The Case of the Unfettered Utonagan

by B R Snow

  “Look, why don’t you give me a few days to pull some stuff together and then we’ll sit down and knock it out. How does Friday work for you?”

  “As long as I’m not in the hospital.”

  “Hospital?” he said, frowning. Then the penny dropped. “Oh, right. Duh.”

  I slowly worked my way out of my chair and extended my hand.

  “Thanks, Larry. I appreciate your help.”

  “Hey, that’s why I’m here, right? It was nice seeing you, Suzy. I’ll be in touch.”

  We both headed out of the office. As we walked down the hall, I spotted a photo of Larry standing next to Althea on a dock.

  “Where was that taken?” I said, coming to a stop and taking a closer look at it.

  “Downriver somewhere,” he said. “I don’t really remember.”

  “You both look happy.”

  “Yeah, we were,” he said, staring at the photo.

  “Why did Althea leave?”

  “She just wanted more.”

  “From life?” I said, glancing at him.

  “That’s what she said. But I think the real reason was she wanted more than me.”

  “Ouch,” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Ouch indeed.”

  The front door opened, and Chief Abrams and Detective Williams entered. They both waved then removed their coats.

  “My ten o’clock,” Larry said, heading toward them.

  “Cops in the morning, lawyers take warning,” I said, following him. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  “Hi, Suzy,” the Chief said, then shook hands with the lawyer. “How are you doing, Larry?”

  “I’m good, Chief.”

  “This is Detective Williams from the state police,” the Chief said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Detective. You sounded very official on the phone yesterday, Chief. What do you need to talk about?”

  “Dr. Jeremy Peters,” the Chief said without ceremony.

  “Peters? Yeah, sure. I know Jeremy. What did he do?”

  “You haven’t heard?” Detective Williams said.

  “I’ve been out of town,” Larry said. “What happened? DUI? I hear the guy loves his wine.”

  “No. He’s dead,” Detective Williams said.

  Larry the Loser visibly flinched and his eyes narrowed. I studied his face closely, but it gave nothing away.

  “Jeremy’s dead?” the lawyer whispered. “What happened?”

  “He was hit in the back of the head with a blunt object,” the Chief said. “Probably a chunk of firewood.”

  “Where?”

  “Out at Cabot Lodge,” the Chief said. “Are you familiar with the place?”

  “Only on paper,” Larry said with a shrug. Then he caught the look both cops were giving him and continued. “I handled Jeremy’s will. And the lodge is listed as one of his assets.”

  “You said you’ve been out of town,” Detective Williams said. “Can I ask where you were?”

  “In Colorado.”

  “Skiing?” the Chief said.

  Larry stared at the Chief, started to speak then stopped. Eventually, he continued.

  “I went to Colorado to track down my former assistant,” the lawyer said softly.

  “Althea, right?” the Chief said.

  “Yeah. We didn’t depart on good terms, and I went out there to see if there was a chance I could talk her into coming back.”

  “How did that go?” the Chief said.

  “I couldn’t find her,” Larry said. “It turned out the address she gave me was bogus. I guess she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want to see me anymore.”

  “Did you talk to the cops while you were out there?” Detective Williams said. “Maybe file a missing person report?”

  “Why would I do that?” Larry said, his voice rising a notch. “It was, and still is, pretty clear she just doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  Detective Williams glanced at me, and I nodded I understood it was time for me to take my leave.

  “Maybe we should continue this conversation in your office,” Detective Williams said.

  “I need to run,” I said, pulling on my coat. “Thanks for your help, Larry.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” the lawyer said, obviously preoccupied with other thoughts. “I’ll give you a call.”

  I headed for the door but stopped when Chief Abrams called after me.

  “Suzy, you got a sec?”

  “Sure, Chief. What’s up?”

  “I need to talk with you about using your place in Cayman,” he said, seamlessly transitioning into his cover story.

  “Oh, good. You guys decided to go down.”

  “You two go on ahead,” the Chief said to Detective Williams. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  We watched the detective and lawyer walk down the hall. When they were out of earshot, the Chief sat down and motioned for me to do the same. Not wanting to deal with getting in and out of a chair, I stayed on my feet.

  “What did he have to say for himself?” he said.

  “He said he’s leaving the area. For sun and sand.”

  “Interesting,” the Chief said. “Take the money and run, huh?”

  “I guess,” I said, frowning. “But he seemed genuinely surprised about the news that Peters was dead.”

  “He’s a lawyer,” the Chief said. “He’s probably used to hiding his real feelings. Or flat-out lying to our face.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But genuine shock is pretty hard to fake.”

  “Maybe. And he was in Colorado right around the time the woman’s car went off a cliff.”

  “It seems too easy.”

  “Sometimes, it is that easy,” he said.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “What else did he have to say?” the Chief said.

  “He’s branching out into financial services,” I said. “Trustee services. Financial management. Stuff like that. He said he recently got an opportunity to make the transition.”

  “By writing himself into Peters’ will,” the Chief said.

  “Yeah, I suppose,” I said softly, deep in thought.

  “You’re not going to start overthinking this thing, are you?”

  “Rhetorical, right?”

  “Silly me,” he said, getting to his feet. “I need to get back there. If you’re willing to buy us lunch, we’ll meet you at C’s after we finish up.”

  “You got it.”

  “What’s the special today?”

  “I’m not sure. Does it matter?”

  “It never has before.”

  Chapter 13

  Judge Jeremiah Thompson was a vibrant guy somewhere in his late fifties with piercing blue eyes that could bring criminals and their lawyers to their knees. A man with a bite far worse than his bark, he wasn’t shy about using the power of the bench to command order in his courtroom and keep the wheels of justice turning. And the wrath he showed on a regular basis for those he considered unruly or unprepared wasn’t confined to defendants and their defense teams. He was as tough on prosecutors and law enforcement officials who came before him. As such, while feared and disliked by many, he commanded a level of respect that was the envy of most people who worked in and around the district courthouse.

  We were escorted into his office by his assistant, and he immediately got out of his chair and beamed at me.

  “Suzy Chandler,” he said, giving me a hug. “Look at you. When’s your due date?”

  “I’ve got a few weeks to go,” I said, patting my belly.

  “Well, you look fantastic. By the way, nice work smoking out that corrupt FBI agent who was smuggling people across the River. Well done.”

  “Oh, you heard about that?” I said, surprised.

  “I hear everything,” he said as a simple statement of fact.

  “You’re looking good, Judge.”

  “Oh, knock that judge crap off,” he said, waving my comment away. “Call me Jeremiah.” Then he gave bot
h cops the once-over. “But you two can call me, Judge Thompson.”

  “How are you, Judge Thompson?” Detective Williams said.

  The judge’s eyes narrowed as he studied the detective.

  “Williams, right? You’re with the staties,” Judge Thompson said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You testified in front of me about a year ago,” the judge said, staring off momentarily. “Give me a sec. I’ll remember. The Bobby Talbot case, right?”

  “You’ve got a good memory, Your Honor,” Detective Williams said.

  “It’s a little hard to forget lowlifes like Talbot. Yeah, I remember you. You did a good job. Stuck to the facts. Laid it all out in a way that was easy for the jury to follow. Yeah, I remember. You’ve got a nice Joe Friday quality I always appreciate.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “And you’re Chief Abrams, right?” the judge said, extending his hand.

  “I am. It’s nice to finally meet you, Judge Thompson.”

  “Likewise,” the judge said, nodding. “You run a tight ship down there. I hear good things about you. So, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, you see, sir-” Detective Williams said.

  “Hang on a sec,” the judge said, focusing on me. “We’ve got a new litter coming soon. Make sure you let Josie know we’re going to need her to stop by in a couple of weeks.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Princess is having another litter?”

  “Yeah,” the judge said, nodding. “This will be her last one. Should be quite a collection. We mated her with a male who finished third in Best of Breed at nationals last year.” He turned to the two cops. “My wife and I breed poodles.”

  “Nice,” the Chief said.

  “Smartest dogs on the planet,” he said. “Smarter than most of the criminals who end up in front of me. And probably half the lawyers, too.”

  “Do you show them?” Detective Williams said.

  “Nah,” the judge said, shaking his head. “We leave that to other people. I prefer to let our dogs be dogs. As long as they don’t run off or crap in the house, I’m a happy guy.” He beamed at me. “Am I right or am I right?”

  “Can’t argue with your logic, Jeremiah,” I said, laughing. “I’ll let Josie know.”

  “Thanks. It’ll be good to see her. How’s she doing?”

  “She’s great.”

  “Good,” he said, then sat down behind his desk and focused on Detective Williams. “You were saying?”

  “We’re here to request a surveillance warrant.”

  “I see,” he said, nodding. “You got a good reason?”

  “We think so, Your Honor,” Detective Williams said.

  “The last guy who got a warrant out of me because he thought he had a good reason was…well, never.”

  “I understand, sir,” Detective William said, quickly backpedaling. “Let me rephrase. We’re sure we have more than enough to justify a surveillance warrant.”

  “Much better,” the judge said. “Continue.”

  “We’ve uncovered a corrupt lawyer.”

  “Geez, Detective,” the judge said, frowning. “I do that on a daily basis before lunch. C’mon, get to it. Who are we talking about?”

  “Larry Lamplighter.”

  “Lamplighter?” Judge Thompson said as a wide grin emerged. “Now, you’re talking. I’ve been looking for a way to bury that bottom feeder for years. What did he do?”

  “He wrote himself into a client’s will as a beneficiary,” Detective Williams said.

  Judge Thompson burst into extended laughter. His eyes watered and he wiped them with a tissue before exhaling loudly.

  “Beautiful,” the judge said. “That’s just frigging beautiful.”

  “We’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Detective Williams said.

  “How the heck did he think he was going to get away with that?” the judge said.

  “Both the client and the individual who witnessed the signing of the will are dead,” Detective Williams said.

  Judge Thompson’s eyes narrowed.

  “And you think Lamplighter killed them?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Who was the client?”

  “Dr. Jeremy Peters,” Detective Williams said.

  “Doesn’t ring a bell,” the judge said, gently rocking in his chair. “What do you want the warrant for?”

  “We’d like to listen in when the will is read,” the detective said. “The distribution of Peters’ assets isn’t outlined in the will. We think it’s going to be a major surprise for all the beneficiaries.”

  “And you want to see if somebody tips their hand?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Detective Williams said. “And we’re hoping to make some sense of what the heck is going on.”

  “Lamplighter. A murderer? He never struck me as the type. Sleazeball, sure. But a murderer?”

  “Our guess is there’s a lot of money that’s about to change hands,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Probably a good guess,” the judge said, nodding. “What did this guy Peters do?”

  “He was a genetic engineer,” Detective Williams said. “And he did a lot of research.”

  “Is there money in that?” the judge said.

  “If there is, we don’t have a clue how he made it,” Chief Abrams said. “There are a lot of questions and loose ends we need to deal with.”

  “And you think listening in on the reading is going to help?”

  “We do, sir,” Detective Williams said.

  “When’s the reading?”

  “We met with Lamplighter yesterday. And he said he was going to set it up soon,” Detective Williams said.

  “After that, he said he plans on leaving the area,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Take the money and run?” the judge said.

  “That’s what it looks like,” the Chief said. “Assuming he can duck murder charges.”

  Judge Thompson again stared off, deep in thought. Then he focused on me.

  “How the heck did you get sucked up in this thing?”

  “Peters has been breeding wolves with dogs,” I said. “Creating hybrids. It was one of his research interests.”

  “That’s despicable,” Judge Thompson said, shaking his head. “How many did he have?”

  “We found about twenty,” I said. “At least three, maybe four generations. We’re still not sure what percentage of wolf the offspring have. He’s been using two purebred males.”

  “What’s he been breeding them with?” the judge said.

  “Utonagans, primarily,” I said. “You familiar with the breed?”

  “They’re the ones that were crossbred to look like wolves but act like dogs?”

  “That’s them,” I said.

  “I just read a story the other day about some folks who thought one of those hybrids would make a great family dog.”

  “Big mistake,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Yeah,” the judge said. “They don’t get much bigger. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids.”

  “What happened?” I said.

  “The hybrid killed their four-year-old.”

  “Geez,” I grunted.

  “What are you going to do with them?” the judge said.

  “Long-term, we’re not sure,” I said. “But for now, we’re keeping a close eye on them. And they’re caged.”

  “At the Doggy Inn?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “No, they’re out in the woods at a hunting lodge Peters somehow came into possession of,” I said. “We’ve got a new vet running our animal shelter. She’s staying there until we figure something out.”

  The judge studied my face closely then motioned for me to continue.

  “You’re holding something back,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Our new vet used to be Peters’ girlfriend,” I said softly. “And she’s also named in his will.”

  “Wow. How about tha
t?” he said, pursing his lips. “It looks like you guys caught a juicy one.”

  “Yes, we did,” Detective Williams said. “What do you think about the warrant, Your Honor?”

  “Oh, you’ll get a warrant,” Judge Thompson said. “I just wish I could be there to listen in.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” Detective Williams said.

  “I was joking, Detective. But I will want to hear the recording.”

  The judge got out of his chair and pulled his robe on.

  “Stop back in a couple of hours,” he said. “I’ll have my assistant pull something together. She’ll have it at her desk.”

  “Thank you, Judge Thompson.”

  “Lamplighter,” he said, shaking his head as he left the office through a side door.

  Chapter 14

  I put the SUV in park and slowly climbed out. My right foot landed in three inches of slush covered by skim ice, and I grimaced expecting the worst. But it wasn’t deep enough to cover my boots and I relaxed. I made my way to the back of the vehicle and opened the hatch.

  “Crunchy slush,” Josie said, shaking her head as she looked down at her feet. “My favorite.”

  “Yeah, it’s a mess,” I said, waving to Rooster who was making his way toward us. “But don’t worry. In a few weeks, you’ll have something even better to deal with.”

  “Rain and mud,” Josie said, then gave Rooster a hug. “How’s it going?”

  “Not bad,” Rooster said, grabbing the three bags of groceries. “The nightlife will never kill you, but I’ve been sleeping like a baby.”

  We followed him up the back steps, and I paused when I reached the porch to take a look at the row of cages where most of the animals were warily staring up at us.

  “How are they doing?” I said.

  “Apart from being caged up, they’re fine,” Rooster said. “But you have to keep a close eye on the two wolves. Most of the time they’re cautious and keep their distance. But if you get too close, they’re not shy about letting you know.”

  “The poor things,” I said.

  “You come up with any ideas about what to do with them?” Rooster said.

  “Not yet.”

  “There aren’t a lot of options,” Josie said, holding the door open for us.

  “We’ve got a little surprise for you,” Rooster said, stomping slush off his boots.