“Who’s Jessica?” the woman asked.
“Apparently, I am. Listen, Ms.…”
“Finne. Barbara Finne.”
“Dee is just messing with us.”
“You know her well enough to call her Dee?”
“We knew each other in the Cities.”
“Are you a police officer, too?”
“A long time ago.”
“But not anymore? Did you retire?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Financial reasons.”
“Now you’re an investigator?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What are you investigating?”
I took a deep breath.
“You’re pretty good at this,” I said. “Asking questions.”
“Comes from about forty years of experience.”
“All of it in Redding?”
“I started as a kid reporter working for the Minneapolis Tribune. When the Tribune merged with the Minneapolis Star and started cutting bodies I moved on to The Evening Tribune in Albert Lea, a small town on the border with Iowa. After that, I became a reporter and editor with the Herald in Grand Forks, North Dakota. When that was sold to a media conglomerate, I took a buyout and bought the Redding Weekly Bulletin.”
“I thought small-town newspapers were in trouble,” I said.
“As long as there are readers interested in what’s going on in their communities, I believe newspapers will be around. We publish once a week, on Wednesdays, with a circulation of over 3,600 plus another 1,800 online subscriptions.”
“Still, advertising revenue must be down.”
“Redding is more fortunate than most towns in that we not only have the hospital; we also have several small manufacturing companies and other small businesses that support the community. ’Course, when COVID first hit, most of our retail advertising was pulled, which really hurt our cash flow. Now that things are loosening up a bit, we’re getting some of that money back. Legal and public notices have helped, too; legal ads that must be placed by local government according to the law.
“At the same time, COVID was one of the reasons we’re doing okay. COVID here in Redding was a vastly different story than in the Cities, than it is in Florida or California or Texas or the rest of the country. Plus, there’s been the emergence of the Sons of Europa. And the death of Tess Redding and rumors that they’re going to turn the Redding Castle into a commercial development. And the high school—half of our news is comprised of school functions such as sports, band concerts, or academic activities. You can’t get that from the Star Tribune or anywhere else.”
“I would think that the dependence people place on social media to get their news is only going to get worse,” I said.
“A lot of information is almost instantly shared on apps like Facebook and Twitter and that has taken the thunder and lightning away from newspapers. So much of it is incorrect, though, or at least suspect. Newspapers have a great deal more credibility. People trust them; it’s where they go to learn the truth.” Barbara paused to take a deep breath. “McKenzie, you’re pretty good at this yourself, asking questions.”
“My experience, people love to hear themselves talk.”
“Don’t they, though?”
“You mentioned that there are rumors that they’re going to turn Redding Castle into some kind of development,” I said.
“Condos with a restaurant and retail space.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t give me that, McKenzie. Huh?”
“There are questions I’d like to ask you.”
“What a coincidence. There are questions I would like to ask you.”
“My problem is that I don’t want to see any of it in the Wednesday edition of the Redding Weekly Bulletin.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a public figure. I’m here for personal reasons.”
“We can talk off the record,” Barbara said. “For now.”
“It’s the ‘for now’ part that makes me nervous.”
“McKenzie, does this have anything to do with Jenness Crawford suspecting that her grandmother was murdered?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I have my sources.”
“I bet.”
“You’ll notice though, that I haven’t printed a single word about it nor will I unless official action is taken.”
“Define ‘official action.’”
“The chief brings someone in for questioning; someone is arrested. Unless that happens, it just idle gossip.”
I gave it a few beats of thought before responding.
“Off the record,” I said.
“For now,” Barbara replied.
“Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” I said.
Late afternoon and business at the Java House had slacked off. Barbara Finne and I were the only customers inside; ordering our coffees from behind a Plexiglas partition. The woman taking our order wasn’t wearing a mask, though, and I could see her face. It was something I had missed during the pandemic, faces. At the academy, I was well trained in reading both facial expressions and body language; a practical and essential skill for any law enforcement officer. Because of the masks, I felt I was at a disadvantage.
“How’s business?” Barbara asked.
“Good,” the woman replied. “Much better than the last time we talked. Beverage sales have always been solid, except only a few of my customers were drinking them inside so I lost out on pastry sales. Now people are hanging around more, both inside and at the half-dozen tables on the sidewalk. Tell your readers that my raspberry white chocolate scones are back.”
“What about the high school kids?”
“They came back the day they reopened the school, giving me a nice after-school rush like before; the kids hanging out. They don’t wear masks, of course, but they never did except when you made them. Kids, you know; they think they’re invincible.”
The woman served our drinks in paper cups. I also ordered a couple of raspberry white chocolate scones to go just because. We grabbed a table on the sidewalk. I slid a scone toward Barbara.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re a nice man.”
“Hardly.”
“I saw the tip you left.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I took a bite of the scone and washed it down with my coffee.
“Tell me about the plans for turning Redding Castle into a development,” I said.
“I haven’t seen any actual plans, yet I know that the city, the bank, and a local architect and developer are very keen on them.”
“Isn’t that a little presumptuous? Tess Redding isn’t even cold in her grave yet.”
“Not really. The project has been on-again, off-again since before the pandemic when Tess announced that she was going to sell the castle. The castle has such an iconic presence in our collective psyche that it was front-page news and it soon became a running story. What did it mean? Would someone buy the castle and keep running it the way it is? Would it be torn down? Would lake homes be built on the property? A commercial development? I don’t think we went more than a couple weeks at a time without printing something about it. The story got a big boost when Tess announced that she had changed her mind; that the castle was no longer for sale. And another boost after she died. Now there’s talk that her heirs will sell anyway, and we’re back to wondering what that means.
“You need to remember that anything having to do with the Reddings is big news here. After all, the town was named after them. The county, too. When Madison Zumwalt won the state women’s cross-country skiing championship I put her on the front page for two consecutive weeks. The fact that she’s the granddaughter of Tess and Joe and the great-great-great granddaughter of John—that usually comes up around the third graf. Tell you what, McKenzie. Give me your email address. I’ll send some of the stories I wrote about it and you can see for yourself.”
I gave her my address. While Barbara was jotting it down, I glanced across the street just in time to see Big Ben Redding stepping through the doors of a red-and-white building that was built to resemble an old-fashioned steamboat. He stood at the top of a small concrete staircase and looked right and then left as if he was searching for someone.
Olivia Redding? my inner voice asked.
Seeing nothing that interested him, Big Ben skipped down the stairs to the sidewalk, turned, and followed it to a second, narrower sidewalk that ran between the red-and-white building and the large brick structure next door. He followed it and quickly disappeared from my sight. He had moved very well for a big man; there was a spring in his step.
“Barbara?” I asked. “What’s that building across the street?”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“The Riverboat Hotel.”
“It’s a hotel?”
“Yes, why?”
“It doesn’t look like a hotel.”
“It’s not a Hilton, but it’ll do. It was built about one hundred years ago.”
“Does it have a restaurant?”
“No.”
“Interesting,” I said, but what I was thinking—If he didn’t go there to eat, why is Big Ben spending time in a hotel in the middle of an afternoon in downtown Redding?
I’ll give you three guesses, my inner voice said.
Where is his wife? I wondered.
I’ll bet you a nickel she isn’t in the hotel.
“Huh,” I said aloud.
“Okay, what does ‘huh’ mean this time?” Barbara asked.
“These scones are really good.”
I took another bite and smiled to prove it.
“You haven’t answered my questions, yet,” Barbara said.
“Shoot.”
“Why are you here? What are you investigating?”
My first instinct was to lie. I decided against it.
“You were correct before—Jenness Crawford was concerned about the timing of her grandmother’s death. She asked me to look into it.”
“Tess had named Crawford executive director of the castle two, three months ago,” Barbara said. “She said, ‘The torch has been passed to a new generation.’”
“Did she?”
“That’s a direct quote, by the way. It’s in the paper.”
“Yes, well, for the record, all the evidence I’ve seen so far seems to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Tess Redding died peacefully in her sleep after a long and fruitful life, so…”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you have a suspicious nature.”
“How do you know Jenness Crawford?”
“We met through my wife. Jen used to work for her.”
“Where?”
“Rickie’s. It’s a jazz club in St. Paul.”
“On Cathedral Hill,” Barbara said.
“You’ve been there.”
“I will on rare occasions visit the big city.”
“I don’t think of St. Paul or Minneapolis as a big city.”
“You don’t live a stone’s throw away from the South Dakota border, either, in a town whose entire population wouldn’t fill the Xcel Energy Center.”
“True.”
“I need to get going.” Barbara stood. “It never fails. I have an entire week to put it together yet I’m always scrambling at the last minute to get the paper printed and delivered to the post office.”
“Post office?”
“We don’t use carriers. Instead, the Bulletin is mailed to our subscribers. I’ll send you those stories.”
“I look forward to reading them.”
“How long will you be in town?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“You realize I’m going to check you out, right? You know I’m going to put something in the paper, right?”
“Not about Tess.”
“Not about Tess.”
“I admire your professionalism.”
“We’ll see.”
Barbara walked away. I watched her go. As soon as she was out of sight, I cleared the table and crossed the street. Once again the traffic stopped for me.
Amazing, my inner voice said.
I walked to the staircase leading to the Riverboat Hotel and messed my hair for dramatic effect. I then dashed up the steps, yanked open the door and sprinted to the reception desk. I barely noticed the decades-old furniture and woodwork as I ran across the hardwood floor. A young woman gazed at me, an expression of anxiety in her eyes. I puffed at her as if I had been running for miles. She took several steps backward.
“I’m supposed to meet Big Ben Redding here,” I told her. “But I’m way late.”
The young woman was startled enough to provide me with information that she probably wouldn’t have under normal circumstances, which was the entire point.
“Mr. Redding checked out ten minutes ago,” she said.
“He checked out?” I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, again for dramatic effect, and made hand movements as if I were making a phone call. “No one tells me anything. Did his business associate leave, too?”
“She left a few minutes before he did.”
I pressed the cell to my ear.
“Thank you,” I said.
I moved quickly from the lobby and went outside again. Once I left the hotel, I slowed my pace and returned the cell to my pocket.
Mr. Redding checked out, my inner voice said. Which means he checked in. Which means he wasn’t visiting someone, someone was visiting him. A woman. Too bad you couldn’t get a name without alarming the receptionist more than you already had.
I stayed on the main sidewalk until I reached the second sidewalk as Big Ben had and followed it between the two buildings. It led me to a parking lot located directly behind the Riverboat Hotel. The lot contained half a dozen vehicles. I checked for a back door to the hotel and quickly found one.
Questions were raised—let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Big Ben had indeed been enjoying a little nonmarital afternoon delight. If he had parked in the lot, why didn’t he use the rear exit to reach his vehicle? Why did he use the front door? Did he want to be seen? By whom? Or did the woman leave by the rear entrance and he didn’t want to be seen with her? Or are you reading way too much into this?
Barbara Finne isn’t the only one with a suspicious nature, my inner voice told me.
On the other hand, I reminded myself, Jenness Crawford said that Big Ben and Olivia had gone to town together. Only they hadn’t remained together. I wondered why not. I wondered if either of them knew what the other was doing.
It was early evening when I returned to Redding Castle, yet because of daylight savings time, the sun was still high in the sky. I deliberately parked beneath one of four light poles stationed at the corners of the lot. It didn’t take long to find the security camera that recorded the comings and goings of the castle’s guests
I wondered if it was motion activated.
I wondered if the lights were motion activated.
I went looking for Mr. Doty. I found him inside the barn. I called to him from the doorway. He seemed annoyed to be interrupted from whatever it was he was working on.
“Don’t know about cameras,” he said. “Ain’t my job. The lights, well we used to have them go on and off like you say, only there’s an awful lot of critters about, raccoons and deer and such. It became a bigger pain in the ass jumpin’ up to see what was moving about than just leavin’ ’em on all night. Look close, though; you’ll see they got them shields to eliminate light pollution, what Miss calls it. Lights shine on the parking lot but nowhere else so it ain’t as much a bother to the guests.”
“You wouldn’t know when people come and go late at night then,” I said.
“Depends. Sometimes they can get pretty loud. They’re on vacation, know what I mean?”
I said I did and thanked him.
I began to cross the clearing toward the James J. Hill Cabin, careful to stay on or near the narrow cobblestone lanes. There were several hoses wound on reels, one I saw attached to the castle itself and several more attached to freestanding water spigots spaced a healthy distance apart. I was most interested, though, in the path lights that were spaced every ten yards or so. There seemed to be enough of them that even a first-time visitor could find his way around the castle grounds at night while minimizing the light pollution that Jenness seemed to be concerned about.
Are you still holding on to the idea of someone wandering about in the dead of night with a ladder? my inner voice asked.
Seems unlikely, I told myself. Still …
I continued on toward the cabin where Nina and I were staying. As I approached it, I glanced toward the cabin set nearest to us, the one named after General Oglesby, whoever the hell he was.
That’s when I saw it, a figure, lying flat on his back on the grass.
He wasn’t moving.
I stared for a moment.
“Hey,” I called.
The figure still didn’t move.
“Hey,” I called again even as I started sprinting toward it.
As I drew closer I recognized the body of a woman.
“Miss?”
She didn’t answer.
Details emerged as I approached her—five six, one hundred and thirty pounds, long brown hair streaked with gray, a long peasant blouse over blue jeans and sandals.
“Miss?”
I knelt next to her.
She looked up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun with the flat of her hand.
“What do you want?” she asked.
I stood and stepped away until we were a few feet apart.
“I thought you might be hurt,” I said.
“Do I look hurt?”
“Ma’am, you’re lying on the ground.”
“Oh, now I’m a ma’am. A second ago I was a miss. What’s that about?”
The door to the General Oglesby Cabin opened and a man stepped out. He looked to be about the same age as the woman—midfifties and wearing jeans and a flannel shirt—only he was smiling.
“Is the bad man bothering you, honey?” he asked.
Bad man?
“A woman can’t just sit and meditate anymore without being accosted on the village green?” the woman said.
Village green?
“You’re not sitting,” the man said. “You’re lying on the grass.”
“I like to get as close to Mother Earth as possible.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought…”
The man waved his hand; the gesture telling me not to worry about it.
“When did you get back from town?” he asked.
Are you talking to me?
“Fifteen minutes ago,” the woman said. “I was attempting to relieve my urban stress and then he arrived.”
Urban stress? In Redding?
“Are you going to lie there all afternoon or do you want to go to the castle with me and see your niece?” he said.
“Jenness is a capitalist.”
“We all have our faults.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “Are you Alexander Redding?”
“Yes, I am. But please, call me Alex.”
I looked down on the woman who had made no effort whatsoever to rise.
“Then you must be Jen’s aunt Eden.”
“How’d you know?” she asked.
“She told me you were coming.”
“Are you a friend of Jenness?” Alex asked.
“I am.” I gestured at the James H. Hill Cabin. “My wife Nina and I. My name’s McKenzie.”
“Nina,” Eden said. “Do you call her ma’am?”
I gestured at the horizon.
“The sun was in my eyes so I couldn’t see how young you were,” I said.
Eden laughed at that and offered her hand to Alex. He helped his wife to her feet.
“Good one, McKenzie.” Eden used her hands to brush her shirt and jeans both front and back. “So, should we be off to have tea with little Jenny; see if she’s gained any weight since deciding to become a fat cat?”
Fat cat?
“Pleasure meeting you, McKenzie,” Alex said.
“Likewise.”
A moment later, I watched the two of them walking hand in hand across “the village green.”
Nina was sitting at the small kitchen table and working with her laptop when I entered the cabin. She was wearing black-rimmed reading glasses and a short white terry cloth robe and nothing else that I could see; her hair was still damp from the shower.
“I like your outfit,” I said.
“I should get dressed.”
“Please, not on my account.”
“There’s coffee.”
I went to the small coffeepot on the narrow counter and poured a cup.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Working.”
“For who? Redding Castle or Rickie’s?”
“Rickie’s. By the way, I am so sore from bending over and kneeling and scrubbing and carrying stuff. That Jenness—I haven’t worked so hard in my life.”
“Never?”
Nina looked up from her computer.
“Not recently, anyway,” she said. “You have emails.”
“Can I use the laptop?”
“I need to finish this. Use your phone.”
I went to the love seat set in front of the fireplace and stretched out, careful not to put my shoes on the cushion. I activated the email function on my phone—I usually keep it off except when far from home—and started browsing. I found six messages from Barbara Finne, all of them sent from the Redding Weekly Bulletin account. I read them in order.
FOR SALE, ONE CASTLE, SLIGHTLY USED
Redding Castle is now for sale according to Tess Redding, a fourth-generation member of the John Redding family that has owned the iconic lake home located on the eastern shore of Lake Anpetuwi since 1883.
Redding said the family made the difficult decision to close the castle and put the property up for sale during “many conversations” over the Christmas holidays.
Part of the reason for the closure is a decline in business during the past couple of years, Redding said.
“Also, I’m not getting any younger,” she said. “And my children all have lives of their own. None of them want to take over when I move on.”
MAYOR, CITY COUNCIL UNITE IN EFFORT TO SAVE REDDING CASTLE
Redding Mayor Matthew Abere and members of the city council were quick to react to news that Redding Castle, the iconic landmark located on Lake Anpetuwi since 1883, was up for sale.
“I’d say this would be a terrible loss to the community,” Abere said. “If the sale goes through, I’d hope that the buyer would keep it open to the public.”
“I’d really hate to see someone come in and destroy it,” said City Councilwoman Brianne Halvorson. “People have really enjoyed seeing the facility because of its age and notoriety and its connection to the City of Redding for so long.”
To that end, both Abere and Halvorson said the city would do “what it can” to keep it standing.
Redding Castle is well known throughout the state and helps bring people to the community, Abere said. It had been the “unofficial” headquarters for the Governors Fishing Opener three years ago.
SUN IS SETTING ON REDDING CASTLE
It’s been said that John Redding chose the location for the iconic lake home that bears his name because of the amazing sunset.
Only now it appears that the sun will be setting on Redding Castle one last time.
Redding Mayor Matthew Abere said efforts to find a buyer who will keep it open as a resort hotel and restaurant have proved unproductive.
The problem lies in rewiring and bringing the building up to code, as well as other restoration challenges.
“The simple truth is that the castle needs a lot of work,” Abere said. “And the cost necessary to restore the building is far more than buyers are willing to spend.”
Redding Castle is listed on the National Registry of Historic Places. However, private property is not eligible for the Minnesota Historical and Cultural Heritage Grants program. Instead, they are mainly limited to tax breaks.
“That’s just not enough,” Abere said.
Tess Redding said that whatever happens to the castle that was built by her great-grandfather on Lake Anpetuwi will be up to the buyer.
REDDING CASTLE “CONDOMINIUMS”?
Although an offer has yet to be made for the property, plans are under way to demolish Redding Castle and replace it with luxury condominiums.
The effort is being spearheaded by Cassandra Boeve, owner of Boeve Luxury, LLC, a development firm located in Redding, and appears to already have the support of Redding State Bank as well as Mayor Matthew Abere.
“If we can’t save Redding Castle, this is the next best thing,” Abere said. “The project will create jobs and bring added tax revenue to the city.
According to sources, the project, tentatively called “Castles on Anpetuwi,” will consist of a forty-four unit tower, ground-floor retail space including a coffeehouse and wine bar, and underground parking.
However, Tess Redding, a fourth-generation member of the John Redding family that owns the 137-year-old lake home located on the eastern shore of Lake Anpetuwi, says she has yet to hear from Boeve or anyone else connected with the project.
“Developers have called,” said Redding, 87. “But not these people. This is the first I’ve heard of them.”
The next piece came with a pic of Jenness Crawford and her grandmother; Jen hugging Tess Redding from behind, both of them smiling merrily.
REDDING CASTLE WILL STAY IN THE FAMILY
Plans to sell Redding Castle and its surrounding property have been put on hold, according to Tess Redding.
Instead, it will continue as a resort hotel and restaurant under the direction of Redding’s granddaughter Jenness Crawford.
“My children and I had agreed to sell because business was in decline and because none of them wanted to take over management when I was gone,” said Redding, 87.
However, she said that, under the direction of Crawford during the past year, the castle had already seen a sharp increase in business even during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.
“Not only that, Jenness is family,” Redding said.
Crawford is the daughter of Edward Crawford and Marian Redding Crawford. She is the great-great-great-granddaughter of John Redding who built the iconic lake home on Lake Anpetuwi in 1883.
There was one final newspaper article. It appeared with a note from Barbara Finne that read: “By the way, the following will appear in tomorrow’s Weekly Bulletin unless you call me with a better story.”
A NEW SUITOR FOR REDDING CASTLE?
Another character has appeared in the ongoing saga to determine what is to become of 138-year-old Redding Castle.
Nina Truhler, owner of the renowned Rickie’s jazz club located on Cathedral Hill in St. Paul, has been visiting the castle along with her millionaire husband, Rushmore McKenzie, as guests of Jenness Crawford.
Truhler and Crawford are close friends. Crawford worked as a manager at Rickie’s before she was named executive director of Redding Castle months before the passing of her grandmother, Tess Redding.
McKenzie would admit for the record only that he and his wife were in town “for personal reasons.” However, he spent a great deal of time exploring downtown Redding. He was particularly interested in learning about the Riverboat Hotel, asking if it had a restaurant.
He also expressed a keen interest in any information about any existing plans to transform Redding Castle into a commercial development.
At the same time, reliable sources report that Truhler spent hours Tuesday working with Crawford and the castle’s housekeeping staff, going through each of the resort’s rooms and cabins, as well as the restaurant and the lobby, becoming acquainted with nearly every aspect of the castle’s business operations.
I started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Nina asked.
I rose from the love seat and crossed into the kitchen area. I gave her my cell phone.
“Read this,” I said.
Nina’s did, her eyes widening with dread.
“None of this is true,” she said.
“Actually, if you read the piece carefully, you’ll discover that every word of it is true.”
“Except we don’t want to buy the castle. Do we?”
“No, we don’t. On the other hand, the piece doesn’t actually say that we do.”
“What will Jenness say?”
“That’s a good question. I have another one for you, as well. Nina, I spent the entire day trying to re-create the crime. I met with the police chief, who, as it turns out, is a friend of mine, an expert homicide cop from Minneapolis. I met with the Redding County medical examiner, who seems very competent. I studied their reports. If Tess Redding was murdered, it was so expertly done that there is absolutely no way you could prove it. What’s more, Jenness knows that. She knew it long before she called us.”
“What are you asking?”
“Why exactly did she call us?”