Dead Insider

by Victoria Houston

  He saw no point in burdening the poor woman with more details than were necessary. And Mallory was doing okay. The trauma physician found no bruising inside the throat, nothing torn or broken in spite of the initial pain from the pressure on her neck. The black eye should be gone in a week.

  “But the other woman, the one who was so terribly burned when her house exploded. Chief Ferris, didn’t you say that the report from the fire department was that someone had turned on all the burners on the gas stove in that old house?”

  “Yes,” said Lew. “We’ll never prove it, but since Dr. Osborne was there two days ago when Lauren barged into the house without knocking, angry that Kaye was planning a memorial service for Jane Ericsson, I am convinced she snuck in and turned on the gas—possibly while Kaye was asleep. Kaye has a habit of taking long naps in her rocking chair. With the amount of gas that had filled that house, all that was needed was a tiny spark from a move as simple as pressing the latch on the screen door—”

  “Or moving the rocking chair,” said Osborne. “Kaye is not senile, so it is highly unlikely she turned on the gas jets herself.”

  “Will she die?” asked Judith.

  “No,” said Osborne, “I checked with the MDs in the burn unit where she is being treated, and the good news is that she has stabilized. She will need skin grafts and there will be some scarring, but they expect her to recover. Kaye has many friends who are willing to help, so the prognosis is good—not great, but good. Does that help?”

  “Yes, a great deal. Chief Ferris, you must have questions for me,” said Judith. “If not now, eventually, so please don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

  “I do, but I am not sure you are up for answering them at the moment,” said Lew. “Try me,” said Judith. “The more we know, the more we can put behind us.”

  “I have two questions,” said Lew, pausing before she continued. “The big one is why Lauren would have turned on Jane Ericsson. Jane trusted her. Based on what the other staff people on the campaign say, she seems to have admired Lauren. She was paying her well …”

  “Jane Ericsson must have said ‘no’ to something,” said Judith. “Something important to Lauren. It’s the ‘no’ that sets her off.”

  “We think that Lauren had almost convinced Jane to include her in her will,” said Lew. “To rewrite the will: to remove Kaye Lund, whom Jane had known since childhood, and add Lauren.”

  “Something else, Chief Ferris,” said Osborne. “We know she was siphoning funds from the campaign. Could Jane have confronted her on that?”

  “To expect to get away with either doesn’t make a lot of sense,” said Lew. “Although she could have escaped with the money, I guess. We know she has several hundred thousand hidden somewhere.”

  “You think reality meant anything to Lauren?” asked Judith. It was a rhetorical question. “She lived in her own world, a fantasy world where she got what she wanted, or else.”

  “But why the cutting? Why dismember the body?” asked Lew.

  “She did that before. Remember I told you she cut up all of her ex-husband’s personal clothing? I didn’t mention that after her little sister’s death, I found clothing of Mari’s cut up and hidden. It was Lauren’s way of making what troubled her disappear.”

  “She could say that Jane had disappeared after an alcoholic binge,” said Osborne. “Maybe fallen off the proverbial dock and never seen again. Happens up here.”

  “Dr. Osborne has a point,” said Lew. “It was only by a stroke of luck that the utility worker spotted those bundles in the midst of the storm and flooding. If he hadn’t thought he was seeing someone’s prize venison roasts, we could still be searching for a missing candidate for the U.S. Senate.

  “Something that occurs to me is how much media attention this has gotten. In a funny way, it’s possible that Lauren could have stepped into Jane’s shoes—not run for office, but certainly be the focus of attention nationwide.”

  “I told you she could steal your soul. She did her best to steal mine.”

  “But the murder of Mike Kelly confounds me,” said Lew. “We know she did it, because she had Jane’s phone in her car. We found the phone this morning. And we know it was her voice on that victim’s voicemail that lured him to Jane’s house. Would she have killed him for fifty thousand dollars?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Judith. “I believe I told you I cut her off the minute she escaped from that psychiatric hospital. I don’t know what she’s been living on since.”

  “Then why not dismember Mike Kelly’s body, too?”

  “Not the same. She wanted the money. She may not have liked that person, but she wouldn’t have fixated on him like she did with this Ericsson woman. You know, it surprises me that Jane Ericsson didn’t see something off-kilter in Lauren’s behavior.”

  “Not me,” said Osborne. “I knew her father and mother. People like the Ericssons, who are handsome individuals born into prestige and money, tend to be sloppy in their interactions with others. They assume the people who work for them will do whatever they’re told. They assume a natural authority, and don’t care to be bothered with ‘little’ stuff. I’m under the impression that Lauren did a very good job controlling everything for Jane—even covering up for her binge drinking.”

  “Last question, Judith,” said Lew. “Regarding the murder and dismemberment of Jane Ericsson—do you think she planned ahead?”

  Judith closed her eyes and shook her head. “Honestly, Chief Ferris—how on earth would I know? I’m no psychopath.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By late Friday afternoon, media interest in the Ericsson murder had waned, and Lew felt comfortable taking the afternoon off. Earlier that morning Osborne had said good-bye to Mallory and Kenton as they headed off to Chicago, two days later than they had planned.

  Now, with afternoon temperatures balmy in the low eighties, it was decided that the dock at Osborne’s would be the place to recuperate.

  “Bruce,” said Lew, stopping by the conference room where Bruce had set up his temporary headquarters. “After you finish those reports, would you like to join Doc and myself out at his place? We expect Ray to drop by when he’s back from checking on Kaye.”

  She did not have to twist Bruce’s arm.

  The afternoon was classic northern Wisconsin in the summertime: the lake sparkling as if someone had laid a cloak of diamonds across gentle waves, the sky overhead a brilliant blue, and not even the whine of a jet ski to mar the peace.

  Anxious to get out of her uniform and unload her holsters—one each for the gun, the cell phone, and the walkie-talkie—Lew had rushed to pull on her favorite black and white striped swimsuit. Once on the lounge chair, she pulled a wide-brimmed straw hat down over her eyes and settled back to let the sunlight and an easy breeze wash away the stress of the past week.

  Osborne lay next to her. He wore a scruffy pair of Bermuda shorts that were at least twenty years old, and a faded red T-shirt dating back to his dental school days. It was an outfit that Mary Lee had banned, so he had crammed the shorts and shirt into a file drawer in the secret office that he had managed to shoehorn into a small space behind the garage porch, an area he’d been allotted for cleaning fish and fowl. An area Mary Lee had avoided.

  On one of Lew’s first visits to his place, Osborne had tested out her response to his crummy shorts and shirt. She hadn’t blinked. “Don’t you look comfy, Doc? How the hell long have you owned those?” His confession had made her laugh.

  With Lew and Osborne relaxing on the two lounge chairs, Bruce plopped himself into one of four green Adirondack chairs lined up to face west. Cell phone to his ear, he fielded a call from one of his colleagues at the Wausau Crime Lab, who was wondering when he would return. He, too, was basking in shorts, but they were hidden under an oversized Hawaiian shirt destined to frighten any fish approaching the dock, at least according to Lew.

  “Tell them Monday,” said Lew, overhearing his conversation and speaking from
under her hat. “They’re just jealous ’cause you were interviewed on the national evening news.” She pushed the hat up and glanced over at Bruce. “Seriously, I owe you some time on muskie water. How about tomorrow morning before it gets too hot?”

  “You got it,” said Bruce. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I don’t need an excuse.”

  “All righty, then,” said Lew. “We have a plan.” And she pulled the hat back down over her eyes.

  The only occupant on the dock not wearing shorts was the dog. On returning from the morgue after Judith Barrington identified her daughter, Osborne had been worried about Mike. When leaving the house to rush Mallory to the hospital after she was attacked, he had made sure to leave the yard gate open, hoping the black Lab would find his way home. To Osborne’s great relief, the dog showed up later that day. He was hungry and covered with burrs, but otherwise unscathed.

  A quick, happy bark from Mike, who was curled up at Osborne’s feet, signaled Ray’s arrival. Ray, skipping down the stone walkway to the dock, was resplendent in khaki shorts and a fishing shirt, sleeves rolled up, to match. The repaired hat with its reinvigorated stuffed trout was stuck firmly on his head.

  “Hey, look what I caught coming through the rye …”

  “Coming through Loon Lake, you mean,” said Christina, taking the stone stairs two at a time behind Ray.

  “She’s brought photos of the vending machines her old man is helping me buy,” said Ray.

  “Tell us about Kaye first,” said Osborne, straightening up in his chair. “How’s she doing?”

  “She is looking swell,” said Ray. “The bandages on her arms and face have come off. She’s healing nicely. But the great news is she got the call from the executor on Jane Ericsson’s estate. Yesterday. She … cannot … believe it. She is beside herself.”

  “I’m sure she never expected to be named in the will,” said Lew. She sat up as she said, “Ray, I’m curious. Do you think Lauren was telling the truth when she said that Kaye had threatened to blackmail Jane regarding that affair you two had?”

  “What?” asked Christina, her eyes wide as she threw a questioning look at Ray.

  “Tell you about it later,” said Ray, raising a finger to his lips and hoping Lew would get the hint. “But to answer your question, Chief: I asked Kaye about that. I found it hard to believe she would do any such thing.

  “Kaye said she never asked for money to keep quiet. What she did do—and she’s not proud of it—is when Jane told her she was fired, Kaye threw the affair in her face. She said something to the effect of, ‘You think you’re perfect, you think you got the race nailed—I could do you a lot of damage if I wanted to.’

  “But she did not, absolutely did not, make any mention of keeping her mouth shut for money. And I believe her.”

  “You have got to tell me more,” said Christina. “What is this affair you people are talking about?”

  “I will, I will—later,” said Ray, rolling his eyes.

  Bruce chuckled. “Hey, hope you blog it, bud,” he said, and got a dark look.

  “She must be thrilled to be inheriting all that money and the land,” said Osborne. “Suddenly Kaye is a rich woman, as rich as Jane Ericsson was.”

  “Richer,” said Lew. “Kaye may not be perfect, but she has a good heart.”

  “And she has a plan for the money,” said Ray. “She wants to turn Jane’s new house into an environmental lab open to the public, call it the Ericsson-Lund Natural Resources Center. She wants it to be a place for research and classes about managing and preserving that old growth hemlock forest, as well as other northern Wisconsin natural resources. She’s just starting to think about it.”

  “I should talk to her,” said Bruce. “I have some scientist friends who might be interested.”

  “She wants to preserve trees, not dead bodies,” said Ray.

  “Come on, you know what I mean.”

  “Hey, can I show you these?” asked Ray, eager to change the subject. “Look.” He laid out six photos of different vending machines. “We’re going to start with three and see how it goes. Christina’s father is putting up the initial investment, but I have to pay him back half of that once the business is rolling.”

  After a quick study of the photos, Osborne asked, “Do any of these come with a backup generator, or battery pack of some kind?”

  “Yes, this one,” said Ray, pointing. “That’s the one we like, too.”

  “And you’ll have all three of these installed in this area?” asked Lew.

  “Yep. Starting next May, with opening fishing season.”

  “Chief Ferris, I have a question,” said Christina. “I was here when those body parts were found. Have any more surfaced?”

  “Thank you for ruining my afternoon,” said Lew. She sat up, setting her sun hat aside, and reached for a glass of iced tea. “The answer is no. Not yet. My nightmare is that some youngster out fishing this fall or next spring is going to hook one of those bundles that made it into the Tomorrow River and …”

  “And?” asked Bruce, his eyebrows bouncing with delight.

  “We’ll hear the scream all the way in Loon Lake, is what will happen. We’ll have to put the poor kid in therapy,” said Lew with a laugh. “Jeez Louise, I hope and pray that what remains of poor Jane Ericsson rests forever at the bottom of the Tomorrow River.”

  “How ’bout the money?” asked Ray. “Any luck finding where that has been stashed?”

  “This is the last we discuss this case today, agreed?” said Lew. “I want my weekend off. So the final word on the money issue is this: Dani did a search of gas and electricity accounts through Wisconsin Public Service, and found that Lauren had an account. She used her own name to get approved for service to a small cabin up in Manitowish Waters. Todd searched it this morning and found cash, cashier’s checks, and a one-way plane ticket to Barbados. The woman had plans. But to answer your question—yes, I think we’ve found all the money.”

  “If she had a place in Manitowish Waters, I’m convinced she did try to steal those hair extensions from my gallery,” said Christina.

  Osborne perked up. “Like Kenton said: it’s a person’s bad habits that give them away. Lauren’s mother said she had been caught shoplifting more than once.”

  “Speaking of Kenton,” said Ray, “will Mallory be inviting him back?”

  “Har-de-har-har,” said Osborne, dismissing the subject. “Would you and Christina like to sit down and have an iced tea?”

  “Thanks, Doc. We have plans,” said Ray. “Bruce, come join us for fish fry—these two need a break from us. Right?” Osborne and Lew just smiled.

  When they had gone, Osborne turned sideways on his lounge chair. It wasn’t often that he got to enjoy seeing Lew in her swimsuit. Her figure was stalwart, her breasts firm and inviting: a promise of the pleasant evening ahead.

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  Mystery Series:

  Dead Tease

  Dead Deceiver

  Dead Renegade

  Dead Hot Shot

  Dead Madonna

  Dead Boogie

  Dead Jitterbug

  Dead Hot Mama

  Dead Frenzy

  Dead Water

  Dead Creek

  Dead Angler

  Copyright © 2013 by Victoria Houston.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

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