Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (49 page)

"He won't," Starr said complacently.

"You don't know that."

"Sure I do. He doesn't know someone isn't
home. If he's sneaky enough to hide a fake wife at the Bide-A-Wee,
he isn't going to chance getting caught by checking out all the
homes on the North Shore."

Charlie propped her bike against the house
and started towards the deck in front.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to sit on the porch. She has two
cats and they let me pet them when I'm here."

Starr wasn't about to leave her camera alone
for a minute. She unstrapped it and was about to carry it to the
front porch when she heard a car turn into the driveway. She didn't
think twice. Starr sprinted to the front of the house, only looking
to see who it was after she got around the corner and knew she had
a head start.

Charlie leaned over to see. "It's okay. It's
Fae."

Starr breathed a sigh of relief. She slung
the strap of the camera case over her shoulder and went to meet
Charlie's friend.

The woman getting out of the car was wearing
a bright purple skirt, a loose blue shirt, a red belt and had wild
black hair. Starr grinned as she got a good look at the clothes.
She could see why Charlie liked her. She looked like she was
interesting
.

"Hi, Fae," Charlie said as she got close. "I
brought someone to meet you."

"Oh, Charlie," she said. "This is a really
bad time."

"I'm sorry, but this is really, really
important."

"I'm on a case right now, Charlie," Fae said.
"I can't stay. Could we talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow might be too late," Starr said,
getting closer. "I saw a murder and no one believes me. If we wait
until tomorrow, the killer will get away."

At that, Fae stood perfectly still and stared
at Starr. "What's the name of the killer?"

"We call him Fishy Fowler," Starr said,
wondering why that had been the question.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this an interesting
kettle of mosquitoes."

Charlie tried, not very successfully, to hide
a grin.

Fae took a deep breath and shoed them towards
the front of the house. "Well, don't just stand there, girls. Let's
go up on the porch and you can give me all the gory details. I'll
just bet you'd enjoy some nice cold lemonade and I believe I have
some cookies somewhere. If Casanova Marmalade hasn't eaten them
all."

"Cats don't eat cookies," Charlie
retorted.

Fae smiled. "Guess there'll be some for you,
then, won't there. Come on, inside. I've got the AC on and that
should help cool you off while we wait for the sheriff."

"Don't call the sheriff," Starr said.

"Why not?"

"I've already told him. He doesn't believe
me."

"He might now."

"My mom's mad at me 'cause he told her I was
a troublemaker."

"Who's your mom?"

"She's the new manager at Storm Point Lodge,"
Charlie said as she sat at the kitchen table.

"I see." Fae took three blue glasses out of a
bright yellow cupboard and placed them on the table, then got a
yellow pitcher out of the frig and poured the lemonade into the
glasses.

Starr half expected the lemonade to be an
unexpected color like all the other colors Fae had in the kitchen,
but it was the regular color.

Fae put a plate of cookies on the table and
then sat down.

"Why don't you tell me your story and we'll
see what we can do, all right?"

Starr looked at Charlie and then back at Fae.
"So you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you," Fae said. "You
don't look like someone who lies. Would you?"

Starr shook her head.

"Well, there you are, then."

"But what can you do?" Starr blurted out.
Then she realized how rude that probably sounded.

"Oh, didn't Charlie tell you? I work for the
Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. More importantly, I'm
involved in an investigation of someone who just might have
something to do with what you witnessed. So I very much want to
hear what you have to say."

When the phone rang just before lunch, Karen
answered it automatically, her mind still stuck on last night's
break-in and what to do about her daughter.

"Karen! Oh, I'm
so
glad I caught
you."

Karen nearly dropped the phone. The woman at
the other end was the last person Karen wanted to hear from. At
least today. This
week
, she amended mentally, as she tried
to get her thoughts together.

"Mrs. Norcroft. What a pleasant surprise,"
Karen said.

"I hope this is a good time." Which actually
meant this
had
to be a good time because Marge Norcroft was
one of the owners of Storm Point Lodge.

"Actually, it's perfect," Karen lied.

"Oh, good. We're going to be in the area and
have a hankering for Sunday brunch tomorrow. And then we thought
maybe we'd stay over for a day or two. Would that work, do you
think?"

Internally, Karen groaned. In the area, my
ass. They lived in Winona, which was practically at the bottom of
the state. The only way they were in the area was because they were
driving all day.

Karen summoned her perkiest smile and, lying
through her teeth, said, "Absolutely. When do you think you'll get
here?"

"Oh, probably a little after noon. Winnie
isn't a morning person, you know. And then we thought we could just
do a quick check with you on Monday and see how things are going.
Nothing official or in-depth, you know. But we haven't really
talked to you since you started, so we figured that since we'll be
there anyway, we could touch base a bit."

Karen closed her eyes. "That'd be great," she
said. "I'll get everything set for you."

"Perfect! Then we'll see you tomorrow!" With
that, Marge Norcroft hung up.

Karen slumped in her chair. Why did it have
to be
this
weekend? Why not
next
weekend when,
presumably, the sheriff would have finished whatever the hell he
was doing and everything would be back to normal. She had worked so
hard and couldn't wait to show the Norcrofts what she had
accomplished. But not
this
weekend.

Karen wanted to cry. With her luck, Starr
would do something impulsive again, the sheriff would show up
halfway through brunch, and she'd be packing to head to
who-knows-where before the Norcrofts finished eating.

Fowler finally spotted a likely looking motel
a few miles inland. It wasn't terribly convenient, but it would do.
It was, if possible, a major step down from the ridiculously named
Bide-A-Wee. The benefit was that he could get there without going
through Ruby Cove if he didn't mind a bit of a detour. Not to
mention, no one in their right mind would look for him there.

He took a table at a tacky café just down the
road and sent Viv to get a room.

Like just about everything else along the
North Shore, the café looked as if it had been around for over a
century and was in desperate need of a total makeover. The floor
was uneven, the lights were yellowed and dimmed by years of smoke
and grease, and the upholstery crackled every time he moved.

When he came in, one look at the coffee maker
had told him that a request for a latte would be met with a blank
stare. The menu the waitress handed him was suffering from age and
made him wonder about the kitchen. No surprise he was the only
person in the place, he thought as he handed the menu back.

"Just coffee," he said. He hadn't had a
chance to get breakfast and was famished, but he wasn't about to
chance the food in this place. He'd grab something later when he
could be sure whatever he ordered would be edible.

Viv slid into the booth across from him just
as the waitress came with the coffee. After the waitress left to
get another cup, he sipped cautiously, grimaced and put down the
cup.

"Everything go all right?" Fowler asked.

The waitress returned with the coffee and
poured a cup for Viv. "Anything else?" she asked, her gaze
vacant.

"We're fine, thanks," Fowler said.

"Room 107," Viv said after the waitress left.
She pushed a key across the table to him. "In back and on the
end."

He pocketed the key and then reviewed the
plan with her one more time.

After telling Fae everything, Starr pulled
out her camera. She rewound the film and handed the film canister
to Fae.

"They can process these in three hours at the
photo place in Grand Marais," Starr said. "They're slides and I'd
really like to get them back. Except for the ones of Mr. Fowler, of
course," she added quickly.

"Of course."

Starr looked at Charlie, then back at Fae.
"So now what?"

"What I should do," Fae said, "is put you
someplace where this Fowler can't get to you. If he was willing to
chance breaking into your cabin to get this film, then I doubt if
you'll be safe until we catch him." She looked at Starr. "Do you
have another place you could stay for a little while?"

Starr shook her head. She wasn't about to
tell Fae about her grandparents. Her mother would love to use this
as an excuse. Fowler would get caught or be gone before she even
got there, but it would be a long time before her mother would let
her come back. There was no way she was going to risk that.

"But now that I don't have the film or the
backpack, won't he just go away now?" Starr asked hopefully.

Fae shook her head. "He doesn't know you
don't have it. Besides, you're a witness to murder. He's not safe
as long as you're alive."

That had never occurred to Starr and her eyes
grew big as she realized what that meant.

"Hmmm. I need to make some calls. Let's see
what we can come up with."

It only took Fowler a few minutes to change
and throw a few things in an overnight bag before getting back in
the Lexus for the next part of the plan.

Viv followed him out to the car and sulkily
got in the passenger seat. He looked at her speculatively as he
started the car.

"You can leave if you want to," he reminded
her. "I'll figure some way to transfer the funds when this is over.
Of course, you won't get nearly as much, but you won't have to take
any more risks up here, either. It's your choice."

She shot him a look filled with venom. "You
know I'll stick it out. I always do."

He patted her knee. "That's why I hired you,
Viv old girl. I can always count on you to be a pro."

She turned away and looked out the
window.

Fowler grinned as he pulled onto the highway.
She didn't know it, but he knew all about her financial situation.
It was one of the things he was counting on to keep her in line. He
kept smiling as he drove, making sure his concern didn't show. Viv
was getting too skittish. If she didn't get herself together, she
could blow the entire deal. He might be able to pull something
together at the bank without her on Monday, but it would take extra
time he didn’t have. He was going to have to make sure that this
time he got the job done so they could get back to the Cities first
thing tomorrow morning.

Fae called Bailey from her office, making
sure to close the door so the girls couldn't overhear. After
filling him in, she asked him to put out an APB on the Lexus and
have someone keep an eye on Diana's house in St. Paul.

"Where is this witness now?" he asked.

"In the kitchen having lemonade with her
friend, Charlie," Fae said. "Did you want to come up?"

"I do, but there's no way I can get there
until tomorrow."

"I'm hoping we catch him tonight but, as you
said, he's slippery. If it'll make you feel better, I don't think
there was a leak. I think it's more a major case of street smarts
and intuition. Fortunately, he's made some mistakes this time. And
we have a line on his accomplice. He may have figured that out, but
there are a lot of places to hide out up here and my guess is that
he isn't too worried about it."

"You think he's over-confident?"

"Maybe a little," Fae said. "But I'm counting
on his desire to get that film more than anything. I think he'll be
sticking around at least tonight to try for it and if he does
…"

"Just remember, he has the luck of the
devil."

"Believe me," Fae said. "I will."

"Tell you what," Bailey added. "Let's plan on
breakfast at that place in Ruby Cove first thing tomorrow. Have the
sheriff there, too. What's his name? Mike something?"

"Mike Thompson."

"Right. You can bring me up to speed and we
can do a strategy session all at the same time."

"I'll call Mike and let him know."

"I'll be with the Governor most of the
evening, but you have my cell if anything comes up."

"In other words, if we nail Fowler tonight,
you want to know."

"Before anyone." He was quiet for a minute,
then asked, "By the way, what's the press situation like up
there?"

"Not much right now, thank the gods. We've
kept it under wraps so far. I'll be meeting with the sheriff in a
little bit and will make sure his office knows to keep this super
quiet."

"Will they?"

"Probably. You know those old Swedes and
Norwegians. Pretty close-mouthed when they want to be. Don't go
spilling things right and left like some of those characters down
in the Cities."