“Your grandfather told you all this?” said Lew.
“Yes. He said maybe he was wrong to have forced that marriage, forced my mother to have me—but having me around made it okay with him.” Blue laughed.
“Now I had a better understanding of why Mother was so
angry with me, but I didn’t know what to do about it. Keep in mind I was eighteen and still living in the rehab community. Shortly after my grandfather died, my regular therapist became ill and I was assigned to a different psychologist, a woman who specialized in working with people with personality disorders.
“She was very interested in hearing about my mother—her mood swings, her accusations, the paranoia, the rages. She was the first person who wanted to hear every detail. She asked lots of questions, I cried. But when we were done, she gave me a big hug and sat me down to explain that none of my mother’s behavior was my fault. She couldn’t tell me the source of my mother’s problems. Was she schizophrenic? Was she bi-polar? Had she been normal as child but changed in adolescence? No answers to that.
“But the psychologist had this great line—she said ‘Blue, you have to understand that people with personality disorders think that they’re perfectly normal—and you’re nuts. You are never going to convince them otherwise.’ Those are the words that changed my life.
“All of a sudden I could step back and see my mother with new eyes. I could take that abusive behavior and set it aside. I could try to find a few things about her that I could like—maybe even love.”
“And?” said Lew.
“I’m working on it,” said Blue with a rueful smile. “Maybe her good taste?”
“Her interest in helping the Dark Sky sisters,” said Osborne.
“I have a hard time with that,” said Blue. “Frances I can deal with even though you can barely carry on a conversation with her—but that Josie. Mother adored her. I dunno, I guess if I’m fair, I’d have to say they were Mother’s way of feeling needed.
“Now, please, I’ve been through enough therapy to be honest with myself so I’m working hard to get past my feelings about
Josie. It’s not her fault that Mother made such a deal over her. Mother’s death, Mildred murdered—those poor girls are so alone right now and I feel sorry for them. So I’m trying. I was happy to help out last night. They needed a place to stay and there was plenty of room over at the Murphys’. The last thing either one of them needs right now is for me to come down on them. Still,” said Blue with a wry grin, “it was Frances who helped me with breakfast.
“And it’s Mother who kept shoving Josie at me. Not Josie herself. That’s why I showed you her room and the album and made you sit through my emotional history here—because I think it’s critical that you see what an emotionally disturbed person my mother was. But while she couldn’t hurt me—not anymore—that doesn’t mean she didn’t hurt others. She did. Sometimes I could stop her, sometimes Andy could. But we weren’t around her all the time.”
“She was hard on the people working here? The housekeeper, the caretaker?”
“Yes, she could be nice one minute—holler at them the next. But I don’t think anyone here would have hurt her. They figured out how to manage her. plus she paid them well.”
“She paid them to be abused,” said Lew.
“You could put it that way.”
“Andy, too?”
“Oh yes, but he was artful at avoiding her.” Blue lowered her voice and pointed towards the door to the den, reminding them that Andy was just a room away.
“He doesn’t know, by the way, that you know he’s not your father,” whispered Lew.
“He does now. Just before you and Dr. Osborne got here today, he tried to tell me. He was afraid that it would come out in the investigation and upset me. I told him I’ve known for years. He was pretty shocked.”
“That’s why you’re calling him ‘Andy’ instead of ‘Dad’?” said Osborne.
“You noticed,” said Blue, surprised.
“That’s why Doc’s here,” said Lew, throwing Osborne an appreciative glance. “I listen for the answers to my questions while he’s an ear for things I may miss. But, tell me, Blue, why didn’t you tell Andy that you knew about your adoption a long time ago?”
“I was afraid he might tell Mother that I knew and who knows what fresh hell that might have caused. I saw no reason to rock the boat.”
A sudden commotion outside—a loud thumping accompanied by the barking of dogs, caused all three to leap from their chairs and run to the kitchen door. The green pick-up had pulled in next to Lew’s cruiser and was idling. Two golden retrievers raced back and forth in the truck’s deep-walled bed while three heads could be seen inside the extended cab. The two in the front seat were bouncing to strains of raucous music. The third head was bent, pushing its way past the front seat to the door.
CHAPTER 22
One of the silhouetted heads turned out to be Frances Dark Sky, who was struggling to get out of the truck’s rear seat. She jumped from the passenger side only to turn an ankle as she landed, ending up on hands and knees. Before Osborne could rush down the porch steps to give her a hand, she had leapt to her feet.
“Frances, are you okay?” said Blue from behind Osborne. Frances gave an embarrassed wave of her hand and stepped back from the truck, eyes on the ground.
The driver’s side door opened slowly, music blaring into the deepening shadows of the afternoon. Out popped a short, chunky man with a head that seemed massive thanks to a halo of blonde curls in desperate need of a trim. He wore a denim jacket, the kind lined with fake sheepskin, which hung open to expose a shapeless grey wool sweater and baggy jeans riding low on his hips. Osborne guessed him to be somewhere in his early to mid-twenties.
“Jake Cahak?” said Lew, stepping down from the porch steps and advancing towards the man. “I’m Chief Ferris with the Loon Lake Police—like to ask you a few questions.”
“Yep, I’m Jake,” said the man with a grin. Opening his mouth exposed a cluster of bottom teeth rearranged by forces other than nature. An upper right incisor was missing as well. None of that affected his ability to chew as he managed to chomp away on a
wad of gum. As Lew approached the truck, he thrust both hands into his jacket pockets and waited, eyes skittish as he looked from Lew to Osborne and back to Lew. “Just giving the girls here a ride over from the Murphy place.”
Lew walked to the back of the truck. “Big dogs. Friendly?” “Yep. Them’s the Reeces’. They love everbody. Just picked ‘em up at the kennel. Okay, to bring ‘em back here, ain’t it?” He looked past Osborne to where Blue was standing. “Thought your old man said it was okay. Right?”
“That’s fine,” said Blue. “You can let them out, Jake.” “And this here’s Josie and Frances,” said Jake as Josie let herself down from the high front seat of the truck. She dusted at the jeans she was wearing then turned a bright face towards Lew.
“I know Josie and Frances,” said Lew, her voice quiet and level. “This your truck or does it belong to the Reeces?”
“Oh, no, this is my baby,” said Jake, laying an affectionate hand on the door handle to the driver’s side.
“Good for you,” said Lew. “Trucks like this don’t come cheap. You live around here, Jake?”
“Got a place over in the cities,” said Jake, pointing to the west as if Minneapolis would suddenly pop up behind a stand of balsam, “but stay right down the road most of the time.” He tipped his head towards the drive. “Job comes with a cabin about a third of a mile that way.”
“And is that where you were the night before last?” Lew asked. “During the engagement party?”
“Oh, hell, no. I dropped the girls off and went on down to Jimmy’s Bar. Had a pizza, watched the … ah, the Bears game. Hung out there til Josie called and said it was time to take ‘em home.” “So you were at Jimmy’s, the bar right down the road here?” “Yep.”
“When can Francie and I go home, Chief Ferris?” said Josie
, her whine interrupting Lew. “Do we have to stay here tonight? And my cell phone—when I can get my phone back?”
“Young lady,” said Lew, “I made it clear to you yesterday that you’ll be allowed back in Mildred Taggert’s house when the crime lab has finished inspecting the property and—”
Before she could say more, the dogs set up another round of loud barking as a man emerged from the woods behind the garage. “Now who the hell?” Jake spun around. As he did, he reached into a long toolbox resting in the bed of his truck and pulled out a shotgun.
“Hey, take it easy. Put that gun down,” said Lew as Ray approached, the stuffed trout askew on his head, its earflaps down leaving the ties to flutter in the wind. No parka for Ray—he looked bulky but warm in layers of T-shirts over which he had pulled a worn red sweatshirt emblazoned with the slogan: Vegetarian: Old Indian word for Poor Hunter.
“You’re looking at one of my deputies, Ray Pradt. Mr. Cahak, did you hear me? Gun goes back in the truck—and what are you doing with an uncased gun in there anyway? That’s against the law, fella.”
“Whaddya mean? I’m security here. And damned spooked after what’s happened if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“No, Jake,” said Blue from the porch stairs, “you’re not security. You’re the caretaker.”
“Same goddamn thing.”
“Put the gun in its case and put it back in your truck,” said Lew. “This time—it’s a warning. Next time, it’s a fine and ten days in the Loon Lake jail.”
“Good food in the hoosegow,” offered Ray with a grin.
Turning towards the truck, Jake mumbled under his breath but everyone heard him anyway as he said, “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Loon Lake’s got women for cops.”
With that Osborne wondered if the guy wouldn’t be better off shooting himself instead of putting the gun away. Lew ignored the comment, waiting in silence as Jake rustled around until he located a canvas gun bag, slipped the gun inside, zipped it shut and laid it back in the toolbox.
Then he turned to Ray who was now standing nearby. “How far did you go back in there? That’s trespassing on private land, bud, and I worked damn hard planting young balsam all along that property line, so I don’t need no dumb shit tramping down all them saplings.”
Lew opened her mouth to speak but Ray raised a finger to stop her.
“Well … gotta tell ya,” said Ray, sounding as if he was just this side of a laugh, “I do know a new tree from an old tree so don’t you worry. Nothing disturbed. Now,” he raised a cautionary hand as Jake looked like he was about to unload again, “you asked what I was doing back there so let me tell you.
“Just as I was looking through those fancy cars they got parked in front of the garage there at the request of Chief Ferris—given this is a crime scene some of that has to happen, y’know—well … I happened to look up and guess what I saw staring at me?” Standing right by the drive there. a seven. point. buck. No kidding, man, that is premium venison.
“So, sir …,” Ray waved a hand as if to forgive Jake his stupid behavior, “I understand your concern—no matter that. But tell you what …,” he leaned towards the shorter man conspiratorially, “I followed that critter and stumbled onto some darn decent deer trails running back that way …,” Ray turned and took his time to point towards the woods from where he had just emerged, “so took a few minutes to check ‘em out. Season’s open, y’know.” Ray raised his eyebrows as he grinned with anticipation.
“Not for you—this is private land. No one hunts there.” As he spoke, Jake took a step towards Ray, then stopped with his feet apart, hands on his hips.
“You are so belligerent,” said Ray with a laugh. “I’m just trying to point you in the right direction.”
“Now hold on, you two,” said Blue, running down the porch stairs. “Jake, Ray is a friend of mine. He can hunt this property if he wants.”
Jake threw up his hands in defeat, “Alright, alright, whatever you say. Jes’ tryin’ to do my job.”
“Hey, you razzbonya,” said Ray as Blue walked over to him. He put one arm around her shoulders and ran his knuckles lightly over her head as he said, “Nothin’ like a Chinese haircut—you feelin’ better?”
“Yeah,” said Blue with a slow smile and a shy eye that brought youth back into her face.
Jake moved to stand near Josie where he started bouncing lightly on his toes as if to keep his feet warm. Osborne watched as Jake bounced back behind Josie and with a quick motion slipped both his hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“Hey!” she squealed, “stop that now.” She slapped half-heartedly at the invading hands and Jake backed off, blowing on his bare fingers.
“Jes’ tryin’ to keep warm,” he said with an impish grin. Osborne glanced over at Frances who was standing at distance from her sister and Jake, her arms crossed to pull her parka tight against the cold. She had seen Jake’s move. Her eyes were wary and worried. She was not amused.
The porch door banged open and Andy Reece stepped out of the house. “Jake, you’re back. Great—I need you inside right away. This new computer I got—can’t figure how to hook it into the router. Got a big bet going on a bass tournament in Arkansas and if I can’t get online, I may lose a couple thousand. Come on in and get me fixed up, will ya?”
That was all Jake needed to hear. Before Lew could stop him, he had run up the steps past Andy. Blue motioned for the girls to follow. “Frances, Josie—come inside while Jake gets Dad fixed up. You’re freezing out here.”
Lew waited for the door to close behind Frances, who lingered as if reluctant to follow her sister inside. Her eyes caught Osborne’s for a brief second and he wondered if she had something she wanted to say. But she looked away just as quickly and followed the others into the house.
“Andy, how long has Cahak worked for you?” asked Lew.
“Oh, ‘bout a year now,” said Andy, standing with the door open, eager to get back into the house. “Nolan hired an electrical contractor from the cities to design the computer systems that run the sound and lighting in the house. Jake was one of his guys. We kept him on because he knows what to do when things go haywire. Guy grew up on Lake Minnetonka—so he’s good at servicing all the boats, too.
“He actually asked us for the job,” said Andy. “Told us he loves to hunt and fish and could take care of the basics around here. Been a godsend for me every time that damn Internet goes down. Blue thinks I’m a gadget geek but that guy knows computers like you wouldn’t believe.”
As the porch door closed behind Andy, Ray waved Lew and Osborne away from the house and over towards the garage. “Follow me back here, will you?”
“Sounds like you found something?” asked Lew in a low tone.
“Plenty,” said Ray. They rounded the back of the garage to where Ray had set down two paper evidence bags and a two-by-four nearly three feet long.
“I started in from where we saw those tracks on the shoreline and did we get lucky. The deer have been feeding and you know how they leave jagged edges on everything. Well, whoever’s been back in there was wearing a burgundy and tan sweater because I found strands of yarn on a scattering of brush from the lakeside all the way up to the driveway. Whoever it was had to have ripped the hell out of their sweater, which means … to me anyway … they were running. Could have been running in the dark, which is why they barreled through brush like that. I harvested what I could find, marked the brush so you can see the pattern and put the strands of yarn in here” He handed one of the evidence bags to Lew
“But the pièce de résistance …,” Ray paused to pick up the second bag and open it for Lew and Osborne to peer inside.
“Rubber gloves?” said Osborne, staring at the black gloves inside the bag.
“Yep, found ‘em shoved under a dead tree not far from the lake along with this big stick. Interesting, huh.”
“Let’s get back to the cruiser so I can check in with Doug Jesperson,” said Lew. “I hope he hasn’t left
town yet. Like to see what he thinks the lab can do with those gloves and that two-by-four. Good work, Ray. Very good work.”
“You’re as welcome as the flowers, Chief. Mind if I head out now? I promised to take Gina to fish fry tonight and I. need to clean up. You two feel like joining us?”
“We’ll be there,” said Lew. “I already told Doc his dinner’s on me. You get going, I’ll call Doug Jesperson right now.”
CHAPTER 23
Rubber gloves?” said Doug when Lew reached him on the police radio in the cruiser. “That could be a bonus, Lewellyn—if they were used by the killer. People think if they use rubber gloves that they won’t leave prints and they won’t. Better than that—they leave skin cells, DNA! But in order to have any match, we need to collect samples from any suspects you may have.”
“That’s why I’m calling. How soon can you get out here? I’ve got five people on-site right now, any one of whom might—”
“Now?” Doug sounded exasperated. “This couldn’t wait until Monday? Half my holiday is shot already.”
“I thought you told me you volunteered for holidays, Doug. Come on now, no one handles evidence better than you and your team. Maybe send one of your people out here. I’ll keep everyone waiting.”
Silence. “All right, I’ll ask Bruce if he minds heading back your way.”
“Thank you very much,” said Lew. “I’ll wait for him. But, Doug, how long will it take to do the DNA testing?”
“We use private contractors these days. If I’m lucky I can find someone who’ll rush it through. Maybe a week or two?”
“No sooner than that?”
“You’ve been watching too much TV. Now, Lewellyn, we’re just about finished here,” said Doug, “but a couple things you need to know. First, we didn’t even try to dust for prints in the shop. So many people walk in and out of there, pick up stuff, lean on the counter—no point to it. We did dust the cash register. Have not removed the computer the old lady used for licenses—it’s specific to that purpose so I see no reason to rip it out of the countertop. And, yes, we dusted it for prints. Thing is, you didn’t tell me about the barn.”
Dead Hot Shot Page 13
