Cold Hunter's Moon (13 page)

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Authors: K. C. Greenlief

BOOK: Cold Hunter's Moon
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NOVEMBER 23—JOHN RANSON
Lark and Lacey drove to John's office. John's truck was parked on the street out front. The blinds were open and they could see him hunched over a drafting table. A small donut box from the Big Oak Diner lay open on his desk and a half full coffeepot sat on the credenza against the back wall of the office. John looked up at the sound of the door opening and his face broke into a smile. He glanced down at his watch, noting that it was only seven-fifteen.
“You're out early,” he said. “Your invitation for Thanksgiving dinner is still open. Ann should already have the turkey in the oven.”
“We just dropped Ann off at the emergency room,” Lark said, studying the reaction on his face. “Someone shot out your bedroom window and she caught some glass in her arm and back.”
John carefully put down his drawing pencil. “Is she all right?” he asked, scanning Lacey's blank face. He shrugged into his coat and snatched his truck keys off the desk.
“She's OK,” Lark said. “I'll drive you over and Lacey can follow in your truck.”
“That won't be necessary,” John said, rushing for the door.
“I'll fill you in on the details on the way over,” Lark said, right behind him.
“Fine,” John snapped, lobbing his truck keys to Lacey. He slouched against the passenger door of the Jeep, his face a mask of despair, as Lark told him about the shooting.
“It must have happened right after I left. I stopped at the diner to get donuts and got to the office at six-fifteen. I was watching the time because I wanted to be home by nine to keep dinner on schedule. Ann makes the turkey and dressing, but the rest of the meal is mine.”
Lark made a mental note to check the time of John's visit to the Big Oak Diner.
When they pulled into the ER, Lacey was already in the waiting room. “Ann's in X-ray. The doctor wants to admit her but she refused.”
“Dammit,” John muttered, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I don't know anyone as stubborn as Ann.”
“We're going out to your house. Here's the number for my cellular.” Lark handed John one of his cards. “Call me if you need anything. If I don't hear from you, I'll call you at home, or here, if she ends up staying.”
“Yeah, right, like she's gonna stay here unless they tie her to the bed,” he said, getting his keys from Lacey.
The ER staff assured him they would come and get him as soon as Ann was back from X-ray. John settled in to watch the fish in the waitingroom aquarium and figure out how to convince her to be admitted. She was back fifteen minutes later. John had never seen her so pale. She was sitting on a cart in a hospital gown, her left arm bandaged from shoulder to elbow. She had bandages on her back and an IV in her right arm.
“I hear they want to admit you.”
“That's ridiculous. I can be here in less than fifteen minutes if I have a problem, and all I'd be staying for is IV antibiotics and fluids. I'm getting a fluid bolus and my first dose of antibiotic right now. They can cap this IV off,” she said, lifting up her arm, “and reuse it when I come in for my antibiotic.”
“Well, if the doctor's OK with your plan, then I guess I'm fine with it, too. If not, you're staying.”
“Fine with me,” Ann said. While they waited for the physician, she told him what had happened. She was convinced that she had seen
something, or someone, by the deer feeder right before the gunshot went off. She couldn't remember if she told the police and asked him to call Lark.
When he got back, Dr. Kingsley was in Ann's cubicle. He discharged her and told her to come back at 9 P.M. He confirmed that her blood count was low, and warned her that she had a lot of muscle and soft-tissue damage that could give her trouble if she didn't take it easy. Ann nodded away like one of those dolls bobbing its head in the back window of a car. The nurse capped off her IV and gave her a bottle of pain pills.
They arrived home at nine. Two sheriff's department vehicles were in the driveway and the dogs were barking in the garage. The painkillers had kicked in and Ann could hardly keep her eyes open. She staggered into the house, leaning heavily on John, and curled up on the family-room sofa. He covered her with a quilt and went upstairs.
The master bedroom was freezing. He made a mental note to get plywood to cover the window. The rose-colored carpet had four platter-sized blood-soaked spots and was covered with glass shards. There were two holes in the wall above the bed. The bathroom was a bloody disaster. He left before he fainted.
He sat on the bed in the spare bedroom for several minutes, trying to calm down, and then went back to the master bathroom. Lacey walked in while he was surveying the damage.
“How about if I help you with this mess,” she said, noting his terrified eyes. “We've already gone over this area, so it can be cleaned up.” They had confirmed the time of his visit to the Big Oak Diner. He was in the clear for the shooting.
“We've been out behind the deer feeder and Ann was right. There are boot tracks, cigarette butts, and a snowmobile trail leading to the road. We lost the trail in a muddle of tire tracks out on the road. Paul and Jim are canvassing your neighbors to find out if they saw anything.”
John stood mute as Lacey talked, his eyes scanning the room. Even in the movies, he'd never seen this much blood.
“Are you OK?” she asked, concerned by how pale his face had become.
“I gotta get out of here.” He brushed past her and ran downstairs to check on Ann, Lacey right behind him. Ann slept peacefully on the sofa. He made coffee and sat down at the island.
“Do you think this shooting is related to the bodies we found?” John asked as he handed Lacey a mug.
“We're looking into that,” Lacey replied, watching him stare at the sofa where Ann was sleeping. “I'll clean up that mess while you get Thanksgiving dinner ready. You're only a couple of hours behind. Lark and I will be here if your invitation is still open.”
“Are you sure you want to tackle the upstairs?”
“Lead me to your cleaning supplies.”
That finally coaxed a smile out of him. “You're a lifesaver. I just can't clean up Ann's blood right now. I'll get the turkey in the oven and then we'll get that window boarded up.”
NOVEMBER 23—ANN RANSON
Ann awakened to the aroma of roasting turkey and couldn't figure out why John had put the bird in without her special stuffing. Pain shot through her left arm and shoulder when she tried to get up, and the memory of her early-morning activities came rushing back. She groaned but managed to sit up, flinching when she heard gunshots off in the distance. She stood up, pulling the quilt around her shoulders. She was still in the clothes she'd worn to the hospital and had an overwhelming urge to change them. She headed upstairs just as Lark came in the front door.
He broke into a grin. “Ann, I'm so glad you're OK. Can I do anything for you? Lacey got everything cleaned up, and she and John went to get some plywood to put over the windows. I was drafted to keep an eye on you while I make some phone calls.”
“I don't need anybody to keep an eye on me,” she snapped, hobbling up the stairs.
Lacey had done an excellent job. The glass was gone and the bloodstains were now only faint wet spots on the carpet. The bathroom was
spotless. Ann wouldn't have known anything had happened if the window wasn't missing and there weren't two holes in the wall.
Even with the furnace running constantly, the bedroom was freezing, so Ann turned on the heat lamps in the bathroom. She decided to take a shower but needed to cover her sutures and IV Sighing, she walked back out to the railing and yelled for Lark.
“Can you get the Saran Wrap from the top drawer left of the sink and toss it up to me?”
“Saran Wrap?” he asked, puzzled.
“I need to keep the moisture out of my IV and dressings while I shower.”
He brought her the Saran Wrap without comment. Even with the heat lamps on and the door shut, the bathroom was freezing. Shivering, Ann convinced herself that the hot water would warm her up. Getting the Saran Wrap around her arm wasn't difficult, but covering the dressings on her back was impossible. She gave up and curled up under a quilt in the spare bedroom to wait for John. Lacey woke her up.
“What time is it?” Ann asked, struggling out from under the quilt.
“welve-thirty,” Lacey said, sitting down on the chaise across from the bed.
“It's time for more pain pills,” Ann said, grimacing as she sat up. “Where's John?”
“We couldn't find the boards he needed over at Lowery's so he called the guy who owns the lumberyard in Park Falls. Since he's such a good customer they're opening up for him. He dropped me off to see if you needed any help.”
“You mean to keep an eye on me,” Ann said.
“He's worried about you.”
“Yeah, I'm sure he is, but I'm just like an old dog when I'm sick. I want to curl up in the corner and be left alone until I feel better.” Ann slid her feet over the side of the bed and sat up. She groaned as pain shot through her arm and back.
“What can I do for you?” Lacey asked, reaching out to steady her.
She gave up and lay back down. “I'd be forever grateful if you'd get me some pain pills and a Diet Coke. The pills are in my purse downstairs. Please don't let Don Juan up here when I look like this.”
“Don Juan?”
“You know,” Ann said, motioning towards the stairs. “Mel Gibson's taller, better looking, twin … whatever.”
Lacey burst out laughing. “Now that I think about it, he does look a little like Mel but he sure doesn't act like Don Juan.” Still laughing, she went downstairs. Lark watched her dig around in Ann's purse as he talked on the phone.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked when he hung up.
“Looking for Ann's pain pills.”
Lark snatched a prescription bottle off the counter by the sink and tossed it to her. “John left them out so he could find them. Apparently, Ann's purse is just as bad as yours. No one in their right mind would leave them in that mess. They might never be found.”
“Jesus, you're irritable,” Lacey said, opening the refrigerator.
“You're right. Sorry I snapped at you. The only name on the Lands' End coat list that's connected to this case is Ann Ranson. She bought the same coat that Yellow Mitten had on.”
“Didn't she wear a red coat to the hospital this morning?”
“I think you're right,” Lark said, wondering why he hadn't remembered it.
They went to the foyer and pulled her coat out of the closet. The label read Lands' End.
“Well, I guess coincidences do happen,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Did she do anything with the Saran Wrap?” Lark asked, following her into the kitchen.
“Saran Wrap?” Lacey asked, a bemused smile on her face. “I've read about alternative uses for Saran Wrap, but I don't think the timing is good for that right now.”
“I don't have any idea what you're talking about, and from the look on your face, I'm not going to ask,” Lark said. “About an hour ago, Ann asked me to bring her the Saran Wrap so she could take a shower. I went up to check on her and found her asleep in the other bedroom.”
“First of all, Mel, you need to loosen up,” Lacey said, patting him on the arm. “I'll check it out.” She gathered up the pills and soda headed back upstairs.
“Hey,” Lark yelled, looking confused. “Why did you call me Mel?”
“You're a detective,” she quipped over her shoulder, “you figure it out.”
Ann was dozing when she got back upstairs. She sat the soda and
the pills on the table beside the bed and was just about out the door when Ann spoke.
“You don't have to leave, I'm awake. What took you so long?”
Lacey read the label, got out two pain pills, and opened the Diet Coke. “Did you get to shower?” she asked, noticing that Ann was in the same clothes she had worn to the hospital.
“No.” Ann swallowed the pills. “Could you help me with the Saran Wrap?”
“Let's wait till your pain pills kick in,” Lacey said, watching Ann wince as she got up.
“By then I'll be too sleepy. Let's get it over with. They say suffering is good for the soul. We'll do a little research and find out.”
Ann had left the bathroom door shut and the heat lamps on, so it was a little warmer than the frigid master bedroom. With Ann giving directions, Lacey wound a piece of plastic wrap around Ann's arm dressing and smoothed a couple of large pieces over her shoulder dressing.
The shower was heaven. Ann's pain pills hadn't reached their peak and her arm was still sore, but it wasn't the excruciating pain she'd felt when she first woke up. She got out of the shower and wrapped herself in her old, ratty terry cloth robe. John walked in just as she was trying to figure out how to use the curling iron with her right hand. He helped her put on her makeup and get into slacks and a sweater.
They went downstairs. John and Lark carried the plywood upstairs as Ann shuffled into the family room and flopped down on the sofa. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace and the entire downstairs smelled like Thanksgiving dinner. She decided to fix herself a snack. Just as she got into the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Ann got to the door as John and Lark clattered down the stairs. She looked through the sidelight to see Myra and David Banski, their arms loaded down with bags.
“No need to bring out the guns,” Ann said, noting Lark's hand resting on his shoulder holster. “It's only the neighbors.”
Ann opened the door and Myra rushed in, bringing a sweep of cold air and snow with her. She handed two bags to John and then unloaded her son's two bags on Lark. “I brought you a ham and all the goodies,” she said, studying Ann. “I heard you were shot and near death. I expected John to be here by himself. Thank God someone got their wires crossed.” Lacey took their coats and they went into the family room to sit down.
“Where'd you hear that?” Ann asked, trying to keep irritation out of her voice. Myra's response was delayed while John took drink orders.
“David heard it from one of the IGA checkers. Her sister works at the hospital. You don't look like you were shot.”
“Some crazy deer hunter shot out our bedroom window and I got some glass in my arm and back. They stitched me up in the ER.”
“Ann, I'm so glad you're all right. I was so worried about you and John,” Myra gushed.
“John's got a big turkey in the oven so we'll never eat all that food you brought. Should we send it over to the shelter in Park Falls?”
“Heavens, no,” Myra said, waving her hand. “The restaurant sent a bunch of food over there this morning.” She glanced at Lark. “The police went all around the lake asking if anyone saw anything funny this morning. Everyone knows something's up. You'll have lots of people checking up on you. That food will come in handy.”
“Did either of you see anything unusual this morning?” Lark asked as John returned with a tray of drinks.
Myra shook her head and took a glass of white wine. “I didn't get up until eight-thirty. Did you see anything, dear?” she asked David.
“Nothing.”
“Is this about the bodies found in the marsh?” Myra asked.
“Yes, it is. We're looking into several missing person cases from the past few years. David, do you remember a student from a few years ago who turned up missing? A Gemma Patterson?” Lark asked.
David scrunched up his forehead in thought and Ann wondered why she never ran into guys that cute when she was in college. He was clean cut with broad, football-player-type shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. His dark brown hair was cut fashionably short and his mouth was partially disguised with a newly grown goatee.
“You know, I do remember her. She came from Minneapolis. She and Sandi Waltner took a class together and hit it off.”
“Did you ever date her?” Lark asked.
David smiled. “No, but I did go out to the Pine View with Sandi, Jim Kryjack, and Gemma once. Did they ever find out what happened to her?”
“No,” Lark said, watching him.
Myra wasn't born yesterday. “Sheriff, was Gemma one of the bodies you found?”
“She's still missing. We'll be checking to see if one of the bodies is her.”
“How about a little good news after this morbid conversation,” Myra said, smiling at David. “Honey, why don't you tell them.”
David shook his head and told her to break the news.
“David and Sandi Waltner are engaged. They're getting married next year after David graduates from law school. Isn't that wonderful?” Everyone congratulated David, which led to another round of drinks before the Banskis left for their own Thanksgiving dinner.
After basting the turkey, John, Lark, and Lacey went upstairs to hammer up the last piece of plywood. Against doctor's orders, Ann took two more pain pills on top of the two glasses of wine she drank and fell into the best sleep she'd had for several days.

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