They were working, both carrying a sidearm, so there was no alcohol. However, Tori quickly realized there was another reason that Braddock wanted to come out to Mannion’s. The bartender and waitress working the night of Lash’s disappearance were also working.
“Did you know they’d be working?” Tori asked.
Braddock shrugged knowingly as he perused the menu. “Educated guess. Friday, Saturday and Sunday and holidays are when you really make the money, so I figured…”
“There was a chance they’d be on,” Tori finished. “Otherwise, we would have been chasing them down.”
“Correct.”
Braddock made a point of asking the waitress and bartender to come over.
“It was over in like a second,” the waitress stated.
“What happened?” Tori asked.
The bartender snorted a laugh. “Brule was drinking and was being a little obnoxious but nothing out of the ordinary. He was seated at the corner of the bar with Eddie Mannion. That’s why I remembered it because he was sitting with the boss, ya know. They had a few other friends with them earlier but when this all went down it was just Brule and Eddie. Lash and her friends were on the other side of the corner. They were partying like they usually do, and Genevieve was dressed like she always was.”
“Which was suggestive,” Braddock replied, looking to the bartender. “Am I wrong?”
“No. She was in here all the time. She liked low cut shirts and high cut shorts and she was in both that night. That Brule guy was leering at her, as were probably twenty or thirty other guys at a minimum. However, this guy, this Brule guy, was two feet away from her.” She looked to the waitress. “Do you remember?”
“Yeah. I was at the side station getting my order filled. I was looking over there and Brule just plain as day reached over and grabbed Genevieve on the ass and pinched. She turned around, looked him over once and said something to the effect of know your place.”
“And that set him off,” the bartender added. “He started off his stool, but before it got out of hand Eddie, and then a few seconds later Kyle, stepped in and separated them.”
“The whole thing lasted less than a minute,” the waitress added. “But when Genevieve gave him the know your place, I thought we might have a blowup. She practically spit on him.”
“She did, at least verbally,” Braddock replied, taking some notes.
“Kyle wouldn’t happen to be around, would he?” Tori asked.
“Yeah, actually he is,” the bartender replied. “He’s sitting out on the patio with some people. I’ll go get him.”
Ten minutes later, Kyle made his way over to the table and joined them, taking a seat next to Tori. He confirmed his employees’ version of the events. “Gunther is a friend of Eddie’s. Unfortunately, as I’m sure you’re now aware, he drinks too much. But he’s a pretty good worker.”
“How do you know?” Tori inquired.
“He works for me out at the explosives plant.”
“You own that?”
“I own a majority piece of it,” Kyle answered. “I own a piece of a lot of businesses around here.”
“Let me ask you,” Braddock inquired. “Do you guys have mercury out at that plant?”
“I’m not an explosives expert, but I’d venture we do. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
Kyle looked over to Tori. “I’ve been remiss not to reach out to you since you’ve come back. I know why you’re back. I’m sure it’s dredged up a lot of memories and not all of them good. But as someone who loves this lake, this town and this area, I really appreciate you coming back. I really do.”
“Thanks, Kyle,” Tori replied softly. “That’s very kind of you. It’s not a view universally held.”
Kyle looked over to Braddock, who looked away while mumbling, “I didn’t say anything.”
“Hah!” Kyle laughed and then looked back to Tori. “Well, I mean it. So, welcome home. Dinner is on me.”
“That’s okay, Kyle,” Braddock replied, holding up his hand. “We can’t do…”
Kyle smiled. “Will, the server is going to deliver you a bill. You’ll put a credit card in the folder. She’ll take it and then she’ll come back and you’re going to sign a bill for zero and it’s my treat in my place. And by the way, I recommend the ribeye tonight. It is particularly good.”
Braddock took Kyle Mannion’s advice, while for the first time in twenty years Tori had walleye. “Oh my gosh, I’ve forgotten how delicious a great piece of walleye could taste.”
“You’ve had to have had all kinds of great fish and seafood living on the East Coast.”
“Oh, I have,” Tori answered with a satisfied smile. “But people there don’t have any idea how good a fillet of walleye can be. The sheriff, my dad, he loved walleye. We’d catch it out of the lake. We’d cut up the fillets up in the garage and then he’d cook them up. He would have so loved this.”
“Careful, Tori,” Braddock warned with a smile, “or you might start sounding like you like it here.”
“Like Kyle said, there’s lots of memories here, not all of them good,” she replied and then after a moment, with a small smile added, “but not all of them bad, either.”
As the waitress cleared their plates and left the faux bill behind Tori asked, “Where are we at?”
Braddock signed and pocketed his credit card, leaving a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Let’s go see Cal.”
Cal owned a house on Norway Lake, a smaller, quieter lake reachable from Steamboat via a long winding channel on the northwest corner of the lake. In Cal’s kitchen, sipping decaf coffee, they discussed the case.
There was a clear connection between Brule and Lash, brief as it might have been. A van with a description matching Brule’s van was spotted in the area from where Tori was shot at. He had no alibi for the morning, or at least no one to corroborate it, nor one for when Lash went missing. He liked guns, was skilled in their use, worked at the explosives factory and given his professional and educational background, possessed the knowledge of how to use mercury. There was all of that, along with some history of violence against women.
Braddock checked in with Steak. He reported that Fran Larson was certain that the van she saw on Friday morning was Gunther’s van. “She said it was that van, no question. I mixed in some different white panel vans to a photo array, but she picked it right out.”
That was what they had thus far.
“So, you guys tell me he was in an inebriated state on Friday night?” Cal asked. “How does that square with him shooting at you Saturday morning?”
“He faked it,” Tori answered. “Jeff and Eddie both said he didn’t seem to be drinking any more than normal, yet he was blotto and couldn’t drive, had to be helped into the house, passed out on the bed.”
“Because he knew he wouldn’t have an alibi,” Cal surmised.
“Exactly,” Tori answered. “The next best thing is to get two impeccable local witnesses beyond reproach to essentially say he was in no condition to be out taking shots at me and trying to blow up Will’s truck.”
“That’s how it could have happened,” Braddock replied. “But there are still a lot of holes in that theory. And, I don’t know...” His voice trailed off.
Tori recognized his reticence. “You’re thinking about all of the other women, right?”
Braddock nodded.
“Me too.”
“And does Genevieve Lash get in his panel van on County Road 163?” Braddock asked. “After what happened at the bar.”
“Fair point,” Tori replied. “But then there was the weather…”
“Hold on,” Cal interrupted, shaking his head. “Just hold on a second.”
“What?” Braddock asked.
“You two are suffering from a case of paralysis by analysis,” Cal stated.
“Meaning what?” Tori asked.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Cal replied. He frowned at his coffee
cup and tossed it into the sink and went the fridge. He grabbed three Buds out of the refrigerator and passed them out.
A beer was a good idea, with Braddock and Tori both taking long sips from their bottles. “Listen,” Cal started, “might you both accept an alternative theory from yours truly?”
“Which is?” Tori asked, taking a drink of her Budweiser.
“This old man thinks two very smart, invested people are overthinking this. Forget about the other women for a minute,” the sheriff counseled. “I know you two have a lot of time invested in that but they’re in twelve states, it’s over many years and there is no physical evidence in those cases. They might be connected, but it’s probably more likely they’re not or someone would have gotten onto it by now. Women go missing, people go missing all the time. They’re taken when other people aren’t looking. It’s a fact of life. In this case, just because you have twenty-three seemingly similar women who’ve disappeared over twenty years doesn’t mean they are all connected.”
“I don’t know,” Tori started, skeptical.
“Victoria, let me finish. Gunther Brule, on the other hand, he fits what’s happened here. Doesn’t he?”
Tori slowly nodded and looked over to Braddock.
“Cal’s right, he does.”
“That’s right,” Cal asserted. “Let’s sit down with the county attorney and get ourselves a search warrant. I think our probable cause is a little weak, but I bet we can coax ourselves a warrant out of judge.”
“If we had that…” Braddock started.
“Right,” Cal replied. “I want to search his van and run the tires on it. With the warrant we can evaluate his guns, what he has and run it against the shell casings and bullets we have. Let’s go deep on this guy. Call his ex-wife and ask her about the domestic assault. Get his work records. And most of all, after we do all of that, let’s get his ass in one of our interrogation rooms and really go to work on him and get answers. If we eliminate him, we eliminate him. Fine, and we keep going but it’s time to force the issue.”
Tori looked to Braddock. “What could it hurt?”
“It’s either Gunther or it isn’t. Only one way to find out.”
“Exactly,” Cal affirmed. “The simplest answer is usually the right one. You guys have a break here. I say run with it. But then again, I’m just a simple county sheriff here in the north country and you two are elite investigative minds, so what do I know?”
Tori shared a look with Braddock. Gunther Brule checked some important boxes. He was around the night Jessie went missing. There was a connection to Genevieve Lash. He was a soldier and liked guns. His van was seen in the area of the shooting and he worked at an explosives plant with likely access to mercury.
“And Gunther is in the database,” Braddock noted. “Plus, he was charged with domestic assault, although never prosecuted. That at least evidenced a tendency to violence toward women.”
“You know, any one of these facts in isolation can be explained away,” Tori said, looking to Braddock. “But you start adding all that up and it tells a story.”
“Means, motive and opportunity,” Braddock stated.
“The evidence says Gunther Brule is your guy,” Cal counseled. “Let’s go get him.”
“Do you think we’ll get the search warrant?” Tori asked as Braddock pulled into the Radisson parking lot.
“I think so,” Braddock answered as he pulled to a stop under the canopy. “If we get push back, I have a couple of cards to play.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve got someone I can call who has influence around here with people who run for election.”
“Might that be the guy who comped our meal?”
“Could be,” Braddock answered, “could be.”
Tori smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For working this like you have.”
“It’s my job.”
“No. You’ve been going above and beyond here. I know that.”
Braddock nodded, looking away for a moment, “The town needs answers.” He turned back to Tori, locking his eyes with hers. “And you need closure. If I can bring that about, well, it’s worth all I can give.”
Tori nodded lightly before quickly leaning in, cupping his cheek with her hand and kissing him, a soft peck on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said before pulling away and quickly slipping out of the truck.
Braddock watched her walk inside the hotel. “See you in the morning.”
CHAPTER 22
“NOT THE DRAMATIC CONFRONTATION YOU EXPECTED.”
G eorge Backstrom thought their probable cause was thin but said, “The Honorable Elmer Henderson is the judge available today. He’s a former prosecutor who has been known to view the Fourth Amendment as imbued with a certain useful elasticity.”
Braddock, Tori and Steak completed sworn affidavits in support of the request. By 1:00 p.m. they went before Judge Henderson, who issued the warrant with just minimal inquiry. Unsaid was that if it was about the Lash and Jessie Hunter cases, everyone wanted to see something happen, including the court.
But they couldn’t find Brule.
When Braddock and Tori went to serve the search warrant at Brule’s home he wasn’t there. The white van was gone. Steak went to the explosives plant, but Brule didn’t show for work.
“Gunther never misses work,” the chief operating officer reported, “We haven’t even had a phone call from him. Very odd.”
Braddock looked to Tori. “Did he skip town?”
“If he did, he can’t get far,” she answered. “I wouldn’t have bet on him running on Saturday night. He was pretty combative.”
“Maybe that was for show. If he was acting all drunk when he wasn’t, he could have been acting all combative when he knew the jig was up,” Braddock replied before shaking his head.
“I should have put someone on him. Shit.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Tori answered. “I was right there with you. I didn’t think it was necessary.”
A full-on search was commenced. Deputies checked in with known friends and associates. Eggleston tried the VFW to no avail. Tori called on Jeff Warner. “I have no idea where he could be. I can try and call him.”
“If you would.”
Warner called back fifteen minutes later. “Sorry, Tori. No answer. But I’ll keep trying. If I get him, I’ll call you.”
Tori tried Eddie Mannion.
“I have no idea where he could be.”
“Would you tell me even if you did?”
“I don’t know where he is,” Eddie answered curtly and hung up.
Steak called in. “I was just talking to one of his co-workers at the factory. He told me Gunther has a cabin up on Benedict Lake.”
Braddock looked to Tori. “Do you feel like taking a drive?”
Benedict Lake was due west of the small lakeside town of Walker. Walker itself rested on the far west end of Leech Lake, a behemoth of a lake, a little under an hour’s drive north up the H-4. The cabin was in Cass County. Braddock called ahead, and Cass County Sheriff Corbin Hansen was waiting for them.
“Hello, Will,” Hansen greeted with a warm handshake.
Braddock introduced Tori.
“I knew Big Jim Hunter,” Hansen bellowed, taking Tori’s small hand in his huge bear paw of one. “I had great respect for him. He was good people, real good people.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Call me Corbin. Now, tell me what’s all this hubbub about?”
Braddock handed Hansen the search warrant, explaining its import.
“Well then, we best get out there then to see if this Brule character is about.”
Hansen had one of his deputies join him. Braddock and Tori followed Hansen and his deputy out of Walker.
“Sheriff Hansen seems like an amiable guy.”
“Corbin is about as folksy as they come,” Braddock replied. “He’s been sheriff up here forever. He has a li
ttle house on Walker Bay, does the sheriff gig and fishes all year long.”
“A good life.”
“I’ve sure come to think so.”
“You love it here, don’t you?” Tori asked, smiling.
“I do.”
“You must have had some doubts when you made the move.”
Braddock nodded. “I’ll admit I was worried that I might get bored pretty quickly. I feared Manchester was a great place to visit for a week in the summer, but not to live here year around.”
“You thought you were moving to Siberia.”
“Exactly. But it’s been great. Instead of a cramped, two-bedroom Brooklyn condo, we live in nice house with a yard on a gorgeous lake with boats, wave runners and fishing. Quinn is beyond happy around all his cousins and friends, playing baseball and hockey. And last winter he played travel hockey, he was a first-year squirt. I was introduced to a new concept—the safety meeting.”
“What’s a safety meeting?”
“A meeting where the hockey dads go to the bar before their kids’ games and discuss all things safety over beer and chicken wings.”
“Ahh, pre-gaming.”
“Exactly. It was fun. Don’t get me wrong, Quinn misses his mom, as do I. I think of her every day. But my boy is having a wonderful childhood and gets to do so many things he’d never get to do in New York City. I have a good job, I’ve made some nice friends and I have family close by, something I never had as a kid. Between life insurance, selling Megan’s piece of the design business and our condo in Brooklyn, I’m comfortable financially. So it’s all good here.”
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“There’s nothing like living on the lake.”
“Really?” Braddock replied, surprised. “I pegged you as all citified now.”
“I may be, but I lived on Steamboat growing up too, Jessie and me. We spent our summers doing all the stuff Quinn’s doing now. And just like Quinn, I lost my mom when I was young, but I still had a great childhood. I should remember that more often than I do.”
It was a ten-minute drive northwest out of Walker on County 38. Turning left off the county road, they motored west along a tight winding gravel road through a tunnel of thick woods, at the end of which they found an even narrower driveway through more thick woods that led to the smallish boxy one-story cabin.
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