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Authors: Victoria Houston

Dead Water (26 page)

BOOK: Dead Water
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“Where are you?” He leaned on one elbow.

“I’m at the jail. I’ve been here since midnight,” she said. “Ray’s cleared. I’m driving him out to your place in a few minutes. I’ve got your gun, too. Doc, I am so sorry. This would never have happened if I had been here—”

“Where were you? I tried you at home and I tried the switchboard until, jeez, eleven-thirty. Where did you go after we left Ralph’s?”

“Back to Sandy Herre’s to check everything over once more before letting the family in. By the way, Ralph called right after I got back from the store. He knew nothing more than Stein—never saw the box either. But he’s checking with the guys from T.U. for me. He thinks one of them might have handled it because they were helping out in the fly-fishing department.

“I didn’t get out of Sandy’s place until after six. Then Gina and I drove up to the Bear Claw in Land O’Lakes. On the way back, we stopped for a nightcap at the Old Stag. I had no idea no one knew how to reach me. I was sure I told Lucy where we were going and gave her Gina’s cell phone number since we had Gina’s rental car. I didn’t call in until eleven. That’s when I got the news about Ray.”

“Thank God you’re all right, Lew. I’ve been so worried. So what’s the deal? How did you clear Ray?”

“We had a suicide over in Manitowish. The ex-husband of Ray’s client, that woman. Her ex followed her up here, stalked her and the new boyfriend from the airport to the resort, and followed them to the shooting range. He hid in the woods until Ray left.”

“How do you know all this?”

“He left a note.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I should be fired.”

“No, Lew. For heaven’s sake, you have to be able to take time off. Lucy is the problem. She should have told Jennifer where you could be reached, at least given her the phone number.”

“Yeah, well, Lucy should know better, but how often do we have this kind of thing happening? Roger is the one I need to have a come-to-Jesus with. That man, I tell ya, Doc, I gotta move his retirement up. This was absurd tonight.” She dropped her voice. “Ray could file a lawsuit, y’know.”

“You know he wouldn’t do that, Lew. Is he doing okay?”

“Oh, sure, he had all our guests in stitches,” said Lew, a chuckle softening her voice. “They can’t wait for him to come back.”

Osborne hung up, relieved. Ray was cleared, and his gun was on its way home. And he liked the way Lew was beginning to confide in him. All was not lost after all. Smiling ruefully, he cracked open the door to the bedroom where Nick was sleeping and peered in.

The boy was sprawled diagonally across the bed, which was a standard double and way too short for him. The evening had stayed warm even with the windows wide open, and Nick had thrown off the light quilt that Osborne had given him. He was sleeping in his jockey underwear.

Osborne tiptoed into the room and bent to wake him gently. But as he leaned over Nick, a mark on the boy’s shoulder caught his eye. Osborne stared, pulling his hand back in horror. He looked at the other shoulder.

Moonlight spilling in the window etched the outline of human teeth. The bite marks on Nick’s shoulders were identical to the ones Osborne had seen on the two dead women. Not similar, identical. It is impossible to duplicate the five surfaces of a tooth. Even without a microscope he could see enough of the elongated upper right incisor to know it would be a perfect match.

He hauled the boy into the kitchen and slammed him down into a chair, turning the rheostat for the light fixture so high that Nick ducked to cover his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Osborne shouted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy stammered. “What’s wrong?”

“What the hell is
this?”
Osborne pointed to Nick’s left shoulder.

The boy turned and looked down at himself drowsily.

“Oh, that, that’s nothing.”

Osborne couldn’t say a word for a brief moment. Anger pounded in his ears. He hadn’t been so angry since Mary Lee threw his prized forty-nine-inch mounted muskie in the trash while he was away at a dental convention. He took a deep breath.

“Nick, two women have been murdered this week in Loon Lake. We’ve kept it a secret that both victims had strange tattoos resembling bite marks on their bodies, in the exact same place and identical to the bite marks on your shoulders. Now you tell me—”

“It’s a Zenner thing,” said Nick, the sleep gone and a look of fear in his eyes. “It’s nothing, Dr. Osborne, just, y’know, vampire stuff.”

“No, I don’t know,” said Osborne. “You tell me. What the hell does ‘vampire stuff’ mean? Zenner goes around killing women?”

“Oh, God, no,” cried Nick. “These tattoos? He makes them from casts he gets out of his dad’s office. He makes them for his friends.”

“I still don’t understand.” Osborne pulled a chair out and sat down.

“Up at the high school,” said Nick, taking a deep breath, “just like my school out East, you have all these different groups. Like some kids are jocks, some are preppies and some … well, kids like me, we’re into Goth, see. Some are still into vampires. That’s old, though. Vampires were big last year at my school. But they’re still kind of big around here, I guess. Zenner used to be in that group, and he made up these tattoos for them.

“Anyway …” Nick was calming now that Osborne seemed a little more under control. “When I was out at Wildwood this morning with Zenner, we were fooling around while we waited for Mr. Kendrickson. That’s how I got these. You can’t hurt anyone with ink, Doctor Osborne. Zenner just presses the cast onto an ink pad and then on you. Real easy.”

“I see.” Osborne considered all the ramifications of what Nick said. “I don’t think you should see more of Zenner.”

“Oh, come on, he’s a good guy.”

“I’m not so sure about that. In fact, I’m not sure that kid isn’t one sick cookie.”

A darkness crept into Nick’s eyes. “So what’s wrong with being a vampire? Beats digging graves for a living.”

“If that’s a slam at Ray, you’re way out of line, kid.”

“If I … if I….” Nick jumped to his feet, his eyes fierce. Then something caught and he folded in on himself; crossing his arms he grabbed at his shoulders, shuddering. It took a minute for Osborne to realize the boy was sobbing.

“Oh my God, come on, Nick.” Osborne felt helpless. “We’ll figure it out.”

But the boy lost control, his breath wracking deep in his chest. He sank onto the chair and doubled over. Osborne put a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Hey, son, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so hard.”

“I—I just want … I have to have something real in my life,” Nick sobbed. “I don’t have anything.” He looked up at Osborne, tears pouring down his face. “I thought—the woman I thought was my mother—turns out she isn’t. She’s like all screwed up from the divorce and stuff. I guess Elise is really my mom, but I know she doesn’t really want me. Now Ray, he’s up for murder. All I want is something real in my life—”

“Nick,” said Osborne, his voice firm and urgent, “I woke you up to tell you Ray’s okay. He’s cleared of the charges. They caught the killer.”

The boy looked up at Osborne just as the back door opened and Ray walked in. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a look of amazement on his face at the sight of Osborne and Nick, both in their underwear, both obviously distressed.

Soundlessly, Ray held the Browning out toward Osborne.

Osborne stood up to reach for the gun. “We were just talking,” he said as he walked, gun in hand, to stand behind Nick, who was wiping his face with his hands. Osborne laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It doesn’t get more real than this, kid. Really, it doesn’t.”

Osborne looked at Ray. “Sit down,” he said. “Let me put the gun in the cabinet. We need to talk. Lew’s gone?”

“Yep. She’ll call you in the morning.”

“Nick, tell Ray what you told me about those bite marks on your shoulders. We need to settle on some things before we all try to get some sleep.”

Nick nodded. Osborne handed him a Kleenex. He wiped at his eyes and blew his nose. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to Ray.

Ray nodded and sank into the chair next to Nick. His eyes were as grave as Osborne had ever seen them.

twenty-nine

“Ratty! Please, I want to row, now!” “Not yet my young friend … wait till you’ve had a few lessons. It’s not so easy as it looks.”
Mole and Water Rat, The Wind in the Willows

A
lukewarm, half-full mug of coffee in his left hand, Osborne banged twice on the screen door to Ray’s trailer early the next morning. It was two minutes before seven. He peered in. Nick, sitting with his back to the door and hunched over the kitchen table, turned around. Ray, caught in the act of slurping his own coffee, waved Osborne in.

“You two look as bleary as I do,” said Osborne. Half grins greeted him. It was clear they all felt equally unsettled. As if to mock the anxiety level in the little trailer, the morning was sunny, light, and delicious with the aroma of frying bacon.

“Pancakes?” said Ray, managing to make his offer sound like a grunt. From the dirty dishes crowding the counter, it was obvious breakfast had been served.

“No, thanks,” said Osborne. “I’m surprised you can eat.” He had barely managed to choke down a bowl of dry cereal and skim milk. Even then, he ate only because he knew he was already on his way to consuming too much caffeine.

“How’s that coffee?” He thrust his cup toward Ray, who reached back for the pot sitting in the coffeemaker.

“Jeez, I hate this,” said Osborne. “I couldn’t sleep I’m so worried about this whole situation. Do you think Joel has any idea what his kid is up to?”

It had crossed Osborne’s mind that if Zenner was as troubled as it appeared he might be, the family might have to leave Loon Lake. That would put Joel in a very tough financial bind. Somewhere around five
a.m
., Osborne decided he would be willing to step back into the dental practice if it meant easing a tragic situation facing the parents. He would certainly do the same if the boy were killed in a car accident. This could be worse.

“Nick,” said Ray, his voice weary as he poured, “tell the good dentist what’s new and exciting in your life this morning.”

“Zenner called a few minutes ago.” Nick pushed his fork at a half-eaten pancake on his plate. “He wants me to skip school and go out to Wildwood with him. He said Mr. Kendrickson has a lot of work he has to have done today, and I could help out. He’ll pay us overtime.”

“I want him to go,” said Ray as he set the coffeepot back on the burner. He clicked off the coffeemaker. “I want him to get Zenner to talk about those guns.”

“Ray,” said Osborne, “you’re not serious. Not only does Zenner have some serious questions to answer on those bite marks, but this is a kid who’s been stockpiling shotguns and high-powered rifles … rifles like the ones used to kill two women.”

“Doc, with no bullets to trace, how can you be sure Zenner’s guns are anything like the ones used? You don’t know that.”

“You’re right,” said Osborne, “but I don’t like the connection with the bite marks, even if they are tattoos. I told you that at four this morning, and I’m telling you again.”

Ray looked at Nick and Nick looked at Osborne.

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Nick firmly. “I don’t believe what you guys are saying about Zenner. You’re wrong, and I’m gonna prove it.” The look on his face convinced Osborne that he was indeed Ray’s son: To be that obstinate in the face of logic required a passion born of blood, not intellect.

“No.” Osborne made his opposition unequivocal. “Lew will never stand for it.”

“Lew won’t know,” said Ray. He raised a hand as Osborne opened his mouth to protest. “Listen to me, Doc. I’m with Nick. Something is w-a-a-y out of kilter here. We have got to hear Zenner’s side of all this before we blow the whistle. It’s one thing for me to sit in the clink; some folks expect it. But a young kid like Zenner? Jeez, just being suspected of something as horrible as these murders … that could affect his reputation for life. You know it will hit the papers statewide, not to mention TV….”

Before Osborne could say a word, Ray continued. “So here’s the plan….”

Osborne stared at the tabletop, listening even as he knew it was the last thing he should be doing.

Ray caught the look on his face and shook a finger at his friend. “Now you hear this out before you say a word, Doc. It’s a good, safe plan. Nick will go out to Wildwood with Zenner. He’s picking him up in about fifteen minutes. They’ll get there right around eight. At nine-thirty, you and I will drop in on the boys. That’s when you and I have a little talk with the Z-man about the bite marks. By that time, Nick will have checked out this gun situation.”

“I’m afraid to ask how you plan to do
that,
“ said Osborne, giving Nick a dim eye. “If you ask me, you two are suffering from sleep deprivation.”

“I can do it easy,” said Nick. He spoke with a firm confidence that surprised Osborne. “We’re always giving each other advice about computers, so I’ll just change the subject to guns. I’ll bring it up real casual, like now that I know I like to fish, the next thing I want to try is deer hunting, maybe bird hunting. I’ll ask Zenner what guns he uses and if he would teach me how to shoot.”

“Yeah,” said Ray. “Then he’ll ask Zenner why he likes certain guns, etc., etc., and will he show Nick a couple? Just like you and me, Doc.”

“Well …” Osborne had to admit it did sound like a typical Northwoods conversation. “Throw in bow hunting, Nick. If you ask about bows, then he won’t think you’re too focused on guns.”

“Great idea,” said Ray. “I like that. So, Doc, what we do then—when we know the story behind these guns—that’s when we go to Lew. Maybe even with Zenner along. See, I think we’ll find out he’s been buying for his dad or a friend of his dad’s. Maybe some collector who doesn’t want everyone to know what he’s looking for. That kind of thing. So now we’ll have an explanation, and we’re basically doing the job she’s asked us to do.”

BOOK: Dead Water
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