The Sleuth Sisters (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

Barb

As Faye questioned Brown about his years at Buck Lake, I glanced out the window overlooking the parking lot. A man got out of a familiar-looking white Ford and started for the motel entrance. He stopped momentarily by my car, peering into it. He might have been in town for a convention at the casino, and he could have been checking out my Chevy, but I doubted it.

“Look out there.”

They looked. “Haike’s car,” Neil said. Quickly we cleared our table and moved to the back of the dining area, out of sight of the front desk. After a few seconds Faye whispered, “I’ll go see what’s going on. If it’s our shooter, I doubt he’ll recognize me.”

She was right. Today’s outfit was flashy but not screaming like the lime green and pink from yesterday. In three minutes, she was back. “He’s gone. The clerk told him she couldn’t confirm or deny the presence of a guest.”

“He accepted that?”

“Maybe.” Faye peeped cautiously out the window. “He could wait outside until we leave and catch us on the open highway.”

“We need to call the police.”

Faye glanced at Brown, knowing what that meant. He nodded. “No more chances.”

“I’ll call,” Faye said. “Go up to the rooms, get our stuff, and check out.” Pulling out her phone, she headed outside. I guessed the call would accompany the second cigarette of the day.

I wasn’t gone ten minutes. Brown was waiting for the elevator, knapsack slung over one shoulder, and we rode down together. Faye wasn’t in the lobby. I went outside, but she wasn’t there, either. I asked the clerk, “Did you see where my sister went?”

“She went outside. Then that guy said something to her and she left with him.”

“What guy?”

“The guy that was looking for the three of you.”

I felt my chest tighten. “She left with him?”

The clerk picked up the ringing phone and held it to her chest. “That’s correct.” Putting the phone to her ear, she began the Good-morning-and-thank-you-for-calling spiel.

My cell vibrated in my jacket pocket. Checking the screen, I saw it was Faye. “Hello?”

“Ms. Evans.” The speaker’s voice was breathy, as if he was on edge.

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter. Who I’m with is more important.”

“Is my sister all right?”

“I think the term ‘fat and sassy’ works.”

“If you hurt her—”

“I have no desire to hurt her. Once I speak with Mr. Brown, we’ll see what happens.”

I turned to Brown, who watched with concern on his face. “He wants to talk to you.”

He took my phone, holding it as if it were a foreign object, which it probably was. “Hello?” After a few seconds his expression turned angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Listening again, he shook his head, frustrated. “I can’t give you something I don’t have...Don’t hurt her, she hasn’t done anything.”

I heard a change in the tone of his voice. “Okay, where shall we do this? ...No way. I’m not going back there so you can wait around in the woods and shoot me... How about a restaurant here in town?... I don’t care who sees me... Okay, okay. Somewhere out of town, then? Do you know the area at all?... That makes it more complicated.” His gaze searched the lobby and landed on a display of pamphlets near the doorway.

“How about the park at the falls? It’s easy; you just follow the signs. There won’t be a lot of people there this time of year.” Brown glanced at me, nodding toward the rack. Scanning quickly, I pulled a glossy brochure on Tahquamenon Falls from the array and turned to the map on the back. Tahquamenon, just a few miles away, showcased one of the largest waterfalls between Niagara and the Mississippi. Skipping the tourist information and pictures of rushing water turned brown by tannins, I studied the map, committing it to memory. Brown continued to argue with the caller. “I need more time. But—” He looked blankly at the phone. “He hung up.”

“What does he want?”

Suddenly we became aware of the clerk, who was leaning so far over the desk she was in danger of toppling onto the tile floor at our feet. We moved outside and out of sight of the entryway. Neil looked sick. “He says if I give him what he wants, he’ll let Mrs. Burner go.”

“What is it?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. He said it’s something Carina gave to me.”

“Did she give you anything that last day, or the day before?”

He made a gentle snort. “The day before she was so mad she wouldn’t have given me a glass of water if my hair was on fire. And after the thing with Carson, I don’t remember her giving me anything.”

“But she wasn’t angry with you after you helped her calm her brother down.”

“No.” He ran a hand over his chin, probably unused to being clean-shaven. “She was having a bad time with whatever was wrong between them.”

“She’d learned something about Carson that upset her.”

“Right. She was worried how Stan would react when he found out. At one point she said, ‘Carson, just tell the truth. He’ll forgive you.’ It sounded like she left out the word eventually.”

“Do you think that’s true? Would Wozniak have forgiven Carson anything, given time?”

Brown sighed. “For years, Carson screwed up and his dad bailed him out, but things changed about the time we got married. I think Carina was worried about Stan’s reaction.”

“You got no indication of what he’d done?”

He shrugged. “Something Stan would find hard to forgive.”

“From what I hear of Wozniak, that meant taking something that was his.”

Neil grimaced ruefully. “Yeah. I’m the guy who’d know.”

I read the meaning in his tone. “You took his little girl.”

“That’s how he saw it.”

I stared across the parking lot, trying not to think about what might be happening to my sister. We had to figure out what her captor wanted. “Could Wozniak be behind this?”

“What do you mean?”

“He hates being cheated out of what’s his, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Suppose he found out Carson had cheated him. Could he have killed him in a rage?”

“Maybe by accident, if things got really hot. But what about Carina?”

“What if she tried to stop him and he struck her without knowing what he was doing?”

Neil shook his head. “Much as I’d like to give you a good substitute for me as Suspect Number One, I can’t see Stan losing control like that. Not with his kids.”

My mind returned to Faye, in peril and probably terrified. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re supposed to trade this item for my sister at the falls.”

Brown nodded. “I said I’d meet him on the trail, past the first viewpoint.”

“Do you think we could pass something off as the item and get her back?”

“I don’t even know what the thing he’s after looks like.” He raised his hands, palms up. “I tried to get him to give me a hint, but he was sure I knew what he wanted.”

“And you have no idea.”

“None.” He tried a weak joke. “I should have asked if it was bigger than a breadbox.”

I gave him a “not funny” glance then watched the traffic on the highway for a few seconds. “We’ll have to fake it. How much time do we have?”

“Till two.” I looked at my watch: a little more than four hours.

“Should we call the police?”

Neil shifted his feet. “I vote no. First, the only thing keeping Mrs. Burner alive is this guy’s belief we’re under his control. If the police show up, he might kill her and run.”

“But police know how to deal with kidnappers.”

He gestured at our distinctly rural surroundings. “Up here in the middle of nowhere? I doubt it. The locals are likely to be so excited about getting to arrest me that anything else we try to tell them will get lost.”

I had to agree. Brown was supposedly a double murderer, and no police officer I’d met thus far had found reason to doubt his guilt. I was someone they didn’t know, a middle-aged woman claiming to be a private investigator. Would the police put off arresting one of Michigan’s most sought-after fugitives on my word alone? I’d always thought of the police as friends, but I had to rethink that in this instance.

“If we don’t call for help, what do you suggest?”

“Not sure.” He scratched his head. “If I knew what he wants, he could have it.”

That seemed to be the place to start unraveling the problem. “Okay. Think carefully about that last day. Did Carina give you anything at all?” As he opened his mouth to repeat his earlier negative, I put up a cautioning hand. “Think. Not something she said was important. Maybe not anything that seemed related to what was going on. Just something.”

Seeing my purpose, Brown closed his eyes, letting himself go over the events of that day. Several moments passed before he spoke. “Ultrasound pictures of our baby.”

“Pictures?”

“Not actual pictures. They were on a flash drive. As I was leaving, she stuck it in my jacket pocket, said something about the latest baby pictures. I almost gave it back, since I didn’t have a computer at my rental. I figured she’d get mad if I mentioned it, so I said okay and left.”

“Did you look at the pictures?”

“Never got the chance.”

“Do you have the flash drive?”

He thought about it. “I kept it in my pocket for a long time. It reminded me of her and the baby we would have had—.” His voice softened as he remembered the baby had actually come into the world. He tried her name on his tongue. “Brooke.”

“Where is the drive now?”

He twitched his shoulders, shaking off the past. “When I moved into Haike’s lodge, I set it on a rafter that runs over the doorway. You wouldn’t notice it, but it’s there.”

“Neil, that might be what this guy is looking for.”

“Why?”

“It has something on it Carina wanted you to hold for her.”

The light dawned. “Whatever she had on her brother.”

“It might have been her insurance that he’d do as he promised.”

His face lit as he figured it out. “If I had the evidence, he couldn’t change his mind.”

“It has to be what the kidnapper wants.” I considered the possibilities for a few seconds. “Take my vehicle, go back to the cabin, get the flash, and bring it to the park. I’ll rent a car and go there so I can scout the territory a little. We need to avoid surprises.”

Brown looked at me doubtfully. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved in this. I can go alone. I’ll get Mrs. Burner back somehow, but both of you shouldn’t be in danger.”

Gesturing at a rack of gift items just inside the motel door I said, “I’ll buy some tacky clothes and carry a camera, like a tourist. You need someone to watch your back, and if I get out there, I can make sure there’s just the one guy.” He still looked unwilling, but I gave him what I hoped was a confident smile. “Just get that drive and return as fast as you can.”

“Okay.” He grinned, and I saw a hint of the brother Meri Brown was so fond of. “I don’t have a current license to drive, but it hasn’t been an issue in the last six years.”

As I handed over the car keys, I struggled with doubts. Once the kidnapper got the drive, he might try to kill all of us. Did I have the right to put Neil in danger in order to get my sister back? Should I call the local police and report a possible crime at Tahquamenon Falls?

In the end I decided Neil was right. The police were likely to scare the guy away, with deadly results for Faye. There’d be rangers on duty at Tahquammenon, and while they weren’t trained cops, they’d come running if our bad guy started shooting.

“Mr. Brown?” I said as he turned to go. “Bring a gun back with you, a pistol, if you’ve got one. I don’t have much experience with deer rifles.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Retta

I called Dale the morning after my visit to WOZ Industries. My sisters were still away, but I got him to admit they were in the U.P. He insisted he didn’t know their exact location, and I thought he was mostly telling the truth. I tried calling them, but Barbara Ann seldom answers her cell if she knows it’s me, and Faye always shuts hers down to save on the battery, no matter how many times I tell her it’s silly to have a phone that doesn’t connect.

When I thanked Dale and hung up, I was feeling like a little kid again. I wrote down everything I’d learned so far in an email and sent it to Faye, hoping she’d see I was contributing. Even then, it didn’t feel like I’d done enough to really impress them.

What else was there? I’d spoken with Stanley and visited his employees. I didn’t dare go back to Susie with more questions, though she knew more than she admitted. Who else might know something about the old case?

When I can’t decide what to do, it helps to get out of my empty house and go mobile. I changed my clothes, put on a little makeup, and went into town, planning nothing in particular. When it seemed my only option was a touch-up to my nails, I saw our new police chief exit the city building. A double possibility! Not only might he have information on the Wozniak case, he was really cute. I parked—almost abandoned—my car and hurried over to his.

“Chief Neuencamp?”

“Yes.” His back was to me, and his tone was merely polite until he turned. I can’t help it. I love that change that occurs somewhere behind the eyes when a man appreciates me as a woman. Subtle things happen: pot bellies recede a little, shoulders straighten, and eyes drop. The time it takes for his gaze to return to her face lets a woman know what kind of man she’s facing.

This one got back to business quickly. “What can I do for you, Mrs., uh, ma’am?”

Now, I might have overlooked his forgetting my name after just one meeting, but ma’am is not my favorite term of address. The first time a clerk used it on me, I almost left the store. When did I stop being
Miss?
Though Barbara disagrees, I prefer
Honey
or
Sweetie
to
Ma’am
, which sounds
old
! With my best forgiving smile, I prompted, “I’m Margaretta Stilson.”

“Oh, yeah. After our, um, meeting, I got to thinking. Are you related to—”

I stepped in to speed things up. “My late husband.”

“That was a terrible thing, his getting shot.” I lowered my lashes, but his keys jingled in his hand. He was trying to be polite, but he wanted me to state my business.

“If you’re on your way to lunch, may I join you? There are things I’d like to discuss.”

Was it a woman asking a strange man to have lunch with her that surprised him, or the fact that I had an agenda? After the slightest pause he said, “If you don’t mind driving your own car. I’m due at the County Commission meeting at one. Is Barney’s all right with you?”

Barney’s was on the lowbrow end of Allport’s dining choices, but there was nothing wrong with the food. I guessed its utilitarian aspect would minimize gossip about the new chief dining with an attractive widow. At least as much as gossip in a small town is ever minimized.

When I arrived a few minutes behind him, the chief rose gallantly and held my chair. It’s a charming custom, but my theory is it’s designed to give a man a good, long look at a woman’s backside. Not that Neuencamp seemed that type, but you never know.

Once he sat down again, a waitress brought us menus. I asked for iced tea; he ordered a Coke. She recommended the special, and I listened, because whatever Barney says is special on a given day usually is. Today it was a panini, however. Too messy for a first-time meal with a man. I chose a salad, and the chief ordered the French dip. With fries. He must have a great metabolism to stay trim at his age with all that fat and calories.

“What’s on your mind, Ms. Stilson?” he asked when the waitress had retreated, menus under one arm and gum cracking at full power.

So he wasn’t much for small talk. “I mentioned my sisters, Chief. May I call you Rory?”

“Of course.”

“I’m Retta. As I told you, they run a detective agency here in town.” Pressing my lips together as a little rebellious streak rose I said, “I sometimes help with their cases.”

He took the straw out of his drink, set it aside, and took a long swallow. “I met Barb.”

“Really?” Ms. Hermit already knew the new man in town?

“A couple of times now.” I couldn’t tell what he thought of her, but it was probably negative. Barbara Ann comes off as cold, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I hoped she hadn’t alienated the new chief already. Making no excuses for her, I forged ahead.

“We’re looking into a cold case. I arranged help from the state police detective who was lead on it, and Faye spoke with Tom Stevens, but I wonder if there might be something in the old chief’s files that could help. I mean, Kowaleski probably kept his own notes, right?”

“Most of us do.” Neither of us mentioned the sad fact that the old chief’s stuff was probably still in the office. There’d been no one to give it to when he died.

The waitress set down a little tub of coleslaw for Rory and a breadstick for me. The one thing that separates Barney’s from other diners is the breadstick. Although I’m sure they go directly to my hips, I cannot resist them. I tore the warm, buttery thing in half and took a bite.

“If I stop by after your meeting, do you think I could get a look at those notes?”

His eyes crinkled briefly. “Tell you what. I’ll review them tonight. Tomorrow I’ll share what I think can be shared.” His hands spread in a gesture that said it was the best he would do.

I know men, know when there’s one I can’t charm into bending his principles—at least not so early in a relationship. “That’s very kind of you.” Taking up the rest of my breadstick, I asked, “How did you come to northern Michigan from Chicago?”

The rest of the lunch was pleasant. Rory was certainly attractive, and he revealed polite interest in me without stooping to condescension, flattery, or drooling. He was the type a woman of mature age doesn’t often meet in a small town, and I left feeling good about the future.

I was slightly disappointed that I had to wait until morning to learn what was in Kowaleski’s notes. The upside to the matter, of course, would be visiting Rory again to find out.

There was lots of day left, so I searched my brain for a person with an inside view of the Wozniak family dynamic at the time of the murders. The police hadn’t uncovered a suspect other than Neil Brown, but honestly, they hadn’t looked very hard. Someone had to know what Carina really thought of her husband. I just had to figure out who that someone was.