Dead Hot Shot

by Victoria Houston

  “Gee, Lew,” said Osborne, “with the ice buildup on the tree branches, I’ll bet the phone wires came down. That’s a landline phone she has at her place, isn’t it?”

  “You could be right. They’ve reported power lines down in Tomahawk. What worries me though is who was at the door? It’s not like Gina lives here year ‘round and has friends who drop in. Except for you and Ray, I doubt she even knows her neighbors. And with this weather, most people are hunkered down inside. If Ray is with you, who could it be that was at her door?”

  “Where are you right now, Lew?”

  “I’m still in town. I’ve been so worried I haven’t left the department yet. Where are you two?”

  “At the Reeces’. I was thinking about those scrapings under Nolan Reece’s fingernails and remembered that one of the boats docked over here was blue—that big bassboat. Ray helped me get some paint scrapings off the hull pad, which, by the way, is badly scratched. Could be rocks or …”

  “Let’s deal with that later,” said Lew. “Tell you what—I’m going to drive over to her place and make sure she’s okay but I’d feel a heck of a lot better if I had back-up. Can’t use Todd or Roger—one’s handling a rollover on Highway 17 and the other a fender bender in the parking lot at the Loon Lake Market.”

  “We’re heading back to my place right now,” said Osborne, waving Ray towards the entrance to the boathouse. Meet you there but take your time—the roads are icy and getting worse by the minute.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  Osborne handed the cell phone back to Ray. “Gina’s not answering her cabin phone—”

  “It’s the ice,” said Ray. “Bet you we lose service, too.”

  “Well, they were talking on the phone when Gina heard someone at her door and said she’d call back but Lew hasn’t heard from her since. Lew’s tried calling but all she gets is a busy signal. She got an operator to try to break into the call but the operator said no one was on the line. Lew tried the phone company repair service and got a recorded message.”

  “I still think it’s ice,” said Ray, “but worth checking out if it helps everyone relax. Given her place is on that point and exposed on three sides, we’ll know the minute we drive in if she’s alone or not.”

  “Unless they walked over”

  “On this ice?” said Ray. “I doubt that.”

  Lew’s cruiser was in Osborne’s driveway when they got back. She had let herself into the house and was standing in the kitchen. She turned as they entered. “I tried calling out on your phone, Doc. This line’s not down. You guys ready to go?”

  “Take it easy, Chief,” said Ray. “I’m sure there’s an easy answer—”

  “I hope you’re right but. Gina had called to say her student was able to crack the passwords protecting those files,” said Lew. “The files are full of personal credit card data. Now whether it’s Josie or Jake we don’t know, but one of the two has been siphoning the credit card numbers stored off the computer in Mildred’s shop.

  “Gina was in the midst of telling me that she has her students checking the contents of the laptop’s files against the database they have of stolen cards when whoever it was knocked on her door. What if Jake Cahak learned from Josie that Gina has possession of that computer. “

  “I hear you,” said Ray. “Let’s drive down in my truck as if I’m picking Gina up for dinner—which I am supposed to do, but not for another hour. The road in to her place has a turnaround where we can check to see if any other cars are there—without our being seen. Okay with that?”

  Lew nodded. “Let’s hurry.”

  Ray bumped down the drive that was quickly disappearing under the snow and yanked the wheel sharp to the left behind a

  dense stand of young balsam whose branches were beginning to droop from the weight of ice under a thickening blanket of fat, heavy snowflakes. It was less a turnaround than just enough space to pull in, back out and reverse without being seen from the cabin’s porch, which was several hundred yards away.

  “Wait,” said Ray as Osborne started to push on the truck’s door. “No one’s wearing blaze orange, right?” They checked one another out. No bright colors—they’d blend.

  Osborne heaved a shoulder at the passenger-side door, wishing for the umpteenth time that Ray might discover the miracle of silicon spray. After three attempts, the door opened at last with only the slightest creak. Since the other door had been frozen shut for as long as Osborne had known Ray, all three got out on the passenger side. To minimize noise, Ray, the last one out, left the engine running and the door ajar.

  “Be very careful,” cautioned Osborne in a whisper as they moved forward, “it’s glare ice under this snow. Please, don’t anyone fall and break a bone.”

  Just as they crept up behind the balsams, the door to the screened-in porch banged open. Windows from the interior of the cabin threw enough light for them to see Jake Cahak step down two stairs, a rifle in both hands as he swung to the left, then to the right.

  “Damn, he’s got an AK-15,” said Ray, voice low.

  “I don’t see anybody,” shouted Jake back to someone inside. “Enough snow out here I’d see tracks if there was. You’re hearing things. Probably just a car going down the road. Hey, ask that woman how much longer for those damn files to load. This snow’s turning into a blizzard. I want outta here, pronto.”

  A female voice from inside hollered back, “Twenty minutes she says. Thirty at the most.”

  “Josie!” Lew and Osborne whispered simultaneously.

  “Shit,” said Jake, swinging from one side to another once more before stepping back inside the door. He lingered on the porch, a dark figure barely discernable against the wood paneling.

  Whispering, Ray put out a hand to restrain Lew, who had pulled her Sig Sauer from its holster. “Don’t even think about it, Chief. That’s a black rifle he’s got. Comes with a magnifier on the scope that will make you look like you’re two feet away.”

  “But we’re in the dark—and he’s got light behind him—”

  “And a flashlight attached to the barrel that won’t shatter when he fires. Against that gun of his, yours is no match. Whatever you do, don’t shoot. Let’s think about this—”

  “We better think fast,” said Osborne. “Sounds like all we have is fifteen or twenty minutes to figure it out.”

  The three of them stood in the darkness, the only sound their breathing as they studied the outside of the cabin. Snow continued to fall—fat, heavy flakes softening the outlines of the small building.

  “Maybe there’s a deer trail off to one side that I could follow in towards—”

  “No,” Lew cut Ray off with a harsh whisper, “not in this snow—no way to hide your tracks. And with the ice, you’re likely to slip and fall, and then what? Doc, Ray—I don’t think we can get there from here without being seen.

  “If I call for back-up, that’s at least a half hour before someone gets here given the hazardous road conditions and other emergency calls. If we confront Jake, I worry that we risk Gina’s life not to mention our own lives—and Josie’s. Dammit! Why did Gina have to buy a place so exposed anyway?”

  Even as she spoke the snowfall lightened momentarily, throwing the cabin into sharp relief with only the trees behind it—lakeside—offering any cover.

  “I know,” said Ray, “Let’s circle ‘round and come in from the

  back across the channel. Chances are there’s maybe fifty feet of open water, we can pull on shore and stay behind the trees that run along the lot line up to the cabin. We’ll come in the back way and surprise them.”

  “It’s an option, but who’s got a boat?” asked Lew.

  “Mine’s trailered and ready to go,” said Ray. “I was planning to drop it off at the storage locker before picking up Gina. Take me two seconds to hitch up the trailer and we’ll circle ‘round easily on a logging trail that crosses the Gudegast just north of Gina’s place.”

  Lew looked first at Osborne
, then at Ray. She made up her mind: “Okay, but let’s move fast and hope that whatever Gina’s doing, she takes her time.”

  Ray bent down, struggling to get the trailer hitched as fast as possible. In his rush he slipped, sliding feet first under the back of his truck and landing hard on his back.

  “Oh, gosh, are you okay?” asked Lew as she and Doc grabbed both arms to pull him out and up.

  “Yeah. I’ll feel it in the morning but I’m fine.” With a few quick swipes, Ray brushed the snow off his butt, then hooked the chain onto the trailer hitch and motioned for them to get back in the pick-up. It was snowing so heavily now that they were driving in whiteout conditions, barely able to see more than twenty feet, if that, ahead.

  Ray pulled the truck and trailer onto Loon Lake Road heading east to the stop sign where, wheels spinning, he swung onto the county highway. He continued over a bridge then skidded through a left turn onto a town road that appeared to come to a dead end. But an opening between two tall Norway spruces turned out to be a rough logging lane.

  “Only Ray could find this,” muttered Lew as if questioning her decision to try the back way. The truck banged along until they reached a dirt-covered culvert that served as a bridge. Just past that was a clearing with a portable sawmill, its stack of uncut logs and fresh-hewn planks wrapped in tarps. Ray kept going.

  He pulled to a stop behind tag alders lining the shore. The snowfall was so heavy they could barely make out the lights of Gina’s cabin across the way. But the trees were there—the border of mature shrubs that Ray had promised ran like tall soldiers along one side of her place. Osborne noticed the ice on the channel extended a good fifteen feet, then thirty feet or more of open water all the way to the opposite shore, thanks to the current from the Gudegast. He was relieved. The open water was what they needed to cross in just a moment or two.

  He and Lew got out of the truck so Ray could back it around and drop the boat trailer onto the ice along their side of the channel. He moved fast to slide the boat off the trailer and, with help from both Osborne and Lew, scoot it over the ice until the stern broke through. Thinking it had dropped into water, Ray gave one more shove. It went nowhere.

  “What the hell?” he walked over the ice, his boots breaking through to hit sand. “Oh no,” he said. “The water is so low, the boat’s still on sand.” The three of them pushed again but the boat budged barely an inch.

  “Maybe we can walk across?” said Osborne. “We’re wearing boots.” Even as he mentioned the boots, he was sorry he was wearing gloves and not mitts. His hands were freezing. Lew grabbed a moment to zip her parka so that the collar and hood left only her nose and eyes exposed. The wind was strong from the north, biting their faces.

  “Sorry, Doc, even with low water there’s a drop-off of nearly ten feet right through the center there,” said Ray. “But I got an

  idea—just wait.” He ran back to the truck, slid across to the driver’s seat and drove off, the trailer clattering along behind him.

  Lew looked at Osborne and shook her head. “Another idea? What is that man up to? I am so worried. Doc, we ran out of time ten minutes ago.”

  The defeat on her face was more than Osborne could bear. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, held her for a long moment. “Don’t give up yet,” he said into her hair. “Ray’s not stupid.”

  Lew stepped away, clapping her gloved hands together to keep them warm. “I know. It’s just … this seems impossible—” Just as she checked her watch for the tenth time they heard the clatter of the trailer before they saw the truck. Ray hit the brakes and jumped out saying, “Hey, you two, grab those logs and let’s roll ‘em out over the sand. But first, help me yank this boat back onto the ice.”

  He had thrown half a dozen logs, five feet long, into the bed of the truck. He grabbed one, Lew and Osborne another and they rushed across the ice to lay the logs parallel and horizontal to the shoreline. Back and forth they ran until the log surface extended the extra feet needed to get past the sand. Pulling the boat sideways, they pushed it stern-first over the logs, which were as slick as the ice. This time the boat dropped into water.

  “Get ready,” said Ray, as they all three clambered into the boat. He had the oars moving before Osborne had both feet in and it seemed like less than thirty seconds before they were bumping against the far shore. Boat pulled up, they paused to listen. Voices could be heard from inside the cabin. They started forward, Ray in the lead.

  CHAPTER 30

  Scrambling up the bank from the shoreline was not as easy as it appeared. A layer of ice beneath what was now two inches of wet snow made each step forward seem like two steps back. Osborne wasn’t the only one whose boots kept slipping. Nor did things improve when the three of them reached the screen of arbor vitae running along Gina’s property line: the trees—though a good six feet high and densely branched—had gaps of three to four feet between them.

  “Stay low,” whispered Ray, who had taken the lead. Osborne did the best he could as he crouched behind Lew. It worried him that the snow had suddenly stopped and a break in the cloud cover turned the rising moon into a floodlight exposing the cabin in its snowy clearing. Any approach would leave tracks visible from inside.

  The unmistakable crack of a rifle shot caused Osborne to freeze for a second before slamming himself into the snow behind Lew and Ray. Was that from inside the cabin? Or outside? It happened so fast he couldn’t tell. He held his breath. Lew and Ray were motionless. Thank goodness the clumps of grass between the trees are high, thought Osborne, decent cover. More shots and the sound of bullets thudding into the trunks of the arbor vitae.

  “Josie, someone’s here,” cried a hoarse male voice from near the cabin. “Grab that laptop and get in the truck! Go! Go! Go!”

  “Godammit,” said Lew under her breath as she inched forward in a belly-crawl. Ray was moving, too. Osborne hesitated and was relieved when they stopped. A low rise between the line of trees and the cabin would be difficult to cross without being seen. The windows at the rear of the cabin were lit and the curtains pulled back. Anyone who crossed that clearing was a target.

  The sound of a door slamming, an engine revving and the spinning of tires on gravel encouraged Ray, who jumped to his feet and ran straight for the lighted window. He peered in, then turned and waved Osborne and Lew forward. “I don’t see anyone,” he said in a low voice when they reached him. “All you can see is the kitchen and it’s empty. Let’s hope they haven’t taken Gina hostage.” He tried the back door but it was locked. He banged on it. A wait. He banged again. When nothing happened dread hit Osborne in the gut. Another crunch of tires from the other side of the cabin … then silence.

  Pulling her Sig Sauer pistol from its holster, Lew said, “Ray, maybe we should try the front—”

  The door flew open and Gina stood there: a silhouette against the bright lights of the kitchen. “Oh, thank God,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open. “They just left and. and I’m okay, I’m okay.” Her eyes widened as she resisted breaking down, but her shoulders drooped and her voice cracked as she tried to smile. “You don’t know how good it is to see you guys—if I’d known you were coming I’d have baked a cake.” By the last word she was in tears. “I hate crying,” she sobbed. “I’m just fine.” Ray gathered her into his arms, patting her back as she wept.

  “Gina, take your time, we’re not going anywhere,” said Lew as Osborne got Gina a glass of water and Ray eased her into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “But don’t you—they’re heading for Canada,” said Gina, rising in her seat. “Josie told me her friend killed those women. Someone needs to—”

  “Settle down, kiddo,” said Lew. “I’m about to alert all law enforcement in the region. They can take it from here.” Gina sat back, wiping at her face with a Kleenex that Ray had handed her, then took several deep breaths while Lew punched in the emergency number for the switchboard on the cabin phone. “Working fine,” she said with a faint
grin as she held the receiver high.

  Two seconds later Lew was instructing Marlene to put out an APB for Jake Cahak’s Dodge RAM. “We have reason to think they’re headed for Canada,” she said. “Tell Wisconsin, Michigan and Minnesota authorities I suggest they cover every possible route between here and the border. But I want southern routes covered as well just in case they decide to pull a fast one and head for Illinois. And, please, Marlene, be sure to repeat that these two people are armed and dangerous and one or both are wanted for murder.”

  After giving brief physical descriptions of Jake and Josie, she hung up, pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. “With luck, they’ll be spotted within the hour. Gina, feeling better?” Gina nodded with a faint smile.

  Lew pulled out her notepad. “I need you to start at the beginning and tell us exactly what happened. Every detail. Doc, would you take notes, please? I don’t have a tape recorder so I’ll need yours for backup. Ray, you’re in charge of the coffee.”

  “Got it,” said Ray, jumping up from the table.

  “Josie heard us talking in the parking lot at Mildred’s place,” said Gina. “That’s how she and Jake knew where to find me. They were desperate for her laptop. Those files I found were full of data that he hadn’t yet forwarded to the connection up in Montreal that’s been buying it from him.

  “That’s who knocked on the door when—thinking it was Ray—I said I’d call you back. But they barged right in before I could. He had a very unpleasant-looking gun and Josie was right behind him. He spotted my computer open on the desk in the front room and grabbed for it. He was unplugging it when I suggested that he might want to be sure he could open the files before leaving.

  “Don’t ask me how,” Gina raised both hands as if still surprised at herself, “but I managed to stay pretty calm. Kinda like ‘oh, hey, people barge in here every day, go right ahead, take what you like.’ I stayed cool. Even when the phone rang—”