Death Takes a Gander (14 page)

“She’s right about that,” Dorothy said. “Besides, it’s a lot less dangerous than driving a car.”

Angela called Kramner first and left a message on both the office phone and his cell. When he didn’t return her call, Harry arranged for a charter pilot to meet them at the airfield at the crack of dawn.

“It’s too late for you to go home tonight, Angela. Why don’t you stay here? You can sleep in the guest room.”

Angela debated driving to Fort Collins, then opted to stay. After the others left and Lark had retreated to the bathtub, Angela arranged for Bernie Crandall to meet her at the house.

She let him into the kitchen when he arrived and handed him the baggie with the plastic containers. “I found these in Eric’s pocket.”

Crandall held the bag up to the light. “Fishing-sinker containers?”

“Do you think you could run them for prints?”

“What for? There must be hundreds of these out there.” He gestured broadly toward the lake.

“But not that many mixed in with the debris Frakus plowed off the ice. Check out the notation. He picked them up in the pile of debris Frakus cleared
before
the tournament started.”

Bernie tipped back his hat with a beefy hand and scratched his forehead. “So, let me get this straight. You think someone pushed Eric into the hole and locked him in Tauer’s ice house because he found
these
on the ice?”

Angela shook her head. “If the person knew Eric had them, he would have taken them. No, I think someone scattered the fishing sinkers on the ice to cover up the real reason the geese were sick. I think that person was involved with Ian’s death. And I think he figured Eric was onto him,” she said, ticking the points off on her fingers.

“And the poisoned waterfowl is the link?”

“Correct.” At least Crandall understood the connection.

He twisted the plastic bag in his hand. “I doubt we’ll pull much off these containers.”

“Maybe not, but it won’t hurt to try.”

“Think it’s the same person who placed the phone call to Velof?” asked Crandall, slipping the containers into his coat pocket.

“It stands to reason.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

After Bernie left, Angela headed to bed. She woke up surprised to find Kramner still hadn’t returned her call. Should she should try and reach him again? Based on his “no big expenditures” lecture, she figured he would ground her. Better to follow Ian’s advice. “Solve the case, make Kramner look good, then submit your expenses.”

At five a.m.
,
she knocked on Lark’s bedroom door. No answer. She knocked a second time, then headed for the kitchen. There she found a note saying Lark had gone to the Drummond and would be right back.

Angela slipped on her insulated coat and headed out to warm up the pickup. If Lark wasn’t back by the time the car blew warm air, she would drive over to the Drummond and get her. Leaning her head back, she wondered how Eric was doing, then a tap on the passenger-side window caused her to start.

Lark peeked her head over the sill and gestured for Angela to unlock the door. She wore a dark hat pulled down over her blonde hair, and she kept glancing from side to side.

“What the heck are you doing?” Angela asked.

Lark slid into the passenger side, keeping low in the seat. “I had to ditch Linda Verbiscar.”

“The reporter?” Angela glanced around. Why was Verbiscar following Lark? Because of the poisonings at the Drummond?

“Where is she now?” Angela dropped the truck into gear.

“As far as I know, she’s parked in the hotel’s valet parking.”

Easing the truck out of the parking space, Angela crawled the truck toward the road. If she hugged the line of parked cars and moved slowly, maybe she could slip onto the road unseen. The last thing they needed was Linda Verbiscar following them around. The woman was aggressive and loud, and if she tracked them down, no doubt she would try and bully her way onto the plane.

“I think she knows about the flight,” Lark said, stealing a glance out the rear window.

“What makes you think that?”

“She asked me a few questions.”

Angela sought perspective. “Who would have told her?”

“One of the EPOCH members, maybe. I don’t remember your telling anyone to keep the trip under wraps.” Her tone was defensive, and the truth stung. Even Angela had told Bernie Crandall.

“Do you think Verbiscar put it out over the air?”

“Who knows?” Lark pulled off her hat and slouched lower in the seat. “Why?”

Even though Angela had left multiple messages for Kramner, she had never actually told him what she was doing.

“Your boss doesn’t know, does he?” Lark asked, as though reading her mind.

“Let’s just say I’m deep undercover.”

“Is that why you’re not wearing your uniform?”

Angela had brought one uniform and one change of clothes, and had ended up staying in Elk Park for the weekend. “I’m wearing the jeans and sweater because the uniform’s dirty.”

That
, and the incognito factor. In the event they found something and she asked the pilot to land the plane, it might make it easier to explain her presence on the ground.

When they reached the intersection to Highway 34, Angela could see the KEPC-TV mobile unit still sitting in front of the Drummond. She eased onto the highway and prayed Verbiscar wouldn’t spot the truck.

“Is she following us?”

Lark peered past Angela over the back seat. “No. They’re still parked.”

Angela drove while Lark stayed slouched in the seat and placed a phone call on her cell. After a short conversation, she ended the call and announced, “According to Stephen, Verbiscar mentioned the flight in her six a.m. report.”

“Great.” Angela slammed the heel of her hand on the steering wheel. “Just great.”

“She also leaked the information about the shot’s unusual properties.”

Angela stiffened. Who else but Lark and Covyduck knew about that?

The EPOCH members, but the more Angela thought about it, the more she doubted any of them would have spoken with Verbiscar.

“Do you think she talked to Covyduck?”

“It’s possible,” answered Lark, sitting up at last. “She started tailing me at the hospital.”

Angela glanced at Lark. “How’s Eric doing?”

“The same.” Lark’s body language and clipped monotone made it clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Give it some time.”

They rode in silence after that. Twenty minutes later, Angela wheeled the truck into the parking lot at the airport. A double-wide trailer served as the office, and two rows of oversized Quonset huts housed some of the planes. Other small aircraft were lined up out near the fence, while two short runways formed a cross to the north.

A blue and white Cessna 180 sitting on the tarmac was being checked over by two men.

“Hello there,” greeted the taller of the two when Angela climbed out of the truck. “Coot Hensley at your service.” Doffing his baseball cap, he turned to his companion. “My damsels have arrived at last. It looks like we’re good to go.”

Damsels?
Angela considered taking offense, then considered his age. He had to be in his sixties. Tall and lanky, he wore his grizzled hair buzzed short in military fashion. A five o’clock shadow dusted his face, and she wondered if he’d forgotten to shave. Then he flashed a toothy smile, and she decided it was just his style.

Angela grinned back, then reached into the truck, picked up the digital camera lying on the seat, and looped it around her neck. “Are you ready, Lark?”

Lark climbed out of the passenger seat, a stricken look on her face.

“You look a little green there, young lady.”

Lark’s grip on the truck rail turned her knuckles white. Her eyes stretched wide with fear. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come along,” Angela reminded her. “Don’t bail on me now.”

“What’s the problem, girlie? Scared?”

Angela had to admit, the plane looked small, and Coot looked a little bit rogue.

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m the best danged pilot this side of the Mississippi. It’s a clear day, not a cloud in the sky. We should have smooth sailing all the way.”

Lark looked less than convinced.

Coot pointed her to the backseat and put Angela up beside him. “You’ll have a good view from here, Angela. And you, missy, you’re going to love the ride. There’s just nothing like it. Put your headset on.”

He picked up a pair of earphones attached to a mike and demonstrated the fit. Angela followed suit, nudging Lark to put her headset on too.

“It makes communication a whole lot easier. Can you hear me?”

She shook her head, and he flipped a switch on the side of the headgear.

“Can you hear me now?” His words reverberated in her ears.

“Loud and clear.” Angela glanced back at Lark. The woman had dug her hands into the cracks of the seat cushions and was holding on for dear life.

“Are there seatbelts?” Lark asked.

“Just like in a car,” answered Coot.

While Lark dug for the belt, Coot turned the key, and the engine whirled to life. Angela glanced around the cockpit, surprised by how much it was like being in a car. The dashboard filled the front of the plane with wheels and dials like fuel gauges and speedometers.

“You can adjust your seat to give her more legroom if you want. There’s a lever under the seat.”

Angela scooted forward, heard Lark’s belt click tight, then fastened her own. Not that she thought it would do much good if the plane went down. Very few people fell out of the sky and walked away from the wreckage.

Coot lifted a thermos of coffee. “Anyone want some?”

“No. Thanks anyway,” Angela answered.

Lark also declined.

“Well, I like my java in the morning.” Pouring some into a disposable cup, he stowed the thermos under his seat, glanced over his shoulder at Lark, then winked at Angela. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ve been doing this since before you were born.”

Throttling up, he sped the plane forward.

Angela strained to see over the dashboard, to no avail. “I can’t see.”

“You will. The Cessna’s a tailwheel aircraft. Wait until the plane gets up to speed.”

In seconds, the tail lifted and they were speeding down the runway.

“It’s noisy,” she said.

“Say what?”

She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or if he really couldn’t hear. The roar of the engine vibrated the air around them, and Angela felt the plane build power.

“Everybody ready?” he asked.

Angela nodded and braced herself in the seat.

Lark didn’t respond.

With a whoop, Coot pulled on the yoke, and the plane broke free of the ground. As they soared into the air, the earth fell away.

“This must be what a bird feels like,” Angela said. “Wow!” The exhilaration of take-off triggered every nerve in her body. Her skin tingled. The colors of the ground brightened. The air tasted sweeter. “This is amazing.”

Coot grinned.

As the plane banked, Angela glanced down. Below them, the KEPC-TV van wound its way along the road toward the airport. “Check it out, Lark.”

Getting no response, Angela turned in her seat and looked back. Lark’s fingers still gripped the seat, and her eyes were pinched shut.

“It’s okay,” Angela said. “We’re in the air. Take a look.”

Angela coaxed until Lark loosened her grip on the seat back and inched her way to the window. After peering out for a moment, she appeared to relax. “It’s really not a bad view, is it?”

“That’s the main reason I picked flying this over my Piper Cherokee,” Coot said. “In a Cessna, the wings are up above us. That way you don’t get anything blocking your view.”

Picking up the map, Angela oriented herself to the ground. “What do you say we start at Barr Lake and work our way out?”

Twenty minutes later, they buzzed a cornfield to the north of the lake.

“See anything?” Coot asked.

Angela shook her head. “Can you take us up along I-76?”

“Wherever your little heart desires.”

Below them, the earth looked sponge-painted, white on brown. Farm fields rolled toward the horizon. Canals and roads crisscrossed, chopping them into neat squares like powdered brownies on a baking sheet. In places, the irrigation systems formed perfect circles, creating a patchwork effect, and several lakes formed dark puddles on the land.

“What lakes are those?” Lark asked, pointing to a cluster just to the east of Barr Lake.

Maybe she is coming out of her stupor
. Angela consulted the map. “The Mile High Lakes. They’re named as a group. The larger one to the south is Horse Creek Reservoir, and beyond that is Prospect Reservoir.”

Coot brought the plane around for another vantage. Angela pressed her nose to the window. Below them, just below the dam, a series of squat buildings hunkered on the northeastern side of the lake. “Lark, look at those.”

“They’re the hunting blinds at Barr Lake.”

If that was the case, the buildings on the south side must belong to the Rocky Mountain Bird Observatory. But what about the cluster of buildings to the east? Peering down, she spotted a cluster of buildings buried deep in the trees.

“What about those?” Angela asked. Painted in camouflage colors and nestled into the cottonwoods and willows, the complex was hard to see.

“It looks like there are some skeet-shooting houses and some trap bunkers down there.”

In addition, Angela could make out several observation blinds along a narrow wetland area. Farther east, a large building sprawled at the top of a knoll, while a private landing strip slashed the land to the north.

“Yessiree,” Coot said. “If you want, I can set her down.”

This place was exactly what they were looking for. Angela didn’t see any cars or movement. “Let’s go for it.”

“Are you crazy?” Lark asked.

Angela and Coot exchanged glances.

She signaled Coot to proceed, then swiveled around in her seat to face Lark. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t look like anyone’s there.”

“But we don’t have permission to land.”

What Angela lacked in experience, she made up for in guts. From the stories Ian had told, this was the sort of thing undercover agents did all the time. “We’ll just take a quick look around and pull a few samples.”