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Authors: Victoria Houston

Dead Madonna (22 page)

BOOK: Dead Madonna
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“We’ll feel worse tomorrow,” said Osborne. “Look, the sun is in the west and I know from the Gazetteer that this creek runs parallel to the channel to Mirror Lake—the one Mason calls “the secret passage”—so I think we ford the stream here where it’s shallow and head due south. We’re bound to run into the channel and, if we have to, we’ll
swim
up to Mirror Lake.”

“Darn,” said Lew, “if it weren’t for all the wetlands back in here, we’d have a shot at a logging road.”

After fording the stream, they pushed through a wall of young popple, which gave way to a shadowed ravine guarded by old hemlocks and much easier to walk. The canopy of ancient trees had long blotted out the sun, so there was little overgrowth on the forest floor. Soon they were facing the edge of a swampy stretch of tamarack and black spruce. Osborne’s watch had stopped working but he figured they had at least another hour or more of light.

Spotting a berm that was less forested, they decided to detour slightly in order to pull themselves up onto it. “Whoa, what is this?” said Lew, once they were standing on top. “Looks like we found an old logging lane after all.”

“Sure does. Someone’s been in here recently, too,” said Osborne. “What do you think—do we continue towards the channel or reverse to see where this old road leads?”

“Let’s keep straight. We know the channel can’t be far. But a road like this could wind back a couple miles at least. I’d just as soon find a place that’s familiar.”

“I agree. Chances are excellent we’ll see some kayakers on the channel who can help us out.”

They headed southwest, relieved to have an easier path. They hadn’t been walking five minutes when the logging lane came to an abrupt end at the back of an old barn. From the outside, the barn looked abandoned—the wood weathered a deep gray and windows shuttered.

Walking around to the front of the building, they found a footpath that twisted its way through a cedar swamp of slash and tamarack, then down a steep bank to water: the channel to Mirror Lake. “Hey, Doc, we did it,” said Lew, standing on the bank. “And look,” she pointed to where grasses growing along the shore had been crushed. “Someone’s been pulling a boat in and out of here. Maybe we can hitch a ride?”

“Lew, I’m going to see what’s in that barn back there. You never know—could be an old fishing boat stored in there.”

“Yep, worth a peek. I’ll keep watch here in case somebody comes by.”

One push at the old door at the front of the barn and it swung open. To Osborne’s surprise, a full half of the interior was filled with brand-new packaged goods—the boxes resplendent with colorful replicas of their contents and stacked carefully one on top of the other. The remaining space was packed with wooden crates and flattened cardboard shipping containers. An old wooden worktable running along one wall held spools of packing tape, tools and sorted stacks of shipping labels.

Osborne stepped outside. “Lew, get up here,” he hollered, “you won’t believe what’s in this place.”

“Better be good,” said Lew as she walked up from the water, “‘cause I don’t want to walk any more than I absolutely have to.” He held the door for her to walk in. “—Oh!”

Together they walked down the center of the barn, amazed at the contents of the boxes. “Look at this—” said Osborne, waving an arm, “dozens of computers, boxes and boxes of iPods … Just look at all these video games, Lew. And, here—flat screen TVs. This place is packed with electronics! Thousands of dollars worth.”

“Tens
of thousands of dollars worth—a warehouse of electronic toys! Stuck out in the middle of nowhere. Can you imagine a kid walking in here—”

“I think they have—I’ll bet you anything Mason has been here. She’s been telling everyone about the hidden treasure she found kayaking up the Secret Passage.”

“Honest to Pete,” said Lew, hands on her hips and shaking her head as she looked around. “Why would someone want to store their merchandise way out here? And who owns this place, I wonder?”

“I vaguely remember a proposal submitted to the town board a couple years ago,” said Osborne. “An elderly woman from Milwaukee who inherited a chunk of property in this area had the crazy idea of building a shopping mall right along the channel here. The idea was absurd, of course—the wetlands surrounding this small peninsula are not buildable and the town board was not going to allow her to bring in fill. Looks to me like she found a use for her property after all.”

“Or maybe she rents it out,” said Lew. “Take a look, Dr. Osborne.” She pointed at an opened cardboard box that had been set down near the door. The address on the label read: “Gwen Curry; 5317 Mirror Lake Road; Loon Lake, Wisconsin 54545.”

“Gwen Curry?! This must be her eBay operation,” said Osborne.

“And these must be her cell phones,” said Lew, pointing to a stack of boxed phones. “And pre-paid phone cards, too. Tidy operation.” An unboxed phone lay next to the stack, its charger plugged into an outlet on the worktable. Lew picked it up and reached for one of the phone cards. “I’m going to call for help first, then we’ll try Mrs. Curry.”

Lew was punching in the non-emergency number of the Loon Lake Police switchboard when Osborne saw a bright flash at the window and heard a rustling outside the open barn door. Walking over to the window, he peered out but an overgrown bush obscured the view. He stepped outside only to see a flicker of something dark disappear down the path leading to the water. A deer? Maybe a bear? A mother and two cubs had been sighted in the area.

Curious as to what he had seen, Osborne decided to chance running into a bear. Alert to any sign of the sow, he followed the path to the bank only to catch sight of a lone canoe heading off towards a far bend in the channel. The sun was so low all he could see was a silhouette.

Though the canoe was already a good hundred yards away, Osborne called out. Maybe it was the swish of paddle in water, maybe it was the evening breeze blowing in the opposite direction, but it was apparent that he wasn’t heard. The dark figure in the canoe, its back to Osborne, rounded the bend and disappeared.

C
HAPTER
30

Friday morning arrived too soon. Osborne moved with care from the bed. Steady doses of ibuprofen had done little to relieve the soreness in his lower back and legs. He stretched, then stretched again. The first cup of coffee helped. He called Lew.

“How are
you
feeling this morning?” he said. “Old. Very, very old, Doc. I may be in one piece but I am moving s-l-o-o-w. Just called Marlene. She patched me through to Dan Wright, who spent the night in town. He said they figure they have half a day to go before they’ve sorted through everything in that house—still no money or trace of it.”

“And Gwen?”

“Dan said they are letting her in late this morning when they’ve finished. No one wants anything to do with that dog—it lunged at one of the guys trying to feed it yesterday. If I feel better this afternoon, I want to sit down and listen to that tape from Universal Medical again. Knowing Gwen ordered from there has changed my perspective on that. It’s bugging me.”

“Don’t rush it, Lew. You got beat up pretty bad.”

“How’s your head, Doc? That’s quite a bump you have.”

“I iced it before I went to bed but it’s sore. Lew, if you feel better later, would you join me for fish fry this evening?”

“Can I get back to you on that? I’m taking the morning to make some calls from home and just take it easy for a while. My shins are black and blue from the knees down to my ankles.”

“Mine, too.”

“I called my friend over in the Department of Natural Resources who recommended that stream, and guess what?” “We kayaked the wrong one?”

“No. He canoed it last summer when we were having that drought and the water was down. Said he had to portage five times. I am so sorry, I should have remembered that, Doc. We’ve had so much rain this spring and summer—”

“Lew, it was not your fault.”

“I know but—”

“Lewellyn …” He affected the sternest tone in his repertoire, the one he’d used on people who refused to floss. “Okay, Doc.” He could hear her smiling. “Later.”

It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that the soreness eased and Osborne felt like he’d rejoined the living. He decided to stop by Lew’s office and see if she had made it in. Marlene was on the switchboard and, as he entered, said, “Doc, have you been out to check on the chief? I left two messages in the last half hour and she hasn’t called in. Tried her cell phone, too.”

“That definitely won’t work—it’s at the bottom of the creek.”

“Right—I forgot.”

“My hunch is she took some ibuprofen and is getting a much-needed nap,” said Osborne. “That’s what worked for me. Are these urgent messages? Should I drive out there?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted her to know that the Wausau boys dropped off a preliminary report—that young Dan guy said they really didn’t find anything more than the checks and the fake drivers’ licenses. He was going to stop by the Chamber and take a look at the equipment they have there. He thinks Curry may have been printing the checks there during off-hours. He also said he would be checking in with the pathologist doing the autopsy on Hugh Curry. Anything unusual, he’ll leave a message on her voice mail. Otherwise he’ll email the report first thing Monday morning.

“Oh—and I wanted Chief Ferris to know that Ray stopped in this morning. He said he was in touch with a buddy of his who fishes that stream where it enters Loon Lake. The guy’s got a flat-bottomed skiff that can make it up quite a ways. They’re gonna see if they can maybe locate those kayaks.”

“Ray does have his virtues,” said Osborne. “You heard he was kind enough to canoe up and get us last night?”

“You think he needs much of an excuse to be in a boat?” Marlene winked. “Hey, Ray’s got a heavy date tonight—that blonde from Duluth. My niece, Laura, who’s been working the night switchboard, calls her ‘sniper girl.’“

“You mean Gretel?”

“Yep, Gretel with the guns,” said Marlene with a chuckle. Then her eyes turned serious. “You know she was in the Army and saw active duty in Afghanistan. That’s where she got her training and she sure knows her stuff. Laura’s so impressed, I won’t be surprised if she enlists. Ray better not fool around with that gal.”

“Really? She was in the military?”

“You haven’t been reading the news, Doc,” said Marlene. “Today’s Army is different from when you and I were growing up. I must have half a dozen friends and relatives with daughters who’ve enlisted—some are career military and love it.”

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Doc. “I’ve always known women to be better with shotguns, and Lew is no slouch with a handgun.” Then he slapped a hand on the counter in front of the dispatch window. “Before I leave, I think I’ll take care of something Chief Ferris and I have been puzzling over, Marlene. Would you have a minute to help me play that CD we got from Universal Medical Supplies—the phone call that Nora Loomis overheard?”

“If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, Doc. Laura’s due in to relieve me. That way I won’t have to worry about the switchboard.”

Sitting across from each other in Lew’s conference room, Marlene played the Universal Medical CD three times—twice for Osborne and a third time for herself. “That caller has quite a lisp, don’t they,” said Marlene, tipping her head as she listened.

“Less a lisp than a defined sibilant ‘s’ sound,” said Osborne. “Distinctive, but the connection isn’t good enough to get the full range of the voices. Darn. I thought I might hear more this time. Oh well.” He checked his watch. “Gosh, it’s been awhile. I’m beginning to worry that Lew feels worse than she told me she did.”

Picking up the phone in the conference room, he tried Lew at home again, but no answer. “I’ll wait an hour and try again, Marlene.”

“You’re right to worry, Doc. When she called in this morning I could tell she wasn’t feeling great—and she’s never willing to take it easy like a normal person, y’know.”

“I would drive out there but you know what a private person she is, Marlene. I hate to go without calling ahead.”

“I know what you mean,” Marlene said with a nod.

Osborne checked his watch. He would wait just an hour and try Lew again.

C
HAPTER
31

Osborne had just decided to stop by Erin’s house, a block away, and wait there before trying Lew again when Ray’s smiling face appeared on the steps leading up to the entrance to the police department.

No tasteless T-shirts today. This was Ray in what he liked to call his “sua-vey” mode: trim black slacks—which Osborne guessed had to be brand-new since he’d never seen them before—and a crewneck, long-sleeved black pullover. Waving to Osborne, he held the door for Mallory and Gretel to enter.

“Doc! We’ve been looking for you,” said Ray. “You’ve met Gretel, right?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Osborne shaking her hand. “And don’t you look like the movie star, Mr. Pradt. So, Gretel, I understand these two have roped you into their business plan?”

“We’ll see,” said Gretel, with a light laugh. “I’m taking one of the DVDs back to Duluth to share with our sales team. It could fit with some of the hunting products that we carry in our consumer catalogs. I was telling Ray and Mallory that we sell night-vision type camcorders that hunters can set up to watch the deer that come to their feeders during the night. FawnCam could be a natural addition to that line.” “And Marlene tells me you saw active duty?” “I did,” said Gretel. “Been back for a year now—” “Hey, Gretel, that … reminds me,” said Ray, interrupting. “What … do you do … if you miss your mother-in-law?”

“Oh no,” groaned Mallory. “Gretel, I warned you.” “I don’t know—what?” said Gretel. “Reload. Try again.”

“That’s a pretty tasteless joke to tell someone like me,” said Gretel. And she wasn’t smiling.

Mallory caught Osborne’s eye, not a little amused. A moment of awkward silence, then Ray raised both arms and said, “All right, all right—I know a lot of other people who’ve found that funny.”

BOOK: Dead Madonna
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