“Why do you call her Buster if she’s not a he?”
“I’ve seen that fish,” said Ray, his voice low as if he worried that the monster muskellunge might hear him, “and I can tell you there is nothing feminine about that creature. Trust me, sweetie pie, when you see a fish that can eat you alive . . . Well, she is Buster to me.”
The boys’ eyes were big and Mason’s jaw had dropped. Ray had them in thrall. Osborne had seen the legendary muskie himself, lost two crankbaits to her, and he had to admit that Ray was not exaggerating.
“Gear-wise,” said Ray, “we’ll be using eight-foot rods that I’ve fitted with new, quality reels that have excellent anti-reverse. You can thank our sponsor for those. I’ve fitted our rods with the new super lines, the ones with hundred-pound stretch and fluorocarbon leaders. None of these fifty-cent wire leaders for us. These new ones cost a lot more but they disappear in the water.”
“They do?” asked Ryan. “That’s cool, but how do you know the fish can’t see ’em?”
“I trust experience and the fact that I can’t see them. Since interviews with fish are rare, you’ll just have to take my word for it. More questions, guys?”
The boys and Mason were quiet. “All righty, then,” said Ray. “First thing in the morning, we’re going to practice your figure eights. Mason, the boys know this but you might not unless your grandpa taught you. Muskies often follow your lure as you reel it in so you want to tip the rod down to pull that lure in a figure-eight motion by the side of the boat. Right, boys, you know that?” The boys nodded in agreement.
“What else do we know?” Again silence.
“Muskies love to charge the boat. That’s why you gotta stay ready to reel in as fast as you can. Now I know you may get a huge backlash casting or reeling and that’s another responsibility that Mason has. If you can’t untangle a nasty bird’s nest that’ll be her job. Sorry, Mason.”
Ray got a happy grin in return.
“All right, you razzbonyas. Get outta here. See you at five in the A.M. Doc, can you wait a minute? Need to talk to you.”
“I am not worried about Mason if that’s what you need to know,” said Osborne as the two college boys climbed into their Toyota pickup and threw the little truck into a rapid reverse.
Watching them drive off, Ray shook his head. “Ah, those were the days. Seriously, Doc, I saw something out back of Buddy’s Place that Chief Ferris needs to know about. She wasn’t there when I had to leave so I told Bruce what I found but those two guys were so busy, I worry they’ll forget to tell her. Is she staying at your place tonight? I’ll walk over if she is. I took a photo of it.”
“What are we talking about?” asked Osborne. “I’m not sure she’ll be over tonight but I’ll certainly be talking to her.”
“Outside, back behind the trash bins, I found a deer cam up in a tree.”
“Someone feeding deer illegally?”
“No. It was trained on that back entrance to the building. And it’s wireless. Can’t tell who it belongs to but somebody somewhere has been watching people coming and going back there. Strikes me as odd. Don’t you think?”
“She told me you were finding plenty of footprints out there.”
“Yeah, that ground is still soggy from the heavy rainfall we got two days ago. I got good shots of those. Bruce was happy with the photos, too. He thought the footprints outside looked like a match to the ones on that worktable and they are clear enough the guys in the crime lab should be able to tell what type of shoe including the brand and size.
“Let’s just hope they aren’t a Nike sneaker size twelve like every kid in America is wearing. So, yeah, Doc, I was able to track the footprints right up to where whoever it is got into a four-wheeler of some kind.
“But here’s the confusing part: that deer cam was hung up far away from the footprints. I was looking so hard at the ground and the brush back there I almost missed the damn thing.”
“Strange. And focused on the building?”
“Aimed right at that back door and, likely, the window beside it.”
“So if we find the owner of the deer cam, we might be able to see who came and went last night?”
Ray nodded. “I feel bad I didn’t take the time to remove it but there may be sign in the brush around the tree where it was hung that will help us find the owner. I took photos of the ground but I didn’t have time to check the nearby brush for sign ’cause I had these boys showing up out here. On the other hand, since it’s wireless, we can’t do anything with it until we find the owner anyway.”
“And that may take some time,” said Osborne.
“Right, but still. I wish everything didn’t always happen at once,” said Ray shaking his head in frustration. “Please, tell Chief Ferris I’ll be out there noon tomorrow while the boys are on break. I want to be sure she doesn’t let anyone near the area until I can check it out.”
“Is the area secured?” asked Osborne.
“Yes, Roger gave me a hand with that. Should be fine until I can get back out there.”
Chapter Fourteen
Back at his house after watching Mason help Ray cover the gear on the picnic table with a large tarp and anchor it with rocks from the lake, Osborne made a decision that surprised even him: a decision that came straight from his heart. Inviting Mason into his den, he pulled over a chair so she could sit beside him. Before he sat down, he reached overhead for his prized muskie rod with its old but trustworthy Abu Garcia Ambassadeur Reel.
“When Ray gives you a little time off,” said Osborne, “I want you to go ahead and see what you can do with this rod of mine. You’re going to be hearing Ray instruct those boys, so you and I may as well take advantage of that. Don’t you think?” He grinned at her. Mason looked stunned.
“It’s my favorite muskie rod and it’s got all new fishing line that I put on it this spring,” he said, laying the rod across Mason’s lap. “The line is hundred-pound test but you need to ask Ray if he can sell you one of those new leaders—the invisible ones. Tell him I’ll pay for it.”
“Grandpa, this is your best rod. Are you sure you want me—”
“I do and here’s why. Being around Ray these next few days gives you a chance to learn a lot, too. But all the advice in the world doesn’t help if you don’t have good tools with which to practice. So I want you to take this rod and reel and practice casting off the dock. When the tournament is over, I’ll take you out in the boat. We’ll go for one of those suspended mothers Ray keeps talking about. Sound good?”
“Can I use your surface mudpuppy, too?” Osborne was pleased to see that Mason’s look of surprise had morphed into one of intense concentration.
“Don’t you think that the Rizzo Tail might work better?”
“No, Grandpa, I know that mudpuppy is your favorite so I’d like to use that if you don’t mind. I promise not to lose it.” Osborne suppressed a grin. He didn’t mention that Ralph’s Sporting Goods kept a stash of surface mudpuppies just for him. He was notorious for losing way too many lures over the years.
Mason got to her feet and carefully set the rod and reel back up on the rack where Osborne kept it. “Gramps, I’m hungry. What’s dinner?”
• • •
After Osborne and Mason had polished off a couple of bratwursts that he found in the freezer along with some potato salad from the Loon Lake Market, Osborne’s cell phone rang.
“Homicide,” said Lew the second he answered. “No doubt about it, Doc. I’m still out here with Bruce and Rich. Bruce tried to get fingerprints off the downstairs lever that raises and lowers the piano but someone has wiped it clean. He could even tell the cleaning agent that was used. We figure that whoever went to all that trouble had to have been smart enough to wear gloves, too. Pretty slim likelihood the Wausau boys can get fingerprints worth anything.”
“So Bruce is of the opinion there was a deliberate cleaning?”
“Yes and, Doc, he and I agree that while we may not have any concrete ev
idence to go on at this time common sense points to a double homicide. This was no accident.”
“Based on what I saw out there, Lew, I agree,” said Osborne. “One more—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Lew interrupted, saying, “Bruce is planning to dismantle the mechanism and send it to the lab. They have access to a new technology that can pick up prints even after a wipe-down but that’ll take time.
“Funny, but no one is more surprised than Joyce Harmon. She was expecting her prints to be all over the damn lever.”
“I’ll bet she was but, say, Lew, before you get off the phone Ray wanted me to be sure to tell you that he found a wireless deer cam up in one of the trees out behind the building. He came across it just as he was leaving. He feels bad that he wasn’t able to take more time exploring back there. He said you hadn’t gotten back before he had to leave.”
“No, I made the mistake of stopping by the department after we left Irene Niedermeier’s. Bruce did mention something but he was so involved getting the piano lowered and those corpses examined and body-bagged, he didn’t give me the details.”
After Osborne filled her in on what Ray had told him, Lew was quiet. “Hmm, I wonder why anyone would do that? Maybe Chet thought he had someone stealing from the till after hours?”
“Ray said the deer cam is up in the tree if you want to check it out,” said Osborne. “He and Roger taped off the area around the tree and nearby brush to be sure no one messes up any evidence of movement around there.”
“No, I’ll let that wait until morning. We might miss something in the dark. But I called to see if you can meet me in my office first thing tomorrow? I’ve arranged for our three fraud victims—you know the upstanding citizens I’m referring to—to meet us at nine. I would love for you to sit in on that interrogation. I believe it behooves having a man hear what they have to say.”
“Of course I will be there. Mason will be busy helping Ray and his fishing team so I don’t have to worry about her. Plus I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“Lewellyn, why is your life so much more interesting than mine?”
She chuckled. “I doubt you would feel that way if you saw the paperwork I have yet to tackle tonight. Oh, and I’m hoping we can meet with the woman who has been working with Tiffany. Nina Krezminski is her name. Roger and I have been calling her cell number but no answer, yet. I hope to schedule her interrogation right after the men’s.”
• • •
The next morning Osborne didn’t have a chance to wake Mason, who was sleeping in the downstairs bedroom that had been her mother’s when she was growing up. The smartphone she’d been given for her birthday had an alarm feature, which she must have used because it was four fifteen A.M. when Mike jumped off his dog bed and ran, tail wagging, to the kitchen.
“Oh, hi, Gramps. I didn’t want to wake you up.” She was in the midst of plunging a spoon into a bowl of dry cereal. A glass of orange juice and a peeled banana indicated she had her breakfast well under control. “You can go back to bed,” she said with a gentle smile.
“No,” said Osborne, “I’ll pull on my clothes and walk you over.”
Within five minutes, Mason was ready to go.
“And you have your phone, right, young lady? Your mother insists you keep that phone with you every minute.”
Mason patted the left back pocket of her jean shorts. “Right here, Grandpa. I got my backpack, too.” She held up a bright blue backpack. “Got my new waders and my hat in here.”
And with that they walked out the back door, across the yard to the driveway, and through a stand of balsams (one of Osborne’s late wife’s failed efforts to hide the presence of Ray’s trailer home from her guests). After ducking through branches, Osborne tried to keep up with Mason as she ran down the two-lane dirt drive to Ray’s.
“Hey, look, I’m the first one here.” Standing in the clearing in front of the neon green muskie, the clearing empty except for Ray’s battered blue pickup, she beamed up at her grandfather, her eyes sparkling in the faint haze of the early morning sun.
Ray opened his screen door and beckoned her inside. With a quick wave to Osborne, she disappeared.
• • •
It was just after seven when he finished his coffee at McDonald’s and, having dodged too many questions about the peculiarities he had witnessed at Buddy’s Place, Osborne decided to head over to Lew’s office to see if she might be in early.
His hunch was right. She was at her desk, eyes focused on her computer screen and fingers moving rapidly. “Morning, Doc. Grab a cup of coffee,” she said without looking up. “Almost finished here.” A ring on her desk phone forced her to stop what she was doing and answer.
“Yes, Joyce, what is it? You are kidding. How long ago? Yes, please, give me the address.” Lew scribbled something on one of the sticky notes she kept by the phone. “I’ll check it out right now.” Setting the phone down, she got to her feet. “Grab one of those paper cups and bring your coffee with you, Doc. Joyce said that woman is skipping town.”
“What woman?”
“Nina Krezminski, Tiffany Niedermeier’s sidekick. She was just at the club. She tried to make Joyce open up so she could grab some clothes and makeup. Joyce refused. Told her the club is off-limits by order of law enforcement. Then this Nina person let go with enough expletives that Joyce doesn’t trust her.”
Within ten minutes, Lew’s cruiser was turning down a sloping drive toward a shabby apartment building built years ago to resemble a Swiss chalet. If it resembled anything today, it was not Swiss and not a chalet but a wood frame structure with doors in need of paint and sagging, weed-filled window boxes. One of the doors stood open as a woman in jeans and a blue-striped T-shirt hurried out with a box she shoved into the trunk of an older model Honda Civic.
“Nina Krezminski?” Lew called as she got out of the cruiser.
The woman stopped and stared, shoulders sagging. “Why?”
“Chief Lewellyn Ferris of the Loon Lake Police,” said Lew, walking toward her. “I thought we had a meeting later this morning.”
“So? I’ll be there.”
“Looks to me like you’re going somewhere.”
“I have a job interview this afternoon. Going back to the cities.”
“Not until we talk you aren’t. If you try to leave I’ll put you under arrest for leaving the scene of a crime.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Where were you Tuesday night?”
“Working at Buddy’s Place until one in the morning like I was supposed to. Then I came home.”
“That’s what you say. I have no reason to believe that. Is there someone who can vouch they saw you there that late?”
A stupefied expression crossed the woman’s face. She looked all around her as if she might find a better answer in the parking lot.
Meanwhile Osborne got out of the cruiser but stood next to it waiting in case Lew wanted him to block the car. He wasn’t sure that would be a good idea but he was game.
“If you’re in such a rush, why don’t we talk now?”
“Here?”
“Back in your apartment. Dr. Osborne is one of my deputies and I’ll have him make a quick call to let dispatch know we’ll be a few minutes late for my nine o’clock. Doc, will you bring that tape recorder that’s on the back seat, please?”
“Well, look at this,” said Lew, walking through the front room of the small apartment, which appeared to be furnished by the building’s owners. “You do have everything packed up, don’t you?”
Without waiting for an answer, Lew pulled out a small wooden chair fronting a table large enough for two. “If you’ll sit across from me, Ms. Krezminski, this will work fine.”
While she set up the tape recorder, Osborne pulled an armchair close enough to the table so any comment or question he might make would register on the tape recorder. Then he took a minute to look around.
A sofa bed messy with sheets and blankets anchore
d the opposite wall and across from them was a small kitchenette. The apartment reeked of cigarette smoke so badly that Osborne walked over to crack open a window.
Nina Krezminski was a bird-boned woman with reddish-blonde bangs nearly covering her eyes. Her face, overtanned and heavily freckled, reminded Osborne of a wizened monkey. As Osborne returned to his chair, she dropped her head to look up at him from below the bangs. It was a coy, entreating look from eyes fringed with lashes so thick he wondered if Nina could see through them. Later Lew would assure him the lashes were fake.
“Until yesterday, you have been working with Tiffany Niedermeier at Buddy’s Place on the north end of the town of Loon Lake, correct?”
“Yes.” Her voice, tinged with a Southern drawl, was redolent of cigarettes, Scotch whiskey, and late nights.
“You both worked for Chet Wright, the owner, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Please describe for me the nature of your work for Mr. Wright.”
“We . . . um . . . assisted the customers. We provided drinks and . . . um . . . entertainment.”
“So you bartended and danced?”
“I bartended, well kind of. I served drinks. Tiffany danced. I don’t dance.”
“What were your wages?”
The woman hesitated. She dropped her eyes and peered through her bangs. “Twenty-five an hour.”
“Ms. Krezminski,” said Lew in an even tone, “I suggest you drop the innocent routine and give me honest answers. I happen to know that whatever the club reported to the IRS, you could in fact make fifteen hundred a night. Am I not correct?”
There was a long pause while Nina looked Lew up and down. “If I say yes, should I assume next you’ll want pictures?” The Southern accent was gone, voice snide.
“No, your clients plan to show me those,” said Lew. “I don’t need details either. But what I do want to know is how the credit card scheme worked. What was your role in that? What was Tiffany’s? What did Chet—”
“Okay, okay.” Nina started to sob, though her heaving sounded fake to Osborne. “I had to do it. I had to. I had to. She m-m-ade me.”
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