“Yes, yes, I am.”
He was trying to listen but the image of Pete Kretzler embracing Karen Wright bothered him. Was it a hug of sympathy or something else? As soon as Mason was finished with her lunch, he would call Lew.
“. . . so my plan is to keep calling her Buster. Real loud. She’s a girl, right? What girl wants to be called Buster? If I make her mad, maybe she’ll come at me. Like Ray says—the big ones like to charge the boat. So if she comes at me, then maybe I can catch her ’cause I got your rod and reel. So I’ll keep going ‘Buster, Buster, Buster.’” She swung her spoon in the air and Osborne ducked the flying soup.
“Mason, sweetheart, please stop jumping up and down on your chair. Now, what are you doing this afternoon because I have to go back to town to help Chief Ferris? I’ll be back by five and we’ll have an early supper.”
“Ray gave me a list of lures and other stuff he wants me to clean and put away while he and the boys are out fishing. You don’t need to make me dinner, Gramps. Ray said he’s got some fresh walleye he’s going to sauté up for us with little red potatoes.”
“No, honey,” said Osborne, “I was going to bake that chicken recipe you love . . .” The look on Mason’s face told Osborne his special chicken was not her meal of choice. Or was it that she preferred the company of one tall, bearded fishing guide and two college boys? Silly me, thought her grandfather. He knew the answer to that.
“Oh say, Gramps, I almost forgot. Ray wants you to give him a call. Like right away.”
“Oh?” Osborne shoved his chair back and reached for the cordless phone hanging on his kitchen wall. He punched in the number for Ray’s cell. “Mason, honey, I wish you’d told me earlier,” he was saying as Ray answered.
“Yo, Doc,” said Ray, “I’m out here at Buddy’s Place for the next half hour or so. I got that deer cam down from the tree and been checking for more sign between the club and the preserve but haven’t found anything. Not sure what to do about this wireless deer cam. Like how to find the owner?”
“Have you talked to Lew about it?”
“Not yet. They said she’d call me later. I’ll be heading back to my place in a few minutes so how ’bout I drop it off and let you take it in?”
“Fine. Lew’s expecting me so that works.”
“How’s Mason doing? We kept her busy this morning. Is she okay with everything?”
“Seems pretty darn happy to me. I could barely get her to settle down and eat lunch. She said you’re okay with her using a kayak? I didn’t know you have one.”
“It’s a loaner. One of these CarbonLite boats, a new model this company wants me to test for fishing. She can’t hurt the darn thing, Doc, and I can see she’s dying to go after Buster.” Ray laughed. “Be amazing if she gets a rise from that fish.”
“Jeez, I hope not. That would scare her to death. Now, Ray, is the kayak safe for an eleven-year-old?”
“She can swim, can’t she?”
“Yes, but—”
“She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she takes a life jacket if she goes. Hold on a minute, Doc, Bruce is texting me.”
Seconds later, Ray said, “He said to ask you and Chief Ferris if you got time for some fly-fishing tonight. He has to be back in Wausau in the morning and he figures to finish up here at Buddy’s Place by dinnertime.”
“Tell him I’ll check with Lew and get back to him.”
“Okay and, Doc, I’ll be sure Mason’s home by nine.”
Osborne washed the lunch dishes, fed the dog, and corralled Mason to walk down to the dock with him for his usual noontime check of baby ducklings. Minus two. Hmm, the muskies were feeding. Mason was stricken at the thought of the two babies eaten by the shark of the north. “I know, hon,” said her grandfather, “but it’s nature’s way. Nothing we can do about it.”
He was back up in the kitchen just in time to see Ray’s pickup pull into Osborne’s driveway. Ray hopped out, put a box holding the deer cam on the back seat of Osborne’s car, and gave a wave toward the kitchen window as he drove off.
“Mason?” Osborne called after his granddaughter as he headed out the back door to his car, “I’m heading back to town to work with Chief Ferris. Now don’t forget to take your phone with you today. Have you got it?” He paused, waiting for a response. “Mason? Did you hear me?”
“Yes, Grandpa. I never forget,” she called back. “Don’t you forget yours either.”
“Got it,” said Osborne. “Thanks for the reminder.” He smiled, patting Mike on the head as he walked by. “Take good care of her, fella.”
• • •
Osborne laid the deer cam on Lew’s desk. She stared at it. “I have no idea how to find out who owns or runs this thing . . .” She picked up her phone and hit the number for Dani’s extension. “I’m putting her on speaker, Doc.
“Question, Dani. I have a deer cam here that’s wireless. Ray found it up in a tree out at the crime scene at Buddy’s Place. Do you think there’s a way we can find out who the owner is? Even if it’s just Chet Wright, I need to know.”
“Should be easy,” said Dani. “I’ll be right over to your office with my laptop.”
Five minutes after walking in, she was able to access the deer cam’s hard drive through information provided by the manufacturer. It was registered to an owner whose e-mail started with jharmon.
“That is as much as I can find,” said Dani. “I need the owner’s security code to access the video itself,” she said.
Lew looked over at Osborne, who was watching over Dani’s shoulder. “That has to be Joyce Harmon. Let’s go, Doc. Why on earth would she be watching people coming and going through the back door of Buddy’s Place?”
• • •
“I was watching me.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lew with a quick glance at Osborne. They’d found Joyce looking as unkempt as ever and busy mopping the floor in the dining room kitchen of the preserve.
“Sorry, Joyce, but would you put that mop down for a minute? Dr. Osborne and I need to talk to you.” Lew pointed her to the empty dining room where she had set the deer cam on the table.
Startled at the sight of the unit, Joyce had said, “This has nothing to do with what happened at the club if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know what to think until you tell us why you put this camera up in the tree.”
Joyce looked so miserable Osborne felt sorry for her. “Does this have something to do with critters like squirrels or raccoons getting into the club?” he asked, hoping he was right.
“Nah. It’s just me.” Joyce laced her fingers together and set her hands on the table, shoulders slumping, as if she was about to confess a terrible crime. “Fred hates me. He wants Mr. Wallis to fire me. He says I’m a mess even if I do everything I’m s’posed to. I think he’s OCD, but I don’t tell him that. Seriously, I’m the one keeps everything spic and span and all he can do is unplug a goddamn toilet. But I was late one day—just one day—and ever since then he’s been accusing me of not getting here on time.”
“I heard him question you on that yesterday morning,” said Lew.
“See, thing is Mr. Wallis hired me before he hired Fred. And . . .” She paused before saying more. “Well, thing is he hired me in spite of the fact I have a felony on my record.”
“A felony? That’s serious,” said Lew. “What kind of felony?”
“Ten years ago, I took some money from a convenience store where I was a clerk. I shouldna done it. I paid it back but with that on my record,” Joyce raised sad eyes, “I can’t get a job. If I lose this job . . .
“I come to work through that back door, so I put up the deer cam to prove to Fred that I am on time. Every day, I am on time or early. Sounds crazy but it’s the only way I can protect myself ’cause I’m the only person here in the morning.”
“Joyce,” said Osborne, “was this camera operating Monday night?”
He threw a quick look at Lew. “Because you might h
ave video of whoever it was that came in that night. Have you watched it recently?”
“No. I’ve only watched it once to be sure it was working. I figure it’s something I can make Fred watch next time he tries to say I was late.”
“Okay, Joyce. How do we watch it?” asked Lew with excitement in her voice. “Can we plug it in here somewhere?”
“No. You have to watch at my house on this laptop I got,” said Joyce. “I guess you want to go there?”
• • •
Joyce lived in a small wood frame house tucked behind the paper mill. While Lew paced back and forth in the tiny living room, Joyce set the receiver for the deer cam on her kitchen table. “Okay, it’s on,” she said. “Since it’s motion-activated something should come up right away.”
She was right but the first images were disappointing: Ray Pradt. Once they got past the video of Ray discovering and staring into the deer cam, they waited. A digital date and time in one corner of the screen came on: four A.M. on Tuesday morning.
The camera was focused on the door with a corner of the window visible. As they watched, in the far right corner of the screen was a figure in dark clothing that appeared to be approaching the window at the back of the club. Over the next few minutes, all they could make out was the figure entering the open window, then backing out and disappearing off to the right. Whoever it was never faced the camera.
Lew had Joyce run the sequence back and forth half a dozen times before giving up. “So we got something but not enough,” she said, muttering to herself.
“Okay, I want Bruce to see this. Maybe the Wausau boys can figure out height or some other distinguishing characteristics here. Maybe they’ve got a way to clarify the image. They do wonders with security cameras these days. Even if all they can tell us is whether or not that figure is a man or a woman—that would help.
“Joyce, I need to take your deer cam, your laptop, and the receiver with us. And I need your security code. Sorry about that, but this is evidence from the crime scene.”
“Go right ahead,” said Joyce.
“I have a question, Joyce,” said Osborne while helping Lew pack up the equipment. “Why is Fred so set on firing you? Is it something you did here? Maybe this isn’t a fair question, but I don’t understand.”
“I haven’t done anything, except you know how really well dressed he is? I bet you he irons his underpants. He tells me all the time I’m a slob. I think he wants someone kind of perfect like him. But, for Chrissake, I move garbage and trash all day. I clean toilets, I—plus he’s just weird. What can I say? Sometimes people just don’t like you and vice versa. I got an uncle I can’t be around, y’know. I know Fred does everything Mr. Wallis needs him to do, but I’m not going to let him ruin my life.”
A glint entered her eye. “I’ll tell you something though. Much as he hates me, that Tiffany couldn’t stand him. She gave him a hard time even though he made me do lots of extra stuff for her.”
“Like what extra stuff?” asked Lew.
“Clean towels, clean her rooms at the lodge, which I am not supposed to do. Fix snacks and candies for her dressing table. She was such a pig, too. Dirty Kleenex, used condoms, I always had to clean up after her in ways I shouldn’t have to. Nina doesn’t leave crap around like that. Mr. Wright was pretty decent, too.”
“What about Karen Wright?” asked Lew.
“What about her?”
“Was she ever at Buddy’s Place?”
“Oh sure, lots of times. She’s been working on something with Fred. Not sure what but she comes by in that golf cart of his and they go somewhere. I have no idea where. Hey, are those two brother and sister?”
“What makes you say that?” asked Osborne, taken aback.
“They’re so nice to each other. Like they take care of each other. I dunno, maybe I’m wrong.”
“Didn’t Karen mention they grew up next door to each other?” asked Lew.
“That’s right. I forgot about that,” said Osborne.
“Whatever,” said Joyce with a shrug. “She treats him like he’s her baby brother.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Was there anyone to whom Tiffany was not unpleasant?” asked Osborne as they walked into Lew’s office, where Bruce was waiting for them in one of the chairs in front of Lew’s desk.
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question, Doc,” said Lew, sitting down at her desk and reaching for the files that Bruce was handing to her.
She had started to look at the documents when Bruce distracted her, saying in a petulant voice, “Hey, people, about time you got here. How are we going to get work done and still have time with the fly rod if you don’t move it and shake it?”
“Oh-h-h, I forgot,” said Osborne. “You two will have to go yourselves. I need to get back for Mason.”
“You do?” Lew gave him a look of surprise. “I thought you told me she works for Ray until nine or something like that.”
“That’s true,” said Osborne. “And she did tell me Ray was sautéing walleye for her and the boys tonight. So, yeah, I guess I can go.”
“Excellent,” said Bruce with a leap of his eyebrows.
“So we have cause of death, do we?” asked Lew, looking up from one document she was holding.
“Yes. Asphyxiation. Both victims. They were crushed up against that twelve-foot-high ceiling. The autopsy tests showed levels of intoxication so high we doubt they heard a thing as that motorized piano hoist raised the two of them up. Drug tests aren’t back yet but I won’t be surprised if we don’t have evidence of controlled substances too.”
“Great. This data is official, Doc. You can enter it on the death certificates. What about those footprints, Bruce. Any news on those?” asked Lew.
“Yes, indeed. Vasque hiking boots, men’s size ten. Sold at Ralph’s Sporting Goods, Cabela’s, and Fleet Farm. A little too popular if you ask me. Might be tough to find the right pair as plenty of serious outdoors folk buy those.”
“Hey, it’s a start,” said Lew. “Better than nothing. Answers one question anyway. If it’s a man’s boot then we have to be looking for a male suspect. Wouldn’t you say?”
“True, and the boots do have a very visible wear pattern, so if you have a suspect and that suspect owns Vasque hiking boots, the guys at the lab will have a good shot at matching the boots to the prints left on the workbench. Boots don’t match? You might have the wrong guy. How’s that for a day’s work?”
Bruce jumped up from his chair. “Let’s go throw a few lines, hey.”
“Not so fast,” said Lew, motioning for him to take his seat again. “We found the owner of that wireless deer cam that was hung up in a tree back by those garbage bins. Doc, will you please unpack the units? Let’s put them on the table over by the windows.”
Carrying the cardboard box holding Joyce’s deer cam and its receiver, Osborne set the devices on the table and moved out of the way so Bruce could examine them.
“Whoa, a GSM Drone Remote Surveillance System, cool,” said Bruce, hovering over the table. “I’ve been planning to check out one of those for deer hunting. But, man, they are expensive. I know you can upload the images to your phone but, jeez, do you really need that much hi-tech baloney out in the woods?”
“Joyce Harmon did. She figured five hundred bucks was worth it to save her job,” said Lew. The three of them gathered around the low table.
“Sit tight, Bruce. I want you to view what Doc and I saw and see what you think. Doc, will you turn the receiver on, please?”
Osborne and Lew watched over Bruce’s shoulder as the image of the dark figure approaching the window appeared on the small screen.
“Can you run that again?” asked Bruce, leaning forward and intent on the small screen. “Hard to make out much, isn’t it? Frankly, looks like a bear climbing in that window.”
“Yeah, tough to see,” said Lew. “Whoever it is never turns around so we can get a good look at the face.”
Bruce was quiet, saying not
hing as he had Osborne run the video two more times. “Tell you what,” he said finally. “Let me share this with one of my guys in the lab. We might be able to get height and weight detail, which could help once you have a suspect.”
“I was hoping you might say that,” said Lew.
“But first,” said Bruce, taking over from Osborne, “let me try to e-mail this video down to the lab . . . there . . . good . . . looks like it sent fine.” He sat back saying, “Tomorrow morning before I leave town, I’ll stop back at Buddy’s Place and take some measurements out back there. That should make it easy for us to get an accurate profile of that figure.
“Can we go fishing now?”
“Bruce, Doc and I need an hour to finish up here,” said Lew. “Hold your horses, will you?”
“All right,” said Bruce grudgingly, “I’ll go pack my things. Call me when you’re ready.”
As it was, Lew didn’t finish up with her paperwork and phone calls until after seven. About the same time, Osborne was able to complete most of the information required for the death certificates. “I’m starving,” said Lew.
“Me, too,” said Osborne.
They met up with Bruce at the Loon Lake Pub for burgers and fries. Bruce compounded their unhealthy menu with a large order of cheese curds.
When everyone was satisfied, Lew said, “We’ll do the Surprise tonight. I haven’t fished that stream since last fall, plus it isn’t too far away. Bruce, you’ll have to follow us. We’ll park and walk in about half a mile.”
The drive took less than twenty minutes. They pulled into a clearing and unpacked their gear. Once everyone had their waders on and rods ready, Osborne and Bruce followed behind Lew as she tromped through a landscape of tamarack, tag alder, swamp grass, balsam, birch, and red pine.
The going wasn’t difficult, though Osborne had to duck a number of times to protect his fly rod and avoid tearing a hole in his waders. Twice Lew stopped to check her compass and be sure they weren’t lost. “Hey, it’s worth it.” She grinned back at Bruce and Osborne. “We’ll find native brook trout back here. Can’t beat it.”
“OMG, it’s a caddisfly hatch,” cried Bruce as they emerged out of the woods onto the bank of a small stream. “Man oh man, it’s a feeding frenzy.” He dropped to his knees, fingers fumbling at a small plastic container of trout flies. “What do you say, Chief? An Adams?”
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