A Luring Murder (12 page)

Resort visitors eyed us like we’d just farted in the elevator. I didn’t blame them. Even in the cities, where murders and rapes were so common that most of them didn’t make the evening news, unless they were particularly heinous, you didn’t often see a forensic van parked in your neighborhood.

I helped Louise into the van. Inside we found Digs hunched over, gazing at a computer monitor with deep concentration.

“What’s shakin’, Digs?” I said.

He sat back and stared at me through his bottle thick glasses.

“Our suspicions were right,” he said. “There is no way Warren Pease was killed in the fish house.”

I leaned against the edge of a console, crossed my arms over my chest, and looked at Louise. She blinked at me, then scratched the end of her nose.

“That’s very interesting, but do you know where he was killed, Digs?” She said.

“He was killed in a boat.”

A sweeping statement even for the wunderkind that Digs was in finding evidence. The proclamation hung in the air unmoving, like an elephant with a bad attitude.

“Okay.” I gave a halfhearted chuckle. “I know you’re good, Digs, but how could you know for sure that he was killed in a boat? He could just have easily been in one of the cabins or a car.”

He shook his head and smiled that smile. The smile that said he had something we didn’t know about. Yet.

“Tell Digs,” I said. “What did you find buried in all your little data files?”

I drummed my fingers on the computer monitor that displayed colorful graphs and numbers tip to toe.

He grinned wider and swiveled his chair around to face the monitor.

“Well, there are a few clues that brought me to my conclusion.”

“We figured there might be,” Louise said.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

Digs was big on the dramatic reveal. I was not. I preferred having him just tell us everything as it came up, but if he did that, he wouldn’t be Digs. And he wouldn’t be as good at what he did as he was. He waited until he had the facts; all of them. The perfect set up for the reveal.

“Louise, do you remember how you said Pease wasn’t killed in the fish house because there was no blood spattering?”

“Yes.”

Guilt pushed at my chest. I’d missed that little nugget. In my defense, it was early, and I hadn’t had any coffee. Besides, I was on vacation, and it was dark. If I’d been awake, had coffee, and been on duty, I know I would have noticed that there were no blood spatters too.

“The lack of blood started me thinking, where did all the blood go? Plus, whoever had killed Pease, had to be able to move the body to the fish house without being seen by anyone at the resort.”

“So. That still doesn’t mean it was a boat. He could have been transported in a car,” I said.

“Except, I spoke to Mr. Peterman, he said he was out doing chores the morning of the murder. By the way, did you know they have chickens?” He stacked his hands about seven inches apart. “Little brown ones.”

“What does that have to do with our victim?” Louise said.

“Nothing. I just never saw chickens like that before. He’s got a rooster who’s a glutton. Unless he feeds it early in the morning the thing crows and wakes everyone up. But when he’s eating he’s too distracted to notice that it’s morning.”

“Digs, who gives a shit about the chickens?” I asked. “The only way I care about chickens is if you found one wielding a knife and clucking out a confession. Get on with our victim.”

Digs pushed his glasses up with his middle finger. I chose to ignore the gesture.

“Anyway,” he said. “That’s why Mr. Peterman was awake so early. He was feeding the chickens. He didn’t see anyone arrive or leave the resort in a car. The way the dirt driveway kicks up dust it would be a tough road to sneak up on.”

“Not to mention how noisy the gravel is,” Louise said.

He pointed at her. “Which brings me to the boat.”

“Finally,” I said.

He shot me a dirty look.

“The main dock is right next to the fish house. The area is pretty secluded. It wouldn’t be any trouble at all to bring a body to the fish house unseen, and get away on the lake.”

Louise looked at me and shrugged. “Could be.”

“The Medical Examiner found a huge hole in the back of the victim’s head. First we thought he might have been bludgeoned to death before he was cut open.”

“But his throat was cut,” Louise said.

“It wasn’t deep enough to kill him.”

My mind boggled at this little surprise because the cut on his throat looked nasty to me. “Cut him, hit him, cut him again, then gut him? Are you sure?”

“No he wasn’t hit. Not unless our killer was strong enough to swing a boat anchor above their head.”

“A boat anchor?” Louise crossed her arms over her chest.

Digs nodded. “I think Pease tried to get away from the killer, stumbled, fell and hit his head on a boat anchor. The ME agrees with the assessment.”

“How do you know it was an anchor?” Louise said.

Digs reached under the surface of the desk, brought out a shiny new anchor. He hefted it up and set it down on the counter top next to me with a thunk. Spikey ends stood up like two snaggletooth fangs pointed at me.

“The hole in the back of his head matches the spikes of an anchor like this one.”

Jesus that would be a nasty fall.

“I noticed this anchor in the resort store and bought it to compare to the wound in Pease’s scull.”

He punched up a digital display that showed a rendering of the anchor blade and a skull.

“See here around the edges of the wound where it tapers?”

He pointed, and we dutifully nodded. Then he scrolled his mouse pointer over the image of the anchor blade. He clicked the image into motion, showing the hook fit perfectly into the tapers.

“This anchor’s a bit smaller so I had to enlarge the animated image proportionally. A larger anchor like this would make the exact same wound in Pease’s skull.”

“Anything else?” I asked.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose, this time with his index finger, and grinned.

“Yep, the M.E. also found this.” He held up a baggy with a fiber in it. “And this.” Another baggy. This one held a small, golden, hook.

“So? What are they?”

He shook the baggy with the little brown thread in it. “This is synthetic carpeting. Widely used on the bottom of fishing boats.” He shook the second bag.

“The hook was embedded in Pease’s upper arm. Probably picked it up when the killer dragged the body out of the boat. Add these pieces to the filet knife you found with the body. You put it all together, and it can only mean murder on a boat.”

“Whose boat?” I asked.

He lifted one shoulder into a shrug. “I can’t do everything for you. That’s why you’ve got the title detective, not me.”

Just once, I wanted someone to hand me the answer. Here it is cut and dried–go arrest. This working for a living really sucked.

“What about the gum that was holding the knife under the table?” Louise said.

“That doesn’t fit.” He scratched his head. “It’s ordinary sculpting clay.”

I glanced at Louise.

“I don’t know why anyone would keep clay on a boat,” Digs said. “I can’t figure it out. I even talked to Mr. Peterman about it to see if he knew why you’d have clay on a boat, but no luck.”

“Thanks, Digs,” Louise said. “I think we can manage from here. If you do find anything else, tell us.”

He nodded.

I opened the door and stepped down from the back of the van, then turned to help Louise down.

Digs scrambled out the door after us. “Louise?”

She stopped and faced him.

“I was thinking. Since the cabin has a fully equipped kitchen.” He slid his glasses higher up on his nose and shifted from side to side. “I could pick up some food and cook for you tonight. If you’d like.”

She glanced at me and then back at Digs. “Sure, Digs, that would be great.”

I thought Digs would faint. He stared open mouthed in disbelief then smiled.

“Are you allergic to anything, or don’t like anything? I don’t want to cook something you hate.”

“No.” She turned to walk away. “Anything you fix is fine with me.”

“Okay, then I’ll go to the store. Dinner at seven, okay?”

He sounded high-pitched and rushed, like a kid who’d gotten permission to go to the park and play.

Louise held up her fingers in the sign of okay, and then slid into the passenger seat of my car.

I got into the driver’s seat and closed the door behind me.

“Where too?” I smirked.

“Let’s head down to the dock and check out McMahan’s boat. Digs is probably right about the boat theory. He
is
that good.”

“I guess after tonight you’ll know how good he really is.” I pulled away from Digs who was waving at us like my aunt Ruth waving from her front porch.

Louise gave a short wave back at him. “Shut up, Catherine.”

“I can’t help it. You two are so cute. Digs has a huge crush on you.”

She gave me a blank stare, as if this were news to her. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

“Oh, come on. He’s had the hots for you since he first met you.”

Jesus did men fall in love with her on such a regular basis that she didn’t even recognize the signs anymore.

“Shut up, Catherine. You’re not funny.”

“I can’t help it,” I said. “You two would be so cute together.”

“Catherine, I still have my gun in my purse. Don’t make me shoot you.”

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

We searched the area around the main dock first. If there had been blood, or other clues, on the dock itself, it was probably washed away by rain, or the lake itself, by now.

“If the murder happened on the lake isn’t that the Coast Guards problem, or someone else’s problem?” I said.

“Nope, still local law enforcement's problem,” Louise said. “And thanks to you, it’s still our problem.”

“I was joking.” I turned over a small rock with the toe of my boot. “Anyway who asked you to come out here and help? It wasn’t me. Blame your boyfriend back in the van for dragging you out here.”

Louise threw a stone into the water next to me. Water splashed up on my pant leg.

“If you weren’t injured,” I said and pulled the damp material off my skin. “I would dump your butt off the end of this dock.”

“There’s McMahan’s boat.” She pointed toward a small slip with a flamed boat. “We have the keys and permission. Let’s go, Sherlock.”

“After you, Doctor Watson.”

The boat wasn’t large either. Just enough room for a family outing for the McMahan’s. Two vinyl seats near the steering column, two in the front and a padded bench seat across the back over the gas tanks.

The interior of the little craft was upholstered in cream and tan. Beneath my feet brown turf scratched at the edges of my boots.

I tapped my toe. “Doesn’t look good does it?”

Louise fished the puffy floating key chain from her purse and rattled it in front of her.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

I snatched the key from her hand.

“You start collecting on deck I’ll see what he’s hiding in the bowels of this dinghy.”

She made a lame attempt to take back the key. “Why you?”

The childish streak that ran straight through me giggled. She knew as well as I did, if there were a proverbial smoking gun, it was locked in the belly of this whale.

I pointed to her leg. “You’d have a bitch of a time sitting on your knees and digging through the boxes. You can’t even crouch.”

I wiggled the key between two fingers, then snapped my fingers closed.

“Sorry but you’re on injured reserve. I, on the other side, am on my “A” game.”

She folded her arms over her chest and glared at me.

The boat rocked to the side from an errant wave that slapped against it. I had to correct my balance. Even injured what was left of Louise’s legs were all sea worthy, and she didn’t move.

Finally, she relaxed.

“Alright, you have a point.”

“Yes.” I did my version of a touchdown dance.

She didn’t seem to appreciate my dancing skills. “Let’s get to work.”

I danced my way over to the lock up, dropped to my knees, and inserted the key into the lock. The key turned easily. I lifted the trap door. Adrenaline pulsed through me with anticipation. Maybe there would be rags soaked in blood or some other bit of evidence.

The lid flopped back on the deck. I peered inside.

No bloody rags, just brightly colored safety vests. I pushed them aside and dug through as eager as a kid on Christmas morning. Finally, I broke through the vests to the bottom of the compartment. Empty. Skunked again.

“Hey, Sherlock.” Louise held up a plastic baggy.

“What is it?”

“A gold hook. Just like the hook found in Pease’s arm. It was stuck in the edge of the cushion back here.”

“Score!”

She did her wounded version of a victory dance. “What did you find back there, oh mighty key bearer?”

I looked down at the empty cavern. “I’m not done looking.”

The statement was half true. One compartment was empty, but there was one compartment left to go. This compartment had to hold something good, after all how many life vests could a little boat like this need?

Turned out six more life vests in various sizes was the answer. The bottom of the boat was clean.

“The hook is a good start,” Louise said. “If digs can match this to the one in Pease’s arm and the chemical composition of the clay his kids were playing with we might have a winner.”

Halfway back to the main dock a boat passed within a few feet of us causing the dock to gyrate like a belly dancer. The driver made a circle around the bay and came back toward us. As the boat got closer, we could make out the Sheriffs emblem on the side and Deputy Watkins behind the wheel. He’d probably noticed Louise on the dock and decided to see if he could score a few more points with her.

Louise straightened, pulled her shoulders back, and gave Watkins an alley cat grin.

I was personally glad Digs wasn’t here to see Louise. Her overt attraction to Watkins would break his poor heart. Digs might wear thick glasses, but even a blind man could see what was crackling between these two.

“Hey, Detectives.” Watkins waved. “What are you two up to?”

“Investigating,” I said.

“On the dock?” His eyes slid over the full-length of Louise. “Did you find anything?”

By this time, I should be used to being ignored, but my ego wasn’t giving up without a fight.

“What color is the synthetic carpeting in your boat, Deputy?” I snapped.

Louise and Watkins both looked at me. The Deputy in confusion and Louise in disgust.

“What?”

“The turf in your boat.” I pointed. “What color is it?”

He looked down. “Brown. Why?”

“Just curious.” I raised my eyebrows at Louise.

She frowned at me. “Ignore her, Deputy.”

“Why did you want to know what color the turf is in the boat?”

Louise relayed the information we’d received from Digs about the hook, thread, and anchor. She left out the bit about the sculpting clay and the hook she’d found in McMahan’s boat. I couldn’t tell if her oversight was intentional, or not. After working with Louise for so many years, I was positive she knew what to reveal and what to conceal.

“Jesus Christ,” Watkins said. “Excuse my language but what a horrible way to die.”

An uneasy feeling slid up my spine. That’s the reaction I’d had when I thought Warren Pease had been gutted, but Deputy Watkins thought that hitting his head was a horrible way to die? It didn’t make sense.

“Detective O’Brien,” he said. “I’m guessing, you think I had something to do with Warren’s death, if you asked about the turf in the boat. Out of curiosity what motive do you think I had to kill him?”

Besides framing Patrick King for murder? I didn’t have an answer to that yet, but I knew I didn’t trust Watkins.

“I don’t suspect you at all, Deputy Watkins.” I forced a smile. “I was just curious, how common is brown turf in a boat?”

“Very,” he said. “Probably because brown doesn’t show the dirt and blood.”

“Blood?” Louise said.

“Yeah, sometimes when you take a hook out, depending on how far in it went when the fish swallows, they’ll bleed. Sometimes, if you’re not careful, you can get yourself, with a hook, a knife, a catfish-” He shrugged. “There’s plenty on the water that will help relieve you of blood.”

That was a pleasant thought.

“Just the other day, we had a boat full of guys out here on vacation. They’d been drinking, and one of them cast his line without realizing he’d hooked one of his buddies behind him in the eyelid. That made an awful mess.”

Oh, no. Where was Gavin? Now I had to worry about him coming home looking like a pirate with an eye patch or worse.

“Drinking and fishing don’t mix in my opinion. There are too many things that can go wrong, from hook injuries, to drowning, to a boat collision.”

“Well, I guess it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.”

They both looked at me with blank stares.

I shrugged. “At least that’s what my Mom always says.”

A giggle bubbled up to the back of my throat. I stifled the laugh before it could escape.

“Catherine?” Louise said.

“Sorry it just struck me as funny.” I lost control, and the giggles rolled free.

“You have a stupid sense of humor,” she said.

Deputy Watkins nodded his agreement.

“Oh, come on.” A small snort escaped. “That was funny.”

“Excuse her,” Louise said, as if it were her job to explain my behavior to others. Hell, I could care less what Deputy-Tight-Butt thought of me.

“She hasn’t had enough coffee today.”

I laughed harder.

“That’s alright.” He scowled at me. “Detective Montgomery, would you care to have dinner with me this evening? We don’t exactly have any four star restaurants around here, but there’s a nice little place called the Trade Winds that you can only get to by boat. I’d love to take you there.”

I sobered fast. “No!”

“Catherine,” Louise warned. “I apologize Deputy, but I have promised to have dinner with someone else this evening.”

I should have known she had too much class to ditch Digs like a teen ditching their parents at the mall. Score one for Louise’s good karma.

“I appreciate the offer though. It sounds like an interesting place to eat.”

“Oh, it is. They have the best Walleye you’ve ever tried. How about a rain check then?” He leaned in toward her. “What about tomorrow?”

“That would be nice.”

“It’s a date then,” he said. “Tomorrow, say six o’clock? I can pick you up here on the dock.”

“I’ll be ready and waiting.”

I was going to be ill. These two would be circling and sniffing each other soon. The image made the giggles start up again.

Deputy Watkins floated off into the sunset. Louise, stood at the end of the dock, shoulders back, girls forward, and waved until his boat was a speck in the distance.

I sauntered up next to her, let out an audible sigh, and laced my fingers together over my heart.

“Oh, when will he come back? He’s so cute. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”

Louise put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me.

“What is Digs going to think when he learns you’re two timing him?”

“I am not dating Digs.” She turned to limp away from me down the dock.

“He thinks you are.”

“You are overreacting, Catherine.”

I chased after her. “No. I don’t think I am. Are you blind? Digs thinks dinner tonight is more than just dinner.”

“He does not.”

“He does too.”

“Catherine, it’s my problem if he does. And I think I can handle it,” she said. “It’s really none of your business.”

“I just don’t want to see Digs get hurt. We have to work with him,” I said. “He’s the best forensics guy in Minnesota. Shit! He’s probably the best in the country, and I don’t want to lose him as a resource, because you are too blind to see how he feels about you.”

She stopped short and turned toward me with her fists balled at her sides. “I’m not going to hurt Digs.”

“Please, think about what you’re doing. At least don’t flaunt your date with Deputy Watkins in front of him.”

“I’ll handle it.”

I had the feeling this was going to turn out badly. Digs would be devastated when he learned Louise made a date for tomorrow. When she agreed to have dinner with him, his hope had gone from nonexistent, to right through the roof.

I still had a hard time believing Louise couldn’t see the way Digs felt about her. I guess having men fawn all over you all your life had some drawbacks. The constant stream of lust she felt aimed at her every day must have desensitized her to real feelings.

Digs didn’t just look at Louise as a beautiful woman, though I’m sure he’d noticed. In his eyes, Louise was the smartest, most capable woman on the face of the earth. To him, she could do no wrong. Because of this belief, she could cut him without even knowing it.

I decided it wouldn’t do any good to lecture Louise anymore. She wasn’t listening. I followed her to the car.

“Where to?” I asked and leaned on the roof of the car.