Dead Water (30 page)

Zenner pulled aside the shower curtain, exposing a small anteroom. “This Sheetrock was installed after I started working here last summer,” said Zenner. As he spoke, he set up the taller of the two stepladders. “Then Mr. Kendrickson had ceilings put in. But this was all one big room when I started.”

As Zenner talked, he climbed the stepladder, then boosted himself up onto a wide wooden beam to look over the wall between the closet and Hank’s office. Leaning forward, he lifted two panels from right in front of him, then pushed back and hurried down off the stepladder.

“Take a look,” he said to Ray. Ray went up, looked around, then motioned to Osborne to take a turn. Osborne hurried up the ladder, anxious to see what he could before Hank returned. The panels that Zenner had moved left an opening large enough for Osborne to see Hank’s entire office.

He scanned the room. It was expensively furnished in hunting lodge style. Fake logs paneled the walls. A weathered hunk of driftwood covered with glass rested in front of an overstuffed sofa upholstered in a Native American pattern.

Immediately below was a clear view of Hank’s desk, a heavy oak trestle table with a black leather chair. The desk held an open laptop computer, next to which was a neat stack of folders. A briefcase stood open on the floor beside the chair, and two suitcases were lined up against the wall behind the chair. To the left, just behind the entrance to the office, were three metal cases, familiar to Osborne as the type of case he used to ship his guns in when hunting out west.

Navaho rugs and a black bearskin pelt were scattered strategically across a floor of pegged oak. At the far end of the room was a conference table with four high-backed black leather chairs identical to the one at the desk. The tabletop was carved from a slab of some exotic wood, the surface heavily grained and the edges bark-covered. The slab rested on a solid oblong of black. Overhead hung a chandelier of elk horns.

Opposite the entry into the office was a wall of sliding doors made from solid planks of a bird’s-eye maple like Osborne hadn’t seen in years. Track lighting ran across the ceiling, the spotlights set to illuminate impressive mounts studding the timbers all around the room: muskie, salmon, deer, pheasant, walleye, and bass. Holding center stage, its angry tusks guarding the wall of doors, was the massive head of a wild boar.

It was the office of a wealthy man, a powerful man, a man who celebrated his prowess in commerce by hunting and fishing only the most challenging prey. If the trophies were to be trusted, Hank Kendrickson appeared to be the consummate sportsman.

“If you want, you can crawl along that double beam down the center of the room,” said Zenner, “then you can swing down onto the big table easy. The ceiling isn’t very high.”

His kneecap still smarting, Osborne had no intention of doing any such thing. “You give it a try if you want, Ray,” he said, backing down the stepladder. “Got your car keys? I want these boys out of here. You two go out to my place and wait for us to call.” Ray tossed his keys to Nick.

“I’d sure like to poke around if I could,” said Ray. “Doc, watch for Kendrickson; I’m going over to see what he’s got behind those sliding doors. Zenner, you know what’s on his computer?”

“Only what he has me work on. He can network into my computer and all my files, but he doesn’t give me access to his.” Zenner paused. “I think I know how to hack into his locked files, if that’s what you want.”

“How long would it take?”

“A few minutes is all, you can tell right away if you can do it or not.”

“What do you say, Doc, just two more seconds with the guys? Zenner, scoot over with me,” said Ray. “Let’s see what you can find.”

“No, Ray, it’s too risky,” said Osborne.

“Doc, even I know enough about computers to know that jabone can erase everything if he gets a hint that Lew is onto him.”

Osborne had to admit he had a point. “Okay, okay, but hurry it up.”

“C’mon, Zenner, hustle over here,” said Ray.

“I-I better not, Mr. Pradt. I tried it once. I made it over, but I almost fell through the ceiling. I’m just a little too—” The boy didn’t want to admit it, but his chunky frame wouldn’t be the easiest to maneuver across the rafters.

“I’ll do it,” said Nick. “I know how to hack, and Zenner can walk me through opening the files. Piece of cake. We’ll send it over to Zenner’s drive in the other room.”

“Yeah! Then I’ll E-mail to my computer at home.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said Ray. “Doc, did you hear what Zenner said? If Nick can open the locked files and transfer them to Zenner’s computer, we’ll have it all set up for Lew.”

“Just hurry, will you?” said Osborne, caving in. The stress was getting to him.
I’m too old for this
, he said to himself.

“Dr. Osborne?” Zenner called softly from where he was watching the road from the window in his office.

Osborne looked over quickly. “Someone coming?”

“No, but I was wondering. The work I was doing for Mr. Kendrickson … have we … did I do something wrong?”

“It’s nothing you did, Zenner,” said Osborne quietly. “But it’s looking like Hank Kendrickson may have to answer a few questions. We’ll know more later today.”

A sudden crash caused both of them to look toward the closet.

“That’s just one of the ladders,” said Zenner.

“Ray?” Osborne raised his voice. “Don’t push your luck, okay?”

All he got in return was a grunt.

Positioned at the windows in Zenner’s office, Osborne and the boy could see up the main drive and past the house where Hank lived, all the way to the highway.

“Any chance Hank could come the back way like we did?” asked Osborne.

“He never has,” said Zenner. “Only locals know that road.”

“Good. You keep an eye out,” said Osborne. “I’ll check on how Ray and Nick are doing.”

He got to the closet just in time to see Nick’s feet vanish from the top rung of the stepladder. He waited to hear Nick moving, then he followed him up the ladder.

Ray was moving quickly and easily along the wide beam to the far end of the room. Since the original structure had been a barn, a good amount of space remained even after adding a dropped ceiling. A person of average height could almost stand up beneath the roof rafters. Nick was inching along behind Ray.

As Osborne watched, Ray lifted and moved aside two ceiling panels over the conference table, then swung his feet down onto the table itself. He jumped to the floor and hurried over to the paneled wall. Pushing back the first sliding door, Ray whistled, then shoved the door back far enough so Osborne could see what the boar was so carefully guarding: Dust-free and neatly racked was an entire wall of firearms.

Ray whistled. “Very nice. Older models, expensive.” He reached out to grab one, then walked over to the window behind the conference table. The sunlight flooding into the room gleamed off the barrel of the shotgun. Tucking the stock into his shoulder, Ray pointed the gun out the window.

“Yes-s-s,” he said. “Someone has a passion for shooting.”

“Or for killing,” said Osborne under his breath.

“Hey!” Zenner shouted. “Someone’s coming! It’s the cops.”

thirty-four

“The wildness and adventure that are in fishing still recommend it to me.”

Henry David Thoreau

“Did
you hear that, Ray? Lew’s here,” said Osborne. He was surprised at the sense of relief he felt. He knew he did not want the boys around Hank Kendrickson if things were going to get tense. The shotgun still in his hand, Ray started for the door.

“The Range Rover is coming, too,” shouted Zenner. “What should we do?”

“Did you hear that, Ray?” said Osborne. “Hank’s back.”

“I better hide, what do you think, Doc?” Ray shoved the gun onto the rack and slid the door shut quickly.

“Yes, hurry.”

“Shit,” said Nick. He had reached the far end of the beam and was just about to drop onto the table. He edged back. Finding a rafter running crosswise, he angled himself onto it and backed off to the right, just above the gun closet, so Ray could swing up. “Good.” Osborne nodded to Nick. Nick’s beam ran perpendicular to the one Ray needed, allowing enough space for Ray to crawl back to the closet.

Ray was already on the conference table, hoisting himself up and into the ceiling when they heard voices out front. Carefully, he set the ceiling panels back in place over the conference table and started to crawl across the center beam toward Osborne and the closet. Stepping up onto the highest rung of the ladder, Osborne leaned, teetering, to slide the ceiling panels in front of him, the ones over Hank’s desk, back into place.

“Nick, stay where you are,” he whispered. “We don’t have time to get both of you back.” Then Osborne backed down the ladder to give Ray room. The murmur of voices outside grew nearer. Just as Ray started down the stepladder, they heard the door to Hank’s office open.

“S-s-h-h.” Ray put a finger to his lips as he looked down. He stayed where he was on the ladder, at shoulder-height to the ceiling. At the foot of the ladder, Zenner crowded in behind Osborne, his eyes wide with questions.

“Sorry to walk in on you like this, Hank,” said Lew, her voice so muffled that Osborne knew Kendrickson must have insulated the wall between the offices. “You remember meeting Gina Palmer, don’t you?”

“Of course. I had hoped to give you a tour of the game preserve, ladies, but I’m afraid an unexpected business trip has come up. I have a five o’clock flight out of Rhinelander today. We’ll have to reschedule—”

“We won’t stay long,” said Lew. “Just a minor business matter to clear up, Hank. Had a call this morning from an official with the NASD. They have a few questions regarding your setup here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Shall I put some coffee on?”

“No, thank you,” said Lew. “I’m afraid I’m coffeed out.”

“Nothing for me either,” said Gina, her voice louder than Lew’s and quite cheery.

“In that case, won’t you have a seat?” said Hank.

He must have gestured toward the conference table, as Osborne could hear the two women walk to the far end of the room. Chairs scraped across the floor as if they were sitting down. Then Hank cleared his throat.

He had to be standing near his desk because Osborne could hear him easily when he spoke. “Take a look at this mount, won’t you? I just picked it up. This is that beautiful brown trout I showed you the other day, Lewellyn. What do you think?”

Hank’s voice still sounded as unnaturally high and reedy as it had the day before, as if he was still battling a bad cold. Then he must have walked toward the women, because the volume of his voice dropped. Osborne struggled to hear. He could barely make out what sounded like appreciative murmurs.

Suddenly Lew’s voice was a little louder. “Hank, I guess Doc Osborne told you I can’t make it tonight, but if you have to leave town anyway, that works out after all.”

Osborne couldn’t hear his response, but he must have looked surprised because Lew said, “Didn’t Doc and Ray Pradt stop by?”

“No-o, but I’ve been running errands, Lewellyn.” Again, that annoyingly familiar use of her name.

“Where are the boys, Zenner and Nick? I thought they were working here today.”

“Oh, they finished up early. It’s too nice a day. I told ‘em to go fishing.”

“Oh.” It was Lew’s turn to sound surprised.

Again the voices grew difficult to hear. Osborne couldn’t make out any words. He looked at Ray, who shook his head in frustration as the muffled conversation continued.

“I want to hear this,” whispered Ray before hoisting himself back onto the wooden beam. Osborne cringed as he watched his friend crawl toward the far end of the room. He didn’t like asking the rafters to bear the weight of both Ray and Nick. This was one time he didn’t trust Ray’s judgment. He knew Ray was no Mr. Fix-it. He might be a wizard in the woods, but he when it came to plumbing, he was lousy. As for carpentry skills?
Jeez,
thought Osborne,
I hope he knows what he’s doing.

Osborne climbed cautiously up the ladder, the better to watch and listen. He crossed his fingers and hoped the soundproofing built into the ceiling panels worked in both directions, or that the few rustles Ray was making would sound like squirrels on the roof. That must have been the case, because no one sitting around the conference table seemed to notice. Nor did they appear to hear the faint click of the other stepladder as Zenner opened it and set it alongside Osborne’s.

Zenner climbed up to see what was going on. He waved at Nick, who was fully extended on the beam to the right, his chin braced on his hands.

It took less than a minute for Ray to reach a position he liked. Letting himself down off his hands and knees, he stretched out his long frame and leaned to his right. Moving very slowly, very carefully, he slipped his fingers under one of the ceiling panels. The minuscule gap worked: Suddenly the voices of Hank, Lew, and Gina were easy to hear.

“It appears to be a misunderstanding with your transfer license, Hank,” Lew was saying. “You have some sort of a financial organization set up here?”

“Why … yes.” Hank cleared his throat. “We have a credit union for the game preserve.”

“I see. So you can transfer funds from accounts here to other banks? Is that what Sandy Herre arranged for you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“But she didn’t tell you that you need a license to transfer funds?”

“Why, no, she didn’t.” Hank sounded quite concerned. “If I do, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll have my attorney take care of it immediately. Lewellyn, do you mind if I ask what Miss Palmer’s interest is in all this?” His supercilious tone made it obvious he felt he was being put in an embarrassing position in front of a stranger. The hint was clear: time to drop the subject.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” said Gina, very cheerfully. “I’m just along for the ride. I made an offer on some property this morning, and Chief Ferris thought I might enjoy seeing more of the lake country.”