Big Noise: A Jo Spence Mystery Page 2
She couldn't forget the time when she had been cornered in an alley by a group of teenaged boys intent on showing her what manly men they were. He had stepped into the alley opening, a silhouette of pure determination.
"Get lost, or I'm taking every one of you out. I mean it!"
The punks had scattered in every direction. Jo could take care of herself in almost any situation, but that night she had wondered if her luck had run out. No matter how many times she rescued Rick, it wouldn't make her feel any less grateful to him for that moment of personal loyalty and courage.
"His girlfriend said he went into the woods and never came out again. She was too strung out and paranoid to report it, though, so he's either in trouble or long gone by now."
"Shit! Where exactly was he last seen?" Her phone went dead again. This time, Nate was the first to get a signal through.
"Listen, Jo. Missing persons isn't really your thing. Maybe I should have waited to tell you when you got back to work."
"No, Nate — this is personal. In spite of his troubles, we really connected. I feel like I owe it to him to try to track him down and see if he needs some help. What's the girlfriend's name and number?"
"Katie Shantree. She's supposed to have family up there. When we picked her up, she was terrified that we were going to transport her back home. Something isn't right there. I'm holding her in detention for the time being, so there's no direct phone number I can give you. Maybe when you get back in town, you could talk to her." Nate hesitated a little too long.
"If you ask around about the Shantrees up there, you'll track the family down. They're infamous in Big Noise. You know the type. Junk cars all over the yard. Half of 'em on probation at any given time. Be careful there, Jo."
Jo nodded into the phone as if he could see her.
"Did you hear me? I said be careful. Her older brothers are likely dealers. For sure, they're criminals of opportunity."
"Oh, don't worry, Nate. I'll keep it low-key."
"Do you know what Rick was into recently?"
"Well, the last time I talked to him, he had a job as a mason."
Nate didn't think he still had that job, not according to his information from the runaway. "Maybe he got into using meth and made the jump to cooking it. If not, maybe he had a bad stretch of using and had enough sense to quit his job before getting fired."
"He's a good guy. I mean, he's a follower, you know? I can't see him getting involved in selling." Jo knew her bias was showing.
"He's stayed in touch with you, hasn't he?"
"Every few months. He calls when he's doing well, or when he's really in trouble. I haven't heard from him in quite a while, though. Maybe six months."
"You can't save 'em all, Jo."
"Just this one?"
"OK, I'll give you this one. How about I talk to our Drug Task Force guys, see if we can find out who his dealer was?"
"Thanks, Nate, I'll owe you one."
"Wait to see what I turn up, then make it a double."
"I'm glad you called. I'll nose around a bit, since I'm up here anyway. Don't worry."
The phone lost its signal again before Nate could dissuade her.
CHAPTER 3
When the morning light came creeping into their loft, Jo opened her eyes to see Zoey looking at her with awe and appreciation.
"What?"
"I need to look at you. You're so beautiful."
Jo managed an embarrassed "Huh?" She had never really thought much about what she looked like. She had always approached her looks with a utilitarian view. She knew she was tall, and strong. She was lean from all of the outdoor activities she enjoyed, and from her healthy love for sports of all kinds, but she never really thought about her looks at all. She'd been told by many people that her short, dark, unruly curls were a gift, and that she had beautiful blue eyes, but she chocked it up to being lucky.
Now, for the first time in her life, Jo felt truly desired. She basked in the hungry, possessive look in her lover's eyes.
Jo took Zoey by the hand and guided her down the ladder and into the main cabin. After building a fire from the previous night's coals, she placed a thick towel in front of the stove. After she had a roaring fire going, she filled a bowl with water from the stove kettle. Then Jo slowly sponged every inch of Zoey, front and back.
Then it was Jo's turn, and she found that she could definitely get used to being so in touch with how her own body looked and felt in Zoey's hands.
Zoey said, "I guess I could live without a shower. Do you think this is how Sandy and Ree stay clean?"
"I dare you to ask them."
They walked over to their hostesses' cabin, comforted in the fact that they had cleaned away any evidence of their lovemaking from the night before and that they were likely to be offered fresh coffee.
As they walked into the "big house," they noticed that it was quite a bit bigger than the guest cabin, and it had an actual upstairs with something in between a ladder and a stairwell joining the two floors.
"Well, it didn't take you two long to settle in, did it?" Sandy chided both of them as they entered.
"Oh, we settled in, all right," Jo said, only to get an elbow in the ribs from Zoey.
"It's only forty miles from Duluth, but it's another world," Zoey mused. She was gawking at the massive log structure. "Is this one of the original homesteads?"
"It is. We feel pretty lucky to have found it. We built the guest cabin and the rest of the outbuildings, but this cabin is original." Sandy led them through the structure and glowed as she told them about her beloved rustic home.
"The logs are tamarack, as are all of the original cabins from the era. This one was built in 1908. The Finlanders who settled here used tamarack because the trees were dying of some tree disease. The Finns are known for their avid environmentalism. It turned out to be a good choice, as you can tell; the logs are still strong." She walked over to touch a log. They all followed suit. "They're scribed to fit together using hand-cut dovetail joints. The joints hold the logs quite well, but they also used sphagnum moss for chinking between the logs — for insulation and to seal the joints." She pointed to a tiny bit of moss visible in a nearby joint.
"Sphagnum moss is still present in the forest today and looks like a green carpet covering the ground. It becomes waterproof when it dries out." She never seemed to lose her delight in talking about the history of the cabin. "We've run across a few other items used to plug holes, such as hankies, socks…even underwear." She raised her eyebrows.
On the walk over, Zoey had noticed a building as large as the size of most two-car garages, built mostly out of slab wood.
"That slab building. It's huge. Is that your woodshed?"
"Yup, the spaces between the slabs serve as draft to dry out the wood, so it can be easily lit and will burn efficiently. That building also houses our four-wheeler with a plow and our garden tractor. We have a separate building — the one closest to your guest cabin — that serves as our garage and shop. We like to call this whole place our 'compound.'"
"You built the screen house and the sauna, too?" Zoey was amazed.
"Don't forget the outhouse."
"Oh, I won't." That brought a laugh to everyone.
"I love the matching green metal roofs. I bet you did that before it was trendy."
"Way before it was trendy."
"We only let friends and family stay in the guest cabin. I think you two fall somewhere in between." That brought smiles all around.
As they settled around the tiny antique kitchen table for a breakfast of sautéed veggies and scrambled eggs, Jo pondered her two loyal and old friends. Having lived in Big Noise, Minnesota, for most of her adult life, Sandy fit the stereotype of a typical local resident, preferring simple country living to plumbing.
Jo mentally took in Sandy across the table from her. Short, muscle-bound, clothing completely style-free, shaved head. Knows everything about everyone in Big Noise.
Then she turned her
attention to Ree, Sandy's long-term partner, who stood in distinct contrast to Sandy, having dark hair that curled wildly about her face and deep blue eyes uncommon to someone with her dark complexion. Quiet, with a dry sense of humor, Ree moved and lived in a stoic intensity that spoke volumes. Ree was wearing her typical L.L. Bean quick-dry pants and probably a Cabela's catalog fleece shirt. Jo laughed inwardly, thinking about Ree's attempt to drag Sandy to the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul to shop for clothes. She had only managed to convince Sandy to add new Carhartt jeans to her wardrobe.
Ree received a significant amount of disposable income as an emergency physician one or two days a week in Two Harbors, so she could afford to indulge Sandy if she had been the least bit interested in new clothing. When Ree wasn't stitching up kids or putting casts on, she ran the ambulance service for Big Noise.
Jo knew from experience, after cutting her hand in the kitchen at home and choosing to go to the Two Harbors ER rather than Duluth's (where she would have had to wait hours to be seen), that Ree was a virtual one-stop shop. On top of her dual role of EMT and physician, Ree served on the Volunteer Fire Department, and Sandy had joined, too. Jo imagined the continuity of care possible if you were in need of an ambulance ride to Two Harbors following a minor injury. Ree would arrive on site, do immediate triage, transport her patient to the ER, and then complete her physician's role there.
Jo, who harbored a harmless crush on Ree, smiled at that thought. She wondered silently how things would play out over the next two weeks in such close living arrangements. She also wondered if this little crush would be apparent to Zoey, and whether she would be at all threatened by it. Jo knew that she often had attractions to people that never went anywhere. Could be she was more tuned in to attractions than most.
They all made quick work of the wholesome breakfast. Jo treasured every second with these friends, as she usually saw them only a couple of times a year for any actual quality time.
After the meal, Sandy and Jo joined forces at the cast iron sink to do the dishes while Ree took Zoey on an outdoor tour of the "compound." Sandy had previously heated up well water in a big pot on the stove.
With a big grin, Sandy asked, "So, how are things?"
Playing with her a little, Jo lifted her eyebrows and spread her hands, saying, "What things?"
Sandy tilted her head, smiled, and waited.
Jo laughed out loud, threw her head back and replied, "Incredible."
Sandy nodded and waited until Jo gave in again.
"I'm totally in love. I don't know really how to explain it, but there's no going back. I'm in this. The physical attraction is intense, but there's much more. I've never felt this way before." She looked at Sandy to see if she understood. Sandy nodded.
"I feel so alive. Like I was just going through the motions before. Why didn't you tell me it was like this?"
"That, my friend, is something that you have to learn for yourself. It can't be taught."
"I think I fell so deeply so fast partly because of what we went through together. I mean, we had a near-death experience! We could have been killed. She was right there with me."
"I heard about that. Was it really as scary as the papers said? A gang-hired hit man after you and all that?"
"It was bad. We went hand-to-hand with him. He ended up tracking us to my house, and we lured him into my dark garage and whacked him with a crowbar. Zoey and I worked together. We saved each other's lives. Who knew they made professors like that?"
"Holy shit!" said Sandy. She was shaking her head. It's not that she didn't believe Jo; the tale just seemed so out there.
As they tackled the dishes, Sandy washed, relegating Jo to drying and stacking.
"Well, you sure seem happy and at ease." She gave Jo a wink.
"This has been easier than any relationship I've ever had. But scarier, too. You know, I never really knew what it could be like." Jo was having trouble finding the words to say what she was still working through in her own mind. "I didn't realize how much I kept to myself before and didn't talk about. How it affected things." Jo gestured with the plate she had finished drying. "I think, in part, it's so easy because Zoey doesn't push me and is patient. But caring this much is new and a little frightening. Thankfully, she knows how to put me at ease. She knows when I'm struggling. I feel so safe with her. Safer than I've ever felt with anyone."
"That's great, Jo."
"Actually, I'm planning to ask her to move in with me."
"Wow, that's a breakthrough! Will she say yes?"
"I hope so. I've been the one carrying the baggage."
"Do you have a sense, an intuition? What's your gut telling you?"
"My gut?"
"Yeah, your gut. You're one of the most intuitive people I know, Jo. I don't think you fully understand what you have there." She pointed to her own gut. "You totally underestimate yourself, my big city friend. Is there a little voice that you sometimes listen to that's always right? You know, like feeling an ominous warning, or a good feeling about something that you're facing? I've seen you do it, Jo. You have that ability." She looked at Jo and realized she was striking a nerve, so she went on.
"For me, I have my head, my heart, and my gut." She pointed to each as she referenced them.
"When I'm thinking about something important, I can see it from about eight or nine different perspectives, and talk myself into how each one is right. My head definitely can't get me there. Then there's my heart. I'm a romantic at heart. I want things to come out a certain way, and I can miss the facts in order to fulfill that heartfelt desire." Jo was nodding, recognizing that she had done the same.
"My intuitive voice is right one hundred percent of the time. The trick is that I have to learn to tune into it. Sometimes I fool myself. I think I'm tuned into my gut, but it's my head doing circles around an issue."
Jo nodded enthusiastically. "I know what you mean. I never thought about it like that before. I think I'm more intuitive than anything else, and well, you know about my head. I get stuck in a groove and play things over and over again. Why haven't we had this conversation before? Man, to think of all of the confusion you could have saved me!"
"Well, I think Zoey's great. I'm happy for you."
"Thanks, Sandy."
Changing the subject, Jo asked Sandy if she had heard anything about a Rick Thomas living in the area.
"A friend of yours?"
"Sort of, he was a former client who seems to be missing. Last known location: Big Noise."
"I don't recall hearing anything about him. For sure, we haven't had any report of a missing person at the Rescue Squad. What does he look like?"
"Five-ten, a hundred sixty-five pounds, blondish hair, probably on the long side. He might have been using drugs and hanging out with a young woman."
Jo looked up to see Zoey standing in the doorway.
"What's this about?" Zoey looked mildly concerned.
"It's a guy I know — Rick. He went missing near here. I need to dig into what happened to him. He was one of my kids, you know?"
"One of your kids?"
"He almost feels like a son. I've helped him find jobs, helped him get clean a number of times. He's worked through all of his issues with me over the past eight years. He's a good person normally. Now he's missing, and I need to find him."
Zoey raised her eyebrows. "When did this come up?"
"I got a call from Nate last night when you were asleep." Jo wished she had remembered to mention it before they'd come over to breakfast. If Zoey hadn't been so distracting…
Sandy, watching this interaction, piped up, "Don't forget, you're on vacation."
"Yeah, maybe," Zoey said.
At Jo's stricken look, she sighed and said, "OK, I want to help. What can we do?"
"I don't know what to do, yet. Maybe ask around. See if anyone out here knew him. Nate is checking on things at the PD."
Zoey gave Jo a look that made Jo want to kneel and beg her forgiveness.
CHAPTER 4
Don paced in front of the window of their home in Two Harbors. He had come home early from work certain that he would catch his wife, Jean, in bed with another man. He sensed that she was having an affair. He'd been trying to monitor her phone calls and following her from a distance every chance he got. On this day, he told his boss he had a raging headache and needed to use a couple of hours of sick leave. When he got home, she was nowhere in sight. He paced in front of the window for the entire two hours, imagining what she was up to.