Harbor Nights

by Rick Polad

  “Yeah, I know. So when did she leave?”

  “When the last person had left, I opened the basement door. That was about five.”

  “And she walked out with you?”

  “No. I was locking the door and talking to her. When I turned around, she was gone.”

  “Did you look for her?”

  Maxine walked back into the room and looked at the wall displays.

  Ginny shook her head. “I called her name, but she didn’t answer. I figured she didn’t want to be found, so I left.”

  “Did she say anything about what she was going to do?”

  “When we were inside, I asked where she was going. She said there was something she needed to do. I don’t remember exactly what she said, but she mentioned Grizzly.”

  I’m sure I didn’t hide my surprise. I wanted to look around and asked if I could look in the basement. She gave me the key. I asked her if she’d take Maxine up the tower and told her I’d listen for the door.

  Finding nothing unusual in the basement, I went outside and walked around the tower. I found nothing there either. As I came around to the front, a family with two kids walked into the clearing. I waited at the door, let them in, and told them the docent was giving a tour and would be down in a few minutes.

  When Ginny got down, she told the people she would be right with them and took me aside. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Should I call the police?”

  “No. If anything comes of this you may be questioned later, but for the moment let’s keep this quiet.”

  She sighed and looked relieved.

  I found Maxine on the beach, which was mostly rocks, and suggested we leave and get some food. It was almost six. I told her about my conversation with Ginny and that we were going to make a stop at Kathleen’s uncle’s place about five minutes down the road.

  “Do you think her car is still there?”

  “We’ll find out. If she was there, she’s probably gone by now.”

  The house was a two-story log cabin set back in the woods a few hundred feet. There was a No Trespassing sign at the entrance to the drive. No one was home, but Kathleen’s car was in the garage. I stuck my card in the crack between the front door and the jamb with a note to call me.

  When I got back in the car, I told Maxine what I had found.

  She looked like she had questions but didn’t ask any.

  Chapter 18

  I had planned to have dinner at the Greenwood Supper Club, a wonderful steak house in the peninsula’s interior that few tourists know about. On the weekends it’s packed with locals. They don’t take reservations, but I figured Tuesday wouldn’t be too busy.

  I told Maxine we’d stop on the way and look at the Bailey’s Harbor range lights across the street from the harbor. I explained that the purpose of range lights was to show boaters out on the lake where the center of the channel was into the harbor. In this case, there was a front red light at the top of a small, wooden tower and a rear white light in the cupola of an old building that looked like a schoolhouse. The rear light was higher than the front. Boaters had to move to a point where the two lights lined up and that would be the course they needed to follow into the harbor.

  “The range lights were lit in 1869. This was an important logging town back then and the state highway that runs through town wasn’t built until 1870. So the harbor was pretty valuable to commerce.”

  I parked at the side of the road and we walked down a wooden walkway that led through the woods to the rear building.

  I put out my hand and stopped her. I pointed off to our left where a doe was staring at us from the protection of the trees.

  “Wow,” Maxine whispered.

  The doe turned and slowly walked into the woods. We continued along the walkway.

  I pointed to a sign off to the right. “That’s a path into the Ridges Sanctuary. It’s a bog that’s a wildflower conservatory. You’ll find somewhere around twenty-five species of native orchids.”

  “Up here?”

  “Yup. Nature is amazing. You should come over sometime and walk through—it’s beautiful.”

  We checked out the building and then headed back. About halfway back to the car, Maxine said, “This would be a great spot for someone to hide.”

  I laughed. “It would, but there are many more that are better, and with room and board. The county is full of Johnsons, most of whom are relatives of Kathleen.”

  She laughed.

  ***

  We headed back into town and turned onto County Highway F toward Greenwood. On the way she asked who Grizzly was. I made a mental note about Maxine’s excellent hearing.

  “Grizzly is an old fellow up on Washington Island. He’s been there forever—must be in his eighties. He lives in a cabin with no electricity or running water. Still has an outhouse. And he’s somehow related to Kathleen—great uncle or something.”

  “Really? No electricity? In today’s world? Is he poor?”

  I chuckled. “That depends on how you measure it. He has very few possessions, but his cabin sits on one hundred ten acres. He leases out a lot of it to farmers who raise various crops. I’m guessing he’s worth millions.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “You have to get there by ferry, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m thinking an island is a bad place to hide,” she said thoughtfully. “Why narrow down the places someone has to look?”

  I had been thinking about that and had come to the same conclusion. “I agree. But there’s another piece to the puzzle. Grizzly has very few things, but one of them is a boat, and there are other islands to hide on.”

  “Can she drive a boat?”

  “Yup. But it’s more than knowing how to drive.” We followed F as it took a turn to the left. “You have to know these waters—especially up there. The county gets its name from the waters between the tip of the peninsula and Plum Island, the first island to the north. That area is called Death’s Door because of the boaters who learned the hard way.”

  Maxine commented on the scenery as we passed orchards and small farms.

  “Are you going to see Grizzly?”

  “Yup. Do you want to come?”

  “Sure. But it would have to be tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow it is.”

  I pulled into the parking lot across from Greenwood and took Maxine’s hand as we crossed the street. We got a table right away and we both ordered steaks.

  Maxine looked puzzled.

  “Something on your mind?” I asked with a smile.

  She took a deep breath. “Well, if she was going up to the island, why would she leave her car in the garage?”

  “Good question. The ferry registers cars but not people. If she didn’t want to leave a trail she wouldn’t take her car.”

  “So how would she get to the ferry?”

  “Lots of options. Any number of friends and relatives who would give her a ride to the island.”

  “Help an escaped prisoner?”

  I laughed. “Those relationships go pretty far up here. Help a friend get away from a big-city cop? I bet they’d be standing in line.”

  She laughed. “So you just have to find out who.”

  “Not even going to try. Too many possibilities. If she went to the island, it doesn’t matter how she got there.”

  I took a drink of beer and asked how the job was going. She gave me a huge smile and talked through most of the meal. She was in heaven.

  I listened to her, but didn’t respond much as I tried to sort out the pieces of the puzzle. I still didn’t have enough pieces.

  Chapter 19

  The sun had set by the time we were done, but it was still warm enough to not need a jacket. There was a heat wave coming in the next few days. Temperatures were supposed to reach 90 by Thursday. I don’t mind the heat, but I’ve never been happy about the humidity that comes with it up here. When I was a kid, we didn’t have air conditioning, and I spent many nights on the porch, in the hammoc
k, trying to catch the breeze.

  I held the door for Maxine and asked if she was willing to make one more stop.

  “Sure. Where?”

  “I’d like to stop by the frame shop.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “I’d just like to take a look in the window.”

  “Fine with me.”

  We turned left on Highway 42, headed back toward Fish Creek, and parked on the street across from Framed. The lights were out but the Open sign was still in the window. The door wasn’t locked. That seemed strange, and strange things were usually not good.

  I wished I had my gun with me, but I didn’t like carrying it around. Just too inconvenient.

  I asked Maxine to wait outside and went in.

  The place had been torn apart—just like Kathleen’s studio. I turned on the light and walked into the back room. It also was a mess. Whatever was going on was a lot bigger than Kathleen. I wondered how she was tied to it. It must have something to do with the painting.

  I pushed a broken frame out of the way with my foot and walked around the corner of the workbench. A leg was sticking out. It was attached to Edvard Gunderson. I bent down. There was no pulse and his skin was cold. His head lay in a pool of drying blood.

  I walked outside and asked a worried-looking Maxine to find a phone and tell the Ephraim police there was a body inside Framed.

  I went back in and took another look at Gunderson. The blood had come from the right side of his head. There were scratches and bruises on his face and neck. Somebody was still looking for something and they were willing to kill to get it. I looked for a murder weapon. There were several tools around, but none with blood on them. Power woodworking tools were sitting on the long table. There was a crosscut saw, a small band saw, a joiner for corners, and a small drill with a bit in the chuck. I took a few steps toward the door and then stopped and looked at the drill. Why would a framer need a drill? Partially built frames were scattered on one bench.

  There were three benches. One was bare. Another was a surprise. There were more tools on top, but these were carving knives of various sizes. There were also paints and brushes. Also on top were the objects someone had been carving—duck decoys. Several were partially carved, and one was painted. The workmanship was exquisite. I wondered if it had been carved by Gunderson or Cletis.

  Paul pulled up five minutes later with Chief Iverson right behind him. Paul went in while I waited at the door for the chief. He put on his cap as he got out of the squad car.

  The chief glanced at Maxine as he walked up. “So we meet again, Manning.”

  I just nodded.

  “Trouble still following you around?”

  I didn’t respond and started to follow him into the store.

  He put up his hand and said, “Why don’t you just wait out here? This is police business.”

  I waited.

  “What did you do to him?” Maxine asked.

  I shrugged. “Just showed up, I guess. Don’t let his gruff manner fool you—we’re really great buddies.”

  She nodded. “I could tell. Do you think your great buddy will want your help?”

  I pointed toward a bench in front of the store and we sat down. “I’m guessing that’s the last thing he’d want.”

  A crowd had started to gather across the street.

  “Good guess,” Max said. “Do you think your friend is involved in this?”

  I shook my head. “She must be, but I can’t see how. I’m thinking it has something to do with her painting. That’s the common thread. It was here at the frame shop, and down at the gallery, and then supposedly back here after Kathleen took it.”

  Maxine turned sideways on the bench. “But where is it now?”

  “Good question.”

  Chief Iverson reappeared at the door.

  “What time did you get here, Manning?”

  I looked at my watch. “About twenty-five minutes ago, a little after ten.”

  “And how did you get in?”

  “The door was open. I walked in,” I said with an obvious disrespectful edge.

  He gave me a skeptical look. “Yeah, all of our merchants just leave their doors open after business hours.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning too many things are happening since you arrived.” His look was not friendly.

  I kept my thoughts to myself.

  “Who’s the lady?”

  “Her name is Maxine. She works at the Harbor Lantern Inn.”

  He nodded to her. “Were you in the store, ma’am?”

  She shook her head, no.

  “Why did you come here, Manning?”

  “Still looking for the kid, Cletis. I assume you haven’t heard from him.”

  He pointed his finger at me. “Seems to me who I’ve heard from and who I haven’t is none of your business. Also seems to me you know more about this than you’re telling. I don’t like that. It didn’t concern me as much when it was a missing person, but this looks like murder. You sit right down there on the bench while I come up with some reason for locking you up.”

  I sat down. “You’ve got to be kidding. I called you.”

  “Yeah, perfect cover. You said the door was unlocked, right?”

  “Right.”

  He rubbed his chin and slowly shook his head. “I have a problem with that. Yes, I do. It just doesn’t make sense. Some guy comes in, kills Gunderson, searches the place, and then leaves the door open so anyone can walk in and find him. Me? I’m locking the door so the guy isn’t found till the next day. You got an explanation for that—I mean other than you picked the lock?”

  “I already told you what happened. Maybe something scared the murderer away.”

  The words I almost said next would have given him his reason to lock me up. Maybe that’s what he was hoping. Maxine squeezed my leg and I kept quiet.

  “Gruber!”

  “Yeah, Chief.”

  “Get out here and keep an eye on this guy.” Paul came out and the chief went in.

  I looked at Paul with dismay. His eyes got wide and he shrugged. I beckoned him over to the bench.

  “What do you know about this guy, Paul?”

  “Come on, Spencer, the guy is just inside there,” whispered Paul.

  “Can you be at Al’s at eight thirty? Breakfast is on me.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Chief Iverson came back out. “Do you plan on leaving anytime soon, Manning?”

  “Don’t know.” I stood up and pulled Maxine up off the bench. “You plan on doing anything to find Cletis?” We started toward the street.

  He pulled down his cap. “I wouldn’t leave town if I were you. You’re hiding something and I intend to find out what it is.”

  “Good luck with that, Iverson.”

  “That’s Chief Iverson, punk.”

  I stopped at the curb and turned back to him. “I’ll make you a deal. You start acting like one and I’ll call you one.” I didn’t wait for a response and I didn’t look back.

  I headed north on 42. It took ten minutes to get back to the inn. Neither of us said anything until I had parked and turned off the car.

  Maxine turned toward me with a playful smile. “You’ve got a lotta guts for a guy three hundred miles from home.”

  “Hey. I can be just as much of a pain in the ass at home.”

  She laughed and then quickly turned serious. “He doesn’t like you.”

  “Nope. And I’m wondering why.”

  “Maybe he feels threatened. You’re an out-of-town guy coming into his territory.”

  “He should feel threatened. Appears he’s not doing his job.”

  She rolled up her window and opened the door. “Maybe he is. Maybe he’s just not telling you about it.”

  I grimaced. “I’ve heard that before. Could be. But the way he goes about it is pretty strange. And Ginny told me Kathleen didn’t call the police because she didn’t trust them.”

  “Didn’t trust
who?”

  “Well, Ginny didn’t say and probably didn’t ask. But I’m going to assume Kathleen trusts her cousin Paul. That only leaves Iverson.”

  “You think he’s involved in this?”

  I pursed my lips and thought for a few seconds. “No, I just wonder how well he’s doing his job.”

  “Because of what Kathleen said?”

  “Not entirely. I take things she says with a grain of salt. But something sparked her to say it, and my own experience with him just makes me wonder. I don’t trust him. It’s worth keeping an eye on him.”

  Maxine got out and leaned back in. “What time are you picking me up for breakfast?”

  I rubbed the steering wheel with two fingers. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Maxine. This has gotten serious. Gunderson didn’t slip and hit his head.”

  “Come on, Spencer. I’m not afraid of danger—remember where I used to live?”

  I sighed. “Sure, but this is murder.”

  Another playful smile. “And do you recall what brought us together? Let me think. Oh yeah, a murder. Across the hall if I remember correctly. This isn’t even in the same town.”

  I turned on the car. “Okay, I know when I’m beat. Pick you up at eight-fifteen.”

  “I’ll be on the porch. Thanks for the dinner and the tour, Spencer. I had a good time.”

  “My pleasure, Max—me too.”

  I watched her walk up to the porch feeling like I was missing something. A good night kiss would have been nice. She turned and waved as I backed out.

  On the way back to Moonlight Bay I should have been thinking about the case, but found myself thinking about Maxine. This wasn’t a date, it was just two friends enjoying an evening. Our dinner in Chicago hadn’t been a date either. I had enjoyed both and, as I pulled into the horseshoe drive in front of the cottage, I decided I would like to have a first real date with Maxine. But that would probably never happen.

  I sat on the deck, looking at the stars and listening to an owl. When it stopped hooting, I went to bed.

  Chapter 20

  Paul was waiting for us when we pulled into the parking lot of Al Johnson’s Swedish Restaurant in Sister Bay. I waved and held up a finger. Maxine wanted to go look at the goats. The food at Al’s was great, especially breakfast—everything cherry you could ever want. But Al was famous for the goats on the sod roof. Hard to get a lawnmower up on a roof. The tradition had come over from Europe where sod roofs were common, homes were built into the sides of hills, and the goats could just stand up there and graze.