Authors: K. C. Greenlief

Cold Hunter's Moon (32 page)

BOOK: Cold Hunter's Moon

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“The doctors think you'll be all right. You broke your right arm and leg.” John stopped when he saw her looking back and forth between her casts as if she'd just seen them for the first time.

Wolves?
Ann tapped out, looking at them.

“We didn't see any wolves,” John said, “but Duke and Buck led us to you. Buck stayed with you while Duke came back to the house with your scarf.” She dropped the pointer and settled back down in the bed, her face very pale.

“Are you all right?” John asked, concerned over her sudden change in demeanor. He stroked the hair off her forehead.

She picked up the pointer and taped out
Tir
.

“Tired?” John asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

John kissed her forehead. “I'll see you in the morning.”

They left the room a few minutes after she fell asleep. They ate a quick dinner and were back at the hotel by 10:30 P.M. When Lark got back to his room, he found a message from Big Oak telling him that the interviews were set up. Lark called Lacey's house and left a message about the interview times on her machine when she didn't answer. He told himself she had decided to go out with Joel and Molly after all.

He settled himself into bed and began reading the new Robert Parker he'd picked up at the mall. After reading the same page three times, he turned out the light in disgust. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to turn off his mind, which was busy imagining where Lacey was since she wasn't home to answer her phone.

SATURDAY MORNING

DECEMBER 2âRANSONS

The next morning came quickly for both John and Lark. They were delighted to see Ann sitting up in bed without her breathing tube. She was receiving oxygen from tubing under her nose and looked much better.

“The tube came out early this morning,” she said. Her voice was raspy but her grin was radiant. The gauze bandage was gone from her head and in its place was a small incision.

“She talks again. My worst nightmare come true,” John said, leaning over to kiss her.

Dr. Pine, the anesthesiologist, came in on rounds. “What's this I hear about you pulling your tube out last night?” He pulled his stethoscope out of his lab coat pocket and helped Ann sit up.

“I didn't pull it out, it fell out.”

“You sound pretty good, so I'll forgive you,” he said after listening to her chest and back. “If you keep your oxygen level up, we'll pull some of your IVs and let you leave the ICU.”

John followed him out of the room, a worried look on his face. The doctor assured him that Ann wasn't suffering any ill effects from the
tube coming out. When John got back in the room, Ann was ready for him.

“I swear,” she said, her hands held up in defense. “I didn't intentionally pull it out. I woke up in the middle of the night with alarms going off and a bunch of nurses around me. The tube was out.” She shrugged and stared down at the bed. “Sometimes it just happens that way.”

“I'm not mad,” he said, giving her a big hug. “I'm just glad you're OK.”

“Have you figured out what happened to me yet?” she asked Lark.

“We're hoping you can tell us.” He watched for any hint of recollection.

Her eyes bored into his. “I remember being in the woods and not being able to walk very well. I kept falling down. I didn't know where I was or how I got there. I burrowed down in the snow, trying to keep warm until someone found me. I remember yelling for help and feeling very cold. Then I remember thinking I was being attacked by a wolf. That must have been the dogs.” She shuddered and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. “I remember thinking that I was going to die and praying.” She reached out from under the covers to grab John's hand.

“Do you remember anything before the woods?” Lark asked, watching her eyes dart around the room.

“No.” She frowned. “I don't remember anything about the rest of the day.”

“Honey, you left me a note saying you were running errands and would pick something up for dinner,” John said. “Does that ring a bell?”

“No. Dr. Lane, the neurosurgeon, said something could trigger my memory now, or months from now, or it might never come back.” She signed and leaned back against her pillow.

“We're going to grab some breakfast and let you rest,” John said, kissing her forehead. “The auction notices are piling up and I want you home so we can do some big-time antiquing over the holidays.” They headed for the door.

Lark grinned back at her. “I hear you shop for special requests. I need to replace a piece of Roseville that got broken when Lonnie shot out my windows. Can you do that for me?”

Ann stared at him, her eyes big as saucers, a look of terror on her face.

“Ann, are you all right?” John asked, scurrying back to the bed.

Oblivious to them, Ann let out a wail and buried her head in her hands. She began rocking back and forth as if she were in excruciating pain. The alarms on her machines went off as she screamed, “No! No! Please don't â¦”

“Jesus Christ,” John yelled, trying to calm her down. “Ann, what's wrong?” She slid down in the bed and curled up in a ball, trying to cover her head. She continued to moan and cry out and began to hyperventilate.

“I'll get someone,” Lark shouted as he ran out to the nurse's station.

“Don't hit me,” Ann gasped. “Please don't hit me.”

“Who hit you?” John asked.

She leaned back against her pillow, gasping for air, her lips pale, her face white as the sheet she lay on. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Don't hit me, don't hit me,” she repeated over and over as Lark, Dr. Lane, and the nurse ran through the door.

“Everybody out,” the doctor ordered, waving his arms. “Now,” he yelled when John and Lark continued to stand by the bed.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Lane came out to talk with them. “She's calmed down. Sorry I yelled at you, but we needed to get her blood pressure down ASAP.”

“How is she?” John asked.

“Her blood pressure's back to normal and her oxygen level's under control. We didn't have to intubate her, but we did have to give her some medication to calm her down. She's having flashbacks of being beaten. This isn't unusual in these situations. I'm glad this happened while she's here so we can keep the complications to a minimum. The psychologist will see her as soon as she wakes up. We'll let you know when you can go back in and talk with her. You,” he said, nodding at Lark, “are going to have to wait until she's ready to talk.” His beeper went off and he headed down the hall. “Have the nurses page me if you have any more questions. I'm around all day.”

Lark went to the phone and called Joel, only to find that he had just left to pick up Lacey. He called Lacey and caught her still at home. He told her about Ann's flashback. They spent the next ten minutes planning their afternoon interviews with Sara Waltner and Cathy Lowery. They all headed for Big Oak when they hung up. Lark got to the station
at twelve-thirty, right behind Joel and Lacey. Joel had great news. They had finally hit pay dirt in Wausau. They settled into the interview room to discuss the new evidence.

Joel was so excited he could hardly contain himself “One of the clerks at the service station across the road from Lippert's recognized a picture of Sara Waltner. He confirmed that she purchased gas late on Saturday the eighteenth.”

“Sara was supposed to be in Minneapolis shopping that weekend. She was checked into the Sofitel that night. Is he sure about the date?” Lark asked.

“The kid goes to college and works weekend-evening shifts. The night guy called in sick and he worked a double.” Joel checked his notes. “Sara tried to pay for gas with a credit card at the pump, but it wasn't working so she came in and paid cash. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She wasn't very friendly. She bought a Diet Coke and was mad because they didn't have caffeine-free.”

“You sure he can put her there on that date?” Lark repeated.

“Sounds that way. The night is very vivid to himâa double shift, quiet night, beautiful woman, a new gray Taurus,” Joel said, grinning at Lark.

“You're shitting me.”

“He told us she was driving a new gray Taurus and wearing a black coat with a fur-lined hood. Sound familiar?”

“Will he give us a written statement?” Lark asked, unable to believe their luck.

“It'll be faxed over as soon as it's signed. We've got another team checking out this kid to make sure he's on the level. The store has a videotape security system. We're checking to see if there's any tape on her.”

“Does Waltner Marina rent snowmobiles?” Lacey asked, pacing around the room.

“How the hell should I know?” Lark asked, not following this change of thought.

“Damn, I'll bet they do,” Joel said.

“What's that got to do with this?” Lark asked.

“The Taurus was left at Grezetski's Market, across the road from Waltner Marina. The Taurus from a few years ago was left at the Big Oak Diner, down the block from the Marina.”

“Everything's just down the block from everything else in this town,” Lark grumbled, his mind racing.

“If you'd stolen a car and didn't want it near your house but needed to get home in the snow, what better way to do it than to borrow one of your own snowmobiles. Also use the rental snowmobile to take the body out to the marsh, so if anyone found out, it couldn't be pinned on you. After all, anyone who used that snowmobile could have done it,” Lacey said, sitting down.

“Brilliant, and very hard to prove if that's how it went down,” Joel said.

“I'll find out if the marina rents snowmobiles.” Lark said, heading for the door.

“They either rent them or sell them,” Lacey commented, “because they have a bunch of them in their parking lot.”

Lark went out and asked Flo to call Waltner's to see if they rented snowmobiles, noting that Sara would be in for her interview in ten minutes.

“'Course they do,” she said. “I don't need to call unless you want to know the price.”

“No shit,” Lark said. “Get the DA on the phone. Tell him to get over here right now. Sara's coming in at one-thirty.”

“We've got enough circumstantial evidence to read Sara her rights,” Lark said as he walked back in the door. “Flo's calling Tom Jenkins, our DA. I want to make sure we do this right.”

“Did you find her husband yet?” Lacey asked.

“Not that I know of,” he replied, heading back out to ask if they'd tracked Steve down. Flo told him that Steve and his assistant weren't back from their meeting in Atlanta. Deep in thought, Lark headed back to the interview room. His reverie was interrupted when he heard someone call his name.

He looked up to find Sara standing in the doorway with Tom Jenkins. Lark asked her to take a seat, telling her they'd be with her in a few minutes, and motioned Tom into the interview room. They outlined the case for him. He reluctantly agreed that they needed to read Sara her rights and offered to call her attorney since the evidence was so circumstantial.

Sara came into the interview room, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a red cashmere twin set, a short black skirt, and black boots. She carried
her black coat with the fur-lined hood slung over her arm. She greeted Lacey warmly and flirted shamelessly with Joel, then asked Lark how Ann was, her face full of concern. Watching her, Lacey felt a twinge that they might have the wrong person. She had to remind herself of the photo identification they had from the convenience store in Wausau.

Lark sat down across from Sara and everyone got quiet. She surveyed their faces. “What's wrong?”

“Do you know why you're here?” Lark asked.

“I was told it was to answer some more questions about Gemma and Terry.” She looked back and forth between them.

“Would you like anything to drink before we get started?” Lacey asked, breaking some of the tension.

“Diet caffeine-free Coke would be great,” she said, settling her eyes on Lark.

“We need to ask you some more questions about Terry and Gemma's murders, but this time we need to read you your rights and let you know that anything you say can be used against you in a court of lawâ”

“What the hell,” she yelled, standing up so fast she knocked her chair over. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“I'm reading you your rights,” Lark said.

“I want my attorney,” she snarled, stalking towards the door, her eyes blazing. “Where the hell is Tom Jenkins?”

Jenkins met her at the door. He cajoled her back into the interview room by explaining that she could be arrested if she tried to leave. He told her he'd already called Brad Clapton, her attorney in Park Falls. She reluctantly agreed to stay. Jenkins told her that he'd called the hardware store to round up Steve and had been told that his plane was due in the next hour. He guided her over to the table, giving her the Diet Coke Lacey had handed him on his way in.

She looked contemptuously at the can and threw it across the room into the trash can. “Goddammit, I said caffeine-free,” she yelled.

They left her stewing in the interview room until her lawyer appeared an hour later. Jenkins and Clapton listened as Lark laid out the evidence against Sara.

“This is all circumstantial,” Clapton said.

“It may be circumstantial, but it all fits,” Jenkins replied.

“I'm going to advise her not to talk to you. If you arrest her, we'll
have her bailed out this afternoon. I've got Judge Holten standing by. Old man Williams has given him so much trouble that I'm sure he isn't going to want to hold Sara on circumstantial evidence. He'd be voted out of office for sure.”

“Don't forget about Ann Ranson,” Lark said.

“I heard she had brain surgery yesterday. She's not in any shape to give a statement.”

“She's awake and starting to get her memory back.”

“You're going to use a witness who's lost her memory and had brain surgery?” Clapton asked.

“We'll have a statement naming your client as the person who assaulted her and left her for dead in the same place as the other two victims.”

BOOK: Cold Hunter's Moon

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