“We’d better do that ourselves,” Lark said.
John gave them each a copy of a list and a copy of Numismatic News. “Door County has a very active numismatics group, as do several other counties in eastern Wisconsin. Numismatic News, the coin collectors’ bible, is published weekly in Iola, Wisconsin. They’ll be happy to do a story for you. Don’t worry,” he told Joel. “I didn’t give them any details of what had been stolen or who it’s been stolen from. Several different auctioneers and coin shops advertise in Numismatic News. If you get them lists of what’s been stolen, they’ll watch out for them. Depending on the mint year, there may be hundreds, thousands, even millions, of one coin, but if they get several different coins in at the same time off your list, it will make them highly suspicious. They’ll check with you before they sell them.”
“I’ve never seen so much information in one place and felt so helpless.” Joel sifted through all the papers Ann and John had given him.
“If you save your databases onto discs, I’ll print them out for you,” Ann said, giving Lark and Lacey each a disc.
“Did you drag a printer up here with you too?” Lark asked as he popped the disc into his laptop.
“The printer is compliments of the Door County Sheriff’s Office,” Joel said. “They’d like to have it back tomorrow morning, so we need to get your printing done tonight. I’m starved. Where are we going for dinner?”
Lark and Lacey tried to beg off, saying that they had dates, but Ann talked them into dinner at Carlos Banditos in Fish Creek. She promised to have their data printed if they came to dinner. They agreed to meet at the restaurant at 7 P.M.
Wednesday Night
May 30—Railhouse Restaurant and Dance Hall,
Baileys Harbor, Wisconsin
Dinner at Carlos Banditos was a raucous affair. Everyone had been busy during the day and they were famished when they got to the restaurant. They ordered appetizers and pitchers of margaritas before dinner. Everyone was quite jovial when they left the restaurant. Sophie, Gene, and Lacey decided to go to the Railhouse to dance. Sophie pestered Lark until he reluctantly agreed to go after learning that it was rock-and-roll night.
They danced frequently and Lark was the only one of the foursome who didn’t drink beer pretty steadily throughout the evening. He had cut off the alcohol right after they got there, anticipating that he would have to drive everyone home.
He was seriously considering how wonderful it would be to go back to the Edgewater and go to bed, but he’d made up his mind that he and Sophie weren’t leaving until Lacey and Gene left. Besides, he didn’t think Sophie would leave until Gene did since she seemed to be lavishing most of her attention on him. Lark had seen Sophie behave this way before. It had bothered him when they were an item. It meant nothing to him now. He was concerned about Lacey, who seemed to be getting angrier by the minute. He was glad for a moment of peace while Lacey and Gene were dancing and Sophie was in the ladies’ room.
Lacey came back to the table first, her face a thundercloud. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” she shouted over the music.
Lark patted the seat of one of the chairs and she sat down. He leaned over and talked into her ear. “There’s a small problem with that. You came with Gene and I came with Sophie. Don’t you think it would be rude to leave without them?” He tried to gauge how drunk she was.
Lacey’s voice was steady and her eyes were clear but snapping. “Don’t you think it’s rather rude that Sophie and Gene are back in the corner by the rest rooms with their tongues down each other’s throat? You couldn’t get them any closer together if you Super Glued them.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Men are pond scum.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
Lark raced after her, grabbing her shoulder as they neared the exit. “Lacey, I’m so sorry.”
Lacey shook off his arm.
“Maybe they’ve just had too much to drink.” Lark guided her out the door to the parking lot, where they wouldn’t have to shout to hear each other.
“That’s bullshit. Gene never drinks as much as you think he does. He’s not on call tonight but he’s still only had two beers just in case. Besides, he’d probably screw anything in a skirt. That’s what happened to his marriage. His wife finally got tired of him messing around and divorced him. He was a sitting duck for Sophie.” She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.
Lark prayed he’d be able to get her to his car before the dam broke and the great flood began.
Lacey stopped beside Lark’s Jeep and rummaged in her purse. “Dammit, I can’t even find a tissue.” She frowned at Lark. “Where is that handkerchief you men always produce when women cry in the movies?”
Lark unlocked the car and got her some napkins from the console. “This is the best I can do.”
“Figures,” Lacey said, her voice muffled. She walked away from the Jeep and sat down in the swing that hung in the gazebo at the edge of the parking lot.
Lark sat down beside her and put his arm around her, drawing her head onto his shoulder. “I really am sorry about this.” He squeezed her shoulders as she sobbed into the napkins he’d given her.
“I can’t believe this is happening to me while I’m up here on a case with Joel.” She turned away to blow her nose before leaning back against his shoulder. “He always thought Gene was just a good-looking party guy. Turns out he was right.”
Lark laughed and hugged her. “He’s made for Soph. She loves to party.”
“You and Sophie seem to get along well, but I’ve never pictured you as a party guy.” She pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with the last of her napkins.
“I used to be able to party with the best of them.”
“What happened?”
“I met my wife and things changed in an instant. Sophie and I were pretty serious—or, I thought we were. That all faded away when I met Maria.”
Lacey searched for a dry spot on one of her napkins. “I’m going to go home and go to bed. I’ve got a lot of work to do in the morning.” She stood up.
Lark stood up and pulled her into his arms. He raised her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
Lacey couldn’t break away from his eyes. They seemed to bore into her. Everything around her faded into the background.
“We’ve been looking for you two everywhere,” Gene said.
Lark and Lacey jerked apart as if they had been shocked with a cattle prod. “Fuck off, Gene.” Lacey walked over and stared into his eyes. “I saw you and Sophie glued to each other over by the rest rooms.”
“Lacey, baby.” Gene attempted to put his arm around her shoulders. She shrugged it off. “Sophie and I both had a little too much to drink.”
Lacey jabbed her finger at him. “Don’t try and blame this on alcohol—you’re sober as a judge.” Lacey turned and glared at Sophie, who had walked over to stand beside Lark. “Sophie, he’s yours. You can have Dr. Gene the dancing machine. Unless you’re Svengali in the sack, I’d recommend an electronic homing device to reduce his tendency to stray when you aren’t in his immediate eyesight.”
Gene stared at Lacey as if he were seeing a ghost. “Lacey, for God sakes, we’re not married. We have a great time together.” He reached his hands out to enfold her in a hug. “Lacey, baby, you know we’re good together. Don’t screw this up.”
“Get away from me.” She shoved his hands away. “I’m not the one who screwed this up. And, here’s a news flash for you. Most women despise being called baby.”
Gene looked surprised.
“I’ll be over to get my stuff tomorrow.” She walked back toward the entrance to the restaurant.
“Lacey,” Lark called after her. “How are you getting back to Fish Creek?”
“I’ll call Joel or I’ll call a cab. You go on home with Sophie.” She walked into the entrance of the bar.
She was digging through her purse looking for her cell phone when Lark laid a hand on her shoulder, scaring her to death. She turned arou
nd and stumbled into him. “What are you doing in here? I said I’d call Joel to pick me up.”
“Sophie’s going to catch a ride with Gene. I’ll take you home.”
They road in silence to Fish Creek. The night was clear and a sea of stars twinkled above them. Lark tuned the radio to a classical-music station.
Lacey sat in her seat with her eyes closed for a few seconds after Lark pulled in behind her Cherokee. She sighed and reached for the door handle. “Thank you for being here tonight. I apologize for being so emotional. I really don’t know what came over me.”
Lark turned in his seat to look at her. Tears were once again welling up in her eyes.
“I can’t believe this.” Lacey wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Part of it’s my ego. It’s one thing to hear about your date hitting on someone else. It really shook me up to see him all over Sophie.”
Lark flipped up the console and slid across the seat. He enfolded her in his arms. “I can’t stand to see a woman cry. What can I do to make it stop?” He kissed her temple and each of her eyes, tasting the salt from her tears.
Lacey put her arms behind his neck and pulled his face down toward her for another kiss. They explored each other’s mouth as Lark’s hands skimmed over her back. She moaned as he kissed his way down her neck. His hands skimmed over her breasts and he began to unbutton her shirt.
Headlights flashed over them, startling them apart. “Let’s go inside,” Lacey said, trying to catch her breath. Without comment they got out of the Jeep and walked right into Joel, who had just gotten out of his car.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lacey asked as she grappled with the buttons on her shirt.
“Dropping off some notes for you on the robberies. I thought you were out with Gene.” He glanced back and forth at them, noticing Lacey’s disheveled clothing. It took everything he had to maintain a straight face and not comment.
“I, uh, was but, uh…” Lacey stuttered.
“Gene got called to the hospital and I agreed to drop Lacey off. We were going to go over some notes, but now that you’re here, I’ll let you two get to work on that file.” Lark turned back toward his car.
“Hold on a minute,” Joel said, watching uncertainty play across Lacey’s face. “I was just going to drop this off. You two can go through it. It’s some additional information from the insurance companies on the burglaries. I’ve got problems of my own to deal with.” He thrust the folder into Lacey’s hands and headed back to his car.
“What time do you want to start tomorrow?” Lark asked as they watched Joel pull out of his parking space.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Lark smiled down at her.
“You don’t think it’s a good idea,” Lacey repeated, her eyes blazing. “It seemed like the greatest idea in the world five minutes ago.”
“Lacey, I think we should keep this professional.”
“Yeah, right. What did you call those maneuvers in the front seat of your car?” She headed down the dimly lit path that led to her cottage. Lark was right behind her.
“Let’s quiet down. I’m sure you have neighbors who are trying to get a little rest.”
“Screw the neighbors.” She turned around and glared at him but did lower her voice. “What was that little interlude out there in the car?”
“We just got carried away. We got caught up in the emotion of the moment,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
She walked up to her cottage and realized she did not have her purse. “Dammit, I think I left my purse in your Jeep.”
“Stay here. I’ll go get it for you.” Lark trotted back down the path before she could say anything.
Lacey decided against following him and sat down on the stoop to get her head straight. She was angry with Gene but, most of all, angry with herself. She didn’t want to admit it, but if Joel hadn’t stopped by, she would have made love to Lark right in the front seat of his car. The whole time she’d dated Gene she’d never felt that way; in fact, she’d never felt that way with any man.
She put her head in her hands to think. She decided that she would follow Lark’s lead. The last thinking she wanted was to go mooning after some man who wasn’t interested in her. She wondered what was taking so long and got up off the stoop and headed out to Lark’s car.
Lark jogged back to the Jeep and found Lacey’s purse lying under the passenger seat. He got it out and sat down on the edge of the seat to clear his head. There was the small—no—large matter of the jolt he’d felt when they’d kissed. He’d only felt that way one other time in his life and he was not interested in going there again, not now anyway. He shut the car door and stood in the parking lot pondering what to do. Something touched his arm and he jumped what felt like a mile.
He glared down at Lacey. “Jesus Christ, woman, I said I’d get your purse for you. You could give me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that.”
“Sorry. It just seemed like you were gone a long time. I see you found it.” She rummaged around in it and came up with her key.
He looked at his watch so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “It’s late and I think I’d better be getting back.”
“Fine.” She headed back down the path to her cottage.
Lark, sensing trouble, followed her. “Are you okay with this?”
“Not really,” she said as she unlocked the door to her cottage, “but I’ll get beyond it just like I’ll get beyond Gene.”
“This is nothing like what you had going with Gene,” Lark snapped.
“You’re right, it isn’t.” She walked around him into the living room. “Gene and I had a relationship. Dinners out, dancing, trips together, and pretty good sex. You and I work together and kind of dance around the strong attraction we have for each other. In other words, we don’t have much of anything other than an occasional working relationship, and that is exactly where we will keep it.” She took hold of the door, signaling for him to leave. “I’ll see you at one tomorrow afternoon.”
“Lacey—” Lark reached out to touch her arm until he saw her blazing eyes.
Lacey stepped away from him. “I’m a little emotional right now. But, never fear, I’ll be okay tomorrow. See you at one.” She shut the door behind him and immediately turned out the living room lights.
The “men are pond scum” mantra repeated itself in her head as she undressed. Why do I always fall for the screwed-up good-looking guys? she asked herself as she brushed her teeth. She crawled into bed assuring herself that Gene Boskirk and Lark Swenson were the dumbest scumbuckets in the pond.
Lark trudged out to his Jeep, exhausted by the events of the evening. He got into his Jeep and thought about how he’d like to ring Sophie’s neck for upsetting the apple cart for all of them. She had always been a walking pheromone where men were concerned. She collected men like a lint roller collected fuzz and probably always would. Eventually she’d fall hard for someone. He viciously hoped it would be Gene Boskirk. He drove back across the peninsula to the Edgewater Resort and fell into bed.
Thursday Morning
May 31—Door County Memorial Hospital,
Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin
Lark felt as if he had just fallen asleep when the telephone went off like an explosion beside his head. His alarm clock showed 2:15 A.M. He groaned and rolled out of bed as he picked up the phone, knowing that a late-night call was never good news.
“Lacey and I will be over to pick you up in ten minutes. Daisy DuBois has been shot,” Joel said, in a hurry to get off the phone.
“Who’s Daisy DuBois?” Lark attempted to stretch the phone cord far enough to fish socks and underwear out of the armoire drawer.
“We’ll tell you when we pick you up.”
Lark pulled on his clothes and hurried past the Ransons’ suite and down the wooden stairs. He made a mental note to call John and beg off the golf game they had scheduled for the morning. Wind whipped through the old maple and
cherry trees bringing the smell of rain. He could hear the waves washing up on the shore of Eagle Harbor.
He sat down on a bench in the garden in front of the parking lot. Whoever had designed the garden had placed lights close to the ground throughout the space. The small lights shining up under the shrubs and ferns made the garden look like a fairyland. Sometime during the last twenty-four hours the gardeners had replaced the fading spring bulbs with a sea of blooming annuals. The pond and the little stream that flowed through the garden had been dry the day before. Water now burbled softly over the stones in the stream. He watched three male mallards waddle out from under some ferns near his feet and glide into the little pond. They paddled away from him to the other side of the pond and got out and settled under a bush.
“You boys are better off as you are. Who needs females?” he whispered just as Joel and Lacey pulled into the parking lot.
He jumped in the backseat and Joel pulled out onto south Highway 42.
“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep but these cases just moved into high gear. The sheriff’s office got a 911 call at oh one forty-one from someone at Daisy’s home. They heard a faint voice call for help and then nothing. They dispatched the police and an ambulance and found Daisy DuBois lying on her kitchen floor in a pool of blood. She was shot three times; once in the head and twice in the back. She was still alive when they got there but just barely. They took her to Door County Memorial.”
“Who the hell is Daisy DuBois?” Lark asked.
“Rose Gradoute’s sister. Paul Larsen’s interior decorator and off-and-on lover. Her house is up the road, just north of Ellison Bay. Skewski’s there and I have another crime-scene team double-timing it up here from Fond du Lac. It looks like she surprised a burglar and was shot and left for dead. We’re headed down to Door County Memorial to see if we can get anything from her, and then we’ll go to the scene.”
Death at the Door Page 10