Lakeside Mystery Series Box Set

by Gregg Stutts

  He finally realized the street looked familiar because it was just one block from Willy’s house. He could cross the street, cut through a yard and be at Willy’s. It was less than a hundred yards. He could still hear the helicopter, but for the moment, it was out of sight, which hopefully meant he was too. This was his chance. He made an all-out sprint for Willy’s house.

  But the closer he got, the louder the helicopter was getting. It was coming back for another pass. He pushed himself as hard as he could and dove into the bushes in Willy’s front yard just as the helicopter appeared overhead. He kept perfectly still as it made its pass and again moved down the hill toward the lake.

  When he could no longer hear it, he came out of the bushes and knocked softly on Willy’s front door. He was about to knock again when Willy opened it and pulled Max inside the dark house. He threw his arms around him, hugged him tight and said, “You’re only wearing your underwear.”

  “I’m aware,” Max said. “I’m also bleeding, thanks to your holly bush. And I think I’ve got a pretty nasty concussion.”

  “Let’s get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes, then I’ll take a look at you,” Willy said. “Follow me to the bathroom. It doesn’t have an exterior wall, so I think it’ll be safe to turn the light on in there.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost three o’clock,” Willy said. “It’s a good thing you made it back before dawn.” Willy turned the light on and looked Max over. “You might have attracted some attention during daylight hours.”

  “I’ve got to call Michelle, but I’ll need to borrow your phone. Mine took a little swim.”

  He called Michelle to let her know he was okay and after she stopped crying, he said he’d explain more later. After a hot shower, he changed into some dry clothes Willy had laid out. He joined him in the kitchen where he had brewed coffee and fried up some bacon and eggs. They ate and drank coffee in silence for several minutes.

  Finally, Willy said, “We need a plan.”

  “You have no idea,” Max said.

  Chapter 42

  Michelle, Carrie and Rose walked through the door at 6:30 a.m. Half an hour later, over his second breakfast of the day, Max brought everyone up to speed on the previous night’s events. When he was done, he asked Willy if he had a yellow legal pad. It was time to start getting his aching head around what was happening, because at the moment, there were mostly questions and no answers.

  At the top of the page, he wrote: WHAT DO WE KNOW?

  Ten minutes later, he read aloud what he’d written.

  1. Why are two city councilmen are dead? Andy Reynolds and Dan Jenkins voted against the Freedom Protection Act. Andy allegedly committed suicide. And Dan Jenkins was murdered.

  2. Who killed Dan Jenkins and is his murder linked to his conversation with Willy about wanting to meet at his boat?

  3. Why did the cops show up at the marina? Who called them?

  4. Who were the men in the black SUV that killed four cops?

  After reading over the list a second time, Max said, “Do we know anything else?” While he waited for any other thoughts, he also wrote down for his own benefit:

  August 9: Half-day coach’s meeting

  August 11: First day of practice

  August 16: Scrimmage against Russellville

  August 18: First day of school

  August 29: Opening game against Bergen Catholic

  He was unprepared for football season or to answer any of the questions they’d come up with. A large, tight knot twisted in his stomach. He could feel his heart pounding again in his chest and in his head.

  He hated not being prepared. Not having a plan. And he didn’t have one for the start of the season or for dealing with what happened at the marina.

  Suddenly, there was a thud at the front door. Everyone jumped. Max felt like his heart was about to pound right out of his chest.

  “It’s only the newspaper,” Willy said. “I’ve told that kid not to throw it against the door, but he doesn’t listen.” He got up and retrieved the paper while Max tried to calm down and remember anything else that was relevant.

  Willy came back and dropped the paper on the table. “Look at this.”

  Max picked it up and read the headline, “Freedom Protection Act Gains Support.”

  Chapter 43

  By 11:00 a.m., it was getting hard for Max to keep his eyes open. Looking around the table, he saw the others were feeling the same way. Neither he nor Willy had slept at all. Michelle and Rose had only dozed off and on. Fortunately, Carrie was due for a nap.

  “I can’t think any more,” Max said. “Let’s touch base later.”

  “I’m not a doctor,” Willy said, “but I’m confident you’re going to be fine, Max. The headache might linger for awhile though.”

  They were only a couple miles from Willy’s house when Michelle fell asleep. Max glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Carrie and saw a police car coming up fast behind him. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He took his foot off the accelerator as the cop flipped his lights on. Max braked and pulled onto the shoulder.

  He’d almost come to a complete stop when the cop raced past him. His heart rate was racing as well and wouldn’t return to normal until he pulled into his driveway five minutes later.

  He carefully removed Carrie from her car seat, brought her inside and got her settled. By the time he got back to the van, Michelle was waking up. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to crawl in bed for a while,” she said.

  He felt like sleeping as well, but his mind was racing and he had too much to do. He made a fresh pot of coffee, poured his fourth cup of the day and sat down on the deck. Thirty minutes later, Michelle joined him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I know the feeling.” He was sorry she couldn’t sleep, but relieved to have someone to process with. “Shelle, I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to feel guilty or relieved or both or something else.”

  “You mean about what happened at the marina? Why would you feel guilty? You did nothing wrong. If you had stayed there last night, you might have been killed along with those cops.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you for getting out of there.”

  Michelle’s phone rang. “Hi, Willy.”

  “What is it?” Max whispered.

  “Yeah, I guess that is good news. Thanks for letting us know.” She set her phone down on the table. “He said the police just left his house. They found his number in Dan’s cell phone records and wanted to ask him some questions.”

  “How could they have Willy’s phone number?” He knew he had Dan’s phone.

  “I guess his cell phone provider?” she said.

  “Oh yeah,” he said.

  “Willy said they asked if he knew of anyone who might have had a reason to hurt Dan. He told them he didn’t and they left. Nothing to worry about,” she said.

  He shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. And hoped the twinge of pain behind his right eye wasn’t leading to a full-blown migraine. “I guess you’re right, Shelle. But there’s still the issue of who killed Dan and those innocent cops.”

  Her phone buzzed. “It’s a text from Willy. He said to put the mid-day news on.”

  They got up and went inside.

  “You did put your phone in a bag of rice, didn’t you?” Michelle asked. “If you don’t get it working in a day or two, you need to get a new one. I have a feeling Willy is going to wear me out.”

  Chapter 44

  They turned the channel to the local NBC station. A reporter was outside the Lakeside municipal building. “The Lakeside City Council president and the police chief are going to address the media regarding the shooting deaths of four police officers and apparent suicide of city councilman, Dan Jenkins, last night at the Lakeside Marina. The report we have is that four officers were killed in the line of duty last night after responding to a 911 call. According to…,”

  The anchor broke in. “Amy, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re going liv
e now to City Council President, Blair Morgan.”

  Max and Michelle watched as the city council president stepped to the podium. She was wearing a tailored black suit with a white shirt that was a little too snug and could have used one more button.

  He was sure Blair Morgan was the best-looking city council president Lakeside had ever seen but knew enough to keep that opinion to himself, especially since Michelle had been talking about how frustrated she was to still be carrying some of the pregnancy weight she’d put on.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I want to offer my condolences to the families and friends of the officers who were killed in the line of duty last night, as well as to the entire Lakeside police department. These brave men died doing a job they loved.” Blair appeared to get choked up and put her hand to her lips. The man next to her handed her a tissue, which she used to dab her eyes.

  Max sat on the edge of the sofa, his right knee bouncing rapidly. “Max.” Michelle put her hand on his leg. “Slow down.”

  “Sorry.”

  Blair Morgan continued. “After a preliminary investigation, I regret to report that Dan Jenkins, one of our city councilmen, was responsible for the deaths of these fine officers.”

  Max shot from his seat like he’d sat on a cat. “WHAT?!”

  “Max, please, you’re gonna wake, Carrie.”

  “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice. “But did you hear what she just said? That’s a lie! Dan was dead before the cops even arrived.”

  “As you know, we recently approved the Freedom Protection Act, so our citizens can feel safe again as we take the needed step of getting guns, like the one used to kill these heroes last night, off our streets.”

  Max was on his feet glaring at the television and running his hands through his hair.

  “It’s clear, or at least it should be, that in a civilized society, the private ownership of guns has run its course. In an act of defiance, Dan Jenkins murdered four officers and then turned the gun on himself.”

  “Last night, Dan Jenkins placed a 911 call to police from his boat at the marina. When the officers responded, he was waiting for them. He killed them and then went back to his boat and killed himself.”

  “She’s lying. That’s all there is to it. Our city council president is on television lying to everyone about what actually happened.” Max couldn’t sit or stand still. He paced three steps in one direction then three steps in the other.

  A reporter in the room asked, “When will you be releasing the recording of the 911 call?”

  Blair Morgan looked at the police chief standing next to her, then back at the reporter. “My understanding from the chief is that the call was accidentally deleted.” She looked back at the chief, “Isn’t that right?”

  He shifted his feet and stared at the floor for a moment. “Yes, that’s right. Deleted.”

  “I can’t watch anymore,” Max said. He used the remote to turn the television off. “Either she’s lying or she’s been lied to. Either way, nothing last night happened the way she just described it.”

  “Why would she lie about it?” Michelle said. “What does she stand to gain?”

  Max was staring out the window on their backyard. He pondered Michelle’s questions, then turned to her and said, “I intend to find the answers to both of those questions.”

  Chapter 45

  Wednesday, August 6th

  Max was determined to enjoy the last few nights before practice started with Michelle and Carrie. Football was about to become all-consuming until the playoffs ended in early December. Of course, that was assuming they’d make it far enough into the playoffs to still be playing that late in the season.

  But almost forty-eight hours after the events at the marina, enjoying anything was difficult. He couldn’t shake the sight of Dan’s lifeless eyes staring at him, or the bullet hole in his forehead, or the blood soaked pillow. Or the young cop who’d been shoved into the water right next to him. He could see it all every time he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  Compared to good people being murdered, having to replace his cell phone was a minor inconvenience, but still a hassle. The rice trick hadn’t worked, at least not on his phone, so he’d purchased a refurbished one to replace it. Dan’s phone was still in a bag of rice tucked behind a box in their bedroom closet.

  He discussed with Willy going to the police and telling the truth about everything they’d done and witnessed, but in the end, they agreed it was too risky. If the city council president and police chief knew what happened and were willing to lie to the media and the town, then they couldn’t trust anyone. They were running with a story that was a complete fabrication. If anyone doubted that “fake news” existed, Max now had the proof.

  They considered the possibility of going to the state police or even the FBI, but that would involve revealing they’d been at the scene. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t somehow be implicated. He hated the thought of these people, whoever they were, getting away with murder though.

  He dumped the charcoal on the grill, stacked it neatly, and squirted it with lighter fluid. He let it soak in for a minute, then struck a match and dropped it on the charcoal before going inside to wait for the briquettes to turn gray. Michelle was watching the local evening news.

  “How many more senseless deaths will it take before we get serious about protecting our children?” Blair Morgan was speaking at another news conference. “It’s not even a question any more, is it? It’s time for the citizens of Lakeside to take the lead and get guns out of the hands of criminals.”

  “But you’re not just talking about criminals!” Max yelled at the television. “You’re talking about all citizens and all guns!” He continued listening, but was mostly yelling. “I can’t stand to even look at her,” he said.

  “Huh.” Michelle sounded skeptical.

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing.”

  “No, what’s wrong?”

  “Well, for someone you can’t stand to look at, you seem to be doing a pretty good job of looking at her.”

  He started to say something, but stopped. Blair was wearing a different outfit, but was no less attractive.

  “I thought so.” She winked at him. That let him know he wasn’t in trouble. At least not too much.

  The station cut from the news conference back to the studio where the anchor said, “If you’re just tuning in, we’re following reports of a shooting at the Lakeside City Park about an twenty minutes ago.”

  “Oh, no,” Michelle said, covering her face. “Please God…”

  The anchor continued, “Two children were treated at the scene and transported to the Benton County Hospital. The latest word from the hospital is that both children are stable and from what we’re being told, their injuries are not life threatening. At this time, the identity of the shooter or a possible motive is still unknown. Witnesses told police two white males approached the swimming area on a jet ski and fired several shots before heading east on the lake. We’ll have more on this story on the late news.” The station went to a commercial and Max turned the television off.

  “At least it sounds like the children are okay,” she said.

  There was no one else in their living room to hear him, but Max felt the need to lower his voice anyway. “Sure seems like a pretty strange coincidence, don’t you think? Four cops are killed a couple nights ago and now someone on a jet ski shoots kids at the park.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Max plopped himself onto the couch next to Michelle and rubbed the back of his neck. “We know for a fact that Dan Jenkins did not kill those cops, but that’s the story Blair Morgan fed the media and they’re running with it.”

  “What is happening to our town?” Michelle said as she got up to check on Carrie.

  He laid his head back and tried to relax the muscles that were squeezing his head like a vice. But Michelle’s question was rattling around in his head. He resisted the urge to find his lega
l pad to begin making notes. He was too tired and feared there was no way to make sense of it. And then he reframed her question and suddenly felt some of the fog lifting.

  It’s not, “What is happening to our town?” It’s, “Who is happening to our town?”

  Chapter 46

  The man pulled into the parking lot and backed the SUV into a spot near the front door. It gave him a view of the entire lot and, if necessary, would allow him quick access to his vehicle when exiting the restaurant. It was a habit he found hard to break.