Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (29 page)

Charlie had already snagged a table by the
time Starr got to the buffet. Starr put her backpack down and
handed Charlie a bunch of Ziploc bags.

"In case we don't get back in time for
lunch," she grinned.

"Or snacks," Charlie said, returning the
grin.

Back at the buffet, Starr began heaping her
plate with pancakes. She still couldn't believe she had been so
lucky to find someone like Charlie up here. Especially now. They
would have all kinds of fun together once they took care of the
killer.

As she returned to the table, her eyes went
to a man just getting seated by the window on the far side of the
main dining room. She stopped short, almost tipping her breakfast
onto the floor. Fortunately she caught herself before the syrup
could drip onto the carpet. She put the plate down quickly and slid
into her chair, her legs suddenly weak.

"What?" Charlie asked, her eyes big.

"It's him!" Starr hissed.

Charlie's head swiveled.

"Don't turn around. Act normal or he'll see
us."

"Where is he?" Charlie whispered.

"Straight behind you by the window."

"What's he doing?"

"He just sat down. It looks like he's reading
the menu."

"I think I need some more something," Charlie
said as she stood up.

"What are you going to do?" Now Starr was
worried. What if he saw her and made a big fuss. Her mother would
kill her. Worse, she might get sent back to her grandparents.

"Don't worry," Charlie reassured her. She
walked over to the buffet and loaded a plate with bread, cheese and
fruit, then walked slowly back to the table.

Starr didn't dare move in case she drew
Fowler's attention, but she watched Charlie out of the corner of
her eye, admiring the way her friend remained so cool.

Charlie put the heaping plate on the table.
"Now we have something to put in the bags."

"Did you see him?"

"Fishy Fowler?" Charlie nodded. "I'm glad I
saw what he looks like in the daytime. It was kind of hard to see
last night."

Starr stuffed the food into the bags and
placed some in her backpack and gave the rest of the bags to
Charlie. "What else do we want to take with us?"

"How about some apples. And I think there's
still some juice left."

Starr went back to the buffet and snagged a
little more cheese, as well, while she was there.

By the time they finished raiding the buffet,
their backpacks were getting heavy.

"I have a basket on my bike," Charlie said.
"That way, if we have to go into town, we won't have to carry all
this stuff the whole way."

"Do you think we'll have to?" Starr asked.
She had been hoping that talking to the park ranger again would be
enough.

"Probably," Charlie said thoughtfully. "I
mean, somebody died. So I'll bet the sheriff is in charge now." She
wrinkled her nose. "He's a real jerk.
And
he doesn't like
Indians and makes sure we all know it, too."

Starr's heart sank. Now she really hoped she
didn't have to go into Ruby Cove. "You sure you want to come? You
don't have to."

"Sure I do," Charlie replied. "Besides, I
don’t have to go inside. But let's see what happens when you talk
to Mr. Donovan first. Maybe that will do it and then I can show you
some of the smuggler's caves."

"Smugglers? Here?"

Charlie grinned. "A long time ago, anyway.
I'll tell you all about it on the way to the park."

"Cool."

The girls pulled on their backpacks, returned
the trays of dirty dishes to the conveyor belt and went out the
back door where Charlie had parked her bike.

After strapping the backpacks into the
basket, they walked down to the lakeside walkway.

Charlie got on her bike and peddled slowly
while Starr trotted along side. At first she was a little stiff
because she hadn't done any serious running in awhile, but it
didn't take long to loosen up and get into a comfortable
stride.

Fowler spotted the girl as he came into the
dining room. She was sitting with another girl and he took a table
by the far window where he could keep a good watch. When the two
girls left by the back door, he casually strolled out onto the
front terrace and took one of the Adirondack chairs, pretending to
read the paper. An old cliché, but he had no doubt it would work.
Especially up here. He was hoping they'd head towards the cabins so
he could find out where the red-headed girl was staying.

A few minutes later, the girls came around
the corner. The darker one was pushing a bike while the brat with
the red hair walked next to her. When they got to the trail near
the lake, they turned north instead of south which meant they
weren't going to the cabins and he'd have to find another way.

Fowler watched until they were out of sight,
then folded his paper and strolled back inside.

At the front desk, he asked for a map of the
area and the Superior Hiking Trail. He knew they had those, as
Diana had picked some up when they first arrived at the Lodge.

The clerk at the desk handed him the maps.
"Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I think that'll do," he said brightly
and started to walk away. Then, as if he had just remembered
something, he turned back.

"By the way," he said. "Who's that girl with
the red hair? Always has a camera?"

"She hasn't been bothering you, has she?" the
clerked asked, looking worried.

"Oh no, nothing like that," Fowler said. "I
was just curious. I'm a bit of a photography buff myself. It's just
unusual to see a kid who's so serious about a hobby like that."

"It is, isn't it. She always has that camera
with her."

"She's not a guest here, then?"

"Oh no," the clerk said. "Her mother works
here."

"So she comes in with her mother every day?
That's kind of hard," Fowler said innocently.

"Not really. We have housing for most of our
employees at the far end of the grounds," she said, pointing
vaguely south. "It makes it so much easier to work here if you
don't have to drive for miles."

"That's kind of nice. Especially in the
winter."

"You betcha. Those roads can get pretty
rough. And when it's snowing, sometimes the wind blows in off the
lake and you can't hardly see the front of your car."

"Don't think I could live up here in the
winter," Fowler said.

"Well, it's not for everyone. You really
gotta like it here."

"I'll bet. Thanks for the map," Fowler said,
making sure she would focus on that and not the questions about the
brat.

"No problem," the clerk said, already
concentrating on whatever was on the computer.

Fowler returned to his room and studied the
map. He hadn't really looked at the one Diana had picked up and now
he was pleased to see it was much better than he'd expected. The
front portion detailed several miles of the area around Ruby Cove,
and the back displayed a detailed map of the grounds at the Storm
Point Lodge, including the employee housing area and various
walkways.

There was probably no telling which cabin
belonged to the meddlesome brat, but he figured he could get the
lay of the land so it would be easier later on to find out which
cabin she was using. From there, it would be easy to get the camera
and dispose of any pictures she might have taken.

He grinned wolfishly as he pulled on his
jacket. Maybe he'd just go for a stroll around Storm Point Lodge. A
little reconnaissance might be very useful before he headed into
Ruby Cove. Especially since the kid had been so kind as to take
herself somewhere else for awhile.

By the time the girls reached the Visitor
Center at the Enchantment River State Park, Starr had heard all
about the smugglers who had run whiskey in from Canada during
prohibition.

"A lot of the families here were part of it,"
Charlie told her.

"Including yours?" Starr had never met a
smuggler before.

"Oh sure," Charlie said. "Mostly my mom's
side. I've heard lots of stories, but mostly everyone talks about
how tough times were up here then and how running whiskey was the
only way they could make ends meet."

"I know what that's like," Starr said,
thinking of the past couple of years. "I wish we'd had smuggling
down in the Cities."

"Yeah, but when they got rid of Prohibition,
it was all over. And then times were hard again. The North Shore
wasn't as popular as it is now."

"So how come they call this Enchantment
River?" Starr wanted to know. "Was it because of the
smuggling?"

"Naw. The Voyageurs named most of the rivers
and lakes around here. That's where my mom's family comes from."
Charlie pointed up the coast of Lake Superior. "There's even a
Voyageurs Park just past Grand Marais. There's a big festival next
month. We always go 'cause they make it the way it was a long time
ago. It's really cool. Maybe you can come with us."

"That sounds like fun," Starr said. "You sure
know a lot of stuff."

"I like to read," Charlie confessed. "But
mostly I have some really interesting relatives."

Starr hoped she'd get a chance to meet them
some day. "Living here is sure a lot more exciting than the
Cities," she told Charlie. "There's nothing like this down there."
Not to mention
her
relatives who were no fun at all, let
alone interesting.

Then she saw the ranger get out of his car
and stood up. "Hi, Mr. Donovan," she said as he reached the
door.

"Good morning, girls," he said as he opened
the door. Starr followed him inside, with Charlie right behind.

Starr waited patiently while the ranger let
himself into the area behind the counter and put his things down
before turning to them.

"So what can I do for you this morning?" he
asked.

"Have you heard anything?" Starr asked. "Did
the sheriff come?"

He looked confused for a moment and Starr
wondered if he had already forgotten what had happened. Then he
shook his head. "Oh. No. His lab guy came, but the results probably
won't be in for a few days."

"The sheriff didn't come?" Starr couldn't
believe it.

The ranger shrugged. "He said there wasn't
much he could do. He's going to wait and see what the lab
says."

"Don't you believe me?"

The ranger sighed. "It's not that," he said
finally. "There's no body. So we can't tell if anything actually
happened. And it's possible you misunderstood what you saw. We just
won't know until the lab sends back its report."

"So there's nothing else we can do?" Starr
could barely contain her frustration.

"Well, actually, I'm just the park ranger.
The sheriff is in charge now, so there's nothing more I can do in
any case. If you want to talk to him, his office is in Ruby Cove.
But he's just going to tell you the same thing."

"But what about the killer? He'll get
away."

Donovan just shrugged again. "Like I said,
you'll have to talk to the sheriff."

Realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere,
Starr trudged back outside, trying to think what to do now. When
the door had swung closed behind them, she turned to Charlie. "What
do you think?"

"I don't know," Charlie said. "Maybe talking
to the sheriff will help or maybe he'll just tell you the same
thing the ranger did. What do
you
want to do?"

Starr made a face as she thought about it.
What she really wanted to do was get her camera and take some
pictures or hear more of Charlie's stories.

"I think I should at least talk to the
sheriff," she said finally. "Maybe that will take care of
everything and then we can go do something fun. Do you mind showing
me how to get to Ruby Cove?"

"Okay," Charlie said cheerfully. "Do you have
any money?"

"A little. Why?"

"If we're going to go to Ruby Cove, we might
as well stop at Suzanne's Pies and have some lemon meringue pie.
It's awesome."

Starr grinned. Now she knew why Charlie was
so round. "It's really that good?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "People go
miles out of their way to eat there. It's famous."

"Okay," Starr said. "That sounds good."

Fowler strolled down to Lake Superior. When
he reached the edge of the lake, he turned right as if he was
heading for the Storm Point lookout. Of course, he wasn't going
anywhere near there. He'd already been there, done that and didn't
even remotely want the t-shirt. But anyone watching would assume
the Point was his destination and find it unremarkable and,
therefore, beyond notice.

He had long ago learned that perception was
everything. People would overlook even the most obvious truth if
what they saw contradicted it. So he always assumed his actions
were noticed and took care to act the part he wanted people to see.
Best of all, it look little effort. Only a few choice details were
needed to create the all-important appearance that so few looked
beyond.

For this trip, he sauntered along the shore
as if happily sight-seeing, while his mind ticked away, checking
out the area. Near the Lodge, the trees had been cleared away, but
the further he went, the thicker they become until he couldn't see
around them. He could see the corner of one of the cabins nearest
the Lodge, but the curtain of trees hid the rest of the cabins,
creating privacy for the employees by making them essentially
invisible. He had the impression the trees also hid the cabins from
each other.