Spider Lake

by Jeff Nania

  It would take months or even years to sort everything out. The company president and vice president had not yet been located. It was assumed that they had fled the country as soon as the photos of the Wolf started showing up on the news. When faced with at least life in prison and possibly the death penalty for being complicit in the death of a federal agent, several mid-management thugs made deals with the FBI resulting in arrests around the country.

  Homer and Irma Jones and Miles Turner, represented by Jack Wheeler, cooperated fully with the federal investigation. They owed some back taxes but they were never charged.

  Flanked by lawyers, David Stone joined the ranks of those willing to tell all he knew. While never admitting to being a part of any criminal enterprise, he was able to provide key information on financial transactions that tied up critical loose ends for the prosecutors. In doing so, he avoided being prosecuted on any issues regarding Superior Shipping and Container and their criminal activities. He did not, however, avoid the slightly built man waiting outside the federal building in Madison. As Stone left the building after the conclusion of his testimony, the waiting man approached him. He identified himself as an investigator with the Internal Revenue Service and handed Stone a one-inch thick pile of summonses. David Stone did not attend the funeral for Brandy Lynn Perkins, another lost soul in a world full of them.

  The information provided by cooperators helped sort out what brought Dimitri Volkinov to the north country. Lance Brolan, Derek Anderson, and others were running a side game laundering money for some mid-level drug smugglers who were skimming drugs from incoming shipments for which they were responsible. They had set up their own distribution networks and had a solid business going. They hooked up with Brolan and Anderson primarily to help them launder their profits. The big bosses found out about their operation, and about the same time, they realized that an informer had infiltrated their distribution network in the Twin Cities. Superior Shipping and Container was doing hundreds of millions of dollars a year in illegal shipments.

  After years of moving money around through shell companies, these bosses had acquired major shares in highly successful, legitimate businesses, including real estate, manufacturing, huge pieces of agricultural land—all viable enterprises. One of their biggest ventures was an iron ore mine in northern Wisconsin where they would have made billions. They could not let this fall apart and called in Volkinov to clean things up. He should have been in and out, but it got complicated, and he stayed too long. They never figured a bunch of jack pine savages would ever catch on to them. They were wrong.

  The Wolf

  As part of the ongoing investigation, the FBI and international law enforcement were focusing considerable resources on a small village in Czechoslovakia. Using DNA and genealogical information, they were trying to track and identify the Wolf.

  It seems that when the Soviet Union began to show signs of struggling, the Czechs became increasingly disenchanted with the policies the Soviets continued to force on them, and significant opposition was forming, particularly in the food producing agricultural areas. The Soviets responded by sending troops into rural Czechoslovakia. It was to intimidate those who may have thought the dominance of USSR was weakening. The military occupation was met with little resistance. Little resistance did not mean no resistance.

  Many of the communities overrun were small farming villages with independent people who lived on and worked the land. Rather than give up, the young men from these villages gathered whatever weapons they could find and took off for the hills. The small band of dissidents soon joined with others and began to carry out raids under the cover of darkness, mostly disabling vehicles, destroying equipment, and generally doing whatever they could to disrupt the military occupation of their homeland.

  One evening, while preparing to set fire to a supply depot, the men came upon crates that contained AK-47 rifles and ammunition, as well as explosives. The Czech rebels used the weapons to good effect two nights later. A particular military unit had made a habit of entering villages and abusing the occupants. The rebels had watched helplessly. After a night of drinking local wine and bullying the members of the small community, the military unit encamped in a field at the edge of the village and didn’t post a guard. The rebels attacked in the middle of the night, killing or wounding most of the soldiers and then retreated back to the hills.

  The rebels now attacked with abandon fueled by their success. They had no concept of the magnitude of the invasion. To these rebels it was a local battle to be fought to protect their families, their land, and their traditions. When the troops came after them, the earth shook. Foot soldiers, supported by aircraft and assault vehicles, searched every inch of the hills. A group of young farmers had no chance. Most of them were killed, but several were captured. The rebels’ feet and hands were bound, and they were dragged into the center of the town. The troops then ordered the residents of neighboring settlements to go to the small village, and soon a large crowd had gathered. Under the direction of the military commander, the rebels were tied to the wheels of large carts still in use in areas where fuel was not plentiful.

  Soldiers stepped forward and ripped the shirts from the backs of each man. Then they were viciously beaten until they fell unconscious. Water was thrown onto them, and when they were revived, they were beaten again. Forced to watch, the villagers wailed and sobbed. Armed troops made it clear that anyone who interfered would be shot. A young man, still a boy, tied to one of the wheels refused to give up. He turned his head and spat blood at his torturer. The result was ghastly, and as the rebel began to falter, a small girl, his sister, ran to him from the crowd. She was shot dead before she reached him. It was enough for all. The soldiers left the village leaving the rebels to be cared for by their families. Some never recovered, but the young man who wouldn’t give up, who had lost the sister he dearly loved, did. His name was Jakub Guluska, later to be known by many names, most recently Dimitri Volkinov, the Wolf.

  The Hero

  A chilling wind blew across a farm field just outside of Northfield, Minnesota. The first snow of the year could come at any time. The Summers family was joined by a mile-long procession of red and blue flashing lights. Law enforcement officers had come from around the country all dressed in their Class A uniforms, their brass, silver, and leather shining. A large contingent of FBI agents stood directly behind the family who had gathered at a small rural cemetery to bury their second child. Their grief was so palpable it struck the hearts of everyone there. Mary Beth Summers, high school class valedictorian, 4H leader, sister, daughter, friend, and FBI agent was being laid to rest. Her youngest brother had preceded her in death—an accidental overdose had taken his life and given hers direction. She had joined the FBI right out of college, determined to be on the front lines. She sacrificed her life trying to save our country from a plague that threatens everything our families and friends value. She served with courage and integrity. Another hero lost.

  New Beginnings

  Autumn comes to the north like no other place on earth. The cool air signals cold nights to come. Smoky gold tamaracks, red leafed maples, and poplars combine in a celebration of color. Musky fishermen ply the waters trying to catch big fall fattened fish. Hunters walk the woods for the elusive ruffed grouse and whitetail deer. The north is never better than at this time of year.

  On a warm fall day, John Cabrelli held Julie Carlson’s hand as they walked up the steps of the courthouse. A large crowd had gathered—law enforcement officers, citizens, friends, family, and Julie’s students. Ron Carver and Len Bork were among them, as well as Doc O’Malley and Mrs. Doc O’Malley. Jim Rawsom’s wife and kids stood close to him as he stood with the aid of a hand-carved cane, alive but facing a long recovery. Bud Treetall stood next to Jack Wheeler, who was wearing a dashing white felt hat and had Shelley DuBois on his arm. Fightin’ Bob Thompson, Liz Masters, and her crew were present.

  Standing at the top of the stairs was Judge Kritzer dressed in his
judicial finest. Julie and John came to stand before him and Bear and Tanya next to them. The judge produced a Bible and held it out to John who placed his right hand upon it.

  Everyone was silent, waiting. Then, the judge spoke, swearing in John Cabrelli as the new sheriff of Namekagon County.

  That evening, Julie and John put the top down on the newly repaired jeep and drove home to their cabin on the lake, holding hands all the way. Once home, Julie went inside and came out with Uncle Nick and Aunt Rose’s wicker picnic basket. She carefully placed it on the deck in the center of the boat tied at the dock. Julie got in followed by John, who then lightly shoved them away from the pier. It was the maiden voyage of the gift they had given themselves, a beautiful cedar strip canoe restored by Seamus Ruwall. Light, even strokes sent them smoothly across the water. The lake was calm, the air quiet. A loon’s wail, followed by a tremolo call, let them know they had been spotted. A flock of soon-to-be southbound mallards flew past low and fast. It was as if the boat was a magical conveyance transporting them to a place of peace and quiet, of new beginnings. Neither spoke. They came to Picnic Island. Julie tied off the bow and climbed up onto the shore. She steadied the boat as John walked hands on the gunnels from the stern. After collecting dry wood, they started a fire in a circle of rocks left by someone who had come to this spot before. Julie spread out a blanket on the ground, and they sat shoulder to shoulder, warmed by the fire, looking out at Spider Lake.

  In the glow of the moonrise, John looked at Julie and said, “I am a lucky man, Julie. Thank you for loving me.”

  “You’re finally right,” she replied with a laugh. “You are a lucky man. And it is my pleasure, John Cabrelli. My pleasure.” With that she snuggled closer.

  * * *

  “You have to read the signs in order to know where you are and to get to where you want to go.”

  Warden John Homes, 1939–2017

  More Northern Lakes Mysteries

  Figure Eight (Book 1)

  A 2020 Midwest Book Award Winner

  As former police officer John Cabrelli struggles in the wake of a career-ending event, he retreats to his late uncle’s lakeside cabin in Wisconsin… but it’s far from the peaceful refuge he expects. Danger awaits — along with the truth behind his uncle’s death.

  * * *

  Bough Cutter (Book 3)

  When grouse hunters stumble upon a body in the backwoods, Sheriff John Cabrelli works to untangle the complex case, while stressed relationships, public outcries for justice, and pressure from the media compound the situation. As the body count rises in the expansive landscape, he soon finds his greatest resource is the community itself.

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  Transport yourself to a northern lake with a man deeply connected to the land in Autumn. You’ll also get occasional updates from the author and be the first to know when the next John Cabrelli Northern Lakes Mystery is available.

  Visit www.feetwetwriting.com for more.

  About the Author

  Jeff Nania is a former law enforcement officer, writer, conservationist, and biofuel creator. He is the author of three fiction books, the award-winning Figure Eight (2019), Spider Lake (2020), and Bough Cutter (2021) in his Northern Lakes Mystery series published by Little Creek Press. His narrative non-fiction writing has appeared in Wisconsin Outdoor News, Double Gun Journal, The Outlook, and other publications.

  Jeff was born and raised in Wisconsin. His family settled in Madison’s storied Greenbush neighborhood. His father often loaded Jeff, his brothers, and a couple of dogs into an old jeep station wagon and set out for outdoor adventures. These experiences were foundational for developing a sense of community, a passion for outdoor traditions, and a love of our natural resources.

  Jeff has been recognized locally, statewide, and nationally. Outdoor Life Magazine named him as one of the nation’s 25 most influential conservationists, and he received the National Wetlands Award for his wetland restoration work. The Wisconsin Senate commended Jeff with a Joint Resolution for his work with wetlands, education, and as a non-partisan advisor on natural resources.

  Now a full-time novelist, Jeff spends as much time as possible exploring outdoor Wisconsin with his friends and family.

  Visit www.feetwetwriting.com for more.

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