I’d left Rock and Knute snoozing in the grass behind the restaurant, but both dogs were barking at a pickup sliding around the corner. It looked like the Willards’ truck and I ran to get a better view. It was gone. Rock and Knute trotted back to me.
Neil and another fisherman stood outside the restaurant entrance. Neil’s words carried back to me. “Just because I talk to Lars about fishing doesn’t mean I’m one of them. I need to pick his brain.”
The evil in Spirit Lake hadn’t blown back out after all.
Chapter 10
Knute slumped by the restaurant’s back door and wouldn’t budge but Rock danced around, itching to go for a walk. I put Knute inside, took off my gym shoes and slipped into my flip flops to give my aching feet some air and locked the door.
Rock and I started toward the lake when someone called my name. Peder came up behind me carrying two bags of groceries.
“I’m making my own dinner tonight for a change.” His sunny smile was almost an antidote to the events this week.
“Would you like help with those bags?”
He passed one over to me. “I was hoping you’d ask. It’s awkward with two.”
I took the bag and he bent down to pet Rock. “Interesting coat.”
“People say he looks like someone splashed him with black and white paint. His name is Rock.”
Peder ruffled Rock’s fur again. “I miss my Sasha and Tasha.”
“Your dogs?” I shifted the bag to my right side.
He reached into his book bag, opened his wallet and showed me a photo of two identical Siberian Huskies. “They are my children.” The silvery dogs stared from the photo with ice-blue eyes.
“They’re stunning.” They looked like him, especially the eyes.
“Sasha and Tasha were all I wanted from the divorce.”
“I’m a divorced dog lover myself.” I smiled. “How’s your poetry coming along?”
“I’m having a bit of writer’s block at the moment, but tea at Little’s helps me forget about it for a while. I noticed you working and tried to catch your attention to say hello.”
“We were all busy today.”
“You must be close with your brother. That’s nice. I don’t have any siblings.”
“Little’s well-being is the most important thing in the world to me. And that includes Lars because he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Little.”
Peder’s head tilted and I stopped speaking. The tension in my voice even scared me. I’d have to try harder to relax. Peder was so cheerful.
He smiled. “Your brother’s lucky.”
“Coming back to Spirit Lake and opening a restaurant were huge risks for him but with Lars behind him, he did it. So Lars is right up there on my list of people I love.” That was better. More upbeat.
Peder stowed his bag under a seat, teetering as I handed him the other one. His hand touched mine as he took it from me. “So there’s no boyfriend on your list of loves?” His smile was teasing and testing.
It had only been a few hours since Ben and I were together, and I still felt the warmth of his arms around me. “I do have someone. We have a long history.”
He tucked the bag next to the first one and hopped back out of his boat. “We hardly talked the last time we had coffee together. Please join me.” He sat on the edge of the dock. “It’s the writer’s block. I can’t face the computer just yet.”
I stepped out of my flip flops and dangled my feet in the water. “So you’re using me to procrastinate.”
“Maybe, just a little.”
His shy smile won me over. I took my camera from my pocket. “Let me take your photo.”
He got to his feet in one graceful motion. “I’m honored, but I’m not a very good subject.”
I stood up too. “No need to pose. Just look into the camera for me, only please take off the dark glasses.” I wasn’t above a bit of flattery to get what I wanted. “Your eyes are blue with a bit of sparkle like the lake, and I’d like to catch that.”
He turned away mid-click. “You said you and your boyfriend have a long history?”
Lots of people are camera shy, especially with close-ups. I put it back in my pocket and gazed across the lake toward Ben’s resort on the point. “Ben and I have known each other since middle school. I hadn’t been back to Spirit Lake for years and had lost touch with him, but I came back here to work for the Minneapolis StarTribune and our connection was still there. Unfortunately, with our jobs that connection gets tenuous at times.”
“And now you work for the L.A. Times?”
Rather than going into the whole story, I simply nodded. “That’s right.”
“Where’s this Ben now? I haven’t seen you with him.”
I hesitated, not wanting to encourage Peder’s personal interest, but I liked his easy manner after all the tension. “He was here yesterday. He works for the forest service and is on a project in the Boundary Waters area.”
His brow furrowed so I explained. “The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness is a million acres of forest, with more than a thousand lakes and streams that borders Minnesota and Canada. People refer to it as the BW.”
“Impressive.” Peder looked closely at me. “Ben means a lot to you, but not as much as your photojournalism work. Do I have that right?”
I slipped into my flip flops. “That’s apples and oranges. You can’t compare.” I called to Rock. “Time to go, buddy.”
His smile faded. “I’ve said something wrong. Sometimes I don’t quite get the nuances of the English language. I just assumed that since you left here, your L.A. Times job was your priority. I’m sorry, please don’t leave.”
I softened. “It’s not you, I really do need to get back to the restaurant.” Over my shoulder, I said, “Good luck with your writing.”
Opening up to a new acquaintance was rare for me, but Peder’s chatty teasing and questioning made me forget my worries. Still, he didn’t get my relationship with Ben at all.
Several cars were pulling into Little’s parking lot, the dinner crowd already arriving. I herded Rock into the back door, patted Knute’s head and put food in their bowls before returning to the restaurant.
The staff had changed from the morning crew. A different cook’s helper and dishwasher were in place in the kitchen. The only ones who worked from opening until closing were Lars and Little. I’d always thought the winters must be rough for them when business was so much slower, but they probably welcomed the rest.
Little waved as I walked through the kitchen. Mostly all females worked at the restaurant. Lars told me once that even though the townspeople loved the restaurant and liked them, they didn’t want their sons to be unduly influenced. Boys didn’t want to be thought of in that way, so few applied anyway. Small prejudices over time are as hurtful as the blatant ones. The guys overlooked a lot of it, but what they had to endure infuriated me. I had to alert Lars that Neil was using him. Lars thought he’d made a new friend.
Bella and Violet showed up for dinner and I took waters to their booth. Bella picked up a menu. “We wanted to see you in an apron.” She peered at me above her glasses. “Ben must have made quite an impression last night. I hope you didn’t wear your hair like that.”
My hand involuntarily tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. At Little’s insistence, I’d pulled my braid into a bun at the nape of my neck.
Violet made a face at her mother. “It’s nice you’re helping out, Britt. You look quite regal with your hair like that.”
By the time the customers were gone and the place cleaned and readied for morning, it was after eleven. “How do you guys do this every day?” I took off a shoe and rubbed my sore foot.
Lars pointed to my feet. “I can fix that. Come on.”
I followed them back to their apartment. Little sat in his recliner and I moved a pile of linens from the sofa, grateful to be off my feet. Lars left the room, returning in a few minutes with an electric foot spa filled with hot water.
“This always helps.”
He brought one for Little and another one for himself. Little dumped in what he called special rejuvenating herbal essences, and the three of us stuck our feet in the bubbling tubs and cranked up the television volume to hear the news.
Happily percolating, I asked, “Do you always keep an extra foot bath for guests?”
Little said, “We bought new ones but Lars wanted to keep one of the old ones for emergency backup.”
“I’m glad Lars is a hoarder. This is heaven.” Rock stuck his nose too close to the bubbles and snorted. Knute wasn’t having anything to do with it.
Lars said, “I suppose we won’t see you tomorrow. Too much work for an old gal like you.”
Ready to shoot back with a rundown of my daily routine of swimming, squats, situps, pushups and weights to keep myself in shape for the physical work I did as a photographer, I saw the twinkle in his eyes and stopped. He was using reverse psychology, and it worked.
“I’m not taking my eyes off you guys during the day.”
Little frowned. “We want to keep an eye on you, too, but why don’t you just hang out? We have enough help.”
“From what I could tell, there’s never enough help. It’s a bottomless pit of customers. You know I’d lose my mind sitting at the counter all day.”
Our banter was almost forced, as if we were pretending everything was normal. The threat out there kept it from being the cozy scene we all craved.
I took my spa into the bathroom, rinsed it and left it in the tub. Little was nodding off. He had to get up at dawn again. I peeked out the window. “Jerry’s on duty so I’m taking off.”
A loud sound outside like a firecracker made us all jump and Rock started barking.
My phone was out in an instant. I tapped in Jerry’s number. “What happened out there?”
“Everything’s good, just an old pickup backfiring.”
I told the guys what Jerry said but Little chewed on his lower lip, a sign he was nervous. I said, “The dogs can stay with you guys. Rock’s the best security around.”
Little said, “What about you?”
“This guy isn’t targeting me but if it makes you feel better, I’ll ask Eddy to swing by my cabin when he’s doing his rounds.”
He bit his lower lip. “If you’re sure.”
“Of course.”
I double-checked all the doors, waved to Jerry and went home. Toes still tingling from the foot bath, I pulled into my driveway. Last night with Ben had been wonderful, but not exactly restful. I needed a good night’s sleep.
Eddy didn’t answer my call so I left a message. At the cabin, I listened to Norah Jones as I undressed, stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Warm water rolling down my back carried the tension away. I closed my eyes, nearly falling asleep standing up, then reached for the shampoo with a sigh. There was no hurrying up the washing and rinsing process with long hair.
I paused at a slight sound above the music. It wasn’t Rock and Knute roaming around, they weren’t with me. Prickling at the back of my neck made me uncomfortable enough to turn off the water and listen. Nothing. I stepped out. The hair on my arm raised. I always left the bathroom door open to let the steam escape but it was closed. I turned the knob and pushed. The door didn’t open. That made no sense since it locked from inside. I jiggled it but it wouldn’t budge. I rammed the door with my shoulder and it gave slightly. Something was jammed against it from the other side.
The music stopped. I stiffened. A door closed and I yelled, “Who’s out there?” I scrambled for my cell but it wasn’t on the sink where I’d set it. Only my camera was still there.
I slammed against the door until my shoulder and hip ached, then stopped to catch my breath. The bathroom had one tiny window set high, ten inches by twelve, just big enough to let in fresh air. Even though the closest house was a mile away, I stood on my tiptoes and screamed anyway.
When my voice was too hoarse to yell anymore, and terrified that the killer did this to make it easier to get to Little and Lars, I kicked the door with my bare feet until they were numb.
Toward morning, I wrapped a towel around my body and slid to the floor holding my hair dryer for a weapon, waiting for him to come for me.
Chapter 11
My land line ringing in the living room woke me. It rang, stopped and rang again. Shortly after that, my mobile phone chimed from somewhere close. Maybe the bedroom. He hadn’t taken it, only moved it out of my reach. The caller tried several times, then silence. Whoever was on the other end would guess I wasn’t home and when my cell didn’t work, assume I was out of range and give up. Little and Lars would eventually miss me and come looking. If they were okay. A chill crept up my spine.
I rubbed my bruised shoulder and splashed cold water on my face. Haunted eyes ringed by dark circles stared back at me from the mirror. A beam of light shining through the tiny window told me it was morning.
Not long after the phones quieted, I stiffened at the sound of a door banging open. Then Little and Lars called my name. Relief flooding my system, I rewound the towel and banged my fist against the door. “I’m locked in the bathroom.”
Feet stampeded through the bedroom, the door opened and I threw myself at them.
Little said, “Are you okay? You said you were coming to work this morning and when you weren’t there and didn’t answer your phones, we knew something was wrong.”
“I’m fine, and relieved that you and Lars are okay. I was worried he might try something at the restaurant.”
Lars showed me a metal pipe with a rubber grip on the bottom. “He wedged this against the door.”
The top part was forked to fit snug under the door knob. I’d seen them in the hardware store—the poor man’s security system.
I grabbed Little’s shirt, thinking arson. “Who’s watching the restaurant?”
“Seth is there and Jerry’s with us. He’s keeping watch outside,” said Lars.
Little pried my hands from his shirt and headed toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit for a minute? I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Lars cleared his throat. “Wilcox will be here soon. Maybe you want to get dressed?”
They were treating me like a delicate two-year-old and I was grateful but couldn’t sit down. “I’ll have tea later, Little.” I tossed on jeans and a shirt, grabbed my camera and walked through the cabin, looking for anything out of place. Wilcox would be angry that I was destroying evidence by moving around in the space, but the guys had already run through it looking for me.
The intruder had unlocked every door and left the windows wide open. He’d broken the back lock to get in. Nothing else was disturbed. Then I saw the message and froze, camera half-way to my eyes. The words “You Can’t Protect Him” were laid out on the table next to my laptop. The slight breeze moved a few of the letters out of line but it was readable. I swallowed and raised my camera.
Little stood beside me looking down at the message, his face white. “Does he mean me?”
Lars put his arm around Little’s shoulders. “Jaysus.”
When the sheriff’s car screeched into the driveway, I was outside taking photos and looking for footprints. Wilcox barked. “Thor’s on her way. She’ll take care of that. What happened here last night?”
“I didn’t hear or see anyone, Sheriff. I’d locked all the doors and windows, but he sneaked into the bathroom while I was showering, took my phone and locked me in.”
Wilcox walked around the side of the cabin and returned in a few minutes. “The back door lock was broken.”
I’d already taken a photo of the broken lock. He went inside and checked the bathroom first, and then the rest of the house. I followed. He stood in the doorway of the former guest bedroom. “What’s all this?”
I’d stored the guest bed in the garage and filled the room with weights, jump rope and resistance band and installed a pullup bar in the doorway. “I don’t think anything’s been touched
in here,” I said.
He pointed to a thirty-five-pound kettle bell. “You’re lucky he didn’t bash you with that.”
Thor showed up wearing a graphic comics t-shirt and camo pants, her ears loaded with an assortment of skull studs. She hauled her fingerprint kit and bag of tricks into the cabin.
I showed her the pipe and she bagged it. “We’ll see if we can get any prints from it. The sheriff will check hardware stores. Maybe a clerk will remember someone buying it.”
Wilcox stood behind her. “Thank you, Thor.”
She stammered. “I’ll do the bathroom first.” She’d told me the sheriff didn’t like having to remind her that her job was to collect and preserve evidence, analyze it later if possible, and write reports. Period.
He stood at my table, his finger jabbing at the words. “He was sending a message that he could get to you any time he wanted.”
I pointed to a photography magazine on the table. “He cut the letters from this.”
“We’ll see if he left fingerprints on it, but he’s been careful so far.” His eyes narrowed at me. “You’re staying with Little and Lars. No argument this time. What the hell were you thinking leaving the dogs at Little’s?”
I lifted my shoulders. “I didn’t think I was on the killer’s agenda, but I left a message for Eddy to come by on his rounds. Maybe he didn’t get it.”
Little and Lars went back to work and I followed an hour later. I dropped my overnight bag on the sofa in the guys’ apartment for my sleepover. Wilcox didn’t get an argument from me this time. Staying by myself at the cabin had lost its appeal.
Cynthia called as I filled coffees along the booths. “You’re not going to like this. Wilcox convinced me to hold the piece on Charley and the vandalism and threats.”
I was used to law enforcement holdback on specifics to keep the bad guy from finding out how much info the police had, but in this case Wilcox wanted to stop the entire story.
Walking into the bistro where it was quieter, I whispered. “If I were the killer, I’d be more suspicious if nothing was in the paper. They’ll know Wilcox thinks it’s a big deal. What if we treat it like a rash of break-ins and vandalism in Spirit Lake, but don’t connect them to Charley.”
Close Up on Murder Page 9