept her up for a while. But she hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

“What do you think of Mr. Turner, Meg?”

This had to be a trick question. “Truthfully?”

“Yes, you can say how you really feel to me.”

“But I know I’m supposed to be respectful of my teachers.”

“I’m glad you’ve learned that. And I don’t want you to forget it, but people also have to earn your respect.”

“I think he’s a meanie,” Meg told her. “Why?”

Meg made a well in the middle of her oatmeal and poured in the milk. “Hey, I’m just a kid, and he likes to push me around. And I’m not the only one in class that he does it to. But I think he picks on me more because I’m smarter. I think that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t like me.”

“I think you might be right. Do you think you are smarter than him?”

Meg looked at her mom to see if she could figure out what was the right answer to that question. Her mother’s face was a blank. Meg decided to just say what she thought. If it got her in trouble, at least she would get her mother’s honest reaction. “I’m not much dumber than him right now, and when I’m his age, I’m going to be a lot smarter than he is, that’s for sure.”

Her mother nodded. “I think you’re right again. You are smart. Now let me ask you another question. I don’t think you and Mr. Turner are getting along very well. Do you think there’s anything you can do to change that?”

Meg was afraid of this. Now the lecture was coming. She said what she knew her mother would want her to say.

“Do what he says,” she said reluctantly. Then she started to eat her oatmeal.

“Yes, you could do that. But I think you’re smart enough to figure out a way so that Mr. Turner thinks he’s getting what he wants, but you also get what you want. I think you need to work on this problem. You’ve had nice teachers up till now, and I’m glad. But there are a lot of Mr. Turners in this world. I don’t like him very much, but he is your teacher. I’d like to see you try to win this battle with Mr. Turner without getting into more trouble. To do that, you need to make Mr. Turner think that he has won.”

“Wow, Mom. That’s really complicated.”

“Do you think you could try?”

“Sure, I can try.” She was nearly finished with her oatmeal. Mom would drive her to school. Everything was possible. “It might be kinda fun.”

“That’s my girl. I did ask Mr. Turner to let you read in class if you got all your work done. I think he’s agreeable to that.”

Meg looked up at her mom. She felt relieved that they had talked about Mr. Turner and her mother hadn’t yelled at her. But there was something else that had been bothering her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. “The kids on the bus are saying that the woman who got beaten almost died. They said she doesn’t have any face left. Is that true?”

Her mom picked up her bowl and brought it to the sink. Then she turned and leaned against the sink and said, “She was badly beaten, but she’s doing pretty well. Her face is going to be fine. I would prefer you not talk to the kids about the work I’m doing.”

“Oh, I know that, Mom. You already told me. But I can’t help it if they talk about it to me?”

“I guess not.”

“I’m worried about the little dog.”

“You don’t need to be, sweetie. You know Rich will take good care of him.”

Then Meg brought up her real concern. “But what if that man comes to our house?”

“I know it’s hard to understand, but that man is only after Stephanie. It’s like he thinks he owns her, that he can do what he wants with her, but he can’t.”

“Are you going to stop him, Mom?”

“Yes
, whatever it takes, I will stop him.”

“Is Tom Jackson there?”

“Yeah, let me try his desk. I saw him walk into the office a few minutes ago. Give me a sec.”

Billy had called the Eau Claire police department to give Tom Jackson a heads-up on the Stephanie Klaus case. He hadn’t really told Watkins the complete truth the other night. He wasn’t sure why, except that he wanted to hear what she had to say first before he revealed how well he knew Tom. Then when he heard what it was about, he decided he should keep quiet.

He and Jackson had been good buddies when they were at the academy. He had stuck pretty close to the truth. Jackson was ahead of him at the academy and was very serious. But Jackson had helped him out on assignments a number of times, and Billy felt like he owed him. This phone call would barely begin to pay him back.

Jackson came on the line. After exchanging greetings, Billy got right to the point. “A deputy from here is checking up on you for an assault case.”

“Thanks for calling about that. She stopped by the other day. What was her name? Watson, Watkins? Man, she’s a looker. I’d like to do mouth-to-mouth on that deputy sheriff any old day.”

“Yeah, Watkins is all right.” Billy never liked the cracks guys made about Claire. Some women played the babe part, but Claire never acted provocative in any way. She did her job straight on.

“She think I have anything to do with Stephanie?”

“We went out for a drink the other night. She really didn’t say too much. Just was asking about you. Thought I’d let you know.”

“Hey, I appreciate it. I’d like to be kept abreast of the situation.”

“So you were married to this Stephanie Klaus? I don’t think I even knew you’d been married. You’ve been staying in touch with her? Still friends?”

“Naw, not really. We were married before I was at the academy. After the divorce, we didn’t have too much to do with each other. I still see her folks in town once in a while, but her dad never liked me that much. To tell you the truth, I’d pretty much forgot all about her. Until this Watkins showed up. So can you give me a good word with her?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“How is Stephanie doing?”

“I haven’t seen her. Buddy of mine is working the case with Claire. From the sound of it, she got it pretty bad. Beat up with a champagne bottle. You got any idea who might have done this to her? Anyone from her past?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. I don’t think Stephanie liked champagne,” Tom said and then chuckled as if he had made a joke.

“But I guess she’s recovering pretty good. She’s still in the hospital.”

“What hospital?”

For a moment, Billy thought of not telling him. It was sort of confidential information. But Tom was a cop too. He might come up with something. “St. Catherine’s, here in Durand.”

“Listen, if you do see her, say hi to her from me, would you?”

As Claire drove through Fountain City, she saw the bank sign flash the temperature as zero degrees and the time as twelve-twenty. The day was clear and sunny. The coldest days were usually sunny, brittle in their brightness, the snow creaking beneath each footstep. The sky looked like an enameled blue bowl over the white cup of the bluffs.

As she left the town, she saw bald eagles sitting on the edge of the river ice where the water still ran open, waiting to scavenge dead, floating fish.

Claire had thought about calling John Klaus, but then realized that she needed to see him in person. He was Stephanie’s older brother. He was a lawyer. He had been close to Stephanie. He might be Claire’s way in to her. It was worth a try.

Before she had left for Winona, she had pulled the phone records on Buck Owens and Stephanie Klaus. Although local calls could not be retrieved, long distance calls were kept on record. John Klaus had called Stephanie several times in recent weeks. Not so unusual for siblings to do. But there had also been a call from Winona to Buck Owens. It had been made at a pay phone. Maybe it meant nothing, but she would ask about it.

She had almost nothing else to go on in his murder case. The crime lab had found nothing useful in the car. She felt like they were at a dead end. Claire kept coming back to the link she felt existed between Buck’s death and Stephanie’s beating. Maybe she would find it in Winona.

She drove over the river to cross into Minnesota and then located the main street of Winona. The small town, like most of the river towns, was being discovered. John Klaus was a real estate lawyer; if he was able to take advantage of the boom time, he was probably prospering.

His office was in a thirties-style bungalow, a one-story house built of dark brick. She walked in the front door, and the secretary took her name, staring at her uniform. Claire had called ahead for an appointment but hadn’t explained the nature of the meeting. She wanted an element of surprise. She wanted to see how John Klaus behaved when he was caught off guard.

He walked out of his office and held out his hand to her. Even though he looked young, he seemed very confident, and not at all surprised to see Claire in her deputy’s uniform. When Claire got her first look at him, she was surprised at what a handsome man he was. But while the resemblance to his father was striking, there was little similiarity between him and Stephanie. John Klaus was around five-ten, but seemed taller as he stood ramrod-straight. He had thick, sandy hair cut short and was wearing a well-cut suit.

“I didn’t realize you were a police officer,” he admitted as they shook hands.

“Deputy sheriff,” Claire corrected.

“Is this about Stephanie? I don’t know if I can be of help to you.” He didn’t motion her into his office.

“Can we step into your office?” Claire suggested.

“Certainly.” He waved her in.

The room had floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves on one wall. Various diplomas and certificates were hung on the opposite wall. His desk was in the front of a large, many-paned window that looked out onto the street.

He settled behind his desk, and she sat in one of the red leather chairs opposite it. “Your sister, Stephanie, was badly beaten several days ago.”

“I’m aware of that. I’ve been to see her at the hospital.”

“She says she doesn’t know who beat her up. I’m not sure I believe her. I’m wondering if you could shed any light on this incident.”

John Klaus sunk his face into his hands and then came out of them and looked at Claire. “I wish I could. I talked to her about that. She stonewalled me too. When I saw what that creep had done to her with a bottle of champagne, I couldn’t believe it. I’m praying that she will recover her health and her looks. I don’t know if you knew her from before, but Stephanie was a very pretty woman.”

“Yes, she was.” Claire remembered her smile. “Did you ask her what had happened?”

“Yes. But she wouldn’t tell me who had done it. I tried to get it out of her.”

“Can you guess who it might be?”

“Lately Stephanie and I haven’t been as close as we once were. I married this last year, and she doesn’t care for my wife. It’s unfortunate. I fear she might be a little jealous. In fact, it’s been months since I’ve seen her.”

“Did you know Buck Owens, Stephanie’s friend?”

“Never met the guy. Just heard about him from Stephanie. But wasn’t he killed recently when his car went through the ice?”

“Yes. Stephanie’s had a rough time lately. Sounds like your childhood wasn’t that idyllic either. Did your father abuse you both?”

John Klaus stiffened. His easy manner disappeared, and his eyes shifted away from her face and out the window for a moment. When he spoke, Claire detected anger in his voice. “Our father did the best he could. He had a temper. No big deal.”

“What about her ex-husband? Could he have come after Stephanie? Been jealous of Buck?”

“Now, that’s a possibility. She did tell me that he could be very difficult sometimes.”

“Has he seen her lately?”

“Not that I know of, but Stephanie probably wouldn’t tell me if they were in touch. She knew I didn’t approve of him. They married while I was in the service. When I came out, it was a done deal. But she came to regret it.”

“Why? Why did they get divorced?”

John Klaus shrugged his shoulders. “Just not suited at all. Stephanie’s a very sensitive woman. She was lucky to be rid of him.”

Claire could hear the affection for Stephanie in his voice. “Is there anyone else you can think of that Stephanie might have confided in?”

“Not really. She was always kind of a loner. Kept to herself. We had each other when we were growing up, but then I left to join the Marines. She was on her own. I think that’s why she got married. She never made women friends easily.”

Claire had found that to be the case. She had called the women that worked with Stephanie at the W.A.G. factory and the women artists she had shared a booth with at the art fair. They all said she was nice, but quiet. Kept to herself. Seemed a little wary. Never picked up on their overtures to be friends.