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Authors: K. C. Greenlief

Cold Hunter's Moon (33 page)

BOOK: Cold Hunter's Moon
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“When you get it, let me know,” Clapton said, standing up. “Let's get this show on the road so we can get over to Park Falls and Judge Holten before dark.”
Clapton met briefly with Sara and then they all sat down in the interview room. They questioned her for an hour, but she stuck to her story that she was out of town at the time of both shootings and was home alone when Ann was beaten and dumped in the marsh. When she was asked about being identified by the kid at the convenience store, she denied that it could have happened, since she was in Minneapolis. When she was asked about her daughter's affairs with Katey, Gemma, and Terry, she became belligerent, denying that her daughter was a lesbian. Clapton calmed her down.
After the interview, they conferred with Jenkins on whether to turn her loose or arrest her. Joel left the room to call and check on how they were doing in Wausau, and Lark called Marshfield to find out if they could get a statement from Ann. John told him that Ann was sedated and back on the ventilator. She had been having quite a bit of trouble with flashbacks and elevated blood pressure.
Joel faired a little bit better. They had gotten a signed statement from the convenience-store clerk who had checked out as a good kid without so much as a speeding ticket. The store had surveillance tape, but they had not yet found Sara on it.
After hearing their information, Jenkins decided not to arrest Sara until they had positive identification on the surveillance tape or a statement from Ann. When Lark and Joel protested, he informed them that
the county could not afford the lawsuit they would get if they were wrong and that one more day wouldn't hurt anything.
A disheveled Steve Waltner came flying through the door as they headed back to the interview room. After reassurance from Clapton, he went to see Sara. She glanced at him but did not acknowledge his presence. Jenkins informed Sara that she would not be arrested but was expected back at the station at three o'clock the next day for more questioning. Clapton agreed that she would be back and he and the Waltners left.
The police spent another half hour with Jenkins, planning their next steps. It was decided that Lark would drive back to Marshfield to be available to take Ann's statement. Joel and Lacey would go to Wausau to complete the review of the surveillance tapes. They had a quick dinner at the Big Oak Diner and got on the road in the middle of yet another snowstorm.
DECEMBER 3—THE RANSONS
Sunday morning dawned as usual in Marshfield, gray and cloudy with a new layer of snow. Lark and John met in the restaurant at the Super 8. While they ate, Lark updated John on the case.
“Why would Sara do such a thing?” John asked, shocked at what Lark told him. “She must have really hated those kids to do that to them and leave Ann out in the snow to die.” He stopped when he heard his voice quavering, and sipped his coffee.
“Jenkins doesn't want to arrest her until we have better evidence. Joel and Lacey are in Wausau trying to identify Sara on the surveillance tapes, but the strongest evidence will be what Ann can tell us.”
“I don't want her to talk about this if it will harm her in any way.”
“I don't either,” Lark reassured him, “but if she's ready to talk, I'd like to take her statement.”
Breakfast finished, they went to the hospital. They were surprised to find Ann sitting up in bed with her breathing tube out.
“Did you pull it out again?” John asked, kissing her forehead.
“They took it out about five.” She nudged the oxygen prongs back
up to her nose. She still had two IVs and the heart and blood pressure monitors on.
“You look like you're feeling better,” Lark said, not knowing what else to say.
Her brown eyes bored into him. “I remember.”
“Ann, you don't have to talk about this right now,” John said, taking her hand.
“I've got to get it out. I want this past me so I can put all my energy into getting well.” Lark pulled a tape recorder and notebook out of his coat pocket and they began.
“I felt so much better on Thursday, I decided I had to get out of the house,” she said, playing nervously with the end of her top sheet. “Melissa Marten called and said she'd finished a box for me and wanted to know what time she could bring it over. I told her I'd come and get it. I still had Steve Waltner's Flow Blue and I decided I'd drop it off, pick up Melissa's box, and then get us a pizza. I left you a note,” she said to John.
When he nodded she went on. “I got to the Waltner's at five. Sara seemed surprised to see me and I apologized for not calling. We went into her kitchen and she got us Diet Cokes. I noticed that a glove on her counter matched the gray cashmere-and-fur glove the dogs tore up. I asked her if she'd lost the mate and she looked at me kind of nervously. She said she couldn't find it and I told her I thought our dogs had destroyed it.” Ann reached for the foam cup on her bedside table and found that it was empty. She held it out to John. “Could you fill this up with ice?”
“Can't we ring the bell and have them do it? I don't want to leave you.”
“This will be much faster. You have no idea how dry my mouth is after having that tube in.” John left to get the ice.
“I hate having him in here when I'm telling this. It will upset him. Anyway, back to Thursday. Sara was chopping some vegetables at the island. I was sitting at the bar. She told me that she didn't think she'd left the glove at our house.” She glanced over at Lark and shook her head. “Oh, how I wish I'd left right then. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I asked her how Sandi was dealing with the murders. She said Sandi was fine, but she was thinking about hiring a bodyguard for her. We talked about violence a few more minutes and then I asked her if she knew Katey Lowery was gay. She whirled around from the island with that big
knife in her hand and asked me why I'd say a thing like that. Funny, she didn't scare me,” Ann said, looking up as John walked in with her ice and a spoon.
She spooned some of the crushed ice into her mouth and went on. “I told her that a good friend of mine had seen Katey at lesbian-group meetings on campus and I was beginning to think that these might be gay hate crimes. She seemed angry and I asked her what was bothering her. She walked over to her pantry. It was off to my right and a little behind me. She said she didn't understand why I was saying these things to her. I turned around to see what she was doing just as she walloped me with the baseball bat. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor.” Ann spooned more ice into her mouth.
“I had a few seconds before the pain took over. I remember looking up at her and asking why she was doing this to me just before she hit me again. She called me a meddling bitch and told me that no one was going to hurt her daughter. She hit me twice in the leg and once in the arm. I remember curling up in a ball. I must have passed out. The next thing I remember was her dragging me out to the garage. I must have moaned or something because she got down in my face and yelled that Sandi had been raped by those dykes. I remember her shaking me and thinking that I was going to die from the pain. I don't remember anything else until I woke up out in the snow. I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there or what had happened. I remember trying to walk and falling down because of the pain in my leg.” She didn't seem to notice the tears streaming down her face.
“I gave up on trying to walk out and burrowed down in the snow, like animals do to keep warm.” She bit her lip and reached for a tissue to wipe the tears away. “I prayed to God that I'd be rescued and I tried hard not to fall asleep. I yelled for help and sang, anything to let someone know I was out there. Then I didn't feel cold anymore, just warm and drowsy and I finally just let go. The last thing I remember was the dogs. I thought they were wolves.”
She looked over at Lark, her eyes swimming in tears. “What will they do to Sara?”
“Life in prison's too good for her,” he said, turning off the tape. “We'll transcribe this and have someone run it back down for you to sign.”
He and John went out in the hall and conferred. It was decided that the guard would stay until Sara was in permanent custody.
Lark's pager went off just as he headed out of town. He tried his cellular phone and realized he still hadn't charged it. Swearing, he called Flo on the radio.
“Don't you answer your phone anymore?”
“It's not charged,” he snapped, letting her know he wasn't in the mood for any attitude.
“Call Joel at the office in Wausau. He called twenty minutes ago and said it was urgent.”
“Guess you'll have to patch me through since I can't call.” She snorted her disdain as she made the transfer.
“Where have you been?” Joel asked. “I've been trying to get you for half an hour.”
Lark informed him he had gotten what he needed in Marshfield.
Joel whooped into the radio, unable to contain himself, and told Lark that they had gotten the same. They signed off, agreeing to meet in Big Oak. Lark got into town at noon and Joel pulled in fifteen minutes later.
“Where's Lacey?” Lark asked, surprised that Joel was alone.
“This case is almost wrapped up and we needed her in Door County. We got our statement plus a damn fine picture of Sara on tape,” he said, watching Lark's face.
“I didn't get a chance to thank her for all her hard work.”
“Call her. Even better, drive over and take her out to dinner.”
“Right,” Lark replied. “Let's call Tom.”
Tom Jenkins was there within fifteen minutes. He agreed that they had more than enough to arrest Sara and called Brad Clapton. After hearing what they had, Clapton agreed to pick Sara up rather than have them go out to the house and arrest her. Joel and Lark slipped over to the Big Oak Diner for lunch, knowing it would be way into the night before they got their next meal.
At two o'clock, Lark's beeper went off. He used Joel's cellular to call the station.
“You'd better get over here right now,” Flo said.
“What the hell's going on?”
“Not on the phone,” she said, and hung up.
“Damn that woman.” Lark and Joel wrapped their cheeseburgers in paper napkins so they could eat them on the way.
Jenkins met them at the door, his face ashen. “This is awful, she took an overdose.”
“Who overdosed?” Lark asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Sara Waltner,” Jenkins said, guiding them into the interview room.
Lark tossed his half-eaten burger in the trash. “What happened?”
“Brad called me right before I called you.” Jenkins slumped into the chair. “He went out to the house and found Sara and Steve nearly dead. She overdosed them on something. We'll know after they do the blood work. They just got to them in time. They were barely breathing when the ambulance got there.”
“How the hell did this happen?” Lark asked.
“Clapton stayed at the Waltners' until midnight, trying to impress upon Sara how important it was that he knew the truth so he could help her make the best decisions. He said he made it clear that if Ann could identify her, she was in big trouble.”
“Did she confess?” Joel asked.
“He says no. He spent most of the time refereeing a fight between them over Steve's affair with his assistant.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lark said, disgusted.
“Clapton left when Sara went upstairs to bed,” Tom continued. “When he went out there this afternoon, no one answered the door. He went around back and saw Steve lying on the floor, so he broke in. He called the ambulance for Steve and found Sara upstairs in bed, nearly dead. He called me as soon as he found her.”
A week later, Ann was home, learning how to walk with crutches. No small feat since she also had an arm cast.
Steve and Sara Waltner lived. Sara had given them both a large dose of Seconal, a sleeping pill for which she had a prescription. She was not at all happy to be alive and had been transferred to Rhinelander for a psychiatric evaluation. Her physician finally gave Joel and Lark permission to interview her two weeks after her overdose. Lark was delighted to find out that Mrs. Krejewski, forever Mrs. Claus in his mind, was Sara's nurse.
“Who would have thought the beautiful Sara Lippert would come to this?” she said, her face full of sadness as she led Lark and Joel to Sara's room. “She's still very fragile, so I'm going to stay in here with you. If she has any problems, I'm going to ask you to leave. You agree?” she asked, looking at them as if she were setting ground rules for a couple of teenagers.
“We agree,” Lark said. They followed her into the room.
It was difficult for Lark to hide his shock at his first sight of Sara. He
knew they were about the same age, but she now looked like she was in her late fifties. Her eyes were focused but dull. Her face was devoid of makeup and her forehead and cheeks were lined with wrinkles. Someone had made a crude attempt at styling her hair by brushing it back from her face. Her once beautifully manicured nails were free of polish and chipped and bitten to the quick. She didn't seem to be aware that her hospital gown had slipped down over one shoulder.
“Sara, I'm going to fix your gown,” Mrs. Krejewski said as she reached her hand out towards Sara's shoulder.
“Get away from me, you fat bitch,” Sara yelled, swatting at Mrs. Krejewski's hand.
“Sara, we discussed this. Another outburst like that and the police will have to leave.”
“Fine, just keep away from me,” Sara snapped, yanking her gown back up on her shoulder.
Lark was so stunned by the change in Sara that he didn't notice Brad Clapton in the room until he spoke. “Sheriff, now that you've got your tape recorder set up, I want to go on record that I object to this interview. Steve and I have advised Sara against this, but she has chosen to ignore me.”
“Didn't they determine that I was competent at that hearing we went through?” Sara asked, glaring at Clapton.
“Yes, Sara, you were judged to be competent but that doesn't mean that you should incriminate yourself.”
“I want this over with. I want my children to get on with their lives and Steve to rot in hell with his harlot.” Her voice was eerily calm.
Lark read Sara her rights and asked her if she understood them. When she stated that she did, he began questioning her.
“Sara did you kill Gemma Patterson and Terry Foltz?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you kill them?”
“They raped Sandi. She would never have had sex with them if they hadn't forced her. She knows that sex between two women is an abomination,” Sara snapped, her hands twisting into fists on top of the sheets. Lark noticed the wrist restraints that dangled from either side of the bed. He wondered if they would get through the interview without restraining Sara again.
“How did you know Sandi had sex with Terry and Gemma?” Lark asked, trying to make eye contact with her.
“I found Sandi's diary when I was cleaning her room. She forgot to take it back to Madison with her. She wrote about having sex with Gemma. I knew from her diary that she had been raped. She would never have written about it the way she did if Gemma hadn't forced her.”
“I don't understand,” Lark said.
“Sandi was traumatized by the rape. She wrote that she wanted to have more sex with that little bitch. I knew I had to do something to save my baby.” Sara's eyes were full of hatred. “I called Gemma and asked her to help me plan a party for Sandi's birthday in December. She agreed to stop by on her way home for Thanksgiving. I asked her not to tell anyone about it so we could keep the party a surprise.” Sara stopped to take a drink from a glass of water on her bedside stand. She gripped the glass so hard, Lark was afraid she might break it.
“When she got to the house, I invited her into the kitchen and gave her something to drink. She asked if she could use the phone to call her mother and tell her where she was, because she hadn't been able to get her earlier. I keep Michael's old baseball bat in the pantry for protection. It was so easy. I got the bat and hit her a couple of times. She was unconscious when I loaded her in our two-man snowmobile and took her out to the marsh.”
“How did you get her in the snowmobile?” Lark asked.
“You men are all alike,” she said malevolently. “You see a pretty woman and you think she's weak. I dragged her out to the garage and lifted her into the snowmobile. I carry forty-pound bags of water-softener salt down to the basement. I can drag a body a few feet.”
“What did you do with her car?”
“I drove it to Eau Claire and used Gemma's credit card to fill it up with gas. Then I left it at a shopping center across from Lippert's. I took a Taurus off the lot and drove it back to Big Oak. I left it in the parking lot at the diner. I got a snowmobile at the marina and rode it home. Steve and the kids use the store snowmobiles all the time. I put it in the back of the garage until Steve found it later in the winter. Then I drove back over to the Sofitel.” She looked at them defiantly, daring them to challenge her.
“What did you do with Gemma's purse?”
“I tossed it in a trash Dumpster in back of a restaurant in Ladysmith on the way home.”
“Why did you kill Terry?” Lark asked.
“Things were so much better after Gemma went away.” She stared at the wall as if she were daydreaming. A smile flickered across her face and Lark caught a glimpse of the woman he had known before this tragedy. “Sandi started dating David and they were in love. I knew everything was going to be all right. To make sure, I read her diary whenever she came home. Things were good until she let that dyke Terry get too close to her. Terry raped her just like Gemma and brainwashed her into thinking she might be gay. They were doing sinful things. I did the same thing to her I did to Gemma. Exactly the same,” she said. Her eyes blazed into Lark's.
“Why did you try to kill Ann?”
“The bitch wouldn't leave things alone. When she asked me if Katey was gay, I knew she had figured it out. It would have ruined my baby's life if Ann told anyone. I just snapped.”
“What did you do with her car?” Lark asked, since they still hadn't found it.
“It's under a tarp in one of Steve's boat storage buildings out on Highway T, the furthest one in the back. I didn't have time to dispose of it. You wouldn't have found it until spring. No one goes out there until people start taking their boats out of storage.”
“Why didn't you kill Katey since Sandi and Katey slept together?” Lark asked, bracing himself for the worst as he watched Sara become enraged.
“Katey's a victim. Those bitches raped her, too,” she yelled, flinging herself up in bed towards Lark.
“That's enough,” Mrs. Krejewski said as she pushed the screaming and crying Sara down on the bed. Lark didn't think he'd ever get the sound of Sara's crying out of his head.
“The world gets stranger everyday,” Lark said as they walked out of the hospital into the first sunshine they'd seen in over a month. “This is a vicious hate crime where the murderer claims she killed two innocent girls out of love for her daughter.”
“She's sure going to have problems in prison,” Joel said as they headed for their car.
“If she makes it there. She may be legally competent, but she's the sickest woman I've ever met. I doubt she'll ever get to the pen,” Lark said as they drove away.
BOOK: Cold Hunter's Moon
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