“Brought back memories of that night Mom died, I’ll bet,” she said of the evening Mary Lee’s bronchitis had turned deadly and Osborne, with the help of Ray Pradt (in spite of Mary Lee’s longstanding animosity toward him), rushed her to the hospital in the midst of a howling blizzard.
“No, Erin, this was worse, much worse.”
Still stricken by the thought of possibly losing his granddaughter, Osborne couldn’t say more. What he was thinking, though, was the loss of Mary Lee, who had lived her life exactly as she wanted it, did not compare to losing a child as precious as Mason, a young girl with all life’s wonders ahead of her. Nope, no comparison.
“You need to know, Dad, this could just as easily have happened to me and Mark. You told me yourself once: the minute you give birth to a child you take the risk of something awful happening.”
“But if I hadn’t been out fly-fishing . . .”
“Dad,” said Erin in a warning tone, “do not go there. Mason was determined to go after that fish whether you were home or not. I know my child and once she makes her mind up . . . stay out of her way.”
Osborne managed a slight grin. “You’re making me feel better, kiddo.”
“Good.” Erin unwrapped her arms from around him and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs to sit down.
“Oh and, Dad, Mark asked me if there are any significant developments on those homicides out at Buddy’s Place? He won’t be back in the office until tomorrow and he’s been hoping not to call in during Cody’s soccer tournament. You know how that goes—one phone call and he’s back as the DA instead of soccer dad.”
“Significant? Not that I am aware. As of late yesterday, Bruce had no results back from his techs at the crime lab yet. The crime lab pathologists have the two autopsies underway. Meanwhile, among other pieces of evidence, Bruce is waiting on a footprint analysis, which may prove critical to identifying a suspect. Also, Ray found a wireless deer cam with a hazy image that Bruce is hoping the crime lab’s digital equipment can sharpen.
“I am sure Lew will know more later today, but we were both up all night so she was hoping to catch some sleep this morning. But one interesting fact did surface during an interrogation of the three members of the Deer Creek Preserve who say they were victims of credit card fraud out at the club.
“One of the three, a man named Bert Bronk, alleges Karen Wright is the beneficiary of a five-million-dollar life insurance policy in the event of Chet’s death. Lew has asked me to help her check that out later today.”
Erin stared at her father. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Maybe too much?”
“Oh, c’mon, Dad, I cannot imagine Karen being involved in anything remotely like what that question implies. Keep in mind she is only two years older than me and we’ve known each other since grade school.
“And, Dad, Karen’s a good egg, always has been.”
“Do you run into her often?” asked Osborne.
“Yes, I mean I used to. Up until recently she had been golfing with a bunch of us on Ladies Day at the country club but now that I think of it, she hasn’t been there at all this spring.
“The few times I’ve run into her lately, she has seemed pretty . . . subdued.” Erin paused for a moment, then said, “That’s a good way to put it: subdued. But, Dad, really. If I had to describe Karen Wright in one word? Genuine. She is a genuine, good person.”
If only that counted, thought Osborne.
“And I’m not saying good people don’t do bad things but Karen has always come across as goodhearted. And brave. Remember how she might have been killed herself when she saved that little boy’s life?”
“When was that, Erin? About twenty-five years ago? I remember it was over a school holiday of some kind.”
“Washington’s Birthday. You and Mom were away at a dental convention and we had a babysitter, which is why I remember it so well. That’s because our babysitter was old Mrs. Schultz and I remember thinking at the time there was no way she could have rescued us like Karen did the Smith kid.”
“Was it a house fire?”
“An explosion and a fire. Karen’s family lived right next door to the Smiths. They had a ton of kids and Fred was the youngest. I think he was maybe four years old. He was home all by himself in an upstairs bedroom when a gas leak somewhere in the house caused an explosion that blew out the kitchen windows before the kitchen caught fire.
“Karen was outside and saw it happen. She ran into the house, up the stairs, and grabbed the little kid but when she turned to go down the entire stairwell was in flames. She was able to climb out an upstairs window and sat on the roof or something with little Fred.
“People who were watching said later that the firemen rescued them just in time, like a few seconds before the whole house caught fire.”
“Boy, I’d forgotten about that,” said Osborne. “So that was the Smith family was it?”
“Yeah. The little boy? That’s Fred Smith. He’s still around somewhere. Quite the odd bird, too. I heard from my friend Denise, who used to teach at the middle school, that back in the day he tested off the charts for the gifted program but he was socially inept—a total misfit. Karen has always impressed me that she’s been so kind to the guy all these years.”
Erin checked her watch. “Dad, I hate to wake Mason right now. She’s out cold.”
“Please don’t. She’ll be heartbroken if she can’t finish her job helping Ray. She’s due to help tonight at eight when he and the two boys get back from their day of fishing. Then the tournament winds up tomorrow morning at ten. I think she should stay one more night here with me.”
“But if you have to meet with Chief Ferris soon why don’t I wait here until she wakes up, run her home for dinner, and have her back in time for Ray and the boys. Sound good?”
“That works. Thanks for the background on Karen—I’d forgotten all that.”
• • •
At three that afternoon, and feeling better than earlier that day, Osborne sat down with Bruce and Lew in her office. Bruce led off the meeting.
“I have bad news and good news. The best the guys can do with the video from the deer cam is that you’re seeing a partial view of an individual who appears to be five feet seven inches tall. Not enough for an estimate on weight or if the image is male or female. Sorry.
“As far as the clothing goes, not much help either except that it was dark. Not camouflage either, just dark clothing. The other disappointing news is that we can’t get more prints off the lever that hoisted the piano. Not yet anyway. There is some new technology over in Europe that might help but it’s going to take time for those results.”
“But you do have good news?” asked Lew hopefully.
“Yes, the footprints have come through loud and clear. They confirmed what I predicted: You are looking for someone who was wearing a pair of Vasque hiking boots, men’s size ten.”
Bruce sat back with a happy grin. “Pretty good on that, huh?”
“At least it isn’t a Nike sneaker,” said Lew. “Everyone in Loon Lake owns a pair of those.”
“Otherwise, Chief, Rich and I are finishing up at Buddy’s Place. Ray Pradt did another pass outdoors and said he didn’t find anything other than signs indicating there had been a four-wheeler or golf cart pulled up behind the club in recent days. Could be the individual seen on the deer cam video. Ray did say he got good photos of tracks around the building, too.
“As far as evidence gathering, we’ve done it. We’ll catch a bite to eat at the Loon Lake Pub and head home. Sound good?”
“Thanks, Bruce,” said Lew. “You just gave me a good reason to make a surprise visit to the grieving widow.”
“The one I hear is going to be worth five million?”
“Now, where did you hear that?” asked Lew, exasperated. “I haven’t said a word to anyone.”
“That one fellow who’s a member of the Deer Creek Preserve, the big one, Bert. He sat at a table by Rich and me this morning w
hile we were having breakfast at the motel. He’s got a voice so loud no one in the breakfast room could miss hearing every word.
“Fellow was pretty vocal on the life insurance. You think that news hasn’t gotten around town?”
Lew looked over at Osborne. “If you aren’t too tired, old man, I think we need to stop by Karen’s house and let her know that as the sole proprietor of Buddy’s Place now, she needs to be sure it’s locked up—and she needs my approval before she can do that.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
During the drive out to the Wright home Osborne asked, “Lewellyn, what is the real reason for our surprise visit this afternoon? You could have made a phone call to let Karen know the club was ready to be locked up.”
“True, but the real reason is I’m debating when to tell her we’re convinced that her husband and Tiffany were murdered. Until I do that, I’d like her to assume we’re still considering the possibility that her husband was killed in a tragic, unexpected accident.”
“But why not tell her what is obvious to us and to the Wausau boys? She’ll find out soon enough if she doesn’t know already.”
“I could be wrong, but my thinking is that if I don’t make her feel like she’s a prime suspect, she’s likely to be more open, even helpful.”
“Ah,” said Osborne, “good point. I would add that there is something to be said about observing a person in her own environment. You can learn a lot about someone when you see how they live, what’s important to them.”
“Like you enjoying hours on your dock in the moonlight—”
“Or you carving little wooden eagles and owls for your grandchildren.
“We are two very different people, aren’t we, Chief Ferris?” teased Osborne. He turned away to gaze out the car window as he said with a mock sigh, “I guess that’s why we’ll never marry.”
“Now who said that,” Lew answered with a grin. “Don’t you know it’s the suspense that keeps us together?
“Oops, we are almost there, Doc. Just so you know I do not want to bring up the life insurance right away. See if she brings it up instead.”
“Good point. Meantime, after what I saw yesterday, I’d like to know more about her relationship with Dr. Pete Kretzler,” said Osborne. “I find that curious.”
Lew pulled into the circle driveway and parked alongside a dark green Range Rover. Osborne followed her up the granite steps that led to the front door of Karen Wright’s home. The door swung open before they could even knock.
Karen stood in the doorway, surprise on her face. “Oh, gosh, you startled me. I just walked in and heard someone coming up the stairs. Did you call to say you were coming? My phone has been off all afternoon. I was in the middle of a photo shoot for the class I’m teaching. So I’m sorry if—”
“No messages,” said Lew. “Dr. Osborne and I need to talk with you about several new developments in our investigation and that is always easier in person. I was hoping we could catch you at home.”
“Well, you have,” said Karen, opening the door wider and motioning for them to enter. “Chief Ferris, Dr. Osborne, please come in but excuse me while I get out of these boots of mine. I don’t want to track swamp mud everywhere.”
She walked over to an oak bench against one wall in the large foyer and sat down to pull off what appeared to be hiking boots clogged with dried mud along with two pairs of crew socks before slipping on a pair of moccasins. Even though the day was quite warm, she was in jeans and a black sweatshirt.
“Sorry if I look a mess but I dress to avoid mosquitoes and black flies. The heron rookery may be lovely to look at but it is treacherous to walk through: you can get eaten alive or drown in a pothole of muck. Have either of you been there? It is a beautiful spot.”
“I don’t know that I’ve heard of it,” said Osborne.
“Me neither,” said Lew. “Where is it exactly?”
“Ah, it’s one of the best kept secrets of Deer Creek,” said Karen. “Fred showed it to me earlier this spring. He thought it would be a good subject for my outdoor photography class and he was right. I have been able to shoot a family of great blue herons from when the eggs were laid to the chicks hatching. Can you believe it?”
Karen gave them a soft smile as she beckoned them down a hallway to her kitchen. “Coffee? Tea, or a soft drink?”
“Not for me, I’m fine,” said Lew.
“Me neither but thank you,” said Osborne as he climbed onto one of the tall stools surrounding a butcher-block island in the center of the kitchen. “Did you say it was Fred Smith who showed you the heron rookery?”
“Yes. Right after he took over running maintenance for Deer Creek, he stumbled onto the rookery when he was searching for mushrooms. Fred loves wild mushrooms,” said Karen with another smile. “Me? I’m terrified of ’em.
“But that’s how he found the rookery and since then he and Ty Wallis have managed to restrict any hunting around that area, thank goodness.”
While she was talking, Karen had poured herself a large glass of water and now sat down across from Lew and Osborne, elbows on the butcher-block surface as she rested her chin in one hand, features relaxed. Osborne could see she had gotten some good sun that day.
“You said you’re here with news about the accident?” she asked Lew.
“Yes and to let you know that your husband’s remains will be released to the funeral home sometime tomorrow. But Dr. Osborne and I have questions for you on other aspects of the tragedy.
“I hope this isn’t a bad time to talk, Karen. We realize you’ve had quite a shock, a lot to deal with. Also, because there hasn’t been a legal ruling on whether your husband’s death is the result of an accident or foul play, I will be tape-recording our conversation. Dr. Osborne and I may also take notes. I hope that doesn’t bother you too much.”
While she was talking, Lew set the tape recorder on the counter between them and pulled her notebook from her back pocket.
“Heavens, no. Whatever you need to do is fine. I understand this is official so, please, go right ahead. But you’re right, the last forty-eight hours have been . . . difficult.”
Karen raised her eyebrows as she gazed down at the butcher-block pattern in front of her. “I’ll tell you what makes it hard is not having any close family members around like most people do when there’s an unexpected death.
“Chet’s folks are gone, my folks are gone, I was an only child and then Chet and I never had children. Of course,” she said, sounding a little brighter, “I do have Fred to help out. He’s like a brother, a little brother.”
“You saved his life years ago, didn’t you,” said Osborne sympathetically.
“Yes and we’ve been close ever since, although he used to drive Chet bonkers always being so precise and, well, ‘tight-assed,’ as Chet would say, about everything. That’s why he’s working at Deer Creek now.
“I had hired him to be our handyman here but Fred was just too much for Chet. While poor Fred thought he was keeping everything in perfect working order, Chet thought he was being a busybody. The final straw was Fred ‘tidying up’ Chet’s precious 1927 Chris-Craft powerboat when he’d been told not to go near it. I’d told him to leave it alone, too, but Freddie can be selective in what he hears.
“Been that way since he was a kid. Fred is definitely quirky,” said Karen, “but he is so creative. Suggesting I shoot the rookery was brilliant—no one applying for an MFA has a portfolio like mine.”
She got up to refill her glass. “Working at Deer Creek put just the right amount of distance between one of the people dear to me and my husband.”
“Sounds like Fred adores you,” said Lew.
“He knows how to make me feel good when I have a down day,” said Karen with an appreciative laugh.
She pushed the glass of water away as she spoke. “Be nice if he could find himself a girlfriend one of these days. He deserves more family than just me—which I keep telling him. But Fred has always been a loner.” Karen shrugged.
“Probably always will be. Some people are just like that, y’know.”
A serious look crossed her face. “He didn’t have much of a family life growing up and that can make a difference. Maybe you remember this, Dr. Osborne, but Fred was the youngest of eleven kids. They lived next door to us and, boy, that place was a mess. Junk in the yard, dogs always on the loose.
“My mom couldn’t stand how their garbage was always overflowing onto our driveway. She called the health department on them a couple times. The parents were never home. Fred’s dad worked at the mill and his mom waited tables somewhere so he was always by himself or trying to tag along after the big kids. Then there was the rumor that the mom got pregnant by another man and Fred was the result. Who knows if that was true?
“Boy, I’ll never forget the day their house blew up. It was in the afternoon and I was getting my bike out of our garage when I saw all the windows at the back of the house blow out. I could hear screaming and I knew that had to be little Freddie.
“I didn’t even think—I just ran. In the front door, up this big circular stairway that was right there and found Freddie in an upstairs bedroom. Terrified. I pushed him out the window in front of me ’cause there was kind of a shaky old sleeping porch with no screens and that’s where we were when the fire engines came. We were both lucky.”
“You were pretty darn brave for a twelve-year-old girl,” said Osborne. “Erin remembers that day.”
“There are times you don’t think, you just do what you have to do. If it had been Erin there, I’ll bet you she would have done the same,” said Karen. “She’s a good golfer, by the way.”
“Sorry to change the subject,” said Lew, interrupting, “but getting back to what we have been hoping was an accident at Buddy’s Place, I need to alert you that the forensic team from the Wausau Crime Lab finished up their work at Buddy’s Place late this afternoon. People can now enter but I am sure you will want to have someone lock up the property.”
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