The Lost Women of Lost Lake (21 page)

BOOK: The Lost Women of Lost Lake
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He glanced down the hall, wondering what he should do about Ruth.

“In here,” said Kelli, giving him a look that said
don't waste my time
.

“Oh. Okay,” he said. “What's up?”

Kelli claimed the piano bench, while the deputy made himself comfortable on the couch. Wendell sat down on the footstool, sensing instantly that it had been a bad choice. He was a foot shorter than everyone else. It made him feel like a kid in the company of adults.

Kelli bent forward and rested her arms on her thighs. “I need to know where you were on Tuesday, before you got to the theater.”

“Tuesday? You mean the night that man died? Well, I … I'd have to think. I guess I was here. I took a shower, got dressed, and then walked over to the community center.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Could Helen say what time you left?”

“She was upstairs in her bedroom watching TV.”

“Did you talk to anyone?”

“Why all the questions?”

She shifted back a little. “You told me when I questioned you that night that you'd talked to this Feigenbaumer once. He'd stopped by while you were out cutting the grass, told you that some of the shingles on the roof were rotted.”

“Right.”

“And that's all? He didn't say anything else?”

“Just the usual. We talked about the weather, where he could find the best fishing.”

“He mention where he was staying?”

Wendell shook his head.

“We found the murder weapon.”

“You did?” His peripheral vision caught movement to his right. Turning, he found Ruth standing under the archway.

“A thirty-eight caliber revolver with two bullets left in the cylinder. You know anything about that?”

“Me? Why would I?”

“Want to know where we found the gun?”

He shrugged.

“In a locker in the dressing room at the theater. It was wrapped in a rag and stuffed on the top shelf behind a script. It was your locker, Wendell. Can you explain how the gun got there?”


My
locker? If you found a gun, somebody must have put it there.”

“Like who?”

“Whoever killed him.”

“Did you murder Steve Feigenbaumer, Wendell?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you have no way to verify where you were late Tuesday afternoon.”

“I didn't do it.”

“I need you to come down to the sheriff's office with us.”

“Are you arresting me?”

“No.”

“But you're going to.”

“I never said that.”

“I want a lawyer,” he said.

The muscles along her jawline tightened. The fact that he'd thwarted her so easily gave him a feeling of power. For once in his life, he felt as if he'd stood up to authority and won.

“You are, of course, entitled to have a lawyer present, although it's not necessary.”

“Of course it's necessary,” said Ruth, speaking for the first time.

Wendell looked up at her with grateful eyes.

Kelli and the deputy stood. She handed him her card. “I'd like you and your lawyer to call and make an appointment for later this afternoon. I can hold you on a probable cause warrant if I need to, so don't mess with me on this. Take it seriously, Wendell.” She nodded to Ruth and said, “Nice to see you, Mrs. Jensen,” on the way out.

25

Jane and Cordelia walked through a dispiriting drizzle, umbrellas held over their heads, to the cottage for an early lunch. They were both tired from the conversation they'd had last night, one that had lasted into the wee hours of the morning. Even after hearing what Jane had learned in Chicago, Cordelia still maintained that Tessa could be innocent because they didn't have all the details.

“Did you tell Tessa and Jill that I had food poisoning?” asked Jane.

“I almost had to physically restrain Tessa. She wanted to phone you and tell you how you should treat it. You owe me big time.”

Hearing how concerned Tessa had been about her, Jane started to think that she wasn't much of a friend. She didn't have any sort of inner conviction that, given what she now knew, Tessa could still be innocent. She didn't want the trail to lead to Tessa's door any more than Cordelia did, and yet she had to follow the evidence, wherever it led.

This morning, while showering, she'd remembered something Helen Merland had said at breakfast the other day. She'd asked them if they'd come to town to see how Sabra was doing. When Cordelia called her on it, she had claimed confusion and quickly switched the name to Tessa. At the time, Jane hadn't though much of it. Now she realized how significant that moment of confusion was.

When they walked in the cottage door, Jill and Tessa asked how Jane was feeling.

“Where do you think you got the food poisoning?” asked Jill.

Jane pressed a hand to her stomach, pretending that she still wasn't a hundred percent. “I'll probably never know. But I feel better.”

It looked as if Jill had brought sandwiches down from the lodge. She stood behind the kitchen island, arranging them on a platter.

Tessa was already at the table, leg propped on low footstool, pouring glasses of lemonade. “This should be good for what ails you,” she said. “Made it myself. A little lemon goes a long way to ease the digestion.”

Jonah sat across from Tessa, looking miserable. “I'm under house arrest,” he said, his eyes fixed on the gloomy day outside the front windows. “Hey,” he said, pointing. “Kelli Christopher's here.”

Jill skirted around the island, set the platter on the table, then dashed to open the front door. “Hi,” she said, her voice betraying her nervousness. “You've come at the perfect time. We've got lots of food.”

“Thanks,” said Kelli, removing her cap, “but I'm afraid this is business.”

“Have you learned anything more about Feigenbaumer's demise?” asked Cordelia. She taken the chair next to Tessa and was scrutinizing the platter of sandwiches.

There were six chairs at the table and only five people gathered to eat, so Kelli helped herself to the chair closest to Jane and sat down. “We found the gun that was most likely used in Feigenbaumer's murder.”

“Where?” asked Jane.

“At the theater. It's a thirty-eight caliber Smith and Wesson double-action revolver. Five rounds. Blue aluminum alloy frame. Three of the rounds were spent. Two were still in the cylinder. We checked the serial number. The gun was sold to one Tessa Cornell at a gun shop in Grand Rapids in June of nineteen eighty-three.”

Jill's hand flew to her mouth.

“Calm down,” said Tessa. “The gun was obtained legally and registered. And I did not kill that man. How could I? I can barely walk.”

Tessa had been in her walking boot for two days when Feigenbaumer had been shot, and seemed to be getting around pretty well, although she claimed great pain, and when anybody was around, rarely got off the couch. As alibis went, this one wasn't all that solid. There was also the matter of the Volvo's warm motor on Tuesday night. Jane didn't intend to keep it to herself much longer.

“Can you explain how your gun came to be used in a murder?” asked Kelli.

“I gave it to Lyndie LaVassar on Monday morning. I didn't know it was used to kill Feigenbaumer. The last I saw it, Lyndie was stuffing it into her purse.”

“Why on earth would you give a gun to Lyndie?” demanded Jill.

“Because she asked me for it. She was frightened and said she needed protection.”

“Did she say why?” asked Kelli.

“No, and I didn't ask. It was her business.”

Kelli hooked her arm over the back of the chair. “Can you prove you gave it to her?”

Tessa seemed annoyed that her word would be challenged.

“I saw it all,” said Jonah.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“I was in the kitchen getting myself some breakfast. I heard Tessa and Mrs. LaVassar talking. It was just like Tessa told you. She called me in and asked me to go get an old metal case she keeps in this trunk. I saw her give the gun to Mrs. LaVassar. Saw her leave with it.”

“So,” said Kelli, thinking out loud as she scratched her cheek, “how did the gun get from Lyndie to the person who murdered Steve Feigenbaumer?”

“What about the bullet you found embedded in the wood paneling at the emporium the night Lyndie went missing?” asked Jane. She didn't mention that Kelli had thought the bullet had probably been there for years. “That was a thirty-eight caliber slug, right? Have you run the ballistics?”

Kelli flicked her eyes to Jane. “Not yet.”

“Seems to me that the gun used to fire a shot into the emporium wall, if it was Tessa's gun, might have been taken away by Lyndie's murderer. That's more proof that the two murders are connected.”

“It's an interesting theory,” said Kelli.

Tessa could have left the cottage in her car on Tuesday afternoon and had a hand in Feigenbaumer's death. On the other hand, it seemed highly unlikely that she had anything to do with Lyndie's murder. Unless, that is, she had help.

Kelli folded her hands on the table. “Did you ever meet this Feigenbaumer, Tessa?”

“Never.”

Jane caught Jill's eye, saw the guilt mixed with anxiety. Everyone around the table knew that Feigenbaumer had been looking in Tessa's office window on Sunday night. They'd all witnessed her reaction, which was clearly fear, if not outright terror, and yet nobody brought it up. For good or ill, they were all protecting her. She may never have met the cop from Chicago, so she hadn't outright lied. That, however, was a technicality. She knew who he was and what he represented.

“Jane,” said Kelli, rising from her chair. “Will you walk me out to my car? I'm sorry if I spoiled your lunch,” she added, nodding to everyone, “but I had to get the question of the gun cleared up.”

“Not a problem,” said Tessa. “If I can help with the investigation in any way, just ask. Until this ankle gets better, I'm pretty much stuck here all the time.”

Cordelia's hand shot up. “Before you go, do you have any idea when we'd be able to get back into the theater? We have a production that's been put on hold.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” said Kelli. “Might be late in the day. When was opening night scheduled for?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh. Well, I'd say you're looking at Saturday night at the earliest.”

The rain had stopped and the clouds were starting to break up when Jane and Kelli stepped out onto the deck. Kelli led the way down the steps to her squad car. Leaning against the front fender, she said, “I have a question for you.”

Jane waited.

“So I'm doing my homework last night, calling people in Chicago to try to find out just who this Steve Feigenbaumer was so I can get a handle on why he'd come to our fair town. I'm talking to his ex-wife when she mentions that a PI had come to her house yesterday to ask questions. She said the woman's name was Lawless.”

Jane couldn't help but smile.

“I thought you were a restaurateur. Now I hear that you're a private investigator?”

“Not officially. I sometimes work with an ex-homicide cop. He's the one with the license.”

“And you flew to Chicago to interview people?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Jane shrugged. “I'm looking into the murders.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because Jill asked me to.”

Kelli rubbed the back of her neck. “You amaze me.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn't a compliment. What did you find out?”

“Probably the same information you did.”

“We need to talk.”

“You want to share notes?”

“I'm not sharing anything.”

“Then why should I help you?”

“We both want the same thing, right? The truth? Or are you looking into this for Jill because you're trying to protect Tessa?”

“That's not my intent.”

Gazing straight into Jane's eyes, Kelli said, “Who
are
you?”

“Not the bubblehead you thought I was.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but with your superior abilities and instincts—”

“Are you saying I'm arrogant?”

“The thought did cross my mind.”

“All right,” said Kelli, holding up her hand. “Truce. I've heard the criticism before. Maybe I do come across as too self-confident. I have to. Law enforcement up here is a man's job and I'm not a man.”

“Makes sense,” said Jane.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do people know you're gay?”

“I don't go around announcing it, but sure, I figure most sentient people know. That doesn't cover everyone.”

Jane laughed.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Haven't thought about it.”

“I'll pick you up at the lodge at six. I live just outside of Balsam Lake, about thirty miles away. That's where the county offices are located.”

“And what would we do?”

“Eat. Talk. Commune.”

“Define commune?”

For the first time, Kelli smiled. “Work on our rapport. Sound like a plan?”

Jane matched Kelli's smile with one of her own. “I guess I could do that.”

“Six on the dot,” said Kelli, sliding into the front seat of the cruiser.

“Should I bring my Chicago notes?”

“I kinda doubt you're the sort who needs them.”

*   *   *

Shortly after one, Jane trotted up the steps to the community center. Yellow police tape crisscrossed the double doors that lead into the theater. Straight in front of her was the gift shop. She asked the woman behind the counter if Fontaine Littlewolf was around and was directed to an elevator. Once up on the second floor, she found Fontaine in a workshop at the end of the hall. Since the door was open and she could see him sitting at his desk writing, she didn't knock. She didn't notice Emily sitting on a folding chair a few feet behind Fontaine until she was all the way inside.

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