Winter Kill - lanyon Josh - Страница 9

“Dove Koletar. His parents used to own the cabins down by the lake. Marion sold to Sid Lodi after Roger passed.”

Rob shook his head. Long before his time.

“Dove was…you know,” Frankie said.

Rob guessed, “Not right in the head?”

“Gay.”

Now Rob understood what that meaningful look meant. One of yours. “Same thing in some people’s minds,” he said easily.

Frankie laughed her deep, smoker’s laugh. “Back then for sure. Which is why nobody was surprised when he left town.”

“You mean when he disappeared?”

“No. No, there was no mystery about it. Dove left a letter. I remember that very well. He left a letter for his parents saying he was leaving this hick town forever. I remember that particularly because the ‘hick town’ comment pissed off all us hicks.”

“He was a runaway then?”

“Nope. He would have been in his early twenties. I was about twenty-two, and we were in school together, so he was of legal age. Dove was unhappy, and he didn’t fit in. Nobody was surprised when he left. The surprise was that he waited as long as he did.”

“He didn’t get very far.”

“No, he didn’t.” Frankie looked grim.

“Any further evidence as to how Koletar died?”

Frankie shook her head. “His remains are being transported to Klamath Falls where Doc can conduct a real examination. He’s going to bring in a forensic anthropologist too.”

Rob grunted. Better late than never. He said, “So we’ve got a cold case.”

“It appears so.” Frankie tossed the folder to her desk, and Rob reached over to pick it up. “What happened with the break-in at the museum?”

“Attempted break-in.” Rob opened the file. It was nothing but the preliminary autopsy report and a copy of dental records. His gaze sharpened as he studied the dates on the dental records. “Wait a minute. These are from thirty years ago.”

“Yep.”

“Doc had it wrong then? This guy disappeared thirty years ago?”

“Nothing wrong with your math skills. Now how about the museum break-in?”

“Somebody who didn’t know what he was doing tried to pick the back door lock. When that didn’t work, they tried to kick the door in. That’s when Mrs. Joseph woke up and scared them off.”

“She should have called us last night when it happened. I’m not sure what she thought we could do seven hours later.”

“She said she knew he wouldn’t come back, and she didn’t want to wake anybody up when we wouldn’t be able to see anything till daylight anyway.”

“There’s such a thing as being too considerate,” Frankie said.

“Yeah.” Rob was glad Mrs. Joseph hadn’t called them out in the middle of the night. For a lot of reasons. And the truth was, they wouldn’t have been able to do much till daylight. The kid or kids who’d tried to break in would have been long gone by the time he or Zeke made it over to the museum.

Anyway, the museum was technically on federal land, so any problems were as much the jurisdiction of the park rangers as theirs. Not that there was a surplus of park rangers these days. Not with all those good old government cutbacks.

Frankie frowned, thinking.

Rob said, “They need an alarm on that place.”

“An alarm system would cost more than anything in that museum is worth,” Frankie said, and that was probably true. “You dusted for prints?”

“I tried. Aside from the fact that it was pouring rain for most of last night, a lot of people have touched that lock. I couldn’t get anything usable. I made a cast of the boot prints outside the broken window. Size nine-and-a-half hiking boots, nothing distinct or unusual there.”

Frankie was still frowning.

“What?” Rob asked.

She said slowly, “You know, Robbie, one day you’re going to be Sheriff of Nearby.”

“What? Me? No way.” He felt a genuine stab of alarm at the idea.

“Who then? Zeke? Aggie?” Frankie shook her head.

“It’s not a hereditary title, you know. The city council could hire someone from outside.” He tossed Koletar’s file back on the littered desk.

“They could and they probably will if you don’t step up.”

“Step up?” Rob protested. “How am I not stepping up?”

Frankie’s frown deepened. “Everything is not a joke.”

“I don’t think everything is a joke.” He began to get irritated. “I don’t think there’s anything funny about an attempted break-in. I don’t know if the plan was burglary or vandalism, but I’m not laughing. I tried to get fingerprints. I made a cast of the boot prints.”

Frankie waved a dismissing hand. “I’m not talking about that.”

“Well, what then?”

She shook her head, as though it wasn’t worth answering. “Marion Koletar is living in Klamath Falls now. She needs to be notified.”

He said curtly, “All right.” There was nothing he hated more than a notification run. Having to break that kind of news to a loved one? There was a bright side though. He could probably arrange to meet up with his friend while he was there. Maybe have dinner together. Or better yet, skip dinner altogether.

“I want you to take lead on this investigation.”

“Roger that.” Like there was any question? What the hell had got into her?

“And don’t sulk.”

Now that really was uncalled for. Rob opened his mouth, caught the glint in her beady little eyes, and said instead, “Well hell, Frankie. You’ve already said you knew the victim. I guess maybe I should start by interviewing you.”

Frankie threw her head back and laughed that deep, alarming laugh. “Maybe you should. There’s not a lot I can tell you. Dove wasn’t a friend. He didn’t have many friends. Kind of a loner, like I said. No one was surprised when he took off.”

“What about enemies? You said everybody knew he was gay. Thirty years ago that might not have gone over well with some people.”

Frankie looked thoughtful. “I don’t remember him being bullied in school. Not more than anyone else. Mostly people just left him alone. He was odd. Apart from being gay, I mean.”

Yeah, well that was a convenient way of looking at it. Rob said, “So no friends and no enemies? He was just a ghost?”

She shrugged. “You might say that.”

“You said you went to school together. Was there a school in Nearby back then?”

“Ha! A little red one-room schoolhouse? Is that what you’re thinking? No. Back then the kids up here rode the bus to Klamath Falls same as they do now. We went to Haney Elementary, and then Haney Middle School, and then Haney High School.”

That was a relief. There might be some kind of a lead there. Or at least a hint as to the character of the victim. Who was Dove Koletar? He needed something more than dental records and vague memories. “Okay. I’ll contact the mother and make arrangements to interview her.”

“Good deal,” Frankie said.

* * * * *

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” Marion Koletar said. “I knew Dove was dead. I’ve known for years my boy was dead.”

She was a small, washed-out looking woman with faded hair and faded eyes. Dry eyes. She wasn’t shedding any tears. Her voice was tired, muted; Rob found himself leaning forward to hear better every time she spoke.

It hadn’t taken him long to track her down, but getting her to answer the damn door? That took some doing. He’d tried knocking twice, and then he’d tried leaving a phone message. Finally he’d parked in front of the apartment building where she lived and waited for her to show.

And she looked so different from what he’d imagined that he’d nearly missed her when she had finally strolled up, pushing her shopping cart. He’d been expecting someone older and more affluent. After all, Frankie and Dove had been classmates, and she’d sold the thirty-four lakeside cabins for a small fortune. She didn’t look much more than Frankie’s age, and she didn’t appear to be particularly affluent judging by the contents of her grocery bags. A dozen boxes of Lean Cuisine spaghetti and a two-gallon jug of fruit punch.