Authors: Victoria Houston
“Yeah,” said Zenner, nodding enthusiastically. “My dad said he’ll be there by five, too.” By this point, Nick was nearly soaked through. Osborne waved the boys off with a smile.
Yep, he had to give the boy a break. After all, Osborne himself had spent a good many years thinking Ray Pradt was a numskull. You couldn’t blame the kid for being a little leery of a guy with a fish on his head.
By the time Osborne reached the jail, he was humming. The nice thing about a gray day was seeing all the lights on inside homes and businesses. Even the new detention center looked warm and cozy from outside.
Lew gave him a bright smile and a wave when he finally located her in the large conference room down the hall from the probation offices. His heart lifted. She was sitting alongside Gina, whose eyes were riveted on her computer screen.
Gina gave a quick glance as he walked in. “Morning, Doc,” she said. Her voice boomed at him, clipped but cheery. Tapping at her keyboard with a flourish, she grabbed her coffee cup and stood up to get a refill from the pot sitting on a hot plate against the far wall. Lew moved over to study the screen.
“You must have been at Ralph’s when he opened this morning,” said Osborne to Gina as they filled their coffee cups.
“How did you know?” She looked puzzled.
“That shirt.”
“Oh.” Gina looked down. She was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt with burgundy letters running across her chest that read,
Loon Lake: Excitement, Romance, and Live Bait.
The sweatshirt, paired with close-fitting Levi’s, made her look neat, trim, and tiny.
“Say,” she said as she sat back down, warming her hands on her coffee cup, “I hear there’s a prime piece of lakefront for sale down the road from you and Ray.”
‘The old Gilligan place,” said Osborne. “That’s a nice lot. Good shoreline, but the old cabin isn’t worth much, Gina. Folks up here want something you can winterize. That’s a teardown.”
“It’s got running water,” grinned Gina. “And every excuse never to clean it.”
“You can’t be serious.” Osborne pulled out a chair to sit down behind the two women. “Would you really buy a place up here? Gina, you’ve only been here twenty-four hours.”
“I like Loon Lake.” Gina swung around, coffee cup in hand, and crossed one foot over the opposite knee. “Had the best cheeseburger in the world at the Pub last night. I ended up at the bar, where I had a long talk with a very nice young real estate broker.” Her eyes were sparkling, and Osborne could see she had had a very nice evening. “Even if I didn’t get up here that often, lakefront property is a good investment, isn’t it?”
“As good as the stock market,” said Osborne. The Gilligan lot was to the immediate north of Ray’s place. He wondered how much that might factor into Gina’s interest.
“And the people here are so nice,” she said. “Yesterday afternoon I stopped by Ralph’s Sporting Goods. Everyone was so pleasant, even though I don’t know beans about fishing. Then I went to dinner by myself and made all these new friends. Trust me, you cannot do this in Kansas City, much less New York or Chicago.”
Osborne nodded thoughtfully. “You know …” He paused, looking down at his own coffee cup. “That’s why I think we’re going down a blind alley looking for your Michael Winston in
this
neck of the woods. Everyone in and around Loon Lake knows everyone. Someone as self-important as I assume he is, from everything you’ve told us about him, a man like that would stand out in this town.”
“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear,” said Gina, waving her left hand impatiently. “That’s exactly what he does so well. He doesn’t stand out in the usual sense. He makes everyone he wants to impress feel like
they
stand out; he makes
you
feel special. The man excels at seducing the unsuspecting. That is his talent.”
Osborne chewed on that. He looked at Lew. He wanted to tell her she looked drop-dead beautiful, but instead he said, “Anyone come to mind?”
“Ray Pradt,” she said without hesitation. They all laughed.
“Frankly, no,” she said. “Not a soul. But I do think Gina has a point with the gun trail. I am more than willing to give this a try. If nothing else, I’ll have a handle on our local arsenals.”
“Fighting words.” Gina swung back around to her computer. “I have the ATF data all lined up and ready to go,” she said. “It isn’t as bad as I expected, either. The local records work fine on my software. If I can get those boys in here tomorrow or the next day to help me install it on Chief Ferris’s system, I think we can debug enough to run the data before the weekend. I may get a good chunk of the data entry done today, even,” she said.
“Chief Ferris!” Hank Kendrickson stood in the doorway. Osborne jumped in surprise, splashing his coffee, as the man’s voice rang across the room. “Can I see you a minute?”
Osborne looked over at the stocky figure in the doorway. Fluorescent lighting was not kind to Hank. His cheekbones were blotched over the full beard, and his yellow gray hair looked like dirty straw. The red flannel shirt, chinos, and suspenders he was wearing also conspired to emphasize his shortness, which Osborne noted with satisfaction.
Lew stood up to walk toward him, then she stopped and turned back toward the table. “Hank—” She waved at Gina to come forward—“I’d like you to meet Gina Palmer from Kansas City. Gina is in town on a sad mission. She’s a family friend of one of the murder victims, but she’s also giving me a hand with our new computer system. She’s quite the expert.”
Gina stood up and walked over, extending her hand as Lew continued, “Gina, this is Hank Kendrickson. He runs the Wildwood Game Preserve, where the young Frahm boy is working. Hank, I should get Gina out to your place for a tour before she leaves town … show her your elk herd.”
“How nice to meet you, Hank,” said Gina, pumping his hand. “Chief Ferris said your game preserve is in the process of becoming one of the first E-commerce sites in the county. I sure hope you won’t mind if I pull your site expert, Zenner, in to help us out for a day or so.”
Hank opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he shook his head slightly, turned away, and coughed. He pounded at his chest with the opposite hand, then gave a weak look and in a tight, constrained voice said, “Excuse me, I got a frog in my throat. A lovely woman does it every time.”
“Thank you,” laughed Gina, “but that is hardly the effect I want to have. Can we get you a drink of water?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine.” He waved away the offer, but his voice remained high and tight. “You use Zenner as long as you need to, Chief.” He coughed again. ”
Anything
I can do to help. But I am in a bit of a hurry this morning. If we could …” He backed toward the doorway. “Chief … ah … do you have a minute?” Hank flushed a little, tripping over his words as he thumped his chest once more. It was obvious he wanted to speak to Lew in private, and he was trying to clear his throat in way that would not appall the group. Osborne did not feel sorry for him.
“Golly,” said Gina, tipping her head as she stepped back to look at him, “did I meet you at the Pub last night? I feel like we’ve met before.”
“Umm … not last night,” said Hank. Now he had his handkerchief out and was wiping at his eyes and nose. The man’s mounting discomfort and awkwardness paralleled Osborne’s feeling of smugness.
“I had a Trout Unlimited meeting at Ralph’s last night—to plan our sponsorship banquet. Lewellyn, we missed you.” Again he coughed and hacked. Meanwhile, the familiar way in which he used Lew’s name did not pass unnoticed by Osborne.
“That’s it. I was there, too. At Ralph’s, I mean,” said Gina, going back to her chair. She beamed at everyone in the room. “Now that’s what I love about a small town. Doesn’t take long to get to know people. I mean, gee, this is so fun.”
“So what is it exactly you folks are doing that you need Zenner’s help?” Hank asked Lew.
Before Lew could answer, Gina piped up, “Oh, just a little R&D with databases. Research and development,” she added at the puzzled look on Lew’s face. Gina waved her hand dismissively toward her computer screen. “Nothing too fancy, but Zenner sounds like he has the skills to help me install some customized software so it will accommodate Chief Ferris’s needs. Shouldn’t take long. Feel free to sit in.”
“Say, Hank,” interrupted Lew, “you’ve met a lot of people since you’ve been up here. Ever run into a Michael Winston?”
Hank dropped his head in thought. “No … I know
Jim
Winston, runs the Cove Restaurant. Could that be one of his sons?”
“No, this would be an older man. Dark hair, medium height.”
“Sorry,” said Hank, “but I can check our T.U. membership list if you want.”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” said Gina. “You know, Mr. Kendrickson, I would
love
to see your game preserve. Can the public just drive in? Are you open if I stay in town over the weekend?”
Oh no
, groaned Osborne inwardly.
Not her, too.
“Well, why don’t you and Chief Ferris plan to come out and let me give you a private tour,” said Hank, obsequious in his geniality. “Let me check our schedule, and I’ll give you ladies a call later today. Is there somewhere you can be reached, Gina?”
“I’m staying at the Stone Lake Motel.”
“Good. Maybe Sunday. Nice meeting you,” said Hank with a wave to Gina. Then he reached for Lew’s elbow and propelled her into the hallway. A proprietary gesture if ever Osborne had seen one. He was so irritated, he barely listened as Gina rattled on.
“I’m not sure he’s real happy about my using Zenner, Doc,” she said. “Now how do I know him. I don’t think I saw him at the sports shop and I know it wasn’t at the Pub … hmm … I hate it when I do that. It can be so embarrassing. You’d think in my work, I’d be perfect at remembering names and faces.
“Hmm … this really bothers me, Doc. Gee, something about him is so familiar. Shoot! And I know it wasn’t at Ralph’s….”
She paused, suspending her fingers above her keyboard, then she braced her chin in her hand, leaning her elbow on the table. She studied the air in front of her as she tried to remember. “Maybe he was on my flight…. Do you ever do that, Doc? Happens to me all the time in Kansas City. I’ll see a familiar face, and I can’t place it. Then I feel bad because I think it’s someone I should know. Of course, half the time it’s someone I saw in my shrink’s waiting room, a face I’m not supposed to remember.
“My most embarrassing moment is running into one of my married friends out with another woman,” said Osborne, trying to be polite and still overhear what was being said in the hall.
“Oh, come on. That doesn’t happen here in Loon Lake—”
“Actually, it’s happened twice. And with people you would never expect.”
Before Gina could respond, Lew walked back into the room, pausing in the doorway to look back down the hall.
“That man can be such a pain,” she said through gritted teeth. “Sorry, I thought I’d never get rid of him.” She rolled her eyes.
“Uh-oh. And there I go inviting us out to his place. I’m sorry, I had no idea,” said Gina. “If he calls, I’ll go by myself. But,” she scrunched her face and her shoulders as if wincing in pain, “he probably won’t call me. It’s pretty clear who he wants to see.” She winked at Lew.
“He’s a nice man but a bother,” said Lew. “Now he’s roped me into fly-fishing tomorrow night with some friends of his from Minneapolis. Business partners, I guess. I don’t mind when I’m not busy, but the timing is bad right now.” She leveled a look at Gina. “For the record, it’s not a date, it’s a civic thing.”
“You mean civil,” said Osborne.
“No, I mean civic, Doc. As the head of law enforcement here, I have to humor certain individuals, I have to attend certain social events. Comes with the job.”
“So whenever he asks you, you have to go?” asked Gina, teasing.
“No. But today he backed me into a corner. He had already talked to Lucy and had her check my calendar.”
“What an asshole,” said Gina. “That is totally out of line.”
“That’s what I mean; he’s a bother. But enough of this,” said Lew, slapping a file folder down on the desk. “Here’s the last set of ATF files.”
“Chief!” a woman’s voice called from the door just as Osborne took his last swallow of coffee. It was Lucy, the switchboard operator. “Ray Pradt is on the line. Has to talk to you right way.”
“Oh, good. Can you put him through to the phone in here?” said Lew.
The look of frustration on Lew’s face changed to anticipation as she listened to Ray. “Yep, yep, okay. And Ray? Thank you very much.” She hung up. “Doc, do you have time to run out to Timber Lake Lodge with me? Ray found something. He left it in the lodge office for us.”
“What is it?” said Gina. “Can you tell me?”
“Ashley’s fanny pack with her cell phone and a small journal still in it,” said Lew.
“Forget ATF,” said Gina, “I’m coming with you. If that’s all right?”
The fanny pack lay on Helen’s desk. Osborne had three pairs of surgical gloves from his emergency dental kit, which he had learned to carry in the station wagon ever since working for Lew the first time. He handed a pair each to Lew and Gina.
Helen sat at the desk, a piece of paper in front of her. She looked at Lew. “Ray had to be somewhere, so he asked me to pass along some information. He said he’ll call you later. He seemed to be in a real rush.”
Lew nodded, so Helen continued. “He told me to tell you it looked like the pack had caught on a branch while the body was being carried along a deer trail out there. Here’s a map he drew for you.” She handed Lew the paper. “He marked the branch, too, so you can go in and study the site yourself. He said whoever dumped Ashley’s body must not have seen it catch and rip off.”
“So much for Roger’s ability to survey a crime site,” said Lew dryly.
“He told me to be sure to tell you not to be critical of your deputy. When he didn’t find any tire marks off the circle back in there, he drove down to Gaber’s Landing and put his boat in. He came in through the swamp to a ramp that crosscountry skiers use. You know the one that runs along the south bank of the river? That’s where he saw bloodstains leading to the deer trail. He said he had plenty of sign along the deer trail until it crossed an old logging road, where it became more difficult to read. But Ray said he found enough sign for you to be sure that’s where the killer came in.”