wider and motioned for her to enter.
“You drove down the mountain alone?”
Detective Varney nodded, but she was looking at the large studio with interest, ignoring the two poodles that were checking her out with equal interest.
“Well, that gets you a cup of tea,” Felicia said. “I was just about to make some. Come on to the kitchen. Green tea,” she said, leading the way through the clutter of her studio. “Good for the heart, or the liver, or something.” She glanced back when she realized her guest had stopped and was examining a group of water colors in frames.
“You illustrated the Greta series!” Detective Varney exclaimed. “I loved them when I was a child! The pictures are wonderful!”
“For that you can have your choice of honey or sugar with your tea,” Felicia said. “Sagebrush honey, put up by a Klamath family over by La Pine. Rare, and very special.”
The detective hurriedly joined her in the kitchen area; she looked embarrassed, Felicia thought with amusement. “Sit down, won’t be a minute. You could start your questions while the kettle comes to a boil.”
Detective Varney pulled a notebook from her bag, sat at the table, and looked out over the lake. “You can’t see much of the upper end from here, can you?”
“No. You can see Siren Rock and a bit beyond, that’s all.”
“Were you here on Friday when Judson Vickers was shot?”
“Yes. Here most of the time. And no, I didn’t see or hear anything out of ordinary, not until Florence Halburtson called and told me about the shooting.”
She busied herself with scalding a little blue porcelain tea pot, added leaves, then boiling water, and began to carry things to the table. She talked as she moved about. “Jud was a dear friend, Detective Varney. I’d like to see whoever did that to him dropped out of a boat with an anchor tied to his feet in the deepest water out there. But I don’t have any real information for you, I’m afraid. I don’t know who did that, or why. And I don’t know how anyone got over there in the middle of the night, unless he drove up the mountain in the daylight and came back down the next day. You know Coop’s dogs didn’t set up a clamor, I suppose. And they would have if anyone had put a boat out over there. And there just isn’t any other way.”
“Could someone from the park area have put a boat out, gone up the finger, and hung out somewhere up there until dark? Then left at the first light?”
Felicia said thoughtfully, “First thing some of us thought of. I asked Pete Holman about it. He gives kayak lessons, you know. The lake’s a good place for beginners, no motorboats, no current, just quiet water. Pete’s usually the last one to leave the lake, he and a student in a separate kayak. He makes them go through one break, up into the finger, then back out through the other narrower break, and he said no one was up in the finger when he left just before dark. He’s the last one out and the first one back in the next morning. He lives over in Bend.”
She poured tea then, and added a little honey to hers. “Try it. Sage honey is very good.”
The detective added a spoon of honey to her own tea and nodded after she sipped it. “Very good, indeed,” she said. “You were a close friend of Jud Vickers’?”
“A good friend, yes. I knew him when he was a little boy, and he used to come over here and play with my kids. Later, he came over to talk, to hang out now and then.”
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm him? To kill him?”
“I never heard anyone talk that way about him. He was liked around here. A good listener, willing to go out of his way to shop for someone in Bend, do little favors.”
“Someone didn’t like him,” Detective Varney said slowly.
Felicia shook her head. “I know what you’ve been hearing about him, and probably most of it’s true enough. He was a chaser, but he never caught anyone who didn’t want catching. They knew what
“You drove down the mountain alone?”
Detective Varney nodded, but she was looking at the large studio with interest, ignoring the two poodles that were checking her out with equal interest.
“Well, that gets you a cup of tea,” Felicia said. “I was just about to make some. Come on to the kitchen. Green tea,” she said, leading the way through the clutter of her studio. “Good for the heart, or the liver, or something.” She glanced back when she realized her guest had stopped and was examining a group of water colors in frames.
“You illustrated the Greta series!” Detective Varney exclaimed. “I loved them when I was a child! The pictures are wonderful!”
“For that you can have your choice of honey or sugar with your tea,” Felicia said. “Sagebrush honey, put up by a Klamath family over by La Pine. Rare, and very special.”
The detective hurriedly joined her in the kitchen area; she looked embarrassed, Felicia thought with amusement. “Sit down, won’t be a minute. You could start your questions while the kettle comes to a boil.”
Detective Varney pulled a notebook from her bag, sat at the table, and looked out over the lake. “You can’t see much of the upper end from here, can you?”
“No. You can see Siren Rock and a bit beyond, that’s all.”
“Were you here on Friday when Judson Vickers was shot?”
“Yes. Here most of the time. And no, I didn’t see or hear anything out of ordinary, not until Florence Halburtson called and told me about the shooting.”
She busied herself with scalding a little blue porcelain tea pot, added leaves, then boiling water, and began to carry things to the table. She talked as she moved about. “Jud was a dear friend, Detective Varney. I’d like to see whoever did that to him dropped out of a boat with an anchor tied to his feet in the deepest water out there. But I don’t have any real information for you, I’m afraid. I don’t know who did that, or why. And I don’t know how anyone got over there in the middle of the night, unless he drove up the mountain in the daylight and came back down the next day. You know Coop’s dogs didn’t set up a clamor, I suppose. And they would have if anyone had put a boat out over there. And there just isn’t any other way.”
“Could someone from the park area have put a boat out, gone up the finger, and hung out somewhere up there until dark? Then left at the first light?”
Felicia said thoughtfully, “First thing some of us thought of. I asked Pete Holman about it. He gives kayak lessons, you know. The lake’s a good place for beginners, no motorboats, no current, just quiet water. Pete’s usually the last one to leave the lake, he and a student in a separate kayak. He makes them go through one break, up into the finger, then back out through the other narrower break, and he said no one was up in the finger when he left just before dark. He’s the last one out and the first one back in the next morning. He lives over in Bend.”
She poured tea then, and added a little honey to hers. “Try it. Sage honey is very good.”
The detective added a spoon of honey to her own tea and nodded after she sipped it. “Very good, indeed,” she said. “You were a close friend of Jud Vickers’?”
“A good friend, yes. I knew him when he was a little boy, and he used to come over here and play with my kids. Later, he came over to talk, to hang out now and then.”
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm him? To kill him?”
“I never heard anyone talk that way about him. He was liked around here. A good listener, willing to go out of his way to shop for someone in Bend, do little favors.”
“Someone didn’t like him,” Detective Varney said slowly.
Felicia shook her head. “I know what you’ve been hearing about him, and probably most of it’s true enough. He was a chaser, but he never caught anyone who didn’t want catching. They knew what
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