by Jen Wright
Big Noise
A Jo Spence Mystery
Jen Wright
Clover Valley Press, LLC
Big Noise
© 2009 by Jennifer Lynn Wright
All rights reserved.
Except for quotations and excerpts appearing in reviews, this work may not be reproduced or transmitted, in whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without prior written permission from the publisher:
Clover Valley Press, LLC
6286 Homestead Rd.
Duluth, MN 55804-9621
USA
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between characters in this book and actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover design by Sally Rauschenfels
Cover images © iStockPhoto.com:
Julia Freeman-Woolpert (figure in snowy field)
Royce DeGrie (gun)
Author photo by Helen Mongan-Rallis
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009925881
Print ISBN: 978-0-9794883-4-4
eBook ISBN: 978-0-9794883-7-5
Acknowledgments
No book reaches print without the help of many fantastic people. My books are probably needier than most. The following people contributed to Big Noise, and I owe them thanks and whatever else they want.
A special acknowledgment must go to Cathy Coon, who provided all of the poetry in the book with the exception of the final poem. Thank you so much.
Lynn Boggie provided me with information about volunteer fire departments. Diane Dickey suggested the "love is like a heartbeat" scene. You both helped me to better understand rural Minnesota. I am indebted to Fran Kaliher for living a life that inspired the home and character of Amanda. Scott and Tommy Hanna provided background information about rural volunteer fire fighting and information on handguns.
Judith Torrence, Mary Anne Daniel, Karen Andrews, and Gail Polesak supported me in numerous ways along the journey. Karen Andrews and Jane Hovland provided feedback about the character Donald and the realism of his mental health issues. Lynn Walker provided information about methamphetamine addiction and overdose symptoms.
Sue Lawson and Ellen O'Neill gave me valuable commentary on the early manuscript. Char Appelwick and Jim Madden generously read the final manuscript prior to printing. I am grateful to Joyce Snyder for acting as a beta reader. Lori L. Lake's Minneapolis writers group was also generous with feedback and advice. My writers group, including Char Appelwick, Charlene Brown, Dianna Hunter, and Nancy Gallagher, helped me to work my way through the entire project. Thank you for your encouragement and wisdom.
Thanks go to all of the dogs in my life for giving me lots to write about. Lastly, thank you, Kari, for your unwavering support. I know that between my bouts of binge reading and writing, I neglected you. Your support means the world to me. You mean the world to me.
For Charlene Brown
my friend, mentor, editor, and publisher
Thank you so much for your gentle guidance. I was so vulnerable and insecure when I started writing, and you helped me to discover a part of myself that brings me so much inner joy. I would not have done any of this without you.
Prologue
Trouble has a way of finding me. That's what my friends always say. Zoey and I had every intention of taking time to relax and enjoy our two-week vacation in the snowy north woods. Our destination, a cozy rural outpost called Big Noise, should have been ideal for a romantic getaway. Our friends were welcoming, and we loved the neighborly spirit of the community. Yet, even here I stumbled into a situation that could prove deadly. Once again, I placed myself and Zoey in harm's way.
I was thinking about that as I tried desperately to second-guess a madman and to calculate my chances of survival. This time, trouble hadn't come looking for me. I had gone looking for him.
One thick door separated me from Zoey. I could feel Don's eyes watching me think about that door. He took the butt of the gun and hit the hard, unyielding wood, yelling, "Shut up, or I'll kill her."
CHAPTER 1
Jo and Zoey settled onto the floor of their rented cabin for a cup of French-pressed dark roast. The woodstove was doing a slow burn on two birch logs that their hosts Sandy and Ree had cut and split by hand. Jo's two dogs were snoring softly in front of the fire.
As Jo savored her coffee, Zoey set her cup down on the hearth and settled into Jo's strong arms, murmuring, "This is so nice."
Jo held her lover and leaned back against the front of a well-worn couch, which had been transformed by the simple addition of a handmade quilt. Jo smiled inwardly as she touched the tan and green squares sewn into longer pieces of corduroy. She knew some woman had lovingly stitched each piece, not really thinking about her work as art. Jo admired the patience it took to build this quilt. She would never have been able to sit still long enough to sew one, let alone create something this intricate.
She and Zoey barely had time to be together, it seemed to her, let alone to indulge in artistic pursuits. Though they had been lovers for only a few months, their respective jobs had interfered with both the quality and the quantity of time that they had to spend with each other. Jo's position as Juvenile Probation Supervisor in Duluth, Minnesota, and Zoey's tenure-track professorship at the university were both demanding of their time and energy.
Zoey had suggested on the ride up that it would be nice for them to reconnect and talk after another hectic week. Jo, on the other hand, had found herself wanting to spend the entire two weeks of their planned vacation in bed.
Her intense work life, dealing with juveniles who had run afoul of the law and needed persistent guidance and monitoring, kept her days busy and her talents engaged. She often worried about the welfare of her staff as well. Sometimes she felt like a nurse in an intensive care unit. Taking a break might cost someone's life.
When she was off duty, her time with Zoey was equally if not more intense. Even when they told each other that tonight they should really get some sleep, they ended up having sex well into the early morning hours. At age forty, Jo was starting to feel the strain, but she couldn't help herself. The sex was likely to taper off as time went on, but Jo hoped that wouldn't be anytime soon.
She was more in love with Zoey after just a few short months than she had ever been with anyone before. Maybe the life-and-death experience they had shared as their relationship was forming had something to do with it.
Jo flashed on the night at her home when she and Zoey had knocked out a crazed killer in her shop. She remembered the almost total darkness. Without a rehearsal and no second chance to get it right, Zoey had flipped on the light switch at the exact instant when Jo had swung the crowbar to take down the hit man. Jo wondered if Zoey kept replaying that scene over and over in her mind, too.
She knew they both needed this vacation, but letting go of work and totally relaxing might be a stretch for Jo. Her thoughts often focused on crime and the temptations that juveniles were prey to. She couldn't go into a store without eyeing the place for shoplifters, or leave items in plain sight in her car, fearing would-be thieves. She even found herself ranting to her friends about the lack of security in their homes.
What kind of crime could they have way out here in Big Noise? she asked herself. Plenty, came her unbidden but candid reply. Then she caught herself. Working in the criminal justice system gave one a true view of the amount of bad behavior going on, but it didn't help to become so jaded that you overlooked the good in people.
Big Noise, a community located forty miles north of Jo's home in Duluth and twenty miles inland from Lake Superior, was composed of several hundred scattered residences. It was settled during the logging boom of the early 1900s. The loggers would come out of the woods after a hard day of work, drawn to a tavern by the noise. A village de
veloped near this social meeting place, and the name Big Noise just stuck.
Jo enjoyed coming here to visit her good friends Sandy and Ree and to experience the close-knit community that these two women were so much a part of — Sandy as the town's postmistress and Ree as a physician who volunteered on the ambulance crew for area emergencies. They had their responsibilities and stresses, but the pace seemed easier here than in Duluth.
Looking down at Zoey, whose eyes were half closed, Jo's thoughts returned to the present and to the luxury of having Zoey in her arms for hours and days and endless nights. When they made love, Jo's mind let go of everything, and she was open in a way that she had never thought possible with a lover. She hoped that this deep-woods retreat would be just what she needed to get away from it all and give Zoey her undivided attention.
Zoey's eyes were fully open now, and she was looking at Jo with curiosity.
"What are you thinking about so hard?"
"I'm hoping that the bed is comfortable," Jo gave Zoey her most winsome smile.
"You have a one-track mind, which is one of the things I like best about you."
Zoey snuggled in closer, and Jo breathed in the smell of her short dark hair. "You don't wish I was more complicated, so you could use that brilliant psychoanalytic brain of yours to figure me out?"
"Nope, I've already figured you out. You're a bit compulsive, but I think you have a pure heart. Besides, the university provides me with plenty of undergraduates if I want to indulge in mental health diagnostics."
Jo knew that Zoey and her friend Donna were surveying every student who used the university's health center, testing for psychological problems, regardless of what ailment prompted their visit.
"How's that going?"
Zoey's whole face brightened as she described her research.
"It's going great!" She flashed a gorgeous smile. "Donna and I have been getting tons of data."
"So, what are you finding? Anything exciting?"
"We've found a lot of students with anxiety, some with depression, and we've even uncovered a few serious disorders that might have gone undetected if we hadn't been screening."
As Jo listened, she wondered how anyone could find data-crunching so fascinating, but she loved how smart and secure with herself Zoey seemed when she talked about her studies.
"What serious disorders did you find?" Jo raised her eyebrows.
"Well, we found two students who'd been hearing voices but never told anyone."
"What did you do?"
"We referred them to the community mental health center. They'll get meds and therapy."
"That's good."
"One really interesting case popped up last week. The guy didn't admit this to me, or even realize it was happening, but I believe I can accurately diagnose him with dissociative identity disorder."
Jo wasn't following.
"It used to be called multiple personality disorder. Or MPD."
"Is it dangerous?"
"It can be. It depends on the types of personalities present and what role they have in the overall functioning of the person. Usually one personality is the protector. I think I saw him briefly as I witnessed changes in the client's demeanor."
"Wow! You weren't alone with him, were you?"
"No. Because of the study's protocols, I had Donna with me."
"Geez, are you still seeing him?"
"No. He wouldn't accept a referral, either. He may come back for help at some point. Donna will call me if that happens."
Jo didn't relish the thought of this guy being anywhere near Zoey, but she wanted to trust that her partner knew what she was doing in her work life.
"What else are you finding?"
"Well, primarily we see depression. Some PTSD. Some problems combined with addiction."
Jo tried her best to stay focused on the study, but being in such close proximity with Professor Rundell was proving too much for her.
Suddenly, she wrestled Zoey down to the ground and said, "You know what that academic stuff does to me. You've gone too far this time!"
Feigning resistance, Zoey said, "What are you going to do about it?"
Jo decided to let her actions speak for themselves, and she began to undo Zoey's purple flannel shirt one button at a time. Again Zoey feigned resistance. In order to relieve Zoey of her shirtsleeves, Jo had to move her knees, which were immobilizing Zoey's arms. This gave Zoey an opportunity to turn the tables on her. She bucked her back up, flipped Jo over, and then pinned her down.
"OK, tough girl, what are you gonna do now?" she intoned.
She slowly unzipped Jo's fleece until she had it completely open.
Just when it looked like she was in the same predicament Jo had been in, not knowing how she could undress her without releasing her arms, she simply pulled Jo's bra up, exposing her breasts. Zoey lowered herself so that their chests were nearly touching, stopped, then sat upright, put her arms up in the air, and flexed her biceps.
"I am so in control here."
As quickly as the playfulness had begun, it turned into something more serious. Jo looked into Zoey's green, almost emerald eyes and thought, Whatever happens, I hope I don't screw this up or let her down.
"Let's go up to the loft," Zoey whispered.
"OK," Jo agreed. But before following Zoey up the narrow ladder, she reached for the exquisite quilt and carried it up to the bed they would share this night.
CHAPTER 2
A while later, unable to sleep, Jo got quietly up, trying not to disturb Zoey, and came back down the ladder. She stoked the fire with an all-night log, closed the damper, and gave her two dogs a rub. Java, a black lab with a white spot on his chest, and Cocoa, a springer chocolate lab mix, had been a little out of sorts because they couldn't climb up the ladder to get to the bed. They had whimpered for a while and finally settled into the couch below. The soft red glow of the fire flickered and played off the logs of the cabin's side walls.
Jo sometimes worried that her job would begin to wear on Zoey. Getting calls at all hours of the night, working late, and being hauled knee-deep into serious criminal matters had become almost routine for her. She was hoping that Zoey, even if she didn't exactly like these intrusions on their life together, could at least develop a tolerance for her line of work. This, more than anything, would give them a fighting chance.
But Jo knew that she often put herself in harm's way. Hell, she'd placed both of them in harm's way. So far, Zoey had been supportive rather than angry.
Jo shrugged into her parka and slipped out the cabin door. The moon was rising above the treeline, and Jo looked into its distant face.
What have I done in my life to deserve this happiness? And how long will it last?
Before she could fathom an answer, she felt a vibration coming from her coat pocket.
Cell towers must be going up everywhere, she thought to herself as she groped for her phone.
"Jo Spence, Juvenile Probation."
"Jo, it's me, Nate." Sergeant Jerome Nathan was Jo's primary contact in the Duluth Police Department. "Sorry to bother you so late, and I know you're supposed to be on vacation, but I just talked with a homeless teen who gave me some news. I thought you'd want to hear it right away."
"What's happened?"
"We picked up a runaway tonight who says she's been hanging out with Rick Thomas — you know, the kid you had as a juvie? Get this…she says he disappeared three weeks ago when they went up to Big Noise to stash some stolen property."
The phone cut out suddenly, and Jo hit redial.
"Nate, are you there. . .?"
The call went through right away, and Nate said, "Yeah."
"OK, so Rick is in trouble again?"
"Sounds like it. You know, he never stopped being an addict, no matter how hard you tried to help him."
"He could be a really sweet kid when he wasn't high. He was one I always worried about, though — he couldn't handle life on the streets without some kind of escape." Jo t
hought about his messed up family — a dad who beat the shit out of him and a drug-addicted mother. Jo had tried to help him get his life together. During the last eight years, she'd stayed in touch, off and on, trying to keep him on track.
She didn't often adopt her clients like that after their probationary stints expired, but with Rick it was different. After investing countless evenings in him, she couldn't just let go and hope for the best. Plus, after a while, she found that she really liked him. With a junkie, that was risky. But she had her reasons for hanging in there with him.
She couldn't forget the time when she had been cornered in an alley by a group of teenaged boys intent on showing her what manly men they were. He had stepped into the alley opening, a silhouette of pure determination.
