The Case of the Unfettered Utonagan

by B R Snow

  “Our best guess is three, maybe four.”

  “And all different percentages of wolf.”

  “Probably,” I said, studying the male in the first cage that was keeping a close eye on all of us. I spotted Freddie brushing away the snow near the body. A large, jagged rock came into view. “Interesting.”

  “What?” Lacey said, her eyes following mine.

  “The rock at the bottom of the stairs,” I said, then called out. “Freddie, does that rock have blood on it?”

  “A little,” he said without looking up from what he was doing.

  “You think he fell and hit his head?” Lacey said.

  “No, I don’t. But somebody might have wanted us to think that,” Freddie said.

  “He was murdered?” Lacey whispered.

  “That’s my first guess,” I said, again bouncing on my toes. “Any idea who might want to kill him?”

  “Ex-girlfriend. His wife. Business partners. Irate husbands. People he swindled money out of,” Lacey said. “Should I continue?”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “The thought also crossed my mind from time to time,” she said, then caught the look I was giving her. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

  Chief Abrams led the way up the stairs. Detective Williams and Freddie followed. The state policeman studied the top step then looked down at the body. He repeated it several times with a frown on his face.

  “I don’t know, Chief,” he said. “I suppose it’s possible. What do you think, Freddie?”

  “That he did a header down the stairs and landed on that rock?” the medical examiner said. “If he slipped and bounced down the stairs, I’d say no. He wouldn’t have generated enough speed on his way down to create a head wound that big. But if he somehow managed to miss the top step and fall through the air the whole way, maybe.”

  “How long has he been dead?” I said.

  “My best guess is a couple of days,” Freddie said. “But since he’s been outside in this cold, it’s hard to tell at the moment.”

  Josie stepped out onto the porch and shivered.

  “How’s it going?”

  “We were just discussing the possibility Peters fell down the stairs and hit his head,” Chief Abrams said.

  “And?” Josie said.

  The two cops looked at each other, then focused on Freddie who gave it some thought then shrugged.

  “It’s remote. At best,” he said. “A shovel or a piece of firewood is more likely.”

  “Yeah,” Detective Williams said, nodding. He stared off into the distance then appeared to notice the cages for the first time. “The guy was a dog lover, huh?”

  “That’s debatable,” Josie said. “He was breeding dogs with wolves.”

  “What?” the detective said with a deep frown.

  “Yeah, hybrids,” I said.

  “To what end?” Detective Williams said.

  “He was trying to come up with a hybrid that could live in the wild but still be socialized enough to live around people,” Lacey said.

  “Excuse me if this sounds intrusive, but how the heck do you know that?”

  “I used to work for him,” Lacey said softly. “And we dated for a while.”

  “How long ago was this?” the detective said.

  “I called it off a couple years ago,” she said.

  “And you just moved to the area? Right around the time he died?”

  “Easy, Detective Williams,” I said.

  “I’m just asking,” he said, staring at me.

  “It’s okay, Suzy,” Lacey said. “It’s a logical question to ask. Yes, Detective. I just moved to the area to work for Suzy and Josie. But I didn’t have a clue Jeremy was living around here.”

  “Okay,” Detective Williams said. “But I’m sure we’re going to have some questions for you.”

  “I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” she said.

  “Can we continue this conversation inside?” Chief Abrams said.

  “What a good idea,” Josie said, wheeling around and heading for the door.

  We followed and I stood in front of the fire to warm myself up. Then I flinched and pressed a hand on my stomach.

  “What’s the matter, darling?” my mother said, immediately on point.

  “The baby is kicking,” I said. “Relax, Mom.”

  “We should get going,” she said. “You don’t need us, right, Chief?”

  “No, you guys are good to go whenever you’re ready,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Detective Williams said.

  “The hybrids,” I said, nodding.

  “I assume you’ll be taking them to your place,” the detective said.

  Josie and I shook our heads in unison.

  “Not a chance,” Josie said.

  “But you’re the dog people,” Detective Williams said. “Why not?”

  “Because we don’t know what we’re dealing with,” I said. “We can’t take the risk.”

  “Risk? What are you talking about?”

  “Peters has been breeding wolves with dogs,” Josie said. “And until we know the genetics of each hybrid, there’s no way we can keep them at the Inn.”

  “I’m not following you,” Detective Williams said.

  “Just because an animal is socialized, it doesn’t mean its instincts are negated. Wolves are predators. And we have a lot of dogs, particularly smaller ones, who could be in danger,” I said. “Not a chance we’re taking them back to our place.”

  “Is there anybody around the area who could take them?” the detective said.

  “I seriously doubt it,” Josie said. “And I wouldn’t be comfortable recommending that option.”

  “Okay,” Detective Williams said. “Hey, you guys also have a rescue center. You’ve got a ton of acreage. Couldn’t you put them there?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “As soon as spring gets here, we’re going to have families with young kids visiting.”

  “Just leave them in a cage,” the detective said with a shrug.

  “They’re already in a cage,” Josie said. “They need to be put somewhere where they can run.”

  “And that’s the problem,” I said.

  “You got that right,” Josie said.

  “I think I’m going to need a bit more,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Those hybrids out there are caught between a rock and a hard place. They’d have a tough time surviving in the wild. Especially since they’re used to being hand fed. And there’s no way we can let people adopt them.”

  “Then we’ll just put them down,” Detective Williams said, shrugging it off.

  “Over my dead body,” Josie snapped.

  “What she said,” I said, glaring at the cop.

  “Oh, you were doing so well up to that point, Detective,” my mother said, laughing.

  “Yeah, I knew it as soon as it came out of my mouth,” the detective said, grinning at her. “Okay, then. What do you suggest we do with them?”

  “We’ll just leave them here,” Lacey said.

  “Great idea,” Josie said. “We can take turns coming out here to feed them until we get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

  “No, there’s no need for that,” Lacey said. “I’ll just stay here. I need a place to live. As long as we don’t get any more storms, I’ll be able to get in and out.”

  “Peters’ truck is in the garage,” Rooster said. “And it has a snowplow on the front.”

  “He was plowing his own road,” I said. “Apparently, he thought of everything.”

  “It would be okay for me to stay here, wouldn’t it?” Lacey said, glancing back and forth at both cops. “You know, from a legal standpoint.”

  “I don’t see why not,” the Chief said. “At least until we find out if the guy had a will.”

  “Or if he even owned the place,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” Detective Williams said. “If Peters was murdered, there�
�s always a chance whoever did it might come back.”

  “I’ll stay here with her,” Rooster said.

  “You will?” Chief Abrams said.

  “Sure. It’ll give me something to do other than watch TV,” Rooster said, then glanced at Lacey. “If it’s okay with you.”

  “I don’t have a problem with it,” she said. “It’ll be good to have some company.”

  “That settles it,” Rooster said, then looked at me. “You mind taking care of my guys for a few days?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “We’ll swing by and pick them up on our way home.”

  “Okay,” Detective Williams said. “But if you see anybody hanging around, let us know right away.”

  “I’ll ride back with you,” Rooster said. “I’ll leave my snowmobile here. We might need it at some point.” He looked at Lacey. “What kind of car do you have?”

  “A four-wheel drive SUV,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll pick up our cars and caravan back. We should get going. I’d like to get settled in before it gets dark.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Lacey said. “We might need to shop for food.”

  “No, you’re fine,” my mother said. “The place is stocked.” She focused on the cops. “Gentlemen, we are going to head out. You must have a ton of work left to do.”

  “I’ll need a ride,” Freddie said. “I’ve got to grab some folks then get back out here to remove the body.”

  “Detective Williams and I will wait until you get back, Rooster,” the Chief said. “While you’re gone, we’ll see if we can make some sense out of this.”

  “Good luck,” I said, shaking my head. “Okay, let’s hit the road. All we need to do is figure out how to fit seven people in the SUV.”

  Josie sidled up next to Rooster and gave him an evil grin.

  “Your new roomie can sit on your lap,” she whispered.

  “Shut it,” Rooster said, then laughed.

  “Some people will do anything for a date,” I said, grinning at him.

  “I repeat, shut it.”

  “A cozy cabin in the woods. A nice bottle of wine. A roaring fire,” Josie said.

  “Hey, I could do a lot worse,” Rooster said.

  “So could she,” I said, gently punching him on the shoulder.

  Chapter 8

  By noon the next day, Josie and I were back at Cabot Lodge chatting with Lacey about her first impressions of the hybrids. The Chief and Rooster were inside exploring the house for clues.

  “So, he was definitely murdered?” Lacey said as she continued tossing chunks of raw meat through the slots in the cages.

  “Yeah, he was,” I said. “Freddie called the Chief last night. He found traces of wood embedded in the back of his head.”

  “Geez, Jeremy. What on earth were you up to?” Lacey said, her eyes wet and wide. “Have they found the murder weapon?”

  “No,” I said. “The Chief thinks whoever killed him probably just tossed it in the fireplace.”

  “Burn the evidence,” Lacey said, nodding. “That makes sense.”

  “What’s your take on these guys so far?” Josie said.

  “From what I can tell, the two males are definitely pure wolf,” Lacey said. “Or very close to it. The others all have some percentage of wolf in them.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I said.

  “It’s the way they’re all skittish when people are around,” Lacey said. “Most dogs love being around people or are at least willing to check them out. These guys all hang back when we’re out here.”

  “The males are definitely on guard,” Josie said. “What’s the word I’m looking for?”

  “Wary,” I said, returning the stare one of the males was giving me. “Have you seen the Utonagan?”

  “No, she’s not around anywhere,” Lacey said.

  “What the heck are we going to do with them?” Josie said, glancing down the row of cages. “There’s no way we could ever feel comfortable letting anybody adopt them.”

  “No, there’s not,” I said, then headed for the stairs that led to the back porch. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s get out of this cold.”

  We walked inside, and I left Josie and Lacey in the kitchen making coffee while I went looking for the Chief. I heard him and Rooster upstairs. I took one look at the long staircase that led to the second floor and decided I could wait for their update. I wandered down a hall and came to a home office. Sitting behind the desk was a tech from the state police I’d met before. I knocked softly. He looked up and waved me in.

  “Hey, Suzy. Wow, look at you. You must be getting close, huh?”

  “Hi, Jimbo,” I said, slowly making my way to the desk. “Yeah, it won’t be long now. And I can’t wait.”

  “Sure, I get that,” Jimbo Walker said. “My wife loves being pregnant, but near the end, she can’t wait for it to be over.”

  “How many kids do you guys have now?”

  “Five,” he said, rocking back and forth in the leather chair. “And we’re done.”

  “Is it okay for me to sit down?”

  “Sure. I just finished dusting for prints,” he said. “Knock yourself out.”

  I sat down and looked around the office. A large bookshelf filled with academic-looking textbooks dominated one wall. Various framed photographs hung on another. Apart from the computer, the desktop was clear and polished.

  “Interesting,” I said.

  “What’s that?” Jimbo said without looking up from the collection of fingerprints he was organizing into a stack.

  “Peters was supposedly eccentric,” I said. “But this doesn’t look like the office of a scatterbrain.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jimbo said, finally looking up from his work. “But it takes all kinds, right?”

  “Yeah, I suppose it does. Were you able to get into his computer?”

  “No, it’s password protected, and I couldn’t find it anywhere,” he said. “As soon as Detective Williams gets a search warrant, we’ll be taking it.”

  “Does he even need a warrant?” I said, frowning. “It’s a murder investigation.”

  “He’s playing it by the book,” Jimbo said. “You know Detective Williams. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Is that Peters’ phone?”

  “Yeah. Same deal. Password protected. But it doesn’t matter. We’ll be able to get at all his stuff. It’s just going to take some time,” Jimbo said, getting to his feet. “Okay, I’m gonna get out of here. My kid has a hockey game at three, and I need to drop these prints off first.”

  “Nice seeing you, Jimbo.”

  “You too, Suzy. Hey, is it true the guy was breeding wolves with dogs?”

  “It certainly looks like it.”

  “Why can’t people just leave Mother Nature alone?”

  “He was a genetic engineer. I imagine he couldn’t help himself,” I said with a shrug.

  “Well, you and Josie are the experts on our four-legged friends,” he said, pausing at the door. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “The animals are between a rock and a hard place.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

  “Is it okay if I poke around in here?”

  “Sure,” he said, laughing. “I’ve got all I need. But Detective Williams said he was coming out later this afternoon. And you might want to be done snooping by the time he gets here. He’s pretty protective about his investigations.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said, grinning at him.

  “I’m sure you do,” Jimbo said. “Have fun. And good luck with the baby.”

  “Thanks, Jimbo,” I said, waving.

  After he left the office, I picked up Peters’ phone and turned it on. The screen blinked, waiting for the password. I set the phone down on the desk and focused on the computer. It was a laptop connected to two monitors. I turned it on and was soon staring at another screen, also waiting for a password. I rummaged thr
ough the desk looking for something the passwords might be written on but came up empty. I was staring off into space drumming my fingers on the desk when Chief Abrams entered.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” he said, approaching the desk and sitting down across from me.

  “Just trying to figure out where Peters might have written down his passwords.”

  “Did Jimbo give you permission to be poking around in here?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “Permission is such a strong term, Chief.”

  “Suzy,” he said, his voice rising in warning.

  “Relax. He said it was okay. He’s got all he needs. But he had to leave everything here until Detective Williams gets a search warrant.”

  “Yeah, he’s a stickler when it comes to stuff like that,” Chief Abrams said, placing a leather-bound journal on the desk.

  “I see you’ve been snooping around as well,” I said, nodding at the journal.

  “I’m a cop. I don’t snoop. I investigate.”

  “Okay, Columbo. Whatever you say. What is that thing?”

  “A journal I found in the nightstand next to his bed,” the Chief said. “The late-night random musings of a nutjob. There’s some weird stuff in it.”

  I flipped through the journal, pausing to read random selections. I frowned and read a snippet a second time.

  “Tame the present to formulate the future. Isolate cruel randomness and destroy it now. A better tomorrow for those who dare to create. Don’t ask why. Just ask how.”

  “Not exactly the lyrics to a country song,” the Chief said.

  “At least it rhymes,” I said with a laugh. I continued flipping through the pages and landed on an elaborate drawing that seemed to fold back on itself. “Did you see this one? It looks like one of those M.C. Escher drawings.”

  “I always liked his stuff,” Chief Abrams said. “Hands drawing hands. Staircases that appear to go up and down at the same time. Let me see it.”

  I handed the journal to the Chief who studied the page closely. “It’s a combination of letters and numbers. I can’t quite make it out.”

  “It says Project Org 2020,” I said.

  “Okay, yeah, now I see it,” he said, handing the journal back. “But what the heck does it mean?”