Deadly Stillwater

Mac pondered that approach as he pulled up to another stoplight.

“Anything come of the interviews with Hisle’s family and friends?” he asked.

“Not that I’ve heard. The FBI and our guys, Double Frank and your cousin Paddy did the interviews. Nobody noticed anything odd or weird. Shannon Hisle hadn’t mentioned anything to her family or roommate. Her roommate, who Hisle’s lived with for two years, reported no strange phone calls, men, vehicles, or anything odd. The roommate says Hisle is paranoid. She was mugged last year walking home from school and is particularly sensitive to people following or watching her. So, according to Paddy, and I quote, ‘Nobody’s seen shit, heard shit, wondered about shit, or noticed shit,’ end quote.”

“Well, that’s the same story with Carrie Flanagan.”

“Yeah?” Lich asked.

“Yeah. Riley said a couple of Duffy’s boys interviewed her roommate, coworkers, and family. Nobody was aware of any problems or noticed anyone odd hanging around. If Carrie was worried about someone, something, anything like what we’re looking for, she hadn’t confided in anyone about it.” Mac shook his head. “We’ve got nothing.”

“Hell, we’ve got less than that,” was Lich’s apt reply.

Mac slowed for another stoplight.

“All of this makes me raise my question again, do you think Hisle or Flanagan have anything to do with…” Lich started.

“No fucking way,” Mac replied. “No way, no how.”

“How about a family member who has a grudge? You know, families can have their own weird politics, grievances, hidden hatreds. Maybe one of the girls is in the way of some money, inheritance, whatever. Someone should at least look at it is all I’m saying.”

“Carrie’s the youngest child of the chief, and her brothers absolutely adore her. As for Shannon Hisle, I don’t know her well, but I know Hisle has good relationships with his kids. He was something of a single parent since his wife died years ago so he’s close with Shannon and the rest of them. I’ve never hear of any problems.” Mac was quiet for thirty seconds. “I know what you’re saying Dick. Nobody notices anything. These guys take the girls at vulnerable spots and obviously were aware of their habits, schedule, and so forth. So you get to thinking that maybe someone from the family tips them off or gives them the place. But I just don’t buy the family angle. Maybe if it was just Flanagan or just Hisle, I’d be more inclined to think that way, but together? I don’t see it coming from the families, conspiring in this way. I suppose it’s possible, but it just doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re probably right partner,” was Lich’s reply. “But somebody should be at least thinking about that angle.”

Mac sighed, “We just thought about it and I talked about it with Riley an hour ago.”

“You did?” Lich responded, turning in his car seat.

“Yup. You said you like my bullshit detector, and I do too – I trust my gut. But I trust Riles as well, and we walked through it for about ten minutes. We both came to the same conclusion.”

“Which is?”

“It’s not family. It’s personal. It’s someone or a group of people the chief and Lyman pissed off somewhere along the way.”

“So we just have to find the connection then,” Lich replied.

“Only one problem with that.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t think it will be that easy. The connection is going to be complicated, hard to make, and…”

“And what?”

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to make it in time. If it’s just Shannon and Carrie and nobody else, we’re going to be talking ransom soon and delivery not long after. We don’t have a lot of time. I’d guess twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the most.”

Mac pulled up to the Flanagan house. The chief lived in the Highland Park neighborhood, an affluent section in the southwest corner of St. Paul. A generally tranquil upper-middle-class area filled with professionals of all kinds, it seemed unaccustomed to the mass of police cars and media trucks parked in front of one of its houses.

The chief’s home was a stately two story revival with a red brick exterior, white trim, black shutters and a white portico entrance. It was a classic beauty in a neighborhood of Victorian, Georgian, Colonial, and Cape Cod-style houses built at the turn of the twentieth century. The house was larger and finer that what you would expect for a career cop, even for a chief. However, Charlie Flanagan married well, his wife’s family having earned a significant fortune in logging in northern Minnesota. In addition to the Highland Park home, the chief had a sprawling cabin on Cross Lake on the Whitefish Chain, prime lake real estate two hours north of the Twin Cities.