“Rita doesn’t drink,” Conrad stated as he followed them to the door.
“She was drinking last night. She stumbled around, slid down the wall, was incoherent part of the time, and eventually passed out.” Marlee recalled what a train wreck Rita had been the night before and was surprised she would even be out of bed by now, let alone packed up and moved out.
“Rita can’t drink. She’s severely allergic to it and any alcohol whatsoever can be deadly for her. The last time she had any alcohol was in high school. That’s when we found out she was sick. She went into anaphylactic shock and nearly died because of the beer she drank that night.” Conrad was sincere in his statements when recalling his sister’s history.
“But we saw her with a drink in her hand,” Marlee said recalling the amber liquid in the highball glass that Rita held.
“All Rita drinks is water, coffee, and diet cream soda. Nothing else.” Conrad insisted.
Back at Marlee’s house, they tried to make some sense of Conrad’s account of Rita’s departure. “Either he’s lying to us, or Rita was lying about being fired,” Hector said.
“The only thing I know for sure is that Conrad, Rita, and Abby are compulsive liars. They have all lied to me at one point or another. I have no idea what’s true and what’s a lie anymore.” A look of disgust passed across Marlee’s face. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was a liar.
“What did you make of Conrad’s story about Rita not drinking? I’d lay money on her being drunk last night. Either that or she should win an Academy Award,” Hector said.
“It seemed like she was drunk, but maybe it was diet cream soda in the glass. I didn’t smell any alcohol on her breath when I helped her off the floor.” Marlee recalled the events of the previous night and tried to reframe them using the story Conrad gave them. “Even if she didn’t drink, she would have a fair idea of what it’s like to be drunk. She sees Conrad drunk all the time. All she would have to do is imitate him.”
Hector thought about Marlee’s assertions. “You know, you might be right about all of it. I didn’t smell alcohol either. I think we were played!”
“So was she lying about Conrad’s scheme to coerce Bridget into stealing the urn or did she make that up too?” Marlee asked, more to herself than to Hector.
“I don’t know. One thing I’d put money on is that she hates her brother.”
“Yep, I’d say so too. When she talked about being his maid, or how he bought her out of their company, her whole body would tense up with an inner rage,” Marlee said. “I don’t know if Conrad is guilty of anything, but I know for sure that Rita can’t stand him and is probably looking to hurt him in some way, either financially or legally,” Marlee said.
“Let’s say Conrad is innocent. Then who wrecked Bridget’s finances and threatened to harm her family if she didn’t steal the urn?” Hector asked as he grabbed Marlee’s hand and pulled her onto the couch with him.
“Dammit! The whole Thayer family is driving me crazy.” Marlee was at her wit’s end. A solid argument could be made for either Conrad or Rita as the one behind the illegal activity. One thing she knew for sure, one of them was involved.
“This whole thing is complicated enough that there has to be at least two people involved. Maybe more,” Hector said.
“One of the people is either Conrad or Rita. I don’t think they would be working together on this since Rita hates Conrad.” Marlee’s jaw dropped as she thought more about Rita’s need for revenge. “Or maybe that’s more acting on her part. They could be involved in the scheme together!”
“I don’t think so, Marlee,” Hector said. “If they were in on it together, Rita wouldn’t have pointed us toward Conrad as the culprit.”
“Unless she’s using double-secret psychology on us,” Marlee said without a trace of humor.
Two hours later, Marlee woke up with a kink in her neck. She’d fallen asleep on the couch while she and Hector were watching a CSI marathon. He was at the dining room table going over the crime chart and jotting down notes.
“I guess I needed a nap to compensate for getting up so early,” Marlee mumbled on her way to the kitchen to retrieve a Diet Pepsi. “What time is it?” She’d slept hard and had no idea if she’d been asleep for five minutes or five hours.
“It’s noon. Let’s go get some lunch. I have some big news for you,” Hector said, smiling as he put his notes in his briefcase.
“Sure,” Marlee said, always ready for a meal, especially one she didn’t have to prepare. She gulped down her pop, brushed her teeth, and was ready to go in a matter of minutes.
At the Chit Chat, a small family-owned diner, they sipped on ice tea while waiting for their lunch plates to arrive at the booth. They both ordered the special, which consisted of a pulled pork sandwich, kettle chips, and a giant dill pickle. “I have a confession to make,” Hector said, looking almost bashful as he spoke.
Marlee raised her eyebrows. Anytime someone spoke of a confession or a surprise, it almost always turned out bad. She and Hector had been officially dating for less than a day, and he was already going to wreck it.
“I came here to see you, but I was here for another reason too. I had a job interview with the Elmwood Police Department. They had an opening for a detective since Gonzalez just moved to Minneapolis. I applied, had an interview, and just got a call a little bit ago offering me the job.” Hector waited for Marlee to speak, unsure of her reaction.
Marlee held her breath. Things were moving so fast. She’d agreed to a long-distance relationship with Hector in which she thought she’d see him a couple weekends each month. Now, he was moving to Elmwood and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “That’s great,” she said, hoping he believed her somewhat-faked enthusiasm. “When do you start?”
Hector smiled, believing Marlee was fully on board with his move. “April first is my start date. That gives me time to finish up in Chamberlain and get my stuff moved here.”
The idea began to grow on Marlee as she thought about it. Having him in town wouldn’t automatically mean he would be intruding in her space all the time. If he became too clingy, she would just have to set some boundaries early on. “Hector, I’m really happy for you. Happy for us. This will be a whole new adventure!”
He nodded in such a vigorous manner that he had to adjust his glasses afterward. “I was thinking about getting an apartment, but then I thought maybe we should talk about moving in together.”
Sometimes help comes from those you trust the least.
Chapter 27
Live together? It didn’t happen often, but Marlee was now without words. She knew Hector expected her to jump on board with his plan, yet she didn’t want a roommate. She and Hector needed to experience dating while living in the same town before they jumped into cohabitation. Unsure of what to say, Marlee did the only reasonable thing one could in that circumstance. She tipped over her ice tea.
“Oh, no!” Marlee shouted as she grabbed for her napkin to soak up the spill. Tea and ice cubes were splayed across the table of their booth, and the tea ran off the side. She motioned for the waitress to come over with more napkins. “Hector, did I spill on you? I’m so sorry.” Marlee continued to babble on about her klutziness until their server appeared with a stack of paper napkins and another glass of ice tea for Marlee.
After the drink was cleaned up, their food immediately arrived at the table. Marlee continued to chatter on about their meals, the weather, and anything else she could possibly think of so that they wouldn’t have to talk about Hector moving in with her. Hector reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“I know this is a big decision and it makes you nervous. That’s okay. I’m not looking for an answer right this minute,” he said. “I know you like being on your own, and this would be a huge change for you. Let’s just take some time to think on it.”
Marlee nodded, appreciative that Hector wasn’t pressing her for a decision right that moment. Because if he had insi
sted on an answer, Marlee would have told him “no.” “It’s a lot to take in,” she said, as every fiber of her being told her that living together right now was a bad idea.
They finished their meal in silence and returned to work on the crime chart at Marlee’s house. “I wonder where Rita went,” Hector mumbled, as he looked at the list of names and motivations for the crime.
“Conrad said he didn’t know, but of course, that could be a lie. Maybe Abby has an idea where her aunt is,” Marlee suggested, already grabbing her cell phone to set up a meeting with Bridget’s assistant.
“She might know. Or she might just tell one lie after another.”
Abby was in her office on the Marymount campus, which seemed to be her home away from home. Hector and Marlee met her outside the Amos Building, and she let them inside. She chatted about her classes and The Showcase. Once in her office, they all sat around a now-tidy work space.
“Did you ever find the provenance for the urn?” Marlee asked.
“No, and I’m sure it was in the file at one point,” Abby said, motioning to a pile of papers.
“According to your Aunt Rita, she was the previous owner. Did you know that?” Hector stared at Abby, as if daring her to lie to him.
“No, I didn’t know that. I never spent any time looking at the provenance, I just remember seeing the document in the file,” Abby said, avoiding Hector’s stare.
“Really? You had no idea your aunt was the previous owner? I find that a bit hard to believe,” Hector said, not breaking his intense gaze.
“Well, I guess I sort of knew…” Abby backpedaled as usual when caught in a lie. They pressed her for more information, but either she was telling the truth or sticking to the final story she’d told.
“Where’s your aunt now? We just met with Conrad, and he said she left in the night without telling him where she was going.” Marlee leaned in closer toward Abby, hoping the reduction in personal space would put even more pressure on the art student.
“I don’t know for sure. Uncle Conrad has a cabin out at Mina Lake. I know she had a key to it,” Abby stated. “I have a key too.” She held up her braided key chain which held twelve keys of various sizes and shapes.
“Let’s go check it out,” Marlee said.
Abby rode with Hector and Marlee so she could direct them to the cabin at Mina Lake. Some of the lake cabin owners lived there year-round, while others only used their cabins during the summer. Judging by the lack of activity in the area, not many people were at their lake cabins that January afternoon.
They wound along the lake to a small, nondescript white cabin with green shutters. It looked to be in good repair from the outside, which was in contrast the cabin next to it, with peeling paint and a cracked front window. Abby led them to a side door and opened it with her key.
By all accounts, the cabin hadn’t been occupied in a while. Cobwebs decorated the corners of the ceiling, and the air was stuffy. The thermostat was turned down, just keeping the house warm enough so that the pipes didn’t burst. Marlee pulled her coat tighter in hopes of saving some of her body heat. It seemed almost as cold in the house as it did outside, although she knew that couldn’t really be the case.
They walked around the cabin, admiring the living room décor. Terry Redlin paintings of birds and old houses hung on the brown-paneled walls. Matching forest-green La-Z-Boy chairs faced the stone fireplace, and a large-screen television hung above it.
A sound from a back room caught their attention, and they rushed to see what had caused it. A faint noise continued from behind the closed door. Hector was the first through the door, his gun in hand. Marlee and Abby followed closely behind, anxious to see what caused the commotion.
Before them, on a quilt-covered king-sized bed, lay three cats huddled together for warmth. Upon hearing the trio enter the room, the feral animals jumped from their resting position and fled under the bed.
Marlee, Hector, and Abby all broke out in laughter. They thought they’d found Rita’s hiding place, but instead stumbled across wild cats that had found a way inside and made their winter home in Conrad’s cabin. Further search of the cabin revealed nothing out of the ordinary and they left.
As they backed out of the driveway, Abby suggested another spot Rita might have gone. “Let’s check out Uncle Conrad’s fishing shack. It’s only about a mile up the road.”
“He likes ice fishing?” Marlee asked.
“He likes it, but Aunt Rita absolutely loves it. She spends much more time out here than Uncle Conrad,” Abby reported. “It’s not my thing, but she would spend all winter out here if she could.”
Marlee made a face. Every time she thought she had Conrad and Rita figured out, another odd characteristic or strange hobby came to the forefront. “All right. Let’s go.”
The three traveled along the winding road to an area devoid of cabins. A few barren trees lined the shore but couldn’t obscure the six fishing shacks on the frozen lake. They parked near the shore next to a dirty, older-model Buick. They made their way to the shack, careful not to slip on the ice.
“It’s this one right here,” Abby said pointing to a gray shack, not much different from any of the others.
Marlee and Hector paused, unsure of the protocol when entering an ice shack. Did one knock first, call out a greeting, or just barge in? They opted for barging in. The sight before them was something they could not have predicted.
Clad in heavy coats, knit caps, and insulated gloves were Rita Thayer and Derrek Geppert, the part-time employee with Yellow Tail Security. They were wrapped in a passionate embrace and didn’t notice the visitors until Hector cleared his throat.
“What are you doing here?” Rita hissed.
“We came to look for you, Aunt Rita,” Abby said with a puzzled look. “We were worried that you didn’t have any place to go.”
“You needn’t worry about me,” Rita said, a cold look in her eyes. She unwrapped herself from Derek’s arms, and they both stood up. She dropped her glove and stopped to pick it up. When Rita returned to an upright position, she held a gun in her hand.
“Rita! What are you doing? Marlee shrieked. “We came to help you!”
Hector, the voice of calm and reason said, “Put the gun down, Rita. We’re not here to hurt you. We just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He held his hand out toward Rita, gesturing for her to hand him the gun.
“Nice try,” Derek said, getting in on the action. He pushed Rita toward the door of the fishing shack and shoved Abby outside. Hector and Marlee were still in the ice shack. “Hand over your car keys,” Derek ordered.
With reluctance, Marlee fished her key chain out of her coat pocket and handed it over to Derek. “What are you going to do? You can’t leave us out here. It’s freezing.”
With a smirk, Derek slammed the door shut on the ice shack. He thrust a crowbar through the door latch on the outside. “Have fun fishing!” he called out as he, Rita, and Abby left.
Hector grabbed the door, giving it a shove to open it. The door was blocked from the outside, and they were trapped. They had both left their cell phones in Marlee’s vehicle, which was now in the possession of Derek, Abby, and Rita. The temperature hovered around zero, and a brisk wind made it all the more unbearable. If they didn’t get out of the ice shack soon, they would freeze to death. Marlee and Hector both wore coats, but neither was dressed warmly enough to be outside for any length of time. By her calculations, they had an hour at most before frostbite would set in.
Life seems so much easier for everyone else. Why do I always draw the short straw?
Chapter 28
A few more shoves of the door were fruitless, and Hector sat down on the old orange-flowered couch in the shack. Marlee slumped down beside him, unsure of their next move.
“Abby led us out here. This was all a setup.” Marlee was disgusted with herself for ever believing anything Abby had to say.
“And we fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” Hector growled, una
ware that he’d made a fishing joke.
“Abby, Rita, and Derek were in on this all along. Maybe Conrad, Sean, and others are involved too,” Marlee said. “I knew this scheme would take more than one person to pull off, but I didn’t think it would involve all of the suspects.”
“We don’t know for sure that anyone else is in on it. But we don’t know that they aren’t either.” Hector sighed.
“There must be some way for us to get out of here. This shack really doesn’t look all that sturdy,” Marlee said as she searched the small interior. “Aha!” she called out, lifting a hatchet out of a tool box in the corner.
“I don’t even want to know why they had a hatchet,” Hector said as he took the bladed tool from Marlee and began chopping at the door. It was tedious work, and they took turns chopping, but they finally made a hole in the door. Hector stuck his arm through the opening and lifted the crowbar that was holding the door shut.
The two spilled from the ice shack, aware that it had been fifteen minutes since Rita, Abby, and Derek left. Still, they gazed all around hoping to catch a glimpse of the criminals.
The old Buick was still parked along the shore near where her SUV had been parked. “It’s probably Derek’s car,” she said, nodding toward the vehicle. They tried all four doors, and it was locked. The windows were tinted, so it was difficult to see inside. Marlee hunched over and peered through the driver’s side window but couldn’t see anything other than fast food bags, empty beer cans, and other refuse.
“Hey, you damn kids get away from my car!” yelled a grizzled old man who was fast approaching them.
“Oh, sorry. We thought it belonged to someone else,” Hector said as he and Marlee both backed away from the car.
“What are you kids doing out here?” the old man asked, looking around and seeing no other vehicles. “You’ll freeze your muffins!” Clad in Carhart coveralls, a winter coat, and insulated cap and gloves, he was in no danger of freezing.
Art of Deception Page 23
