Door County Mystery - 1. Door County Mystery

Door County Mystery

“Wake up, you gotta wake up,” Rush heard a voice say and felt his shoulder being shaken. The voice sounded urgent and well, kinda clipped. It hurt his head and he tried to ignore it.

“Rush. I gotta call and I’ve got to go,” the voice said and the covers were pulled off Rush’s naked body.

“What the hell?” Rush growled grabbing at the sheets. It was fricking cold in that room. Wait, where was he? He stretched, opened his eyes, and saw a darkened room but he could see little cracks in the ceiling and cobwebs. Where the fuck was he?

“I gotta get going. My boss called and the DCI was requested to help with an investigation in Door County,” the man said, pulling a white button down shirt over his stark white t-shirt. Rush began to remember his night and what this was. He was a little embarrassed. Well, not too embarrassed, he’d been in this situation before.

“Give me a minute to get dressed,” Rush said yawning sitting up in the cheap motel bed with the scratchy sheets and the stiff nylon comforter that offered little comfort at all.

“You don’t have to come with me,” his bed companion from last night said tying his tie. “I just didn’t want you to wake up and wonder what happened to me.”

“No, I should get ready,” Rush said and crawled out of bed. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“This sounds like a confusing case and high profile. You sure you want to get involved?” Phil said. That’s right. The guy’s name was Phil and a smile crossed Rush’s face as he recalled what Phil had called him last night.

“Naw, I better go with. That’s the reason for the cross-training. I’m supposed to see how you guys do things and you can see the BCA’s take on investigations.” Rush said smiling and yawning again. That cheap scotch will get you every time.

“Well, hurry up then,” Phil said frowning and grabbing his socks. Phil had quite the pinched, cross look on his face. He also had a glinting gold wedding band on his left hand. Rush had noticed that last night but he hadn’t cared. It didn’t seem to impede Phil’s actions.

“I’ll be five minutes,” Rush said and headed into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, water was running warm already. He hopped in, cleaned up, and was toweling off when Phil greeted him nervously at the door, shifting from foot to foot.

“You really don’t have to come with me. It’s almost two hours away and…”

“If this is about last night, just chill,” Rush said grabbing his boxers and stepping into them. “I’m not gonna out you to your team or your wife or whoever.”

Phil stopped his fidgeting and seemed to relax just a bit. Rush got on his pants and shirt in seconds. “It’s just, it’s just complicated,” he finally said.

“What happened last night was just between the two of us, no more, no less. Don’t get all weird on me. We’ve got three more weeks of me shadowing you. It’s cool,” Rush said as he slid into his dark black coat emblazoned with the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension logo on it. “We’re all good.”

“Okay. I, um, need to call my wife,” Phil said softly.

“Call away. I won’t make a peep,” Rush grinned at his colleague’s discomfort.

“It’s not like that,” Phil said quickly. “Ginny’s a lesbian. It’s a marriage of convenience, for work reasons.”

“Gotcha,” Rush said. “Should we go?”

“Boy, you are fast,” Phil said and put on his Bluetooth.

Once in Phil’s SUV, Rush tried not to listen in on the conversation Phil was having. It must be hard to hide like that. Two people arranging a sham in order to shield their private lives from others. Rush knew he could never do it. He was openly gay at work and it never seemed to affect his reviews or assignments. Of course, he wasn’t half bad at his job so that might have been part of it.

“I’ll call when I know more,” Phil said finally and after saying goodbye tapped the ear bud.

“Okay, so I’ll tell you what I know about it,” Phil said turning to Rush and nodding a quick ‘thank you’ to him.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Seems a state senator from Illinois was up here vacationing, looking at the fall colors or something, and her husband got himself abducted,” Phil explained. “She’s called in favors from all her friends in high places and we’re supposed to be on the scene solving his disappearance.”

“Has there been a ransom demand yet?” Rush asked.

“Not yet, but they expect it any minute now,” Phil said.

“Mmm, no ransom yet? You know, I had an interesting case…”

“We’re supposed to get FACES up there and get the data entered right away this morning. This will be a good chance for you to see how it works.” Phil interrupted. “Damn, if that program hasn’t been the best tool we’ve ever gotten from the feds.”

FACES or “Felony Attributes Compilation of Evidence Software” was the real reason Rush Romer was hanging out in Wisconsin instead of working cases in Minnesota. This program was an analytics/game theory based platform that would take the evidence and run simulations anticipating criminal activity. It could be used to figure out where criminals ran, who did a crime, or even what possible motives there may be. Wisconsin had it. Minnesota didn’t and so they’d sent one tech and one agent to scope out if it was worth the cost. Rush was the lucky agent who’d drawn the short straw. He hadn’t been too happy about it.

Personally, he thought he could read scenes better than any computer program. But, the tech, Lucy, was all for it and his boss wanted an agent who was more critical to check out how it worked. Rush figured if it really did work, he’d probably be seeing an early retirement. Hell, they all would except for the techs.

“Do you really think this program is going to figure out who and where this senator husband’s been taken?” Rush asked.

“You’d be surprised how fantastic it really is. We’ve been so baffled on some cold cases and it led us right to the answers. From there, it isn’t too hard to find the convicting evidence,” Phil said smugly. That’s another thing Rush hated about the program. It made officious asses like Phil look smart.

“Well, this is the perfect opportunity for me to see how it works,” Rush said smiling a big toothy grin. He didn’t mean one lick of it though.

Phil chattered incessantly for the rest of their drive north about all the wonders of FACES. Rush thought the guy must be getting kickbacks, he was such a fan of the product. Rush realized their drunken night had been a monumental mistake. Phil kept touching him and looking at him with goo-goo eyes and it made his sour stomach turn. What cheap scotch will do to a guy?

“Now, when we get there, just watch and learn,” Phil said smiling confidently. “You may know your way around a crime scene but we have to collect evidence differently with FACES. It needs to be entered in a specific order with certain protocols.”

“I wouldn’t dream of messing with your protocols,” Rush smirked. Really, this little prig was getting on his nerves. Why did he always bed the most annoying men?

“I’ll just walk you through the process and you’ll get a front row look at the biggest advance in forensics since the fingerprint,” Phil bragged.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Rush said looking out the window at the gorgeous red sumac, the golden ash, and the resplendent oranges of the oaks and birches racing by. This was the perfect time of year to be in this neck of the woods. The slight bite of the cool air was also invigorating, even if his head still felt like it was filled with sawdust.

They arrived at the scene and it was in the middle of nowhere. Phil jumped out of the car and Rush checked out the surroundings. It was a small cement apron that led down to the waters of Green Bay. There was a mist that covered the water and as the early rays of the sun hit it, shimmers of colors appeared. It was almost mystical with the flaming colors surrounding the area.

Phil was chattering to some other agents, police, and the techs on the scene. One tech had a rolling cart with a laptop on it. No doubt, that was to collect the data and enter it into FACES. Other people were taking photos and standing around with baggies in their gloved hands. Everyone looked expectant and a little chilly. Rush felt himself shiver when he noticed Phil waving him over to the cart.

“You need to see how easy FACES is to use,” Phil began. “It only needs three pieces of data before it starts spitting out possible scenarios.”

“Three piece huh?” Rush said trying to sound interested. Phil had some kind of scanner in his left hand and a manual in the other.

“First we lay out the scene by taking the GPS coordinates of the place using this,” Phil waved the scanning wand around. “Then we put in the pictures of specific elements with a description and item type. For example, I’m taking a picture of this blood splatter on the ground.”

Sure enough, there was a very small dark pool of blood behind two agents on the cement apron. Next to that was a cracked canoe lying on its side with a broken paddle beside it. Rush watched as Phil and the techs carefully entered the information. It was particularly boring to watch.

Rush wandered over to the puddle of blood. It was glistening under the Klieg lights stationed around the perimeter. He thought it looked like a stage and not like a murder scene. Rush walked to the edge of the water and looked over the misty surface. This was like a play with a splatter of blood, an obvious show of violence, and a layer of fog that looked unnatural, almost like a stage with dry ice. He shivered again.

Rush noticed there was a black fence like structure on one side of the boat apron. It was a simple set of metal tubes painted black. He walked over to it and looked at it. Seems a bit of the paint had been scratched off and some rust showed. Huh? Is that rust? Or blood?

“Senator’s here,” Rush heard someone call out. This he couldn’t miss.

Rush followed Phil toward a woman in her late fifties dressed in an overcoat and wearing crocs. She had a scarf over her hair and looked pale and overwrought. Next to her was a young man in a suit, at 5am itseemed odd, but Rush knew political types were rather odd. Phil approached with his hand out muttering his sympathies.

“What do you think happened?” she asked. Her name was Stacy Arnett and she’d introduced the young man as her aid. Apparently he didn’t have a name. He looked harried while Sen. Arnett looked terrified. Rush noticed while almost all her makeup was gone, there were residuals of concealer on her neck.

“We can’t know for sure but it appears this is a crime scene. We’ll need to ask you a few questions and get a DNA sample to determine if this blood is your husband’s,” Phil said opening up a notebook. Rush thought he was being a little hurried because the woman was clearly distraught but figured it wasn’t his place to intrude.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” she said as tears ran down her face. Her aide handed her a tissue and she took it without saying a word to him. The aide didn’t seem to mind though his face was pale.

“First, how did you find out your husband was missing?” Phil asked.

“I got a call early this morning on my cell phone. All the caller said was, ‘we’ve got him and you’ll pay to see him again,” she said holding out the said phone.

“Was it a man or a woman’s voice?” Phil asked.

“It was put through some machine that made the voice sound artificial,” the senator said. “I couldn’t tell. You see, Martin was in the habit of getting up in the wee hours of the morning and exercising. He had trouble sleeping and that would wear him out so he could get some rest.”

“What time did he leave your suite?”

“We have a cabin at The Meadows right up the road here. I think he slipped out around two am or so. I can’t be sure because I barely woke up. I’m used to his nocturnal wanderings,” she sniffled and the aide handed her another tissue then extracted the sodden, shredded one from her hand without comment.

“What time did this call come in?” Phil asked scribbling furiously.

“It’s on the phone,” she said and gestured toward the handset. “I don’t know exactly. I was half-asleep at the time.”

Phil checked the incoming call log and said, “Says three thirty this morning. Does that sound right?”

“I suppose so,” she said blowing her nose and wiping her cheeks. Rush thought the aide seemed a bit fidgety though that wasn’t uncommon.

“You called the police right away?” Phil asked and looked at the outgoing calls.

“I called Tyler first. He said he’d call the police. I was quite frantic,” she said. Apparently the aide’s name was Tyler as he was the one nodding. He offered Phil his own cell which the agent took and checked the outgoing calls.

“You called at three thirty five this morning,” Phil said. “Okay, so what do you think may have happened Sen. Arnett?”

“It must be some madman who captured Martin and is going to demand a ransom,” she shrugged. It seemed rather implausible to Rush a random crazy person would kidnap this guy and know his wife’s phone number, but he just listened.

“This scene has some signs of a struggle so I doubt it was a single person,” Phil said gesturing toward the broken canoe, paddle and the blood splatter. Rush noticed the senator shuddered at the scene and the aide just looked curiously. “I’m guessing when you get a ransom demand it will be from a highly organized, well planned operation involving several people. First, we need some background information. What brings you to Door County?”

“This was a kind of working vacation for us,” the woman sniffled again. “Martin was going for a big public housing construction bid and this was where they wanted to do it. I get away so little I brought Tyler along so I could work while Martin was busy and then we’d have nights to ourselves.”

“Building trades huh?” Phil said scratching something on his notepad.

“Really, officer, Martin was an above the board contractor not some shady hustler,” the senator seemed miffed by Phil’s reaction.

“I’m sorry ma’am but we need to look into all leads,” Phil said officiously. It was obvious the woman was indignant at the innuendo. He didn’t seem to care. “Do you know if there have been any threats against him lately or if he has any enemies?”

“Of course not,” Sen. Arnett huffed. “Martin was a respected member of the community, as am I.”

“Um,” Rush heard Tyler, her aide interjected. “There was Mr. Morgan’s little dustup. You should tell them about it.”

“That was just an old rooster puffing up his feathers. I can’t believe Harry would do anything about it.”

The aide was looking at his boss with a little annoyance. Rush saw her blush slightly and then turned to the other agent.

“The contract was a pretty big one and a competitor of my husband’s was pretty angry he hadn’t landed it. Some heated words were exchanged but we’ve known the guy for many years. He’d never do anything about it,” she said shaking her head.

“I believe Mr. Morgan’s exact words were, ‘You will pay for this Martin. This is the last time you cheat me out of a contract. You’re a dead man,” Tyler said and Rush watched as the senator gave him a thunderous look. The aided didn’t back down. He just looked at Phil and Rush with a slight smile on his face.

“Okay, as I said, we’ll pursue all leads,” Phil said and looked from the aide to the senator. “Any other sworn enemies?”

Both the senator and aide shook their heads. They both looked down and Rush was again struck by a sense of how artificial this all felt though he couldn’t understand why.

Phil gestured to Rush and began walking away. “Just a second,” Rush said putting a hand up. “I got a couple of questions for the senator.”

An angry storm cloud crossed the agent’s face but he nodded to Rush.

“First of all, let me tell you how sorry I am for this situation. It’s gotta be difficult to deal with this,” Rush said and spread out his hands.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get my husband back safe and sound,” the senator said and lifted her chin.

“Good, then where were you last night?” Rush asked. “What were you and your husband doing?”

The senator flushed for a second and then answered, “We went to dinner at Maestro’s here in Ellison Bay. We’d never been but they’ve had rave reviews so we decided to try it.”

“Excellent. One other question. Are you an avid gardener?” Rush asked. The look on the senator’s face was one of shock. She looked to her aide who looked more closely at the agent. His look was guarded while hers was perplexed.

“I have several gardens at our home in Illinois though I have help in to keep things looking nice. Why?” she asked and Rush noticed her terror seemed to have abated, replaced by confusion and questioning.

“I just noticed you wearing those crocs,” Rush said. “Usually people wear them for gardening, that’s all.”

“I find them comfortable in the woods,” she said squinting at him. Tyler was also looking at Rush with a bit of wonderment, yeah, that was the word. Wonderment.

“That’s all,” Rush said. He walked with Phil over to the computer where the techs were entering information.

“How’s it going?” Phil asked reopening his notebook and scanning the pages.

“We’ve got the scene going well. Are you ready to enter the witness info yet?” a rather tired looking young woman with a pony tail of rich chestnut hair asked the agent. It was curious that a blonde would dye her hair brown but it seems women always wanted something different. Blondes wanted to be brunettes and vice versa.

“Yeah, let me get some of this into FACES,” Phil said.

“Don’t forget to include the canoe is bone dry,” Rush said. Phil looked up and shrugged.

“Okay, but it has been several hours,” Phil said. Rush just pointed at the keyboard until Phil entered that bit of information.

“Oh, and have the techs do a swab of that metal thingy over there,” Rush added. Phil looked over at the black metal boat guard.

“Find something on it?” Phil asked.

“Maybe. Never can tell when it’s kind of rusty,” Rush said and looked over at the local police who were busy trying to settle down an older man. “Who’s that?”

“That’s the guy who found the blood this morning. He’s a local wacko,” the brunette tech said smiling at Rush.

“Aren’t we going to talk to him?” Rush asked Phil. Phil was busy and brushed Rush away with his hand.

“In a minute,” the other agent said distractedly. “I want this entered first.”

Rush wandered over to where the older man was talking to the local cops.

“I’m telling you, there was a white haired guy in a boat throwing garbage into the lake. That’s what woke me up this morning,” the man pleaded to a tall scruffy officer in blue.

“Marlon, you are always calling in these things. You were probably asleep and dreamed it,” the cop tried shushing the old man.

“I don’t sleep well and it was hearing the splashes that made me come out and find the blood on the boat ramp,” the man said. “I saw the killer and he was wearing a deerstalker hat and a herringbone coat. He was in a boat right in front of my porch.”

“So, Sherlock Holmes was throwing garbage into the lake,” another officer chuckled.

“No, it was a white haired man and he threw things into the lake,” the old man threw up his hands. “I didn’t imagine it.”

“Was the white haired man close to your shoreline?” Rush asked once he’d come closer to the little group.

“He was. He was right there by my porch and he was splashing the water with his oars. I saw him dump stuff into the lake,” the old man looked up at Rush with relief. “I’m not making this up.”

“Marlon, get a grip, please. We’ll take a statement,” the tall cop said and pulled out a pad. He shook his head as the old man described what he’d seen. Rush watched as the old man told his story. Another officer sidled up to the agent.

“Don’t believe a word he says,” she cautioned and Rush could smell apples coming from her hair. “He’s always making up wild tales and calling us up. Chances are, he saw nothing but after finding the blood, he began imagining things. He does that.”

“Is he dangerous?” Rush asked. “I mean, would he hurt anyone?”

“Well, he does like to shoot his shotgun above the water at people who come too close to his shore,” she said. “We’ve warned him about it but he denies doing it.”

“Okay, thanks,” Rush said and saw Phil was finally approaching them with his trusty notebook at the ready. He also saw the senator’s aide was looking at them. Tyler looked away and then over at the techs still entering information into FACES.

“I’ve got Mr. Wilson’s account Agent Crowley,” the tall cop said putting a couple of pages in Phil’s hand. Rush heard him whisper, “For what it’s worth.”

Rush looked at Phil who smiled at the officer and took the pages. The two agents nodded and headed back to the computer where the techs continued entering data into it.

“Put this statement into FACES but mark it ‘Possible,” Phil muttered. Turning to Rush he said. “We have different categories for witness accounts. Physical data is entered as “Concrete” while eyewitnesses are given “Probable” or “Possible” weights. The program can then determine the weight of said evidence.”

Once again, Rush was struck by how annoying Phil’s explanations were. He shrugged off the feelings and asked him what was next on the agenda.

“Let’s talk to this Harry Morgan fellow and some of the others at The Clearing. We need to check alibis and establish the timeline for FACES to work best.”

‘I’m guessing there won’t be a ransom demand,” Rush said softly.

“Why do you say that?” Phil asked, looking with a surprised look at the agent.

“Just a hunch,” Rush said and he started walking toward Phil’s SUV.

The two agents didn’t speak during the short drive north to the resort. Both were lost in thoughts about what they had just taken in at the crime scene. Rush was wondering about the white haired guy and Phil about the argument the day before. Phil also wondered if the suspect Harry Morgan looked anything like the actor Harry Morgan from TV’s ‘MASH.’

They both found out quite quickly.

Harry Morgan didn’t look anything like Colonel Potter, except for a head of snow-white hair. Instead, Harry Morgan the contractor looked like a mob thug with a greasy, olive complexion and a scar running down one cheek. Morgan looked at the two agents with contempt and disgust as they’d introduced themselves after finding the right cabin.

“I don’t know what you want, but I’m packing to leave this hell hole,” he’d snorted after they introduced themselves.

“We just wanted to ask about a conversation you had with Martin Arnett yesterday,” Phil said with a clipped tone to his voice.

“I told the motherfucker off you mean,” Morgan almost shouted. “He got his two-bit whore of a wife to back him and he stole my contract. I hope there’s a special place in hell for him.”

Phil looked shocked at the man’s words, but Rush just smiled.

“Any reason to believe he’s there now?” Rush asked.

“Why? What is this about?” the white haired dragon asked, his face reddening.

“We have reason to believe Mr. Arnett was abducted early this morning,” Phil said. “Do you know anything about that?”

Morgan opened the door wider and waved them inside. On the bed was a suitcase with clothes piled in it. Rush looked over the clothes and next to it was a herringbone coat. The agent looked over to the dresser and perched on top was a deerstalker hat. Phil followed Rush’s eyes and put his hand on his weapon.

“We have some questions for you about your outburst yesterday.”

“Listen, I hate the guy, he’s a cheat and a thief but I don’t know anything about abduction,” the man said. He no longer looked like a mobster but more like a frightened old man. He’d even slouched a little making his height look less daunting. Rush stepped to the side and touched his own weapon. There was still the look of a trapped rat in the guy’s eyes.

“We need you to tell us about that conversation and where you were last night and early this morning,” Phil said watching the man carefully.

“Don’t worry. I don’t have a weapon,” the man said nodding toward both agents whose hands were in defensive mode. “I’ll answer whatever I can. Fuck!” he then exclaimed.

Morgan admitted to saying the words and threatening Martin Arnett and then told both agents about his evening. He’d gone to dinner at the Starlight Lounge with other investors who’d also lost out. He’d come back to the cabin, alone, at around midnight. Morgan swore he’d never do anything to hurt his adversary. It was a classic story and Rush could tell Phil was suspicious.

“Don’t even think of leaving today Mr. Morgan. I’ve got local police sitting outside The Clearing right now. We need you for further questioning,” Phil concluded the interview. The man had agreed and was quite meek by the time the two agents left.

“I think we have our abductor,” Phil said getting into his SUV. “Right down to the Sherlock Holmes outfit.”

“Maybe,” Rush said. “We should see what your computer program says though. I have a feeling this isn’t as cut and dried as we think. Pull in there,” Rush said.

Phil looked to where Rush was pointing and it was Maestro’s, the restaurant the senator and her husband had eaten at the night before. He turned into the parking lot and looked at his watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. “Did you want to eat lunch or something?”

“No, just want to ask the manager a question,” Rush said cryptically.

“I doubt they know the Arnetts. Sounds like last night was the first time they’d ever been there.”

“Not surprising. Just humor me, okay?” Rush said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Sure,” Phil said and both agents got out of the car. Phil couldn’t help but appreciate the big, beefy look Rush had going on. God, he hoped he’d get another chance with the guy. He had legs like pistons.

Rush knocked on the door and after a moment, a face appeared in the window. They heard a faint, ‘not open yet.’ Rush held up his shield and the face backed up and the lock unclicked then the door opened.

“What’s going on?” a squirrely little woman with buck teeth and artificially black hair asked.

“We just need to speak with the manager who was working last night. Is he or she here?” Rush asked.

“No. Glen doesn’t work until tonight. I can give you his phone number. You’re police right?”

“We are with the Wisconsin Department of Criminal Investigation working with the local police,” Phil said and Rush cringed.

“Oh, just a minute and I’ll get Glen’s number,” the skittish woman said letting them into the lobby.

“Wait, is there anyone working right now who was here last night?” Rush asked the woman.

“Yeah, most of the lunch staff works double shifts during the fall. I think Alice, Ray, and Trey were all here last night. Let me get them and then I’ll get Glen’s number,” she said and set off speaking to three people all arranging things on the restaurant’s tables. One woman, a man, and a young guy all hurried over to them.

“Okay, just a couple of questions,” Rush said smiling at each one of the startled wait staff. “Which one of you waited on a state senator from Illinois last night?”

Phil looked over at Rush, confused. How would they know?

“Um, I know I did,” the youngest man said raising his hand and looking sheepishly at both agents. “I waited on this couple and she said she was a senator from Illinois.”

“Thanks. I’ll just need to talk with you then, what’s your name?” Rush asked and stepped closer to the guy. Phil could see Rush had exchanged his pleasant smile for a flirtatious one and was turning on the charm with 100 watts of power.

“So, she mentioned she was a state senator?” Rush asked moving into the waiter’s space.

“Yeah, she said it like ten times or something. Her husband was pretty cool though. He left me a $50 tip.”

“That was nice. So, describe this couple.”

“She was probably around fifty or so with big, sculpted hair, colored brown. I could tell it was colored because I could see the white roots. He was tallish and had big puffy white hair. The guy looked a little younger I think but it was hard to tell. They were seated over in that corner booth and at night it’s pretty dark.”

“Really. Interesting. Did they seem pretty normal, happy? Were they talkative?” Rush asked.

“They seemed pretty cozy but stopped talking to each other when I’d come by,” the waiter said, thinking back.

“Is there anything about them that seemed off?” Rush asked.

“I don’t know. It was just an old couple who were kind of giddy or something. Anyway, I didn’t hear anything. I’m not an eavesdropper or nothing,” suddenly the waiter seemed shyer than anything else. “Is this about the disappearance up the road?”

“Possibly,” Rush said. “Good job on the description. Anything else that seemed a little weird? Like about the guy?”

“Listen, I think we’ve got what we need,” Phil said grabbing Rush’s arm. “I see what you were looking for here.”

“It was so unreal,” the waiter said as Phil dragged Rush away and out to the SUV.

“So we know who did it?” Phil said excitedly as they drove out of the parking lot.

“Not yet,” Rush said. “We’ve still to run FACES before we know for sure.”

“That program is going to point us right to Morgan and the senator,” Phil said.

“Possibly. That is a definite possibility, though I doubt it,” Rush said and looked out the window as they raced back towards the crime scene.

They never did stop at the boat apron. As they drove up, they could see the last of the techs and local cops were clearing the scene. An officer told them to head down to Sturgeon Bay because that’s where they were headed. Phil turned around and headed out of Ellison Bay south along the coast of the bay.

Rush was looking out his window as all the lovely colors of autumn slid past them. He was looking for something in particular, something specific. As they rounded a turn heading toward Sister Bay, he saw what he was looking for; at least he hoped he was right.

“Turn in there,” Rush pointed to his right. Phil slowed and pulled onto a dirt path surrounded by golden grass. Off to the right was a fallen down barn, weathered gray, and collapsed into itself.

“What did you see?” Phil asked. “This is just an old abandoned farm site.”

“That’s what I’m looking for, a dump site,” Rush said. “See those tracks up ahead. Now, why would there be tire tracks leading to a broken down barn?”

Phil grunted and stopped the car. Both agents climbed out and walked next to the crushed grass that ran in parallel rows, at about axle length. As they neared the wrecked building, Rush pulled out his big Maglite and turned it on. He got on his hands and knees and looked. Phil couldn't help but appreciate the view in spite of their mission. After a few sweeps of the light, Phil heard Rush bark.

“Get those techs and cops here quick. I’ve found Martin Arnett.”

The scene became even more active and animated than it had at the boat slip.

Rush calmly watched the proceedings and waited until Phil had finished entering the info into FACES. By this time, it was late afternoon and everyone was bone tired from the long day. They’d found a scene, investigated it, and found the body of the deceased. But, Rush wouldn’t budge until Phil ran the program.

“I don’t know why we’re doing this right now but okay,” Phil said, his exasperation becoming more evident.

“Just run program,” Rush insisted. “This will solve the murder.”

Rush slipped a piece of paper into Phil’s hand and nodded. Phil moved to open it but Rush shook his head. Phil shrugged and ran the scenarios. The computer buzzed and hissed for about ten minutes and then Phil looked at the screen.

“This is impossible,” Phil said. “I’ve never seen this before.”

“Nothing right,” Rush said.

“It’s saying ‘not enough data.’ It won’t even come up with a single plausible scenario. We’ve put in at least several hundred data points. Is the program working?” Phil said to everyone and no one. The female tech with the ponytail just shrugged.

“No,” Rush said with finality. “It just pointed to the accomplice in Martin Arnett’s murder.”

Phil looked up, puzzled. A ‘huh’ was written across his face but Rush just shushed him.

“I know who the murderers are.”

************************************

Rush had always wanted to do a big reveal like they did in Agatha Christie books and in suspense movies, but in real police work, you had to collect the evidence before it’s destroyed or lost. Quickly, the police and DCI agents found traces of makeup and white wig hairs in the man’s cabin. They found the duplicate herringbone coat, cell phone, and the wig itself in the lake, right where the old man had pointed.

The blood speck on the black boat slip guide was indeed that of Tyler Madsen and after he cracked under questioning the tech had spilled her guts as well. It was an open and shut case and now he just needed to speak with the grieving widow.

“What made you think it was Tyler?” the senator asked Rush, dumbfounded at the news her aide was a murderer.

“I didn’t, not at first. I only knew things weren’t as they appeared. I was struck by how contrived and staged the scene was. Everything just seemed like it was deliberate misdirection, like in a play. Someone said ‘it was so unreal’ and that’s the impression this whole thing gave me.

“When there was no ransom demand, I realized this was a botched operation and that meant one thing; your husband was dead and the culprits had panicked. I knew the murderers would have to dump the body somewhere close where nobody would look. When I saw that collapsed barn so close to the boat slip, I figured that would make the perfect place. I guessed right,” Rush explained.

“But why?” the widow asked. “Why would Tyler do this to Martin? He’s always liked my husband.”

“If I were you, I’d audit my campaign coffers and fast. It’s usually about money and I think he’d been skimming and needed to pay it back. The ransom was to pay off and hide the money. I’m only speculating but it seems pretty likely,” Rush rubbed his face. He needed a shave.

“Why did that tech get involved? What did she have against Martin?”

“She’s admitted being in love with Madsen. He somehow sweet-talked her into helping him. The minute that FACES came back with no predictions, I knew it had to be an inside job. Phil has worked with it enough; there is no way it should have come up with nothing at all.”

“So, they went to dinner after Martin and me advertising the fact a state senator from Illinois was there. Why’d they do that?” she asked softly.

Rush looked at her with compassion. He really didn’t want to make this worse for her. “They wanted you and Morgan as suspects. It was to make the police think you and Harry were trying to get rid of Martin.”

The senator looked tired, defeated and if he were another kind of man, he’d have hugged her. But he couldn’t. He shook her hand and she thanked him but there was no heart in it. Sure, it was a mystery solved but now a poor, widowed woman would have to figure out how to make sense out of it. In the end, mysteries are sad affairs. There are loved ones gone, empty spaces to fill in the survivors’ lives, and the guilty are left to rot in the darkness of their failed ventures.

Rush only sometimes wished he was in another line of work. Unfortunately, this was all he was good at.

Oh, and line dancing at Buck’s every Tuesday night, when he could make it.