In a Midnight Wood

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In a Midnight Wood Page 26

by Ellen Hart


  Perhaps it was for the best that he hadn’t given her time to explain what she had in the works for tonight. Since he hadn’t officially shut anything down—and he had no power to keep her from continuing her investigation—Saltus had no hesitation in coming on board. If anything, he seemed excited to be part of it.

  “I’m heading over,” said Jane.

  “Maybe I should go with you,” said Cordelia. They were parked in the lot outside Wilburn Lowry’s junk shop.

  “If Mickler does sneak in through his private little door, I don’t think it would be good for him to find a crowd waiting for him.”

  “Three’s a crowd. Cute.”

  “Wish me luck?”

  “No. I don’t want you to do it. You haven’t thought this through.” She gripped Jane’s arm. “I have a bad feeling.”

  Jane had a bad feeling, too, but had managed to push it away. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I had a dream last night, Janey. You were swimming in this big, open body of water and you dove under. I thought you were looking for something and would come right back up, but you didn’t. I waited. It went on too long. It was too long, Janey. You were never coming back up.”

  Jane didn’t put much stock in Cordelia’s dreams. “It wasn’t real, Cordelia. I’m here. I’m just fine. You have to let me do this. It’s important.”

  “I know that.”

  “Cordelia?”

  “I need to hug you.”

  A hug might break her resolve. She didn’t want to go there. “We’ll have plenty of time to hug when it’s over.” She pushed out of the front seat and trotted across the highway. She was dressed all in black—black jeans, a hoodie, and boots. She’d already parked a car, one that Emma had borrowed from a friend, in the parking space outside the room.

  After unlocking the door, she switched on the overhead light and immediately began to set up the bed, making it look as if someone were sleeping in it. She’d dropped off a couple pieces of luggage earlier in the day, both filled with things she’d need to set up the room properly.

  As she finished, smoothing the blanket, plumping the pillow, then standing back to regard her handiwork, she heard a knock on the door. She raced to answer it, looking through the peephole to make sure it was Saltus. “Thanks for agreeing to this,” she said, holding the door open for him. She was glad to see he was in uniform, which happened to be dark blue.

  Silently, he began to walk around. Checking the sheets on the bed, he motioned for her to come over. “Look at that,” he whispered, pulling the bottom sheet away from the mattress. “He’s put a heavy-duty plastic under liner on. I’d say he’s planning ahead.”

  It was a disturbing thought. “I should probably set the toiletries out in the bathroom.”

  “Good call. Where’s the secret door?”

  She pointed to the built-in closet. While Saltus continued his examination, she opened the hanging cosmetic bag she’d brought and began to put out a few items. All of this detail might turn out not to be necessary, but if Mickler did show, and if he walked in the bathroom, it wouldn’t look right if he didn’t find anything personal.

  Finally, after putting out a pair of slippers and tossing a bathrobe on the end of the bed, Jane sat down under the front window, her back against the wall.

  “That’s some hidden door,” said Saltus, flipping off the overhead light and joining her.

  Jane had left the nightlight on in the bathroom, which provided them with just enough illumination to see.

  Now the only thing left for them to do was wait.

  “I have a friend sitting in a truck across the street,” said Jane, pulling her legs up to her chest. “She’ll call when she sees Mickler drive in. If, that is, he actually shows.”

  For the next couple of hours, they talked quietly. At exactly 12:57, according to Jane’s watch, her phone rang. She’d no sooner clicked it on than she heard Cordelia’s strangled voice saying, “He’s here, he’s here. He’s just driving in. Be careful, Janey. Aw, jeez, I wish I had more bubble gum.” She ended the call.

  Shortly after one, Jane heard a small thud come from the office next door. She shot to her feet and went into the bathroom, where she climbed into the bathtub and drew the shower curtain. With so little room to hide, she felt she’d be safest there. Saltus planned to fit himself into the space between the wall and a tall bureau, with his weapon drawn.

  The sound of a door creaking open alerted her that Mickler was now inside. She’d been hoping he’d give the bathroom a pass, but no such luck. She could hear him pick through the bottles on the shelf under the mirror. He must have opened the perfume because the scent of lily of the valley filled the air around her. She held her breath and tried to remain as still as possible, though her heart was beating so fast and loud that she began to wonder if he could hear it. Glad now that she’d remembered to wet the toothbrush, she prayed he wouldn’t look behind the curtain. And then, as quickly as he’d come in, the footsteps moved away.

  An anxious silence followed. Less than a minute later, Jane heard a scuffling, scraping noise, but couldn’t tell what it was.

  “What the—” came Mickler’s voice.

  “Drop the knife,” ordered Saltus.

  “Who the hell—”

  “Drop it!”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but you have no right to be in here.”

  “Kick the knife away from you. Do it!”

  More silence.

  “Good, now, on the floor. Hands behind your back.”

  “This is my motel,” shouted Mickler. “You’re trespassing.”

  “Down on the floor. Now! Move!”

  Jane edged out of the bathroom. She saw that Mickler was in a crouching position next to the bed.

  “This is illegal trespass,” Mickler grunted.

  Saltus racked the slide on his 9 mm. “One last time. Flat on the ground, asshole.”

  Grudgingly, Monty finally complied. As he stretched forward onto to his stomach, he said, “You have no right to be here.”

  In an instant, Saltus was on top of him, pulling his hands all the way back and cuffing his wrists.

  “He has every right to be in here,” said Jane.

  Mickler raised his head to look her way.

  “I rented the room with my credit card, so technically, it’s my room for the night. I invited Sgt. Saltus to come in, so he’s here legally. You’re not.”

  “I’m arresting you for breaking and entering, and attempted murder,” said Saltus, hauling Monty to his feet.

  “You set me up. I want a lawyer. This can’t be legal.”

  “Fine,” said Saltus. “I’ll read you your rights on the way to the squad car. When you get to the station, you’re allowed one phone call.”

  “You’ll pay for this,” said Monty, switching his furious gaze back to Jane. “I’m an innocent man. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay for Becca. Nothing wrong in that. She’s an old friend.”

  “If that’s so,” said Jane, “then why did you stab that pillow with your knife?” Even in the dim light, she could easily see the damage he’d tried to inflict.

  “Move,” ordered Saltus, shoving him out the door.

  Once they were gone, Cordelia burst into the room and smothered Jane with one of her bear hugs. Generally Jane found these shows of affection a little too bone crushing for her taste, but tonight, the strength of Cordelia’s arms around her felt like safety itself.

  “So what do we do now?” asked Cordelia. “Do you have to go down to the station to make a statement?”

  “Saltus said I could do it in the morning.” In the distance, she heard sirens. “Saltus called it in. A crime-scene unit should be here momentarily.”

  “Good,” said Cordelia. “I need a drink.”

  “Black-cherry soda? Strawberry?”

  “No, amazing as it may sound, I want one of those hard-boiled, mean streets, lemon drop martinis.”

  “Make it two,” said Jane, slipping her arm
around Cordelia’s waist, “and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  41

  Late the following morning, feeling hungover after drinking too many martinis at a bar with Cordelia, Jane stood at the French doors inside the lake house and watched her friend pace back and forth across the patio, gesticulating with gusto as she delivered her speech to a squirrel who sat on a platform feeder about twenty feet away. She was practicing the speech she would give later in the day. Jane had already read it, but it was entirely new information for the squirrel, who looked up every now and then, perhaps when Cordelia made a particularly salient point.

  Jane might have been the worse for wear after last night’s drama, but she was glad she’d been able to play a small part in finding justice for Sam and Becca. She would visit the police station later to give a statement. She was dying to know what Monty Mickler had done or said after his arrest. She’d asked Bobby Saltus to give her a call, but so far he hadn’t.

  Hearing the doorbell chime, she hurried to the front of the house to answer it. She found Leslie standing outside.

  “Oh, it’s you,” said Leslie. “I thought it would be Emma.”

  “She’s not here. But I make a reasonable substitute.”

  Leslie didn’t seem to pick up on the humor. “I should have called first, but I didn’t want to get into it on the phone.”

  “Into what?”

  She glanced around before focusing her gaze on Jane. “You look tired.”

  “Well, actually, last night—”

  “I know all about it. The entire town is talking about little else.”

  She didn’t seem very pleased with the news. “Why don’t you come in?”

  “You know,” said Leslie, unbuttoning her leather jacket, failing to give Jane a hug, “if you were my girlfriend, I might be kind of upset with what you did.”

  Not exactly the response Jane had expected. As they walked back to the living room, she said, “I thought it was a pretty great result.”

  “Do you often take that kind of risk?”

  Jane turned to look at her. “Not often.”

  “But sometimes.” Leslie removed her leather jacket before sitting down on one of the antique couches.

  “I’ve taken risks over the years, sure. But only when I think the outcome justifies it.”

  Leslie digested the comment. Changing the subject, she asked, “Where did Emma go?”

  “She left around eight to help set up the VFW hall for tonight’s reunion.”

  “Oh, of course. I should have known that.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m afraid so. I went by the hospital this morning to visit a friend, and I bumped into Wendell Romilly. We’ve served on several boards together, so I know him fairly well. He was there because of his son.”

  “Scott?”

  “He was in a car accident last night. Apparently he’d been drinking pretty heavily. He must have come to Emma’s party because it happened on Ewing Road as he was headed back to town.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Leslie unspooled a silk scarf from around her neck. “The paramedics think he must have lost control of his car, or swerved to avoid a deer, or—” She looked away. “Whatever it was, the car skidded into a ditch and flipped. He was badly hurt. The worst part is the injury to his spinal cord. One of the doctors told Wendell that there was a chance Scott might never walk again. He has no feeling in his legs.”

  “That’s just awful,” said Jane. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real blow. Wendell mentioned that Scott had been dating Emma most of the summer. I thought she should hear about what happened from a friend.”

  “It wasn’t a good relationship,” said Jane. “One of the reasons she’s glad to be leaving is to get away from him.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  Cordelia chose that moment to breeze in. “Ah, if it isn’t the good mayor. Are you here to talk about the romantic dinner Jane’s preparing for you tonight?”

  Leslie glanced at Jane with an inscrutable look. “Maybe.”

  Cordelia draped herself over the empty couch.

  “You look winded,” said Leslie.

  “Just did a run-through of my speech out on the patio.”

  “How did the squirrel like it?” asked Jane.

  “He was rather noncommittal. By the way, the caterers are back. I talked to the supervisor and he said it’s the final cleanup. Just an FYI, there are still plenty of grilled hot dogs in the fridge, so if anybody gets hungry, just let me know.”

  Jane detected a definite chill in the air. Could Leslie really be that upset with her because of what she’d done last night? “Have you talked to Saltus this morning?” she asked.

  “He came by the house to give me an update on the Romilly case.”

  “Did he say anything about Mickler?”

  “He’s lawyered up. Refuses to talk. But something else happened last night you probably haven’t heard about. Dave Tamborsky went to Grady Larson’s home to hand over his badge and gun. He admitted to raping a young woman in high school and then conspiring to murder Sam Romilly to cover it up.”

  Jane was astonished. By the looks of her, so was Cordelia. “Why would he just … confess?”

  “From what Grady said, the situation had been weighing on him for years. After Monty Mickler murdered Carli Gilbert and then burned her body to cover it up, Dave said he’d reached his breaking point.”

  “Excuse me?” said Jane, moving to the edge of her seat. “Mickler murdered her?”

  “It all came out during the interrogation down at the station after Dave was arrested and booked. Mickler apparently told Carli some of the details of Sam’s murder one night when he’d been drinking. Dave was afraid another guy, Ty Niska, might suffer the same fate. Niska’s in town for the reunion. He was there the morning Sam died, so if he talked to the police, it would have been curtains for all of them.”

  “Did Dave ask for a lawyer?”

  “No, but Grady insisted,” said Leslie. “The guy sat next to Dave during the entire interrogation. Grady was apparently very unhappy that Dave wasn’t taking any of his advice.”

  “A lawyer might be able to negotiate a plea deal,” said Jane.

  “Dave just kept saying he wanted it over, that he deserved to be punished.”

  “He must have been in serious pain to do something like that.”

  “A conscience is a great and terrible thing,” offered Cordelia.

  “So what will happen next?” asked Jane.

  “It’s in the hands of the county attorney. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  Jane wondered about Kurt’s involvement. “Do you know if Dave said anything about Kurt Steiner?”

  “He made a special point to say that Kurt knew nothing about what they’d planned. Sam was the one who dragged Kurt into the woods the morning he was killed. As for Kurt’s silence, Dave said that Monty had threatened him, threatened to hurt someone Kurt loved if he ever talked. Kurt did withhold evidence, but the threat should be a major mitigating factor. I doubt he’ll serve any time, especially if he agrees to testify at Mickler’s trial.”

  Jane felt her cell phone vibrate. Removing it from her back pocket, she checked to see who was calling. “Oh, it’s Evelyn Bratrude. She takes care of my dogs when I’m away.”

  “We’ll be home tomorrow,” said Cordelia. “Why is she calling now?”

  Jane said hello.

  “Sorry to interrupt your vacation,” said Evelyn’s soft voice, “but Mouse wasn’t feeling well last night. I took him to your vet this morning.”

  “What’s wrong?”’

  “He’s been kind of lethargic for a few days. I didn’t think much of it, but when he didn’t eat his dinner, and then he vomited once in the night, I thought I should have him checked over. Now, Jane, I don’t want you to get upset.”

  Jane immediately got upset.

  “He has pancreatitis. He’s dehy
drated, so they put him on an IV. They want to keep him overnight.”

  “How serious is it?”

  “What?” said Cordelia, sitting up straight and waving her hand. “Tell me.”

  Jane held up a finger.

  “They think he’ll be okay, but I won’t lie. The vet said it was a serious illness in dogs. But again, she felt like we caught it in time. He should be right as rain in a week or two.”

  That sounded like sugarcoating. “I’m coming back.”

  “Today?”

  “I’ll leave right now. Which vet saw him?”

  “Dr. Thompson.”

  Jane had taken her dogs to Dr. Thompson for years. She even had her home number. “Is Gimlet okay?”

  “She’s fine,” said Evelyn. “She’s right here next to me in the car. We’re sitting in front of the veterinary office. I feel terrible that this happened while I was taking care of them.”

  “Please,” said Jane. “You did the exact right thing.”

  “Goodness, I hope so.”

  “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  “All right. Drive safely, dear.”

  Jane put the phone away and then looked up. “Pancreatitis. I have to go back.”

  “But he’s okay, right?” asked Cordelia.

  Jane struggled to push away the crushed feeling in her chest. “He’s staying the night at the clinic.”

  “Not an answer.”

  “I don’t know the answer, Cordelia. I’ll call you when I’ve talked to the vet and spent some time with Mouse.”

  Cordelia leaped off the couch. “I’ll go pack half a dozen hot dogs for you. I know just how you like them. Ketchup, ballpark mustard, sweet relish, and onion. You’ll need sustenance while you’re on the road.”

  As Cordelia rushed off, Jane walked Leslie out to her car. “I hope you understand,” she said, feeling guilty that she was leaving without making the promised dinner. She also felt more than a little uneasy about Leslie’s reaction to what she’d done last night.

 

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