A Shot to Die For (26 page)

Chapter Forty-one

Jimmy called in a deputy to take Steven Davis’ statement. Before he arrived, Jimmy asked Davis for his phone. Davis handed it over goodnaturedly. “The wife’s been bugging me to get one of those fancy ones with a camera anyway.”

Jimmy sent another deputy over to the Flynns’ home to stake out the place.

“You’re not going to arrest her?” I asked.

“For what? Having a fight with her sister?”

“She was supposed to pick up her sister. She never did. She lied about it. And in the interim, Daria was killed.”

“Ellie, it’s still speculation. And I don’t have time to work it through right now.” He gathered his wallet and keys from his desk and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Where are you going?”

He checked his watch, opened a drawer behind his desk, and pulled out a map.

“You’re going to look for Luke.”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m going with you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is police business.”

“You’re lying.”

He looked over. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you were removing yourself from the investigations. But you’re going to try and find him anyway.” When he didn’t answer, I added, “You want to get to him before anyone else.”

He threw me a look but didn’t deny it.

“Jimmy, I have to go with you. I need to see Luke. And I have things to tell you. About Chip.”

“Chip?”

“I talked to his wife.”

“Jen?”

I nodded.

He hesitated, but then shook his head. “It’ll have to wait until I get back.”

“It can’t. I—I think I might know what happened to Annie.”

Jimmy stared at me. “How could you?”

I stood my ground. “Please, Jimmy. We have to talk.”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. “If that’s the way you’re going to be, I’ll just follow you in my Volvo.”

His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Try me.”

He walked to the door, shaking his head. I followed two steps behind. He stopped and turned around. “Christ. Just get in the car.”

***

“It’s more than speculation,” I explained on the way to the airstrip. We were in Jimmy’s gold Camry. “It fits together. I should have known when she came to my house.”

“Kim came to your house?”

I nodded. “Not long after Daria died. Irene was with her.” I explained how they’d come, ostensibly to ask me about Daria’s last words. “But then Kim came into the kitchen and pumped me about Daria’s ‘boyfriend.’”

“What did she ask you?”

“She wanted to know if Daria said anything about him to me. Whether I’d seen him. If I knew what he looked like. What he did.” I took a breath. “I thought she was genuinely trying to identify him. But now, I see it was all a sham.” I glanced out the window. “Then there were the times I talked to her in the restaurant. Told her what I’d learned from Willetta, from you, even Luke. She was clever. Always two steps ahead of me.” I looked over. “I didn’t see it, Jimmy. I fucked up.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

I shook my head. “Jimmy, I was the one who perpetrated the myth of a boyfriend picking her up. Me. I led you and the police astray. And then spreading the rumors about Luke and Daria.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “And all the time, it was Kim. Jesus, what did I do?”

“Anyone could have made the same assumption, Ellie. You didn’t know Daria made two calls. And I have to warn you. There’s still no proof Kim was involved in Daria’s murder.”

“Not yet.”

“What’s the motive, Ellie? Why would she kill her sister? And why go through all the maneuvering to make it look like a sniper attack? They lived together. If Kim wanted to kill Daria, there are much easier ways than staging a shooting at a rest stop.”

“If you’re so unsure, why’d you send a deputy to stake out her house?”

“Because—because I think it’s a good idea to keep tabs on her. We’re going to have another talk when I get back.”

We turned onto the access road to the Lodge and drove around back to the airstrip. Jimmy had called ahead, and one of the staffers at the Lodge raised the door to the hangar. Although I’d peered in several times before, I hadn’t actually been inside. I followed Jimmy into a cavernous room with a cement floor and skirted a jumble of ropes, tarps, and other equipment. I stopped in front of a white plane with a blue stripe running down its side.

“The Cessna!” I exclaimed. “It’s here.” I looked around, half expecting to see Luke emerge from the cockpit, slipping his sunglasses off and greeting me with a smile.

Jimmy walked around the plane, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “But the other one isn’t.”

“The other one?”

“Luke has two planes, both of them Cessnas. One of them is equipped with pontoons.”

I blinked. Two planes. Of course. There had been more than one plane parked here. “So that means—”

“He’s planning to land on water.”

I hesitated. Then, “I think I know where he is.”

“I do, too.”

***

The drive to Star Lake took over five hours. A steady rain dogged us for the first two hours, sharp tiny bullets that exploded on contact with the windshield. Jimmy tried one last time to persuade me to go home, but when I refused, he threw up his hands. “Suit yourself.”

I called Rachel at home and told her I was going to northern Wisconsin. She said she’d spend the night at Barry’s.

As we headed north, the steady thud on the roof of the Toyota faded to an occasional plink. The scenery changed, too, forests of evergreens and deciduous trees now pushing in from both sides of the road. The insulation of a thick cushion of green was oddly comforting, and we started to talk.

I told him what I’d learned from Jen Sutton.

“So Chip is obsessive about being neat,” Jimmy summed up. “And Annie’s clothes were neatly folded.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s thin.”

“Oh, come on. How many sexual predators take the time to fold their victim’s clothes afterward?”

“It’s bizarre, I’ll grant you, but—”

“But it could be.”

“If you’re right, why was it Luke who bolted? And what about his baseball shirt?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Chip was wearing it for some reason.”

“And what about the bloodstains?”

“What about them?” I peered over at Jimmy.

He shook his head. “You know I can’t talk about that with you.”

“Maybe not. But I can. I don’t think it was Luke.”

“If you’re right, why didn’t Luke tell me a long time ago?”

“How could he, Jimmy? You’re the chief of police.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“How do you turn in your own brother for murdering your sister?”

“Luke knows the difference between right and wrong,” he said stubbornly.

“Jimmy, think of the pressure he was under. Chuck Sutton is a master at twisting people’s arms. Guilt. Threats. Bribes. Whatever it takes. What makes you think he wouldn’t do the same thing to his own family?”

“So he convinces his sons to keep quiet and pins the blame on Herbert Flynn,” Jimmy said.

“And when that doesn’t work, he comes up with the intruder theory.”

Jimmy was quiet. Trees and bushes zipped past in a blur of green.

“It’ll be interesting to see if the DNA tests back up my theory.”

He didn’t say anything.

I eyed him. “In fact, the results should answer a lot of questions.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“Right?”

He rubbed a finger across his nose. “Right.”

I studied his face and folded my arms.

He looked over. “What?”

“Tell me something, Jimmy. I’m no expert, but I thought material that’s been in a damp environment for a long time with temperature changes and other kinds of corrosion could become so badly contaminated it wouldn’t yield any DNA at all.”

“Is that so.” He gripped the wheel.

“That’s so.” I kept my eyes on him.

He kept his eyes on the road. “You know, my father is a pretty smart guy for eighty-one,” I said after a while. “In fact, I value his advice more and more every day.”

“Yeah? What does your father say?”

“Ancient Chinese proverb. Never try to con a con.”

His mouth twitched.

“There are no DNA tests, are there?”

He looked over.

“You know the clothes are too badly contaminated to get any results. You’re using the threat of tests to flush out the Suttons.” When he didn’t answer, I added, “Slick move.”

“You didn’t hear it from me. And I’ll deny it if it gets out.”

“Don’t worry.” I readjusted myself in the seat. “So do you think it will work?”

“It seems to have jarred something loose or we wouldn’t be here now.” He shrugged. “I just hope—well—maybe it’s better not to.”

“What are you going to do when we get to the cabin?”

“I’m going to lay it out for Luke and convince him to come back.”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you think he ran?”

“Don’t know that either. Maybe because he’s guilty. Maybe he just needs to think things through.”

“You don’t think he killed anyone, do you?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then, “I’ve lived here all my life. I thought I knew everyone. Now….” His voice trailed off. I’d never seen him look so sad.

“People always let you down,” I said quietly.

“What?”

“Irene Flynn said that when she and Kim came to my house.”

“Luke never has.”

“You’re his friend.”

“Or the biggest fool east of the Mississippi.”

“It was the note, wasn’t it? Herbert Flynn’s note started it.”

Jimmy didn’t answer.

“Herbert Flynn wrote something that implicated Luke.”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

The fact he didn’t deny it was proof enough. What did the note say? Did Herbert see Luke and his sister together? Did he see him rape her? Kill her? Then stash her clothes in the ice house? Or did he see someone else? Someone wearing Luke’s shirt? Someone he could have mistaken for Luke?

We drove on in silence. Then, “Jimmy, did you know Kim and Luke had an affair?”

No answer.

“Thirty years ago. The summer Anne Sutton died. When you all worked at the Playboy Club.”

The overcast, tinged with shadows, smudged the leaves on the trees with gray.

“You knew.”

He cleared his throat. “It was a long time ago.” The words came out thickly, as if he was pulling out something that had been stuck for a long time.

I told him what Sharon Singer said about Kim. “I wonder if the rumors about Daria and Luke upset her.”

He threw me a sharp look. “Are you saying she was jealous—that she was still carrying a torch for Luke and that’s why she killed her sister?”

“I’m just looking at it as an outsider. Luke and Daria are seen together at the Lodge. Kim finds out. A few weeks later, Daria is killed. The timing is—interesting.”

“The shooter was a man. In all three cases. Kim couldn’t be that—that twisted.”

“The second sniper attack was an anomaly. Different bullet fragments. Different rifle. The same kind that the guy who worked at Mount Olympus owned. You can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking in those terms.”

“Of course I have. But I still don’t think there’s much of a motive. Kim kills Daria because Daria was meeting someone Kim shacked up with thirty years ago? I don’t think so. Even if it happened, don’t you think I would have picked it up?”

“You’ve been friends your entire life. Your families are close. Maybe that’s what Kim was counting on. Exploiting your relationship, figuring she’d be the last person you’d suspect. You said yourself you’re not sure you really know anyone.”

He slid a couple of fingers up and down the steering wheel.

A minute later, his cell phone chirped. He pulled it out. “Yeah?” He paused. “Hello? Anyone there?” He snapped it off. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No service.”

Chapter Forty-two

The town of Star Lake, between the Eagle River and the upper peninsula of Michigan, is one of a collection of small towns in northern Wisconsin that used to be home to the logging industry. But logging has moved on, and today Vilas County is known mostly as a resort area. The snowmobile was invented in neighboring Sayner, and with miles of trails winding through the area, the town claims to have started the winter sport. In summer, visitors flock to hundreds of nearby lakes, including Star Lake, for which the town was named.

The overcast thinned as we drove north, and strips of blue sky appeared between the clouds. My cell didn’t have any service either, so we stopped at a gas station on Route 70 to use a pay phone. I bought a Reese’s bar and took it outside. The climate was different up here. Not just cooler; the air was lighter and somehow fresher. I’d heard black flies were a problem in summer, but they must have been seeking more attractive targets, because they didn’t bother me.

Jimmy came back to the car, looking solemn. “There’s been a development.”

I pitched my candy wrapper into a trash can.

“The police found some prints on a green pickup that had been abandoned in the Forest Preserve in Illinois.”

“In the bed of the truck?”

He looked surprised.

“I was there when they found them,” I explained.

“Well, then, you might be interested to know who they belong to.” He hesitated. “Billy Watkins.”

The guy who worked at Mount Olympus. And owned a Bolt Action Remington rifle.

“There’s more.” He looked troubled. “The deputy staking out the Flynn house said Kim took off a couple of hours ago. He followed her as far as Route 39. She’s headed north. The sheriff’s department is looking for her.”

Route 39 was the highway we’d taken coming up to Star Lake.

“Jimmy, does she know about the fishing cabin?”

“A lot of people do. Luke’s been coming up here since he was a kid.”

***

Heading into Star Lake, we drove through winding country roads marked with letters instead of names. The legacy of the lumber industry was ubiquitous, and nearly all the buildings were some variation of wood or log cabin. Jimmy studied his map only once, but he drove like he knew where he was going. Eventually, we turned down a dirt road. It hadn’t rained this far north, and the tires kicked up dust. We made a left onto a side road so thickly wooded it was little more than a trail. A hundred yards beyond was a large clearing, and in the middle of the clearing stood a cabin.

I’d been expecting a small, shabby place, the kind of cabin you see in books about Abraham Lincoln. I was wrong. The structure was built with Scandinavian scribed logs, but the “cabin” was as large as my house. Glass windows and sliding doors hugged three sides of the building, and the bottom half was supported by fieldstone. The walk to the front door was lined with peonies and scrub roses, and I thought I saw a solar panel on the roof. Stands of conifers and cedars flanked the property.

I caught a glimpse of a picnic table through a cluster of reeds and bushes and, beyond that, an expanse of water almost as blue as the sky. I got out of the car and started toward the lake.

“Ellie. Don’t trespass. Wait here. He knows my car.”

But I was already cornering the house. As I reached the backyard, I tripped on a large rock in the grass and lost my balance. I fell to my knees and threw out my hands to steady myself. As I straightened up, a voice growled, “Don’t move.”

Without moving my head, I looked up. Luke Sutton stood over me, aiming a shotgun at my chest.

His voice was angry and rough. “Why are you here?”

“I—I came with Jimmy. He’s out front.”

He eyed me suspiciously. Then he shouted. “Sack—you out there?”

Jimmy’s voice came back. “I’m here, Luke.”

“Go back home. I don’t want to see you.” His face hardened. “Either of you.”

There was no reply from Jimmy. Luke kept the shotgun trained on me. My heart was pumping wildly.

“I told you. Get out.”

I swallowed. “No. We—I—wanted to talk to you.”

“What about?”

I looked up. “A lot of things,” I said lamely.

“So talk.”

I started to gesture toward the gun, but as I did, Jimmy appeared around the back. When he saw Luke, he froze for an instant but recovered quickly. “Luke, that’s not going to help.” He walked slowly toward his friend.

Luke looked from Jimmy to me and back. “Stop it, Sack. Don’t come any closer. I’ve had enough.” He swung the shotgun toward Jimmy.

“I know you have, Luke,” Jimmy said quietly. “So have I. That’s why I’m here. I want to help.”

He seemed to consider it. Then, “Sure.”

Jimmy took another step forward. Luke waved the gun. “I told you. Stop. Drop your weapon.”

Jimmy stopped. “I didn’t bring one, Luke. You can search me.”

Luke ran his tongue around his lips.

“Luke, listen. Whatever’s going on, we can deal with it. I’m your friend.”

Luke swung the shotgun back to me. “What are you doing here?”

“I—I need to know the truth.”

“Why? So you can put it in your next video?” he spit out. “Poor little rich boy murders his sister, maybe a few others, too?”

“No,” I said softly. “Because I’m—I care about you.”

A moment of absolute stillness followed. I heard the coos of birds, the plop of something riffling the water. A cloud that had been covering the sun broke apart, releasing a ray of light that shot into the lake. Luke slowly lowered the gun and laid it on the ground. Straightening up, he went to the picnic table, sat down, and cradled his head on his arms. Jimmy sat next to him. I slid onto the bench on his other side. The afternoon sun danced on the lake. The only thing I heard was the distant chirr of insects.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before Luke pulled himself together. But the sun was arcing toward the west when he raised his head and took a long breath.

“You okay, pal?” Jimmy asked.

“I’m just so fucking tired.” He ran a hand over his hair and beard. He looked at Jimmy, then at me, his eyes softening as they passed. Despite everything, my heart skipped a beat.

“Those DNA tests you’re doing?” He looked at Jimmy. “You’re not going to need them. I can tell you what’s on Annie’s clothes.” He took another breath, as if fueling himself with courage.

“Chip’s semen.” He paused. “And it’s his blood on my baseball shirt.”

Jimmy made a show of not reacting. I sat very still.

“He was—abusing her. He’d been doing it for a while. But I didn’t know.” He looked dazed, disoriented. “Oh shit. I didn’t want to know. But all those years—oh God. I knew something was wrong. But Jesus. He was my older brother.”

“What happened the night Annie died?” I asked.

It came out slowly. “I was working at the airstrip. Mom and Dad were at the races. They had a new horse at Arlington and wanted to see him run. They were going to spend the night there. They did that a lot. Chip and Annie were home.” He bit his lip. “I should never have left.”

“Why?” I breathed.

“I knew something was wrong. Chip and Annie were barely speaking. It’d been that way for a while. At the time, I remember thinking—oh God—rationalizing that it was just a fight over things. That maybe Annie was ‘borrowing’ some of Chip’s things like Chip did with me. He’d take my records. Sometimes my clothes.”

“The baseball shirt.”

He nodded. “I figured Annie was doing that to Chip. And that Chip was pissed off. But then she called me right after supper. At the airstrip. Asked if she could come by. She wanted to talk. I told her sure.” He blinked. “She never showed up. I waited, but she never came.” He shifted. “But you have to understand. She never said anything. Not one fucking word.” He gripped the edge of the table. “I—I might have been able to do something. But I didn’t know.”

Jimmy cut in. “Annie never asked anyone for help. Don’t you remember the summer I tried to teach her to waterski? She wouldn’t let me. She always had to figure it out for herself.”

“Thanks, but that won’t cut it. I was her older brother. I was supposed to be there.”

“You were seventeen,” I said.

“I should have called. At least found out where she was. Maybe that would have helped. But I figured she blew me off and went out with her friends. You know, found something better to do.” A strangled sound came out of his throat.

“What happened then?” Jimmy asked.

“When I got home, Chip wasn’t in bed. Neither was Annie. I thought Chip had gone to the Sugar Shack, you know?”

“The Sugar Shack wasn’t known for checking IDs back then,” Jimmy said to me.

“I figured Annie was sleeping over at a friend’s,” Luke went on. “I was wiped out so I went to bed. But a couple hours later, I woke up. Someone was beating down the door. Shouting. Yelling. It turned out to be Chip. He was falling down drunk. I mean, Chip had been drinking for a while, but this was over the top even for him. He went into the bathroom and threw up. Eventually, I got him into the shower. Then I asked him where Annie was.”

Jimmy winced.

“He wouldn’t answer. Then he said he didn’t know. I went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. While it was brewing, I decided to call one of her friends to make sure she was there. I was just picking up the phone when Herbert showed up.”

“Herbert Flynn.”

He nodded. “Scared the shit out of me. Just kind of appeared. I saw his shadow in the outside light.”

“He didn’t ring the bell?” Jimmy asked.

“Herbert always came around to the kitchen. The cook or the maid would let him in. Anyway, when I opened the door, he looked me up and down. Then he glared. I mean, if looks could kill….I asked him what was going on. I mean, it was probably around three in the morning by then.” Luke faltered. “He—he looked furious. But pale. And he was trembling. Actually trembling. He asked me if I knew where Annie was.”

Jimmy’s head came up.

“When he said, ‘Do you know where your sister is,’ I got scared. It was three in the morning. Why would Herbert ask me something like that? I told him I thought she was at her girlfriend’s house. But that I was just going to call and make sure.” He hesitated. “I remember he looked like he didn’t believe me.”

“Maybe he didn’t know what to believe,” I said.

“I think—maybe at that time—well, who knows?” Luke shrugged. “Anyway, then I asked why he was asking. He mumbled something, but I didn’t know what he meant. I kept asking him. Finally he told me to come with him. I followed him down to the pier. That’s when I saw her. In—in the water.” He started to blink.

We waited.

“She was floating facedown. Her hair was all spread out around her. And she was naked. Her skin was so white. The moonlight.” His voice cracked. “For a minute, I thought maybe it was a joke. That she’d roll over, and grin at me. ‘Fooled you, Luke.’” He swallowed. “It didn’t happen.”

“What did you do?”

“We pulled her out of the water. Herbert tried to give her mouth to mouth but nothing happened. I tried, too.” A sob came out of his throat. “I—I’m not sure what happened next. I know I called my father. He told me not to do anything else until he got there. They must have flown down the highway—they got home before dawn. Herbert was gone by then.”

“He left?” Jimmy asked.

Luke nodded.

“When?”

“I don’t remember times. I do remember Chip came downstairs after his shower. He looked like shit. He didn’t say much. He kept rolling his shoulder. I remember that.”

“Rolling his shoulder?”

“Like it hurt. When I asked him, he said he must have pulled a muscle on the boat that afternoon.”

“What happened when your father got home?” I asked.

Luke looked toward the lake. “He—it got confusing. He was on the phone a lot. Mother collapsed. Our doctor came. The housekeeper—it wasn’t Mrs. Baines then—was there, too.”

“What about the police?” Jimmy asked. “When did they get there?”

Luke looked blank. “I—I don’t remember exactly. Maybe the next morning?”

“Your father didn’t tell you to call them first thing? Even before they got home?” I asked.

Luke shook his head. “No. He specifically told me not to do anything until he got there.”

Jimmy and I exchanged a glance.

“I do remember that Father talked to Chip first, then to me.”

“What did he say?”

Luke shifted his gaze. “He came into my room. I’d been lying down, not sleeping, of course. It was impossible to sleep. Anyway, he came in and sat down on the bed, and said something to the effect of ‘We’re a family, son. And we’re going to stick together. That’s the most important thing. I’ll take care of everything.’”

I frowned. “That’s all?”

“That’s all I remember.”

I rubbed my forearm with my other hand. “What did he mean?”

“I didn’t know. Not then. But after it became clear the whole thing was going to be pinned on Herbert, and then an ‘intruder’….” He looked at both of us in turn. “I started to figure it out.”

Jimmy looked down.

Luke clasped his hands on the picnic table. “We never talked about it again. Mother grew more and more reclusive, and then she just….” His voice trailed off. “I just—well—tried not to think about anything. I smoked a lot of weed. Did some drinking myself. But it weighed. Eventually, I left.”

“I knew you changed after that,” Jimmy said in a low voice. “I thought it was just Annie.”

I interjected. “That’s when you enlisted?”

He nodded. “I didn’t care where I went or what I did. Even if I lived or died.”

“Instead of dying, you became a fighter pilot.”

Luke shrugged.

“And then you went to Montana.”

“It was a thousand miles away.”

“Why did you come back?”

“There comes a time—well, I thought, maybe, I could start over. It had been almost thirty years. I was an adult. I missed the Midwest. And I wanted to start the airline. I couldn’t do that out there.”

“Didn’t you wonder why no one ever told you the truth?”

“No.” It came out fast and firm. “I wouldn’t let myself. I didn’t trust my memory anyway. Until the other day. When you came to the house with Jimmy.”

I frowned. “Me?”