Read Murder in the Devil's Cauldron Online
Authors: Kate Ryan
Tags: #suspense, #murder, #murder mystery, #murderer, #photography, #cabin, #suspense thriller, #hiking, #minnesota, #ojibway, #con artists, #suspense fiction, #con man, #con games, #murder madness thriller, #north shore, #murdery mystery, #devils cauldron, #grand marais, #naniboujou, #cove point lodge, #edmund fitzgerald, #lutsen, #dreamcatcher, #artists point, #judge magney state park, #enchantment river, #temperance river, #minnesota state park, #tettegouche state park, #baptism river, #split rock state park, #gooseberry falls, #embarass minnesota, #minnesota iron range, #duluth minnesota, #voyageurs, #lake superior, #superior hiking trail, #highway 61, #tofte
Dazed, Starr tried sitting up, but her head
started spinning and she felt like throwing up, so she lay down
again. She had a crazy thought that a deer had just jumped onto the
porch, but then realized that didn't make sense.
Then she realized her mother could come home
at any time and she struggled to her knees and managed to unlock
the door. Remembering to take her key, she crawled inside, locked
the door and then slowly crawled to her room, stopping frequently
to keep her head from spinning. Finally, she managed to get on the
bed and curled up.
Fowler hadn't gone far when he realized that
the backpack was suspiciously light. Concerned he'd be seen, he
continued on to the parking area, but when he got to his car, he
opened the trunk. Then, using the trunk to shield what he was
doing, he opened the backpack and realized it only held a few
plastic bags and a shirt.
"Damn her."
He slammed the trunk closed. If the camera
wasn't in the backpack, it must still be in the cabin. But
where?
He started back towards the cabin. He could
easily break in again. But this time, he'd get her to give him the
camera.
Fortunately, he hadn’t gone far when he
realized he was being stupid. The kid had probably already called
someone. The mother could return at any time and might be there
already. Hell, the sheriff could even be on his way.
Fowler slowed, then stopped.
He'd have to think of something else.
He returned to his car. He had one hand on
the door handle when he remembered the backpack. He needed to do
something with that.
If the kid had called the sheriff, the guy
might ask to see his room or his car. He'd probably say "just to
ease my mind' or something equally disingenuous. But Fowler knew
that if he wasn't willing, the sheriff would become even more
suspicious. Which could well screw up everything.
Fowler opened the trunk, pulled the backpack
out and carried it over to the trash bin. He was about to toss it
in when he realized that would simply confirm the kid's story.
He looked around carefully and went back to
the walkway. Hell, kids were always losing things, he thought and
tossed the backpack on the ground between a big tree and the path.
Kid probably didn't notice she dropped it, he rehearsed mentally.
You know how kids are.
That taken care of, he got in the car and
drove up to Ruby Cove.
After awhile, Starr began feeling better and
she went into the bathroom to wash her face. When she looked in the
mirror, she realized she looked as if she had been to a really
scary horror movie. But fortunately, she couldn't see any bruises.
She ran her fingers over the back of her head and could feel a
bump, but it only hurt a little, so she figured she'd be OK.
She went back to the front of the cabin and
looked out. She couldn't see anyone, so she grabbed the flashlight
and unlocked the door. Outside, she shone the flashlight around,
but her backpack was nowhere to be seen and she couldn't see
anything else that looked out of place.
Starr frowned and went back inside.
Wishing now she had managed to snag that
lemon tart, she went into the kitchen and put a sourdough English
muffin into the toaster. While she was waiting, she took out the
butter and got a plate, concentrating extra hard on each activity
so she wouldn't have to think about what had just happened.
When the muffin finally popped up, it
startled her and she dropped the butter knife. Hands shaking, she
washed it off, buttered the toast and carried it into her room.
There was just a spoonful of orange marmalade left and she
slathered it on the muffin and then took a nice big bite before
putting the jam back in the bottom drawer of the desk.
The jam was sweet and the taste of the
marmalade mixed in with the butter made her feel a lot better. She
sat on her bed and slowly munched on the muffin and tried to figure
out what to do next.
She knew she couldn't say anything to her
mother. First, she'd get in trouble for leaving the cabin. Plus,
while she had a pretty good idea who had just mugged her, she knew
her mother wouldn't believe her, even if she confessed to going
out. And it didn't help that there was no proof that anything had
happened except that her backpack was gone.
Starr grimaced as she examined all the
possibilities. She knew Charlie might have some ideas and maybe
Charlie's friend would, as well. So all she could hope for right
now was that Charlie had had a chance to talk to her dad and Mr.
Running Bear had successfully talked her mother into letting her
spend time with Charlie.
What Starr didn't understand, was why Fishy
Fowler wanted her backpack. There wasn't anything in it. She was
pretty sure he hadn't mugged her for the brownies. But what else
would he be after?
Abruptly she thought about her camera.
She rushed over to the closet and flung open
the door. The first thing she noticed was that her clothes were all
pushed to one side. She knew she hadn't left them that way.
Panic overwhelming her, she dove into the far
corner and yanked open the little trapdoor. She reached in,
expecting to find an empty space, but instead her fingers connected
immediately with the canvas bag and she could feel the lump of the
camera inside.
Starr breathed a sigh of relief before
closing the cubbyhole securely and crawling out of the closet. She
closed the closet door without getting up and sat cross-legged with
her chin on her hand while she tried to figure out what was going
on. But the only thing that came to mind was that maybe Fishy
Fowler thought her camera was in the backpack and that was why he
had grabbed it.
But why would he want her camera? And how did
he know where she lived? More importantly, how had he known she was
outside?
So far, Starr thought, she had questions, but
not a lot of answers.
As she heard her mother's key in the door,
Starr dashed back to the bed, grabbed her Harry Potter novel and
sat on the bed. A few minutes later, her mother walked into the
room and stared at her with a sort of puzzled scowl.
Starr mentally crossed her fingers and
waited.
"I don't know how you did it," her mother
said finally. "Mr. Running Bear, who runs the kitchen and who, as
you probably know, is your friend Charlie's father, has persuaded
me to let him supervise you. Which means you can spend time with
either him or Charlie."
"Oh thank you." Starr jumped off the bed with
excitement.
Her mother put her hand up. "Before you get
too excited, there are a few rules."
Starr looked at her, suspicious. "What
rules?"
"If you go anywhere, you must be with one of
them at all times. No ifs, ands, buts or maybes. You are not to go
anywhere
alone. And I mean
anywhere
. If Charlie or
her father are not available, you will stay here. I made it clear
to Mr. Running Bear that one of them must come by to pick you up
and drop you off."
Her mother shook her head. "I have no idea
why he agreed to that, but he did. But I better not catch you near
the Lodge by yourself. And frankly, even if you're with Mr. Running
Bear or Charlie, I don't want you near the Lodge unless you're
getting your meals. And then it better not be anywhere except the
employee dining area. Do you understand all that?"
"Yes," Starr said. "And I promise…."
"We'll see," her mother interrupted. "Just so
you know, one screw-up and you're on the bus. Understand?"
"Yes."
Her mother gazed at her speculatively, then
walked out of the room.
Starr wanted to shout with pure happiness,
but settled for a big grin instead. Which disappeared a moment
later.
"Stella! God dammit! Get in here."
Starr hurried out into the hallway. Her
mother was standing in the middle of her room, fury etched into her
face.
"What?" She went in and was shocked to see
the smear of dirt and leaves on the rug near the window.
"What the hell were you doing in here?"
Starr shook her head. "I wasn't in here. I
didn't do that. Honest."
"Then how did that mess get here?"
"I don't know." Then she remembered how she'd
been attacked and her backpack had been taken. Maybe he had been in
the cabin and took the backpack because he hadn't been able to find
her camera.
"You know something," her mother accused. "I
can see it on your face."
Thinking quickly, Starr said, "I did hear
something earlier. Kind of a weird thumping nose. I thought maybe
somebody was at the door or something. But when I looked, nobody
was there. And the sound went away, so I thought it was just a
deer."
She looked at her mother, her eyes growing
round as Starr realized that she had been right after all. The
killer
had
been in the cabin. If she hadn't gone out to see
Charlie, he might have done more than just mug her earlier.
Feeling suddenly shaky and very, very scared,
Starr grabbed the edge of the door for balance.
"You didn't use this window to go out?" Her
mother's voice was unusually quiet. She actually sounded as if she
believed Starr for once.
Starr shook her head. "Why would I? I have a
key. I wasn't in here."
"Where's the flashlight?"
"In the kitchen." Starr looked at the mess on
the rug again and then hurried down the hallway to the kitchen. She
got the flashlight out of the drawer and handed it to her
mother.
"You say in here," her mother said. I'm going
to go around back."
Starr went back to her mother's room and
watched as the light came around the corner and then traced the
edges of the window.
"The screen isn't even attached out here,"
her mother exploded. "Hell, we might as well not even bother
locking the door. Anyone could get in through the window.
Jesus!"
The light went back around the corner and
Starr hurried back to the living room and watched as her mother
checked the outside of the cabin. Then she came back inside, went
to the phone and dialed.
"I want to report a break-in," her mother
said and then gave their information. She hung up and went into the
kitchen without looking at Starr.
Starr heard the frig door open and close and
the coffee maker start up. Then her mother came back into the
living room.
"The sheriff's office is sending someone
over, so if you want to change your story, you better do it
now."
"It wasn't me," Starr said, not bothering to
hide her irritation.
Her mother nodded and went back into the
kitchen.
Starr curled up on the couch and wished she
had never seen Mrs. Fowler get pushed into the Devil's Cauldron.
She wished she had never told the ranger what she saw, and she
wished life wasn't so complicated. Now the sheriff was coming again
and she was going to have to lie. And all because no one believed
her when she told the truth.
Most of all, right now Starr wished she could
just go back to her room, climb into bed, pull the covers over her
head and go to sleep until all of this was over.
Fowler knocked on the motel door, hoping to
god Viv had followed orders. It opened a crack and Viv peered out
carefully.
"It's me," he said and pushed the door open.
He brushed past her impatiently. "Close the damn door," he
snapped.
She closed the door quickly and then turned
to look at him. "What happened."
"I didn't get it." Fowler started pacing in
circles, something he only did when he was extremely agitated.
"What didn't you get?"
He sighed and sat on the bed. "A kid who
lives at the Lodge has a camera and I think she got pictures of
me."
"So?"
"Fairly compromising pictures."
"Oh." She sat next to him. "So that's what
you were trying to get?"
"I got into her cabin, but didn't find it.
Then I managed to get a look in her backpack, but it wasn't there
either. All I can figure is that she has the damned thing stashed
somewhere until she can get the film developed."
"It's not digital?"
"No, thank god. Apparently she's trying to be
a real photographer, so she's still into the film thing."
"And you know this because…."
"Because I saw her taking pictures one
morning when I was with Diana and talked to her." He raised his
hand to forestall her comment. "I know. Stupid. But she had this
major lens and was about an inch away from this tree and I couldn't
help it. I had to know what the hell she was doing. And, yes, I was
trying to make points with Diana. But it never occurred to me she'd
be taking pictures of me later."
"Shit."
"Yeah."
"So we're not leaving tonight."
"We can't. We're going to go to Grand Marais
for dessert and a drink at that bar in the Marina to establish an
alibi for where I've been since dinner. Then we'll go back to the
Lodge."
"But if she called the police…."
"They'll never believe her. Except if we're
not where we're supposed to be. Besides, they can't prove I wasn't
with you all evening. And she didn't get a look at me."
Viv leaned back and stared at him. "Then
what?"
"Then tomorrow I get the film and we get the
hell out of here."
"If you couldn't find the camera tonight, how
are you going to get it tomorrow?"
"I'm still working on that."
"This is getting complicated," she said.
"Maybe we should just go while we have the chance. We sill have
time to get the money and vanish."