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Chapter 19
Petersen swiveled in his chair and reached for a large black binder on a bookshelf. Julia’s heart skipped a beat at the label on the cover of the binder -- Stewart. May 15, 2004. Total devastation reduced to a name and a date.
Petersen must have caught her expression, because he sighed. “Our filing system,” he said. “Normally, none of the families see our...” He paused. “Our evidence binders.”
“I know it’s called a murder book,” Julia managed to say. “I read mysteries and thrillers. But it’s… it’s different when it’s my family.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “Gotta be.”
Avoiding her gaze, he thumbed through the book. It looked as if he’d gone through it numerous times. Some of the pages were dog-eared. A few held brown coffee-mug rings.
“Here it is. Guy’s name was Doug Bogusiewicz.” He scribbled it onto a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk.
Nico picked up the slip, scanned it then tapped it into his shirt pocket. “Thanks so much, Detective. Not sure if it’ll help, but I’d like to talk to him.”
Petersen shook his head. “Hope you can, but I doubt he’s still alive. Everyone in my old district knew the guy. Most of them had picked him up at some point. He was a frequent flyer in our drunk tank.” He sighed. “Horrible disease, alcoholism. Swallows people alive.”
“Thanks, Detective.” Nico reached across the desk and shook the guy’s hand. “I appreciate your help.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else you need,” he said as he stood up. “Happy to help.”
He reached for Julia’s hand, but she gave the detective a quick, hard hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything you did back then. I’m not sure I ever thanked you.”
Petersen smiled. “It’s great to see how well you’ve done for yourself. I don’t think anyone ever completely recovers from something awful like losing their whole family, but you survived. Sounds like you thrived.”
Julia managed a faint smile. “Hope to see you and your wife at Madeline’s one of these days.”
“We’ll make sure we stop by,” he promised.
Less than five minutes later, they were back in her car. “I’m gonna see if I can find Bogusiewicz,” Nico said as he typed on his phone. “His name isn’t very common, so…” He frowned as he studied his phone. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” Julia asked, leaning closer to see what Nico was looking at.
“There’s a guy by that name who’s a carpenter in the area. He makes and sells furniture. Has a showroom in Seattle. What are the odds?”
“It might not be him,” Julia warned. “Detective Petersen didn’t sound very hopeful we’d find him.”
“Not a very common name,” Nico said. “What are the chances of two guys named Doug Bogusiewicz in Seattle?”
“We’re gonna check him out?” Julia asked, a flicker of hope springing to life.
“Oh, yeah,” Nico said. He typed in an address on his phone and handed it to Julia. “You can navigate us there.”
Fifteen minutes later, they stepped out of the car in front of a modest storefront. The sign read ‘Doug’s Furniture’. Julia glanced at Nico, who was studying the store. Finally he glanced at her. “Let’s go inside and see if Doug is here.”
The inside of the store was wall-to-wall furniture including bedroom sets, tables, bookshelves and dining room sets. It was well-lit and smelled of wood and leather. A woman sitting behind a desk looked up and smiled. “Welcome. How may I help you?”
“Is Doug available?” Nico asked.
The woman, who looked to be in her forties, studied them for a long moment, her smile gradually fading. “Can I ask what this is about?”
“It’s about an old case in which he was a witness. We’d like to ask him some questions.”
After staring at them for an uncomfortably long time, as if hoping they’d back down and leave, she finally scowled and said, “I’ll see if he’s available.” She disappeared through a door behind the desk.
Five minutes later, a slender man with dark blond hair, wearing jeans and a blue tee shirt, walked through the door, followed by the woman. The man’s gaze touched on Julia, then Nico. “I’m Doug,” he said. “Who are you?”
Before Julia could say anything, Nico put his hand on her back and steered her toward Doug. “I’m Nico Elliott, and this is Julia Stewart. We wondered if we could ask you some questions about an explosion in a Hillman City neighborhood sixteen years ago.”
