Dead Renegade (16 page)

“Of course.”

“One more thing, Doc,” said Lew, leaning back against the police cruiser and looking up at Osborne with a smile and a pleading look in her eyes, “do you mind helping me out for a short time this evening? I’ve located five boxes holding files from the year Abe disappeared and I was hoping we could split up the boxes and see if we can’t at least pull the right files. I’m off tomorrow and I hate leaving this undone—but you have had a long day.”

“I’ve
had a long day? Look who was in her office by six this morning. Of course I’ll help you out. I’ll miss dinner with Mike, but he’ll survive. I’ll ask Ray to check on him.

“Lew, I’m worried about CJ. A double skull fracture is very, very serious.” He shook his head rather than say the worst.

“You like that girl, don’t you?”

“She is a sweet kid,” said Osborne. “Just a nice, good-hearted young woman. Speaking of good-hearted women, Lewellyn, are we ever going to have some time alone? How ‘bout we call it quits at ten and you spend the night at my place?”

She laughed. “Nice try, Doc. Thanks, but not tonight.” She chuckled at the crestfallen look on his face. “Tomorrow night works. How’s that? I’m taking the day off, working in my garden, and if you’d like, we could take the canoe and our fly rods out on the lake tomorrow evening—catch some bluegills and enjoy a late dinner?”

“O-o-o-kay,” said Osborne, wheedling. “What if we find the files right away? Would that change things?”

She punched him in the arm. “See you at the station, Doc.”

CHAPTER
22

“W
e need a better system,” said Lew, complaining as she sorted through one of the boxes that they had hoisted onto a long table at one end of the storeroom. “They’ve stuck everything in here from traffic citations to runaway dogs, for gods sake. The list on the front is worthless—tells you what months are in here and nothing else. Sorry, Doc, this is going to take longer than I thought.”

“My box has a good list,” said Osborne, glancing over at her. “Alphabetical. You must have had different people organizing these?”

“The mayor made us hire one of his nieces. I think she got her training from Pecore: how to do nothing while getting paid.”

Osborne pushed the box in front of him to one side. “Nothing Conjurski-related in June. I’ll check July.” He leaned over the next box. “Decent list here,” he said and thumbed along for about five minutes. He felt happy working under the fluorescent lights with the sound of Lew’s soft breathing nearby. “Got one and it’s thick.”

He handed the file with a small stack of papers inside it to Lew. “Oh, no this isn’t about Abe disappearing,” she said. “This is a break-in at his restaurant.”

According to the reports in the file, the break-in at the Bobcat Inn was one of seven that occurred around Loon Lake duringjune and July of that month—and always with the thief or thieves cutting rooftop holes to gain entry. Small businesses were targeted: Moen’s Beauty Shop, Birch Bark and More, Taege’s Drug Store, Mclssac’s Books, Leo’s Sporting Goods, Little Rock Tavern and the Bobcat Inn.

Items taken were cash, cigarettes, three tackle boxes, fishing lures, cases of beer, a medical bag with a stethoscope and—from the drug store—condoms. The burglary tools were basic: a handsaw and an ax. The burglar or burglars were never apprehended, but the Bobcat Inn was the last of the break-ins that summer.

Lew looked up from the file, “Doc, you know what’s curious here? That break-in that Roger handled earlier today at the Dog House Tavern? Whoever it was used a handsaw and ax to enter. They took cash, cigarettes, an iPod and a laptop computer.”

Doc moved his chair close to Lew so he could read over her shoulder as she shuffled through the pages of the police report from the Bobcat. “Look, Abe is still around at this point,” said Osborne. “They have his account of finding the cash register smashed. Oh … look at that—whoever it was broke all the glasses he played his tunes on. What a sonofabitch. To me, that makes it sound like it was somebody who knew Abe. Sheer meanness.”

“Get this, Doc,” said Lew, pointing to the typed report describing the location and other employees interviewed after the break-in. “Bobby Schradtke was working for Abe at the time of the break-in. I sat in on his probation hearing the other day. That guy is a habitual offender. He’s done time for stealing cars, burglaries, possession of burglary tools, aggravated assaults—and that’s before this last sentence for distributing crack cocaine.

“Going back to his teen years, he was one mean son of a gun. Before he quit school, he beat up a shop teacher—broke his nose and three ribs.”

“I remember reading all the news stories during Schradtke’s trial,” said Osborne, “but I never knew he worked at the Bobcat Inn. Does that report say what he did there?”

“Dishwasher. He had been arrested for several burglaries and after serving six months, qualified for work release—that’s how Abe had hired him. Interesting, huh. Oh … get this—after the break-in at the Bobcat, they searched the trailer where Bobby was living and found axes, a handsaw and a chainsaw, which he claimed he used for logging. Didn’t look good, but hardly proof that he was the burglar.

“Okay, let’s keep searching for that missing persons report on Abe. Has to be in one of these next two boxes.”

Twenty minutes later, they gave up. “I don’t understand,” said Lew, throwing her hands in the air. “There should be something here.”

Osborne checked his watch. It was nine fifteen. “Let me make a quick call to Jack Jarvis, Lew. I noticed on my dental charts that he was Abe’s physician and he’s a good friend of mine. I don’t think it’s too late to give him call. Let me see if he remembers the situation then. Is it okay to mention that we’ve identified Abe’s remains?”

Lew nodded an approval.

“Jack?” said Osborne a moment later. “Sorry to call so late. Chief Ferris and I have a question for you. The Wausau Crime Lab helped us identify some skeletal remains that were found recently—Abe Conjurski. As I recall, you were his physican, weren’t you?”

“I was. This is interesting, Doc, I’ve always wondered what happened to old Abe. He dropped off the face of the earth one day and that was that. Where’d you find the bones—in the woods somewhere?”

“Not exactly,” said Osborne. “At this point, let me just say we think it might be foul play. Tell you more when it’s official.”

“Really sorry to hear that. But, you know, Abe was not a well man after his wife died. He put himself in harm’s way. You recall that, don’t you?”

“I remember well. What we’re trying to figure out is exactly when he disappeared and why there is no missing persons report in the police files—at least none we can find so far.”

“You know, Paul,” said Jack after a thoughtful pause. “I doubt there ever was one. I remember speaking to Abe’s second cousin around that time. We figured he was likely on the skids somewhere—Madison or Milwaukee maybe. The drinking had reached a point, he was killing himself The one family member I dealt with really didn’t know the man and wanted nothing to do with a drunk. Also, I think that Abe had run up enough debt that they wanted to keep their distance from any fall-out that could cost them.”

“Do you remember a break-in at the Bobcat Inn?”

“Now that you mention it, I do. Tell you why I remember—Abe called me that day to say he’d be late paying on the medical bills from his wife’s death. He had all his receipts from Friday night fish fry in the cash register that night. He never did pay me.”

“So maybe that’s about the time he disappeared?”

“Could be. Sure enough, the more I think about it. I never had another meal out there either. I would bet you anything that you’ll find a tax record a few years later that assumes he passed away. Not missing. Just presumed deceased. That doesn’t help much. He must have had lawyer who might know. Maybe check with the town clerk and see if you can locate the estate notice after his wife’s death? He would have needed a lawyer for that.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

Off the phone, Osborne shared Jack’s comments with Lew. “Well, let’s call it a night, Doc,” she said, heaving a sigh. “I’ll give you a call after I finish my gardening tomorrow.”

His phone rang at six a.m. the next morning. It was Lew. Osborne leaned up on his pillow. “You’re up early. Got the garden all set?”

“I wish. Sorry if I woke you, but I just had a call from Roger. He worked the night shift and he’s reporting on two more break-ins that occurred during the night—both times the thieves cut through the roofs with an ax and a handsaw. They hit Bob’s Firestone and Family Video.

“A woman walking her dog saw two men leave the back door of Family Video and get into an old convertible they had parked across the street in the Loon Lake Market parking lot. This was three a.m. Not a lot of cars in the parking lot. She called it in about five minutes later, which was too late—but you know what I’m thinking? Somebody’s back in town and we should have a little talk.”

“Bobby Schradtke owns an old Ford Sunliner—sort of an orange-red color.”

“That fits. The woman thought it was reddish-brown, but it was too dark for her to be sure. Just strikes me that those break-ins years ago stopped right around the time he was sent up the river. And a little too coincidental that he happened to be working for one of the places that got robbed. Given his arrest record, I’m dropping in on Mr. Schradtke this morning.”

“No gardening?”

“Later. This Schradtke connection is bugging me.”

“Lew, you need a day off. Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“One hour in town isn’t much. I need to determine if I’ve got probable cause for getting a search warrant.”

“Just one thing, Lew—under no circumstances do you cancel our evening.”

“I hear you. I promise.”

Osborne shook his head as he hung up. He’d believe it when he saw her.

CHAPTER
23

Y
ou don’t look happy,” said Osborne as he opened the driver’s side door to help Lew climb out of her truck. “But you do look great. Love the outfit.”

“Thought you’d like it,” she said with a rueful grin. She was wearing the new khaki fishing shorts and fly fishing shirt he had given her for her birthday. He liked the shirt in particular. Tucked in so it enhanced the curve of her breasts, the shirt had a way of reminding him of pleasant evenings, past and future.