by Annie Knox
“Really?”
“Yeah, we both quit when I was pregnant with Jordan, and Steve was all gung ho to stick with it after the baby was born. Keep his environment clean and all that, make sure we both live long healthy lives. But I don’t have many vices, and this is one I just cannot give up.”
“Steve’s quite the convert, huh?”
“Yep,” she said after taking another heavy drag. “Won’t even let his crew smoke on outside jobs. A couple of times, he’s even asked people in public places to put out their cigarettes because of Jordan. It’s a little extreme.”
She took one last drag, then snuffed out the cigarette on the bottom of her shoe, dropped the butt in a plastic Baggie she’d pulled from her purse, and sealed it up tight so the odor was contained. Finally, she pulled out a little canister of breath spray and gave herself a couple of healthy squirts.
“Anyway,” she said after she finished her postcigarette ritual, “I’d love to do a full-length feature on the double wedding, hopefully for the Sunday paper. I’ll run it by my editor Ted, but I can’t imagine he’d be opposed.”
“Thanks so much, Ama.”
Frankly the request for extra coverage of the weekend’s nuptials had been a thin cover story for my real reasons for bothering Ama.
“I don’t mean to beat a dead horse, but did Daniel Colona contact you after he got to town?”
Ama’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously, Izzy? How many ways can I tell you that I didn’t know Daniel Colona and he didn’t know me?”
“It’s just that he had your phone number in the back of his journal.”
“Maybe he got my number from someone, called the paper or something. But he didn’t use it. I. Never. Met. Him.”
I offered a timid smile of apology. “I get it. I’m sorry. I’m just so anxious about my aunt Dolly.”
Ama sighed. “It’s okay. Family is important. I’d do anything to protect my family. I understand that you must feel the same way.”
“Listen, I had another question, if you don’t mind.”
She stiffened, but she didn’t say no.
“I was wondering what you know about Kevin Lah- ti. If maybe you’ve learned anything about him in your time as a reporter.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“Joyce Lambert is the one you should ask. She covers the police beat, and from what I know of Kevin, his whole life is just a series of criminal acts.”
I decided to dip my hook in the water to see what I might catch. “I’d heard”—from Rena’s rambling speculations—“that Kevin might be involved somehow with the development out by the lake.”
“Kevin? I can’t imagine that. Hal Olson may be a shady character, but no one in their right mind would trust Kevin Lahti with any kind of job at all. He’s horrible to Dee Dee. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dee Dee and I are not exactly sisterly, but no one should be treated the way Kevin treats Dee Dee. And he lies every time he opens his mouth. He used to borrow money from Steve all the time, coming up with emergency after emergency, until I finally put my foot down and said ‘no more.’”
She’d gotten pretty worked up during her tirade, so she took a moment to calm herself before continuing. “Why on earth do you ask?”
“Just something I heard,” I hedged. “That he was hanging out down there.”
“It was that Richard Greene, wasn’t it? For a man who insists he wants to be left alone, he sure does spend a lot of time prying into everyone’s business.”
Amen.
“After he found out that Steve got beat out of the bid by a firm in Brainerd, he decided to take it personally. Like Hal’s decision had been an affront to Merryville.”
I wondered how Richard would feel if he knew that Hal had brought in overseas investors for the project.
“In this case, he’s probably right. Steve has driven . . .” Her voice faded away when she realized what she was about to spill. She cleared her throat and continued on bravely. “Steve has driven out to the site now and then to see what they’re doing, how it’s coming along, and he’s mentioned that he’s seen Kevin a couple of times, getting out of that rust-bucket truck of his with a guy in full Cabela’s camo gear, both of them carrying guns.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Ama waved off my concern. “Just hunters.”
“But I’d heard that Kevin wasn’t getting much business from the hunters and fishermen anymore. Too sketchy for the wealthy tourists who are visiting now.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Kevin was leading some sort of survivalist group, or maybe even a white supremacy group that had set up a command center in the woods. You hear about these things happening in Wyoming and the UP of Michigan. Why not Minnesota?
Ama laughed grimly. “You’re so naive, Izzy. You’re right that the high-toned hunters and fishers and birders wouldn’t be caught dead with Kevin Lahti during the daytime. But at night? Guides who’ll take you on night hunts are few and far between.”
“Night hunts? Isn’t that illegal?”
“Precisely.”
Night hunting would explain the discussion of goggles. Hunters used night-vision goggles to see their prey in the dark.
“Why hasn’t Steve called the police?” I asked.
Ama shrugged, her mouth set in a thin line. “I’ve told him to do it a hundred times. But he just says he’s only guessing about what they’re doing. Even the time he actually heard a shot in the woods, he claimed that he didn’t know if Kevin and his companion were actually shooting at a living thing or just doing target practice.”
“What?”
“Exactly. I think he doesn’t want to call the cops because he’s afraid of what will happen to Dee Dee if she loses Kevin. He treats her worse than a dog, but without him, she couldn’t afford to keep the house, and there really aren’t that many job opportunities for someone who’s so far off the rails. Somehow Steve convinced Hal to hire her to work on the site, but that won’t last forever, and she’ll be back to relying on Kevin for every penny.”
“I’m sorry you’re caught up in all this,” I said, genuinely sad that Dee Dee, Ama, and Steve were dealing with the fallout of Kevin’s illegal activities.
“So let this be a warning to you, Izzy. If I were you, I’d stay as far away from Kevin Lahti as I could.”
CHAPTER
Fourteen
Needless to say, I chose not to take Ama’s advice.
Kevin and Dee Dee Lahti lived in a ramshackle house on the edge of the city. It appeared to have been a tidy 1950s bungalow at one point, but additions, sheds, and slant-roofed porches had grown out of the original building like tumors. The property had been fenced in so that dogs and chickens could roam freely. Most of the dogs were not getting blowouts at Prissy’s Pretty Pets. Most of them looked semiferal and defeated.
Rena had been called away to spend the afternoon with her father, who suffered from severe alcoholism and the myriad physical complaints that came with that. So Sean and I were left to deal with the ravening pack at the Lahti house on our own.
Okay, that wasn’t fair. While the dogs didn’t appear domesticated, as we stood there at the gate, they looked like they didn’t give a rip what was happening around them.
Gingerly, Sean opened the gate and we stepped through. One of the dogs stirred so he could watch us more closely, but there was no aggression in his stance. Still, Sean held his hands out to his side, keeping me safely behind him. The chivalrous gesture made me smile.
When we mounted the porch and made it to the front door, Sean’s knock was met almost immediately by a cry of “Dee Dee, get the damn door.”
Charming.
The door swung wide, and Dee Dee stood there in another extravagant, brilliantly colored caftan—tonight in a chevron-stripe pattern of apple green and purple that made me slightly queasy when I looked at it. She
took a drag on the ever present Parliament and squinted at us suspiciously.
“What do you want?”
“We were actually hoping to have a word with your husband,” Sean said gently.
Dee Dee’s eyes grew round with alarm and she stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door behind her. “Are you trying to get me killed? Kevin don’t like folks knowing about his business. If he knows I told you that that reporter called him, he’ll have my hide.”
“We’ll keep you out of it,” I soothed. “Promise.”
She glanced over her shoulder, apparently weighing the probability that she’d be caught out no matter what we said with the damage Kevin could do.
Before she reached a decision, Kevin yelled from inside, “Who the heck is it, woman? Who you dillydallying with?”
Dee Dee winced at the sound of footsteps approaching the door.
“What’s all this about?” Kevin asked as he pulled the door open wide.
Kevin Lahti was as tough and spare as his wife was colorful and exuberant. His grungy jeans hung off his bony behind and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a good five days: not long enough to have a genuine beard, but too long for that sexy five-o’clock shadow look. Though, frankly, no amount of shadow could have made Kevin Lahti sexy. One look in the man’s black eyes, flat as flounders, and I shivered clear to my toes.
He, too, squinted at us in the dim light. “I know you,” he said, nodding his head toward Sean. “You that lawyer from in town. Helped get Nick Haas out of that loitering beef last month.”
My Sean. He moved in such lofty circles.
“Yes, sir,” Sean replied, holding out his hand to shake. “Sean Tucker.”
Kevin looked at the proffered hand and snorted.
Sean pulled his hand back to his side. “This is my friend Izzy McHale.”
“McHale, McHale . . . Were your folks those teachers? Both flunked me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kevin laughed with a chain-smoker’s harsh cackle. “Don’t be. Hated school. Just marking time until I could drop out. Anyways, what do you two want with my Dee Dee, here?”
“Actually, we were hoping to speak with you.”
Kevin cocked his head. “Now, what would two fine, upstanding folks like yourselves want with me?”
Dee Dee was doing her best to squeeze her body around Kevin’s to get back in the house.
“Quit your wiggling, woman,” Kevin demanded. “Why don’t we invite our friends here inside?”
Dee Dee looked mortified, but she mustered a smile.
The four of us made our way into the Lahti living room. Dee Dee’s fingerprint was stamped squarely on this room. Macramé hanging baskets filled with spider plants, avocado green furniture, and a plethora of owls in paintings and sculptures and even one crafted of macramé all served to date the room horrifically. But while it was a trip back to Brady days, it was also neat as a pin. Smelled like an ashtray, but every item had a place and every surface was dust-free. Pumpkin, her hair still flowing and shining from her trip to Pris’s, sat on a plush gold ottoman next to the wood-burning stove. Dee Dee didn’t have the best taste or the funds to update her home, but she clearly cared for it.
“So what can I do for you?” Kevin asked as he plopped down into a black pleather recliner.
At Kevin’s urging, Sean and I took a seat on the green velveteen couch. Sean leaned forward, taking the lead.
“We’re trying to figure out what happened to Daniel Colona. Do you know him?”
“Who?”
“Daniel Colona.”
“Don’t know him.”
A hint of frustration crept into Sean’s voice. “Mr. Lah- ti, we have it on good authority that he called you a couple of times while he was in town.”
“You making some sort of accusation?” Kevin’s voice cut through the air like a razor blade.
Sean held up his hands. “Not at all. We’re just trying to retrace Daniel’s steps during his stay in Merryville, figure out how he spent his days.”
Kevin looked back and forth between us, trying to judge our motives. We must have looked pretty darned innocent, because he didn’t throw us out immediately.
Eventually, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what that fella was doing up here. He did call me a couple of times, trying to get me to lead him on a night excursion of some sort.”
“Night hunting?” Sean prodded.
Kevin grew very still, and I think Dee Dee stopped breathing. I slid my hand into my jacket pocket and got a death grip on Aunt Dolly’s derringer.
“That’s illegal,” Kevin said, stating the obvious.
“It sure is,” Sean said. “Don’t worry. We’re not interested in your poaching.”
Kevin relaxed against the back of his recliner. “What poaching?” he asked with an oil slick of a smile.
“We’re interested in what Daniel was interested in,” Sean explained. “And if Daniel was interested in your nighttime activities, then that raises the question of whether Daniel got himself killed over your poaching.”
That ominous stillness hung over the room again, until Kevin laughed. Tipped back his head and howled at the ceiling.
“You think I’d kill some guy because he thought—thought—I was engaged in a little dirty hunting? Even if I did, on occasion, take a select few clients on night hunts—and I’m not saying I do—I didn’t take that reporter fella out on any excursion at all, let alone one that skirted the law. I may not be educated, but I’m not stupid. Don’t trust reporters, that’s what I say.”
“But your sister-in-law is a reporter,” I chimed in softly.
“Damn straight. Don’t trust her, either. Too perfect. All that perfect has to be hiding something. Anyway, Daniel didn’t have a story. At least, he didn’t have anything on me. Why would I kill him?”
Sean shrugged.
“Can I get anyone an iced tea? Or maybe a beer?” Dee Dee asked. Her whole body was vibrating with anxiety. This conversation might kill her.
Kevin growled. “No one wants a drink, Dee Dee. These folks won’t be here much longer.”
Sean threw Dee Dee a smile. “Thanks for the offer, Mrs. Lahti, but I think Izzy and I are just fine.”
“You all finished accusing me of shit?” Kevin said.
Sean’s smile never wavered. “Not quite,” he admitted.
Kevin laughed again, the sound less amused this time. “You really have some nerve, mister. Most people know to keep their distance from me. Stay out of my business.”
“Yes, well, I’ve never been one to cower in the face of bullies. And I don’t think you’re going to hurt me, Mr. Lahti. A half dozen people know that Izzy and I are here. If something happened to us, the cops would be on your doorstep in a heartbeat. And while you’re not stupid, you’re not smart enough to commit the perfect crime.”
Kevin grunted in response, eyes narrowed in simmering anger.
“So what do you want now?”
I scooched closer to Sean. This was the tough part, our Hail Mary pass, fourth down with only seconds left on the clock.
“We talked to Hal Olson,” Sean said. “He might have had a bone to pick with Daniel, too. But Hal said he was with you at the time of the murder. ‘Doin’ something.’”
“Mmmm,” Kevin hummed, clearly unsure where we were going with this.
“The way we look at it, one of three things is the truth. First, you and Hal really were together that night, doing God knows what. Second, Hal is lying to cover his own ass. Or third, Hal is lying to cover your ass. Hal isn’t in the mood to be forthright, but we’re hoping you will be.”
“And why would I help you with this? Hal sends me a lot of business. I don’t see why I should throw him to the wolves.”
I held my breath. It sure sounded like Kevin was about to
blow Hal’s alibi out of the water.
“You might want to help us because, while we’re not interested in your poaching, the police would be.”
Kevin realized he was trapped.
“For crying out loud, okay. Hal and I were together that night.”
“Hunting?” Sean pushed.
“No, as a matter of fact we weren’t hunting,” Kevin said smugly.
What? Mind. Blown. What on earth could Hal and Kevin have in common beyond a little shady hunting action?
“So if you weren’t hunting, then what were you doing?” Sean asked.
Kevin looked pointedly at Dee Dee, who wordlessly got up, scooped up Pumpkin, and disappeared into another room.
“We were socializing. Hal was after a little action. He’s got varied tastes, if you know what I mean, and that wife of his is watching his every move. If he wants a little nooky on the side, he has to go out of town to find it. I know about a little place down near Brainerd where the ladies are pretty and the price is right. Place is very discreet, very careful not to open their doors to cops. So, for a small fee, I agreed to drive down with him and get him in the front door.”
How interesting, I thought. Kevin has no problem treating his wife like dirt in front of other people, but he doesn’t want her to hear about his infidelities. I guess different people have different priorities in their relationships.
“When did you leave?” Sean asked.
“About nine. Hal was supposed to meet me at the RV lot at eight—it’s a long drive to Brainerd, and I wanted to get there before the really cute girls were otherwise employed—but Hal was late. He’s lucky I didn’t just drive off without him.”
I did the math in my head. Just because Hal was with Kevin that night, he didn’t have an alibi. Ingrid and Harvey’s wedding had started at seven. Daniel was killed around seven twenty. That left Hal with over an hour and a half to make his way home, clean himself up, and get to the RV park to meet Kevin at nine.
“You know, Hal’s been a good partner over the last few years, sent a lot of specialized clientele my way, but dragging me into this? Not cool,” Kevin said. He might have been cagey when we brought up Hal’s name, but by then he’d clearly crossed some threshold and was more than happy to dish all the dirt on Hal.