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Authors: Kathleen Ernst

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Tradition of Deceit

BOOK: Tradition of Deceit
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Copyright Information

Tradition of Deceit: A Chloe Ellefson Mystery
© 2014 by Kathleen Ernst.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author's copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First e-book edition © 2014

E-book ISBN: 9780738741024

Book format by Bob Gaul

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover illustration by Charlie Griak

Editing by Nicole Nugent

Interior photos: 1. Turn-Head Distributor © Scott Meeker
2. Pillsbury-Washburn Mills © Minnesota Historical Society
3. Bohemian Flats © F.M. Laraway. Minnesota Historical Society
4. Kosciuszko Park © Roman Kwasnieweski. Archives Department, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Libraries

5. Wycinanki sample © Wisconsin Historical Society

Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Midnight Ink does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publisher's website for links to current author websites.

Midnight Ink

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www.midnightinkbooks.com

Manufactured in the United States of America

dedication

In honor of the immigrants who have labored in America's cities, dreaming of better times; and the historians and interpreters who rescue their stories from obscurity.

author's note

The Mill City Museum, operated by the Minnesota Historical Society, was created in the ruins of what was once the world's largest flour mill. The museum is a testament to the vision of many groups and individuals, who persevered in the face of enormous challenges—
including a disastrous fire that took place after the events depicted in this novel. Today the museum is surrounded by a revitalized urban area. I have of necessity simplified the redevelopment process within the novel.

The Washburn A Mill was constructed in 1874 on the banks of the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. It was known for much of its history as the Washburn-Crosby Mill. Gold Medal Flour became a brand in 1880; in 1928, the Washburn-Crosby Company merged with others to form General Mills. I kept things simple by generally referring to the mill by its original name, but I've otherwise done my best to present an accurate glimpse of the mill's human history in the century or so spanned within the story. Much has also been written about Bohemian Flats, and I relied heavily on accounts and photographs when describing the colorful community.

In Milwaukee, Kosciuszko Park and the Basilica of St. Josaphat remain at the heart of the vibrant Lincoln Village neighborhood. It is impossible to visit this historic community without imagining the hardworking immigrants who not only created new homes, but monuments to their faith and cultural history as well. The district police station, the basilica, the park, and Forest Home Cemetery are all located along Lincoln Avenue in the Old South Side.

When appropriate, I made choices to help readers visualize places that may be familiar. For example, Lincoln Village wasn't named until later.

To learn more about the featured historic places and museums, visit:

The Mill City Museum:

http://www.millcitymuseum.org/

Lincoln Village and Kosciuzko Park:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincoln_Village,_Milwaukee

The Basilica of St. Josaphat:

http://thebasilica.org/

Old South Side Settlement Museum:

http://www.urban-anthropology.org/Museuminfo.html

Milwaukee County Public Museum:

http://www.mpm.edu/

You'll find photographs of some of the artifacts and places mentioned in the story on pages 343–345.

You can also find many more photographs, maps, and other resources on my website, http://www.kathleenernst.com.

cast of characters

Contemporary Timeline (1983), Minneapolis

Chloe Ellefson—curator of collections, Old World Wisconsin

Ariel Grzegorczyk—curatorial assistant, Minnesota Historical Society

Toby Grzegorczyk—Ariel's brother

Jay Rutledge—architectural historian, Minnesota Historical Society

Owen Brinkerhoff—graduate student, historic preservation

Dr. Everett Whyte—university professor, industrial history

Sister Mary Jude—advocate for the homeless people who shelter in the mill

Officer Crandall & Officer Ashton—Minneapolis Police Department

Star—runaway teen living in the mill ruin

Camo John—Vietnam veteran living in the mill ruin

Byron Cooke—curator of interpretation, Old World Wisconsin

Ralph Petty—director, Old World Wisconsin

Contemporary Timeline (1983), Eagle, Wisconsin

Libby—Roelke's cousin

Justin and Dierdre—Libby's children

Marge Bandacek—Deputy Sherrif, Waukesha County

Chief Naborski—head of Village of Eagle Police Department

Contemporary Timeline (1983), Milwaukee

Roelke McKenna—officer, Village of Eagle Police Department

Rick Almirez—officer, Milwaukee Police Department

Jody—Rick's girlfriend

Dobry Banik—officer, Milwaukee Police Department

Lucia Bliss—sergeant, Milwaukee Police Department

Chief Bliss—Lucia's father, head of Milwaukee Police Department

Sergeant Conrad Malloy—Field Training Officer, Milwaukee Police Department

Captain Heikinen—in charge of police district in Milwaukee's Old South Side

Olivette—dispatcher at the local police district

Sherman—homeless Vietnam veteran living in Old South Side

Kip—bar owner

Danielle and Joanie—Kip's employees

Fritz Klinefelter—officer and head of clerical department, Milwaukee Police Department

Erin Litkowski—domestic abuse survivor

Steve Litkowski—Erin's husband

Pauline—Erin's sister

Lobo/Alberto Marquez—felon

Patrick McKenna—Roelke's brother

Mrs. Dombrowicz and son Donny—residents, Old South Side

Helen—director of Eve's House, a shelter for survivors of domestic abuse

Historical Timeline (1878–1923), Minneapolis

Magdalena—Polish immigrant

Dariusz—Magdalena's brother, deceased

Frania (Franciszka)—Magdalena's daughter

Pawel—Polish immigrant at Magdalena's boarding house

Lidia—Frania's daughter

Tomasz/Thomas—Lidia's beau

One

Chloe Ellefson was not
having a good time.

“So,” Roelke said, sliding into his seat at the banquet table. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Chloe smiled brightly. “I am!”

Roelke raised his eyebrows.

Drat the man. With sincerity, Chloe added, “After hearing so much about your band, it's fun to actually hear you play. You guys are great.” She patted his thigh.

“You better keep Chloe around, McKenna,” Rick Almirez said to Roelke. “You'll never find another woman who actually appreciates the band.” He put his arm around the young woman sitting beside him. “After Jody sat through an entire practice session, I knew I'd found the one for me.”

Jody's smile was half indulgent, half adoring. She was a small woman, with honey-colored hair swirled stylishly behind her head. She looked maybe twenty-five, which made Chloe, who was fast approaching her thirty-third birthday, feel a wee bit ancient. But Jody and Rick were clearly good together.

Chloe had only met Rick a few times, but she liked him a lot. He and Roelke had been best friends since their police academy days. Roelke had left Milwaukee, but he kept in touch with old buddies at practice sessions. The Blue Tones was an all-cop band.

“Keeping Chloe around is the plan,” Roelke said. He looked happy, but he was also wired. Chloe could feel his knee bouncing like a piston. So, was this good-wired? Or was something making him tense? Since Chloe was completely out of her element, she had no idea. She was only here because two MPD officers had asked The Blue Tones to play alternate sets with an accordion player at their wedding reception. “Want to come with?” Roelke had asked, with an
Either way is fine with me
shrug that was, she knew, completely bogus.

The wedding ceremony had been traditional enough—glowing bride, nervous groom. With Roelke in the pew beside her, Chloe had been quite at ease. But once everyone adjourned to the private party room at a popular Milwaukee bar and he switched from guest to entertainer, she'd felt adrift. This was largely an urban crowd. Chatter was studded with casual crime talk. Cigarette smoke hazed the air. Until now, Chloe and Roelke had spent most of their couple-time either alone or with her family. The man on stage during the band's first set had seemed a stranger.

Rick gave Chloe a devilish grin. “Did Roelke ever tell you about the time he put a guy's driver's license down on the hood of a car and it blew into a storm drain?”

“It wasn't my fault that a semi blasted by,” Roelke protested. “Jody, did Rick ever tell
you
about the first time he drew his gun on duty? It flew out of his hand, did a triple flip, and landed in the street.”

Dobry and Tina Banik rejoined the group as Roelke spoke. “The PD frowns on throwing guns around,” Dobry said, holding the chair for his wife. Dobry had sandy hair and a round, freckled face that was, probably to his professional dismay, remarkably boyish.

Chloe sipped her wine, watching the men trade barbs in practiced style. This is good for Roelke, she thought. He was completely committed to the small, rural village PD he worked for now, but he also felt a bit isolated. He'd spent six years with the Milwaukee PD and had a shared history with Rick and Dobry. Now, Chloe thought, I really am enjoying myself.

“Remember the time in training when Rick got surprised during a traffic stop? Oh, man.” Roelke hooted with laughter.

“I didn't make sure the trunk was securely closed,” Rick confessed. “An instructor jumped out and scared the crap out of me.” He laughed, too. “You better believe I check now, every single time.”

“He's got quite the obsessive routine for approaching cars now,” Roelke began. “You should see how—”

“Excuse us!” Two young women presented themselves. The blonde wore a clingy red dress with plunging neckline and stiletto heels that made Chloe's feet ache in solidarity. “We need to identify a cop who
doesn't
work in Milwaukee.” She waved a piece of paper. “For the scavenger hunt.”

Roelke produced his badge. “I'm with the Eagle PD, out in Waukesha County.”

“Ooh,
thank
you!” the brunette squealed. Her clingy dress with plunging neckline was black, as were her equally torturous heels. When Roelke spelled his name she leaned over to write on the table, displaying enough cleavage to hide a broadsword. “What an unusual name! How do you say it?”

“It's pronounced Rell-kee,” Chloe said helpfully. “And I'm Clo-ee.”

The young women made a big, big point of ignoring her. “It's good to meet you, Officer Roelke McKenna,” the brunette said.

As the pair sashayed to the next table, Jody rolled her eyes. “Badge bunnies.”

“Now, now,” Rick said.

The accordion player launched into a cheerful rendition of “Beer Barrel Polka,” and Chloe raised her voice to be heard. “So, guys. When are you going to play the chicken dance? And the hokey pokey?”

All three groaned. “Never,” Roelke said. “We write that into our contract. Playing for the dollar dance is as kitschy as we get.” Although some of the old neighborhoods were changing, Milwaukee still had a strong Polish-American community, and the dollar dance was expected at Polish weddings.

“I believe the word you're looking for is
traditional
,” Chloe said suggested.

He gave her a
Yeah, right
look.

Dobry drained his beer. “Come on, boys. We're up in five.”

“Rick and Dobry have to work graveyard shift,” Roelke told Chloe. “But we can get one more set in.” He squeezed her hand and headed for the stage.

Rick kissed Jody before leaning close to Chloe. “Be patient with that guy,” he whispered with a wink. “You're good for him.”

He was gone before she could find a response. Touched, she watched the other cop saunter away. How very sweet.

Dobry's wife lit a cigarette and surveyed the crowded room. She wore a long-sleeved but slinky dress of her own, and makeup she'd evidently applied with a trowel. Chloe tried to think of something to say to Tina and came up blank.

Jody leaned close. “You doing okay? When I started dating Rick and hanging out in cop-world … ” She made a wry face. “It can be overwhelming.”

“A bit,” Chloe acknowledged. “Do the badge bunnies make regular appearances?” She generally didn't approve of denigrating any woman based on how she chose to present herself to the world, but … in this case she was okay with it.

“Evidently a lot of women fantasize about dating a cop,” Jody said. “I don't think you need to worry about it, though. Roelke adores you.”

Chloe was okay with that, too.

“So, what do you do?” Jody asked.

“I'm curator of collections at Old World Wisconsin. It's a big historic site in Waukesha County.”

“Maybe Rick and I can visit in the spring,” Jody said. “And I know the guys are planning a double-date at Mader's.” The German restaurant was a Milwaukee landmark. “Oh—and we're having a
M*A*S*H
Bash on the twenty-eighth, when the final episode airs. I hope you and Roelke can come. All the martinis and grape Nehi you can drink.”

“Sounds like fun!” Chloe smiled. Maybe she really could make friends within Roelke's circle.

“Tell Roelke he has to come as Klinger.”

The mental image of Roelke McKenna wearing vintage drag was so surreal that Chloe almost snorted wine out her nose. “Not likely,” she gasped. Jody laughed, too.

The Blue Tones blazed through a playlist largely comprised of jazz and blues. Roelke, who played electric bass, looked stoic through Foreigner's “Waiting for a Girl Like You” and a few other pop ballads grudgingly added at the bride's request. He perked up when they circled back to Bonnie Raitt.

Chloe thought the set was winding down when someone in the back of the room bellowed, “Bliss!” Other voices took up the call. “Bliss! Bliss! Bliss!”

Chloe leaned toward Jody. “Pardon me, but what the heck?” Like every other Wisconsinite blasted daily by media accounts of Lawrencia Bembenek's infamous murder trial last year, Chloe had seen photographs of a few cops partying with wild abandon. Cops needed to let off steam, she got that, but—geez Louise, there were grandparents and little kids present.

Jody cocked her head at a woman wearing black silk trousers and a silver top who was making her way to the stage. “Lucia Bliss. She's a cop.”

“That's her name? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Lucia Bliss huddled with the musicians before taking the microphone. The band swung into a Pointer Sisters song. Bliss smiled lazily and began to sing of the midnight moon.

The woman had a good voice, Chloe had to give her that. She wasn't beautiful in a traditional way—big-boned, oval face, plain features, shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She didn't prance about, but she exuded a unexpected sultry grace.

Jody leaned closer. “She's a sergeant, actually.”

“Really? There can't be many women sergeants in Milwaukee.”

“Her dad's the chief of the MPD, so she grew up in a cop family. That couldn't have hurt.”

Somebody turned on a disco ball—Chloe hadn't seen one of
those
for a while—and spots of light twirled over the room. She reached for her wine goblet, then decided she'd had enough. On the dance floor, young people clung to their partners like limpets. The bride and groom looked ready to get down on the floor and go at it, right here, right now.

Chloe glanced back at the stage. Watching the man she'd made love with that morning, she felt disoriented. Roelke's bass was slung low on his hips. He moved to the beat, a lascivious grin on his face.

Bliss crooned about wanting a man's slow hands. She glanced over her shoulder. Had she grinned at Roelke? It really looked like she did. He definitely grinned back.

The smoke-filled room crackled with repressed electricity. Chloe squirmed as some of that tension tingled through her. She couldn't tell if she was ill at ease or turned on.

“So,” Roelke said later, as they settled into his truck. “Are you glad you came?”

“Sure!” Chloe held her hands toward the heater vent with anticipation. The February night was clear and cold. A few glittering stars reminded Chloe of the disco ball.

“I couldn't tell. If you were enjoying yourself, I mean.” He backed out of the parking space.

Chloe tugged her skirt down over her knees. She wasn't used to wearing nylons, and her best dress—a lacy Laura Ashley number that must have amused the young women in their tight minis—was not designed for a Wisconsin winter.

“Well?”

“I loved hearing the band,” Chloe said again. “And watching you play. And it was good to meet more of your friends.”

“But?”

Chloe frowned. “What's up with you?”

“You just didn't look like you were having a good time.”

It wasn't like Roelke to be argumentative. She shifted on the seat, trying to figure out this unexpected mood. “Well … I felt a little out of my element. It's a very different crowd than I'm used to.” Many of the guests at the last wedding she'd attended had worn historic attire. The musicians played waltzes and reels. The guests had received handmade boutonnieres and information about the Victorian era's “language of flowers.” Quite a stretch from the chocolate handcuffs guests had received tonight, prettily gilded with the date stamped on the side:
February 4, 1983
.

“I've tried really hard to get to know your family and friends,” Roelke reminded her.

“I know you have.” He'd gone above and beyond on that one, actually, especially in the family arena. “And as I
said
, I enjoyed meeting your friends. I already liked Rick, and Jody's really nice.”

Roelke turned onto the I-94 ramp. “They make a good pair.”

“So … the woman who came up on stage and sang is a sergeant?”

“Bliss? Yeah. She was a year ahead of us at the academy, but we all worked the same district. She's sung with us a couple of times before.”

“I could tell.”

“What's
that
supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Chloe folded her arms, hoping that was true. The thought of becoming a jealous lady friend was repugnant.

Roelke didn't respond. Chloe lapsed into silence as well, watching lights go by, bummed that the evening was ending on a down note. Roelke had
loved
playing tonight, but something was bugging him. She knew that some of his buds still chided him for leaving Milwaukee. Maybe Roelke was entertaining regrets.

She also knew that he'd been reproaching himself for two months about a complicated murder case. Roelke was not a detective, but he'd become involved in the investigation—and failed, in his opinion, to identify the killer. Sometimes Chloe thought he'd put it behind him … and then she'd spot him staring into the distance, jaw muscles tight, and knew he had not.

The drive to Palmyra took over an hour. Roelke pulled into the parking lot behind his walk-up apartment in the village. “I'm going back to my place,” Chloe said.

“I thought you were staying over.”

“I was,” she said, “but this doesn't seem to be a good night for that. Besides, I'm driving to the Twin Cities in the morning, remember? I want to get an early start.”

“Chloe, I … ” He stared out the windshield. “Never mind. Thanks for coming. Drive safe tomorrow.”

“I will. And I'll call you from my friend's place.” She leaned over, gave him a quick kiss, and got out of the truck.

I can be a real jerk, Roelke thought an hour later, lying lonely in his bed. Honestly, he didn't blame Chloe for leaving. The last thing Rick had said to him that night was, “We've both found good women. I'm hanging on to Jody. You better hang on to Chloe too, dumbass.”

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