Read Cold Hunter's Moon Online
Authors: K. C. Greenlief
Cold Hunter's Moon (8 page)
On the drive back from Park Falls, he called the University of WisconsinâMadison campus police to see if they had the information on missing students ready to send. He caught the captain just before he went out of state for Thanksgiving. He informed Lark that there were four females and one male unaccounted for in the past four years. He agreed to fax information on each case to Lark. He had already faxed copies of their medical histories to Wausau. The chief gave him a cell phone number where he could be reached if anything looked promising. Lark thought back to the days before fax machines and cellular phones and wondered how anyone got anything done.
When he returned to the office, the fax machine was humming like it was about to take flight. He had calls from all of the area newspapers and most of the television stations in Wisconsin and Minnesota. He mentally began composing a press release.
He also had a message to call Janey Dawes. He picked up the Lands' End fax and leafed through it as he waited for the last two pages of the University police fax to come through. Finally, a place to start.
He got hold of Janey about eleven-fifteen. “I hope your day is better than mine,” he said when she answered.
“It probably is. We're winding down for the holiday. I've got your coat information. That anorak is a standard in our line and it's been made for several years. The product number they gave us narrows it down to three production years, 1996 through 1998, and twenty thousand size-twelve coats. Eighteen-thousand-three-hundred-twelve of them were sold through the catalog and the rest sent to the outlets. That will be another five hundred and twenty fax pages once I get them off my printer.”
Lark groaned.
“You sound like my printer. It's groaning, too.”
“Five hundred pages?” Lark said, stunned. “I'm tempted to send someone down to Dodgeville rather than put my dispatcher through that. She's liable to take out a contract on me.”
“I've got a better ideaâthat is, if it's not out of line.”
“Let's hear it, I'll consider just about anything at this point.”
“My husband and I are coming up to Rhinelander for Thanksgiving with his parents. We're leaving after work tonight and should get up there by ten. I'd be happy to bring the list with me if you could send someone over to get it. We're always up till at least midnight.”
“Janey, you're a lifesaver,” Lark said, wandering over to the map on his office wall to see how long it would take him to get there. “How about if I stop by around eleven tonight? That'll give you a little extra time in case the weather gets worse.” He looked out his window and noticed that the snow had stopped, but the sky was still covered with a blanket of low-hanging, dark gray clouds. He got directions and gave her his cell phone number just in case their plans changed.
NOVEMBER 22âTHE RANSOMS
After John and the sheriff left, Ann went to the family room to get the antiques ready to deliver to the Martens. They had vacationed in the area for years, and when their last child went off to college two years ago, they sold their home in Milwaukee and built a house on Big Oak Lake. Abraham Lincoln Marten, otherwise known as Linc, and his wife Melissa were the only black family in the area. Linc, a family practice physician, worked at the clinic in Big Oak. Melissa worked part-time as a substitute schoolteacher.
Ann had found Linc two cobalt blue medicine bottles for his collection. Melissa collected cookbooks and Ann had found her two colorillustrated, advertising cookbooks from the early 1900s that she didn't have.
Ann had also found her a box full of old Valentines and holiday postcards. Melissa made decorative boxes in her spare time. She covered them with copies of old Valentines, postcards, and pictures from her collection of old magazines. They were selling like hotcakes in gift shops in the northwoods.
Ann dug out Steve Waltner's Flow Blue bowl and got the invoice ready, then packed up the two deliveries and drove to the Martens. Normally, their house was less than ten minutes away, but snow was pelting down and it took her more than fifteen minutes to get there. Their driveway was a white tunnel with hills of snow on either side. Two snowmobiles sat on a trailer in the parking area. The house, a modern cedar and stone two-story with a wraparound deck, was built near the shore of the lake on a ten-acre parcel of land. The back exterior wall jutted out like the prow of a ship. Ann could look across the lake at night and see the entire two-and-a-half story back of their house lit up.
Melissa met Ann at the door in jeans and a smudged sweatshirt. She had wrapped a towel around her paste-splattered hands to open the door. After shedding her winter gear, Ann followed her down to her workroom in the basement. Ann took one look at the Christmas boxes spread out all over the counters and began to salivate.
“I swear, I don't know why I come over here. It always costs me money. I'm going to have to have one of those,” Ann said, pointing to a small heart-shaped box covered with Santas.
“I'll make you a hell of a deal,” Melissa joked, working the picture of a fat, rosy-cheeked Santa over the curve of a box lid. When the picture was in place, she smiled at Ann. “The Artist's Gallery in Wausau is screaming at me to get these done.” She began to apply another Santa to the lid. “Three of the kids decided at the last minute to bring friends up for the weekend. Jack and Bill and their friends will get in tonight; Shelley is driving up from Madison tomorrow with two of her girlfriends.” She stood up, stretched, and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. Deciding it was time for a break, Melissa made hot chocolate. While they drank it, she oohed and ahhed over her new cookbooks and Linc's cobalt bottles.
Ann left about three o'clock and drove to Big Oak to drop Steve Waltner's bowl off at the marina. The office was open but both Steve and his assistant were gone. The guy manning the gas pumps declined to take the package, saying he was afraid it would get broken. He told Ann he would have Steve call her. Once again, Ann wondered if the rumors she'd heard about Steve and his assistant were really true.
NOVEMBER 22âSWENSON
Lark spent most of the afternoon cross-referencing lists. He compared the five names from the campus police against the list of boot purchasers faxed from Lands' End. No match. He compared the campus police list against the list of UWâMadison students from the area that Flo had provided. No match. No one from the Mason County list had purchased the red Lands' End boots.
He was interrupted several times. L. L. Bean had manufactured 7,500 pairs of the size-six black boot Yellow Mitten was wearing. Most of them were sold through their catalog. Eddie Bauer had made 15,000 of Yellow Mitten's medium-size coat, most of them also sold as catalog purchases. Eddie Bauer agreed to Express Mail the customer lists to him.
About three-thirty Wausau called to tell Lark they might have a match between Red Boot and a medical record from the University police. Gemma Patterson, a student missing since 1997, had fractured her right radius and ulnar when she was fifteen. They were waiting for her X-rays and dental records to make a final determination. Lark culled through his other two lists but didn't find any link to her.
He realized he hadn't had any lunch and was headed to the Big Oak Diner when Joel and Lacey walked into his office about four-thirty. He forgot about being hungry and poured what must have been his tenth cup of coffee for the day. Joel was updating him on their search when Flo called Joel to the phone.
Joel didn't seem to be in his usual jovial mood when he got off the phone. “I'm going back to Wausau tonight. My oldest has chicken pox and Molly's mother is on her way up from Indiana for Thanksgiving. I'll stay home tomorrow, and if you need me I'll drive back on Friday. Lacey, can you stay and give Lark a hand with this?”
“Sure thing. Hope Robbie's OK,” she said, glancing over at Lark. “Can your dispatcher find me a place to stay?”
“She'll try, but it may be a lost cause,” Lark said, smiling at her. “You're more than welcome to stay at my place. I've got room, and I can assure you I'm harmless.”
“Harmless, my ass,” Joel said, smirking at Lark. “I remember when you were single.”
“That was a long time ago,” Lark said, turning away to replenish his coffee.
Joel took the hint and changed the subject. “As far as we can tell, the rest of the Ransons' marsh looks clean. We didn't go over every square inch, but I think we would have found another body unless it's been buried. If that's the case, we won't find it until spring, if ever.”
“We didn't find the missing hand from Jane Doe Two, but there's a lot of wildlife in those woods. If it's been out there a couple of years, it could be anywhere,” Lacey said. “We should search the woods on each side of the marsh tomorrow and call it good unless we find something.”
Lark filled them in on his day, including the possible identification of Red Boot. He promised he'd call Joel at home as soon as he knew something and told him to watch the ten o'clock news. Joel left Big Oak a little after five.
Lark went over his progress on the list comparisons with Lacey and updated her on his trip to Rhinelander, planned for later that night. Flo wasn't able to find a motel room and they decided that Lacey would stay with him. He was just starting to write a press release on the two bodies when Jim and Paul staggered in. Between helping with the search and dealing with routine calls, they were exhausted.
Jim came into Lark's office to give an update on the abandoned car
he'd investigated earlier that morning. “It's a 1998 gray Taurus registered to Lippert Motors from Wausau. Someone ditched it in the parking lot at Grezetski's Market.” He flipped through his notebook. “I called Lippert's and, would you believe, they didn't have any idea they had a car missing.”
he'd investigated earlier that morning. “It's a 1998 gray Taurus registered to Lippert Motors from Wausau. Someone ditched it in the parking lot at Grezetski's Market.” He flipped through his notebook. “I called Lippert's and, would you believe, they didn't have any idea they had a car missing.”
“You're kidding.” Lark said, leaning across his desk. “Was it hotwired?”
“Nope. We found the ignition and trunk keys under the front passenger seat. They were on one of those generic key chains with nothing else on it. There were lots of fingerprints on the car, but all the areas of high use. The door handles, steering wheel, instrument panel, and radio controls were smudged out, probably from someone wearing gloves. The woman who reported the car said it had been parked in the lot since Sunday morning. No one had any idea how it got there.” Jim flipped his notebook shut and frowned at Lark. “I had the car towed to Tetzloff's garage until we decide what to do with it.”
“Good work,” Lark said, patting him on the back as they walked out of the office. “I'll drop by and take a look at it in the morning.”
Jim and Paul clocked out, making plans to meet at the Pine View for dinner on Jim's family. Lark wished he was as carefree as they appeared to be. Flo clocked out and waved good-bye with a flash of her turkey decals. The decals reminded him that tomorrow was Thanksgiving and he had nothing to feed his houseguest; one more item on his endless to-do list.
By six-thirty the press release was ready for Mary Lou, the night dispatcher, to fax out. Lark gave her instructions on how to respond to any calls about the case. His stomach growled as he updated her on his trip to Rhinelander. He went in search of Lacey and found her asleep in the workroom. As he was debating whether to wake her up, she opened her eyes and yawned.
“Why don't we get the hell out of here and grab something to eat?”
Yawning again, Lacey dragged herself up out of the chair. “All that work outside seems to have worn me out.”
Lark watched her shrug into her coat. The dark circles under her eyes stood out against her pale face. “On second thought, why don't we go home and I'll fix us something to eat. Then you can go to bed and I'll run over to Rhinelander.”
“I've got a better idea,” Lacey said, heading for the door. “Why don't
I take a quick nap while you eat something light to take the edge off your hunger. Then I'll ride to Rhinelander with you and we can have dinner in a great restaurant I know there. That way neither of us will be alone tonight.”
I take a quick nap while you eat something light to take the edge off your hunger. Then I'll ride to Rhinelander with you and we can have dinner in a great restaurant I know there. That way neither of us will be alone tonight.”
“Deal,” Lark said, glancing at his watch. “This doesn't give you much time for a nap. We've got to be on the road by eight.”
“I can sleep in the car. God knows, I've slept in worse places.”
Lacey dozed on the drive to Lark's house and went directly upstairs, asking him to wake her up thirty minutes before they were supposed to leave.
Lark rummaged around in the refrigerator, finally settling on a glass of milk and the last of a bunch of grapes to snack on. He settled into his favorite chair in the family room and fast-forwarded through the tape of the Wausau Channel Nine news, stopping to view all coverage of the murders. There was nothing new or particularly harmful, although he winced as he saw the amount of photo coverage on the Ransons' property. He trotted upstairs to get the tape he'd set for Channel Twelve out of Rhinelander. It was pretty much the same. He made a mental note to watch the coverage of Channel Thirteen out of Eau Claire as soon as he got back to the office. He popped both tapes back in the VCRs and set them to record the ten o'clock news.
Lark took a shower and threw on gray pants and a light gray cashmere sweater Maria had given him. He spent the time before they had to leave reading a few pages of the latest Dick Francis.
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