Two Big Fish put headaches aside for a day to fish with dad

DEERWOOD, MINN. - Chris Omodt is late again. He'd been postponed by some important business with state officials, probably more bad news about inquiries into alleged misconduct in the Metro Gang Strike Force. Nobody is saying.

"The cone of silence has come down on this boat," says Paul Omodt as he pulls up another line cleaned by a hungry pike.

Paul Omodt's cell phone rings, again. It's Chris, the man who took over a Strike Force that has since been accused of mishandling money and confiscated property. Officials had sensed problems, Chris said, but he found them worse than he could have imagined. Thursday was another dismal day with lawyers.

The morning didn't start much better for Paul, a public relations crisis manager: His beleaguered client, Denny Hecker, called just after 5 a.m. Could Omodt get the news helicopters to quit hovering over his house -- and waking up the kids?

But this is the annual Omodt fishing trip with dad, and the Omodt boys -- Paul, Chris and Steve -- vowed to leave two of the biggest news events of the year behind for the weekend. They've been taking their dad, Don, the former Hennepin County sheriff, fishing for Father's Day for more than a decade, and allegations of police misconduct or a billion-dollar meltdown weren't going to change that. The only thing that could ruin it is a storm brewing 18 miles away.

Chris calls again: He'll be at the dock in five minutes.

"These guys get so many calls you'd think they were Vikings officials talking to Brett Favre," says fishing guide Lynn Harker.

Paul and Steve still act like 14-year-olds up at the lake: constantly jabbing at each other.

"Paul, this bothering you?" says Steve, bouncing his fishing rod off Paul's head.

"I think they named the big-mouth bass after Steve," Paul says.

Paul can't talk about Hecker, so I ask him about a hypothetical fish. Say you have a fish on the line, and he's gone belly-up. Then, all the little fish around him start dying, too. Is the fish a criminal, or just a victim of the economy?

"A victim of the economy," says Paul without missing a beat.

"He's the favorite son," says Paul. "We're the black sheep. We don't get shot at for a living."

"Chris is serious, by-the-book, introverted, extremely honest," says Steve. "He's the classic firstborn type. I think dad probably picked out his job when Chris was born; there was always subtle pressure."

Chris calls again. He's been waiting at the dock. "Just swim out to the boat, Chris," says Paul. He hangs up.

"Chris is mad," Paul says.

They bust out laughing.

Waiting at the dock, Chris Omodt is dressed in shorts, a Twins T-shirt and rubber clogs. At a meeting this morning, he'd learned that the attorney general's office would no longer represent the Strike Force unit; he had to find outside counsel. His jaw is clenched, his gaze intense. You can tell he hasn't shaken the stress yet.

From a distance, Chris looks a little like Ray Liotta in a scary role.

In the boat now, it's just Chris and Paul -- and their cell phones, buzzing like mad hornets. But the brothers don't answer. There's just the hiss of the line and the slap of water under the boat. Dad isn't feeling well, so he watches from shore. The flying Omodts in repose. Chris makes his first cast and the line goes taut. He reels in a small crappie and, for the first time, smiles.

Paul asks about Chris' day. "I'm at the breaking point, and I told them that," says Chris. "I've never seen politics like this. When I took the job, I told them I was apolitical, and I meant it. I just want to do my job."

His first day as chief of the unit, Chris said, he couldn't believe what he saw. "I don't swear, but the place was ..." Chris curses.

Don Omodt gave his son steady advice: "He said, don't lose your cool, continue to be honest and ethical," says Chris. "I wanted to throw in the towel, but he said, 'Hang in there.'"

* * * *

The sky is bruised and lightning scratches the clouds. Harker heads in.

On the deck at Ruttger's Bay Lake Lodge, the Omodt clan has begun to assemble. Paul talks about the raid on Hecker's business and houses, and says that state troopers drew guns.

"For a paper warrant?" says Chris, shaking his head. "That makes me mad."

Chris orders a light beer, with lime. Is work gone yet?

"It's gone," he said. "For four days."

Across Bay Lake it is beginning to rain. Storm clouds pile up and advance on the Omodts. They always do.