Free Dead Madonna by Victoria Houston Page B

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 Osborne 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.”
    “One more thing, Carrie,” said Lew, “sometime tomorrow you’ll hear from another one of my deputies. I’ve asked him to do a complete search of the channel and the stream banks leading up from Moccasin Lake. I’m hoping we can determine the exact spot where DeeDee’s body entered the water. Ray Pradt is his name.”
    “Oh, Ray—he is so cute,” said Carrie. “Sure, whatever I can do to help.”
    “He won’t be in the business of being cute,” said Lew. “He’s going to need specific details from both you and your friend Jeremy—where you were standing and walking when you last saw DeeDee and exact times.”
    “Oh, sure,” said Carrie. Then, as if she had something else that she wanted to mention, she paused to study the pavement for a long moment before opening the door to her Honda Civic. Whatever it was, she decided to drop it and jumped into the driver’s seat.
    “Lew,” said Osborne, checking his watch again, “I better leave if I’m going to get to those folks at the Chamber before it gets too late.”
    Just then Juliana flew towards them from the doorway of the house. “Ohmygod, Chief Ferris, that was the bank that just called. DeeDee opened an account last Friday with a check for twenty thousand dollars—and all that money is missing! It was