Dead Hot Shot

by Victoria Houston

  “That had to be me,” said Lew.

  “That’s what I figured. Worried that any calls might make the situation worse, I took the phone off the hook. Sorry.”

  “Hey, that’s what got us out here,” said Lew. “Thank goodness you were able to stall ‘em.”

  “Maybe ‘cause I was calm, Jake decided to sit down and try to open the files—which, of course, he couldn’t. I explained—excuse me, I lied—and said that I had already emailed the files to a tech in Chicago who’d hacked into them and who was in the process of sending the files back to me under new encryption so I could analyze the data. I was honest—I said we were looking for who had been stealing credit card numbers.

  “That’s when Jake threatened me. He said if I didn’t open the files for him … That’s the one time I was really afraid because he became so enraged so fast I wasn’t sure I could reason with him. But Josie calmed him down and I offered to help out. If they wouldn’t hurt me, I said, I would give them the new password.

  Meantime the files were still loading so they knew they would have to wait for that to finish.”

  “And they believed you?” said Lew.

  “Yeah. Jake could see it happening on the screen. What was lucky for me is he’s got system skills but the guy’s no hacker. He knew he couldn’t get past an encrypted file without help.”

  “If that’s the case, how did they get into Mildred’s data in the first place?” said Lew. “Wouldn’t that have required a password?”

  “Yes. And what do you think that was? Aside from the fact that she kept an index card in the cash register with the damn password written on it.”

  “Wait,” said Ray, turning around from where he was spooning coffee into Gina’s coffeemaker, “let me guess—raccoon?”

  “Close, try again.”

  Ray tipped his head, thinking hard, then said, “Raccoon polka?”

  “No,” said Gina laughing as color crept back into her face, “babyraccoon.” One word, all lower case.

  “By now I’ve convinced them that the files they need are loading into the laptop on the desk and since they have to wait, I’m hoping I can keep them here until Ray comes to pick me up for dinner.”

  “An hour?” said Lew. “You were going to keep them waiting an hour?”

  “When was the last time you worked with a huge file, Chief? Those can take a long time to load. I was afraid that if I gave them the computer, I’d be the next person with a bullet in my head. I was desperate to buy time.”

  “Were you really loading files?” said Osborne.

  “Oh, yes,” said Gina. “Definitely loading files. Couldn’t fudge that. So while we’re waiting, I offered them a deal. I said I was a private contractor, that I had been stiffed by a couple of the banks that had hired me and if they were interested I could provide

  more credit card data on one condition: they had to cut me in on the profits. I made it a point to ask for a lot—thirty percent.

  “But I also said they would have to let me set up a system that would hide what was happening. I think that’s what convinced Jake I was for real because then he opened up and told me how he works. Installing state of the art computer systems in expensive homes has made him an expert on computer security from spam filters to firewalls—and where the gaps are. So he jumped on this because he knew right away that I knew what I was talking about.”

  “Gina, this took guts,” said Osborne. “I’m not sure I would have the fortitude.”

  “Doc, you’re looking at someone who, in my years as an investigative reporter, had to sneak up on mobsters’ garages to steal their garbage. You want scary? That’s scary. This was unsettling, but Jake and Josie were so nervous about getting that computer and all the files that they had to trust me. Jake may be able to siphon data but, like I said, he’s no hacker.”

  “So now you’ve got business partners,” said Lew, “and you’ve got them on hold. How long were they here? More than an hour?”

  “No, just an hour or so. But it didn’t take long for Jake to get so anxious that Josie sent him outside to keep watch. While he was patrolling the cabin, she double-crossed the guy and offered me a better deal.”

  “Are you serious?” said Lew. “Girl’s got guts.”

  “Oh yes, chatty Cathy’s got it all figured out. She offered to go partners with me fifty-fifty because she’s already planning to dump Jake once she meets his connection. Said his quick temper makes him high risk. I asked her what she meant by that. She thought it over then told me he’s killed two people and she does not intend to take the rap as an accomplice.”

  “She told you all this?” said Lew, astounded.

  “It was just me and her here for half an hour—and she did all the talking. The girl’s a schemer and I can tell she’s managed to fool a lot of people. Her mistake is thinking she’s smarter than everyone else.”

  “Don’t they always,” said Lew with a shake of her head. “Go on. Was she specific as to who he killed? Anything about Nolan Reece?”

  “I took a chance and asked if Jake had anything to do with that. He sure did. Josie said he was furious at the way Nolan had screamed at him in front of all the people here preparing for the engagement party. That wasn’t the first time she’d gone after him, either. He despised the woman.

  “Plus he was under the impression that Josie was in her will and could inherit a hefty chunk of money. He knew Nolan always went down to the dock late at night so he planned ahead—lowering the fishing boat and waiting in the woods near the dock.

  “Josie said he hit her with a club so hard she blacked out and fell into the lake—”

  “Which explains why we found Nolan’s bridge on the other side of the dock, Lew,” said Osborne, interrupting. “She was hit so hard that the bridge flew out of her mouth and across the dock to where you found it.”

  Lew nodded. “What else did Josie say, Gina?”

  “Before Nolan came to, Jake pulled the boat over on top of her so she couldn’t move and sat in the boat until he knew she was dead, then hoisted the boat back onto its shore station.

  “It was on Thanksgiving after he had driven the girls back to Mildred’s and was hanging out in the barn with Josie that he bragged about how it was the perfect crime—totally unaware that Mildred had entered the barn to search for her missing pet. Mildred saw Jake’s truck parked there. Standing on the stairs she overheard Jake and confronted the two of them. She shouted at him to get out, that she was going to call the police and started

  back towards the shop. He ran down the stairs, grabbed his rifle from the back of the truck and shot her as she was crossing the parking lot.”

  “So it’s all Jake,” said Lew.

  “Yes, it’s all Jake.”

  “Poor Mildred,” said Osborne, “she was so heavy, so arthritic, she moved so slow. He must have had all the time in the world—”

  “And shit for brains to leave those spent casings on the ground like that,” said Ray.

  “Probably didn’t occur to him that shooting humans is different from bringing down an eight-point buck,” said Osborne. “You need to pick up after yourself.”

  “Gina, are you saying that they left here with that computer and all those files?” said Lew. “This worries me. Although you did say one of your tech grad students downloaded those so we’ll be able to notify the banks—”

  “Let me show you something,” said Gina with a smug look on her face. She marched across the kitchen and into the next room, past the desk to the door to her bedroom. “Look.” She opened the door. On the nightstand near the bed was a white laptop.

  “Josie has an Apple laptop and I have an Apple laptop: same model. The one they grabbed is mine. The files that were loading were photos from my niece’s wedding last month. This,” said Gina, holding the flat white laptop high in triumph, “this is Josie’s laptop with the data files.

  “And everything on my laptop is backed up, so if I never see it again—no loss.”

  Before
anyone could say more, the cabin phone rang. Gina picked it up, answered and said, “For you, Chief.”

  Lew took the phone, listened and said, “Thanks, Marlene.” She set the phone back in its cradle and studied the floor for a moment before looking up to say, “A motorist just called in an accident on his cell phone. He’s at the site of a green pick-up overturned on Highway 45 near Land o’Lakes, license plate BIG DOG.

  “Ice and heavy slush on the roads up there—must have spun out. Two victims. The sheriff’s deputies and ambulances are on their way.”

  Josie Dark Sky was thrown from the vehicle as it rolled, only to have it land on her. She was dead when the first squad car arrived. Jake, not wearing a seat belt, was still trapped in the rear of the extended cab when the vehicle caught fire. He died on the way to the hospital. Gina’s laptop computer was found in a pile of brush heaped beside the highway—undamaged.

  Arriving home to a charred pizza hours later that night, Osborne was less distracted by the sorry state of his dinner than by Ray Pradt’s parting remark: “Wish we could’ve heard Jake’s side of the story.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Those bits of yarn that Ray found snagged on branches in the wooded area along the western edge of your property? They match the wool sweater Jake was wearing when he was killed,” said Lew, reviewing her notes as she and Osborne met with Andy and Blue Reece in Lew’s office.

  It was late Tuesday afternoon and the preliminary report from the Wausau Crime Lab had arrived earlier that morning. “The lab was able to match those fibers easily as well as the paint scrapings from under your wife’s fingernails. They came from the hull of the blue bassboat.” Lew glanced over at Andy. “You may want to have that boat repainted—”

  “I’m selling it,” said Andy, his voice brusque with emotion. Whatever his feelings had been towards his late wife before her death, Andy had kept them to himself throughout the investigation. A class act in Osborne’s view.

  “Also, the rubber gloves that were found hidden with the two-by-four that was used in the assault contained skin cells that are being checked for DNA. It’ll be a few weeks until we have confirmation on that—DNA testing takes a while. But I expect a match to Jake Cahak. Just like the spent casings from the .223-caliber

  bullets found near the barn where Mildred Taggert was killed are used in black rifles like the one we found in his truck.” “And those match, too?” said Andy.

  “Again, the ballistics testing has yet to be completed but I’m sure we’ll see a match,” said Lew. “I’ll see that you get a copy of the final report on both investigations.”

  “Thank you,” said Blue, “it helps us get past all this. The knowing, I mean.”

  “I understand,” said Lew. “Every detail helps. When do you drive south?”

  “We leave in the morning. Until today, the roads have been pretty bad.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Osborne. “My daughter and her family saw cars in the ditch and overturned semi-trailers as they drove back from Milwaukee Monday morning. You’ve been wise to wait.”

  Eighteen inches of snow had fallen since Saturday afternoon and Jake Cahak had not been the only person to drive too fast for conditions. The Loon Lake Police Department and the county sheriff’s office had had two more fatal accidents to deal with before the storm passed. It was weather, too, that delayed the Murphys’ trip north—though once they learned that Lew had no need to interrogate either of the parents or Barry, their trip was canceled.

  Nolan Reece’s body would be released to her husband and daughter that afternoon. Following Nolan’s wishes, they had arranged with a local funeral home for cremation followed by a memorial service in Lake Forest and a final resting place in Loon Lake.

  “My wife was difficult but she had her virtues,” said Andy, rumbling in his baritone after Lew’s closing of her notebook signaled the formalities were over. “She had a distinctive, original talent for design—one look at our house and you can see that. I think back to the woman I knew when we were young: if only her family had encouraged her to study architecture … if only I had known how to make her happy.” He studied the hands he held clasped tight in his lap. “I did my best to keep the promise that I made to her father and … and yet …,” he raised his deep, dark eyes, “it might have been better if we had divorced. you know? She might be alive today.”

  “Mother’s mental and emotional landscape was beyond our control, Andy,” said Blue. “I think we did our best.” Blue patted his hand.

  “We met with Mom’s lawyer this morning,” she said, “and my trust comes under my control in two months. On my birthday—so there will be some changes made soon. Good changes.” She smiled.

  “Congratulations,” said Osborne.

  “Yes, first things first,” said Blue, “Barry and I have decided to call off our engagement. Without my mom around to hassle us, his mother is being a little more understanding.”

  “What about his father?” said Lew.

  “Barry explained to his dad that the trauma of dealing with Mother’s death, the estate and everything that goes with that—the timing is not right for me. So Mr. Murphy is disappointed because he had hoped to see grandchildren before he dies but we all know that wasn’t going to happen anyway, right?” A sheepish grin crossed Blue’s face. “But Barry and I have been the dearest of friends since we were little kids and that will never change.”

  “You two were willing to give up a lot to protect each other,” said Osborne. “I don’t know many marriages that solid.”

  “Yes, well, along that line,” said Blue, getting up from her chair to stand behind Andy and put both hands on his shoulders, “I’m

  gifting to Andy a fourth of my trust—five million dollars.”

  “What!” Andy looked up at her in amazement. “Blue, don’t do that. I don’t need your money.”

  “Andy, dear heart, all that’s left in Mother’s estate is maybe a couple hundred thousand. Not enough for you to retire on even.” Blue sat back in the chair and leaned forwards to grasp both of Andy’s hands. “I want you to enjoy life for a change. Travel, go see those fishing tournaments, participate.” Blue’s face lit up. “I know! Why don’t you sponsor your own tournament—become a player, Andy. A real player in that business. You know you’d love it. You know how to do it, too.”

  “I don’t really fish, Blue,” said Andy, but he was sitting straighter in his chair. “I work the stats, the fundamentals—not the damn fish. I don’t like to fish.”

  “So? Hire Ray Pradt to be your fishing pro. He can be your consultant. Think of all the fun you can have.”

  “But, Blue, why—”

  “Because you stood there for twenty-five years, Mr. Reece. You stood there, you took the abuse and you were there for me. Now no argument!” She laughed, cuffing him lightly on the cheek.

  “And what about you, young lady,” said Osborne. “What are your plans for yourself?”

  Blue leaned forward to put both hands on Lew’s desk and said, “I am going to continue my training as a therapist specializing in drug and alcohol treatment. The money will allow me to build a treatment center for adolescents on our property. My plan is to make it a place where kids—kids like me—can find their way back. That’s what I want.

  “Fifteen million bucks can make that happen, don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER 32

  Early the next morning at McDonald’s, Jim Craigemeier took center stage with some interesting news. “I was helping Frances with the shop books yesterday when one of the neighbors stopped in,” he said. “Seems they caught a young kid who’d swiped his dad’s .22-caliber pistol and was shooting squirrels in the neighborhood. He owned up to being the guilty party who killed little Daisy, Mildred’s pet.

  “Yep,” said Jim, “there’s a kid who’ll be trouble down the road.” “You betcha,” said all the old guys in concert, shaking their heads over the steaming mugs of coffee.

  Four hours later, Frances was twisting her han
ds nervously as she waited in the anteroom at St. Mary’s Church. The funeral service for Mildred Taggert was scheduled to begin in half an hour. A few people had arrived and taken their places in the pews near the front of the altar. Waiting with Frances and Father Votruba were Osborne, Ray and Lew. Gina had had to leave early that morning for meetings in Madison—the state authorities were anxious to hear how the hunting and fishing license information had been compromised.

  “Oh, I don’t expect many people to come really,” said Frances. Her smile was as crooked as ever and tension was obvious in her eyes. Osborne couldn’t blame her. Over the past few days she had had to make the arrangements for her sister to be buried on the reservation, work with a probate lawyer so she could reopen Mildred’s Food Shop, and get her literature paper in on time. She had insisted on completing the latter even though Osborne had called the school on her behalf and everyone there was quite willing to give her an extension.

  “Mildred wasn’t the warmest person, I know,” said Frances, continuing to prepare herself for a very low turnout. “She scared little kids.” But even as Frances made the excuses, there was a warmth in her eyes and Osborne recognized the affection she had had for the crotchety old woman who had done the best she could to give two young girls a better start in life.

  “She taught you how to be a businesswoman,” said Lew. “Think about that. You know how to manage inventory, bookkeeping and how a small grocery has to be run. You know the retail business. Not many girls your age are so experienced.”

  “Yes,” said Frances, brightening, “she didn’t have to do that either.” She reached into her purse, then hesitated. “Dr. Osborne, I’m wondering—would you look at this quote I want to read for Mrs. Taggert?” She held out an index card with handwriting scrawled across it. “I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to say. It’s from Emily Dickenson—we’ve been studying her poetry in my lit class.”

  Osborne took the card from her hand and read the quote: “The last night that she lived, it was a common night, except the dying: this to us made nature different.”