Focused on Murder by Linda Townsdin

Author:Linda Townsdin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Linda Townsdin
Published: 2017-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Jason assured me he could handle the office, and I drove to Ely for the second time in a week. Getting my questions answered was a long shot, but I had to try.

On the three-hour drive, thoughts about the L.A. job and the murders ping ponged across my brain nonstop. It was a relief to arrive at my destination.

Wozniak’s was tucked back along a recently plowed road. A simple sign above the log building said Wozniak Outfitters. Some outfitters rented out cabins, but Wozniak’s offered only a few camper hookups—a business for people who took the outdoors seriously.

A blue and white plane taxied across the lake behind the store and lifted into the air. I’d just missed Woz. Where was he going? No one would want to camp out in twenty-below-zero temperatures.

Lights were on inside and smoke rose from a chimney. A bell tinkled when I opened the door, and a middle-aged woman behind a knotty-pine counter looked up. “Help you?”

I thought fast. “My boyfriend and I were thinking about doing a BW backpacking trip. I wanted to ask about the option of being flown to a remote site, and picked up a week later. We saw the cool plane on your website and got the idea.”

The woman stopped marking prices on the items spread out on the counter, and smiled. “It’s a De Havilland Beaver. It has a powerful radial engine, carries a lot of weight and has excellent range.”

“You know planes.”

“In the summer we put on floats. At the moment, it’s converted to a tail wheel landing gear with Tundra Tires for off-airport landings.”

“You really know planes.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Too much information?”

I instantly liked her.

“Our whole family flies. It’s a kick.” Her head tilted. “We don’t schedule during the winter though.”

That meant Woz wasn’t guiding when he took off in the plane, and the woman before me must be Mrs. Wozniak. She seemed too open and friendly to be married to the dark-bearded, taciturn man I’d met last summer with Ben. “Sorry. I meant a trip for this coming summer.”

She handed me a brochure with rates and explained how it worked. “We’ll even help you plan your trip and work with you on the routing, so contact us when you and your boyfriend decide.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why do you stay open all winter if there’s no business?”

She tossed a thick braid over her shoulder. “My husband is outdoors most of the time and the kids are away at school. It keeps me occupied, and sometimes people come in for supplies.”

The shelves and tables were stocked with fishing and camping gear, snowshoeing and hunting equipment. A sign said to ask for permits and maps. Background murmurs from a television mounted on a wall above the fireplace filled the silence.

She extended her hand. “My name is Jenna Wozniak. Need any supplies?”

As suits are to Wall Street, Jenna wore the traditional Northwoods uniform—flannel-lined denim shirt over a turtleneck tucked into jeans, a moose head carved into her silver belt buckle.

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