MURDEROUS MORNING: A heart-stopping crime novel with a stunning end.

by Bernadette Calonego

  “I want to get back to Whatou Lake as quickly as possible.”

  27

  The flight back in the floatplane seemed really long to Tessa. When she finally put her feet on the ground at the harbor, she looked at the news on her cell phone.

  Ron Halprin had written back: Tell me briefly what this is about.

  Frustrated, she threw back her head. She couldn’t possibly put her suspicions in a text message. A man handed her the backpack. She turned around and saw a person at the edge of the parking lot.

  “Dad,” she called from far away. “How did you know . . . ?”

  They hugged, both relieved and distraught at the same time.

  “Savannah saw your text message. I called Kratz and hoped you would be flying back with him today.”

  When they approached the Pathfinder, Tessa noticed the two dogs in the back wagging their tails. Her father hadn’t yet given them over to Harrison Miller. As they traveled toward Whatou Lake, she told him about the conversations with Noreen Chelin and Lynn Prett. “Lynn said she thought Fran had gotten out of control,” she closed her report. “Didn’t you notice that yourself?”

  Her father sighed. “We hardly saw her anymore.”

  But she saw other people, Tessa remembered. I’ve gotta talk with Ron Halprin.

  This thought was so important to her that she forgot to tell her father about the car ride with Harrison Miller. And she forgot to ask him where he’d been with the dogs that afternoon when his car was parked in front of the house.

  “Can we quickly stop at the police station, Dad?”

  Her father nodded.

  She regretted her decision right away when she saw a group of reporters and other TV people standing in front of the entrance to the police station. Kenneth Griffins made a quick decision. “I’m going to drive around the corner and wait in a side street.”

  She pulled up the hood of her windbreaker, put on her sunglasses, and ran as fast as she could up the stairs, past the journalists. Inside she took off her shades.

  “I’m Tessa Griffins, Fran Miller’s sister,” she said to the two officials who were standing behind the counter. “Can I talk to Sergeant Halprin?”

  The two men looked her over. A messy-haired woman with dry lips and tired eyes, wearing track pants and a windbreaker.

  “Sergeant Halprin isn’t here,” one of the policemen said. “None of them are here.”

  “They’re still out at the crime scene?” she asked.

  The policeman stayed vague. “Probably. But that’s closed off to everybody. The best thing for you is to send a text to Sergeant Halprin.”

  I’ve already done that, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. “Is there a back exit?” she asked. “Because of the media people.”

  “Sure,” the second policeman said, and led her to it.

  The Pathfinder was waiting two doors down. Tessa let herself fall into the passenger seat. “It looks like the sergeant is back at the farm.”

  Kenneth Griffins took a shortcut to the highway. “I’m supposed to give these dogs a run, where nobody will see them.”

  “There’s a grizzly hanging around in Tennigan Park,” she warned him. “Along the river maybe?”

  “No, it’s very likely we would run into somebody there.”

  “By the lake, then?”

  Her father shook his head. “Too exposed.” He kept thinking. “Maybe at Bob’s?”

  Tessa knew who he was talking about. Bob Barker’s piece of land was on the west side of the river, hidden in a side valley. Since Bob’s house had burned down a couple of years ago, the old man lived with his sister in Whatou Lake. Earlier the land had been for sale. Tessa and her father had gone to look at it. There had been other potential buyers who had been interested. In the end, Bob decided for reasons that weren’t quite clear not to sell. A dirt road still led to his abandoned property. There the dogs could run around as much as they wanted.

  Kenneth Griffins had already driven by Harrison Miller’s pretentious villa. There weren’t any more houses off the highway. The riverbed narrowed and the mountains got closer. There certainly weren’t going to be any journalists showing up here.

  Tessa pushed down her hood and looked at her father. “Where were you this afternoon? The car was there, but you and the dogs weren’t.”

  “I was in your cabin in the woods. I had to get some peace and quiet in order to think things over.”

  “With the dogs?”

  He nodded. “Otherwise, Harrison Miller would have come by and stolen them when nobody was in the house.”

  “You’ve got that right.” She explained to her father that the mayor had turned up at the Griffins’ house because of the dogs. She also described how he had blown his lid during the ride to the floatplane. But she didn’t tell him about Miller’s worst accusation.

  Why don’t you ask your father where he’s hidden her so she can’t reveal anything?

  They were silent until they reached the road that went to Bob’s property. Kenneth Griffins drove by a No Trespassing sign and parked the Pathfinder on the edge of the dirt road. Tessa reached over the back seat for the dog leashes.

  “We can just let them run around here,” Kenneth Griffins said.

  Tessa didn’t agree. “We don’t know the dogs very well. We don’t know if they’ll come back when we call them.”

  Despite her protests, her father opened the back door. The German shepherd was in no hurry and sniffed around near the car. The husky mix jumped out and ran up the driveway.

  “He’ll come back,” her father said when he saw her worried face. “Hank has trained him really well.”

  Tessa wasn’t so sure. In any case she took the leashes with her and followed the curving path. The German shepherd trotted a couple of steps ahead of them. Suddenly they heard the husky mix barking excitedly.

  “Holy shit,” Tessa cried out. “It got to be a grizzly.”

  The German shepherd shot up the path until she was out of sight. Kenneth Griffins wasn’t ruffled. “She’s probably chased a squirrel up a tree.”

  How come he wasn’t worried? Tessa was irritated. He was a very good doctor, but he didn’t know anything about dogs. And this time she didn’t have a pistol with her.

  The trail took a bend. Two old shacks came into view. The German shepherd sprang onto the door of the shack on the left and scratched it with her claws. The husky mix was still barking wildly.

  Kenneth Griffins stopped where he was. “What a strange smell.”

  Tessa realized what he was talking about. “It smells just like the last time. Is a dead moose lying around here somewhere?”

  “The smell is coming from here,” her father answered and pointed at the shack in front of them. At the other shack’s door, somebody had painted a big T inside a circle. After a few more steps, the smell became so unbearable that Tessa instinctively tried to turn away.

  “The dogs,” her father called as he went over to the husky and put it on a leash. Tessa held her breath and pulled the German shepherd away from the door with the terrible smell.

  She handed the leash to her father. “Hold tight to her, I’m going to take a look.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea . . .” Kenneth Griffin’s words were drowned out by the wild barking.

  She pulled her hood sideways over her nose and mouth and went up to the door. She rattled the rusty lock and stumbled backward when the door immediately gave way. Her eyes had to adjust to the dark. Then she saw something bright in the corner. With a hammering heart, she took a couple of steps over to it.

  In a second, she recognized what it was. The body lay on its back, still clad in a sweater and blue jeans.

  “Fran!” Tessa screamed, horrified. She kneeled down and tried to find a pulse on Fran’s neck, although she already knew that her half sister was dead. The body felt cold and stiff.

  Fran’s mouth was partly open, also her eyes. Strands of her blond hair covered a part of her face. Tessa pushed th
em softly away.

  She didn’t see any blood, and there were no obvious wounds. It was as if Fran had simply gone to rest here.

  Her father called from outside. There was panic in his voice. She couldn’t understand anything because the dogs were barking so loudly.

  She staggered outside and fell to her knees.

  28

  In the following hours, Tessa felt like she was living in a nightmare. She would have liked to spare her father the sight of the body, but he insisted on it. While Tessa held the dogs’ leashes, he confirmed the death of his foster daughter. She reminded him that this was the scene of a crime and that there should be no contamination. In vain. She watched how he stroked Fran’s face. Now they would find DNA from her and her father on the body.

  In order to get a cell phone connection, they had to drive back to the main road. Tessa could hardly bear leaving Fran back in the shack. But she wouldn’t let her father drive off alone. His face was ashen gray and he looked dazed. He also wasn’t in any condition to deal with hysterical dogs.

  Tessa sat down in the grass, off to the side, while people in white protective suits hurried about. A police photographer came out of the shack with his camera. Ron Halprin was talking with the officer who had visited her mother. Halprin’s team had been brought in by helicopter. One of his men had driven away with her father and the dogs in a police van. He wanted to write down Kenneth Griffins’s witness statement. Tessa hated all the busyness around her. At least Fran was no longer alone. Nobody could harm her anymore. That was over. Her body was in a safe place. It was a tiny consolation she could hold on to.

  “I’m sorry for you and your family.” Halprin stood in front of her.

  She nodded weakly. The sergeant sat down next to her in the grass. “Do you think you’re able to answer some questions?”

  She nodded again.

  He cleared his throat. “I have to tape this conversation. You have to briefly confirm that you are aware of that. Later they will give the statement for you to sign.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  The other officer came over to them. “Corporal Kate Jennings is also listening,” he said. He gave Tessa a tiny microphone. “Tell me, to start off: Why did you and your father come here?”

  She couldn’t recognize her own voice as she answered the sergeant in detail. The dogs. The smell. The discovery.

  “Actually somebody should have searched here long ago,” she finished off her description. “We should have thought of that right away. The place is remote but not far away from Whatou Lake. And you can reach it with a pickup.”

  “Why a pickup?”

  “Can also be an SUV. Somebody brought her here when she was already dead.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “By the way she was lying there. In the shack I saw some evidence that she had been dragged.”

  “How do you think that could have happened?”

  She looked the sergeant straight in the eyes. “I don’t want to suspect anyone who might be innocent. You’ll certainly talk to Bob Barker.”

  “Who knows about this place other than Bob Barker?”

  Tessa hugged her knees. “A lot of people in Whatou Lake. A few years ago Barker wanted to sell the property. You could come and look at it. Dad and I also came out here.”

  Halprin shot a glance at the police officer. “Was there a real estate agent?”

  “Yes, Hogan Dole did that. But we just drove out to the property, like we did today, without Hogan Dole, because we didn’t want to run into him.”

  Halprin was already asking the next question: “Have you been out here since then?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “And your father?”

  “That I don’t know.” They will certainly question him about that.

  “Do you think that Fran Miller has ever been here?”

  “I . . . I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so.”

  “Did she know Bob Barker?”

  “Yes, just like all of us knew him. That means not very well. At least I don’t think she ever had anything to do with him personally.” With her hand she picked some pieces of grass. “I didn’t see any injuries. No wounds. How did Fran actually die?”

  “We’ll clear that up. Do you have any suspicions?”

  Overwhelmed, she shook her head and threw her arms again around her knees. People walked toward the shack. They were carrying a stretcher.

  Halprin watched the scene without seeming to be distracted. “Why did you want to talk to me today?”

  She discreetly studied his hands, which looked like a farmer’s hands. She would have felt better if his hands had been holding her. She would have liked some physical contact, some warm skin. A safe place in this sea of despair that threatened to drown her.

  She had to gather her thoughts in order to give him an answer. She took some shallow breaths before she spoke: “Something occurred to me today. Maybe Fran really was at Robert Pleeke’s funeral home. Not because of the coffins but because of Melanie Pleeke. That’s his wife. Noreen Chelin told me that Fran was at the doctor’s because of chronic pain, but the doctor apparently couldn’t help her.” She loosened her arms around her knees and stretched her legs. The ground felt cool. Despite the light, evening had arrived.

  “Melanie Pleeke is probably a quack . . . Cliff Bight told me that she works in black magic. Past-life experiences. Contact with the other side. Stuff like that.”

  “Cliff Bight?”

  “He works for Lionel Miller’s firm. Apparently Fran needed help. Maybe she had become more unbalanced than we thought.”

  Halprin remained silent for a few seconds, then he asked: “When did you talk with Tsaytis Chelin’s wife?”

  The white-clad health workers carried Fran in a body bag out of the shack and into the ambulance. With her last bit of strength, Tessa told Halprin about her visit to Watershed Lodge. When she started describing the boat trip with Lynn Prett, one of the white-clad people waved to Halprin.

  “We’ll continue this questioning later,” he said and got up.

  “Anytime.” Tessa handed him the microphone. Halprin reached out when he saw that she had trouble standing up. Her legs felt like rubber.

  He held on to her fingers for a very brief time and looked into her eyes. “We’ve already talked to Melanie Pleeke. She came to us.”

  When he convinced himself that she could stand by herself, he turned to the RCMP officer. “Corporal, would you take Miss Griffins home?”

  Exhausted, Tessa got into the police car. Kate Jennings started the motor and followed the ambulance carrying Fran’s body, which was moving along quickly in front of them. Tessa could no longer keep control of her emotions. When they got to the highway, the tears rolled down her cheeks and she was shaken by sobs.

  “Should I stop?” the officer asked.

  Tessa nodded without saying anything. Everything came out. The shock, the tension, the horror. Only slowly the shaking receded. The RCMP officer handed her a handkerchief and otherwise left her in peace. Tessa was thankful for that.

  After several long minutes, she had the feeling that she had herself somewhat under control. She needed strength for what awaited her at her parents’ house.

  29

  Tessa opened the door to the house, but no dogs came running. It was strangely quiet inside. Only one of Fran’s cats waited on the stairs.

  “Hello?” Tessa called out with a pounding heart and went into the kitchen.

  There they all sat, Savannah and her parents, with drained, empty faces. They looked at her with the same red-rimmed eyes that she had seen in herself in the side mirror of the police car. Nobody had yet said anything to her, and the silence felt like a barbed-wire barrier. She would have really liked to hug her parents, and they certainly all would have cried and held each other tight. But now she was afraid to do that.

  Finally her mother said: “How did Fran look?”

  Tessa glanced at her father, who had tur
ned his face away. He seemed to have stepped out of the picture. Hadn’t he told Mom everything?

  “She looked as if she had fallen asleep.” Tessa was amazed that her voice almost sounded normal, although weak and deeper.

  “Had she been murdered?”

  “The police haven’t said.”

  “What do you think? You actually saw Fran.” Her mother sounded aggressive, but Tessa knew that pain was speaking in her voice.

  “I didn’t see any wounds, no blood. No sign that she had been strangled or . . . anything. I think somebody brought her there after she was already dead.”

  “How long do you think she had been dead?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a few days.” Tessa sat down, depleted. “Dad, say something yourself.”

  Her father raised his eyes. It was the look of a broken man. “Sorry. It’s as if my brain has closed up shop.” He looked down again at the tabletop. His words came softly: “I already told your mother. I think it might have been four to five days.”

  He wasn’t a forensic doctor, but he had experience with dead bodies.

  “So maybe Fran died on the same day as Hank and the children.” Martha Griffins soberly threw this possibility out into the room. “Do you think Bob Barker has something to do with all this?”

  Now her husband spoke up. “Darling, Bob Barker has been in the hospital for the last few weeks. He’s in pretty bad shape. He couldn’t possibly load a body into a pickup and carry it to the shack.”

  Savannah got up and turned to Tessa. “You look like you could use a shower. Would you like something to eat?” She started working at the stove.

  Tessa kept her eyes on her father. “Did you hear anything else from the police? Ron Halprin didn’t tell me anything.”

  Her father shrugged helplessly. “No, they’re not revealing anything.” The question that she didn’t dare to ask was: What did you reveal to the police when you were being questioned?

  Savannah crossed her arms and leaned on the counter. “I know that they’re going to hold a press conference tomorrow afternoon. That’s something we have to go to.”