Dead Hot Shot (Loon Lake Fishing Mysteries) (5 page)

A pair of very long legs in blaze orange hunting pants appeared to flicker as they descended the steep drive in quick, skidding steps. It was Ray at last, his six-feet-six inches advancing in a loopy rhythm: the lower half arriving split seconds ahead of the upper half.

It was the latter — the late half — that Blue clutched, burying her head in the collar of the green and rust plaid shirt as she broke into sobs. Wrapping his arms around her, Ray pulled the girl close. As they stood together, both so tall, so lanky, they struck Osborne as an unlikely but interesting duo.

Ray’s deep tan along with his full head of auburn curls and beard (trimmed to what he called his “winter mode” — a modest four inches of more auburn curls, these laced with grey) contrasted with the girl’s pale, lightly freckled face and the fawn-colored spikes gracing her head. Their age difference, which had to be at least ten years, wasn’t easily apparent.

“Now how the hell?” Lew turned to Osborne in amazement. He shrugged. He had no idea how Ray might know the girl. Ray had certainly never mentioned her over morning coffee or during one of their lazy evenings in the boat that summer.

As they watched, Ray tipped his head close to Blue’s right ear, murmuring words they couldn’t hear. Wiping at her tears, the girl nodded as if to agree to whatever it was he’d said. Her father, observing the scenario in silence, pushed at his glasses, moved closer to Lew and Osborne and murmured, “I don’t know that man, do you?”

“Yes, we do,” they answered simultaneously, not taking their eyes off the couple as Ray gave the girl a hug, then released her with a pat on the back. Lew glanced over at Andy and said, “That’s Ray Pradt, the deputy I hire to shoot photos for incident reports. What I’m wondering is how he knows your daughter.”

As Lew spoke, Blue turned towards them in silence, waved to her father and hurried across the drive to the stone stairway leading up to the big house. Andy ran after her.

“Okay, fella, before you get started, I want to know how it is you know that young woman,” said Lew, keeping her voice low as Ray walked up. In addition to his hunting pants and canvas vest, he wore a square camera pack slung across his chest. A smaller camera was attached to his belt. Ray gave a slow smile but said nothing, taking his time to remove the larger camera from its case.

• • •

One of Pecore’s official duties as coroner was to photograph crime scenes, accidents and any other sites involved in an unnatural death. Osborne could handle the photography if pressed but it was Ray whose keen eyes complemented the camera lens in ways that had helped the Loon Lake Police find incriminating evidence in tire tracks and footprints that might have otherwise gone unnoticed.

But it was nature photography where he excelled and that he loved. He took pride in having shot photos good enough to be featured in a local insurance agency’s annual calendar and, more recently, purchased by Ralph’s Sporting Goods for use on their website. His series of Great Blue Heron photos often went for as much as ten bucks each on eBay!

As a result of Ray’s modest commercial success and also due to the fact that Pecore refused to learn to use a digital camera, Lew now leaned on Osborne’s neighbor to shoot crime and accident scenes even when Pecore was available. “He tracks with that lens just as he does with his eyes,” she would say when challenged on the extra expense. More than once she had urged Ray to take up photography as a profession but he always had the same answer: “Nah, that would mean a full-time job. No way!”

• • •

“How do I know Miss Reece — is that what you want to know, Chief?” said Ray. “Oh — well.” He paused, tipped his head to one side and raised an authoritative index finger. A bad sign: a signal that he was about to launch a lengthy discourse.

“Short version,” said Lew, “we’re running out of time. Be dark in a few hours.” Osborne had to resist a grin. Good luck. Given the slightest opportunity to be the center of attention, Ray could stretch out his words and pepper his sentences with long pauses — excruciating for a listener in a hurry. But Lew, hands on her hips, eyes black with impatience, was not up for wasting one more minute.

“I hear ya, Chief. Fact is — the old lady hired me to guide them on that fancy pontoon of theirs,” he gestured towards a pontoon boat barely visible in the boathouse off to the right. “I took ‘em out a couple times this past summer. Blue’s a sweet kid, but her mother. just obnoxious. Last time we went out she kept insisting that I wasn’t taking them to spots that looked ‘fishy’ enough. I tried explaining structure and that the surface can be, y’know. misleading — but she wouldn’t listen.

“Next she decides they have to switch over to fly rods ‘cause the spinning rods aren’t happening — some idiot told her she could catch muskies easier on a fly rod, and we know who that was, don’t we.”

“Ralph,” said Lew, trying to hurry the story along.

“Yeah, well, now. she makes me tie on these purplish blue Hotshots because the color matches the damn boat. Do we catch fish? N-o-o-o. So then. she pays me half what she owes b-e-e-e-cause her idea of a good day’s fishing is an outrageous number of fish caught versus — my belief — ”

“Romance, excitement and live bait — get it all fishing with Ray,” said Lew, jumping in to finish his sentence.

“Oh, have I said that before?”

“Many times — you know that.”

“Later, I took Blue out on her own — no charge — so she could experience a fine day’s fishing without. the old lady interfering. Blue’s okay, she’s a good kid.”

“All right, that makes sense,” said Lew. “Now that I know your connection to the family can we get started here? I need you to shoot everything before anyone other than the three of us enters this area extending from the boathouse to both property lines.”

“You got it,” said Ray. Then, assured that Lew was satisfied with his answer, he turned sideways and shot Osborne a look, serious and sad, that said it all: Of course, that’s not how he knows Blue Reece. But the rule is that only Blue can tell Lewellyn Ferris or anyone else how it is they know one another.

“Well, the mother happens to be problematic today, too,” said Lew, stepping back to point towards the dark figure on the shore behind her.

“No-o-o.” The surprise on Ray’s face was genuine. “You’re kidding. That’s Nolan Reece?”

• • •

“Jeez Louise, this gal kinda exceeds the design specs, doesn’t she,” said Ray as he helped Lew and Osborne gently roll the woman’s body onto its back before taking more photos. “They’re gonna need a custom cabinet for her.”

He had a point. Not even the black of her clothing could diminish the woman’s heft. Nolan Reece had carried her weight in her torso, which measured almost two feet from back to front. It wasn’t that the woman was fat so much as big. Large-boned and fleshy as happens to affluent people who dine too well and savor the expensive in wine and spirits. Osborne had only ever glimpsed her from a distance, but enough to recognize that alive she had been an imposing figure.

“Well-dressed, wouldn’t you say, Lew?” he asked, noting the victim’s jacket, which was heavily embroidered and ruffled at the cuffs. One foot still wore a black flat shoe, shiny with sequins — the other was bare. Oddly, the clothing — both jacket and pants — was snagged in multiple places, leaving tiny, loose threads to wave in the breeze. Having seen wrinkled linens and crushed skirts in his daughters’ wardrobes, Osborne wondered if snagged fabric was some current fashion statement.

“I’m sure it’s very expensive clothing, Doc,” said Lew. “The party the family gave last night was to announce the engagement of their daughter to a young man from Chicago. So everyone was celebrating until late. That’s why Andy thought his wife had left the party and gone to bed, which she’s been known to do after having a little too much to drink. He alleges that because they have separate bedrooms, he wasn’t aware that she’d left the house.

“So, Doc, would you go ahead with the dental exam before the EMTs move the body, please?”

“Certainly. I wasn’t sure you needed it given the family has identified — ”

“I need it and I’ll tell you why afterwards.”

As Osborne reached for his instrument bag, Ray moved back and out of the way. “This should only take a few minutes,” said Osborne, slipping on a pair of Nitrile gloves. He knelt beside the body and reached to brush aside clumps of wet hair obscuring the face.

Death had left the eyes open and dull, the mouth gaping. Down the left side of Nolan Reece’s head, starting above the temple, crossing the cheekbone and extending beyond the lower jaw was a reddish brown abrasion. Osborne felt along the outside of the jaw then slipped his fingers inside the open mouth. Where he expected to find teeth, he didn’t. Where he did find teeth, they were loose. Too loose.

“Lew,” said Osborne, his voice tense with concern, “you called Wausau, right?”

“Sure did. Why?”

“This is very strange.” He looked up from where he was hunched over the still form and gestured as he spoke. “On this side of the jaw, the teeth have been loosened. Recently. I’ll bet you the autopsy will show that happened before she died. See the length and general appearance of this abrasion? I think she was slugged with something long and hard like a bat, but with an edge to it.”

“Not a lightning strike?”

“Lightning has nothing to do with what I see here. This injury is similar to what I’ve treated in hockey players who’ve taken a puck in the mouth. For the players, the good news was I could usually push those teeth back in so they wouldn’t lose them.

“But that’s not all. On the right side of her upper jaw, there’s a large gap where a fixed bridge should be. We both know this is not a woman who would have been entertaining guests without her teeth. So my question is — where is her bridge?”

“Right,” said Lew, satisfaction spreading across her face. “I’ll show you where it is and now you’ll know why I called you and Ray — why I went out on a limb to call the Wausau Crime Lab on a national holiday.” She stepped up onto the dock and motioned for Osborne and Ray to follow.

“Holy cow,” said Ray as they walked out along the dock. They passed the shore station holding the bassboat, its hull sparkling in the sunlight. The boat was suspended so high over the water that it might have been resting on stilts. “Man, is this lake down! They must have to row out quite a ways before starting that big outboard. You unwind that shore station and you’re practically on sand. Wow.”

Osborne wasn’t surprised. A two-year drought across the northwoods had left many of the lakes down. Only those that were spring-fed and not linked to a river system were at normal levels. Loon Lake was also down but not quite as bad off as this.

“See that?” said Lew, pointing to something in the water just to the north of the dock. Osborne’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark water but then he saw the object, the silver bands gleaming as they caught sunlight: a fixed bridge with, he guessed, at least three teeth attached.

“Ray, can you get a photo before we retrieve that?” said Lew.

“Sure, Chief. But I’ve got a question for you first.” He pointed to the shoreline above the spot where the bridge rested. “Are those your footprints all through that area? Did you or Todd walk from the deck over to the boathouse along the shoreline there?”

“No. I didn’t let Andy and Blue walk around there, either — though who knows what people did before I got here. For the record, gentlemen, the family doesn’t know I spotted that bridge. Since Andy swears he found her body on the other side of the dock.”

“Chief,” said Ray, “if it’s okay with you, I’ll shoot everything in color but let’s do black and white around those footprints — you’ll get stronger definition in case you need to identify shoe or boot marks.”

“Good. And if those tracks lead further back — ” “I’ll stay with them?”

“As best you can, Ray.” Lew cupped her hands to her mouth, “Officer Martin!” She waved at the young policeman who was still chatting with the EMTs. He hurried over.

“Todd, without question we have a crime scene here so will you please follow procedures? I don’t expect Wausau to make it up here today, maybe not until morning. Sorry to ruin your holiday but we need to keep the area secured overnight, too. I’ll check with the sheriff and see if I can get you a relief. But, please, let’s be very careful to maintain the integrity of the site as well as the transport of the victim.”

Todd nodded. “Not to worry, Chief. I know the drill. And the guys on duty today,” he nodded towards the ambulance, “they know what they’re doing. We’ve worked together before. They understand ‘chain of custody’ on crime scenes.”

“Good. Doc and I will be with the family up at the house if you have questions.”

Lew and Osborne walked back over to the body. Osborne paused to let his eyes travel the length and width of Nolan Reece. Torn flesh on the one hand that lay palm down caught his eye. He knelt to check the right hand, then the left.

“Lewellyn — take a look at this.”

Lew dropped down beside him and leaned forward to closely examine the hands. The fourth finger on the left hand wore a large diamond ring but the nails on all five fingers, even the thumb, were ripped and torn. Same on the right hand: the fourth finger wore a large red stone in a gold setting but again, on every finger, the nails were torn.

Without looking up, Lew said, “Doc, I don’t need a microscope to see scrapings under these nails. She put up a struggle, that’s for sure.”

“It’s as if she was buried alive.”

“Yeah, but in water?”

“I know. It doesn’t make sense.”

Doc, I know — I know — everyone grieves in their own way, but what bothers me — ” Muttering as they trudged up the stone stairs leading to the lakeside deck of the main house, Lew was talking as much to herself as to Osborne. He waited for her to finish her sentence but if she did the words got lost in the wind.

A late afternoon cold front had kicked in with an edge that turned the sky pewter and the air icy. Branches crowning the tall pines that surrounded the house tossed in fury as winds out of the north roared overhead. Hunching his shoulders, Osborne pulled the collar of his hunting jacket up around his neck. “You warm enough, Lew?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, near the top of the stairs, she stopped and turned towards Osborne. “Doc, how many hours have I been here?”

Before he could attempt an answer, figuring she knew better than he exactly how long it had been, Lew answered her own question: “Over six hours. And do you know that during all that time not once did I see Andy Reece or his daughter approach that poor woman’s body? Those two kept their distance the entire time. And I mean distance — at least twenty feet away. Not once did I see either one of them make the slightest attempt to say a final goodbye — not a touch, not a whisper. And for a woman who’s been so much a part of their lives?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“When it happened to me,” said Lew, pressing her right hand, fingers spread, against her chest, “when I saw my son lying on that slab in the hospital morgue? I couldn’t help myself. I gathered him up in my arms.” Her voice cracked, eyes glistening, and Osborne knew the memory of her son’s murder at the age of seventeen had just hijacked her heart.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, his own voice gruff. “I know what you’re saying, sweetheart — we’ve both been there.”

• • •

He would never forget those first moments after the emergency room doc had entered the waiting room to tell him all was lost. Mary Lee lay on the gurney, her hair a tangled mess. He had reached to smooth back the strands with his fingers, knowing she would hate for anyone to see her so disheveled, knowing it was all he could do for the woman who had borne his children. One nurse, observing his attempt to comb with his fingers, found a hairbrush and together they brushed and tidied Mary Lee’s hair and face. Only then, with a light kiss on the forehead, did he wish her Godspeed.

• • •

“I’m not saying they didn’t pay lip service to the awfulness of the situation,” said Lew, getting a grip, “but Doc, I’ve seen more attention paid to a dead bear for God’s sake.”

“Before you arrived maybe.”

“Possible. Yes, I’m sure you’re right. In the privacy of those first moments, you mean? It’s just. for the average family to find their mother, their wife, dead under any circumstances is such a shock to the system. You know yourself how often I deal with folks who are inconsolable. Not these two. Very cool, very calm.

“Oh well,” Lew shrugged, “Andy did tell me that both their families immigrated from Sweden — her great-grandfather and his grandmother. Could be the Reeces are just more stoic than the rest of us.” She started back up the stairs. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

• • •

Watching Lew as she spoke, Osborne remembered Kathleen’s words: “She’s too rugged, Paul — ”

Rugged? At the moment, Lew appeared less rugged than ragged as fatigue tempered with determination swept across her face: it had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. Still, Kathleen was right. Lewellyn Ferris was rugged, even tough. But the sight of those black eyes, the rogue curls clouding her forehead, the set of her wide shoulders over a body less slim than firm always stirred him.

And in spite of the day’s stress, at the moment she looked particularly good. She had transitioned from the Loon Lake Police Department’s summer khakis to their winter uniform: tan gabardine pants with a short jacket to match and two holsters planted firmly on each hip — one holding a cell phone, the other a 9-millimeter Sig Sauer pistol. To Osborne’s eye, the uniform fit Lew’s five feet seven inches just snug enough, especially where it left no doubt the Loon Lake Chief of Police was female.

She wasn’t a small woman but medium-boned and sturdy. Muscular arms and legs served her well when scrambling up from trout streams in waders and a well-equipped fishing vest (that weighed at least five pounds) while manipulating a fly rod and, often, a cooler filled with bottles of water and cans of soda along with a sandwich or two, fruit, cheese and crackers — a cooler she always refused to hand over.

Rugged? Well, Lew Ferris was the only woman he knew who could carry a 100-lb outboard motor in one arm with only a slight lean to the left. But he knew, too, that her hair always smelled of a summer afternoon.

She was definitely tough-minded. As rigorous in her study of a criminal investigation as she was of a trout stream — always listening, watching, taking time, taking care — no detail unobserved. Working alongside Lewellyn Ferris over the last two years had taught Osborne a couple of simple but critical facts: that streetwise beat book-wise, that a true professional learns on the job.

Okay, he would concede to Kathleen. But where she saw rugged, he saw a swan.

• • •

“ — To tell you the truth, it was more like they were relieved than grief-stricken,” he heard Lew say.

“What’s that? You say you sensed relief?” Osborne’s mind had wandered.

“I’m not sure what I sense at this point. Talk about a long, frustrating day and, Doc, we’ll have to go out for dinner because I never did get my turkey in — ”

“Did I hear. t-u-r-r-r-key?” Ray bounded up the stairs behind them. “Chief, with the light fading so fast, I’m finding it difficult to track into that cedar swamp that runs along the edge of the property. The footprints along the shoreline head up in that direction but right now there are too many shadows. If it’s all right with you, I’ll get a good start first thing in the morning.”

“I think that’s wise,” said Lew. “Todd is securing the area and the Wausau boys will be here by then, too.”

“Now what’s the problem with your turkey? I’ve got a nice twelve-pounder roasting away and I’m happy to share if — ”

“Hey, that’s a thought,” said Osborne. Ray’s cooking more than made up for the frustrations he caused his friends — plus Osborne knew he had recently acquired a stash of native wild rice and native always tasted better than store-bought. “Lew?”

“I did get my pies baked,” said Lew, “pumpkin, apple and a blueberry tart. And my butter rolls. Sure — this is a great idea. If you don’t mind driving out to my farm, Ray, my table is set and I’ll just add one more place setting. How does seven work for you?”

“Well. on one condition.”

“Y-e-e-s?” said Osborne and Lew with mutual trepidation. “I’m allowed to bring a guest.”

“Oh.” Again they responded in concert. Ray had a habit of lending a helping hand — or a free night on his sofa — to men temporarily down on their luck. This was a good thing except some were so peculiar in their appearance that they could frighten young children. Or alarm a retired dentist who had difficulty dining with people possessing less than ten teeth. The turkey was enticing but.

Osborne locked eyes with Lew as they assessed the risk. “Sure,” said Lew after a moment, “after all, it is Thanksgiving. If you don’t mind trucking over that turkey, I’m happy to include your friend — but only one, right?”

“Only one, I promise. And I’ll make gravy at your place.”

As Ray tripped back down the stairs, Osborne said, “I hope it is only one — he’s said that before and shown up with a gaggle.”

“Oh, what the hell,” said Lew with a chuckle of surrender, “this day has been bizarre from the get go.”

• • •

As they walked around to the front of the house, they were startled to see a van drive through the circle and pull up next to an entrance on the side of the house. A slightly overweight woman in tan slacks and a black ski jacket jumped out. She had a square, friendly face and wore her long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked familiar to Osborne but he couldn’t think of her name.

Whoever she was, she was so intent on what she was doing that she didn’t notice Lew and Osborne standing less than fifty feet away. Sliding back the side door of the van, she pulled out a small dolly, which she yanked into shape before reaching back into the van.

“Excuse me — ” said Lew, stepping forward.

Startled, the woman jerked around. “Ohmygosh you scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” said Lew, “but visitors aren’t allowed at the moment.”

“Oh,” said the woman with a wave of her hand and a cheery smile, “I’m not a visitor, I’m the caterer. I’ve got the Reeces’ Thanksgiving dinner here. Oh, Dr. Osborne!” The surprise in her voice escalated.

She thrust a hand towards Osborne. “Karen Gilley. I was your daughter Mallory’s Girl Scout leader and my mom and dad were patients of yours — my maiden name was Carlson. Ruth and Gil Carlson, do you remember them? They both passed a couple years ago.”

“Sure,” said Osborne. “I knew them from St. Mary’s, too.” Of course, now he remembered. Karen turned her friendly eyes back to Lew only to have it dawn on her that she was talking to a police officer. She threw a questioning look at Osborne, the smile fading. “What — ”

“There’s been an incident and we’re conducting an investigation,” said Lew, showing her badge. “Lewellyn Ferris, Loon Lake Chief of Police and I’m afraid the family is sequestered.”

“Yes, Chief Ferris, I certainly know who you are. Oh, well, in that case may I just tell Mrs. Reece I’m here? She gets furious if I’m late.”

“Karen,” said Lew, her tone cautious, “Mrs. Reece is deceased. It happened earlier today but in consideration of the family’s need to notify close relatives, her death won’t be officially reported until later. Now I need you to keep this news in confidence and not mention it to anyone until tomorrow morning. Agreed?”

“Yes, oh yes, of course.” The friendly eyes turned worried, preoccupied.

“Karen,” said Osborne, seeing the concern on her face. “I’m sure Chief Ferris can arrange for you to complete this delivery.” “It’s not that. Oh, I feel terrible. This is such a selfish thought.” “What is it?” said Lew.

Karen looked sheepish as she said, “I’m just wondering if I’m going to get paid is all. Mr. Reece gave me a check last night but it covered only half of what they owe me counting today’s order and another one she hasn’t paid me for. Oh,” she paused, “so that’s why he paid me. I wondered ‘cause she doesn’t usually let him write checks. At least not the checks for catering.” With an embarrassed wave of one hand, Karen said, “Forget it — I’m ashamed of myself for thinking this way when someone has just died. Did she have a heart attack? I tried to tell her — ”

“It’s premature to determine the precise cause of death,” said Lew.

“Oh, an accident,” said Karen. Lew did not correct her. “Well, then.” Karen spun around towards the van, then turned back again. “I mean, what do I do now? Like with the food?”

Leaning back to read the lettering on the van, Lew said, “You’re ‘Gilley’s Catering’ — all the way from Rhinelander I see.”

“Yes. My business is based there but I live here in Loon Lake. I have a commercial kitchen in both locations. We did the party last night, too, but today it’s just me dropping off their turkey and the fixings. I wasn’t planning to stay.”

“You were here last night?” said Lew.

“Yes — ” Karen’s tone was tentative, as if hoping that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Well, Karen, if you don’t mind, Dr. Osborne and I would like to ask you a few questions about the evening.”

“Sure, but why Dr. Osborne?” Karen looked more confused. “I thought you were a dentist.”

“I’m retired from my practice — ”

“But only from his practice,” said Lew, interrupting. “The Loon Lake Police Department is working hard at keeping Doc busy. Given his experience in dental forensics, he has been kind enough to serve as deputy coroner on occasion — and he assists with interrogations when I’m shorthanded. Today being a national holiday, I’m shorthanded.” Lew grinned at Osborne. “He’s been a good egg to help out.”

“Second career, huh?” said Karen, relaxing. “That’s me, too. Spent twenty years teaching middle school, but this is a lot more fun. Here, let me close the van door so I can keep the food warm while we talk.”