They dropped Joel off at his Explorer and, for the second time that day, drove south on Highway 13. They caught up with the ambulance just south of Prentice. The EMTs radioed that Ann was still breathing but unconscious with a very low pulse and blood pressure. As Lark suspected, she had a broken arm and leg as well as a head injury.
Because Lark radioed ahead, wherever possible the police were out so they could get through the small communities without slowing down. Despite the snowstorm and icy roads, they made the ninety-mile trip in less than two hours. The ER staff were waiting for them along with an orthopedic surgeon and a neurosurgeon. A team of people swarmed over Ann, starting additional IVs and whisking her to X-ray. By one in the morning, it was confirmed that she had a broken arm, a very nasty broken leg, and a subdural hematoma in her brain. The neurosurgeon informed them that it looked like her shoulder had deflected the brunt of the hit to her head and probably saved her life.
Ann was admitted to the ICU and the staff made arrangements for them to stay at a nearby Super 8 Motel. They were told that the doctors would talk with them after their 7 A.M. rounds, or sooner if anything changed. When John insisted on staying, the staff informed him that he needed his rest so he could be there for Ann when she woke up. He reluctantly agreed to go to the motel, as long as they promised to call if her condition changed.
When they got to the Super 8, there were only two rooms available. Lark and Lacey agreed to room together. They realized they were once again stuck away from home with no toiletries or a change of clothes. The night manager directed them to a twenty-four-hour Kmart where
they were able to buy the sundries they needed. Once they were back at the motel, Lacey showered and put on her newly purchased sweats while Lark called Joel. He looked desolate when she came out of the bathroom.
“No luck tracking the snowmobile. Apparently everyone in Big Oak has their snowmobiles out now.”
“It's got to be someone around the lake or close by,” she said, sitting down on the bed.
“Who, is the question. Everyone has alibis or no motive.” He headed for the shower.
Ten minutes later, Lark came out of the bathroom, wearing his new sweatpants, to find Lacey propped up in bed reading a book.
“Once again, I'm not sleepy. Is the light going to bother you?”
“Not at all.” He got into bed and rolled on his side away from her.
She spent the next half hour reading. Lark's rhythmic breathing told her he had fallen asleep. Her eyes began to get heavy, so she turned out the light and went right to sleep. She was awakened two hours later by Lark moaning and thrashing around.
She rolled over and put her arm around him, whispering, “Ssh, you're having a dream. Go back to sleep.” He calmed down and she nodded off, curled around him.
The next thing she knew, the back of her neck was being kissed and her breasts were being caressed. She was in heaven. She roused up to roll away from Lark, remembering the last time this happened, but he pulled her close.
She rolled over and kissed him and he moaned, “Oh, Maria.”
That brought her up short. She shoved her palms against his chest to get away from him. He opened his eyes and tried to pull her back.
“Wake up, Lark, you're having a dream. You called me Maria.” She moved further away.
“Oh my God,” he said as he sat up. “I'll sleep on the floor.” He grabbed his pillows and got up.
“Don't be ridiculous. Get back in bed and go to sleep. Nothing happened.” She turned away from him.
Embarrassed and not knowing what to say, he slid back into the bed, rolled on his side, and fell asleep.
DECEMBER 1âSWENSON
Lacey vaguely heard the phone the next morning, but it stopped after only two rings and she fell back to sleep. When she woke up the next time, it was to Lark shutting the door.
“What time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn.
“Eight-thirty,” he replied, handing her a foam cup of steaming coffee.
“Holy shit, why didn't you wake me up?”
“John called for a ride to the hospital. You were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you.” He sat down at the table on the other side of the room and uncapped his coffee. “I got some bagels and donuts.” He held up a crumpled bag.
“What's the latest on Ann?”
“They're taking her to surgery to remove the subdural hematoma. She may come back on a respirator for a while. If she can tolerate it, they're also going to fix her arm and leg.”
Lacey hurried into the bathroom to get dressed.
“I'm going to get a paper,” Lark yelled after her. “There's a coffee shop in the lobby. I'll meet you there when you're ready.”
Lark slid into a booth in the restaurant and ordered a fresh cup of coffee from the grandmotherly waitress. He opened the paper to find that Ann's accident had not made it into print. He searched for news about the murders and, finding none, discovered that there was nothing else in the paper that could hold his attention. He folded it up and slid it across the table as the waitress brought his coffee. He took a sip and stared out the window at the icy, snow-covered parking lot. A large red pickup truck with a giant snow blade was clearing the snow the best it could around the cars in the lot. Although the snow had stopped, the sky remained overcast. The radio predicted more snow that afternoon.
His mind wandered off the weather and onto Lacey. He did not want to think about how much he wanted her. Vivid images floated through his mind. He leaned on the table and dropped his face in his hands, rubbing as if to erase the memory. Lacey found him in the same position a few minutes later. She got coffee to go and they headed for the hospital. Once Ann was off to surgery and they were sure that John had everything he needed, they drove to Wausau so Lacey could pick up more clothes.
Despite the snowy and icy roads, they made good time. Just west of Mosinee they slowed down to observe an unfamiliar site in Wisconsin: a herd of buffalo. The huge wooly beasts, their coats dusted with snow, wandered stoically in their snow-covered field.
“Wouldn't you hate to run into one of those on a dark highway?” Lacey asked, in awe of their size.
“Don't even think it,” Lark said with a shudder as they drove on through town. Once they got off the interstate and headed into Wausau, Lark's eyes were drawn to the huge Lippert Motors sign. As they drove by the dealership, he looked at the number of cars in the lot and understood how the owners might not know if one was missing. Across the road from Lippert's was the strip mall where Terry Foltz's car had been found. The remainder of the area was built-up with fast-food restaurants and convenience stores. He turned around and went back to the strip mall, ignoring Lacey's questions about what he was doing. How the killer had pulled off part of the murder was suddenly clear to him.
“He dumped Terry's car here, went right across the road, and stole a
car off the Lippert's lot,” Lark said in wonderment. “Then he drove back to Big Oak and dumped the car in Grezetski's parking lot. We have to check every business in this area to see if anyone saw anything. Maybe the pictures will help jog someone's memory. We've also got to find out if the place where Gemma's car was dropped was near the Lippert dealership in Eau Claire. I can't remember, can you?” he asked Lacey.
She shook her head, trying to take it all in. “This makes so much sense. Why did it take us so long to figure it out?”
“It always makes sense when you have all the pieces,” Lark said, pulling out of the lot. “No one linked Gemma to Big Oak until we found her body there, so no one could link her to the stolen car abandoned in Big Oak.”
They discussed their next steps in the few minutes it took to get to Lacey's. While she packed, Lark checked in with Joel. They had checked the homes around the lake and found numerous snowmobile tracks leaving them, as most people were taking full advantage of the early snowfall. Ann's Explorer was still missing. All the students had been checked out and had alibis, in Madison. They were basically nowhere.
Lark told Joel about the discovery they'd made on the way up to Wausau and he agreed to speed up the canvassing of the businesses around Lippert's and the strip mall. Before they hung up, they decided that the state police would put a guard on Ann's door and admit no one but family. They hoped that when she regained consciousness, she could identify who had done this to her.
They got back to Marshfield just as Ann got out of surgery. The orthopedic surgeon was able to set her broken arm and leg at the same time the neurosurgeon drained the subdural hematoma. She was on a ventilator so she wasn't able to talk.
Joel drove to Marshfield, leaving his two troopers to scour the area for Ann's car and anyone who had seen her. He arrived in time to have lunch with Lark and Lacey. Afterwards they got a conference room at the hotel to review their information.
After four hours of rehashing, Lacey summarized what they agreed upon. “Whoever dumped Terry's and Gemma's cars stole cars from Lippert Motors and abandoned them in Big Oak. Whoever stole the cars was able to get in and out of the dealerships without leaving any signs of a break-in. All the UW students from Big Oak have strong alibis with the exception of Jim Kryjack and Ron Chevsky. Cathy Lowery and Sara
Waltner were out of town for both murders. Gus Lowery has an alibi for each murder; he was skiing in Michigan, as confirmed by multiple witnesses. Steve Waltner has yet to be interviewed and is purported to hate gays. He was supposed to be out of town for the murders, but that's not confirmed. Lonnie Chevsky doesn't have an alibi for either of the murders. Myra and Joe Banski have strong alibisâthey were in full view of customers at their restaurant.”
“This leaves us with Jim Kryjack, and Lonnie and Ron Chevsky for one of the murders,” Joel said. “The Waltners have weaker alibis and connections to Lippert Motors. We need to check them out again.”
“We probably ought to take Jim off duty,” Lark said.
“These people will have to be interviewed for the attack on Ann,” Lacey said, drumming her fingers on the table. “We know where Jim was this time, which should rule him out.”
“Whoever did the girls probably also beat Ann,” Joel said. “Her injuries are the same. Let's focus on who could have done all three.”
“Ron and Lonnie Chevsky are both still up in Rhinelander, so they couldn't have done this to Ann,” Lark said.
“Sara Waltner and Cathy Lowery were both in town and we don't know where Steve Waltner was,” Lacey said, pacing around the room. “Why don't we bring those three in and question them? Look a little more into their alibis.”
They agreed that Lark's staff would reschedule Sara and Cathy for interviews the following afternoon, and find out where Steve Waltner was since they had not been able to locate him in Atlanta. They decided that Joel and Lacey would do the interviews in Big Oak and Lark would stay in Marshfield to see if Ann regained consciousness.
Joel agreed to drive Lacey to Wausau so she could spend the night in her own bed. When he offered to have Molly get a babysitter so the four of them could go out to dinner, Lark and Lacey both refused, claiming they were exhausted and just wanted to get a good night's sleep.
“When did you two become party poopers?” Joel asked, studying them. “I've never known either of you to turn down a free meal.”
“I'm really exhausted and tomorrow will be another long day,” Lacey said. “I want to go home and have a nice soak in my own tub.”
“Who the hell are you, Grandma Moses?” Joel asked, looking at her as if she'd grown a third eye.
“Joel,” Lark interrupted, “I agree with her. I'm bushed and, besides,
this is all I have to wear. My big plan for the night is to buy a change of clothes. We'll do it another time.”
“Did you two have a fight?” Joel asked, glancing back and forth between them.
“We've been together constantly for almost two weeks. Lacey hasn't been home other than to pick up clothes. She deserves a night in her own bed.”
Lacey grabbed Joel's arm and steered him to the door. “Let's get you home to Molly. We're going to swing through Taco Bell, I'm dying for Mexican.”
“Guess we're leaving,” Joel said, turning around to study Lark's face.
“I'll make those appointments and confirm the times later tonight,” Lark said, staying behind to erase the board.
“Call Lacey,” Joel said. “I'm taking my girl out to dinner.”
Lark erased the board, thankful that he'd dodged a bullet. It was clear that Lacey felt as awkward as he did about last night. After taking the notes from the day back to his room and calling Big Oak to get them started on setting up interviews, he did as he had planned. Feeling a little more cheerful after doing a mundane errand like shopping, he went to the hospital to see if he could take John out to dinner.
He was heartened to find John at Ann's bedside. She was still on the ventilator and appeared to be sleeping. Her right arm was in a cast and a portion of her casted right leg showed below the sheet. A piece of gauze was taped to a shaved area on the right side of her head. She had three IV bags hanging around her and was hooked up to a machine that monitored her heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing. When Lark started talking with John, her eyes flew open and she started flailing her left arm about.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” John asked, leaning over her bed.
She pantomimed writing.
“We tried that before but no one could read it.”
Ann's eyes got huge and she flapped her hand about, trying to mouth words around the breathing tube. The alarm on her ventilator went off. She rolled her eyes and pointed to the tube in her mouth, making a pulling motion with her hand.
“No,” John said, taking her hand between his. He took a deep breath. “Remember, the doctor said not until morning. You've got a little
pneumonia and he's afraid if we take it out you might not be able to maintain your oxygen level.”
Ann rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from him, slamming it down on the bed. Her ventilator beeped after she made what sounded like a very long sigh. Her eyes glaring, she again pantomimed writing a note.
“All right, all right, we'll try it again.” John handed her the clipboard from her nightstand. She snatched the pencil out of his hand and began printing.
“With the anesthetic, pain medication, and brain surgery ⦔ His voice trailed off as Ann looked up, her eyes snapping.
After what seemed like an eternity, she handed John the clipboard. He and Lark studied the scribbles. They looked like chicken scratches.
“Honey, I can't read this,” John said.
She slammed her hand down on the bed and tears dripped out of the corners of her eyes. One of the alarms on her monitor went off and she strained around to look at it. She then settled herself down and closed her eyes.
“Her blood-pressure alarm went off and she's trying to relax herself and get it back down,” John said, watching the numbers fall as a nurse walked into the room.
“What's going on with you, Ann?” the nurse asked, smiling at her as she reset the alarm. “Are you having any pain?”
Ann shook her head and pantomimed that she wanted her breathing tube out. The nurse explained why it needed to wait until morning.
Ann pantomimed writing a note and the nurse looked around for the clipboard. John showed her the scribbles and asked if there was any other way for Ann to communicate.
“We've got letter boards around here somewhere. She can point at the letters and spell out words.”
They turned around at the sound of a side rail rattling and found Ann nodding. The nurse returned with a board with some common words like âtime,' âpain,' âyes,' and âno' printed on it in big letters, along with the alphabet and the numbers 0 through 10. She gave Ann a pointer and set up the board on the easel that came with it. Ann began spelling out words. First came:
Where am I?
John told her that she was in Marshfield.
She'd spelled out
What hap
when John interrupted to explain how they had found her.
She frowned and spelled out
Very cold
.
“I'll get you another blanket,” Lark said, heading for the door.
Ann tapped the word
No
over and over, causing John to grab Lark and pull him back in the room. Ann then spelled out,
In the snow, very cold, frostbite.
She looked at her white fingertips.