The Case of the Unfettered Utonagan

by B R Snow

  “Consider it an homage to your culinary skills,” Josie said as she continued to rub her hand. “Man, that hurt.”

  “Good.”

  From the door, Rooster coughed loudly, and we all spotted P-Squared come to a stop next to him.

  “I thought I might take a glass of wine with me,” he said.

  “Sure,” Chef Claire said, pouring a glass and handing it to him.

  He took a sip and lingered in the doorway.

  “Can I get you something else?” Chef Claire said.

  “No, this is fine, thanks,” P-Squared said, glancing back and forth at both cops.

  “Something on your mind, Peter?” Detective Williams said, staring back.

  “If you don’t mind, I prefer P-Squared, Detective. It’s kind of my calling card.”

  “Sorry. What can we do for you?”

  “I was just wondering which one of us you guys think killed Jeremy,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  “What makes you think we suspect any of you?” Detective Williams said.

  “Let’s call it a hunch,” P-Squared said, then forced a small laugh. “You bring us way out here in the wilderness. To the actual crime scene, no less.”

  “Charlotte mentioned she wanted to see the place,” Chief Abrams said. “We thought the rest of you might want to check it out. And eat Chef Claire’s food in the process.”

  “Okay,” he said, again glancing back and forth at the cops. “If you say so. But I can’t shake the feeling this would be the perfect spot to get a reaction out of whoever killed Jeremy.”

  “Did you come up with that all by yourself?” Josie said.

  “Actually, Charlotte might have mentioned it on the drive over,” he said, then drained his wine and held his glass out for a refill. Chef Claire obliged, and he took another sip. He remained propped up against the doorjamb, his eyes half-closed. “Great dinner.”

  “Thanks,” Chef Claire said.

  “Is there something else you need?” Detective Williams said.

  “Actually, there is,” P-Squared said. “I was wondering if there’s a casino around here?”

  “Yeah, there are,” Chief Abrams said. “But it’s a two-hour drive to any of them.”

  “Indian casinos, right?”

  “They are,” the Chief said.

  “I’ve never had any luck at them,” P-Squared said. “I think they’re rigged. You know, against outsiders.”

  We all stared at him and waited for him to continue.

  “Yeah, I think they’re rigged as some sort of payback for what we did to them.”

  “Score one for the Native Americans,” Josie said.

  “Well, what can you do, right?” P-Squared said more to himself than anyone else. “But I’m jonesing to play some poker. I think I’ll check it out.”

  “But not tonight, right?” the Chief said, nodding at the man’s wine glass.

  “What? Oh, got it. No, not tonight,” P-Squared said with a grin. “The last thing I need is another DUI. Okay, time to join the tour.”

  We watched him head off and waited until Rooster gave us the all clear signal.

  “What a waste of oxygen,” Josie said, massaging her knuckles.

  “What did you ask me before P-Squared honored us with his presence?” Detective Williams said.

  “I asked if you thought the fingerprint analysis would uncover anything,” Josie said.

  “It might,” Detective Williams said. “We took a look at all of them in our system, but nothing useful came back.”

  “What are you looking for?” Chef Claire said.

  “Criminal records. Aliases and prior lives, stuff like that,” I said, then turned to Detective Williams. “How long will it take to run the analysis?”

  “It depends,” he said. “Anywhere from a week to a couple of months.”

  “A couple of months?” I said with a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It is what it is,” the detective said.

  “You’re going philosophical on me?”

  “Hey, I’m just explaining how things work.”

  “Or don’t work.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Suzy,” he said. “Unless you have some serious juice with the FBI, we’re just going to have to wait.”

  The penny dropped, and I beamed at both cops.

  “Actually, I do,” I said, glancing at Chef Claire. “Agent Tompkins. He owes me a favor.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Chief Abrams said. “But what if he’s too busy or refuses to help?”

  “Then we’ll just have Chef Claire ask him,” I said. “He luuuvs Chef Claire.”

  Josie snorted.

  “Don’t start,” Chef Claire said, brandishing the wooden spoon.

  I grinned at her, then headed back into the dining room to make the call. A few minutes later, I returned and nodded.

  “He’ll do it,” I said. “But we’ll need to get the glasses down to the FBI office in Buffalo.”

  “I can get one of my guys to drive them down in the morning,” Detective Williams said. “Did he say how long it would take?”

  “A couple of days, maybe sooner,” I said, then turned to Chef Claire. “Agent Tompkins says hi.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He sounded good,” I said. “Oh, by the way, you’re going to have to cook him dinner next time he’s in town. And he also mentioned something about taking you to a movie.”

  “I live to serve,” Chef Claire deadpanned.

  “I’m just doing my part to push the relationship along,” I said with a laugh. “Okay, we’ve got Gerald working on the Cayman connection. And the FBI is running the fingerprint analysis. What’s next?”

  “I think we should try to get them talking about themselves,” Detective Williams said. “Especially the wife.”

  “And Clarissa,” Chief Abrams said. “She’s been hitting the wine hard and is getting chatty.”

  “But not Charles,” Josie said. “He’s a bit of a cold fish.”

  “I think he’s just being cautious,” I said.

  “About what?” Josie said.

  “If I knew that, we wouldn’t need to get him talking.”

  “There’s no need to get snarky.”

  “What about the brother?” Chef Claire said. “P-Squared. He’s weird.”

  “He’s a follower,” Detective Williams said. “And if he is involved in some way, I’m willing to bet he’s taking orders from somebody else.”

  “What are you serving with dessert?” I said to Chef Claire.

  “Port.”

  “Portuguese?” I said.

  “No, I went Australian. The Penfolds Grandfather.”

  “Ah, family,” Josie said. “It’s going to go great with that torte.”

  “Perfect,” I said to Chef Claire. “Let’s see if we can get a couple of bottles down them.”

  “Got it. Heavy-handed house pour it is,” Chef Claire said. “But it’s got some kick and sneaks up on you. Who’s driving home later?”

  “I am,” Chief Abrams said. “The sacrifices I make.”

  “We’ll send a bottle home with you, Chief,” Chef Claire said. “Okay, who’s ready for dessert?”

  Chapter 22

  “Would anyone like another slice of torte?” Chef Claire said, glancing around the group.

  “Oh, my. No, thank you,” Charlotte said. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite. But I will have some more port if you don’t mind.”

  Chef Claire refilled her glass then topped off the others.

  “Do you eat like this all the time?” Charlotte said.

  “Pretty much,” Chef Claire said. “We like good food.”

  “Well, that dinner certainly qualified,” Charles Howard said. “Well done. Well done, indeed.”

  “Thank you,” Chef Claire said, raising her glass in salute.

  “How did you and Jeremy cross paths, Charles?” I said.

  “He spoke at a venture capitalist conferen
ce I was at,” Charles Howard said.

  “When was that?”

  “Let’s see,” he said, searching his memory bank. “It must have been six, maybe seven years ago.”

  “It was seven,” Charlotte said. “I remember because it was right around the time he left New York.”

  “Why did he leave?” I said.

  “To get away from me, obviously,” she said, glaring at Lacey.

  “You must have someone else in mind, Charlotte,” Lacey said, returning the stare. “I met Jeremy four years ago.”

  “I must be thinking of someone else,” Charlotte said, then let loose with a bitter laugh. “But who could keep them straight? There were so many.”

  “Jeremy was looking for venture capital?” I said to Charles.

  “He was. For his research with the hybrids.”

  “Why would anybody throw VC money at a project like that?” Detective Williams said.

  “He was convinced his research had wider applications,” Charles Howard said with a shrug.

  I gave his comment some thought, then frowned when a question emerged.

  “Human application?” I said.

  “Of course,” Charles Howard said.

  “How could playing around with wolf and dog genetics possibly have human application?” Josie said.

  “Oh, I’m way out of my league when it comes to the actual science involved,” he said. “I’m an investor, not a scientist.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “Can I ask how much you invested?”

  “At first, only ten million.”

  “Only ten, huh?” Josie said.

  “It’s a small price to pay for controlling interest in a supernova,” he said, then noticed our confusion. “It’s what I call startup ventures that get off the ground and explode with growth.”

  “What do you call startups that don’t?” Josie said.

  “Black holes.”

  “Because you’re constantly sinking money into them that just disappears?” I said.

  “Well done,” Charles said with a laugh. “I use a very straightforward approach. For every ten startups I sink money into, I expect to get nine black holes. But that one supernova more than makes up for it.”

  “How many companies have you put money into?” Chef Claire said.

  “Dozens,” he said. “But I usually keep an active roster of five or six at any given time.”

  “Ten million here, ten million there,” Josie said. “Pretty soon you’re talking about real money.”

  “Exactly,” he said, nodding as he reached for his glass of port.

  “Did Jeremy’s research pan out?” I said.

  “Apart from being able to control the genetics of those hybrid wolves, not a bit,” Charles said.

  “A black hole?” I said.

  “They don’t get much blacker,” he said, laughing.

  “How much money did you sink into it?” I said.

  “Oh, I’d rather not say. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Why did you keep plowing money into it?” Chief Abrams said.

  “I had a soft spot for Jeremy,” Charles Howard said. “He was so…unique. Truly a remarkable man. Just misguided when it came to what you and I would call normal daily life. Maladjusted is probably the closest term I can come up with.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Charlotte said. “What about you, Lacey? Can I assume we agree on at least that?”

  “I really don’t want to get into it, Charlotte.”

  “Of course not,” Charlotte said with an evil grin before turning to Clarissa. “What about you, dear? How did you handle Jeremy’s idiosyncrasies?”

  “With kid gloves, usually,” Clarissa said, refilling her glass.

  “How did you end up working for him?” I said.

  “I’d heard about his work, and it sounded interesting,” she said, then took a long sip. “I finally worked up the courage to stop by his office. We chatted for about an hour, and I just asked him to hire me.”

  “What’s your academic background?” Lacey said.

  “Biology. Biochemistry is more accurate,” Clarissa said. “I was planning to start my doctoral work, but I put it on the back burner after I started working for Jeremy.”

  “Are you going to go back to school?” I said.

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now,” Clarissa said, then glanced back and forth at the two cops. “But there’s no need to worry about that until you guys give me the okay to leave town, right?”

  “We’re very sorry about that, Clarissa,” Detective Williams said. “But I’m sure you understand. It’s pretty standard procedure.”

  “Since it’s obvious I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Jeremy, I don’t know why I can’t leave.”

  “It won’t be long,” Detective Williams said.

  “Chill out, girl,” Charlotte said, then giggled as she glanced around. “Did I say that right?”

  “I don’t know who’s worse,” Clarissa said. “You or the cops.”

  “Have another glass of port while you sort it out,” Charlotte said.

  “I’ve been wondering something,” Lacey said as she turned to Charles Howard right on cue. “Why do you think Jeremy left you control of his operating fund?”

  “He didn’t,” Charlotte said.

  “Let’s just wait for the lawyers to sort that one out, Charlotte,” Charles said. “But to answer your question, I imagine he did it out of guilt.”

  “For what, wasting millions of your money?” Lacey said.

  “That would be my guess,” he said. “And he obviously wanted you to continue his research. Maybe he felt he could trust me to provide the ongoing funds needed to do it. As opposed to someone else.”

  “Stuff a sock in it, Charles,” Charlotte snapped.

  “You’re going to challenge the will?” Lacey said.

  “I am,” he said. “If it looks like Charlotte might try getting in the way.”

  “But why?” Clarissa said.

  “Because I know that’s what Jeremy would have wanted,” Charles Howard said, then flashed Charlotte an evil grin.

  “But you said yourself you weren’t worried about the money,” Clarissa said.

  “I’m not,” Charles said with a shrug. “It’s more about the principle involved.”

  “For the last time,” Charlotte said. “There is no will. Thanks to that shyster lawyer.”

  “Maybe there’s another copy of the will floating around,” Lacey said casually.

  I was ready for her comment and was concentrating on Clarissa’s face. She flinched briefly, and I knew Lacey’s remark had struck a nerve.

  “Another copy of the will?” Charlotte said. “That’s all we need.”

  “Nothing like muddying the water,” Clarissa said.

  “So, what do you think of Cabot Lodge, Charlotte?” I said.

  “It’s okay,” she said, glancing around the room. “If you’re into Early Pioneer. Which I’m not.”

  “What do you think you’re going to do with the place?” I said.

  “Sell it,” she said as a simple statement of fact. “Just as soon as I get rid of those animals out back.”

  “Uh, Charlotte,” I said. “I need to tell you that you aren’t going to be able to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have them put down.”

  “Really?” she said, draping a leg over her knee. “Watch me.”

  “Well, since Charles is talking about bringing in a lawyer, we might as well add a few more to the mix, right?”

  “Works for me,” Josie said, glaring at the widow.

  “You’re going to sue me?” Charlotte said, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s call it an injunction.”

  “On whose authority?”

  “District court,” Josie said.

  “And the attorney general of New York,” I said.

  “What?” Charlotte said. “Wha
t on earth does the attorney general have to do with this?”

  “He’s a friend of my mother,” I said. “And it turns out, he’s quite an animal lover.”

  “Don’t forget the reporter from the New York Times,” Chef Claire said.

  “Oh, right,” I said, grinning at her before turning back to Charlotte. “Do you know a feature writer by the name of Geoffrey Goodwin?”

  Charlotte chewed her bottom lip before responding.

  “I’m familiar with his work,” she said eventually.

  “His stuff has a bit of a gossipy flavor to it,” I said. “But he’s good. And he loves taking shots at socialites who think they’re somehow above the fray.”

  “He’d have a field day with a story about someone who had a bunch of rare animals put down just because they were inconvenient,” Rooster said.

  “Let me guess,” Charlotte said. “Goodwin’s also a friend of your mother?”

  “No, actually he’s a friend of mine,” Rooster said. “He stores his boat at my marina. And we fish together in the summer.”

  “Why on earth do you even care about that bunch of creatures?” Charlotte said, genuinely bewildered by the idea.

  “Rhetorical?” Josie said, glancing over at me.

  “No, I don’t think she was going for rhetorical.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Josie said, nodding. “Just wanted to make sure.”

  “It was worth checking, though,” I said, then focused on Charlotte. “We care about them because that’s what we do.”

  Charlotte fell silent and looked back and forth at us for a long time before exhaling audibly.

  “Okay. What do you want?”

  “Just some time,” I said. “We simply want to leave the hybrids where they are until we can figure out what to do with them.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “There must be wolf sanctuaries around they could go to,” Charlotte said.

  “Maybe the two males,” Josie said. “But the hybrids might not last a week living among purebreds.”

  “Then put them up for adoption,” Charlotte said. “People are always looking for exotic pets.”

  “Too dangerous,” I said. “They have enough wolf in them to make them very unpredictable. Especially around young kids.”