“I’ve been there,” Lark said, smiling.
“We went to dinner and a movie, a chick flick.” He gave Lark an embarrassed, lopsided grin. “I had a great time. The movie was a tearjerker and she was leaning against me, crying. I had my arm around her, comforting her, you know the drill. I drove her back to the dorm. We sat in the car and held hands and talked. We kissed twice, little pecks. I asked her what was wrong and she said she just didn’t know me well enough to get too friendly, and that she was very busy in school and didn’t have time for a relationship. I asked her if she was giving me the brush-off. She acted surprised. She hugged me and told me that the timing just wasn’t right. She said if we didn’t meet anyone else that we might get together again later, but that she didn’t want me to think she didn’t like me because she did. She gave me a kiss, one with a little more soul, and told me she had to go. That was the last time I saw her other than to talk to for a few minutes on campus. It was about a month before she disappeared in Eau Claire.”
“What makes you think she disappeared in Eau Claire?”
“Because that’s where they found her car. I heard she gassed up there and was never seen again. Isn’t that what happened?” Jim asked, glancing over at Lark.
“No, someone beat her to death and threw her body in the Ransons’ marsh.”
Jim sat forward, his eye big as saucers. “You mean that skeleton we found was Gemma?”
“Yes,” Lark said, hating what he was doing to the kid.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” he said, burying his head in his hands to hide his tears. “I remember that weekend. My parents were short at the restaurant so I helped out. I had no idea she was here.” He stared at Lark, his face a mask of sadness, his eyes overflowing. “Do you think I had something to do with this? Is that why you brought me in here?”
“I need to know anything you can remember about Gemma’s disappearance. You’ve been involved in this investigation from the start.”
Jim wiped his eyes with a white handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket. Lark wondered how many men in their twenties carried handkerchiefs.
“I can’t think of anything other than what I just told you. I only saw her a couple of times on campus before she disappeared. The campus police questioned all of us who knew Gemma, including me. The investigation was centered around Eau Claire because that’s where her car was found. As I said, I was up here that weekend helping my parents.” Jim stuffed his handkerchief in his back pocket. “I’ve got to get back to work, Chief. Check with Sandi Waltner and Katey Lowery. They knew her better than anyone else.” He pulled himself up out of the chair and headed for the door.
“Jim,” Lark said, raising his hand to stop him before he got away.
“Are you’re going to tell me you don’t want me to have anything to do with this case?”
“Let’s sleep on that. We’ll figure it out with Joel and Lacey tomorrow.”
Lark jotted notes from his interview with Jim and called Joel to find out if they’d been able to locate the Pattersons. Joel told him the Wayzata police were still trying to track them down.
“How’s Thanksgiving?” Lark asked, marveling at the racket he heard in the background.
“Thanksgiving sucks. Robbie has chicken pox and Joey has the flu and all its side effects. My mother-in-law is driving us berserk. Thank God she leaves tomorrow. It’s so ugly here that Molly almost has me talked into getting my nuts cut.”
Lark couldn’t help himself, he started laughing. “Grenfurth, I know you’re secretly loving every minute of your holiday.”
“I don’t think so. But you’re so sappy about this that you must have your eye on someone to settle down with. The lovely Lacey must have gotten to you. Molly and I had been thinking of introducing you two to each other.”
“She’s way too young for me. Besides, she’s not my type,” Lark quipped, just as Lacey walked in the door.
“I’ll be up tomorrow. I want to get my mother-in-law on the road before I leave. I’d hate to have to investigate my wife on a homicide charge even though every jury in the country would judge it a mercy killing. Then we can talk about fatherhood since you think it sounds like so much fun. Gotta go.” Joel hung up.
Lacey stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “Was that Joel?”
“Yep,” Lark said, wondering what she’d overheard. “He’ll be back up tomorrow. Two of the kids are sick, he’s having murder fantasies about his mother-in-law, and Molly wants him to have a vasectomy.”
Lacey sat down in the chair in front of his desk and crossed her legs, swinging one back and forth.
Lark focused on cleaning off his desk.
“So, how’d the interview with Jim go?” she asked, wrapping her hands around her knee, which she continued to swing.
“It was tough. He really liked Gemma but she let him down easy.”
“Poor kid,” she said, shaking her head. “He looked upset when he left. Jesus, aren’t you starving?” she asked, grabbing her abdomen as they both listened to her stomach growl.
“Obviously, you are,” he said, laughing. He looked at his watch. “Holy shit, it’s five-thirty. Where does the time go?”
No one stopped them on the way out. The snow was on hiatus so they were able to get to the Ransons’ by quarter till six. The dogs announced their arrival before they rang the doorbell.
Ann opened the door. Her face was puffy, but for the first time that day, she had color in her face and her eyes were bright. “John’s in the kitchen wrestling with the last-minute details.” She raised her voice. “He refused my help but he might accept yours.”
“Bite me,” John yelled. “Everything’s under control. Go get dressed.”
“He’s just a little cranky,” Ann said as she headed upstairs.
Lark and Lacey wandered into the dining room. John had turned on the deck lights as well as the lights along the walk down to the lake. The snow sparkled and glowed against the lights.
Lacey was pressed into service lighting the candles on the table and the buffet, with an admonishment not to light any of the turkey candles because “Ann will kill me if any of her precious turkey collection is damaged.” Lark was put in charge of opening the wine.
Ann came down just as everything was ready. John and Lark got the turkey out of the oven and onto a platter. Ann and Lacey made gravy out of the drippings. Lacey stirred while Ann gave directions and asked about the latest on the two bodies. They got the mashed potatoes, John’s stuffing, and vegetables onto the buffet. Then it was every man for himself.
The meal was a relaxing time after three stressful days. They tried not to talk about bodies or murder. To make the evening almost perfect, the nursing supervisor at the hospital sent a nurse out to give Ann’s IV antibiotic.
By nine-thirty everyone had switched to beer. Ann had taken a couple more pain pills and settled in to try and figure out the football game, which had everyone else on the edge of their seats. She fell asleep against John’s shoulder with Sheba curled up in her lap and Duke squeezed into the sofa beside her. She awakened briefly about eleven when Lacey and Lark left.
THURSDAY EVENING
NOVEMBER 23—SWENSON
“What a great meal,” Lacey said, staring up at a midnight-blue sky full of stars and deeply inhaling the cold crisp air.
Lark walked silently beside her.
“No snow. What a great evening,” she said, glancing at him.
He smiled.
“Say something, dammit.”
“It was very enjoyable,” he replied, juggling the bags of leftovers John had given them. “I think you’ve had just a little too much to drink.” The group had polished off two bottles of wine with dinner and dessert.
“You’re right.” She tried to control her smile. “I haven’t had this much alcohol in years. It feels kind of good, kind of liberating, kind of like Christmas.” She trotted ahead of him.
“Be careful,” he called out.
Suddenly, she fell back
in the snow. He ran to help her, trying to hold onto their leftovers, and found her laughing and making a snow angel. She stepped out of the angel and began brushing the snow from her coat.
“You scared the shit out of me when you fell down like that,” he said, watching her shake the snow out of the hood of her coat.
“Obviously,” she giggled, “you haven’t had enough to drink, and I haven’t made a snow angel in, um”—she thought for a moment, sucking in a corner of her lower lip—“twenty—five years. You oughta try it. It might loosen you up.” She headed for the Jeep before he could speak.
Lacey hopped up in the seat and Lark gave her their packages. “This smells divine,” she said, burying her nose in the bag. “I need to have some more dressing when we get home.”
Lark groaned. “If I eat another thing my stomach will explode.”
“Suit yourself. You probably can’t handle the calories at this point in your life.” She slammed her door shut.
He brushed snow off the windshield and tried to figure out what was going on. It hit him like a brick. She’d made two cracks about age. He realized she must have heard some of his conversation with Joel, probably the part about her being too young for him. If she’d heard that, she’d also heard the part about her not being his type. He groaned and decided to kill Grenfurth when he saw him. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and got in the Jeep.
“Everything OK? I thought maybe something happened, as long as it took you out there.”
“Everything’s fine,” he said, starting the car.
“You know, I just can’t get over how beautiful it is tonight. Maybe it’s just the reprieve from the snow or”—she giggled—“maybe it’s the wine.”
“Probably a little of both,” he said, not wanting to rock the boat.
He turned on the radio, hoping it would preclude conversation. They listened to a medley of Motown songs and drove home in companionable silence.
Lacey plopped the food down on the bench in the laundry room while she hung up her coat and took off her boots. Then she ferried the packages into the kitchen.
“I’m going upstairs and change clothes, sixteen hours is enough in these jeans,” she said, running upstairs as he walked in the kitchen.
Lark started to put the food away but the smell of the turkey changed his mind. He decided to change clothes, then have a snack. He threw on sweats and beat Lacey downstairs. He was dishing up plates of turkey and stuffing when she trotted onto the landing in emerald green sweats. Her red hair haloed out around her head as it caught the light from the chandelier. She came into the kitchen and hoisted herself up on the counter.
“I know it’s not scientifically possible, but I’m starved.” She flashed a radiant smile. “I think I’ll have a beer if you’ve got any.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, blown away by her beauty. She stared at him, waiting for an answer. He told her to help herself and turned away to get their plates ready.
She jumped down off the counter. “Would it be too much trouble to have a fire? It was great last night,” she said, handing him a beer as she wandered past him into the family room.
“Sure, you finish the food and I’ll get one started.” He went out on the deck to get wood.
She watched him stand under the roof overhang, trying not to get his socks wet as he pulled wood from the covered storage bin. When he came back in the house, he brought a gust of bitter cold wind and snowflakes with him.
“Jesus, it’s cold out there. Would you believe it’s snowing again?”
“You’re shitting me,” she said, walking over to cup her face against the glass.
“This’ll help,” he said, turning on the deck lights. Lacey looked out beyond his deck just in time to see three deer, stopped in their tracks, mesmerized by the spotlights.
“Lark, get over here,” she yelled, causing the deer to run like hell.
The tension in her voice caused him to drop the wood carrier.
“Shit,” she yelled as she lost sight of the deer.
“What? What the hell is it?” he shouted, sliding up beside her on the hardwood floor.
“You missed them, they ran off,” she said, staring out the door.
He flipped off the indoor and outdoor lights and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her away from the glass. “Who was out there?”
“Deer,” she said, pushing out of his arms and going back to look out the glass. “You missed them. There were three of them, two doe and a buck with a huge rack. Oh, look at your floor,” she said, seeing the firewood strewn all over. She knelt down and began picking up wood.
“This was all about deer?” he bellowed, staring down at her, his arms crossed. “You scared the shit out of me, I thought someone was out there.” He stomped over and began tossing wood on top of the carrier lying open on the floor. She stooped down to help. “I’ll get this,” he snapped. He looked over at her, his eyes flashing, and motioned her back to the kitchen.
“Fine,” she said, storming into the kitchen. “asshole,” she added under her breath, glad she’d overheard him tell Joel she wasn’t her type. Funny, she was beginning to think he was just her type until she’d heard that. Screw it, she told herself. Attractions come, attractions go. Now she just wanted to get through this assignment and move on. She slammed their plates into the microwave.
She went to the doorway to ask him to let her know when the fire was set, but instead watched him kneeling down, intent on getting the fire going. He stood up and turned around, blowing out a long fireplace match. Behind him, she saw small wisps of fire licking up around the pile of logs. Lark saw her and started to say something, but she turned around and walked back into the kitchen, hitting the start button on the microwave with just a little more vigor than necessary. When she turned around he was leaning up against the bar, a sheepish grin on his face.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that,” he said, trying to catch her eye.
“Forget it.” She walked past him into the family room with their silverware. “No need to apologize. I overdid it when I saw the deer. They caught me off guard.” She walked back into the kitchen. “Care if we eat on the coffee table?”
“Not at all,” he said, unsure of her mood.
“Why don’t you get the news tapes and we can watch them while we eat.”
Lark came downstairs just as she carried two aromatic plates of turkey and dressing into the family room. They ate with minimal conversation as they fast-forwarded through the news. Lark got up once to get them each another beer and exchange news tapes. Both stations reported that one of the bodies had been identified but the name was being withheld pending family notification. Lark turned off the VCR and the beginning credits for Holiday Inn rolled onto the screen.
“Oh my God, I haven’t seen Holiday Inn in ages,” Lacey said. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” Lark said, smiling at her.
She snatched up her dishes. “I’ll do these quick and go to bed and watch it.”
Lark took her hand as she leaned forward to pick up his plate. “Why don’t you stay down here? This isn’t a movie to watch alone and I’d like your company.”
She looked into his eyes, not saying a word.
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you. You scared the shit out of me. I thought someone was out there and I overreacted.”
“I accept your apology. Let’s get this stuff in the kitchen while there’s a commercial on. I don’t want to miss any of the movie.”
They hurried into the kitchen. Lark rinsed and Lacey loaded the dishwasher. He grabbed a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. She snagged the corkscrew and they hurried back into the family room just in time for the opening scene.
He sat down beside her. He poured their wine and stretched his arm over the back of the sofa behind her as they settled in to watch the movie. Thirty minutes later they were holding hands and leaning sleepily against each other.
Lark woke to that buzzing s
ound the television makes when all the programming is over. He needed a few seconds to grasp that it was his bladder, not the television, that had awakened him. It took him a while longer to realize that he and Lacey were twined around each other like pretzels. He tried to disengage himself but she hugged him closer. Freeing his left hand, he checked his watch, discovering that it was 3 A.M. Groaning, he told himself he was too old for this. He shook Lacey’s shoulder, murmuring that it was time to go to bed.
“God, I’m beat,” she mumbled, snuggling into him.
“Lacey, let’s go upstairs,” he said, shaking her a little harder.
She fluttered her eyes open and kissed him long and hard. “That was nice,” she said dreamily, struggling up from the sofa.
He turned out the light on the end table and stood up. A little woozy himself, he put his arm out to steady her. Before he knew it, he’d pulled her into his arms for another passionate kiss.
“Wow,” she said, leaning against him. “I can’t imagine how much better you’d be at this if I was your type or the right age.”
“What?” he squawked, not believing his ears.
“You heard me,” Lacey said, pushing away from him.
“Shit, I had a feeling you overheard me,” he said as she slipped out of his arms. “Listen, let me—”
Lacey held up her hand. “No explanation needed or for that matter, wanted.” She stepped away. “I’ll just take my thirty-six-year-old body upstairs for a little beauty rest. I’ve got to be prepared when someone more my age comes along.”
Lark grabbed her upper arms. “Let me explain.”
A thunderous blast went off, blowing out the French doors in the dining area. Glass fell like rain all around them. They dropped to the floor as a second gunshot went off, shattering the television.
“What the fuck,” Lark bellowed, pulling Lacey against him.
“Where’s your gun?” she whispered.
“Hall closet, same as yours.” He crawled away from her as a third gun blast went off, ripping through another section of glass and showering the fireplace wall with pellets. A few seconds later, they heard the roar of a snowmobile.
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