Dead Madonna Read online

  “More!” said Carrie, eager to deliver good news for a change. “Golly, Mrs. Kurlander, I know days she worked ten, twelve hours. Partly ‘cause she would drive to the locations to make sure everything got set up right.”

  Lew checked her watch. “Doc,” she said, “it’s not quite four thirty. I’m scheduled to meet with the Moriartys and their lawyer at six. If I have Marlene call the Chamber and ask those folks to stay a few minutes, would you mind stopping by and asking them a few questions?”

  “Fine with me,” said Osborne. “It’s obvious I have to change any plans I had for later this evening, so please, Chief, use me where you can.” He gave her a regretful grin as he spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” said Lew, her apologetic glance acknowledging his reference to their aborted plan to spend the evening in a trout stream. She reached for her cell phone, saying, “I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Nora Loomis’s son yet and Marlene’s logged two calls from him, poor man. Girls, anyone in particular at the Chamber that Dr. Osborne should contact? Who was her immediate boss?”

  “Anita Rasmussen,” said Juliana, “but maybe that Mr. Curry, too. He thought she was doing great work. He said he’d write her a recommendation for school if she needed it.”

  “Yeah, you better talk to him all right,” said Carrie. “He was starting to hang on DeeDee. I found him sitting in his car watching our house one night last week—”

  “Carrie! You know he had files for DeeDee. He wasn’t lurking,” said Juliana. “Just because you didn’t like him doesn’t mean anything.” Carrie shrugged, her lips tight.

  “Good,” said Lew as she reached Marlene and left the two names along with the instruction to call back only if the Chamber people couldn’t see Osborne.

  “Something else,” said Carrie, after Lew had completed her call. She shot a defiant glare at Juliana, then glanced around to be sure everyone was listening, “Mr. Curry paid her a very nice bonus.”

  “What do you mean by ‘very nice’?” said Marcy, turning on the girl. “Are you implying that DeeDee was—”

  “Oh, gosh no,” said Carrie. “It was a real bonus. Ask Mr. Curry. He told her his job fairs had never had such terrific turnouts. But, jeez, an envelope with two hundred dollars in it? DeeDee was pretty taken aback.”

  “That is a nice bonus,” said Lew. “A very nice bonus.”

  “Ye-e-a-h,” said Carrie, “but DeeDee wanted to give it back. That’s what she told me, anyway.”

  “Did she give it back?” said Lew.

  “I dunno,” said Carrie.

  “I’m sure she did,” said Juliana.

  “So she was working for the Chamber and for Mr. Curry?” said Lew. “Did she have two jobs?”

  “No, no,” said Juliana with a shake of her head. “Carrie is confusing you. The Chamber offers new businesses in town the services of their liaison team for a limited time. Mr. Curry was planning to hold six job fairs in the region and DeeDee was assigned to help with three—one in Rhinelander, one in Loon Lake and the last one was this past week in Minocqua.”

  “Speaking of Minocqua,” said Lew, “how well do you girls know Robert Moriarty?”

  Quizzical expressions crossed both girls’ faces, then Carrie said, “Oh! You mean Robbie? I’ve never heard him called Robert.” She giggled. “Robert? That’s funny. I can’t imagine him as a ‘Robert.’ Sounds so serious.”

  “So you know him well?”

  “Oh sure, we party with Robbie all the time. Like I said earlier—we were all on his boat last night. DeeDee, too, of course.”

  “Right—,” said Lew. “So tell me more about Robbie. Were he and DeeDee a couple?” The girls looked stymied. Neither one spoke.

  Osborne decided to change the subject. “So you said that the last you saw your friend was around eleven last night in the parking lot at the public landing on Moccasin Lake Road.”

  “That’s right,” said Carrie. “But that was after we left Robbie’s boat—and the party.”

  “And where was the boat at that time?”

  “Where it always is—the north end of Party Cove just past the public landing. Is … is that the boat where …?” Carrie’s eyes widened with disbelief.

  “Yes,” said Lew, “only not at that location. Robbie said his boat drifted up the channel by mistake. Were you aware of the boat drifting when you were on board?”

  “No,” said Carrie. “Except for when they brought us back to the landing, it was definitely anchored.”

  “Are you saying Robbie didn’t mention that DeeDee was at the party?” said Juliana, her surprise genuine.

  “He hasn’t had an opportunity,” said Lew. “His father insists their lawyer be present when his son is questioned. Carrie, why don’t you fill us in on exactly where you and DeeDee were last night—the entire evening, not just the last time you saw her.”

  Carrie plucked at something on the knee of her close-fitting jeans. “Oh … well, yeah, Robbie had a big party last night and we were all there. DeeDee went straight from work ‘cause she worked late, so she was already on the boat when I got there.”

  “Was this one of your beer pong parties?” said Osborne.

  “Oh, no, just friends—it was Robbie’s birthday. He invited a bunch of us. And then …” Carrie paused, concern in her eyes as she struggled to recall the events the night before. Osborne wondered if she had had so much to drink that she couldn’t remember clearly.

  “Juliana, I take it you were there?” said Osborne.

  “Yes, but I stayed on board when Carrie left with Jeremy and DeeDee.”

  “Yeah, then this weird thing happened,” said Carrie. “Well, no, maybe it wasn’t weird—forget what I just said.” “Wait a minute. Carrie, if you’re holding back for my sake,” said Marcy, “don’t! Chief Ferris needs to know everything, anything. Me, too.” Marcy put an affectionate hand on Carrie’s knee. “I promise I am not going to be angry with you … please.”

  “It’s not that,” said Carrie. “It’s just … I’m trying to figure this out …”

  “Let Dr. Osborne and me figure it out,” said Lew. “You give us the details and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Here’s the thing—it was weird that DeeDee left us the way she did. See, we ran out of beer so me, DeeDee and Jeremy decided to drive to the filling station up on Highway 47 for another case. But when we got to the landing, DeeDee changed her mind and said she would wait for us in her car because she had to make a phone call.

  “We were gone maybe fifteen minutes at the most and when we got back she wasn’t there. Her car was but she wasn’t. I figured she was back on the boat, but I realize now she wasn’t. Thing is,” said Carrie, a stricken look on her face, “I didn’t pay attention, not even when we were back on the boat. I just assumed she was hanging out with somebody.”

  “Because why?” said Lew. “You were otherwise engaged?” Carrie turned red.

  “Kinda.”

  “What kind of phone call?” said Marcy, oblivious to Carrie’s embarrassment. “She had a cell phone, why wouldn’t she have stayed with you and made that call?”

  Carrie’s eyes darted to Juliana, then away. “I dunno. I just assumed it was a private call.”

  “Do you know who she was calling?” said Lew.

  “No,” said Carrie. She answered so quickly Osborne knew she was lying.

  “Well, enough for now,” said Lew, standing up. “Marcy, I will be in touch with you as soon as the pathologist has completed the autopsy. If you’re making arrangements.” Lew beckoned the woman into the corner of the living room where she spoke in a low whisper. Osborne heard enough to know she was advising against an open casket.

  Marcy nodded, brushed away some tears, then struggled to speak. “So … we don’t have any leads yet on who …”

  “We may not for a while,” said Lew, her voice gentle.

  “Marcy,” said Osborne, getting up to join the two older women, “I don’t know if it helps to know this—but my preliminary
exam indicated your daughter lost consciousness immediately.”

  Marcy inhaled deeply. “I hope so. But I will want to know … how … you know?”

  “Of course you will,” said Lew, patting her shoulder as they walked towards the doorway. “Oh, and Marcy, I’ll let you know when the team from the crime lab has finished with DeeDee’s car. They’re hoping to find trace evidence there that could give us a good lead. So I have no idea how soon they’ll be releasing it.”

  “That’s okay,” said Marcy, “I understand.”

  CHAPTER 11

  After walking Marcy to her car and watching as she drove off, Lew turned to Osborne, “Poor woman. I know how she feels. You go home, you sit down, you look around, you feel absolutely cold inside and all you can think is: my child is dead. And if you’re like me—unkind—you think: Why my child? Why not the meth addict kid of that worthless piece of shit down the road?”

  “That’s unkind?” said Osborne. “Sounds like an honest reaction to me—maybe the only way to deal with life’s unfairness. I wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking that way.” He paused, expecting Lew to walk over to the police cruiser. But she stayed where she was, checking back through her notes. Anxious to get over to the offices where DeeDee had worked, he said, “Lew, ready to head out?”

  “In a minute, Doc. I asked Juliana to step outside—alone. Would you mind waiting with me? Marlene would have called if you had to rush over to the Chamber. Oh, and sorry about the fishing, I was looking forward to it.”

  They lingered on the sidewalk outside the girls’ house, the late afternoon sun hot on their shoulders. Osborne checked his watch. “Too warm for trout tonight anyhow, Lew. Don’t feel bad.”

  “I could use the break, Doc. Let’s see how it goes tomorrow. We’re never in the river before eight anyway. It’s just that tonight I have paperwork up the wazoo. And I have got to take time with the Loomis family.”

  “Nora’s son, Russell, was a patient of mine all through high school,” said Osborne. “Would he be offended if you had me talk to him after I meet with the Chamber staff?”

  “That’s a thought,” said Lew. “I’ll try to give him a call before I meet with the Moriartys. Marlene said he’s driving in from Eau Claire late today. If he doesn’t mind, that works for me. I’ll leave a message with Marlene—and, Doc, you have to get yourself a cell phone. This is ridiculous.”

  “Lewellyn, I cannot get cell service at the house. Even Mallory’s reception is spotty, and she has Sprint.”

  “Dr. Osborne, are we standing in front of your house?”

  “No.”

  “Well then.”

  “Okay, I’ll look into it but—” He was interrupted by the ringing of Lew’s cell phone. With a wink, she pulled it from its case.

  “It’s Ray,” she said, seeing the number in the digital display.

  Ray was already on the job, having gotten a call from Lew shortly after capping off Cody and Mason’s shore lunch with ice cream bars. Half an hour after that Lew was able to clear the one hazard she always faced when attempting to deputize the keenest eyes in the northwoods: a misdemeanor file that reflected a hankering for controlled substances and a dedication to fishing private water. It was the poaching that got the game wardens most upset. But Lew had her ways—not to mention an abiding affection for Ray that she did her best to hide.

  While still at the site where they had landed the Moriarty boat and pulled the victim onto the bank of the channel, she had asked Pete not to leave until she could reach the Wausau Crime Lab to request more help—a request that was granted the minute Bert’s name was mentioned. Apparently, his lawyer had already been on the line demanding an expert investigation versus “any of those Loon Lake bozos.” That was just fine with Lewellyn Ferris.

  However, still needing someone to guard the site and DeeDee’s body, her next call was to Pete’s supervisor, Ken Deitz, in the Department of Natural Resources offices. She got him on the first try. After listening to her request that he allow the game warden to guard the area and the corpse until the Wausau boys arrived, Ken had paused then said, “Sure, but on one condition, Chief—you gotta tell me where you caught that big brown you’re holding in that photo on the bulletin board at Ralph’s Sporting Goods.”

  “Come o-o-n, Ken,” Lew said, “you are way out of line asking me that.” Then, as if the entire Wisconsin Fly-Fishing listserv was eavesdropping, she lowered her voice to say, “Check page 22 in the fishing regs—and don’t tell anyone you heard it from me. Got it?” Ken chortled and approved as much of Pete’s time as she might need.

  And so she turned to Pete, saying, “Warden, I have one small favor to ask. I need you to keep your hands off one of my deputies for awhile.”

  “And who might that be?” Pete said, rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

  “Ray Pradt. I need eyes on the ground and he’s the best—you know that as well as I do.”

  “A-w-w-h, Chief, do I have to? I make my quota on that guy.”

  “Two weeks—hands off. Then business as usual.”

  Pete nodded. “Unless I find him growing pot.”

  “Pete.” She saw his silly grin. “Stop pulling my leg, I am not in the mood.”

  “I’m not pulling your leg—but I’ll ease up on the guy. Y’know, I keep thinking maybe one of these days he’ll live by the rules …”

  Lew caught Osborne’s eye. Not likely.

  Pete wasn’t the only Loon Laker who questioned (or was it envied?) Ray’s disregard for the emblems of responsible adulthood: 401Ks, annual inspections of septic tanks, and health insurance. Or as an overserved patron at Marty’s Bar said one night when Osborne and Ray stopped in to have a couple Cokes after a good night’s fishing: “I can’t believe it—a family like yours and you dig graves and go fishing every day? What the hell kinda life is that?”

  Ray would just smile and shrug and answer the phone when his critics called for help after a dog or a child went missing in the woods, a fisherman did not return for dinner or a bird hunter stumbled on a peculiar set of bones that could be bear … or human?

  Of course, if a woman badgered him Ray gave her the romantic version: “I don’t know, hon,” he would say. “I’ve been this way since I was a kid. I’m addicted to wildness, y’know. Love the neighborhood—squirrels, chippies, eagles, deer, a couple turkeys, two loons, half a dozen woodpeckers, oh, and a bear just moved in.”

  After she swooned and offered to support him, Ray would decline with a gracious grin and say: “Thank you, sweetheart, but I am happy as I am. I may not have money in the bank but I got the sunset—all those colors! For free!”

  What he also got for free was a ticket to the outdoors and a talent for tracking. Lew had no difficulty arguing that Ray was one of few people north of Chicago who could read sign on the ground, on a tree or in brush and know in an instant if it was the result of weather, creature or human interference. And so his talent trumped the misdemeanor file. Who knew you could be paid for seeing what others miss, for seeing what should be and isn’t?

  “That’s fine, Ray,” said Lew, cell phone pressed to her ear as she listened for a long minute from where she was standing on the sidewalk, one eye on the door to the rental house. “Not sure about Doc but why don’t you and I plan to meet at the Moccasin Lake public landing at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. I have a seven a.m. with both Wausau teams—the guys working the Loomis property and whomever they send to work the Moriarty boat. It’ll be short, just an update on what they got so far. I’ll head your way right afterwards. I’d like a better look at the Moriarty boat—inside and out.

  “But you’re right about the channel—once it’s dusk, don’t push it. Oh, and on your way out tomorrow morning would you mind stopping by the Loomis place? Todd assures me he walked the grounds inch by inch—but I’d feel better with one more set of eyes. Wausau may be the best indoors but when it comes to wooded areas, those boys are way too coat and tie.”

  “Has he found anything?” said Osborn
e as Lew tucked her phone back into its case.

  “Not yet. That asphalt parking lot didn’t leave much to go on. After the crime lab moved DeeDee’s car, Ray scoured the perimeter a good hundred feet into the brush and said he can find no signs of a struggle or of anyone going any further than they might if they wanted to use the bushes instead of the restrooms. He’s willing to bet our victim may have left—or was taken—in another vehicle.”

  “Given what we heard from the girls, whoever she talked to on her cell phone might know something,” said Osborne.

  “And if we can separate those two, we may find out just who that is,” said Lew, crossing her arms as she leaned against Osborne’s car, which was parked in front of her police cruiser. “I’m not leaving here until I have one more chat with Miss Juliana. She’s our weak link.”

  “How do you figure that?” said Osborne.

  “Because she cares. And she’s not stupid.”

  “Ah.” So he and Lew agreed, Carrie was the less bright of the two. “Where’s Ray headed now—back here?”

  “No, he said he tried taking his canoe up the channel against the current and it wasn’t too bad. On the chance that our victim may have entered the water at a point north and drifted down towards the boat, he’s going to give that west bank a good look up until dusk. What he doesn’t cover today, he’ll tackle first thing in the morning. Which is fine with me—tough tracking in the dark.”

  The front door of the rental house opened and Carrie tripped down the stairs, swinging a small purse and waving as she said, “Chief Ferris, I’m meeting up with my folks—we’re going to make sure Mrs. Kurlander gets something to eat and has help with stuff. She and my mom are good friends.”

  “Good, Carrie, you have my cell phone number if you remember anything,” said Lew. “Is Juliana going with you?”

  “She’s meeting us at the Loon Lake Pub. Right now she’s on the phone—I don’t know who with ‘cause it just rang.”