The Sleuth Sisters (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

Barb

As soon as Brown left, I asked at the motel desk about car rental. As the clerk began the process of finding me a vehicle, I tried on a hat from the souvenir rack that said
I love DA
U.P.
Pairing that with a sweatshirt picturing the Falls, I added one of those disposable cameras as a prop.

When the rental car was delivered to the hotel, I headed to Tahquamenon, looking like Clark Griswold’s mother. The area was waking up to spring. I passed beautiful chalets and rustic lodges where visitors to the falls could stay, play, and, of course, gamble. The U.P. has plenty of casinos. Apparently, love of nature and lucky numbers go hand-in-hand.

Though the roadside was dotted with clumps of green, pine and cedar, the maple, beech and oak trees were just sprouting leaves. Without nature’s cover, I also saw the faded hopes and dreams of a multitude of property owners: failed motels, aging cabins, and boarded businesses. FOR SALE signs hung from mailbox posts, fences, and trees. Michigan’s tough economy had turned second homes and summer businesses into luxuries many could no longer afford.

At the entrance to Tahquamenon State Park, I paid the entry fee and proceeded, noting the unexpected presence of a microbrewery on park property.
Unusual in a state park
, I thought as I turned left and parked. My vehicle had the lot all to itself, and the sound of my door slamming echoed in the silence. A pickup truck sat next to the restroom building, and lights shone inside. At least I wasn’t totally alone.

Following the signs, I made my way to the main trail, which led to a cross-trail where more signs informed me that the Upper Falls were to the right, the Lower Falls to the left. We hadn’t thought of that. How preposterous would it be if we missed getting my sister back because we went in the opposite direction the kidnapper did!

After a short trek to the left I came to a wooden staircase that descended to the rushing water. Turning, I went back and followed the trail to the Lower Falls. The rushing water made a constant roar, and I glimpsed its swirling movement between the trees. A sturdy wood fence kept visitors on the trail and away from the abrupt drop-off.

Not far along the path I came to a second set of steps that led to a different viewing area. It was ninety-four steps down, according to the sign. A boast or a warning?

Leaning over the banister, I surveyed the view below. A boxed overhang at the waterline provided a perfect photo op for tourists, the falls at one side and the forest across the river a charming backdrop. I was briefly mesmerized by the sheer power of the rushing, churning water. It was hard to tear my gaze away, but I wasn’t here to appreciate nature’s power.

What I wanted was a place to hide so I could cover Brown while he exchanged the flash drive for my sister. After exploring the trail from all directions, I chose a likely spot where I could follow, whichever way they went. If Neil brought me a gun, I’d be close enough to shoot the kidnapper if necessary. Could I actually do it? Yes, if it meant my sister’s life.

Hoping I had an advantage now that I knew the terrain, I started back to the parking lot. There was a lot to worry about, and I’m good at it. Was Faye all right, or had the man killed her and thrown her body into the deep Michigan woods? Would Neil return, having a vehicle and a head start? And even if those two questions were answered my way, did I have time to get the gun from Neil and get to my chosen hiding spot before the kidnapper arrived?

As I left the trees, I saw that it was too late. Next to my car sat a dirty white Ford. My heart sank. I didn’t have the gun; I didn’t have Neil’s help; I didn’t have the flash drive. I had no way to bargain for my sister’s life.

As I came closer, however, the lone figure leaning against the car became clearer, and my shoulders relaxed. It was Faye, smoking a cigarette and looking very grumpy.

“Faye!” I hurried forward as she stubbed the butt against the sole of her shoe.

“Hi.”

I am not a frequent hugger, but I embraced her, biting my lip to control the tears of relief that threatened. “How did you get away?”

She pulled away and faced me, one eyebrow raised in comic disgust. “It was only one guy, Barb, and not a very smart one at that.” I pulled out a tissue and wiped my nose, running from relief this time, not from allergies. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll introduce you.”

She took keys from her pocket, checked the area for onlookers, and, seeing none, opened the trunk. A head popped up. At a nod from Faye, the occupant clambered out, an embarrassed grin on his face. I stared in disbelief as he brushed dust from his jeans, settled his clothes into place, and pushed back straight blond hair that fell back over his eyes as soon as it was released.

“Barb, meet Gabe.”

“Are you the one who shot at us?”

“No.” His tone was definite. “You gotta understand. I had no idea he’d start shooting.”

Faye regarded him as if he were a carpet stain. “Apparently Gabe has a partner.”

The little man made an objection-like noise, but she glared him down. “Gabe had an associate who fired at us. He thinks the guy has since returned to Allport.”

“He left me!” Gabe’s tone was outraged, as if he thought we’d commiserate.

“Left you?”

“Yeah, the chicken-sh—”

“Tell her what you’re doing up here.” Faye’s tone revealed irritation. Gabe nodded obediently.

“We was hired to follow you ladies and see if you found that Brown guy. We was supposed to get a certain piece of property back that he stole from our employer. I thought it was cool when you found him, but then, Z—my associate—pulls out a gun and starts blastin’ away.”

He paused to let me absorb that much, clicking his tongue in disgust. “I almost sh—I mean, I was real scared when you guys fired back. I’m non-violent, y’know?” He actually raised two fingers in a sign of peace not often seen since the ’60s. “It was s’pose to be a simple job. Find Brown; take our employer’s property back; get paid.”

“So what went wrong?”

Gabe looked to Faye, didn’t like what he saw, and turned back to me. For once, I was the more sympathetic listener, perhaps because I wasn’t the one who’d been kidnapped. Actually, Gabe reminded me of a succession of low-level, low-wattage but not necessarily evil criminals I’d dealt with over the years. They don’t mean to be mean, and they spill their guts within minutes of being caught.

“We was supposed to wait until you two left then go after Brown and get the thing-y.”

Faye took a drag on her cigarette. “Apparently the mysterious Z is not so non-violent as Gabe here. Must have thought putting a few rounds through the cabin would send us running.”

“He got nervous,” Gabe defended his associate’s action. “You ladies stayed in there a long time. He had to do something.”

“Associate Z did not expect return fire,” Faye rubbed her chin lightly, perhaps to banish a smile. “Apparently, he panicked and ran—
drove away
, rather, leaving Gabe behind.”

“He shoulda stayed. I mean, we weren’t gonna get paid if we didn’t come back with the thing-y.” Gabe stuck out a hand, turning it palm up in a gesture that implied his next move was obvious. “I figure Z’s out of the picture, so the money’s all mine if I get what we came for.”

“So you kidnapped my sister.”

Gabe looked at the pavement. “I wouldna hurt her. I needed something to trade, is all.”

“And the object of all this? The thing-y you were supposed to get?”

“It’s a flash drive.” Gabe didn’t seem sure what that was. “Our guy wants it back.”

“And who is this guy?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I say I know him, I don’t mean I really
know
him. He’s somebody Z knows.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Uh, no.”

“Can you describe him?”

Gabe looked nervous. “I only talked to him on the phone, but Zack said he was cool.”

“So some guy feeds you this story and you believe it? You follow two innocent women to the U.P., shoot up a cabin, and kidnap one of them, all on the word of a voice on the phone?”

“The guy killed his wife, didn’t he? Besides, the dude gave us each five hundred up front and promised five hundred more when we brought back the thing-y.”

“I see. A thousand bucks buys a lot of credulity.”

“Huh?”

“Does your employer know you decided to try kidnapping?”

Gabe chewed at a fingernail. “Uh, yeah. He wasn’t thrilled to hear it.”

“But if you get the flash drive, it will be okay?”

“Yeah.” He pointed at Faye, almost accusingly. “She walked right into it. I mean, she comes outside to smoke. There’s nobody around. I had to take a chance or lose the money.”

“He threw my phone into a ditch after he called you.” Faye glared at Gabe as she added, “I
hate
getting used to a new phone.”

“I’m
sorry
.” He sounded sincere, as if telephonic interruption topped kidnapping.

I got back to business. “Your employer expects you to return to Allport with this drive.”

“I would have, too, except she attacked me.” Faye clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes skyward. “She hit me with her purse.” He sounded like a kid tattling on a playmate, but he was right. Faye’s purse should be registered as a lethal weapon.

“You set the pathetic jackknife you waved at me on the seat,” Faye said coolly. “In that situation I’m supposed to be afraid of a guy who weighs a third less than I do?”

I hid a smile, picturing her turning on the pipsqueak. Though I’d never seen her tough side, I’d guessed there was one. Women who raise teenage boys develop a certain fearlessness.

Faye rolled her neck side to side. “Genius here has the impression there’s something valuable on this flash drive, industrial secrets, maybe. I think he’s told us all he knows.”

“Yeah. He wants it back real bad. Your guy stole it, so I was justicated in using force.”

“
Justified
, and no, you weren’t. You shot at us.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me.” He shivered at the memory. “I couldn’t believe he did that.”

“So what did you do after your associate ran away like the coward he is?”

“Besides calling him every bad name I could think of?” He looked from Faye to me, but neither of us reacted to his attempt at humor. “I stayed down and quiet. When you all piled into the Chevy and left, I searched the cabin.” He shrugged. “Didn’t find it.”

“You thought we’d run and not take this valuable flash drive with us?” I asked.

Gabe shrugged again. Apparently he was good at it. “I guess so.”

Faye raised her brows. “Gabe operates on the premise that everyone in the world thinks exactly as he does.”

After wiping his nose on a knuckle, he said, “There was this old car with the keys in it, and I figured I’d see if I could find you. I mean what’s north except Paradise? I had to drive around town for a long time, but then I saw your car at the motel.”

“Should have hidden it,” I muttered, and Gabe nodded, acknowledging my mistake.

“How many ’57 Chevys does a guy see in a day? I hung around, thinking I could make things right with the boss.” Jabbing a finger at Faye, he said, “She comes outside, and I decide to be a entrepreneur.” He was proud of the four-syllable word, though he said “ahn ter PEN yur.” Resentment returned as he added, “Who knew I had a couple over-the-hill Charlie’s Angels?”

“What do we do with him?” I asked Faye.

She appeared to want to smack him but said instead, “We take him back to Allport.”

I pulled her aside, whispering, “Faye, that’s kidnapping.”

“He kidnapped me first!”

“That doesn’t justify us doing the same thing.”

“You mean ‘justicate’ it?” She sighed. “You’re probably right.”

I eyed Gabe, who gave no sign of thinking about an escape. If we had him arrested here, we’d lose track of him, and the local police would take Neil into custody as well.

“Tell you what. I’ll do my lawyer bit on him. If he doesn’t agree to come back with us and tell his story, we’ll risk the kidnapping charge.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Retta

Yet another call to Dale revealed that Barbara and Faye had run into something and had to stay in the U.P. a while longer. He sounded a little fuzzy on the details, but that might have been because she’d told him not to give me any.

The clock at the bank read one-fifteen when I ended the call. I ran through a mental list of people who might have known Carina Wozniak Brown well enough to provide hints to her personality. One good prospect came to mind: the beauty salon. When you spend hours with a person on a regular basis, grateful for their ministrations and lulled by the pampering you receive, it’s easy to let secrets slip out. I didn’t know who Carina’s stylist had been, but my own stylist would. It was time to touch up my nails after all.

The Hair Place had expanded its offerings a few years back. Patsy, the owner, took out one of the chairs, reduced her staff by one, and hired a Vietnamese woman who performs magic on fingers and toes. I had to wait, having no appointment, but that was all to the good, because as I chatted with Patsy, apparently aimlessly, I found out what I wanted to know.

“She didn’t get her hair done here,” she told me, raising brows as thin as copper wire. “Drove all the way to Dorville, to some foreigner.” Patsy glanced at Mei, the manicurist, who made no sign she’d heard. It always appeared Mei’s English wasn’t good, though there were times when I suspected she understood everything. It was probably better to pretend ignorance around Patsy, to whom the only real American is one who shares her religion, her skin tone, her views on NASCAR, and her fanatical devotion to Toby Keith.

I don’t agree with her views, of course, but it’s never a good idea to upset a competent stylist once you’ve found one.

It was just after two when I left the salon. An hour to Dorville. I could easily find the shop before closing. I hoped the unknown French woman took walk-ins.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Barb

The battle of wits with Gabe wasn’t much of a challenge. Within three minutes he’d agreed to go back to Allport with us and tell his story. Though I made it clear he’d face charges, I offered to leave out the kidnapping part. He was almost pathetically grateful.

Brown arrived, having found the flash drive and hurried back to rescue Faye. He was as surprised as I’d been to find her unharmed, in fact, triumphant. Once all was explained again, we discussed how to proceed. Duty demanded we take Brown to Allport, but I didn’t know how to tell him that, or Faye either, for that matter. He was a step ahead of me.

“I’ve got to go back,” he said. “Maybe this thing has something on it that will clear me.”

“You should take a look before we go,” Faye said, and I agreed. We had to know.

We had no device with us capable of reading a flash drive, so we went in search of the nearest library. While Faye chaperoned Gabe, Brown and I entered and asked to use a computer. After listening to the library rules for use, showing I.D., and signing a form promising not to visit porn sites or engage in internet gambling, we were shown to an aged PC.

I inserted the flash into the machine and listened as it engaged with a soft whirr. There were several files on the drive, some .exe and others .doc. Ignoring the former, I hovered over the names of the four .doc files. Each had last been accessed the day before Carson and Carina Wozniak were murdered.

Starting with the topmost one,
Fishing
, I clicked to open the file. It contained links to various sites, and I looked to Neil for an explanation. “Stan’s only hobby.” Pointing at one link, he said, “I think that’s the place he was planning to try that year at Christmas time.” Indicating another link he said, “And that’s where he went the year before.”

“So these are probably Wozniak’s files. Any idea why your wife had them on her flash?”

He frowned at the drive sticking out of the USB port, the WOZ Industries logo imprinted on its casing. “Carina had a drive like this, but hers just had pictures on it.”

I thought about Carina’s house guest. “Did Carson have one?”

“Stan might have given him one. He bought them by the gross.”

“And they all looked exactly alike?”

He nodded. “You get a discount that way.”

Closing that file, I went to the next,
Pierce
. It contained information about the lake where Stan’s house was located: depths, dimensions, and other specifics. Looking again to Neil, I got a shrug. We saw nothing interesting, though it added to my belief these were Wozniak’s files.

The next one was labeled
Water Bills, 2002
. I clicked on it and got a list consisting of four lines. Each began with initials: AM, MT, CI, and NYCT, followed by dollar amounts and notations,
UsageQ1
,
UsageQ2
, and so on. I guessed that
Q
stood for quarter.

“Does this mean anything to you?”

“Nope.”

The last file was named
Cinfo
. When I opened it, I saw a list titled
Carson’s Investments
. There were eight listings, each describing a project Carson had proposed, the amount he’d been given, and the results in dollars. All of the final amounts were negative. I pictured Stan printing the list off and waving it in front of his son’s face while he promised there’d be no more money.

After I closed the file, Neil and I stared at the screen for a while, contemplating the titles of the files we’d just examined. None of them gave me a clue as to what had happened. None of them contained information worth stealing or killing for, as far as I could tell. Pocketing the drive, I said, “It would have been nice to find something simple. I guess we’d better go.”

He seemed reluctant to leave, probably disappointed the flash contained nothing that proved his innocence. Even if he was eventually cleared of murder charges, he had a lot to face between now and then. And if he wasn’t cleared, he was on his way to prison, probably for life. I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “If you’re innocent, Mr. Brown, we’ll prove it. Faye wants Brooke to get her daddy back.” He smiled grimly, compliant but not convinced.

We left the library and rejoined Faye and her captive, who was wheedling unsuccessfully for a soda and some Cheetos.

Taking Faye aside, I told her what we’d seen on the flash drive. “What would Wozniak’s reaction have been if he learned someone stole some files from his home computer?”

“If it was Neil, he’d have had him arrested.”

“What if Carina or Carson did it?”

“Why would they?”

I wasn’t sure, but I was convinced one of Stan’s children had put those files on the flash. Either had plenty of opportunity and would have known Stan’s habits. “I don’t know about the son, but Carina had given her husband an ultimatum, and he moved out rather than bow to Stan’s wishes. Maybe she thought if they had money, she could have Neil and the life she wanted.”

“Then why the murders?”

“Maybe one of them found out what the other was doing. That could have led to the fight Neil interrupted. And maybe after he left, it started up again.”

“That would explain one death, but not two,” Faye argued.

“You’re right.” I sighed. “At least the long drive will give us time to think it through.”

We decided Brown, Faye, and Gabe would take Brown’s car back to Allport while I drove my own. Gabe had a cell phone, as did I, so we could communicate if we got separated. Faye would drive and Brown would, ironically, guard the prisoner lest he decide to bolt. Hitting the “Go home” button on my GPS, I followed its flat-voiced commands, checking the mirror often to assure that Faye was safe in the driver’s seat of the other car.