Dead Rapunzel (19 page)

“She's lucky to have you in her life,” said Osborne. “Sounds to me like
you
are the most stable influence.”

“Kenzie and I have known each other since we were kids,” said Greg. “I know her highs and lows. I know she can be obsessive-compulsive. I know she can be ‘certifiable,' but I also know she is gifted. We work together so well. I . . . just . . . I can't stand right now how she is being treated by her family—and my family.” He ran his fingers over his head in a gesture of frustration.

“My dad is the worst. The way he talks to her sometimes. And don't get me started on Tim. That's one mean SOB. I'd kill him if I could—but then I would be the one to go to jail.” Greg gave a harsh laugh.

“Kenzie told us he abused her years ago,” said Lew. “She said that you intervened—”

“Wait,” Greg looked stunned. “Are you serious? She told you about that? She won't even discuss that with her therapist. How on earth—”

“She was standing with us in the main house when Judith unpacked a box of horrific paintings Tim had sent to Rudd,” said Lew. “She took one look before running off in a panic. Ray caught up with her and brought her back. She was hysterical.”

“Oh, my gosh.” Greg's eyes moistened. “So that's why she insisted on seeing her therapist today. She didn't tell me. Poor sweetie.” Pressing his fingers against his eyelids, Greg took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” asked Lew.

“I will be. Sorry about this. I just get a little upset at times. I'll be fine.” He gave a shaky smile.

“What's with your dad and his rudeness to Kenzie?” asked Osborne.

“It started years ago when she was a kid and he was still the caretaker on the family property. Her mother, Caroline, adored my dad.” Greg raised an eyebrow. “
Adored.
Need I say more? One more reason my parents divorced.

“Kenzie was the only one of the three Tomlinson kids who was close to their father. Philip was a kind, quiet man and he was good to Kenzie. Tim and Sloane have always resented that—and my father, too. I would also say,” Greg hesitated, thoughtful, “I would also say that Kenzie is the one who most resembles her father physically.”

“Tim and Sloane are big-boned, large people,” said Osborne.

“They aren't just ‘big-boned,' said Greg. “They're fat. Fat and mean. Like I said earlier, don't get me started on those two. But Kenzie has always been small like her dad. Easy to pick on, which is what her mother did and what Sloane and Tim still do. Unless I'm around.
I do not let that happen.

“And yet my wife is a kind-hearted person, which makes it easy for people to take advantage of her. Sloane will be rude as hell to her one day, but when Sloane is sick or needs help, Kenzie is there for her. Not so for Tim, though. That damage has been done.”

“Don't you wonder how three people from the same family can be so different?” asked Osborne, knowing it was a rhetorical question. An only child himself, he had often wondered what his siblings might have been like if he had had any.

“Kenzie's therapist once told her that every child in a family has different parents,” said Greg. “That's been true for the Tomlinsons, for sure. That reminds me—you know that crack my father made the other day and in front of everyone? Accusing Kenzie of not taking her meds?”

“I heard that,” said Lew. “Made it sound like your wife is unstable without her medication.”

“On the one hand that's true,” said Greg, adding, “she does need the meds. But she was behaving like any normal person given the circumstances, so why say that in front of people?

“Just so you know—a couple weeks earlier Kenzie let Vern have her car for two whole days,” said Greg. “Then he goes and makes that nasty crack. God, I cannot wait to get out from under that guy. Sheesh.”

“Your father borrowed Kenzie's car? The little red Honda?” asked Lew.

“Yes. He said he was having problems with the brakes on his truck and Kenzie didn't hesitate to let him borrow hers.” Greg's face softened. “That's my Kenzie.”

The front door opened as he spoke. Carried in on a blast of cold air was a slight figure swathed in a long sheepskin coat, her bright eyes barely visible under a colorful scarf.

“Oh, hey there, Chief Ferris and Dr. Osborne,” said Kenzie, looking up as she pulled off her boots. “How come you're here? Don't tell me you found who pushed Rudd in front of that truck?” She stood still, holding her breath.

“No news yet, I'm afraid,” said Lew. “I apologize for dropping in like this, but Dr. Osborne and I have a few more questions for you. One has to do with your Halloween party.”

“Oh?” Kenzie shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto a chair before joining them at the dining room table. “Whew, it is chilly out there.” She blew on her fingers. “What would you like to know?”

“I was hoping you could show us that mask that you were wearing—the old man mask,” said Lew.

“Of course,” said Kenzie, jumping to her feet, “but why would you want to see that?”

“Has to do with the people attending your party,” said Lew, hoping her bluff would work. “Your stepmother was obviously enjoying herself, so I'm checking on a few things including the masks that the people around the table were wearing—and who all was at the party.”

“Oh, okay, then you'll want to see that photo again, too,” said Kenzie. “Be right back. I have all my Halloween decorations put away downstairs.” She jumped up and ran over to a door leading to the basement. Osborne could hear her running down the stairs.

“Kenzie is very organized,” said Greg. “Trust me, she'll have that mask for you in a flash.”

Sure enough, it could not have been more than three minutes before they heard her running back up the stairs. She appeared in the doorway with a large plastic Rubbermaid bin in her arms. Across the front of the bin was scrawled in black Magic Marker the word “HALLOWEEN.” She set the bin on the floor by her chair.

“Alrighty then, let's see what we got here,” said Kenzie, lifting the lid. She reached down to pull out two folded sections of black-and-white nylon fabric. “Ghosts,” she said with a grin. “I hang them in front of the garage.” Next was a white laminated tablecloth covered with black and orange pumpkins. Kenzie leaned over, rifling through paper plates, napkins, and other decorations that filled the bottom of the bin.

“That's odd,” she said. “The mask isn't here. That's very odd.”

“Maybe you have one more container?” asked Greg.

“No, honey, you know I keep all the Halloween stuff in this one. It sits right next to my Christmas ornaments . . . ” She looked puzzled. “Let me think. I know I had it out to clean it.”

She grimaced and gave Lew and Osborne an apologetic look as she said, “When you wear that thing it gets kinda slick with saliva around the mouth area. Too much information, I know, but that's why I remember cleaning it real well before putting it away. Otherwise, next year it would be disgusting. I wiped it off with bleach and then I cleaned that off, too.”

She glanced off toward the wall, thinking. “I'm pretty sure I tucked it right under the ghosts. Darn. I'll keep looking. Give you a call when I find it?”

“I would appreciate that,” said Lew. “Do you mind taking a few more minutes to show us your photo from the party?”

“Oh, sure.”

“I'm confused,” said Greg while Kenzie was in the kitchen getting her iPad. “Why are you so interested in that mask? Or even the Halloween party? Is there some connection with Rudd's death?”

“The young dishwasher at the Grizzly Bear Café told us he saw an old man run past the café window just before Rudd was hit. Since the driver of the logging truck insists that he saw Rudd pushed from behind, I want to find that old man.”

“I still don't see what Kenzie's mask has to do with it.”

“His description of the old man is very similar to the mask. Since the boy gave his mother a more detailed description of what he saw, I'd like to show her the mask. It may help us identify the person once we find him.”

“Are you also saying that maybe the person who pushed her was wearing a mask?”

Lew hesitated before answering. “Could be,” she said. “If Kenzie can buy a mask like that, anyone can. Right?”

“Yes,” said Greg. “Because you cannot possibly think that was Kenzie's mask that the dishwasher saw.”

“Right now, Greg,” said Lew, “I have no idea who might have been wearing such a mask—or even if it was a mask. It's just an odd coincidence that the descriptions match. That's all.”

Greg gave a sigh of relief. “The kid ought to be able to tell you, too. Why ask his mother?”

“Because he's dead.”

“Wait, you're not talking about that young guy who drowned ice fishing? He's the same person who saw someone who might have pushed Rudd?”

“Yes.”

“Whoa . . . ” Greg was speechless.

“Greg,” Lew lowered her voice, “please, this conversation—especially my interest in the mask—is confidential. Understood?”

“Absolutely.” He was still shaking his head when Kenzie walked out of the kitchen with her iPad.

Twenty minutes later, Lew and Osborne thanked Kenzie and Greg for their time. “Sorry I couldn't find that mask for you, Chief Ferris,” said Kenzie. “I'll let you know the minute I find it.”

“When you do, I want you to call me right away,” said Lew. She scribbled her cell phone number on a page from her notebook and handed it to Kenzie. “This is my personal cell and you'll reach me without going through dispatch.” Kenzie took the note, folded it, and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans.

As they dashed for Lew's cruiser, Lew and Osborne tucked their heads down against the wind. “Jeez,” said Osborne, “these people live in a wind tunnel.” He was reaching to open the car door when Lew motioned for him to walk around the cruiser to where she was standing.

Kenzie had parked her Honda in front of the garage door and alongside the cruiser. “Take a look, Doc,” said Lew, pointing down. “Don't you think that rear tire on Kenzie's car looks awful low? Does to me.” The floodlight over the garage made the tire easy to see.

“It sure does,” said Osborne. “If you promise to warm up the car, I'll run back and let Greg know they should check on it.”

At Osborne's knock, Greg opened the front door. “Back so soon? Did you forget something?”

“No, no, just want to let you know that the right rear tire on Kenzie's Honda is quite low. She might have a nail in it. Could be dangerous on these icy roads.”

“Thank you. I'll check it right now,” said Greg, reaching for the keys to Kenzie's car, which were on a table in the front hall. He pulled on his parka and gloves and followed Osborne out to where Lew was waiting for him.

“You're right,” said Greg. “I better pull the car into the garage and get the spare on. Too late to get it in to the tire shop today, I'm afraid. Thanks for catching it.”

He climbed into the Honda and hit the garage door button. He pulled the car into the heated garage, happy for once they had opted to heat the garage when they were building the house: It would be no fun changing that tire in the bitter cold. He decided to tackle changing the tire the next morning.

As they started the drive back to town, Osborne could see Lew's face in the glow from the instrument panel. “You look disappointed, Lewellyn.”

“Not disappointed. Determined.” She kept her eyes on the road. “When Donna and I were talking this afternoon, she mentioned that Chip thought it was odd that the man he saw was not wearing a hat. The neighbor who told Ray about the red Honda parked in front of his house said the car was there a good hour, maybe longer.

“Now who in their right mind with the exception of vain teenage girls doesn't cover their head in this weather? That's why they cancel school. They don't want to risk kids waiting for a bus to get frostbite. Doc, I'm ninety percent sure that if I can find that mask, I will have found at least a connection to the person who pushed Rudd Tomlinson in front of that logging truck.”

“You don't really believe that could be Kenzie?” Osborne was taken aback.

“I'm not going to say ‘no' yet. Her frustration at not finding the mask among her other Halloween decorations seemed genuine.”

“I find her to be so frank and open . . . ”

“I do, too. That's why I wanted you with me just now. If she's lying, she's fooled us both.”

“And her husband.”

“One thing I noticed,” said Osborne, “that woman is so well organized—she would have made a great dental assistant.”

“And a clean freak,” said Lew. “Definitely OCD.”

“Lew, it's late and I'm hungry,” said Osborne. “We've been so busy these last few days that unless Mallory went to the grocery store, which I doubt, my fridge is empty. How about joining me for a bite at the Loon Lake Pub and Café?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Lew, “but do you mind if I include Bruce? I know he's staying at the Inn until tomorrow.”

“Fine with me.”

Bruce answered Lew's call immediately: “I'm glad you called, Chief. I was supposed to go out to Ray's tonight, but I know he's planning to entertain that Judith Fordham, too. Hate to cramp his style, if you know what I mean.”

Lew gave a low chuckle. “I do indeed. Meet me and Doc at the Loon Lake Pub and Café in ten minutes.”

Mallory had packed up her briefcase and was about to walk out through the foyer when Judith came down the stairs from the second-floor bedrooms.

“Going home to your dad's place again?” she asked. “Why don't you plan to move in here over the weekend? We have a lot to do over these next months, Mallory.”