Shelf Ice (2 page)

 
Ray followed them and climbed in, standing off to the side as they cut open Ben’s jacket and inserted an IV in his right arm. In a few moments the tubing and bag were attached. One of the EMTs, the young woman, was on the radio to the trauma center as the other one continued to work at Ben’s side.

 
Ray moved forward when Ben opened his eyes. He blinked several times and looked toward Ray, only his eyes moving, his head tightly secured against the board.

“What the hell was that all about?” Ben asked Ray, a weak smile on his face.

“Beats me. Probably an attitude problem,” Ray responded. “How are you feeling?”

 
“Got one hell of a headache and an arm that hurts like…,” he rolled his eyes toward his left arm.

Ray looked over at the EMT. The man carefully palpated Ben’s left arm, starting at the shoulder and working his way down to the wrist.
 
He looked over at Ray briefly and down at Ben.

“Pain’s in here, isn’t it?” he said, running his hands over the central part of Ben’s upper arm. “We’ll get a splint on that, buddy. Have you a lot more comfortable in a few minutes.
 
Then we’ll run to the hospital. They’re standing around waiting for you.”

Ben looked over at Ray. “Will you call Maureen and let her know that I’m okay.”

“I’ll phone her and send someone to pick her up. Just make sure they don’t release you before she gets there.” Ray squeezed Ben’s fingers and then pushed one of the doors open and gingerly climbed out of the back of the ambulance. He found Sue Lawrence waiting for him. Sue, young and intense, worked with Ray on most of the department’s major investigations and did crime scene investigations. Ray looked on Ben and Sue as the core of his leadership team.

 
“How is Ben?” she asked.

 
Before responding Ray led Sue down the road, away from the noise of the diesel. “He’s got a broken arm and probably a concussion. Who knows what else they’ll find.”

“Fill me in.”

“Ben’s car got smashed by a plow coming down the driveway away from the house. He was knocked unconscious and trapped in the wreckage. I had a hell-of-a-time getting him out. We’ve got to get in there and find out what happened,” said Ray, motioning down the road.

“I need to get my jeep out of the way of the ambulance,” said Sue.

“I’ll call Ben’s wife. Pick me up on the way in.” As a parting thought, Ray added, “Have central dispatch call for another ambulance. Who knows what we will find when we get in there.” He paused for a moment. “Also have them put out a bulletin on the plow. The driver should be considered extremely dangerous.”

“What’s the description of the vehicle? Pickup truck with plow?”

“No. It’s a big truck, like one of our county jobs. Diesel with a big curved plow. Can’t tell you anything more. That was all I could see.”

 
Sue disappeared into the swirl of snow, pulsating lights, and throbbing engines. Ray moved up the road, away from the noise, and retrieved his cell phone from an inner pocket. He found Ben’s home number, pushed the dialer, and waited uncomfortably for Ben’s wife to answer.

3.

Ray’s conversation with Ben’s wife, Maureen, was short and as reassuring as possible. Fortunately, one of Ben’s children was home from college and would drive Maureen to the hospital.

Ray wandered up the road toward the house, passed the burned-out hulk of the police car, the smell of burnt rubber and plastic fouling the crisp winter air. He walked 40 or 50 yards more. Sue brought her Jeep up the road behind him and flashed her high beams.

“Who’s behind us?” Ray asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Brett Carty is in the first car. State cop in the second. Young guy, Charles something, didn’t get his last name.”

They snaked up the road between the high banks of snow, finally rolling into a plowed clearing in front of a small log building.
 
Sue rolled to a stop, leaving room for the other two cars to move to her right and left. She switched on the high beams, clearly illuminating the house. A small, shaggy terrier stood on the porch glaring at them. Smoke curled from the chimney, and light from the brightly lit interior flooded out of the windows and reflected off the snow-covered landscape.

Before starting toward the house, the four officers paused briefly in front of Sue’s Jeep. Ray quickly introduced himself and the others to the state trooper, Charles Lagonni.

 
“Sue and I will go to the front porch, see what we can see through the windows, and enter if it appears safe. I think the assailant has left the area, but let’s be cautious.
 
Brett, I want you to cover the rear of the building, and Charles, I want you to provide back up and cover from here. Any questions?”

The three other officers nodded their heads, indicating that they were clear on what to do next. As Ray and Sue approached the porch, the dog took a menacing stance at the front door, the hair on the back of his head standing stiff, his mouth open, and his lips pulled back displaying his teeth. A low growl became a sharp, hostile bark.

“Just what we need,” said Ray, looking over at Sue. “What do we do now?”

Sue holstered her weapon and approached the dog, talking in a low, quiet voice. With her right hand she gestured, moving an open hand from shoulder height down toward the ground. The dog, quiet now, attending to her voice and actions, stood for a long moment, peering directly into her eyes then dropped to his haunches. She slowly climbed the three steps to the porch, and approached the dog. Carefully reaching out with a heavily gloved hand, she allowed the dog to sniff at it as she continued talking in a comforting tone.
 
She extended a hand farther, softly touching the muzzle of the frightened animal. Cautiously she brought her left hand forward and began to pet the dog.

As she stroked the dog’s head with one hand, she moved to its side, slid her other hand behind his front legs, and cautiously lifted him as she came to her feet. Holding the dog under her arm, she carried it to the state trooper.

“Put him in the back of my car,” she said, passing him the dog.

Ray and Sue climbed back onto the porch and peered into the window, cautiously at first, and then leaving the cover and moving to the center of the window where they could get the best view of the interior. After removing their winter gloves, they moved to the door, Ray at the right, Sue at the left, both with guns drawn. Ray turned the handle gingerly and pushed the door open with his foot. From an entrance hall, he carefully surveyed the living room and the adjoining kitchen. Sue followed him.

The room was in disarray—furniture scattered, some toppled—showing that there had been a struggle in a space that otherwise appeared neat and carefully ordered. Sue moved to the right and entered the adjoining kitchen.

“In here, Ray,” she called.

Ray carefully walked on the opposite side, peering into a bedroom and bath before he joined Sue in the kitchen. She was kneeling at the side of a body sprawled face down on a white tiled floor. There was a small pool of blood near the head. Sue was carefully checking for a pulse.

 
“She’s alive,” Sue said. “Let’s get the EMTs in here.”

Sue stayed close to the victim while Ray went out to escort the waiting EMTs in. Then they quickly checked the rest of the house as the EMTs, two young women in dark jumpsuits, quickly secured the victim to a backboard and with the help of the volunteer firefighters carried her to the waiting ambulance.

“How is she?” Sue asked one of the EMTs.

“Blunt force trauma to the head and face. We’ll know more when we get her to the trauma center.”

Ray stayed in the house while Sue retrieved her camera and evidence kit. While she was photographing the scene, Ray went out to talk to Brett Carty and Charles Lagonni. He sent Carty in to observe Sue and provide any assistance that she might need. Then he thanked Lagonni for his help and joined the other two in the house.

“How are you progressing?” Ray asked, standing off to the side.

“I’ve started the process. I’ll come back in daylight and complete the job. Her cell phone seems to be missing. I also want to check the exterior of the house. I’ll have Brett stay here and protect the scene until I get back and finish up.”

“Weapon?” asked Ray.

“Not yet.”

4.

Ray waited in the car as Sue gave the dog a brief walk down the road, away from the scene. Returning to the Jeep, Sue opened Ray’s door and plopped the dog in his lap. Then she marched around the front of the Jeep, climbed into the driver’s seat, and pulled on her seatbelt with one hand as she started the engine with the other.

“He’s a she,” she said, as she turned the jeep around and slowly started down the narrow road. “They get things done without a lot of ritual.”

 
“I sense there is a message there,” Ray observed.

“Not at all,” Sue responded. “Just a statement of the facts based on careful observation.”

“What am I supposed to do with him?” asked Ray, petting the dog.

“Her. Hold her. She needs to be comforted. She knows something is very wrong.”

Sue slowed as they approached the burned-out hulk of Ben’s Ford.

“My God, it looks like the front of the car was completely crushed before the fire.”

“It was,” said Ray.

“It was a good thing that you were here and could pull Ben from the car.” Sue looked over at Ray, “Where’s your car?”

“I was riding with Ben. He picked me up on the way,” Ray explained.

“You were with Ben? You were in that car?” Sue asked, concern in her voice.

“Yes, like I said.”

“How did I miss that? It never occurred to me. There were so many vehicles by the time I arrived I just assumed…. Are you okay? How did you get out of there?”

“I’ll probably be sore later today or tomorrow. We got banged around pretty good when the plow hit us. The airbags popped, and I could feel the pull of the seatbelt.”

“How many times did the plow ram you?”

“Just once. He was really on the pedal.” Ray explained to Sue how he kicked out the windshield and struggled to free Ben from the car. “He was out cold; must have hit his head, maybe in the initial crash.”

“Shouldn’t we take you to the hospital and have you checked over? You’re still in recovery mode. Getting tossed around like this isn’t what the doctor ordered.”

“I’m okay. I want to get back to the office and question that new person in dispatch, Maggie whatever her name is.”

“It’s Molly, not Maggie.”

“Molly. What do you know about her?” asked Ray as he fished for his cell phone.

“Not much,” said Sue, as she carefully maneuvered down the two-track. “She’s been in a few of my yoga classes. She’s quiet and very pleasant. Her family has had a summer place up here for generations. I think there was a farm in the family way back.”

“What’s her last name?” Ray asked, looking at the face of his phone.

“Birchard, that’s a maiden name. I think she’s been married though.”

“What did she do before she started working for us?” Ray asked.

Sue paused at the end of the two-track and waited for a pickup to pass before pulling onto the highway. “I’m not sure exactly. She’s an artist of some sort, maybe a potter. And I think she was doing art and working in one of those shops in North Bay. I talked to her after her interview. She told me she had to find something steady, something with health insurance. She’s single parenting, got a son, eight or nine. She said she couldn’t afford to be an artist anymore. Not in this economy.”

“Lots of people up here barely make it, even in the best of times.”

They rode in silence for several minutes. Then Ray held up his phone, “Do you have a battery charger for this onboard?”

“Not for that,” said Sue. “I’ve just got the standard issue, not one of those fancy ones.”

“Well the fancy phone is out of juice. Would you call dispatch and ask Molly to stick around after her shift? It sounds like she can give us some background on this victim.”

As Sue made the call, Ray looked out at the snowy landscape in the gray winter dawn. Taking care not to be observed, he put his right hand into his unzipped jacket and felt along the left side of his chest. He had become aware of a dull ache and was beginning to wonder if he had cracked a rib.
Probably just a bruise,
he thought, unable to pinpoint the source of the pain.

“The weapon, any ideas?” Ray asked, bringing his focus back to the case.

“I wasn’t able to get a clear view of her injuries,” said Sue. “But I would bet something round and heavy, maybe a piece of pipe or a club. There was a lot of anger there. Whoever did this was intent on killing her. ”

“Let’s hope she survives and can identify her assailant. I’d like to get him behind bars fast.”

• • •

 
A few hours later, Ray was just getting off the phone with the hospital when Sue, carrying the dog under her arm guided Molly into his office.
 
As Ray remembered, she was tall for a woman, at least his height, perhaps taller. Molly had the kind of body Ray’s mother would have called “long-waisted.” Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, a black velvet ribbon holding it in place.
 
Her bright crimson lipstick contrasted with her delicate complexion. A fleece jacket matching her lipstick covered a chambray button-down shirt. Jeans and worn hiking boots completed her ensemble.
 
The up north costume,
Ray thought. They settled around the end of the conference table.