Read Cold Hunter's Moon Online
Authors: K. C. Greenlief
Cold Hunter's Moon (19 page)
“Damn if I know, I was trying to finish up with Lark's windows,” John said, pausing to take a drag on his Marlboro. “I called her earlier and told her that I wouldn't be home until late. I can't imagine why she'd drive over here in this weather.”
“The car smells like beer and there's a sack of food spilled in the car. Could she have been bringing you dinner?”
“Shit,” John said, rubbing his hand across his five o'clock shadow. “Yeah, she does that sometimesâbrings us a surprise picnic supper when I'm working late.” He flicked his cigarette butt into the snow and walked back to the car.
Lacey saw the flashing lights of the Park Falls ambulance. Thirty
minutes later the ambulance crew was on its way to the hospital with Ann and John. Lacey and Lark walked the road attempting to trace Ann's skid marks and figure out what happened. It was next to impossible to find the Explorer tracks between the foot traffic and ambulance tracks. Within another thirty minutes, Ann's Explorer was loaded on Tetzloff's flatbed to be towed into Big Oak. Lark drove John's truck to the hospital on his way back to the station.
minutes later the ambulance crew was on its way to the hospital with Ann and John. Lacey and Lark walked the road attempting to trace Ann's skid marks and figure out what happened. It was next to impossible to find the Explorer tracks between the foot traffic and ambulance tracks. Within another thirty minutes, Ann's Explorer was loaded on Tetzloff's flatbed to be towed into Big Oak. Lark drove John's truck to the hospital on his way back to the station.
NOVEMBER 24âTHE HOSPITAL
“Don't even think about it,” John said as Lark and Lacey walked into Ann's room. She had been admitted to the ICU because of her loss of consciousness.
“I want to go home,” Ann said. She was sitting up in bed, her back ramrod straight, obviously mad as hell. Her hair was frizzed out like she'd received a jolt of electricity and her hospital snap gown had slid off one shoulder. An IV dripped into her arm and she was hooked up to a heart monitor. John reached out to pull her gown back up on her shoulder and she smacked his hand away.
“I can tell you how to do a neuro check. I did the damn things for so long, I can do them in my sleep. They already said there's nothing on my head CT.”
“That's what I've always thought. Now, at last we have proof,” John said, humoring her.
“Asshole,” she said, flopping down and turning away from them.
“Honey, I'm just teasing. I'm really afraid something will go wrong.
At least here they can help you if something happens.” He walked to the other side of the bed and rubbed her shoulder.
At least here they can help you if something happens.” He walked to the other side of the bed and rubbed her shoulder.
“Fine,” she shouted, pulling away from him.
John motioned for Lacey and Lark to leave. He kissed Ann's shoulder and followed them into the hall.
“Thank God she doesn't have a fractured skull, but she does have a concussion. They told me that people temporarily lose some of their inhibition control with frontal lobe concussions. That must be why she's reacting this way. She's never been a good patient, but I've never seen her like this.”
“Does she remember anything about the accident?” Lacey asked.
“I don't know. All we've done is argue over going home. I think she might try and sign herself out,” John said, stepping back to peek in the window.
“Would you mind if we talked with her for a few minutes?” Lark asked.
“OK, as long as you stop if she gets agitated,” John said, heading back into her room.
When she heard the door open Ann turned over, tears streaming down her cheeks. “John, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me,” she sobbed.
“Ah, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“Ann, are you up to talking with us?” Lacey asked, pulling a chair up to her bed.
“Of course, anything to help.” She wiped her tears with the corner of her sheet.
“Do you remember what caused your accident?”
Ann pulled her sheet up to her neck. “It was snowing hard. I slid a little bit and remember thinking how glad I was that John was just up the road in case something happened. I heard a loud noise and the car veered out of control. It was a blowout, wasn't it?” She looked back and forth between Lark and Lacey for confirmation.
“Blowouts can be very loud,” Lark said, noticing that the left side of her lip was already swollen to twice its normal size. Her left temple was swollen and her forehead was abraded and reddened.
“The car was suddenly very hard to steer. It spun around and I hit my head and then nothing. How bad is the car?” she asked John.
“It's at Tetzloff's. Don't worry about it, we'll figure it out tomorrow.”
“Ann, just one more question,” Lacey said. “I hate to ask you this. There were broken beer bottles all over the floor of your car. Were you drinking?”
“Oh, no, I was bringing dinner to John and his crew and I threw in a six-pack of Leinies at the last minute. I'll sign a permit for a legal blood alcohol to be drawn. I don't want any question in the community or with the insurance company.”
Lark and Lacey left to give John and Ann some privacy. John's crew was installing the last door when they got to Lark's. The house still felt like an icebox. After building fires in the family room and bedroom, they wolfed down cold turkey sandwiches while they watched the news tapes on Lark's new television. They were cleaning up the dishes when the phone rang.
It was Joel, calling from Madison to let them know that the Pattersons had been located at a relative's cabin in northern Minnesota. They had been notified about Gemma's body and had agreed to be interviewed in Eau Claire the next day at noon.
“How long does it take to get to Eau Claire?” Lacey asked, looking at her watch and yawning.
“Four hours in this weather. We've got to be on the road by seven-thirty,” Lark said, dousing the family-room fire.
“I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years.” Lacey yawned again and headed for the staircase. “Wonder how cold it is upstairs?”
“Too cold to sleep separately,” Lark said, following her.
“I just want to get a good night's sleep and keep warm,” she said, stifling yet another yawn. “At this rate I'll be asleep before my head hits the pillow.” Lacey went into her room and changed into fresh sweats.
“My room's ice-cold, but with that fire and the door shut it isn't half bad in here,” she said as she walked into Lark's room. “I can just barely see my breath.”
He'd already changed into sweats and was stoking up the fire. She looked around the room, realizing that she'd been so tired the night before that she hadn't noticed much about it. His bed was a kingsized, dark cherry Shaker-style four poster covered with a navy-and-burgundy plaid comforter. A tall chest, two nightstands, and a long mirror-topped dresser, all matching the bed, were spread around the room. A burgundy leather recliner sat in the corner near the window. The bed was directly across from the massive floor-to-ceiling fieldstone
fireplaceâno small feat since the ceiling was vaulted. Old maps of northern Wisconsin were framed on the wall. A picture of a very pretty woman in an ornate gold frame sat on Lark's nightstand. Lacey's heart flew to her throat when she realized the woman was probably Lark's late wife.
fireplaceâno small feat since the ceiling was vaulted. Old maps of northern Wisconsin were framed on the wall. A picture of a very pretty woman in an ornate gold frame sat on Lark's nightstand. Lacey's heart flew to her throat when she realized the woman was probably Lark's late wife.
She got into bed and crawled under the covers, snatching glances at the picture. The woman had a gorgeous smile and warm, friendly eyes. Lacey thought she looked like someone she would like to get to know. Rolling on her side away from the picture, she found herself staring out the window and discovered that Lark had left the perimeter lights on. They reflected on the falling snow, creating a fairyland effect. Lark snapped off the overhead lights and the room went dark except for the glow from the fire. She felt the mattress give as he got into bed beside her.
“In the right circumstances this could be heaven,” she said drowsily.
“What? Sorry, I didn't hear you.” He rolled over on his back.
“In the right circumstances, this could be heaven.”
“Go to sleep,” he said, turning on his side away from her. “It's after midnight.”
She attempted to settle herself into a comfortable sleeping position. No matter what she did, the pillows were either too high or not high enough. The covers didn't seem to lay right and she couldn't get her body positioned to rest.
“What's wrong?” he mumbled. “You're whipping around like a cyclone.”
“Can you believe it? Now that I'm in bed I'm not sleepy.” She rolled over on her back and pulled the covers up under her chin.
He grunted.
“You've even got skylights in here,” she said, looking up at the two glass domes in the ceiling.
Lark grunted again.
“Jeez, I can't believe this. Now that my eyes have adjusted, I can see a few stars.”
“I'm going to âjeez' you in a minute if you don't shut up and go to sleep.”
“Crab ass.”
“What did youâhey, what the hell are you doing now?” Lark asked, sitting up as she slid out of bed.
“I don't know.” She walked to the window. “Maybe I should take the Ransons' up on staying at their place. Doesn't this setup make you a little nervous?” She turned around and looked into his eyes.
“I'm too damn tired to be nervous. How is this different than last night?”
“I was beyond exhausted last night. All that wine and the adrenaline rush with the shooting wore me out. I guess I'm not quite as tired tonight.”
“Well, I am. What do you want to do?” he asked, his words coming out in white puffs.
“Do you care if I read?”
“Heavens, no. I could sleep if klieg lights were shining on me.”
Lacey went to her room for her book. When she got back to Lark's room, he was sitting in the chair.
“I'll sleep downstairs on the sofa in front of the fire and you can sleep up here,” he said, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Now that I think about this, it is a bit awkward.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” she said as she climbed into bed. “I don't know what got into me. This is fine. If I was in this circumstance with any other friend, I wouldn't hesitate to do this to keep warm. Why should it be any different with you?” She settled into bed, propping two pillows behind her back and pulling the covers up around her.
Lark continued to sit in the chair, his face impassive, watching her.
“Jesus Christ, Lark,” she said, patting the comforter. “We're adults and we're law enforcement officers, for God's sake.”
He climbed back into bed and they talked, avoiding any discussion about the case. An hour later, Lacey was talking about a case she'd worked on in Madison when she heard a faint snore. Lark was sound asleep. She slid down in the bed, suddenly very sleepy herself. The last thing she remembered was turning out the light.
NOVEMBER 25âANN RANSOM
Ann awakened with the mother of all headaches, confused about where she was. She knew immediately that she wasn't in her own bed because when she reached out to turn on the light, her hand hit something hard. As her fingers curled around it, she realized it was the side rail of her hospital bed. Flashbacks from the car accident flooded her mind. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she looked around the room for the clock she knew was somewhere on the wall. When she was unable to find it, she made a mental note to have all the clocks replaced with ones that glowed in the dark. Pain shot through her shoulders and back when she tried to sit up. Just as she got herself situated, a voice from the corner of the room startled her into agonizing pain.
“I'm so glad you're awake.”
“Who is it?” Ann asked, peering into the darkness.
“It's me, Betty Chevsky.” Betty came over to the bed and took Ann's hand.
“Betty can you please turn a light on?”
The overhead light flashed on and sent shock waves of pain
through her head. Despite the pain in her back and shoulders, Ann pulled her arms up to cover her face. She cried out and Betty ran back to the bedside.
through her head. Despite the pain in her back and shoulders, Ann pulled her arms up to cover her face. She cried out and Betty ran back to the bedside.
“Should I get the nurse?”
“No, just turn the light off,” Ann said, gritting her teeth with pain. “Turn the bathroom light on.”
The overhead light went off and the softer bathroom light came on. It dulled her headache to the point where it was tolerable.
“Is that better?” Betty asked, coming back to her bedside.
“Much,” Ann said, attempting to smile. “How is your son?”
“He's in detox in Rhinelander. Things are really hard for him right now. I got to talk with him for the first time last night.”
“Rhinelander will do a good job with him. They have a very good reputation,” Ann said, closing her eyes in hopes of shutting out the pain. “What time is it?”
“Quarter after six. I get off at seven, but I wanted to check up on you before I left.”
“Thank you for coming,” Ann said, opening her eyes to see Betty staring down at her.
She took Ann's hand. “I'm sorry this is happening to you. I hope it stops soon.”
“I had a blowout. My car went out of control and I hit my head. Good thing I had on my seat belt.”
“Thank God it was just a blowout.”
“It hurts like hell right now. Could you ask the nurse to bring me something for pain?”
“Yes, ma'am. I'll do that right now,” Betty said, leaving the room.
Ann fell asleep dreaming that someone had her head in a vice. She roused enough to take a couple of pain pills and fell back into a troubled sleep. She woke up when John came in at 8:30 and was home in her own bed by early afternoon.
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