* * *

  On his way home after work, Kelly caught a newscast on the radio. The main story was another oil train derailment, two tanker cars blowing up near Battle Lake in Minnesota, but that was followed with a story about tomorrow's memorial service, with Naughton employees from around the country attending. The report included a comment from Diane Lundeman, taking a turn as company spokesperson:

  "We hold meetings a few times a year that include employees from across the nation and from several other countries. We considered cancelling this week's meeting, but the overwhelming message from our employees was that they wanted to come. From New York to California, Europe to Australia, they wanted to be here to pay their respects and show their support for the families of the victims and for all their colleagues in the Naughton family here in Fargo."

  "Slick," thought Kelly. He could hear the hitch in Diane's voice, and figured her emotion would be even more effective in the television coverage.

  Kelly didn't see any media vehicles as he neared his apartment – though he hadn't really expected to, given all the other news. He started up the front steps, but spotted Ted and Jerry sitting at the old patio table in the shade of the big elm tree. Ted waved, and Kelly changed course to join them.

  "Jerry was just about to tell me about a murder at one of his properties." Ted wore his old jungle hat – a familiar part of his summer attire.

  "Not a murder," corrected Jerry. "Just a dead guy."

  "I stand corrected," said Ted.

  Jerry wore blue jeans and a grey tank-top undershirt. He hadn't shaved for a couple days. "This was probably 15 years ago," said Jerry. "Real heavy guy. Not that old, either. Late 50s I think. He was retired on disability from the sugar factory. Drank a lot. Fell in the kitchen. His brother found him. He'd been dead four days they figured. I had to put in new linoleum."

  "Still have the place?" asked Kelly.

  "Oh, yeah."

  "Do you tell renters a guy died there?" asked Ted.

  Jerry shook his head. "No way."

  Ted turned his attention to Kelly. "What do you hear from work?"

  Kelly hadn't seen either of them since getting called back in. He brought them up to speed, explaining his new assignment and cracking them up with the anecdote about scaring Westby in the pharmacy storage room.

  "And the public relations consultant came up with a way to save this week's big sales meeting. They were thinking of moving it or postponing, but instead they're framing it as an opportunity for the employees to participate in the big community-wide memorial service."

  Ted nodded, appreciating the strategy. "Allowing them to go forward with the meeting without seeming insensitive."

  "Right. And corporate motives aside, I think it's the right call. It's a good thing. You could even say it was fortunate that we had folks coming in this week. It will be a nice show of support."

  "Corporate and community interests are compatible most of the time," said Ted. "But conflicts get the most attention."

  "That's right," said Jerry. "It's like landlords. We get a bad rap, but we're an important part of the community."

  "Indeed you are," said Ted with a smile.

  "One other thing," said Kelly. "Detective Amundson searched my car. He's still not sure about me. I'm glad the media wasn't around for that."

  "They're preoccupied with the Battle Lake derailment," said Ted.

  "I owned a house by the tracks once," said Jerry. "Right on Main Avenue. Could never keep a tenant very long. The place was a real pain in the ass. Always cracks in the walls. And that was back before they stopped blowing their horns in town. That was loud as hell, like they were right inside the house; and that reminds me of a tenant I had who worked for the railroad ..."

  Before Jerry could launch into the story, Kelly excused himself, leaving Ted to hear the tale. Kelly had time to do his sit-ups and pushups, but had to forego the running. When he arrived to pick up Jessica, she was waiting outside, looking great in jeans, tennis shoes and a white oxford shirt.

  When they arrived at the house, Kelly's mom seemed equally impressed. Kelly knew she would be, even though she had a history of being less than enthusiastic about Kelly's girlfriends.

  Kelly and Jessica settled at the kitchen table. Tanya Kelly filled salad bowls at the counter.

  "There are Gulsvigs at our church," said Tanya.

  "That would be my Dad's cousin, Danny, and his family."

  "Seven kids," said Tanya, as she brought out the salads. "Lots of children in your family, too?"

  The polite conversation continued through the salad and the chicken and dumplings, with Kelly's mom and Jessica seeming to hit it off, finding common interests like quilting and Janet Evanovich novels. Kelly was mostly relegated to listener, though he did speak up in his own defense during exaggerated stories about his potty training and getting lost at the mall.

  "Once, when he was six or seven, he spray-painted the car's new tires," said his mom.

  Jessica gave Kelly a bemused smile.

  Kelly shrugged. "I saw some old cars at a show that had whitewalls. Seemed like a good idea."

  After they ate, Jessica helped clean up while Kelly turned his attention to the kitchen's problematic back door.

  "I suppose the murders have really upset things for you at work," said Tanya to Jessica.

  "More so for Kelly. And I really haven't been there long enough to know what normal is like. So, for me, I guess all the security and nervousness is normal."

  Kelly found a loose hinge that allowed the door to sag, causing the misalignment. While Jessica and his mom continued to visit, he retrieved some larger screws from the garage.

  "Did Kelly tell you his car was searched today?" asked Jessica.

  "No," said Kelly's mom, throwing Kelly a why-didn't-you-tell-me glance.

  "It was detective Amundson again," said Kelly as he re-secured the hinge. "I feel a little better about him, though. I think the profile he came up with isn't why he suspects me. It's because I was walking around the administration wing with the lights off. That reason makes more sense."

  "Why on earth were you walking around with the lights off?" asked his mom.

  "So I could see outside, watch the rain."

  "He always did like the rain," said Tanya to Jessica. She turned back to Kelly. "But why does that make you feel better about Amundson?"

  Kelly tossed the screwdriver back in the tool drawer. "The profile's insulting. Makes me out to be a sniveling coward who needs attention."

  "And having a good reason to suspect you is better?"

  "It just seems more fair."

  Tanya looked at Jessica. "Maybe you should try to find a normal boy."

 
Rex Evans Wood's Novels