Dead Deceiver (25 page)
Before he left to return to the Wausau Crime Lab, Bruce Peters was able to report what appeared to be a match between the blood samples on the aspen, two nearby trees and Kathy Beltner’s blood type. Days later, a more accurate analysis would prove that the blood was indeed hers.
C
HAPTER
32
“B
ut I didn’t!” exclaimed Dani, a hurt expression on her face—or at least as much of her face as showed under the bandage she was wearing. She was already in a bit of a pout since half her bountiful head of hair had been shaved, requiring the rest to be chopped back in order to give a little balance to her looks.
It was Saturday morning, the day after the funeral Mass for Kathy Beltner and Beth and Dani were meeting with Lew in her office. “I didn’t go looking for who was online,” said Beth, repeating the denial. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Then what
were
you doing?” asked Lew.
“I was looking for Dickie to tell him I couldn’t ride with him ‘cause my boyfriend, Zach, would get mad—”
“Dickie being this man but with a beard, right?” asked Lew, holding up one of Dick Mason’s mug shots.
“Yes, but I didn’t know that’s who he was. He told me he was one of the janitors. But when I went to find him in the cafeteria, there he was on one of the computers the college keeps in the box office, he turned around and had a gun in his hand. That’s when I slammed the door behind me and to tried to run through the cafeteria but … I don’t remember the rest. Just waking up in the hospital.”
Dani’s shoulders shook and Beth, who was sitting beside her, reached over to pat her on the back. “It’s okay, Dani,” said Beth. “Chief Ferris and I—we’ve needed to hear from you exactly what happened. This makes sense to me. Does it to you, Chief Ferris?” asked Beth, looking over at Lew.
“Yes,” said Lew, “it makes a difference knowing you didn’t deliberately do what we had specifically instructed you not to do. A big difference. Did Beth tell you that Dick Mason is the same man who shot her friend, Kathy Beltner? I can’t tell you how lucky you are—we are—that you’re alive.”
Dani wiped a tear from one eye and sniffled. “I know. My mom is still so upset.”
“Okay, then,” said Lew, pushing her chair away from her desk and speaking in a lighter, brisker tone, “where do we go from here, ladies? Beth, why don’t you share with Dani the plan you and I have been discussing.”
“Sure. Dani, Chief Ferris and I have met with Dr. Schumacher and we got the go-ahead to start an internship program for selected computer science students to spend time at the police department assisting with public record searches and other database projects.”
“Really?” said Dani. “What about that consultant, Julie Davis, who showed us how once someone gains access to a directory of user names and passwords, they can take over an entire network? It was so amazing to learn how to trace the hackers. I’m really into that stuff now. Professor Hellenbrand,” Dani turned to Beth, “is there any chance the college might bring our consultant here? I would love to meet her.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion,” said Beth. Her eyes met Lew’s and held.
“Dani,” said Lew, “we have an offer to make.” Dani’s eyes widened. “If you will switch your major from cosmetology to computer science, Professor Hellenbrand, Dr. Schumacher and myself will vote to award you the first internship, six months of paid time in addition to academic credits, here at the Loon Lake Police Department. What do you say?”
“Sure,” said Dani with a huge grin. “Yes, yes and yes. I would love to do that. Anyway,” she dropped her eyes coyly, “you can’t win customers as a hair stylist when you have a cut as bad as mine.”
“Awww,” said Beth, “it’ll grow out.”
“Maybe, but I kinda like it short,” said Beth, tipping her head sideways and giving a shrug. Her eyes turned solumn. “I am sorry that I got so involved with that man. I-I should have known better … you know? I thought … I was so stupid … I thought he had a crush on me.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I have a lot to learn about guys, I guess.”
“Oh, Dani,” said Lew, “welcome to the club. We all do.”
C
HAPTER
33
“D
o I
have
to sit next to a man wearing a sweatshirt that says “Addicted to Quack?” asked Suzanne with a laugh as she, Ray, Lew and Osborne sat down to fish fry that Saturday night. A phone call from her mother with the news of Ray’s success had prompted Suzanne to take one more day off work, leave the kids with their dad and drive north for the weekend.
“If a photo of me sitting here next to this razzbonya shows up on Facebook, jeepers. I’ll never get accepted at the Cranbrook Academy of Art.”
“But I’m a world famous ice fisherman,” said Ray, “after THE TODAY SHOW aired yesterday, I got two calls from guys in Chicago who want to hire me to take them ice fishing. This is just … the beginning, folks. And … and … I am also a builder of unique ice shanties. Just think, Suzanne,” he said, “if you do get into Cranbrook, you can be my ice shanty designer. How ‘bout that!”
“Let me get into grad school first, than I’ll consider the offer, Ray.” Suzanne laughed. “I am not sure how ‘Designer of Ice Shanties’ will play on my application when they ask me how I plan to use the MFA degree. But I am pleased that you—we—won. That’s the best news I’ve had all week.”
“And I have more good news,” said Ray.
“You told us already. You’re building ice shanties,” said Osborne.
“Yeah, well that’s seasonal. I have a better idea.”
“That’s always dangerous,” said Lew with friendly grin.
“You know old Walter,” said Ray, glancing around the table with a smug look on his face.
“Y-e-e-s-s-s,” said Osborne, worried about what they might hear next. The niece he had reached had been quite cursory in her attention to funeral preparations for the old guy, basically agreeing to pay for a cremation, period.
“We’ll figure out what to do next,” she had said. “Just mail the ashes to me.”
“Well,” said Ray, “I called his niece after Doc talked to her and she agreed to let me take care of Walter, which I will do … for free.”
“And?” asked Lew.
“It will be a wildcat scattering over the land where Walter lived as a hermit all those years.”
“Does the niece know that’s your plan?”
“Nope. But no one’s living on that property so what does it matter?”
“Why call it a ‘wildcat scattering?’” asked Suzanne. “I’ve never heard that term.”
“That’s the funeral industry term for scattering ashes without permission.”
“Ray, this not a good idea,” said Lew.
“Chief Ferris, with all due respect, it is not against the law and I am talking about land where no one is living. Think what it will mean to Walter.”
Everyone stared at Ray. “Okay, but what does this have to do with your new business idea?” asked Osborne skeptically.
“It’s a start to a special service I plan to offer the bereaved. I’m calling it
Love, Honor, Cherish and Scatter
—and I will charge five hundred dollars to scatter your loved ones’ remains. With permission,” he added at the expression on Lew’s face. “Only in locations where I have permission. Scattering ashes is big in the cities these days but no one is doing it up here … yet. I see a real future in it.”
After leveling a baleful eye on Ray, Lew shrugged and said, “You try my soul, sir. You try my soul. Now let’s order. I’m famished.”
Later that evening as Osborne sat in his favorite chair near the fireplace, feet up and his copy of TROUT MADNESS on his lap, he watched Lew working at the kitchen table. She was determined to read through Bruce Peters’ reports from the Wausau Crime Lab before going to bed.
“Leave no paperwork undone?” kidded Osborne.
“Almost finished,” said Lew without raising her head.
Her dark curls shone under the warm kitchen lights and he could imagine the fragrance of her skin even as he watched from a distance. She had a gift for stillness and he reflected on how, whether studying in silence or casting in a moonlit trout stream, she filled his life with a quiet eloquence.
Soon they would fall asleep, her breath warm on his back. Thank goodness.
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