Death at the Door (30 page)

June 8—Eighth District Police Station,
New Orleans, Louisiana

Burt Ladeau was waiting for Joel and the female officer he'd brought with him to escort Celeste back to Wisconsin. Being a police officer had its benefits. His car was parked right out in front of the airport, his partner in the driver's seat with the motor running and the air-conditioning going full blast. It was a good thing because Joel was mopping sweat off his face before he even got of the plane.

“Your little lady has kept her mouth shut even though she knows she's headed back to Wisconsin. I'd think she'd be trying to cut a deal by now,” Ladeau said as they pulled into the station lot.

“Is her lawyer with her?” Joel asked. “We'd like to talk with her before we leave for Chicago. We've got a couple of hours. It sure would be nice to know where we stand with her before we head back. We've got her brother tagged for a murder and an assault, but we can't link him to the robberies yet.”

“Did you all find him?”

Joel shook his head. “Last we heard he had rented a car in Escanaba, Michigan. We think he's trying to get back to Canada. We've got the border patrol as well as state and local law enforcement on alert from Maine to Washington. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Joel said as he got out of the car. “How in the hell do you all stand this heat and humidity?”

“Lots of air-conditioning,” Ladeau said, laughing. “We can't figure out how you all stand the cold and the snow.”

“Lots of alcohol,” Joel said as he walked into the air-conditioned police station.

“Funny, we use it to keep cool,” Ladeau said as he led Joel and his partner to an interview room.

Despite Celeste's height, Joel's image when she and her attorney walked in the room was of a sparrow being escorted by a peacock. Celeste, in plain prison garb, her face devoid of makeup and her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, looked like a gangly eighteen-year-old. Andrea Sinead, Celeste's attorney, was decked out in a beautifully tailored dark purple suit over a red silk blouse that set off both her red hair and her cleavage. Her tiny feet were encased in stiletto heels so thin and tall that Joel couldn't figure out how she walked in them.

“Look,” Ms. Sinead said as she dropped her briefcase on the floor and leaned over the table toward Joel. “My client isn't going to say a word unless she gets her charges plea-bargained down.” She waved a finger in front of Joel. “No jail time and she'll talk with you.”

“I can't take that request to the DA unless I know what she has to say,” Joel replied, using most of his concentration to keep his eyes on the attorney's face.

“No deal,” Andrea said as she sat down in the chair across from him.

“We've got a witness who makes your client's brother good for the assault on a police officer and the murder of an architect.” Joel kept his eyes on Celeste as he talked. “Maybe she'd like to go down with her brother for those as well as the robberies.”

Celeste grabbed her attorney's arm.

“My client and I would like to talk alone.” Andrea flicked her head toward the door. Joel and Burt left the room. They walked down the hall to get a soda while they waited to be called back in the room. It didn't take long.

“My client didn't have anything to do with the assault or murder,” Ms. Sinead said. “In fact, she hasn't been in Door County in several years. She has agreed to give you a statement in return for leniency for her part in selling the stolen goods.”

“I want her signed statement before we leave here.”

Celeste nodded and Burt turned on the tape recorder. “Simon called me last fall. He had an idea about how we could make some easy money. He was planning on divorcing Rose, but he had signed a prenuptial agreement that cut him out of everything except the money he made on the restaurants. Rosemary's was doing well but the Café was barely breaking even. Together they weren't making enough money to support him once he was divorced. He had this idea about robbing the houses of the rich people who only lived in Door County for a part of the year. Most of them ate in one or both of his restaurants, so he knew when their homes were empty.”

“How did he get in and out?” Joel asked.

“That was a piece of cake for Simon.” Celeste leaned over and whispered to her attorney.

“Simon has experience with this kind of thing and can get in and out of just about anywhere. That's all we're willing to say on that subject,” Andrea said.

“Simon agreed to only go after the best and we worked out a plan for me to sell the antiques.” Celeste turned her eyes to Detective Ladeau. “May I have a cigarette?”

“Honey, we'll take you out for a smoke as soon as you're done with your statement.” Ladeau smiled at the withering look she gave him.

“If you haven't been to Door County in years, how did you get the antiques?” Joel asked.

“Simon shipped them to me. He and Rose have property in Chicago. He drove them down there and used a trucking company out of Chicago to send them to me. We did everything we could to not be seen together.”

“What can you tell me about Paul's murder?”

“Not much,” Celeste replied. “Simon told me that Paul was driving up from Chicago late one night and saw him pulling out of the driveway of one of the houses he had robbed. Simon didn't see him but he believed him because Paul knew too much about the robbery. Apparently he had seen Simon drop some stuff off at the DuBois House, the place up the road from the Gradoute House where Rose's mother and father stay for their annual summer trip to Door County. Once the robberies were reported in the paper, he put two and two together. He confronted Simon and told him he would go to the police if he didn't agree to talk Rose out of converting the house to a bed-and-breakfast. He also told Simon that Daisy knew about his suspicions. Simon went to play golf with Paul to tell him that Rose wasn't interested in stopping the bed-and-breakfast.”

“Do you know anything about the attack on Daisy?”

“Just that he was obsessed with what Daisy knew about the robberies. We didn't discuss what happened to her.”

“Where's the money you made from the auctions?” Joel asked.

“I don't know.”

“If we don't get that information, there won't be any deal.”

“It's in a bank in the Caymans under my name. Simon and I both have to cosign for any funds to be removed. When I get my deal, you'll get the account number and my pin number.”

“Account number now so we can confirm it, and your pin number when your plea bargain is done.”

“Agreed.”

“Anything else?” Joel asked.

Celeste shook her head.

Ladeau turned off the tape recorder. “We'll get this transcribed so you can sign it and everyone can have copies before we part ways.” He grinned at Celeste. “Let's get you outside for that cigarette.”

Joel got Celeste back to Sturgeon Bay that night. She was assigned a public defender and arraigned. She was denied bail and placed in jail.

June 9—Door County, Wisconsin

Sheriff Skewski got the call at 9
A.M
. on Saturday morning. Simon Gradoute had been caught at the tiny Port of Entry between Emerson, Manitoba, and Noyes, Minnesota. The Michigan plates on the car had initially alerted the border patrol. Joel left for Minnesota to question him. The plan was to extradite him to Wisconsin to stand trial for the burglaries and the murder of Paul Larsen.

Even after hearing about Celeste's and Angelina's statements, Simon refused to say anything. He was arrested for the attempted murder of Lacy Smith and remanded to the Door County jail in Sturgeon Bay pending charges for the murder of Paul Larsen, attempted murder of Daisy DuBois, and multiple counts of breaking and entering and felony theft.

June 9—Door County Memorial Hospital,
Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin

With his services no longer needed by the state police, Lark was free to go back to Big Oak. He packed his bags and checked out of the Edgewater Resort.

He left a note for Ann and John. They were spending Ann's last day in Door County doing interviews about the carnival glass Ann had found. The mystery of the four missing dinner plates was solved. Paul had found two of the plates in his grandmother's house. They were the two plates he'd tried to give Rose for the Thomas Lee room. The other two plates had been stolen from the Johansens' house along with other pieces of rare carnival glass. They had been sold at auction, and Russ was tracking them down for the insurance company. The Johansens confirmed that they had purchased them ten years ago for $300 each from an elderly woman at a flea market in Sturgeon Bay. Skewski had gone to the nursing home twice to talk with Minevra about the carnival glass in her attic. She had gone from lucid to agitated and incoherent each time he mentioned the glass. Skewski had his suspicions that she was faking, but the nursing home staff said that frequently happened to Minnie and insisted that he leave both times.

Rose and Paul's wife had agreed to display the glass in a gallery in Ephraim. They were in discussions about selling the glass but were having some trouble coming to an agreement on how it would be done. Rose wanted to sell it only as a set, and Paul's wife was fine if it was sold piece by piece. The one thing they both agreed on was that they wanted Ann to have the two plates Paul had found. Ann joyfully accepted the gift.

Lark headed south for Sturgeon Bay after running a few last-minute errands. He walked into Lacey's hospital room and was stunned to see Russ sitting on one side of her bed and Gene sitting on the other. The room was filled with flowers. He instantly regretted the dozen red roses he was carrying. He saw a box sitting in Lacey's lap and was glad that he had also bought her a little something to cheer her up. Not that she looked like she needed it sitting there smiling at Russ and Gene. There were no more visitor chairs in the room so he stood at the foot of the bed.

She smiled and waved her hand to acknowledge his arrival and went back to her conversation with Russ. Lark noticed that she was dressed in a washed-out hospital gown and still had an IV in her arm. Despite her smile she looked exhausted. Her face, normally pale due to her redhead's complexion, was washed-out, emphasizing her large blue eyes and the bluish circles under them. Someone had pinned her hair up on top of her head, but, as usual, tendrils had escaped and hung around her face and neck as if her face was framed in silky vines. She finished her conversation with Russ and focused on Lark.

“Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. How did you know I love roses?” She reached out for the vase and he moved to her side to give her the bouquet. He knew it was petty but he was pleased that Russ had to move out of the way for him to get to her side. She stuck her nose into the roses and inhaled the way she did when she got her first smell of coffee in the morning. She handed the vase back to him and motioned toward the windowsill.

“Any more bouquets and this room will officially look like funeral parlor.”

Lark put the flowers in the window and sat down on the foot of her bed. He noted that she didn't move her feet away from him when he put his hand down beside them.

“How's she doing?” he asked Gene.

“Better than expected.” Gene sat forward in his chair. “The bullet went through her right shoulder without hitting anything major. The bullet into her abdomen did a fair amount of soft-issue damage and destroyed her left ovary and tube. We took those out.” Gene reached over and squeezed Lacey's hand. “She has her right tube and ovary, so babies are still in her future.”

“Yeah, right,” Lacey said, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “Like I've got big prospects in that department.”

Gene's pager went off. He stood up and pulled it off his belt to read the number. “Gotta go.” He leaned down and kissed Lacey. “I'll see you later.” He glanced over at Lark and Russ. “Looks like you're in good hands for now.”

Russ looked at his watch and pulled his chair back over toward her. “I've gotta got too. I'm going to Key West to work on a case day after tomorrow. Why don't I get these assignments in the winter instead of the summer?” He pointed at the box in Lacey's lap. “Are you going to open that before I leave?”

“Oh, sorry.” She picked up the red-paisley-wrapped box and admired the large lace bow on the top. She grinned at Russ. “I hope this isn't anything evil.” She heard something slide around as she shook the box.

Russ put his hand to his chest, a look of mock shock on his face. “Now what in heaven's name would make you think I'd ever buy you something evil? Fun, yes; evil, never.”

Lacey giggled as she ripped the paper off the box. She pulled back the red tissue paper and gasped. Inside lay the black-leather-and-red-lace bustier they had looked at in New Orleans. She glanced up at Lark's stunned face and blushed.

“Russell O'Flaherty, how could you? How did you?” Despite her tone, she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

“It's the one we looked at. I had plenty of time to go back and buy it. I had them put the receipt inside since you already knew how much it was. You can exchange it if it's the wrong size.”

She pulled it out of the box to check the size. “It looks like it's right on the money. How'd you—”

Russ interrupted her as he stood up. “I've had way too much experience in guessing women's sizes. Plus I got a little help from the rain. Remember?”

She nodded at him, still blushing.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It can be exchanged, but I've given the boys strict orders that you cannot just return it.” He whispered into her ear loud enough for Lark to hear. “Trust me on this. The effect is guaranteed, so use it wisely.” He got up and waggled his fingers at her as he headed for the door. “Remember what I told you.”

She laughed and her blush deepened.

He turned around just as he got to the door. “I'll call you when I get back from Key West and help you out with that little family thing we talked about.” He waved and was gone.

Lacey folded the bustier and put it back in the box. She smoothed the red tissue paper over it and set the box off to her side. She looked into Lark's eyes, her face scarlet with embarrassment. “Russell is…well, he's Russell. I've never known anyone quite like him.”

Despite the two empty chairs Lark continued to sit on her bed. He forced his mind away from the bustier and the images that were running through his mind. He didn't want to think about what it implied about Lacey's relationship with Russ.

“You gave me quite a scare,” he said, patting her leg. He thought about the shooting and conjured up images of her crumpled on the dock, blood seeping out of her abdomen and shoulder. A shiver ran through him. He tried to put that incident out of his mind and focus on the here and now.

“I gave myself quite a scare. For a while I thought I might be seeing my parents a little sooner than I expected.” She leaned forward and took his hand between hers. He moved closer to her and pulled her into his arms. She groaned with pain and pulled away, holding her side.

“You need me to go get the nurse?” he asked, concerned by the pain he saw in her face.

“No, no.” She grabbed his hand. “There's morphine in my IV and I can dose myself as I need it.” She showed him the control they had given her. “The pain will be better in a few minutes.” She pushed the button on her side rail that lowered the head of her bed and leaned back against her pillows. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Lark found a washcloth and ran it under the cold water in the sink. He sat back down at her bedside and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“Uhm, that feels so much better.” She gave him a loopy smile and he relaxed, knowing her pain medication was kicking in. “Thank you for what you did out there. If you hadn't been there, I probably would have bled to death on the dock.”

“You scared ten years off my life.”

“That's the last thing we need,” she said, barely able to keep her eyes open. “I owe you my life and you know what that means.” She pulled his hand up to her face and kissed his palm. “I love your hands.” She cuddled his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes, giving in to her need to sleep.

Lark sat with her until the nurse came in and made him leave.

 

Lacey awoke in a darkened room with the nurse standing over her checking her pulse. “I sent your man packing,” the nurse said, releasing her wrist. “He put up one hell of a fight to stay, but you need your rest. He asked me to give you this as soon as you woke up.” She handed Lacey the box Lark had walked in with.

Lacey powered her bed into a sitting position and untaped the white wrapping paper sprigged with red and pink roses. She folded the wrapping paper she had so carefully removed from the box and asked the nurse to put it in her bedside table so she could save it. She pulled the lid off the box from the Hardy Gallery, revealing a sparkling red-glass-bead necklace and matching earrings. It was the jewelry she had admired when she and Lark had gone there to pick up the guest list from the opening Daisy DuBois had attended. She noticed a small envelope under the necklace. It contained a card with a red rose on the front:
I saw you admiring these when we were in the Hardy Gallery. As soon as you're well, I'll drive over to Wausau and take you to dinner. Please wear these. Get well soon, Lark.

The nurse could think of only one reason why any woman in her right mind would burst into tears when a gorgeous man had left her such a beautiful gift.