The Thanksgiving Trip Page 9

  It was very hard to suppress a grin as Mike continued.

  “Somehow,” he glared at the puppy, who was sitting on his foot and looking at him adoringly, “I managed to get up without slipping again. It was about then that a man came walking down the road with two exceptionally well-trained dogs, making my hellion appear to be even more undisciplined.”

  “He’s just a puppy,” I said. “He’ll learn to resist the urge to chase rabbits and come when he’s called.”

  “I hope so. And Tilly and Titan were total angels, which helped me save face. Anyway, this man and his two dogs came walking down the road. Leonard ran right up to him, and he said his name was Walton Young and he lived two doors down from this house on the west side of the lake. He’d been out of town and had just returned last night. We walked together for a while and chatted along the way. It seems he hadn’t heard about Doug Peterman, so I filled him in with the information I was certain was public knowledge. I mentioned that several folks had talked about strange things going on when the Techucom folks were in town, and that more than one person suspected Peterman had seen something he shouldn’t have. Young was doubtful, so I mentioned the panel trucks and strange lights at the house, and he said the trucks were used to transport lasers and large telescopes. He didn’t know what Techucom might be doing with lasers, but they seemed to be doing it at night.”

  “We know they do stealthy government stuff,” Bree said. “If they were doing something with lasers it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “And Young said the panel trucks left with the lasers a couple of days after they arrived. Lasers and giant telescopes are a bit out of the norm for this area, but in Young’s opinion, there wasn’t anything going on here that would result in Peterman being shot.”

  “Did he have an opinion on why he was?” I asked.

  “No, but he said Peterman didn’t always get along with all the people in the area. Young went out of his way not to finger anyone specifically as being a suspect, but he did mention Hans Goober, who has an active imagination and was telling everyone Peterman had stolen his map. I didn’t mention that we’d found a map. Young also said Goober has seen the Techucom men shooting off the lasers late at night and was convinced they were aiming at aliens, that the other locals were under attack and needed to defend the area. There were some who tried to explain there were no aliens, and the Techucom team was doing some sort of test or experiment, but he didn’t believe them. The guy sounds like a real nutcase and owns a rifle, so I suggested Young call Holderman to fill him in on what he knew. He said he would.”

  “Did this Walton Young have any other theories?” Mom asked as she slipped a baking pan into the oven.

  “He did say Peterman and his wife had been having problems, and that it was his understanding she wasn’t just visiting her sister but that she had taken the kids and moved in with her after she found out he’d been having an affair. According to Young, the woman Peterman was sleeping with was also married. It was Young’s opinion that the husband of this woman might have found out that Peterman was sleeping with his wife and taken matters into his own hands.”

  “That sounds like as good a motive as any,” Mom said.

  “Young seemed to know who Peterman had been having the affair with but didn’t say. What smells so good? I’m starving.”

  “Egg pie. Why don’t you go out to tell Tony that breakfast is almost ready, and then both of you can wash up.”

  ******

  After breakfast, I made good on my intention and did the dishes. Tony volunteered to help me, so Mom, Bree, and Mike went into the living room. While we ate, we’d discussed the side dishes Mom was considering putting together, so I figured once we finished cleaning the kitchen, we’d end up messing it up again, but it was a good idea to at least start off with a clean space.

  “What do you think about the idea that Doug Peterman was having an affair?” I asked Tony.

  “It makes a better motive for murder than any of the others we’ve explored, but it leaves unanswered questions too. Like why did he come back out to the house after he was in town? Why did he flee, assuming he did try to escape through the window? Where’s his truck? It sounds as if he drove it to the lake, and it was seen parked in front of the house, so where is it now?”

  “I wonder if looking for the truck might be a good next stage of investigation,” I said. “Find the truck, find the killer.”

  “Maybe, but how do we find the truck?”

  “If the truck is new, it could have a GPS system. If it doesn’t, it seems reasonable that someone noticed it drive by on the way to and from the house. The road around the lake isn’t busy. Headlights would be something someone might take notice of.”

  “If the person who killed Peterman drove his truck away, what did they do with their own vehicle?” Tony asked.

  “Maybe they didn’t have one. Maybe they were already here. Or maybe the killer came to the lake with Peterman.”

  Tony lifted a brow. “Do you care to elaborate?”

  “Maybe Peterman was in town, chatting with various people, and struck up a conversation with someone, which led him to come back here. Maybe that someone came with him. At some point, Peterman realized that person wished him ill and tried to flee. The person shot him and then drove the truck back to town.”

  “Seems a bit far-fetched; possible, but unlikely. It does make me wonder about the gun. We know Peterman was shot. If he was shot here at the lake, why didn’t the residents closest to this end of it hear anything?”

  “Good question,” I answered.

  “Is it possible Peterman was shot elsewhere, then brought here and dumped in the water?”

  “It’s possible, but it wouldn’t explain the window.”

  “What if the open window has absolutely nothing to do with the murder? What if he opened it when he was cleaning but forgot to close it? What if the screen was off because he removed it to wash the window? Or maybe someone from Techucom removed it and Doug never got around to putting it back. Maybe Peterman remembered the window was still open after he’d gone to town and that was why he returned?”

  “Then why was the door to the conference room locked?” I asked.

  “Maybe it happened accidentally. I have no idea, but I think it might be a good idea not to get too locked in to the theory that he opened and escaped out that window.”

  “Okay, so if not how, it seems we’re back to why. Things just aren’t adding up. I feel like we’re missing something. We have theories about why Peterman might have come back and theories about why the window might have been open, but there are too many unknowns for a solution to be anywhere in sight.”

  “Again, I’m going to suggest this isn’t our murder to solve. Officer Holderman is working on it. This is his home ground. He knows the players in a way we can’t. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I say we take a step back and let him do his job while we spend a nice holiday with your family.”

  “You’re right. It would be nice to just relax.”

  Of course, just relaxing was going to be harder than I thought with Mike involved in the investigation. I was just wiping down the counters when he came in to let me know he’d spoken to Holderman about his conversation with Walton Young, and the officer had some concerns about it. He wanted to speak to Mike in person, so Mike volunteered to go into town and Bree went with him. That left Tony and me to help Mom with the rolls, pies, and sides, though there was only so much room in the kitchen, which was probably for the best anyway.

  “It’s snowing again,” Tony said as he diced apples.

  “It’s pretty,” I said, and glanced at the cheery fire. “And cozy.”

  “I’m enjoying things,” Mom said, “although I’m sorry Mike keeps getting pulled away to work on the murder case. I realize he’s a police officer and getting pulled away comes with the territory, but he’s on vacation. I hoped he would be able to relax.”

  “I guess it’s hard not to bring who you are with you when you venture a
way from home. Are you thinking one or two pumpkin pies?”

  “Two. Everyone will want pie with the leftovers. I planned to make two pumpkin and two apple.” Mom opened the refrigerator and looked inside. “Oh, dear.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “We’re going to be short on butter if we make four pies.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. “The store will be open in a few minutes. I’ll run down and get some. How much do you need?”

  “Maybe two pounds.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Tony said, untying his apron. “Do you need anything else?”

  Mom adjusted things inside the refrigerator. “You might want to grab some eggs and milk as long as you’re there. I doubt the store will be open tomorrow, and I’d hate to run short.”

  Tony and I bundled up and headed out to his truck. The drive to the camp store would be slow with all the snow, but I didn’t mind, though the way the road wound away from the lake along the eastern shore made it almost quicker to walk when the weather wasn’t bad.

  “It looks like the storm is starting to break up. At least temporarily. We should take the dogs for a long walk if it does. It might be a good idea to work off some of their energy just in case the weather turns bad again.”

  “I’m game,” Tony said. “It’s been nice spending time with your family, but I feel like I have some excess energy to burn as well.”

  “With all the wood you’ve chopped, I’m surprised you aren’t exhausted.”

  “I guess living and working alone, you get used to the quiet. There hasn’t been a lot of that while we’ve been here. Not that I’m not having fun. It’s just that a walk would be nice.”

  The lights were on inside the store, indicating it was open when we pulled up. Tony parked near the entrance and we piled out and walked to it.

  “Afternoon, folks,” Conrad Bilson said as we went in.

  “Afternoon,” I replied.

  “Did you notice the sign that says the store will be closed tomorrow and Friday? I’ll be open on Saturday, though.”

  I nodded. “I saw. Are you going somewhere for the holiday?”

  “My daughter lives in town. I usually spend Thanksgiving with her family.”

  I smiled. “That’s nice. Family is important.”

  “It is, and mine is the best. My girl has an open-door policy to anyone who needs a place to go. I usually take one or two people from the lake with me.”

  “Who are the lucky men this year?”

  “I’ve invited Tom Flanders. He’s recently separated and could use the company. I also invited Luke Conners. I’m not sure whether you’ve met him. He lives in the little cabin about halfway up the road on the west shore of the lake.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think we’ve met him.”

  “He’s a nice guy. A little down on his luck, but a nice guy.” Bilson glanced away from me and cleared his throat. “Listen, as long as you’re here, I have something I wanted to tell you.”

  I walked closer to the counter he was leaning on. “Okay.”

  “When you were in the other day asking about Finn and your father, it caught me off guard. I know I didn’t respond well, but I didn’t have time to think and I guess I panicked.”

  “So you do know something,” I prompted.

  He nodded. “It’s a secret I’ve kept for a long time. I’m not sure I should be telling it now. Maybe it’s the holiday that’s making me sentimental, but I’ve asked around a bit, and from what I’ve been able to find out, it seems you’re pretty intent on getting your answers.”

  “I am.” I wanted to snap at him to hurry up and say it already, but I knew I needed to be patient if I wanted him to continue. “I’ve been looking for answers about my father’s death for years. If you know something, it would mean the world to me if you’d share it with me.”

  “I don’t know everything,” he warned. “I’m not even sure what I know is the truth. But after Finn was shot, your dad and I shared a bottle of scotch to commemorate a man we both knew and respected, and secrets were shared.”

  I could physically feel my heart quicken. “I’m listening.”

  Conrad Bilson cleared his throat. “It seems your dad was living something of a secret life. I don’t know all the details, but apparently he was in the witness protection program at some point. I don’t know what he’d seen. I don’t know when he entered the program, and he never said who he was before that, but he did say that the one rule he’d absolutely been sworn to was never to tell anyone the truth about his past, and even more importantly, he was to cut all ties to it. That night, it was that rule he admitted he’d broken. It was something he regretted doing.”

  Witness protection had been my first guess after we’d learned what we had about my dad, but it was still surprising to hear someone say it out loud. And I was surprised to hear he’d broken the rule. He’d never said a word to us about his past or the people he’d known. “Finn,” I mused.

  Bilson nodded. “He said Finn was the only person he’d hung on to from his old life. He thought it would be fine. He figured they’d meet up here in private and no one would ever find out. But when Finn was shot with a high-powered sniper rifle, your dad knew he’d been wrong. He suspected he was the reason Finn had died.”

  “He must have been devastated.”

  “I’d say Finn’s death hit him hard. I don’t know how he and your dad were connected, but I figured in order for him to make an exception to what seemed to be an important condition of his relocation, Finn must have been very important to him.”

  I was sure Bilson must be right about that.

  “Your dad told me that he was a dangerous man to know. He vowed as we sat under the stars, drinking to Finn, that he was going to cut out of his life everyone who might get hurt because of him. Shortly after that, I heard he was killed in a truck accident. I don’t know if the accident was his way of keeping that promise to himself, but I always wondered.”

  I glanced at Tony. I think we both suspected the accident was to make the man without a past disappear again.

  “Thank you,” I said. “It means a lot to me that you were willing to share this with me.”

  “Bit of advice,” Bilson said.

  “Sure.”

  “If you’ve been going around stirring things up, you might want to stop. If your dad didn’t die—if he chose to disappear to protect you—by looking for him, you’re wiping out his sacrifice by putting yourself in danger anyway. From the little I knew of him, that’s the last thing he’d want.”

  Conrad Bilson was right. That was the last thing he’d want. I had my answer. At least one of them. I had no idea what he was doing now, but I supposed I had enough. Maybe I really should just leave it alone. I thanked Bilson again, and Tony and I went back out to the truck.

  “What do you think?” Tony asked with an obvious tone of caution in his voice.

  “I don’t know. The explanation Bilson provided is something I’d mostly worked out on my own. It makes sense based on everything we’ve learned. And he wasn’t wrong when he said my dad would want me to leave it alone.”

  “I think so too.”

  “Of course, now that we’ve brought Mike in on things, I’ll have to see if he agrees. I think I might be willing to let it go and get on with my life. If Mike feels the same way, of course. If not, I guess we’ll need to talk about things until we can settle on something we all can live with. We’ll talk tonight.”

  “And your mom?” Tony asked.

  “I’ll talk to Mike first, but I think we should tell her. She has the right to know.”

  ******

  Later that evening, after Mom retired to her suite, I told Mike and Bree I had something to talk to them about in my room. As they had on other evenings this week, they grabbed a bottle of wine and met us in the seating area of the suite, near the fireplace.

  “What’s up?” Mike asked.

  “I have news about Dad. It’s kind of
a long story, so let me get through what I know before you say anything.”

  A look of caution crossed Mike’s face. “Okay.”

  I started at the beginning, sharing what Conrad Bilson had said about Dad and Finn and the night they’d shared a bottle in memory of a dear friend. I told them that Bilson didn’t think Dad would want us looking for him, and that after thinking things through, I agreed with his opinion. Then I waited for Mike’s reply.

  When he didn’t speak for a moment, I began to become concerned. When he did speak, his reply wasn’t at all what I was expecting. “What if he is lying?”

  I frowned. “Lying?”

  “What if everything Bilson told you is a lie to try to convince you to give up your search for our dad? What if Dad didn’t disappear voluntarily? What if he was forced? What if he is trapped in some sort of a horrible situation and hopes someone will find him and set him free?”

  I glanced at Tony and quickly saw he was going to let me handle this. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on. The idea of being in witness protection fits everything we know to this point. And from the photos we’ve found since the supposed truck accident, it doesn’t appear he’s being held against his will. It looks like he has the freedom to move around. I know you haven’t had the time I’ve had to process everything, but what Bilson said makes sense.”

  Mike bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair. I could see he was deeply affected.

  I got up and sat down next to him, then put my hand on his arm. “Look, we don’t have to decide anything tonight. Let’s all sleep on it and talk again in a day or two. I’m struggling with whether to bring Mom in on all this, but even if we decide to, I don’t want to do it tomorrow. Tomorrow we’re going to have an old-fashioned family Thanksgiving. Anything else can wait until Friday.”

  Chapter 10

  Thursday, November 22

  There’s nothing better on a cold, snowy day than Mom’s sticky buns, crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, and mimosas next to a roaring fire. Tony had taken the dogs out for a very quick walk, but even they seemed content to sleep by the fire while we sipped champagne and orange juice and coffee and gave thanks for the time we had together.