Dead Insider (15 page)

Osborne wasn’t sure who fell asleep first, himself or Lew, but he was sure he hadn’t moved a muscle until he heard Mike barking. “What?” asked Lew, drowsy beside him.

“Just the dog,” said Osborne, throwing back the coverlet and checking the clock. It was ten minutes before three. “He must hear a raccoon out in the yard. I’ll go let him out.” As he walked toward the kitchen, Osborne could hear the dog banging against the sides of his crate as he continued to bark.

“Hey, Mike,
no bark
,” said Osborne as he reached to unlatch the crate. He had put the dog in his crate so he wouldn’t bother Mallory and Kenton in the middle of the night. Osborne was used to the cold nose pressing against his shoulder in the middle of the night, but other people didn’t find the affectionate nuzzle quite so comforting. Kenton certainly wouldn’t. He opened the back door and was surprised to see the dog take off at run.

A scream ripped the air, and Osborne spun around.
Downstairs! It came from downstairs
. He ran for the stairway leading to the lower level of his home, nearly colliding with Lew as she came running out of the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?”

Another scream, this one guttural as if someone was being strangled. Osborne stumbled down the stairs just as a figure in black ran across the downstairs family room and out the door leading to the patio.

“Mallory? Are you okay?” He reached the bedroom where Mallory had been sleeping. He turned on the light. Mallory was crouched on the floor, holding her head and coughing. “I can’t breathe, Dad. Dad, I can’t breathe.”

“Doc, let me try,” said Lew, rushing past him. She knelt beside Mallory and, putting an arm across her back, lifted her up and onto the bed. “Take it slow, Mal, relax … good.”

Hunched over, Mallory kept making harsh, heaving noises as she tried to get air into her lungs. “Don’t try to talk,” said Lew. “Just whisper. Take it easy. This happened to me a couple years ago. I know how it feels.”

Mallory turned searching eyes on Lew, who said, “I got pinned by this big bruiser of a guy I was trying to arrest. He had me by the throat against my squad car. I know the feeling, but you’re getting some air. It’s going to be okay. Just try to relax.”

“We’re here, we’ll help you,” said Osborne, wondering if he would have to do an emergency tracheotomy. He had never done one, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t if it meant keeping his daughter alive.

“Lew, should I get a scalpel?” Lew brushed him away with a negative shake of her head.

“Someone—” Mallory squeezed out the word.

“Don’t worry about that now, just breathe … nice and slow,” said Lew.

On his knees beside the bed, Osborne said, “We need you to be okay first.” In the distance he could hear the dog snarling, barking. Mike had hold of something—someone.

“Dad, I—” She gagged and coughed.

“Good, Mallory, the coughing is good,” said Lew. “You’re getting air, just take it easy and don’t talk. Was it Kenton? Did you two—”

“No, no …” Mallory looked up at the two of them, and that’s when Osborne saw the welts on her neck.

Kenton crowded into the room behind Osborne. “Wha-a-a? What’s happening?”

After about five minutes, Mallory was able to lean back against the pillows that Lew had propped up behind her. “I’m better,” she whispered.

“All right,” said Lew, sitting beside her on the bed. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I was sound asleep,” said Mallory, continuing to whisper. “Had the blanket over my head because there was a mosquito in here and I was too tired to deal with it. All of sudden I felt this pressure on my head and my neck. I heard her say, ‘Kenton, this is what happens when you ask too many questions.’ At first I couldn’t breathe, but I managed to get one knee loose and kick her sideways long enough to scream. Thank heavens you heard me. Then she was on me again—this time with her bare hands. I didn’t fight. I tried to pretend that I was unconscious. Dad, that’s when she heard you coming down the stairs and she let go. But she punched me hard right in the face.”

“I can see,” said Osborne. “Afraid you’re going to have a black eye, sweetheart.”

“Did she break my nose?” Mallory raised a hand to touch herself gingerly.

“Black eye and a sore neck, but you’re alive,” said Lew. “You keep saying ‘she’—”

“It was that woman, Lauren Crowell,” said Mallory. She looked over at Kenton. “She thought I was you until I screamed.”

“I am so very sorry,” said Kenton, rubbing his forehead. “This is my fault. I thought the woman was a neurotic control freak, not someone who would go this far. My God, Mallory. I don’t know what to say.”

“I do, and if you’ll excuse me, I need to report this,” said Lew. “Mallory, we need to get you to the hospital and have you checked out.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine.”

“Listen to me, this was attempted murder,” said Lew, her voice firm. “I need a detailed report from a physician, and I need it now. Doc, Kenton—do you want to come along?”

“Hell, yes,” said Kenton. “Who can sleep after this?”

Before leaving for the hospital, Osborne called for the dog, but Mike was gone. Osborne made sure to leave the gate open.

At three-thirty that morning, the Loon Lake Police switchboard got a 911 call from a man driving home late from a poker game with buddies. He was stopped on County Road C.

“Help! Please. I just hit something crossing the road. I didn’t see it till the last minute—it was black and running kind of bent over. I thought I hit a wolf. Got out of my car to make sure it was dead. But, oh my God, it’s a woman!”

The caller broke down. “Please send help fast; I think she’s dead.”

Judith Barrington leaned over the still figure under the sheet in the morgue at St. Mary’s Hospital. She had driven down immediately after getting the call from the Loon Lake Police suggesting that she stop first at the police station, where Lew and Osborne were waiting for her. The three of them drove together in Lew’s cruiser, parking behind the emergency entrance of the hospital in order to avoid a growing crowd of reporters camped out in the main parking lot.

Osborne and Lew watched in silence as she pulled back the sheet covering her daughter’s head. The car had tossed Lauren high in the air upon impact. It was the landing that broke her neck, killing her instantly. The damage to her facial features was so minimal it was difficult to believe she was dead, until you noticed the pallor of her skin.

Judith studied the white face under the fringe of black hair, the mouth agape. An attendant had pressed the eyelids closed. Reaching forward, the mother pushed tendrils of black hair back behind her daughter’s ears. “She always liked her hair this way,” said Judith. “Even when she was a little girl. She had lovely ears.

“I don’t know that I have ever seen her look so peaceful. Funny, I can’t help thinking this was what she has always wanted: to be done with us, with life.”

“The hard part is she forced someone else to do it for her,” said Lew in a quiet voice. “We aren’t pressing charges on the driver of the car that hit her. No alcohol was involved. She was wearing black leggings and a long-sleeved black shirt that made it close to impossible to see her in the dark.”

“Why was she running across a road in the middle of the night?” asked Judith.

“Doc, you want to answer that?” asked Lew, turning to Osborne.

“Twenty minutes earlier, she entered my home through a lower-level patio door. I happen to have a large black Labrador Retriever who is a good watchdog. Not knowing there was an intruder in the house, I thought he’d heard a raccoon in the yard and let him out of his crate.

“She must have run out through the patio and right into the dog. I’m afraid he nipped her in the calf as he was chasing her, and he wouldn’t let her near the car she had parked near my neighbor’s driveway. My guess is she thought that if she crossed the highway, she could get away from the dog.”

“How bad was the bite? This may sound strange to you,” said Judith with a sad smile, “but I need to know everything about how she died.” She closed her eyes. “Everything.”

“Of course,” said Lew. “I lost a child, my son. He was killed in a fight, and I had to see, too. You can’t change anything, but it helps to know.” Judith nodded.

Osborne raised the sheet from where it covered Lauren Crowell’s legs to show where Mike’s teeth had broken the skin, leaving traces of blood caked on the shin.

“Umm,” said Judith. She reached out to touch the wound, her fingers lingering on the spot. She shook her head. “If only I could have done something over the years to help my Lauren. I could have loved her, you know.”

Judith’s face was composed and her manner restrained as she said, “The terrible thing is … I am so relieved to see her here. To know she can’t hurt anyone any more. I feel like I’ve been let out of prison. Isn’t that awful?”

“No,” said Lew. “We understand. Your daughter was sick. Not all mental illness can be treated. You said that someone in your husband’s family had psychotic episodes and was committed to an institution. That means there may be a genetic factor that you have no control over.

“Mrs. Barrington, if you feel confident that you have made a positive identification of the victim, I believe we’re finished here,” said Lew. “There’s just some paperwork that Dr. Osborne will help you complete, back in my office.”

“Not yet,” said Judith. “If you don’t mind, can we find a place to sit and talk for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” said Lew. “The hospital has a visitor center with some private rooms. Let’s walk down there.”

Judith followed them down the hall to a small room. After closing the door behind her, she set her purse on a side table and sat down, her hands clasped in her lap. Osborne found a quiet elegance in her composure.

“I’m so worried about the people that Lauren has hurt. Dr. Osborne, how is your daughter? Chief Ferris told me that Lauren assaulted—”

“She’s going to be fine. Bruised, yes, and pretty shaken, but she’ll be fine.”

He saw no point in burdening the poor woman with more details than were necessary. And Mallory was doing okay. The trauma physician found no bruising inside the throat, nothing torn or broken in spite of the initial pain from the pressure on her neck. The black eye should be gone in a week.

“But the other woman, the one who was so terribly burned when her house exploded. Chief Ferris, didn’t you say that the report from the fire department was that someone had turned on all the burners on the gas stove in that old house?”

“Yes,” said Lew. “We’ll never prove it, but since Dr. Osborne was there two days ago when Lauren barged into the house without knocking, angry that Kaye was planning a memorial service for Jane Ericsson, I am convinced she snuck in and turned on the gas—possibly while Kaye was asleep. Kaye has a habit of taking long naps in her rocking chair. With the amount of gas that had filled that house, all that was needed was a tiny spark from a move as simple as pressing the latch on the screen door—”

“Or moving the rocking chair,” said Osborne. “Kaye is not senile, so it is highly unlikely she turned on the gas jets herself.”

“Will she die?” asked Judith.

“No,” said Osborne, “I checked with the MDs in the burn unit where she is being treated, and the good news is that she has stabilized. She will need skin grafts and there will be some scarring, but they expect her to recover. Kaye has many friends who are willing to help, so the prognosis is good—not great, but good. Does that help?”

“Yes, a great deal. Chief Ferris, you must have questions for me,” said Judith. “If not now, eventually, so please don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

“I do, but I am not sure you are up for answering them at the moment,” said Lew. “Try me,” said Judith. “The more we know, the more we can put behind us.”

“I have two questions,” said Lew, pausing before she continued. “The big one is why Lauren would have turned on Jane Ericsson. Jane trusted her. Based on what the other staff people on the campaign say, she seems to have admired Lauren. She was paying her well …”

“Jane Ericsson must have said ‘no’ to something,” said Judith. “Something important to Lauren. It’s the ‘no’ that sets her off.”

“We think that Lauren had almost convinced Jane to include her in her will,” said Lew. “To rewrite the will: to remove Kaye Lund, whom Jane had known since childhood, and add Lauren.”

“Something else, Chief Ferris,” said Osborne. “We know she was siphoning funds from the campaign. Could Jane have confronted her on that?”

“To expect to get away with either doesn’t make a lot of sense,” said Lew. “Although she could have escaped with the money, I guess. We know she has several hundred thousand hidden somewhere.”

“You think reality meant anything to Lauren?” asked Judith. It was a rhetorical question. “She lived in her own world, a fantasy world where she got what she wanted, or else.”

“But why the cutting? Why dismember the body?” asked Lew.

“She did that before. Remember I told you she cut up all of her ex-husband’s personal clothing? I didn’t mention that after her little sister’s death, I found clothing of Mari’s cut up and hidden. It was Lauren’s way of making what troubled her disappear.”

“She could say that Jane had disappeared after an alcoholic binge,” said Osborne. “Maybe fallen off the proverbial dock and never seen again. Happens up here.”

“Dr. Osborne has a point,” said Lew. “It was only by a stroke of luck that the utility worker spotted those bundles in the midst of the storm and flooding. If he hadn’t thought he was seeing someone’s prize venison roasts, we could still be searching for a missing candidate for the U.S. Senate.

“Something that occurs to me is how much media attention this has gotten. In a funny way, it’s possible that Lauren could have stepped into Jane’s shoes—not run for office, but certainly be the focus of attention nationwide.”

“I told you she could steal your soul. She did her best to steal mine.”

“But the murder of Mike Kelly confounds me,” said Lew. “We know she did it, because she had Jane’s phone in her car. We found the phone this morning. And we know it was her voice on that victim’s voicemail that lured him to Jane’s house. Would she have killed him for fifty thousand dollars?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Judith. “I believe I told you I cut her off the minute she escaped from that psychiatric hospital. I don’t know what she’s been living on since.”

“Then why not dismember Mike Kelly’s body, too?”

“Not the same. She wanted the money. She may not have liked that person, but she wouldn’t have fixated on him like she did with this Ericsson woman. You know, it surprises me that Jane Ericsson didn’t see something off-kilter in Lauren’s behavior.”

“Not me,” said Osborne. “I knew her father and mother. People like the Ericssons, who are handsome individuals born into prestige and money, tend to be sloppy in their interactions with others. They assume the people who work for them will do whatever they’re told. They assume a natural authority, and don’t care to be bothered with ‘little’ stuff. I’m under the impression that Lauren did a very good job controlling everything for Jane—even covering up for her binge drinking.”

“Last question, Judith,” said Lew. “Regarding the murder and dismemberment of Jane Ericsson—do you think she planned ahead?”

Judith closed her eyes and shook her head. “Honestly, Chief Ferris—how on earth would I know? I’m no psychopath.”