Read Cold Hunter's Moon Online
Authors: K. C. Greenlief
Cold Hunter's Moon (14 page)
NOVEMBER 23âSWENSON
Lark's cellular phone rang a little after three, just as they were putting the final nails into the plywood. Paul had arrested Ron Chevsky for drunk driving. Lark and Lacey drove through a blinding snowstorm to get to the station. Lacey rubbed her gloved hands over the passenger's side window and pressed her face up against the spot she'd cleared. She was able to get a look at the red swirling lights of Tetzloff's tow truck as it pulled a car out of the ditch.
They brushed off their coats and stamped snow off their boots as they trudged into the station. They met Paul at the coffeepot. He told them that Ron had failed his Breathalyzer test and was major league pissed that he'd been hauled in. They took a few minutes to warm up before interviewing him.
Ron looked worse than he had when Lark had last seen him. His long hair hung unkempt and matted around his face and his mustache was badly in need of a trim. His brown eyes were bloodshot. Blackheads pitted his nose and his face was an unhealthy ruddy color. He reeked of alcohol and body odor. A long underwear shirt, gray with dirt, stuck out of the
top of his orange hunting jumpsuit. Lark suspected that he hadn't changed clothes since they had seen him in the marsh on Tuesday.
top of his orange hunting jumpsuit. Lark suspected that he hadn't changed clothes since they had seen him in the marsh on Tuesday.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing dragging me in here like this? I tried to avoid that bitch but she was all over the fucking road,” he yelled as they walked in.
“Watch your language,” Lark said.
“Fuck you, asshole, and fuck that bitch cop you got with you, too,” Ron yelled back.
Lark reached across the table and grabbed Ron's jumpsuit, pulling him up out of his chair. “I'm not going to tell you again, watch your language.”
“Hurry the fuck up.” Ron fiddled with a cigarette butt he'd crushed in the ashtray. “I got things to do.”
“Yeah, we know,” Lark said. “Do you remember a girl named Gemma Patterson?”
“Got a light?” Ron asked, putting a fresh cigarette between his cracked lips.
Lacey slipped out and came back with a book of matches. Lark lit his cigarette.
“Now tell me about Gemma Patterson.”
“Fuck, I don't remember any bitch by that name,” Ron said, taking a drag on his cigarette and blowing smoke in Lacey's face. She waved it away without comment.
“You were students at UW together and she went missing three years ago. Do you remember now?” Lacey asked, her voice full of contempt.
Ron began coughing and almost fell out off his chair.
“Do you remember being questioned about Gemma's disappearance?” Lark asked.
“Hell, you're still looking for that dyke bitch?” he asked, laughing.
“What do you mean by dyke bitch?” Lacey asked.
Ron's hands snaked out to touch her hair. Lark grabbed them and slammed them down on the table. “Keep your hands to yourself, Chevsky.”
“I'll bet you don't. I hear you ain't had any in months, maybe years, since your wife kicked off. You fucking
her
now?” he asked, flipping his head in Lacey's direction as he coughed up a wad of yellow phlegm and spit it on the floor. “That why you're so touchy?”
her
now?” he asked, flipping his head in Lacey's direction as he coughed up a wad of yellow phlegm and spit it on the floor. “That why you're so touchy?”
Lacey left to get a box of tissues. When she got back, Ron was sitting quietly at the table and Lark looked like he was ready to explode. She wondered what had transpired between them.
“I'm going to ask you one more time. What do you remember about Gemma Patterson?” Lark asked, his voice barely controlled.
“She was a primo cockteaser, a fucking dyke,” he yelled. “I took her out twice. She was all over me on the dance floor but later wouldn't have anything to do with me. Lesbo bitch.”
“Did you see her up here or in Madison?” Lacey asked.
“One time up here, one time in Madison. Then the bitch wouldn't see me anymore. I guess I was too much man for her. You could probably handle me,” he said, eyeing Lacey. He grabbed his crouch and leered at her, showing a mouth full of grungy teeth.
Lark yelled for Paul to take Ron to his cell.
“She must have rejected him, so in his eyes she was a lesbian,” Lacey said, writing in a small notebook. “I think we should try to get him into detox. He's in bad shape.”
“We'll see if we can get him admitted tonight. He's going to be tons of fun for some poor nurse.”
“I'm sure they're used to drunks.” Lacey stood up. “Let's find Kryjack and get his interview over with so we can get back to the Ransons' for dinner. Do you want to do this with me in or out?”
“I'd rather talk to him alone. If I hear anything that concerns me, I'll pull you in.”
“Fine by me. I'll go take a nap,” Lacey said, ambling into the breakroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Jim appeared in the doorway. “Happy Thanksgiving, Chief. What's up?” he asked as he sauntered into Lark's office.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“Shoot,” Jim said, sitting down.
“Do you remember a woman you went to school with named Gemma Patterson?”
“Of course,” he said, his face an open book. “She was from Minneapolis and getting a degree in business. She and Sandi Waltner and Katey Lowery were great friends, and she came up here several times to stay with one or the other of them for the weekend. She turned up missing, last seen in Eau Claire three or four years ago.”
“Anything else you want to tell me?”
He lost his smile. “What's this about, Chief?”
“Just tell me everything you remember about Gemma Patterson.”
Jim studied Lark's face. It revealed nothing. He shifted in his chair and stared down at his hands folded in his lap. When he looked up, he was as serious as Lark had ever seen him.
“I went out with her twice. She was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. She and I, Dave Banski, and Sandi Waltner went to the Pine View for dinner one Saturday. Later that night we went dancing over at the Town Line. She was a great dancer. When we got back to Waltner's, Sandi and David started necking. Gemma seemed uncomfortable, so we went for a walk on the Waltners' dock. We talked and held hands. I remember kissing her good night. But it was just a friendly kiss.” He sat in silence staring at the wall behind Lark, remembering. “You know how it is when you like someone. I thought about her all the time, arranged ways to see her on campus and asked her out again.” He glanced at Lark, blushing.
“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.
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.
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