A Door in the River by Inger Ash Wolfe Read Free Book Online Page A

forty-six dies in the parking lot of a native smoke stand – especially if he’s a nonsmoker – there’s a reason to canvass
right there
. Or do you discover bodies in the parking lots of your reserve so often that it’s normal to you?”
    The commander paused before answering. “When people die of natural causes in
your
town, Detective Inspector, do you start rounding up the usual suspects?”
    She’d decided for the time being to leave out what Deacon had discovered. “Your whole investigation presumes an awful lot, Commander.”
    Constable Bellecourt stepped in. “Detective Inspector, there was nothing at the scene to suggest anything more than a tragic, but accidental, loss of life. I did take names when I was on the scene and I was ready to do follow-up, but the autopsy confirmed that he’d died of a heart attack brought on by an anaphylactic reaction.”
    “Well, maybe you needed to dig a little deeper,” she said, brandishing her copy of the police report. “Henry Wiest lived in Kehoe Glenn. He was a well-known businessman in the area, owned a hardware store, and had, literally, hundreds of personal relationships through his store. No enemies, no troubles, in perfect health.” She was going to keep the information about the old gambling problem andthat little packet of cash to herself for the time being. “Yet he collapses and dies in a parking lot down the road from here when he has no reason to be there. Do
you
think the Eagle Smoke and Souvenir Shop would have called Henry Wiest down from Kehoe Glenn to change a lightbulb?”
    “Maybe he did smoke, Detective. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know.”
    “Then why not stop at the first shack outside of Mayfair on his way back home? There’d have to be a dozen places to turn off on Highway 41 for cigarettes before entering the reserve, and there are four other smoke shacks before the Eagle. Maybe they were selling something special or unique.”
    “Like what?”
    “You would know that better than me, Commander.”
    LeJeune appeared to be looking at her in a pitying fashion. “Am I … missing something here, Detective?”
    “No,” said Hazel flatly. “I just want to be sure you’re completely confident that your investigation was thorough.”
    “I’m beginning to understand you think differently.”
    Hazel opened her portfolio and took out a copy of Deacon’s autopsy and passed it to the commander. LeJeune began reading it slowly. After a moment, she muttered, “Goodness” and passed it to Bellecourt. She put her finger on what Hazel presumed was the salient detail.
    “Oh gosh,” said RC Bellecourt.
    “So my next question is, where would a person inQueesik Bay come across a Taser? Or something like it?”
    “I doubt that’s what made these marks on Mr. Wiest,” said Bellecourt.
    “Well, unless you have electronic wasps here, it had to be something that could pierce a person’s skin and give them a lethal shock.”
    “Tasers aren’t lethal, Detective Inspector.”
    “I know they’re not supposed to be. But fifty thousand volts is an unpredictable amount of electricity, don’t you think?”
    “Do you not have Tasers on your force?” LeJeune asked.
    Hazel shifted in her seat. “We don’t need them.”
    “Everyone needs Tasers. And they don’t kill people unless you bash someone over the head with one. And it’s not volts that kill, anyway. It’s amps. Current, you know? How many Taser deaths were reported in North America last year, Lydia?”
    “There were none, Commander.”
    “Detective Inspector Micallef thinks it’s possible Henry Wiest was killed by a Taser.”
    “I must admit,” said Bellecourt, “I do think it very unlikely. A Taser barb stays in the victim. It shoots out what are little more than two miniature jumper cables. They really get in there and they can leave a significant wound. These ‘sting’ wounds in Mr. Wiest weren’t made by a Taser.”
    “I didn’t think of that, Lydia,” said