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Authors: Victoria Houston

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thirty

“I know several hundred men. I prefer to angle with only four of them.”

—Frederic F. Van de Water, author

“Harriet
Carlson,” said Osborne. “Sound familiar?” It was after eight when he was finally able to reach Lew at home. She sounded tired as she picked up, then relieved to hear his voice.

“I know the name, Doc. It’s on one of those samples we sent down to Wausau. If I remember right, that’s the name of the young girl who was staying with the family. One of their kids’ friends that they brought along for the vacation.”

“Lew, that’s Hayden’s real name. She changed it several years ago.” Quickly, he related everything Jessie Lundberg had told him.

“Nothing surprises me anymore, Doc.” Lew sighed. “By the way, your friend Cheryl? She and her brother blew right by my roadblock in that mail truck. I should’ve known better than to expect Roger to score more than once a decade.”

“Don’t be too hard on the guy, Lew. Anyone would have let them through. The DEA would have let that truck by.”

“Actually, Doc, you’re right. I’m not being fair. Speaking of the DEA, boy, did I let them have it. ‘Course now they’re blaming everything on Customs.”

“Are they coming up Wednesday?”

“No. They’re going straight up to Canada; they think they’ve got a chance at intercepting Patty Boy and Dickie up there.”

“What are you doing in the morning?”

“Paperwork and more paperwork. Why?”

“I thought I’d take you out to breakfast.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have that kind of time—but how about coffee in my office at eight? One of the lab guys who came up from Wausau today said the results on the tests they ran on the Schultz samples should be ready early tomorrow. They’re e-mailing them up.”

At seven-fifteen the next morning, Osborne found himself held hostage in his own living room, forced to view the high points of his neighbor’s brief career in cable television.

“How much longer, Ray? I’m due in Lew’s office in thirty minutes. Could we finish this later?”

“Just this next part, Doc. This is cool.”

Osborne wanted to be kind. Chances were good that Parker’s death had put an abrupt end to Ray’s dream. He kept that in mind as he watched minute by long minute of Ray catching walleye, cleaning walleye, frying walleye. At the moment, the tape showed Ray holding his tray of walleye fillets high in front of the big fireplace in Parker Steadman’s log home.

“Edith did great, didn’t she?” Ray sat forward on the ottoman, his eyes fixed on the screen. “And with just a camcorder. Think how excellent this would be with the right lighting and professional cameras….

“Okay, okay, I know you gotta go, Doc.” As Ray stood to click off the VCR, the lighting changed on the screen. It darkened, the lens shooting with only the glow of candles to light the faces of the guests. Osborne’s profile came into view, then Lew stepped through the French doors and motioned to Parker, who followed her back into the house. The lens panned past faces, jerky and shifting—Ray’s was not the sure hand of Edith.

Suddenly the screen lit up. Parker had returned to the deck where lights were blazing. “Oh boy,” said Osborne, eyes riveted. Ray had captured the scene with Parker confronting Bruce Duffy. Now Hayden entered the frame from the side and Parker shook his finger at her. The camera panned the tables and the dinner guests, shocked faces all around.

Osborne picked out Jennifer Steadman sitting at Parker’s table, Edith next to her. Jennifer held her fork in the air, stunned.

The camera pulled back as people stood up but the focus remained on Parker’s table. It held steady as Jennifer leaned toward Edith, who put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and brushed her brow with a kiss. The video was now a blur of people moving around on the deck.

“Stop, go back, Ray.”

Ray hit the rewind button. Again they watched the moment of tenderness between the two women.

“What do you think?” said Osborne.

“I think they know each other … pretty darn well.”

thirty-one

“Fishermen are born honest, but they get over it.”

—Ed Zern,
To Hell with Fishing, 1945

By
the time Osborne got to Lew’s office, the morning had turned muggy. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I can use some rain, Doc. It’ll keep the fishermen in their boats and the motorcycles off the road. Give me a chance to get out to the Steadman house. I need to sit down with all three of those women.”

“What’s your theory, Lew? A family grudge? Like maybe way back when Parker did something and Catherine’s been biding her time?”

“That could very well be. I’m hoping a search of Parker’s office out at the house and his personal effects might help. The fact that Hayden can’t be trusted doesn’t make things any easier. Pretty strange she kept insisting
she
was being stalked, isn’t it?”

“Ray’s convinced it was her way of getting attention from Parker. Attention and sympathy, a good way to keep him on her side.”

Marlene stuck her head in the door. “Chief, your e-mail came in from Wausau—I printed out two copies.”

She handed one each to Lew and Osborne. Osborne studied the first page, then the second. He looked out the window.

“What?” said Lew.

He walked over to her desk. “May I use the phone? Phone book?”

Brenda answered on the first ring. Pleased to hear his voice, she was less happy when he asked for Marsha. But Marsha had the answer to his question.

Osborne set the phone down gently. “Bud Thornton died of prostate cancer two years ago.”

“Damn,” said Lew. “He never had to answer for it, did he.” She hit a button on the telephone console. “Marlene, would you get Hayden Steadman for me, please?”

Osborne refilled his coffee cup. Neither spoke while they waited.

“Hayden? This is Chief Ferris. Sorry to intrude during this difficult time but we need to discuss a number of things today. How soon can you be available?” Lew waited. “No, no, I’ll come out there … no earlier than that?” Again, a long pause.

“Well, all right then. But if anything changes, please call in. If I’m out, dispatch will know where I can be reached. Otherwise, I’ll see you at four this afternoon. Please, will you remind Jennifer not to disturb any of her father’s effects until I’ve had the opportunity to look everything over? Thank you.”

Lew looked over at Osborne. “She’s tied up with funeral arrangements until late this afternoon.”

Marlene stuck her head in the door again. “Chief, you have a visitor—Edith Schultz.” Before Lew could respond, Edith walked in behind Marlene.

“I’ll leave,” said Osborne, standing up.

“No, you stay,” said Lew.

Edith looked at them both. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

She was trembling. Her face was a mess. She looked like she’d been up all night.

“Okay, Edith,” said Lew, walking around from behind her desk to take Edith by the elbow, “why don’t you sit down here and we’ll talk.”

She pulled an armchair over from the wall, then closed the door to the office. Edith sat on the edge of the seat, arms folded tight across her chest. Osborne nudged his chair in closer. Edith looked like she might pass out.

“Coffee or water?” asked Lew, walking over to the table with the coffeepot.

“A little water please,” said Edith in a tiny voice. She gulped the water, then took a deep breath as Lew sat down behind her desk.

“Did you pull the trigger?” Lew’s question was so abrupt, Edith was startled.

“Of course not, but—”

“Did you hire the person who pulled the trigger?”

“No!”

“Does this have anything to do with your father?”

“Kind of, but—”

Lew raised a hand. “Before you go any further, Edith, I want to share some news with you. Something I learned just this morning.”

“But—” Edith looked like she was going to burst into tears. She raised a faltering hand to her lips, which were shaking.

“Edith,” Lew said, leaning forward over her desk, “I have no idea what you feel you have to say, but
how
I hear it is going to be greatly affected by something that I now know. Does that make sense?” Lew waited until she had a nod from Edith.

“The other night at the dinner party, I told you that Dr. Osborne and myself have been reviewing the file on your father and the murder of that young woman. We sent all the evidence, which has been in storage over the years, down for testing at the crime lab in Wausau. The results of those tests came in this morning and confirm the simple, awful truth that shoddy police work all those years ago led to your father being falsely accused. The man who held my position at the time took the easy way out; he did not question the opinion of an alleged eyewitness.”

“Why would he do that?” Edith’s voice was a whisper.

“Chief Raske was lazy, he was mean, and he wasn’t very bright,” said Lew.

She glanced down at the report on her desk, then looked back at Edith. “We’re fortunate that a young police officer on the force at the time had the foresight to take significant physical evidence, blood samples and nail clippings, from anyone who might have seen the victim in the forty-eight hours before her death. In addition, he had very good quality photos taken of the crime scene and other physical evidence. And he carefully preserved the burlap sack in which the body was found.

“His efforts are a good example of how ignorance can work to advantage in interesting ways. The fact is DNA testing, like we know it today, did not exist at the time of the girl’s death. But the investigating officer wasn’t thinking DNA when he took those nail clippings.

“Instead, not knowing the limits of the forensic microscope, he had hoped that something in the physical characteristics of a good-sized shard of fingernail that he found stuck to the bag holding the body might be a clue. He hoped it would match similar patterns or characteristics on the nail of the individual he suspected to have murdered the girl—much like fingerprints match or, in those days, markings on bones could provide clues to cause of death. Enough to keep the case open. So he didn’t really know exactly what he had when he found the nail shards stuck in the burlap but he felt it could be good, tangible evidence.

“That plus this.” Lew held up a copy of the close-up of the bite wound on Bud Thornton’s neck. “The crime lab has confirmed that the teeth that made these marks belonged to the victim.

“But even better—they tested the DNA of the nail clippings against the shards found on the burlap bag. Edith, your father’s nail clippings do not match. His blood test clears him as well. The blood smears and the nail shards found on the burlap bag link two other people to the victim.”

“I’ve always known that my dad was innocent,” said Edith. “I couldn’t prove it but I’ve always known it. That’s why I did what I did.”

She pressed both hands hard over her eyes. Lew reached for a box of Kleenex and set it on the desk near Edith.

“Listen to the rest, Edith. Of the two samples that match the nail shards, one person is dead. That is Bud Thornton. He was the father of the family whose baby-sitter was murdered. The other belongs to a friend of the family’s who is very much alive today: Harriet Carlson. The woman you know as Hayden Sterling.

“Now you keep this confidential, Edith. I’ll be taking Hayden into custody later today, but Wausau does need to run one more blood test before she can be formally charged. Nevertheless, I feel confident she will be charged as an accessory to the murder of Gloria Bertrand.”

Edith’s shoulders relaxed as if a heavy weight had been lifted. “Chief Ferris, all these years I’ve known this. My father told me that the girl—that Hayden lied. She told the police she saw him in the woods with the girl who was killed. She said she saw him leave the woods afterwards. But he swore to me that he was never there.”

Lew leaned back in her chair. “And he was not. Based on these reports from Wausau and the officer’s notes from years ago, my theory is that Gloria, the baby-sitter, stumbled onto Bud Thornton in a compromising position with the young Hayden. She may have confronted him. Who knows?

“One interesting fact that the investigating officer noted was the family was quite well to do but the money came from the wife’s family. Bud couldn’t risk divorce. Did he think that the baby-sitter was going to tell his wife?

“One thing we do know for sure: Hayden was there when that girl’s body was forced into the burlap sack. Only Hayden knows what really happened. Whether she’ll tell the truth, who can say? But we have DNA proof that she was a party to a crime for which the statute of limitations never runs out.”

“Then why?” Edith looked at her. “Why did my father kill himself?”

Lew gazed down at her desk for a long moment, then up at Edith. “The man who was the police chief in those days was a bully. He was vicious and he was powerful. When he got the eyewitness report, he decided your father was guilty and told him he would see that he got a life sentence. Your father had no witnesses to prove his side of the story, no DNA testing like we have now that might have challenged that witness. He had been out fishing alone that day. He probably fished a special, secret spot like so many of us do—and no one saw him.”

“May I say something, Chief Ferris?” said Osborne. Lew nodded.

“I knew your father, Edith. And I remember the circumstances at the time. As a father myself, I think he was desperately afraid of what the whole scenario would do to you and your sisters. Sometimes when we’re accused of things, even though we didn’t do it, we feel guilty. Just the accusation smears you. That on top of your mother’s leaving—it was too much. He wanted it over.”

A lengthy silence filled the room. Finally, Lew said, “Edith, can I trust you not to say anything about this to Hayden? I know you’re staying at the Steadman place and you’re bound to see her before I do later today, but anything you might say could jeopardize the case against her.”

“Please, I understand,” said Edith.

“We have another witness, too,” said Osborne gently. “An elderly woman here in Loon Lake. She can document the love affair between Hayden and Bud Thornton. She saw them together. Hayden is about to find herself boxed into a very tough spot.”

“I’m not sure I feel too much better,” said Edith. “I still feel damned responsible for Parker’s death.”

“You’ll have to tell me why,” said Lew, “because I don’t see it.”

Edith stared at the floor before answering.

“You have no idea how obsessed I have been over avenging my father’s death. I was able to keep track of Hayden through high school. I knew she lived in Evanston. We both went to Northwestern, too, though our paths didn’t cross often enough for her to be aware of me. She was in a sorority, I wasn’t. She was a communications major, I was in theater.

“I lost track of her after graduation. Then, by some twist of fate, we both ended up working in television. I couldn’t believe it at first. I was working on one of ESPN’s fishing shows when I heard about Parker Steadman and his plans to expand his cable channels. Then I heard about Hayden and that’s when I decided …” Her voice trailed off.

Then Edith stuck her chin out. “I’m not proud of this but the fact is that I’ve known for a long time that if I did it right, if I took my time, I would find the moment when I could destroy her. Not hurt her physically, but destroy her career. That’s what I’ve been working for.

“It’s no accident I landed this job with the Steadman group two years ago. I went in knowing that most women who do what I do are very attractive, very stylish, very competitive. My production skills are excellent and I have solid experience shooting outdoors but most important”—Edith looked from Lew to Osborne—”I know how to be a good mouse.

“They had over thirty candidates for the job and Hayden picked me. She needed a grunt and a purse carrier—so she picked the homely one. Enough years had gone by, she didn’t recognize my name. She barely read the résumé. She didn’t know until last week that I grew up here in Loon Lake.

“Once I was on board, I bided my time. I knew I’d have the opportunity and I wanted it to be perfect.”

Edith dropped her face into her hands again. “This is all so pathetic.”

“It’s understandable, Edith,” said Lew. Edith lifted her head and relaxed back into the chair.

“The first thing I noticed when I started working there was how protective Hayden was of Parker. No one gets to that man without going through her. I was so surprised when I found out he had a daughter. Jen came to visit once, for a very short time, but I could see the affection between them. And Hayden was so jealous.

“That’s where she was vulnerable. That plus the fact that when Parker isn’t around, she’s a raving maniac. A total bitch. Without her knowing it, I befriended Jen. I would call her on weekends to see how things were going. I encouraged her, all the way from Maui, to send her father notes and little gifts. She would mail them to me and I would sneak them into his office. Bugged the hell out of Hayden.

“About three months ago, things got tense between Hayden and Parker. Even though her ratings are lousy, she has been demanding a bigger role on the new cable channels. He wanted someone the audience would like better. Meanwhile, I learned that Jen had this financial disaster and was trying to reach Parker by phone, but Hayden wouldn’t put the calls through. She was just a bitch.

“That’s when Jen and I cooked up a little trap. Jen would call, get Hayden on the phone, and tape the nastiness. That’s all, just let Hayden rave on, then hang up. Eventually Hayden refused to take the calls.”

“Is that when she alleged someone was stalking her by phone?”

“Yes—and all the time it was poor Jen trying to reach her father. When Jen stopped calling, Hayden pretended to get calls—always when she could milk the attention.

“Jen had stopped calling because I was helping her arrange to come here to Loon Lake. Things were dicey enough between her father and Hayden that I thought she could push that relationship over the edge. I was right. Jen played those tapes for him Saturday night after everyone left the dinner party. He couldn’t believe it.

BOOK: Dead Frenzy
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