Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
So Weeps the Willow - 25. Salix Babylonica 3 - Cracks Appear
Cracks Appear
Susceptible to numerous disease problems including blights, powdery mildew, leaf spots and cankers. It also is visited by many insect pests including aphids, scale, borers, lacebugs and caterpillars. Wood is weak and tends to crack. Branches may be damaged by ice and snow. Litter from leaves, twigs and branches may be a problem. Shallow roots may clog sewers or drains and make gardening underneath the trees difficult.
Salix babylonica description from a tree catalog
Rush unclipped the ID in the plastic sleeve from his belt and reattached it to his front jacket pocket where it was even more prominent. Rush had read and reread it a couple of times. It was a temporary Hennepin County Sheriff’s Department’s consultant credentials, expiring in two weeks.
Hammond had gotten him the authorization after the private investigator promised to help him with the Wylie matter. Rush wasn’t sure what he could do, because they had a team working on both cases, but he was curious about Ogden’s case and the cause of his death. Hardly anyone on the team was working on Jake’s case, because Wylie’s was such an enigma. Rush would work Wylie, but he was more concerned about the Ogden case.
Rush considered what the facts were as Hammond outlined them.
Jake’s case was pretty much worked up. He went to bed, a heater spewed deadly carbon monoxide gas, and he died.
The heater was tampered with in some esoteric and sophisticated way. The fail-safe switch hadn’t worked allowing the heater to run when it shouldn’t have.
Jake and Wylie were secret lovers who someone wanted to kill.
Hammond had said, “Figure out who killed Wylie and you figured out who killed Jake.”
This exemplified the blasé attitude he’d encountered of the sheriff’s department concerning the situation. He’d heard the talk, from afar, and nearby.
Rush wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t convinced Wylie and Jake were together in any way except as drinkers in the same bar. There were many reasons he doubted it, but mostly because everyone seemed so sure it had to be true.
He didn’t know who killed Wylie, and while the same person may have killed Jake too, the methods and signatures were quite different.
Rush also wanted to know all the particulars of the case from the perspective of the first responders. Sometimes they saw things they didn’t understand. They might remember an inconsistency that may not fit neatly into an official report. The smell of the bathroom. The lack of a smell. Even why an empty bucket was sitting in the middle of a studio apartment and what they thought it may mean.
In this case, it was the two firefighters who had first arrived at the scene. Fire departments in this jurisdiction worked gas investigations from the beginning throughout the report. They knew the case backwards and forwards. Meeting him at the fire station in south Minneapolis in their dining room, these witnesses could give Rush the crime scene perspective he needed.
He looked around, considering the space. This particular room had a door and was relatively apart from the rest of the space, except the kitchen, so maybe they’d speak more freely.
Rush didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he had the report and the inventory handy as well as the deposition transcripts, just in case something guided him towards a clue, or something interesting.
The room they placed him in had awards hanging on the walls and a tall showcase unit made of chrome with glass shelves. It was loaded with gold and silver-colored trophies; some figures holding tennis rackets, others poised with bowling balls in their hands, and even a couple of stylized people on skis. It was apparent the people in this station were athletes and took their competition seriously.
There was also a neat line of books squared against the wall on a long table. The titles were all fiction, mostly mysteries, but some horror and even a couple of classics.
The table was utilitarian in style, with a long table runner down the middle, gray and a bit ratty along the edges. In the center of the table sat a bowl of artificial fruit, plastic bananas and rubbery grapes, bright oranges and impossibly perfect pears and apples. It was a sad attempt at hominess.
“Mr. Romer?” a woman’s voice asked. “I’m Brenda Stangeland.” A man stood behind her, tense, and reserved.
Rush stood and shook her hand vigorously. “Please, call me Rush.”
She nodded and her bright, intelligent eyes looked him up and down quickly, efficiently, and after the handshake, she smiled approvingly.
“I’m Brandon. Brandon Freeman.” He was a stunning example of the male animal, Rush noted.
They shook hands as well, and then they all sat down. Rush carefully sized up the two firefighters out of the corner of his eye. They were sitting apart, but their body language suggested something far different. The guy’s legs were wide open and angled toward the woman. Her body leaned toward Brandon. There was an intimacy about them Rush sensed, but he didn’t comment.
“You wanted to speak with us?” Brenda asked. She was clearly the one in charge.
“Yeah, I have a couple of questions, but mostly, I want to hear about finding Jake Ogden’s body.” Rush saw their eyes narrow guardedly. He continued, “I’ve read all the reports and your depositions, but those are formal and don’t necessarily tell the whole story.”
“We didn’t leave anything out,” Brenda said quickly, and defensively. “All the information was reported.”
“Yes, it reads very completely.” Rush continued, “However, I want you to tell me again what you found. I’m looking for things like impressions or suspicions, gut feelings, not facts.”
Brandon reacted abruptly. “We’re trained observers and we collect data.”
“Of course,” Rush said. “I understand that, but please, humor me.” He then fingered the consultant tag pinned to his suitcoat. It was impressive, from afar, at least, or that’s what Ben had said.
“I don’t know,” Brenda responded. “It happened a while ago.” Rush noted she was the leader and was discretely protecting the fireman sitting next to her.
“Maybe if you look at the report and then simply talk your way through the scene for me.” Rush pushed the fire department report across the table to the pair. Brandon picked it up and started reading. Brenda scooted her chair closer reading over his shoulder. Rush could now see the sparks fly as their bodies neared. Brenda’s face softened, and Brandon’s flushed.
Brandon was the first to look up. Rush nodded his encouragement, and the firefighter glanced over at Brenda who also nodded.
“The first thing I remember was getting into our gear and heading into the apartment.”
“What did you think as you got your gear on?” Rush asked, interrupting the man.
Brandon paused and squinted his eyes, remembering. “It was warm, wasn’t it?”
“Before you entered, you did say something about the hallway being hot,” Brenda added.
“As I got on my equipment, I recall feeling sweat running down my back.”
“Go on,” Rush encouraged. “What else did you think?”
Brenda said, “You said it was too warm for a heater.”
“I did?” Brandon said. “I thought it, that’s for sure. The morning was pretty nice actually, and the hallway was really steamy.”
Brandon looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “I walked into the apartment and thought, what a tiny place this is. It’s really just a large room with a kitchen nook at the back and a bed in the middle with a table by the window and a small couch facing a television. It was a cramped space and felt very stuffy.”
“Could that have been because of the warmth?” Rush asked.
“No, the apartment wasn’t that hot. There was a window open and a breeze coming through the room.”
“The friend did that,” Brenda said. “She tried to revive him. At least, that was her statement at the scene.”
“I guess,” Brandon said.
Rush noticed the firefighter’s tone was dismissive. “What did you think of Natalie Howe?”
“I only met her in passing. Brenda spoke with her.”
“She was upset of course,” Stangeland began. “And she was quite worried about him. I got the impression, she thought Ogden was in a coma or something and not dead.”
“Interesting,” Rush said, scribbling furiously though he had a recorder going on the table in front of him. “Is that why she opened the window?”
“Yeah,” Brenda said slowly. “She was worried she’d get sick as well. So, she opened up the window and tried shaking the victim.”
“Did you ask her why she thought she’d get sick? I mean, she walked in and found her friend unresponsive. Why did she think it was the air?”
“She said the room was blazing hot and the heater was running and she thought it had to be that.”
“Wait a second,” Rush said. “First of all, how did she get in?”
“The door was unlocked.”
Rush looked surprised at Brenda. “The door was left open?”
“Yeah. We were surprised too, given the neighborhood. Ms. Howe knocked and when Ogden didn’t answer, she tried the knob and it was open.”
“That seems odd,” Rush said finally after a short pause. “Did she have a key?”
“She said she didn’t. We asked if she knew who did have a key, and she said Ogden’s mom and his ex.”
“His ex-boyfriend still had a key?”
“Ms. Howe was sure of it, and a later interview with Eddie Warner found he did still have a key.”
“But Howe didn’t?” Rush asked, and both of them nodded confirmation.
“What happened next?” Rush inquired. “After you entered the room.”
Brandon breathed deeply. “I was surprised the heater was off.”
“But, wasn’t it still on when Howe found it?”
Brenda said, “Yeah. She tried stopping it. When it wouldn’t shut off, she opened the window and left his apartment calling 911.”
“It was off when you entered the apartment.”
Brandon nodded. “The fuel tank was empty. It must have burned out by the time we got there.”
Rush nodded as he continued writing notes. “What else did you notice?”
“Nothing else really. I checked the victim and determined he had been dead for some time. I checked the kitchen area and bathroom and found the elevated levels of carbon monoxide, registered the readings, and then exited the apartment.”
Rush looked up from the paper. “Were there any other impressions you got from entering the place and leaving it?”
“I don’t think—two glasses,” he said quickly. “There were two wine glasses on the table.”
“That’s odd, isn’t it?” Rush asked. “Given the fact Jake had quit drinking a few days before.”
“Yeah, but the forensic team said it was grape juice, not wine.”
“He had a visitor,” Rush said. “Was it his ex who was supposed to visit or someone else?”
“I don’t know,” Brandon answered with a shrug.
“Did you meet Eddie?”
Both Stangeland and Freeman looked at each other and back at Rush nodding in tandem.
“What did you think?”
“He’s a weasel,” Brenda said. “He was very skittish.”
“He also lied about a couple of things. I wasn’t impressed.” Brandon added.
“Like what?” Rush asked. “He said he was never at the apartment that night, but the camera at the front door recorded him arriving at eleven the night before.” Rush considered his interviewees and then continued, “What else can you tell me?”
Brenda added, “And when confronted by the evidence, Warner said he came to the building but never went to Ogden’s apartment. He claims he left by the back door of the complex.”
“However, the camera at the front door showed him leaving at two in the morning.”
“The ex is definitely a suspect then, to you both?” Rush asked.
“We think he’s hiding something, and it could be Jake’s murder.” It was obvious both Brenda and Brandon were uncomfortable with the idea.
Rush thought about their discussion and then remembered the inventory list and pulled it out of his folder. He pushed the sheet across the table toward the firefighters.
Brenda picked it up and looked over it briefly. She handed it to Brandon, who looked more closely. “It’s just the list the police made of the items they found in the apartment.”
“Is there anything that jumps out at you about the list?”
“Not really,” Brandon said, running a finger down the paper. “It seems about right. The place was rather neat and clean and it wasn’t filled with crap like most homes.”
“Is there anything missing on this list?” Rush asked.
“It doesn’t list everything, I suppose,” the firefighter said. “For example, it doesn’t list the couch and table, the candy dish with change and the blankets. I mean, it lists the little items that are scattered about, not those things that are supposed to be there.”
“That’s because the scene is preserved in photos, but those small items can tell big stories,” Rush said, handing over the small folder with the scene photos. “What about these?”
“Nothing strikes me as odd,” Brandon said. “It was just a tiny apartment with a dead man inside of it.”
“Yeah,” Rush said, watching them closely.
“One more question.”
“Yeah?” Brenda looked up from the pictures.
“How did you catch the call for the fire at Sunset Pawn? That’s quite a way away from here.” Rush asked.
“Oh,” Brenda said. “Do you remember the Sunset Pawn heater thing?”
Brandon’s eyes continued poring over the photos. He said, “We were at the Cub grocery store when that call came through. We were only a couple blocks away.”
“Is that normal?” Rush asked.
“Brandon likes that Cub better.”
“Meat counter is better,” the firefighter added, and then he shook his head looking at another picture of the tragedy. “God, this is sad.”
- 16
- 5
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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