Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (12 page)

The motel parking lot was also just far back
enough from the highway so that the sound of the traffic was
muffled by the trees and, mixed in with the sound of the lake just
beyond, became almost soothing.

The last time Fae had been to the Bide-A-Wee
had been for Harry's surprise fortieth birthday party several years
earlier, but nothing seemed to have changed. The motel was actually
a collection of tiny cabins all painted dark green with white trim
and everything about the place said neat and tidy and well cared
for. Harry's wife, Molly, was clearly trying to keep it cheery with
flower boxes in each window, but the straggly geraniums in the
ceramic pots were decidedly uncheery. They looked as if they had
been dying a slow death for ages and were mostly stalks now with
only a few scattered petals hanging on for dear life.

The weather on the North Shore this spring
had been terribly unkind to flowers this year. A late thaw followed
by a couple of even later frosts and two unexpected blizzards had
killed most of the early blooming crocuses and most of the flowers
that had been set out by people who thought winter was finally
over. Fae often thought Mother Nature said "ha, ha, fooled them,"
when she saw the flowers come out and then zapped them just to show
who was in charge. Fae had been fooled herself on more than one
occasion. The geraniums in the pots around the motel had probably
gotten the brunt of the last frost from the look of them.

There were few cars in the parking lot. Most
of the people staying here were probably off doing whatever it was
they had come up here to do. But the cars that were parked here
weren't expensive. They were your basic Toyotas and Hondas and
Fords, with a few Chevys thrown in. No BMWs or even a Lexus. It
would be the same later on when the parking lot was full.

A faint frown creased the spot between her
eyes as she gazed at the parking area and the exterior of the
motel. The Bide-A-Wee was one of the older motels on the shore. Fae
remembered Harry telling her once that it was one of the original
ones from the early 1920's when people from the Cities discovered
the getaway charms of the North Shore. What surprised Fae was how
much the Bide-A-Wee showed its age. For some reason, she had
remembered it as being a lot spiffier.

The North Shore was an extremely popular
destination and Harry had recently mentioned how busy they were,
especially since it wasn't expensive, despite being right on the
lake. Most of the newer hotels or bigger resorts on the North Shore
like Lutsen and Cove Point were fairly pricey and out of the reach
of many vacationers or the hordes of people hiking the Superior
Hiking Trail, not to mention the photographers who flocked here in
October for the fall colors.

However, it occurred to Fae that keeping the
place low-key might be a calculated move on Harry's part. People
with limited funds would take one look at this place and know they
wouldn't be embarrassed when they checked in. Normally she wouldn't
have thought much about it, but having just read the stacks of
information on Devious Dave, it jarred her. The notes in his file
indicated upscale everything. The more expensive, the better. He
went for places with upscale restaurants and bars and all the extra
amenities. His victims traveled in that circle, so why the hell had
he stayed here? It didn't make any sense.

Unless….

A glimmer of an idea began percolating away
at the back of her mind. It was too early to pounce on it just yet
and she needed to check a few things, but it felt promising and Fae
jotted a reminder in her notebook for later.

She pulled herself out of her car and went
into the office. Again, like the outside, it was neat and tidy, but
not anything close to fancy. Mostly it reminded her of a cabin in
the woods. Homey.

No one was at the desk, but she could hear
the drone of a TV coming from the room just beyond. A sign on the
desk said "Ring this bell" and pointed to a squat metal bell
sitting next to it like a chrome frog. Fae swatted it, the tinny
clang loud in the empty room. A minute later Harry came out, wiping
his hands on a yellow dish towel.

Fae's first impression was how big he was and
how small the towel looked. Harry always looked like he'd be more
at home on a tractor in the middle of a corn field than behind a
desk in a motel. He had that Minnesota Scandinavian farm boy look -
the blond hair, blue eyes and a big wide open friendly face with a
ready smile as if he'd just met a long lost friend. His size only
emphasized the farm boy impression. He had the light skin that
tended to go red instead of tanning. A little was going to fat now
that he was moving into his forties, but Fae was willing to bet a
lot of muscle was still lurking under his work shirt and jeans.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted him as she dug in
her purse for her badge. "All this time and it's finally official."
She was pretty sure he knew she worked for the BCA, but up until
now they had only known each other as sort of neighbors and
friends. It wouldn't hurt to make sure he knew this visit was
genuine and not just a bit of local gossip.

"I'll be damned," he said. "I really didn't
expect anyone to show up about this, ya know? Don't know why I dint
think to call you direct."

Harry's thick Minnesota Scandinavian accent
always cracked her up. Fae still didn't know if it was real, or if
he exaggerated it for the benefit of visitors.

"What made you call it in?" she asked, trying
not to grin.

He shrugged and flipped the yellow towel over
the back of the well-worn leather chair next to the desk. "I knew
Ollie and knew he didn't have a brother and that kind of bothered
me, ya know?"

Fae nodded.

"I had to think about it, you know? I dint
wanna make trouble for the guy, especially if that really was his
name. Cuz first I thought maybe it was his real name and he was
just claiming to be Ollie's brother to make himself look big, ya
know?"

Fae nodded again. She loved interviewing
people who didn't need to be prodded to talk.

"But there was just somethin' snarky about
the guy, ya know?"

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "Don't know that I could
put my finger on it exactly, ya know? But it bugged the heck out of
me. 'Sides, when it came right down to it, I liked Ollie and dint
much like someone trying to take advantage like that. Ya know?"

Fae nodded again, beginning to feel like a
bobble head on a bumpy road. "Do you still have the registration
slip by any chance?"

His face lit up. "You betcha. Was thinking
about throwing it away once I made the call, but thought I'd hang
onto it for awhile. Just in case. Ya know?" He dug through his desk
and came up with a slip of paper. "This is just a copy. But if you
need the original, I could get it for you."

"This is just fine for now," Fae said as she
looked at it. She fished out the photo spread she had created and
put it on the desk counter. "Could you pick him out on here?"

Harry studied the pictures carefully and then
put his forefinger on the old photo of Devious Dave. "This is the
closest. But he looked a bit different than this, ya know?"

"In what way?"

"The guy who came in here was a bit older and
not so heavy."

"Anything else?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, the
guy who was in here looked like he had money. So it was kind of
surprising to see someone like that here, ya know?"

"Why?"

"We usually get the hunters and hikers and
such, ya know? Decent room, but nothing fancy. People with money
stay at Lutsen and Storm Point. They want all the extras you get at
places like that. Problem is, you do that, then you gotta have all
kinds of extra people and put money into all kinds of extra stuff
like pools and buffets and such. And you gotta go to all kinds of
extra trouble and then you gotta deal with all the complaints and
stuff like that. If I did that, pretty soon we wouldn't have much
of a life anymore and regular folks couldn’t come here. But the way
it is, regular folks get a nice place at a good price and a lot of
'em come back every year."

"This place reminds me of the places we
stayed when I was a kid," Fae agreed. "Nice, as you say, but not
fancy. Kind of homey."

"But that's what I'm saying, ya know?" He
leaned forward, his expression earnest. "It wasn't
his
kind
of place."

Fae nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.
"Did he say anything that gave you a hint as to why he was up
here?"

"Not a thing. Just that he wanted a room away
from the road and we talked a bit of hockey. But that's about it.
Lots of people come in here like to talk about what they're gonna
do this trip, but not this guy."

"Not even questions about where to go?"

He shook his head. "Nothing about nothing.
And I know for a fact that none of the big places were full when he
was up here 'cuz it was the middle of the week and too early in the
year for the real flood of vacationers. You get some in June, sure.
But most of 'em come up in July and August 'cuz it's still too cold
in June and 'cuz of the black flies and army worms. Those are
pretty much gone by July, but in June, most of the people who come
are hard core hikers and such and this guy wasn't one of
them
."

Now that Harry had pointed it out, Fae
realized he had put his finger right on it. May and June were her
least favorite months up here and that was exactly why. Not to
mention how nothing much bloomed before the end of May because it
was so far north and still too cold. For a flower addict like her,
it felt pretty barren up here a good part of the year.

"Did he leave anything behind in his room?"
she asked. "Maps, notes, anything?" It was a long shot, but worth a
try.

"Not a thing. Neat and tidy in there. Almost
like nobody was even there. Just the unmade bed and you could see
someone had slept there, ya know? Even the towels were hung up nice
and neat. Don't get too many visitors like that, I'll tell you. Ya
know?"

"I'll bet." It might just mean he was a neat
freak, but it might also mean there was a good chance this guy was
up to something and he was being very careful. "How'd you know so
much about the room?" she asked. "I mean, Bea does them for you,
doesn't she?"

He nodded, looking slightly embarrassed now.
"Something about that guy was bugging the heck out of me and so I
popped in there just to take a quick peek. I felt kinda bad, ya
know? Felt kinda like spying. But if he was up to something and was
doing it right there in the room, it's my neck on the line, ya
know?"

Fae did know. But it also told her that if
someone like Harry Peterson was uneasy about a guy like this, she'd
bet both her cats that Devious Dave was up to something.

"Why didn't you call Mike?" Fae asked.

Mike Thompson was the sheriff and was
stationed right in Ruby Cove.

Harry looked down at his hands and started
carefully drying them again on the little yellow towel. Finally he
snuck a glance back at Fae.

"Don't say anything to him, would you?"

"Course not."

"He don't take a lot of stuff serious," Harry
said, his voice lower by several notches, as if the sheriff could
hear him all the way from his office. "I figured he'd just laugh
and that'd be the end. I dint want that to happen if there was
something to this. Ya know?"

Fae nodded. "I do."

She wrote her home number on the back of her
card and handed it to him. "I know Molly has my number, but just in
case. You can always leave a message on the machine if he comes
back or if you think of anything else."

"Oh, and that's another thing," Harry added.
"He dint make any phone calls neither. And we don't have cell
coverage up here. Ya know?"

Fae looked at him, her face thoughtful.
"Thanks, Harry. This has been a lot of help. Tell Molly I said
hello."

After she returned to her car, she put the
key in the ignition, but instead of starting it, she simply sat
there and thought about what Harry had told her and added it to the
germ of an idea she'd had earlier. Her intuition, always pretty
good, was kicking into high gear now and it felt as if all
cylinders were clicking madly into place.

Fae pulled out her notebook and started
writing, beginning with what Harry had told her. Then she added the
question that came up and all the ideas that came with it. Making
the notes helped her clarify her thoughts and when she was done,
Fae nodded thoughtfully.

Now she knew what she needed to do next.

They had been at Storm Point for a week when
Starr's mother announced she was going into Grand Marais for the
first time to pick up some things.

"Can I come, too?" Starr asked. "I promise I
won't get in the way or be a bother."

"I'm not going to be there that long," her
mother said. "There's no need for you to come." She was rummaging
through her purse and Starr figured that as long as her mother
wasn't rushing off to the car, she might have a chance.

"I want to get some film developed," Starr
said. "There isn't a place in Ruby Cove, but there is in Grand
Marais. It's right as you get into town, so it'll be easy to just
drop me off when we get there," she continued as persuasively as
she could. "I can meet you whenever you want when you're ready to
go."

"How long does it take?"

"Just three hours," Starr said.

"I might not be there that long."

Starr had to think about that. It was too far
to walk, so she couldn't get there on her own. "Sometimes they can
do it in two and a half," she said, hoping that would be enough.
The roll had two separate shoots of the Devil's Cauldron and she
couldn't wait to see how the slides had turned out. She hadn't
expected to have the chance to get them developed so soon and even
the possibility was enough to get her bouncing on her toes, except
that if she had, that would have pissed her mother off and then the
answer certainly would be "no". So she held in the impulse and
crossed her fingers behind her back.