Chasing a Blond Moon(121)
“Do I look like I’m carrying?”
“I’m just following the rules,” Service said.
“That’s harassment,” Private said. Her color was red and it was showing through the layers of pancake.
“Are you carrying?”
“You gonna strip-search me?”
“If we do that and discover you’re carrying, you’ll have a problem.”
Midge Private grabbed Spurse’s thick arm. “Let’s go,” she said. “Nazi,” she said over her shoulder.
Spurse grabbed the rest of the cookies and stuffed them into his mouth as he waddled to catch up with her.
“She’s a little touchy,” Romy said as the van pulled away. “Does Lis really have pictures of them?”
“My lips are sealed. Your camera was on, right?”
“The whole time.”
Romy handed the tape to him as they walked inside. Service went into the office kitchen, washed the cookie dish and set it aside to drain, threw away the paper cups, put the milk and sugar away, and set the plastic coffee urn on the break table.
The captain came in and dug through the Pecan Sandies bag on the counter. “What’s their angle this time?”
“Baiting rules. She claims to have a Lansing directive.”
“Undoubtedly she does,” the captain said. “Is she going to blast us?”
“Not with what she got today,” Service said.
Vince called a few minutes after five. “Paraffin was positive for nitrates, prelim tox results tomorrow,” he said.
“Was a weapon recovered from the vehicle?”
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
“Tell your M.E. friend that Delta County will be in touch, and tell her thanks.”
“Delta?”
“This is more than a simple accident.”
Simon called a few minutes later. “I just pulled out of Kitella’s. He was home all day yesterday. He’s on Vicodin and can hardly move.”
“Witnesses?”
“His girlfriend and his daughter say they were with him the whole time. What’s up?”
“Outi Ranta was shot last night in her home. Mary Ellen Fahrenheit was killed in a vehicle accident at Cedar River last night. I was at Ranta’s. It first looked like a suicide, but it wasn’t. There was a revolver and the paraffin was negative on both her hands. I just talked to Vince. The M.E. in Menominee got a paraffin positive on Fahrenheit.”
“Geez,” del Olmo said. “What more can I do to help?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll call when I know something.”
Service called undersheriff James Cambridge at the office. “James, it’s Grady Service.”
“Yes?”
“There was a fatal vehicle accident in Menominee County last night. The vick’s name is Mary Ellen Fahrenheit. The M.E. down there is Dr. Blaize Jenner.” He spelled the name for him. “Outi Ranta was involved with Fahrenheit’s husband. The doctor did a paraffin test on Fahrenheit and it was positive. I don’t know if there was a weapon in the vehicle.
“What’s the DNR doing in County business?” the undersheriff challenged.
“We’re not in your business,” Service insisted. “I assisted a Wisconsin warden in arresting the vick’s husband and his friend for illegally taking bears in Iron County. We interviewed the wife during the investigation and the warden called me to tell me about the accident. I asked Vince to ask the M.E. down there to do the tests—just in case. Outi Ranta admitted she was fooling around with Fahrenheit’s husband.”
“Paraffin doesn’t confirm anything, and why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Do what you want with it, James. I’m just sharing what I know.”
“Jenner, right?”
“The body’s at Bay Med.”
“Okay then,” Cambridge said, hanging up without further comment.
“Okay then,” Service said, putting the phone down. Cambridge was a crab and still bitter over having lost the most recent election for sheriff, but he was close to the end of his career and would be all over this in order to close the case and go out with a feather in his cap. Tonight he would get a photo from Menominee and deputies would be checking around Escanaba and Gladstone to see if anybody had seen Mary Ellen Fahrenheit or her vehicle. Chances were good the answer would be yes.
Why the hell hadn’t the private detective from Grand Rapids called? He dialed her number, got her answering service, and asked for a callback as soon as possible, even if she had no results.
Having left the message his attention went back to the photo of Ollie Toogood. What was the deal with the yearbook?