Dead Insider by Victoria Houston Page A

call me Lauren. Yes, but it would be more accurate to say that I stay over here when traveling in the area. I’m a guest, not a resident. My home is in Washington, D.C.”
    “Why are you here now?” asked Lew.
    “Last night was supposed to be a pontoon party, a fundraiser for the campaign in Madison, with seven couples, all of whom are major donors. I was there, waiting for Jane to arrive. When she didn’t show, I drove up here as fast as I could. Got here around four this morning.”
    “What time was she due to arrive in Madison?”
    “Five o’clock. We had things to go over. Usually she flies down in a small jet that she owns, but her pilots said she didn’t show up and she didn’t answer their phone calls. They figured she must have decided to drive down. She’s done that more than once when she needs a break from people. We all learned a long time ago not to argue with Jane.” Lauren gave a small smile.
    “Why didn’t you call the authorities when she didn’t show up? Weren’t you worried?”
    “Great question. Ranks up there with ‘why don’t trees touch the sky?’” Again Osborne heard the brittle laugh.
    When neither Lew nor Osborne responded, she sat up straighter, her face somber as she said, “Jane has … had … a drinking problem. It got worse in the last few weeks. The pressure of the campaign, maybe? If she had pulled over to sleep or stopped in a bar on the way down, I didn’t want the press to know. You have no idea how many times I might have called the cops, only to have her show up within a couple hours. You don’t want to be the person who cries ‘wolf’ too many times. Right?” Lauren slumped back against the sofa.
    “Even if this has happened before,” said Lew, “how long were you planning to wait before …” She paused, then said, “Never mind. I have more important questions for you right now. For the record, our session will be brief and I’ll need to talk with you again later. Right now, I need a few facts before I leave you to find temporary lodging. Has Dr. Osborne explained that this property is off limits until the team from the Wausau Crime Lab has completed their work?”
    “Yes, and how long do you expect that to take?” asked Lauren.
    “I have no idea. Depends on what they find. But I expect them out here shortly. Now, going back to my questions. And Dr. Osborne may have some as well.”
    “Of course,” said Lauren, folding her arms and sitting back on the sofa.
    “How long have you known Jane Ericsson?” asked Lew.
    “Two years. We started working on this campaign almost exactly one year ago.”
    “In Washington, D.C.?”
    “Actually, no. We were in Madison when it started to come together.”
    “Madison?” asked Osborne. “Are you from Wisconsin?”
    “Yes. I grew up in Presque Isle.”
    “And
how
did you meet Jane?” he asked.
    “The usual Wisconsin way,” said Lauren with a slight smile as she picked at an imaginary piece of lint on one knee. “We were at a bar, and friends introduced us. We, just, well, we hit it off right away. I was lobbying at the time for an out-of-state microbrewery, so we chatted about politics, and one thing led to another. She told me about her family, her father and his amazing career. I encouraged her to run for the Senate. I told her I
knew
she could win.”
    Lauren’s eyes brimmed and she pushed a Kleenex at her nose. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t pushed Jane to run …”
    “Were you a couple?” asked Lew.
    “Oh, no. ’Course, I think that old biddy next door thought we were.”
    “Why would she think that?” asked Osborne, surprised.
    “Because I made Jane stop having her over all the time. When I first started coming here that woman just dropped in whenever. I couldn’t believe it.”
    “They have known each other since they were youngsters,” said Osborne. “People up here drop in on one another. It’s the way we are. I’m sure it’s the same in Presque