Death at the Door

by K. C. Greenlief

“I apologize. That remark about your wife was way out of line.”

  “Apology accepted. Let’s change the subject and talk about these robberies. Got any ideas?”

  “Whoever is responsible for this seems to know their stuff. It’s got to be someone who knows a lot about a wide range of antiques and how to get rid of them.”

  “Like a dealer,” Lark said. “Someone who would know how to discreetly move high-end collectibles without drawing attention to them.”

  Lacey nodded. “Where are they keeping all this stuff and why hasn’t someone noticed them going in and out of these properties?”

  “They’re either the slickest or the luckiest bastards I’ve ever seen. Both these properties are very secluded. What about the other places?”

  “They’re all secluded behind landscaping or on larger plots of land not close to anyone else,” Lacey replied.

  “Have you been able to narrow down a time frame for the robberies?”

  “We’ve been so busy getting the preliminary investigations done that we haven’t been able to put too much together yet. We know the houses have been vacant from one to five months. We’re checking on the services the homeowners might use to see if there are any connections. We know they use several different insurance companies and agents, so there’s no crossover there. There are three agencies in Door County who do cleaning and opening and closing of vacation properties. They have keys to the properties they manage, so their employees are a possibility. Most of the homeowners used agencies for this. The problem is that all three cleaning services were used. I spent the morning with the agencies cross-referencing their current and old employee lists. There are several people who have worked for two of the agencies, and two people who have worked for all three. I’m trying to find time to finish the list and set up interviews with the two people who could have had access to all the homes.”

  “Is the MO the same for each robbery?”

  “So far there’s no sign of a break-in at any of the houses, which is very disturbing. Someone is getting in and out and you’d never know they’d been there if the owners didn’t find things missing.”

  “A professional thief must have found Door County. It’s just a hop from here to Chicago and Milwaukee. Have you asked them for help?”

  “Joel has but we haven’t gotten anything back yet. If it’s a pro, it has to be someone who has spent a lot of time up here. You’ve got to know a lot about this area as well as when these people come and go to get into this many houses and not leave a trace or get caught.”

  Their waitress brought their food: steaming plates of baby red potatoes and broiled whitefish accompanied by a dish of coleslaw and a plate of homemade rolls.

  Lacey took a bite of the whitefish and swooned with delight. “This is delicious, the best whitefish I’ve ever had.”

  “Never knew lawyers could taste so good,” Lark said around a mouthful of fish and potatoes.

  They suspended their conversation about the case and discussed Door County and their meal. They both grinned from ear to ear when waitress brought them warm cherry pie topped with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

  They walked out of the restaurant into a cool but sunny evening. The air was redolent with the smell of lilac from the tall, voluptuous bushes that edged the parking lot. Birds were beginning to roost in the trees and bushes and frogs could be heard singing in the distance.

  “God, it’s gorgeous here this time of year, isn’t it?” Lark said as they headed for the car.

  “Yep, it’s paradise until the bugs come. Then you probably need to wear a beekeeper’s suit to go outside.” Lacey got in the Jeep.

  “What’s eating you?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m just very irritable. Ignore it and I’ll try and straighten up.” She headed south on Main Road and pulled up to the stop sign at Detroit Harbor Road, where the Albatross parking lot continued to overflow with cars and people and their kids.

  “Want an ice cream cone?”

  “A what?” Lacey asked, looking at him as if he’d slipped a cog. “Did you say ice cream cone after all the food we just put away?”

  “I was trying to think of something to cheer you up. Chocolate ice cream has worked for other women I have known.” Lark glanced over at her incredulous face. “Apparently not this time.”

  Lacey turned west toward their motel and burst out laughing. “Thank you for the offer but I’m stuffed. Let’s go watch the sunset and get some rest so we can make the seven A.M. ferry.”

  Lark nodded, not wanting to rock the boat. They pulled into their motel and walked out to the beach. The sun was glistening like yellow diamonds on the gentle waves of Lake Michigan. The cloudless powder-blue sky was ablaze with orange, pink, and purple streaks.

  Lacey walked down to the wooden lounges at the edge of the beach. She slipped off her shoes and dropped them on the chair and headed toward the water. Lark followed, keeping his shoes on. They walked north up the beach. They passed a cedar and fieldstone summer cottage nestled into the woods just back from the beach. Its windows were dark. Although it looked well kept, it didn’t look like anyone was living there.

  “I think if I had one of these places, I’d want to be here all the time. It’s so peaceful.” Lacey shaded her eyes and turned west to watch the sun creep toward the water.

  “I live in ‘peaceful’ and it’s wonderful most of the time. But every once in a while you want to go where there’s a little action.”

  “How can someone rob so many high-end cottages in a place where everyone knows everyone and go unnoticed?”

  “Maybe it’s a tourist,” Lark said.

  “A tourist here for an extended stay going unnoticed?” Lacey shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good point.” Lark stopped to watch a deer emerge from the woods. He held out his arm to stop Lacey and pointed toward the doe. Two tiny spotted fawns stepped out of the woods and followed her to the water’s edge.

  “My God, those are the smallest fawns I’ve ever seen,” Lacey whispered. The doe raised up in alarm and stared at Lark and Lacey. She stamped her hoof and bleated at her two small charges. When they didn’t move, she nosed them back toward the woods.

  “Let’s head back and leave mom and the babies in peace.” Lark put his arm through Lacey’s as he turned around.

  They sauntered back down the beach arm in arm. Lark went up to his motel room and got them each a beer. They sat on the lounges and watched the sunset. Once the sun was down, they went to their motel rooms.

  Lark turned on his television but found nothing of interest. He turned it off and began reading the new Steve Hamilton paperback he’d purchased at the mercantile. He was immediately immersed in Hamilton’s descriptions of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, an area so like northern Wisconsin.

  Tuesday Late Night

  May 29—Horizon Resort,

  Washington Island, Wisconsin

  Lark awakened suddenly and swatted the book away from his face. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was. He groaned when he realized he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. He rolled out of bed and noticed that the alarm clock registered 12:15 A.M. He stretched and walked to the window and peered up at the full moon hanging over the lake. He was wide-awake and decided to take a walk along the water to see if it would relax him back to sleep.

  He pulled on his shoes and jacket and headed out the door. The night was still and felt about fifty-five degrees. Lark was drawn down to the water by the sound of the waves. He walked through the beach grass down to the sand and stood drinking in the nighttime sites and sounds of the beach.

  “I see I’m not the only person who can’t sleep,” said a female voice from the dark.

  Lark whipped around looking for the speaker and saw nothing.

  “Where the hell are you, Lacey?” He continued to scan the beach and the motel area. He saw movement by the lounge chairs and watched a shape emerge from a dark-colored blanket. “What the hell are you doing out here th
is time of night?”

  “I can’t sleep. I fell asleep reading about eight-thirty and now I’m wide-awake.”

  “Same here. I’ll bet you woke me up when you came outside. How long have you been out here?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  “That’d be about right.” Lark sat down on the foot of her lounge.

  Lacey pulled her feet up and tucked the blanket back in around them. “My parents’ farmhouse in New York has a screened sleeping porch off the master bedroom. My dad added it on over top of the first-floor sunporch when I was little. I loved sleeping out there with them. I look back now at how romantic that porch was and I’m sure I interrupted their plans on many an evening. I’ve never slept as well as I did out on that porch with my parents.”

  “Are you trying to tell me we’re sleeping out tonight?” Lark asked.

  “You can do whatever you want. I’m sleeping out here.”

  “Well, you’re not sleeping out here alone. I’ll go get some blankets and pillows.” Lark got up and headed for the motel.

  “Dammit, Lark. I’m a thirty-six-year-old policewoman. I can assure you I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  Lacey’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks. “Women. You can’t leave anything alone, can you? I made one remark about your age six months ago and you’ve never forgotten it. Get over it and move on.”

  “Move on. You’re telling me to get over it and move on? That’s a good one. I came out here for peace and quiet. I don’t want to fight with you tonight.” Her voice became muffled as she turned away from him. “I never should have let you know I was here. You walked right by me and didn’t see me. Go back up to the motel and leave me alone.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lark’s voice faded into the distance. A few minutes later he was back with his bedding. He dragged a wooden lounge chair over beside Lacey’s, put the armrests down, butted it up against her armless chair, and adjusted the back to the same level as hers.

  Lacey watched him get situated and rolled over on her side away from him.

  “Damn, this thing is hard as a rock,” he said, trying to get comfortable on the wooden slats.

  “You can always go back to your room and sleep on your nice soft mattress.” Lacey’s voice floated up from under the covers.

  Lark ignored her and settled in to watch the multitude of stars. “Isn’t it strange how much brighter the stars are when you’re away from civilization? It’s almost like heaven is dimmed in the presence of large masses of people.”

  Lacey sighed. “I’m going to say this as politely as I can. Please shut up so I can get back to sleep. I’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lark turned over on his side away from her.

  They lay back to back in silence for what seemed like hours, really only a matter of minutes. The only sounds were the singing of frogs, the waves on the lake, and the snapping of the underbrush as small animals rustled their way through the woods surrounding the motel.

  “What the hell is that?” Lark whispered.

  “What now?” Lacey rolled over toward him.

  “Shh.” Lark pointed to a light bobbing on the lake. They heard the faint putting sound of a boat motor.

  “Probably just someone coming into their dock,” Lacey whispered over his shoulder. They watched the boat glide across the still bay and stop about a quarter mile down the beach from them. The boat light went off and a minuscule light bounced from the boat to the woods. The light faded away, but no lights from a cottage went on.

  “Strange,” Lark said, turning over on his back. “That boat pulled in about where that empty cottage is.”

  “Probably just someone coming home late.”

  “Don’t you turn on some lights when you go in your house?”

  “Yes, but maybe the lights are on the other side of the house where we can’t see them.”

  “Maybe.” Lark pulled his blanket up around him. “Are you cold? Do we need to get a little bit closer to keep warm?”

  Lacey could hear amusement in his voice. “I’m fine.” She turned away from him and thought about the nights they’d spent together in Big Oak last winter, trying to stay warm when someone had shot the windows out of Lark’s house. “Why did you tell Joel you were coming after me on New Year’s Eve and never show up?”

  Lark looked up at the stars. “I told you, the Price County sheriff radioed me that he had a green Grand Cherokee involved in a fatal accident on Highway 13. By the time I got done helping them clean things up, it was too late to catch up with you.”

  Lacey rolled up on her right side to look at his face. “Why didn’t you call me? All these months without a single contact.”

  “Why does it matter now?” His voice was cold and Lacey could see his eyes snapping in the moonlight. “You’ve got Dr. Gene, the dancing machine.”

  “It matters.” Lacey maintained eye contact with him.

  “I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone right now.” Lark crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

  “Bullshit, that’s pure bullshit.” Lacey sat up and readjusted her blanket around her. “You were all over Sophie last night.” She threw her arms out in frustration. “I give up.”

  “I was not all over Sophie last night, we’ve known each other for years, and what exactly are you giving up?” Lark’s voice was like steel.

  “Nothing, forget it, just forget it.” Lacey lay down and rolled away from him, yanking her blanket up to her shoulder. “Why don’t you go sleep in your room.”

  “I’m not leaving you out here alone.” Lark rolled on his side away from her. “What the hell. Get a look at this.”

  “What now?” Lacey rolled over toward him and watched the faint light flicker between the trees on its way toward the lake. The boat engine sputtered and the boat light went on as the flashlight went off. They listened to the boat leave the dock and head out into Lake Michigan going west toward the Door County peninsula.

  “Tell me that isn’t strange.” Lark glanced over at her.

  “Think we should call the sheriff’s office?”

  “No, but let’s remember this in case we hear of something happening in the area. The person was using a flashlight and the light on his boat, so he wasn’t trying to hide himself. The coming and going without any house lights this time of night is what seemed so strange.”

  “People do strange things,” Lacey said. “Look at us sleeping out here on the beach when we have perfectly good motel rooms we could be sleeping in.”

  “You’re the one who wants to sleep out here.”

  They rolled over on their sides and quickly went to sleep.

  Wednesday Morning

  May 30—Horizon Resort,

  Washington Island, Wisconsin

  Lacey awakened as dappled sunlight filtered through the trees behind her. She heard the waves coming into shore and listened to the birds singing and calling in the trees. When she tried to get up, two arms pulled her back against a toasty warm body. Memories of last night came back to her and she realized she was lying in the arms of Lark Swenson. She fished her arm out from under her blanket and checked her watch. She swore when she saw that it was 7:15 A.M.

  “Dammit, Lark, get up. It’s a quarter after seven. We’ve already missed the first ferry.” She tried to free herself from his arms.

  “I think I’ll have John Ranson add a sleeping porch on my house. This is pretty nice.”

  “Come on, we’ve got to get moving so we can make the eight A.M. ferry. You have a tee time and I have to get to work.”

  “John can take care of himself. I called him last night. He knows we were stuck over here. He and Ann are going to do some shopping this morning so I’m in no rush.”

  “Well, I am. Let me up so I can go take a shower.”

  “Suit yourself,” Lark said as he let her go. “But I’m not leaving this island without breakfast, so don’t rush.”

  Lacey got up off the lounge and gr
abbed her bedding. “You’ll leave this island when I’m ready or take the ferry as a passenger. I’m the one with the car keys this time.”

  Lark sat up and watched her slog through the sand up to the motel. Her long red hair had pulled itself into tight curls with all the humidity. He decided not to think about how gorgeous she was even after she’d slept on the beach all night.

  He was fascinated that she seemed to have a strong relationship with Gene Boskirk but was still jealous of Sophie. He’d told her part of the truth last night and thanked the heavens that she hadn’t forced the rest out of him. He had been honest about not wanting to get into a relationship right now. But that didn’t make him immune to Lacey’s charms, or Sophie’s for that matter.

  As he got up, he glanced down the beach and remembered the boater’s stealthy trip to and from the shore the previous night. As he gathered up his linens, he studied the shore where he thought the boat had come in. A gray wooden dock extended out into the lake in the right location. He glimpsed sections of a cedar cabin through the trees. It was the cottage they’d walked past the night before.

  His concentration was interrupted when a dog ran up and dropped a piece of driftwood at his feet. When he did nothing, the dog, a yellow Labrador retriever, jumped up on its hind legs and barked.

  “Throw the stick towards the water and he’ll leave you in peace,” said an elderly woman behind him.

  He picked up the stick and tossed it toward the surf. The dog took off after it, barking his satisfaction. The woman thanked him and followed the dog to the water’s edge. Ghostlike wisps of fog floated over the water until a gust of wind came along. Then they raced each other over the gentle waves in a quest to beat each other to nowhere in particular. The woman and the dog, named Tank, were still playing fetch when Lark pulled himself away from the mesmerizing water and headed to his motel room to clean up.

  Thirty minutes later he and Lacey were seated in the Horizon Motel Restaurant. It was rumored to serve the best breakfast on the island. From the looks of the heaping plates of food the other diners were digging into, Lark had no doubt that the restaurant’s reputation was well earned. He and Lacey ordered omelettes, fried potatoes, and homemade Wisconsin breakfast sausage and settled back into well-worn red vinyl booths to discuss their plans for the day.