The Murder in Red Arch

by J. Valentine

  “That’s a good point.”

  “If you knew someone around here with a huge lifted truck, you’d be golden,” Max laughed.

  “The country club waiter! Richard Miller!”

  “That Qanon weirdo?” Max asked.

  “That’s the one,” Olivia laughed.

  ***

  She was praying he’d be home. She drove her car down the long highway, looking for the entry to the strange man’s property. She found it, and drove up to the trailer. His bug out truck was in view. She looked at it again, looking at the lifted axel, and big durable winter tires, studded to the gills. This will definitely get us up there, she thought to herself. She climbed over the middle console, and exited the passenger side, and ran up to the door. She knocked, and smiled at the man’s security camera.

  It turned to look at her. There was a buzzer, allowing her entry back into the home.

  It looked just as insane as before. Papers strewn over the ground, articles, newspapers, studies, and more. She looked at one of the studies pinned up close to the trailer’s entry. She read over it and saw that some water treatment plant was dumping chemicals into the water supply that turned local frogs from males to females. She thought for sure this must be fake news, and some nonsense.

  “They turned the frogs gay. It sounds crazy I know, but it is true,” Richard told her.

  “Wow,” she said, awkwardly not knowing how to respond. She looked behind him and saw a literal tin foil hat on the table.

  He noticed her wandering eyes. “That’s a joke, don’t worry about it. Why are you here?” He demanded.

  “I have a favor to ask you.”

  “Is it about the case?” He looked out the window, “you weren’t followed were you?” He asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she did her best to calm him. “Yes it’s about the case.”

  “What do you need? They better find the killer. That bastard,” he seemed genuinely upset.

  “I was wondering if you would be able to drive me up to the Cartwright cabin in your truck. My car can’t make it through the,”

  “The snow,” he interrupted, nodding. “What’s in it for me? An aiding and abetting charge?”

  “Hey I just want a ride. You don’t know if I’m breaking any laws once you drop me off.”

  “That’s true. It’s a couple hours up there,” he told her.

  “How’s two hundred dollars sound?” She offered.

  “Three hundred,” he lifted his chin up and to the side, without breaking eye contact, readying himself to continue the negotiation.

  “Deal.”

  ***

  She sent him the money through email right then and there. He quickly bought three hundred CAD worth of bitcoin, and they were ready to go. He put on a snow suit, and grabbed all the supplies he could. Grappling hook, torches, a bottle of whiskey, his tinfoil hat, he disconnected his hard drive from his computer (as he always did when leaving the house), a hunting knife, bear mace, military MRE meal replacements, a space blanket, and his hunting rifle. Olivia wasn’t sure exactly why he felt the need to bring the strange array of items, but she didn’t say anything as to not offend him.

  He loaded everything into the back of the truck, and assisted Olivia in getting into the lifted truck. He reached to place his hand on her buttocks, and hold her arm, as she stepped onto the running board.

  Are you fucking kidding me, she thought to herself. “I think I can manage to get in the truck myself Richard.” She leered at him.

  “Only trying to help a lady,” he explained.

  Whatever, it’s probably the first ass he’s touched in years. How else can I get up north to the cabin, other than hitching a ride with this creep, she shook her head.

  He unlocked the massive lock attached to a long chain link tying his steering wheel in place as a theft deterrent. Olivia looked around the truck and realized it was just as crazy as the interior of his trailer. Camo seat covers, a fire extinguisher sitting in the middle console, probably five first aid kits strewn about, a big axe by his side affixed to the driver door, and an air compressor for flat tires Olivia hoped.

  Richard took off his glasses, and swapped them with the sunglasses he kept attached to the sun visor. He put them on like he thought he was a character in an action movie.

  “Let’s do this,” he told her.

  She gave him the thumbs up in return.

  He annoyingly drove the speed limit, as to avoid any traffic infractions and interactions with the police he despised. He made a full stop at every stop sign, and never rolled through. Olivia thought it a bit funny, and sad, the level of paranoia the man lived in.

  The roads progressively got worse and worse the further north they went. Still, a light snowfall fell, making it just difficult enough for the snow plow drivers to keep up since the intense winter’s blizzard. Olivia did her best to avoid conversation with the man. Avoiding topics like the flat earth, something about politicians ordering pizza, how space is fake, evolution is a lie, and how global warming is a myth and carbon is actually good for the earth. She nodded along and told him how interesting it all was. Doing her best not to humor him.

  After about an hour of driving, and the man slowing down to account for the increase in snowfall, Olivia began to get a bit bored, and decided to try to learn more about this interesting character she had found herself attached to. She couldn’t hold out much longer.

  “So why..” she began but was quickly interrupted.

  “Why am I like this? I get that a lot. I used to not like conspiracy theories and thought they were silly. Then more and more started coming true. Edward Snowden, the NSA, Russia. Then I started doing more research online. Then more and more started coming true. It all started to make more sense, and I was beginning to see who the true puppet masters were,” he explained.

  She quickly realized where this was going, and thought better of humoring him any longer. Part easy through his rant, she interrupted him.

  “Do you mind if we just don’t talk much? I'm trying to focus on the case, and what I’m about to do.”

  He motioned a zipper closing his mouth, then said, “I understand completely. Won't hear anymore from me. I get the same way when I get deep into my research…”

  After a few minutes he quieted. Leaving Olivia to focus on the task at hand.

  Chapter 24

  Richard Miller slowed down the bug out truck as they approached a clearing in the trees. The road that way had a foot of snow along it, totally ignored by the busy snow plows. She looked on at it, and was overcome with sadness. Knowing it would be near impossible to make it through the five kilometer road towards the cabins. She looked down, devastated that she had come this far, only to hit another blockade.

  “Wow that looks deep,” Richard told her.

  “Yes Richard it does,” Olivia agreed with him.

  “Do you want my cross country skis?”

  She looked up at him, and smiled, relieved that she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. “That would be wonderful Richard,” she reached over and touched his arm. She was surprised by how muscled and toned it was. Like a… much shorter version of Brad.

  He smiled back at her.

  They hoped out of the ridiculous doomsday truck, and landed on the freshly fallen snow. He opened the cab, and slid out his skis, handing them to Olivia, grabbing his ski boots and poles from the back seat. She slid the boots on, and was surprised to see they were a perfect fit, she looked up at him and smiled.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  “Nothing,” she smiled, doing her best to not crack any jokes aloud. She was very grateful for everything the strange character had done to help her on her journey. If she wasn’t so in love with Brad, she may have actually given the guy a chance.

  She finished getting prepared. Richard packed a bag for her. Giving her a multi tool, knife, first aid kit, and a few other things she wasn’t sure she’d need.

  “If you’re not back by dusk, I’ll co
me in looking for you,” he said bravely. “Be careful.”

  “Don’t come in there. Just call Brad and he’ll send someone. If I’m not back by then, I’ll want the police,” she wisely told him, and gave him Brad’s cell number.

  “I will,” he agreed. He went back into the truck and came out with two-way radios. “These are good for a few kilometers. Let me know if anything bad happens. When you get to the cabin, they likely won't reach.”

  “Thank you,” she told him, looking into his eyes.

  The first few kilometers were easy as they were mostly downhill. Making her way through the ungroomed hills and valleys was difficult, but she managed. She had five hours or so until sundown going by the time of year. She knew she could make it there, find what she needed, and come back just in time.

  Before she knew it she could see the tree clearing telling her this was the turn towards the Cartwright cabin. It was just in time to, as her fingers and toes were beginning to ache. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her face, doing her best to avoid any unwanted damage to her beauty. If she lost a finger tip or a pinky toe to the cold, it would all be worth it if she found what she was looking for.

  This is horrible. What was I thinking? Cross country skiing to break into a cabin owned by a rich northern Ontario family intertwined in town politics with a trans father psychologist murdered by a mystery person. And I’m investigating her own family? At the request of my client, a man who is currently sitting in jail awaiting to know if the crown attorney will charge him or not? And I might get frostbite for this!? Great job Olivia, this is really what you wanted when you told your dad you wanted to be a private investigator just like him? Was catching cheating spouses and insurance fraudsters not enough for you, you have to investigate murder?!

  When she saw the cabin, she was done feeling sorry for herself, and was overcome with satisfaction of actually making it there.

  ***

  The cabin was beautiful. Olivia began to laugh aloud when she saw a satellite dish displayed prominently at the front peak of the roof. So much for “getting away from it all and living off the grid” she thought to herself, laughing at the hypocrisy of Anna and Layla. Beautiful large old aged wood logs made up the structure, with a large front porch and stairs leading up to the red door. She could see the generator at the side of the cabin, feeding the cabin, and an oversized oil tank 15 feet away feeding it.

  As she walked up to the cabin, she fantasized, and thought about how nice it would be for Brad and her to own a little cabin like this. Maybe not as big, as this one was likely quite expensive, but more modest, and definitely without all the modern technology. No, they’d use it properly, just go up there a couple times per year to get away from it all, read, make love, and relax in each other's arms.

  The nice little fantasy quickly faded from her mind, as she had to focus on the task at hand. She did her best not to feed her anxiety. She knew it was unlikely she’d be caught. Richard Miller was likely the only other person in a ten kilometer radius of her. Maybe there was a hunter or something nearby, but the northern forest being so large, that was unlikely.

  She tried her luck on the front door. It was locked. She peered through the large window next to the door and looked inside. The interior was just as beautiful. Couches surrounding the fireplace, and… wall mounted television, and a cute little kitchenette off to the side of the living room. A spiral staircase leading upstairs. She jiggled the window and found it to be unlocked.

  “Yes!” she said aloud to herself, overcome with glee.

  She climbed through the window after taking off the well fitted ski boots and leaving them on the ground outside. Her foot slipped, and she almost knocked a candle off the table placed up to the window she was climbing through. She adjusted and jumped through over the table and on to the ground. She was inside.

  She looked around in the darkness. Some natural light was getting through the beautifully cased windows, but the overcast day made it quite dim. She took the flashlight Richard had packed for her in the bag he gave her, and looked around in the now illuminated room. She took a few pictures, and looked all over for any sign of blood.

  In the middle of the living room was a carpet being held down by a coffee table. She inspected the coffee table, and found a dark reddish brown substance on the table. God, Barry was right, she realized. She carefully moved the coffee table out of the way, thinking that more blood could be found underneath the carpet. How could the police have missed something this obvious. She carefully rolled up the carpet doing her best to avoid stepping on any evidence she may uncover.

  Her eyes gazed forward towards the kitchen for a moment and she saw a cute little chocolate fondue fountain. She looked back down, and saw no blood on the wooden floor boards. She walked back over and leaned down to the coffee table to inspect the blood more closely.

  “Nope, that’s definitely chocolate,” she laughed to herself trying her best not to cry at her own foolishness.

  Off to the side she saw a desk with papers strewn all about. She realized she didn’t have as much time as she wanted, as the short winter’s day was quickly coming to an end.

  “You there Richard?” She asked into the radio.

  Only static.

  She took out her phone, and began taking as many pictures as she could of everything on the table. She planned on going through them all later. Hoping maybe there could be some clue, but she knew it was a long shot.

  She went up the spiral staircase to find a bedroom. She scanned the area with her flashlight, but found nothing of any interest. She was jealous of the well crafted wooden bed frame and headboard. She pressed her hand down onto the firm mattress, and was even more jealous upon realizing how comfortable it felt. Far more comfortable than the couch Brad and her had slept together on, she laughed to herself.

  She was beginning to realize the trip was a bust and she had to get back. She climbed out the window, closing it, after retracing her steps, and ensuring she left no evidence of her being there. She put on the skis and started the trek back, disappointed.

  The sun was quickly setting, and she hoped she’d be able to make contact with Richard soon. She pulled out her radio.

  “Richardmph,” she muffled through her tightly wound scarf into the radio. The snow was beginning to fall harder, and the temperature was quickly dropping as the sun fell. The wind cold and harsh on her face.

  Only static returned her call.

  She knew she had less than an hour before sundown, and she had to pick up her pace. She tried again, “Richard, come in.”

  “Richard here, what’s your status, over,” he replied.

  Olivia was relieved to hear his voice again. “Status - all good. Should be back to the truck in about a half hour or so, over.”

  “Copy, keep me updated, over.”

  She made her way up the long hill, and could eventually see Richard’s waving hand after he got out of the truck. He was dorkily holding a road flare, as if she couldn’t already see him. She waved back and continued working her way up to him.

  ***

  “Cabin was a bust, didn’t find anything,” she told him, after getting back into the truck.

  “Damn,” he agreed with her.

  “Let’s head back.”

  They made the long drive back, sharing stories about different conspiracies. Olivia figured, why not, considering the long drive, she wanted to hear out some of his wild theories. He continued to press her about investigating politicians. She humbled him, but knew getting mixed up in that world, likely wasn’t worth it.

  Once back to his trailer, she hoped out, thanked him again, and crawled back over the middle console of the old civic, hoping that he wasn’t checking out the ass he’d copped a feel of earlier, and drove back home.

  Chapter 25

  “How was the cabin?” Max asked her as she walked through the door.

  “Hey Alvi!” She greeted the excited dog, patting him on the head, “Didn’t really find anything. M
aybe you can help me go through some of the photos I took. Hopefully I missed something?”

  “Yeah I can do that for you,” he could sense his sister’s sadness at the futile attempt.

  “I’ll share them with you over icloud, I have them all in a shared folder right now,” she updated the status of the album in her phone so her brother could have full access.

  “Got them,” he said, looking at his phone.

  “I’m gonna try to get some rest. I had to use Richard’s cross country skis to get to the cabin, and I’m pretty tired,” she laughed, before heading upstairs to her old bedroom.

  She took out her journal to do another entry. To rant about the horrible day, and horrible case.

  What a day. I thought I was going to get frostbite skiing to that damn cabin. And such a beautiful cabin, one day I’d like to have one just like it. Maybe for Brad and I to snuggle up in, and relax by a roaring fire.

  I just don’t know about this case anymore. Dead end after dead end. Hopefully something will turn up, but I think this one may go cold. I’m actually starting to get sick of Red Arch, even though I thought I loved it. Maybe I’ve gotten too used to this nomadic lifestyle of going from city to city. I want to get back down south. I miss the fast paced nature of the world down there.

  Her phone vibrated, alerting her to a text.

  “Hey,” Brad messaged her.

  “Hey Brad, what’s up?” She replied.

  “Can I get you to come by the station tomorrow morning? Barry is saying he has something else to tell you. He won’t tell us what.”

  “Yeah I can do that. See you in the morning. Have a good night,” she told him. She thought about inviting him over. Spending more time with him. But the thought of having to explain why her legs ached, and lying about going to the Cartwright cabin turned her off. Instead she just wanted to dismiss him, and go to sleep.

  Great, another mystery to keep me up at night. What does this guy want now, she thought, before heading off to bed.

  ***

  She could smell the coffee and sizzling bacon downstairs, as she woke up early that morning. A little too early for her, but there was no falling back asleep with that smell wafting into her bedroom. She quickly threw on some pajamas and a housecoat, and went downstairs. She could hear laughing over the sound coming from the kitchen’s range hood exhausting the strong bacon smell and smoke.