that we’re aware of. Look, your dad was known for being opinionated, and he was a take-charge, bullish kind of man. That was balanced by his natural charisma and all around good nature. Bottom line, people liked him.”
“What about when he got let go from the police force?”
“Yeah, that was a long time ago, but apparently, people felt like your dad was set up. Nobody liked what happened to him, so he was pretty much handed the customs job.”
“How was he set up?”
Tobias slopped up the last of the egg yolk with the remainder of the toast and pushed aside his empty plate. He looked at me. His green eyes were thoughtful. “You really don’t know much about what happened?”
I shook my head. “My father never spoke about it to us.” I didn’t add that we’d been too scared to probe. The temper my father showed with us had not extended past the inside of our home.
I wasn’t surprised that everyone liked him. He’d been adept at hiding his rages behind a mask of good old boy charm. It seemed unlikely that Tobias knew I’d been estranged from my father. My father would never have let on. “After my mother died...”
Tobias shifted uneasily in his seat. “Yeah, sorry about that too. I never saw you around Duved Cove after the funeral. She died soon after your father’s dismissal, now that I think about it.” I could almost hear the gears in his head clicking.
“It wasn’t our best spring,” I said.
“No, I guess not.”
I reached behind me for my purse slung over the back of my chair. “Jonas said you’d let us know when we can have my father’s body. We’re going to have a quiet burial.”
Tobias waved aside my money. “This is on me. The autopsy is scheduled for later today in Duluth. I’m driving down there after I leave you. We’ll send your father’s body back tonight to the Fisk Funeral Home.”
“Thanks.”
“You staying up at Jonas’s then?”
“Yes. We’ll be waiting to hear from you if you find out anything.”
“I’m pretty sure the autopsy’s going to show he died from the shovel blow to the back of the head.” Tobias paused and added more gently, “At least it was quick.”
We left the warmth of the restaurant and headed to our cars. Tobias walked past his to mine and reached around me to swing my door open. As I lowered myself into the seat, he leaned over the top of the window and said, “Don’t go back into your father’s house until we’ve had a chance to go through it, Maja. Unfortunately, we don’t have the police force of a larger town, and Chief Anders is using up some leave and David Keating’s wife just had their fourth kid, so he’s been a little preoccupied.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I’d keep my promise, but it seemed best to let him think I would. “Is that the same Anders who was chief twenty years ago?
“The very same, but not for much longer. He’s easing into retirement. I’m organizing the goodbye party for March.”
“Nice seeing you again, Tobias.” I turned the key in the ignition.
“Likewise,” he said and grinned at me like I was someone worth smiling over. “It’s just too bad it was your father’s death that brought you home.” He sounded wistful, like he’d hoped I’d have made the trip for more nostalgic reasons.
“It’s not the way I’d want it either,” I said as I swung the door shut.
When I pulled onto the main road, I could still see Tobias in my rearview mirror, watching me from where he leaned against the hood of his squad car with his arms folded across his chest.
I found Jonas out back in his workshop. He was slicing up a board with a table saw and the loud grinding noise of the blade kept him from hearing my approach. Thick glasses protected his eyes from floating sawdust, and with his fly-away mass of blonde curls, he resembled a mad scientist hunched over some fiendish experiment. I waited for him to finish his handiwork so that I wouldn’t startle him. I used the time to look around.
Jonas was as meticulous as anyone I knew. He craved order, everything in its place and predictable. His workspace was organized and clean to the point of obsession. Hand tools hung in rows on the wall, while nails and other items were in pull-out boxes, carefully labeled. Directly in front of me was a wooden tabletop attached to the wall with a stool tucked underneath. He’d installed three fluorescent lights that illuminated every corner of the cedar-panelled room. The air smelled of sawdust, varnish and linseed oil—all comforting and solid. When Jonas finally saw me, he removed the glasses and smiled. “You were up early.”
“I went to Dad’s and had a look around.”
Jonas’s eyebrows shot up, and I knew I’d surprised him. “Was it like you remembered?”
“Pretty much. He had some new furniture and stuff. Same view out my bedroom window though. Where are Claire and Gunnar? I looked inside before I came back here, and they’re nowhere around.”
“They’ve gone to the school. Claire is getting some big art project ready for the kids tomorrow. She’s also trying to keep Gunnar from thinking about Dad’s death. Sam called this morning, by the way.” Jonas ran his hand back and forth along the wood, feeling for rough spots.
“I left Sam a message on the kitchen table that I was coming. He’d gone to New York on business, and I didn’t want to bother him.” My voice came out false in my own ears. In fact, I’d tried calling Sam in his hotel room the night before I’d left and again in the morning before leaving for the airport, but both times he hadn’t answered. Perversely, I’d chosen not to leave a voice mail. It struck me that I hadn’t thought of Sam since I’d stepped off the plane in Duluth.
“Have you eaten?” Jonas asked.
“Yes. Why don’t you finish what you’re working on and I’ll go amuse myself.”
“Okay. I’ll be up to the house in a bit.”
“Take your time,” I said as I turned to leave.
Sam answered on the second ring. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you got the news,” he said. “Is it very bad being there?”
“No. It’s okay.”
“Still, it’s always a shock when a parent dies. It must have been sudden?”
I could have told him then that my father had been murdered, but for some reason, I didn’t. “It was...unexpected. The funeral’s in a few days so I’ll stay till then. Can you call Judith to let her know to cancel my patients for the next week?”
“Okay. Will it take that long?”
“I think so. There’s a bit to straighten out.”
“Was it a heart attack or stroke?”
“No. They’re still not certain. The autopsy will show the exact cause. How was your trip?”
Sam’s
