“…he told me about a complicated murder case she’d prosecuted and won. He said, ‘Amanda’s a real killer.A real killer.’ When I heard that he’d died in an accident, that was the first thing that popped into my head. Honestly, I’ll deny this if you tell anyone I said it, but Amanda is a cold-hearted bitch. I mean the lights are on in the kitchen, but there are bats in the attic.”
“Is that medical jargon?” Virgil asked.
“Take it for what it’s worth,” Baer said. “And it is worthsomething.”
—
Virgil considered that,then said: “Back to Tina Locklin. I am looking at the death, the murder, of Doris Grandfelt. That wasway back about the time Timothy Carlson had gotten divorced, and was looking for something younger and sexier, which Doris Grandfelt was.”
“You don’t think Tina…”
“The question is out there,” Virgil said.
Now Baer leaned forward, pointed a finger at Virgil’s chest: “Tina is one of the softest, mildest people I’ve ever met. Not timid, but…ethical. Kind. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Sometimes people break.”
“Not Tina. I watched her deal with a hundred very worried patients in our practice. Scared people, sometimes making outrageous demands. We were all surgeons, so when people came to us, they had serious problems. Tina was the most caring kind of nurse. I haven’t paid much attention to this Grandfelt thing, but I know what’s going on. It seems like Grandfelt was murdered in her workplace. Is that correct? If she was, it had to be in the middle of the night when nobody was around…”
“That’s one assumption,” Virgil said. “I guess it’s the main assumption.”
“How would Tina even have gotten in the building? You people are looking at DNA recovered from Grandfelt, which means whoever had sex with her must have been there. You think Tina was standing around holding Tim’s undershorts while he was screwing Grandfelt?”
“That doesn’t seem likely,” Virgil conceded.
“If it’s a big accounting firm, don’t you think they’d lock their doors at night? I mean, I know how Grandfelt got in. She worked there. How would Tina get in?”
“She could have followed Carlson…”
“Then what? She stuck her foot in the door as it was closing, and Timothy never saw her?”
“Okay.”
“I’m telling you: you can talk to Tina, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. She had nothing to do with a murder.”
—
Virgil pulled atan earlobe, thinking, and said, “You know Amanda Fisk worked at Bee at the time of the murder.”
“What!”
“She says she actually met Timothy Carlson during the investigation. He was a client of Bee’s, and she consulted on some contract matters.”
“So you’re looking at two violent deaths attended by the stone-eyed bitch from hell, and you’re asking questions about Tina?”
“We’re looking at everything,” Virgil said. He asked, “You seem to more than dislike Amanda.”
“I dislike her. Strongly dislike her, but I don’t hate her. She and Timothy were an odd couple. Timothy could be quite cold with some people, warmer with others, and he loved his dogs. He’d loved his dogs from the time he was a child, to hear him tell it. I believe he was sincere. But Amanda. Well, I have no solid reason to think she’s a terrible person…but I sense that she might be.”
“Does she know you think that?”
Baer shook his head: “I have no reason to think so. Timothy was a friend and a golfing partner. We were both members at Turtle Lake Golf. Amanda and I are…congenial when we have to be.”
“Could you find out when Tina Locklin is at work?”
Baer glanced at his watch. “She’d be getting off about now—she goes in early, her shift would usually be about six to three. I have her phone number, I believe, I could give her a call. She lives down in St. Paul.”
“Could you do that? I could meet her at her house,” Virgil said. “Don’t tell her too much—just that I want to talk to her about Timothy Carlson.”
