Close Up on Murder

by Linda Townsdin

  My neck tight with tension from this forced inactivity, I looked at Lars, now awake. “Have you been able to remember anything at all about that day on the lake? Did you see a big guy?”

  His hand hit the chair arm. “Don’t you think I’m trying? It’s on my mind all the time, but my memory of that is wiped out. The therapist said it might never come back.”

  I jumped at his outburst. Lars was the mediator, the compromiser. “I’m sorry, Lars. I shouldn’t pressure you.”

  He stared at Wolf Blitzer pointing to images on a big map and sighed. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I don’t know what just happened. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  “I know you want to remember more than anything. I’m too impatient.”

  “Wait a minute. I just got a flash of something.” He looked up at me, eyes wide. “Someone standing over me, a rain slicker with the hood pulled up, the face is in shadow.”

  I held my breath as he struggled for more and then slumped back against the chair. “Jaysus. It’s gone.”

  “But it was something. That’s great, Lars.”

  He frowned. “Not much.”

  Everyone on the lake that day wore rain gear and had their hoods up. But maybe more would come to him now that the door to his memory was ajar.

  Lars needed to lie down again. I tried to make him comfortable and went into the restaurant. Word must have traveled fast that Little was back in the kitchen. The booths were full. I sat at a small table with a cup of coffee in front of me, itching to do something. None of the writers’ group were at their usual table. Had they stopped coming in for afternoon coffee?

  I was still sitting there, my coffee untouched when Wilcox stopped by. He slid in across from me and barked orders. “Make sure you keep those alarms armed on the residence and restaurant after hours. With the three of you staying close and my deputies watching, it makes no sense for the killer to go after any of you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I doubt if he’s given up, though.”

  Lars’ mood had infected me. “This is no way to live. Eventually, something will happen like when Lars got fed up and went out alone in his boat. The killer will wait us out.”

  Wilcox’s jaw worked. “He has to wait too, and that must be hard for someone with vengeance on his mind. He wants to finish it. He’ll get sloppy.” He pointed a finger at me. “That’s why you’ll remain focused and stay put.”

  I rocked my coffee cup so hard it spun out of my hands and crashed to the floor. Conversations in the crowded restaurant stopped for a second. Chloe had the broom and dust pan out before I could get out of the booth. “Sorry,” I stammered.

  “You need to chill.” Wilcox left the restaurant, wiping his wet pant leg.

  I peeked in the kitchen. Little pulled fresh rolls out of the oven, dashed to the giant refrigerator for a covered dish and whirled around to answer a question from his helper. He didn’t even see me.

  Staying busy like my brother was the answer. I put on an apron and cleared tables while keeping a watchful eye on people coming and going. Every customer who entered the restaurant looked like a psychopath killer to me. I glanced out the bank of windows above the booths. A hint of sun tried to break through, but it wouldn’t have a chance—a dark cloud hovered behind it, waiting to make its move.

  After an hour, I checked the booths and tables to make sure all the dishes were cleared and waters and coffees filled before taking a break to see how Lars was doing. He dozed in front of the television, but snapped awake when I came in. “Why are you always spying on me?”

  “Sorry, I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  “I need to walk to the bathroom without feeling like I’m going to collapse. I need my memory. Have you got any of that for me?”

  I edged away apologizing again and stood by the back window looking out over the garage and street. A familiar pickup turned the corner by the garage. Matthew Willard drove. He turned left at the intersection and pulled into the northbound traffic. I punched in the sheriff’s number.

  Wilcox said, “We’ll find out what business he had in Spirit Lake today.”

  I grabbed my keys and camera. “It’s the second time I’ve seen him hanging around Little’s, Sheriff.”

  “What are you doing right now, Britt?”

  My hand was on the back door. “I’m going to follow him.”

  “Don’t. I’ll ask the highway patrol to check him out.”

  “Jerry’s out there. Tell him to go after the truck.”

  “Jerry stays where he is.”

  Wilcox reminded me again not to leave, then hung up. Lars came into the nook, his crutches propelling him forward. He lowered himself into a chair, arranged his cast as comfortably as he could in the small space and raised an eyebrow. “The look on your face just now. You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

  I set my keys and camera on the counter. “This place is Fort Knox. He can’t get to us in here. I know he’s not giving up, so what’s his next move?”

  “You want me to go fishing again or maybe try to get poisoned?”

  I’d missed his deadpan humor but this time it wasn’t funny. “Don’t joke about that.”

  Little came in, his eyes darting from me to Lars. “Joke about what?”

  Lars looked like he wanted to choke us. “I don’t need two mother hens.” He pushed himself up, positioned his crutches and lurched to the bedroom. The door slammed.

  Little said, “Lars never used to snap at me. I understand given what happened but it scares me.” He looked at the closed bedroom door, his shoulders drooping. “I might as well go back to the kitchen.”

  I followed and urged him into a corner where no one could hear us. “Have you talked to Dr. Fromm about the change in Lars’ personality? Sarah gave the doc permission to share any information about Lars with you. Ask him if this is normal, under the circumstances.”

  He lifted worried eyes to mine. “What if he’s always going to be like this now? Lately I’ve been thinking coming to Spirit Lake was a huge mistake. Maybe we should go back to Minneapolis.”

  My body sagged against the wall. I didn’t know what to say. Chloe spotted us and held up a food order. “Little, do you want to make this or should I ask Chum?”

  He sighed. “Take it to Chum. I have a call to make.”

  Peder came in shortly after and invited me to have tea with him. “It seems like a long time since I’ve seen you, Britt.”

  “Tea sounds good.” I was more than ready for the diversion and walked back toward the bistro with him. “Where’s the rest of your group?”

  We sat at a table for two. He said, “The workshop is officially over. Vik and the two students leave tomorrow. I haven’t seen Neil or Anke. It’s time for me to go back home as well.”

  “We’ll miss you at Little’s.” I didn’t blame any of them for clearing out. They’d all been questioned by the sheriff. Wilcox didn’t fill me in on the details, so I didn’t know if he was letting them leave town.

  “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed spending time here and getting to know all of you. By the way, that’s a nice blue kayak on your dock. I assume a gift from Ben?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “What blue kayak?”

  He looked alarmed. “Did I give something away?”

  I took off at a run. “It wasn’t Ben. I’ll have to have that tea another time.”

  Little stopped me mid-sprint for the door. “You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone.”

  “Peder said someone left a kayak on my dock. I want to check it out.”

  Little called out. “Peder, do you mind running Britt to her cabin?”

  He came up behind me. “Not at all.” He trotted to keep up with me on the way to his boat and we were on the lake in minutes.

  The kayak had a big red bow wrapped around it. I jumped out of Peder’s boat and onto my dock. An envelope was taped to the seat. I tore it open and read an invitation for Little and me to come to dinner that night at Ginger and Mo’s at eight p.
m. Please rsvp.

  I waved the invitation in the air. “This guy thinks he can buy me off with a kayak?” I told Peder the story.

  He said, “You must be careful. He sounds aggressive.”

  I started to thank Peder for always being there when I needed him, when something Ben said came back to me. “This isn’t the first time Little has asked you to keep an eye on me, is it?”

  He did the deer-in-the-headlights blink. “It’s been my pleasure, believe me.”

  I was irritated at my brother for going behind my back, and slightly insulted that Peder was doing a favor for my brother when I’d assumed we were friends. “Thanks for the taxi service. Do you mind if we have tea another time? It’s getting late.”

  He nodded. “I really only stopped by to see how Lars is doing.”

  “They’ve started him on physical therapy already. His first session is tomorrow. It seems soon to me, but that’s the way they do it.”

  Peder dropped me off at the city dock and turned his boat toward his cottage. “Please tell him hello for me.”

  Little was in the kitchen. I didn’t mention that I was aware of his subterfuge. He wanted to protect me and I might have done the same thing if our roles were reversed. I showed him the Bolgers’ invitation.

  “You can go if you want, but I’m not. Charley wanted us to have his place and we should honor his wishes, don’t you think?”

  I called Bolger and told him I couldn’t accept the kayak and declined the dinner invitation. He wouldn’t take no for an answer on the dinner, even when I told him again we still weren’t interested in selling.

  “Please come. We’ve already begun preparations. Ginger’s really looking forward to the evening. She gets lonely up here.”

  His smooth voice reminded me of my ex, an expert at using charm to get what he wanted. I agreed because I still hadn’t quite figured him out.

  Before heading to dinner, I called a friend at Lakeshore Realty, the company that owned the building where the StarTrib bureau was located. After I hung up, I wished I’d called him sooner.

  That evening, with special dispensation from Wilcox to drive myself, I loaded the kayak into my SUV and headed for the Bolgers’ summer home. Wilcox told me Eddy would be parked outside with instructions to call Jerry if anything suspicious occurred. I set the kayak beside the house and rang the bell.

  Ginger and Mo offered champagne and were disappointed when I declined, but I made up for it by tasting and complimenting every appetizer the server presented. We sat down to dinner and I devoured each course under their watchful eyes. When we’d finished, I suppressed a burp and pushed my plate away, feeling like a fatted calf. “That was the best meal I’ve had in weeks. Thank you.”

  Whitened teeth gleaming in the chandelier’s light, the Bolgers smiled at my appreciation and we moved outside. I sank into a cushy deck sofa. Conveniently placed on the coffee table, Ginger opened an album of their daughter’s engagement photos. She described in detail the fabulous wedding they were planning. After I’d admired the daughter’s beauty and congratulated them, Mo beckoned for me to join him on the deck overlooking the lake.

  He talked about his plans for Charley’s land. I reminded them we weren’t selling but Mo wasn’t hearing me. “We’d tear it down and build a smaller version of this house, similar to the one we built for our son.” He pointed at the woods toward Charley’s. “We’d create a pathway between the homes but leave most of the trees.” He winked. “Newlyweds need their privacy.”

  Surprised I’d kept my temper this long, knowing that everything he’d said all night was a lie, I left the couch and stood facing him. “Mo, we both know the reason you want Charley’s property has nothing to do with your family. You want to build a mega-resort on the southern tip of Spirit Lake and have been buying up as much land as possible for several years now.” I crossed my arms. “Selling to you so you can destroy the eco-system of this lake just to make more money is the last thing I’ll ever do.”

  Mo’s jugular jumped and he started for me. I put up a hand. “Not a good idea, Mo. A sheriff’s deputy is sitting outside right now. Take a look.” He didn’t need to know it was Eddy, probably snoozing.

  Ginger’s head swiveled from Mo to me, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. I backed toward the door. “I can find my own way out. Thank you for the dinner.”

  His angry growl followed me out the door. “Not going to sell to me? We’ll see about that.”

  Eddy followed me back to Little’s and I was thankful for the company. The reason I’d accepted the Bolgers’ invitation had been to watch them squirm when I exposed their lie but I couldn’t deny that Bolger frightened me.

  Chapter 22

  In a food-stupor from stuffing myself at the Bolgers’ dinner table and tired after the long day, I wanted to sleep but still had work to do. I dozed for a few hours and woke when my alarm beeped at three a.m.

  Wearing a long-sleeved black turtleneck, pants and ski mask I’d packed the last time I went to my cabin, I was ready to sneak back to see if Sebastian had answered my email. I peeked out the kitchen window.

  Jerry’s Branson County Sheriff’s vehicle was parked across from the back door. He would move his car to the front parking lot off and on during the long night. A car passed, its lights illuminating the street. Eddy doing his rounds. Likely bored with the routine, he pulled up next to Jerry and chatted for a few minutes.

  Transformed into a shadow, I took that opportunity to slip out the back door, reset the alarm and step behind a lilac bush. The sliver of moon was in my favor as I faded into the trees behind the bistro.

  Eddy drove away. They hadn’t seen me—not real comforting. My face itched under the ski mask but I didn’t dare lift it. I intended to take the Paul Bunyan Trail, the quickest route to my cabin and I’d be less visible than on the road, but a light flickering in a back window of the garage stopped me. I waited, and it flickered again.

  Had the Willards been casing the garage earlier with a plan to come back tonight and do damage? The fire at Rob’s flashed across my mind. Or maybe Mo Bolger intended to demonstrate one of his strong-arm techniques. If I went in alone to look, I could get hurt. If I called Jerry, whoever was in there might hear me and get away.

  Leaving the cover of trees, I inched around the back to the garage. Jerry’s car faced the other direction, toward the restaurant. Lars always left the garage door open. Whoever was inside would have to come out eventually and this was the only way in or out other than the electronic garage doors facing the street.

  I peered into the ink-black space. A workshop area was separated by a door next to where the guys’ cars were parked. A couple of grease-stained easy chairs on an oval braided rug were across from a workbench. Nothing moved. I slipped inside and crept to the door into the garage and peeked inside. I didn’t smell smoke. Little’s Jeep hood was up. Muffled noises came from behind it and a pinpoint of light flashed. I reached in my back pocket for my SIG Sauer and came up empty-handed. Not the best time to forget it. Who was I kidding anyway? Could I see myself telling someone to come out with his hands up?

  I crept back outside and texted Jerry. He might shoot me if I loomed up at his car window dressed all in black.

  –It’s Britt. There’s someone messing with Little’s Jeep in the garage.

  –Where are you?

  –I’m over by the workshop door in case he tries to get away.

  –Get away from there! I’m coming now.

  Jerry’s car door opened. I turned to move farther away when someone flew out the garage door, slammed into me and knocked us both to the ground. Before I could recover, he scrambled over me and took off into the woods behind the bistro.

  Jerry ran up with his gun drawn. “Are you hurt?”

  The breath was knocked out of me for a second but I jumped to my feet. “Go after him.”

  He raced to the edge of the woods, then turned back. “That’s as far as I can go. My orders are to stay with th
e residence.” He called Wilcox, listened and hung up.

  “Jerry, he’ll get away.” I wanted to make him chase the guy but it was already too late.

  He said, “Wilcox is on his way.”

  “Get Eddy then, tell him to keep his eyes open.”

  “Eddy’s better off nowhere near that guy.”

  When Wilcox arrived, I explained, but with a slight factual error. “I couldn’t sleep and happened to look out the kitchen window. A light flickered in the garage and I went out to tell Jerry. The guy came flying out of the garage and knocked me down. I don’t think he saw me.” It embarrassed me that he’d caught me off guard. “He hit low at my knees and didn’t seem to be muscular, fast though.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  “Black ski mask, dark clothing. I couldn’t tell his height, but average weight.” It occurred to me that it wasn’t necessarily a man.

  It didn’t take long for them to discover what the masked person was doing in the garage. The brake lines had been cut on the Jeep and Lars’ SUV next to it.

  When Wilcox finished with the garage and coordinating with Thor, he pulled his cowboy hat low over his forehead, a sign he was agitated. “I scheduled Seth to follow Little and Lars to therapy tomorrow, but no telling what could have happened.” He turned to Jerry, thunder in his voice. “How did you miss this?”

  I stepped up. “There’s no garage window where Jerry was parked. It’s only a fluke that I happened to be looking toward the back and saw the light flicker.”

  Wilcox shifted his gaze to me, took in the ski mask sticking out of my pocket, my black hoodie and jeans. “What the hell were you are doing wearing that get up at three in the morning?” He took off his hat and worked the brim like he was squeezing my neck.

  I was grateful he went for the hat instead, but I was done with back-peddling. “It’s time for the hunted to be the hunter, Sheriff. That’s what I’m doing. My understanding is that you need all the help you can get since the BCA isn’t available. I guess we’re not important enough for them.”