Dead Rapunzel by Victoria Houston Page A

that, Philip told Rudd that he tried to get Kenzie to get professional help. He felt the trauma of her mother’s death was causing her to behave strangely. After Philip’s death, Rudd made sure Kenzie saw a good psychiatrist over in the cities. She still sees someone, maybe a psychotherapist.”
    â€œI know Greg and his father, Vern,” said Osborne, “and I knew Greg was married, but I didn’t know his wife was a Tomlinson. Interesting.”
    He didn’t add that Vern Steidl was the type of man he detested. Ray might call him a blowhard, but Osborne found him to be a buffoon. He was so smart that he once registered to run for a position on the Loon Lake Planning and Zoning Commission—before the town clerk in charge of printing ballots pointed out the obvious potential for a conflict of interest when a guy running a construction company is in a position to vote on property issues affecting his competition. Even more irritating, Vern had a habit of showing up at McDonald’s for morning coffee and holding forth with bombastic rhetoric on local politics as if he had a clue what he was talking about. But the worst was Vern’s pride in hunting bears with dogs trained to chase and tree the animals, a sport that turned Osborne’s stomach.
    More than once, Osborne himself had been out hunting for grouse on a beautiful fall day when he and his black lab had narrowly escaped Mike’s being attacked by Vern’s bear dogs.
    The second time it happened, Osborne had asked Vern to take his dogs elsewhere for training: “This is prime grouse territory, and I don’t think too many bear hide out in these young aspen. Why don’t you take your dogs down the road a bit?” Osborne had spoken politely. At least he thought he had.
    The response from Vern was not so polite: “You got a problem with my dogs, asshole, you move down the goddamn road.”
    But Vern’s son, Greg, was not like his old man. A manager in his father’s construction company, Greg struck Osborne as a calm, well-spoken young man. “You know Greg Steidl, don’t you?” Osborne asked Mallory.
    â€œHe was a couple years behind me in high school,” said his daughter. “Seemed like a quiet kind of guy. Didn’t he play basketball, Dad?”
    â€œI am freezing out here,” said Lew before Osborne could answer. “Judith, if you will lead the way. Just tell the family that I stopped you in front of Rudd’s home minutes ago and asked where I could find the family members.”
    â€œI can do that. Then what would you like me to say?”
    â€œNothing. I’ll take it from there, and Doc and I won’t stay any longer than necessary. I need contact information from them and I want to make appointments for interviews with each one. That shouldn’t take long.”
    Osborne and Lew followed the two women up a recently shoveled walkway to the red front door. It had a large brass knocker in the shape of a wild duck in flight. Judith rapped the knocker. The door opened immediately.
    â€œWhat the—?” said Sloane Tomlinson. She didn’t finish her remark but stepped forward so that her bulky frame filled the doorway. “Judith,” her tone was accusing, “Kenzie told you this was family only.” She peered over Judith’s shoulder. “ You are not welcome, Chief Ferris. This is a private family gathering.”
    â€œI understand,” said Lew, her voice even. “Judith has nothing to do with Dr. Osborne and myself being here. I have just five minutes of official business with you and your family members. Then we will be happy to leave.”
    â€œOh no, you don’t,” said a lively voice from behind Sloane. “Come in, come in. I have hot chocolate and donuts.”
    The woman to whom the voice belonged pushed Sloane to one side as she thrust a hand at Lew. “I’m Kenzie and this is my house. I’m in