The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [110]
Her cheeks turned red. “I didn’t want to mention any names to your clerk since all I had was a wild hunch that Simon and Edwin were actually interested in old knowledge, not new. I hoped you’d understand it as code for something important.”
“Yeah.” Roelke was reaching the end of his endurance. “I’m sorry about Mr. and Mrs. Frietag. The ME said it looked like they both died of natural causes. Seems unlikely, but he’ll sort it out.” He stood, wiping his palms on his trousers. “Just one more thing. Simon Sabatola killed his wife.”
Chloe’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“He followed her that morning, took the gun from her hand, and shot her himself. We’ve got hard evidence.” Roelke turned toward the door. “I gotta head to work.”
“Wait!” Chloe jumped to her feet. “That is—do you have another minute?” She hurried from the room and returned with a piece of paper. “This letter arrived for Dellyn yesterday. Bonnie sent it to a friend in Guatemala, and asked her to forward it back here. I had it with me when I went to New Glarus.”
“Why didn’t you show me this last night?”
“Because Dellyn hadn’t seen it yet,” Chloe said. “I waited until after the blood transfusions, when she was feeling a little better.”
Roelke took the letter, and began to read.
Dear Dellyn,
I’m asking Susie to send this so it arrives well after my funeral. Someone may be monitoring your mail. That probably sounds paranoid, but you have no idea what my life has been like since I married Simon. And I pray you never will.
Sweetie, I’m so sorry it’s come to this. I wish I knew another way out. But Simon will never let me go.
Please forgive me. I love you forever. I pray that memories of our carefree childhood provide what you need to make your own way.
Bonnie
Roelke thought about Bonnie Sabatola’s desperation, and Erin Litkowski’s, and resisted the urge to crumple the letter in his fist. You got the bastard, he reminded himself. This time, you got him.
“I’ll need to take this into evidence,” he told Chloe.
“I know. Dellyn does, too.”
“How is she?” Roelke asked, as she walked him to the door.
“A lot of stitches. A lot of pain.” Chloe sighed. “She was sleeping when we left the hospital.”
“She’s going to need a good friend,” Roelke said. “I’m glad she’s got you.”
He was out the door and headed toward his truck when the screen door slammed. “Roelke?” Chloe ran after him.
For a moment he thought she was going to talk about Meili, about her obvious decision. Not today, he told her silently. Please, not today.
She surprised him, though. “What happened to the dog? Ajax?”
“Animal control took custody.”
“I don’t think he’s a bad dog,” she said anxiously. “He only attacked Dellyn because he was ordered to, you know?”
“Yeah. And once he had her down, he could have killed her outright. Gone for the jugular.”
Chloe grimaced. “He could have gotten me, too. Guest had trained him to attack on command, but also just to threaten people into staying still. What happened isn’t the dog’s fault.”
“Buckley—one of the New Glarus cops—mentioned that too,” Roelke said. “In fact, he said Ajax reminded him of a shepherd he used to own. I think the dog will be OK.”
“Thank goodness,” Chloe said fervently.
How many women, after what she’d been through, would be worried about the dog? “I gotta go,” Roelke repeated, before he said or did something really stupid.
_____
By the time Roelke got to the office, Marie had coffee made. “Has Skeet been in?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “And the chief wants to see you.”
Roelke had been in trouble with the chief before, so he had a sense of what to expect. He’d saved time this go-round by typing up a list of all the things he’d done wrong. Before heading into the inner office, Roelke reviewed the key points. His first mistake had been refusing to let Deputy Bandacek call in the county evidence team the day Bonnie died. Then there was the fact that he’d missed the broken heel on Bonnie’s sandal. He hadn’t questioned Marie about the end of her conversation with Bonnie. He had caught the inconsistencies