Authors: K. C. Greenlief
June 6âGradoute House, Ephraim, Wisconsin
Lark walked in the door of Lacey's cottage right on the dot at 7
P.M
. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes but said nothing. He had gotten her out of bed when he'd called her at 6
P.M
. to tell her that the Gradoutes had returned home. Lacey was famished so they ran over to the dining room for a quick dinner while they put their plan together.
While they ate, Lark filled her in on what had transpired while she was asleep. Simon Gradoute did not have a record in Ontario or anywhere else in Canada or the States. He had been questioned in Canada when his sister Celeste was arrested but had not been charged with anything.
Ladeau had questioned Celeste about her brother but she had refused to answer. She was sitting in jail pending extradition back to Wisconsin. They had nothing on Simon but decided to question him based on his sister's possessing the antiques that had been stolen from Door County.
They walked out of the White Gull and into another rainstorm. They sprinted to Lark's Jeep and called Joel. They reached him at the Sister Bay police station and reviewed their plan with him. He was in Sister Bay with Skewski reviewing information the Door County Sheriff's Office had compiled on dark-colored SUVs with gold lettering. They agreed to call him if they got to the point where an arrest of Gradoute was imminent.
The night was black as pitch with the moon obscured by clouds. It looked like every light in the Gradoute house was on when Lark and Lacey came through the trees and caught their first glimpse of the house. The Gradoutes yard lights had an aura of mist around their globes, a testament to the level of moisture in the air. Despite the June night, both Lark and Lacey pulled on their rain jackets. Lacey pulled her hood up over her head in a vain attempt to keep her hair from turning into a frizzy mess.
“No way they can refuse to answer the door with all these lights on,” Lacey said as Lark pushed the doorbell.
“Stranger things have happened,” Lark said, his hand resting on top of his sidearm. He had put on his gun for the first time since his arrival in Door County.
Just as he was about to ring the bell for the second time, Simon opened the door.
“Sheriff, what brings you out to visit us on such a rainy night?” Simon stepped back to let them in. He took their coats and hung them in the entrance closet. “I was just starting a fire in the family room. Why don't you come on back?” He turned and headed down the hall without waiting for their reply.
Lark and Lacey followed him down two hallways to a wood-paneled room at the back of the house. A large stone fireplace stood in a corner alongside a built-in entertainment cabinet. The cabinet doors were open, revealing a large-screen television with the news on.
“Rose, can you pour a couple more glasses of wine?” Simon yelled as he bent down to finish laying the fire.
Lacey and Lark turned around to see Rose standing at the island in the kitchen. She nodded at them and got two more wineglasses from the rack underneath one of the cabinets.
Rose brought a tray with glasses and a bottle of wine into the family room and set it down on the coffee table. “Have a seat.” She motioned to the sofas and sat down in a chair angled to face them. “What brings you out to see us on such a nasty night?”
“I asked them the same thing,” Simon said as he walked over to pour himself a glass of wine. “So far I haven't heard an answer.” He smiled at his wife before he went back over to put two more logs on the fire.
“Simon, we'd like to talk with you about your sister,” Lacey said, watching him for a response. She thought she saw his back stiffen.
“Which one of my sisters? I have three.” Simon turned around, his back to the roaring fire.
“Celeste.”
“What has she done now?” Rose frowned and shook her head. “That girl is always into something.”
“She was arrested in New Orleans.”
“What for this time?” Rose asked, flashing an angry look at Simon.
“Possession of stolen goods with the intent to sell,” Lacey said, her eyes on Simon's face.
“She didn't do it.”
“That's what you always say.” Rose waved her finger at Simon. “This time we aren't going to put up her bail! She needs to learn a lesson from this or she'll never stop.”
“Shut up, Rose.”
“Have you heard from your sister?” Lacey asked.
“Not in several months.” Simon stepped a few feet away from the fire but didn't sit down.
“We don't take her calls anymore,” Rose said. “Lately she only gets in touch when she needs Simon to help her out of some scrape she's gotten herself into.”
“It took us a while to figure out the two of you were related.” Lacey noted the angry look Simon shot at Rose. “She was using an alias.”
“Maybe she called here under her alias and that's why I didn't recognize her.” Rose's voice dripped with sarcasm. “What name is she using now?”
Lacey flipped back through her notebook. “Aimee Longet in New Orleans, Katarina Farrell in Seattle, Lee Johnson in Portland, and Cynthia Whelan in San Francisco.”
“She has been arrested in all those places for theft?” Rose asked.
“Only in New Orleans so far, but she's sold stolen goods in all those places.” Lacey watched Simon's face for a reaction.
“What has she been stealing?” Rose asked.
“Antiques.”
“What kind of antiques?” Rose asked.
“Antiques that match the list of the ones stolen up here in Door County,” Lacey replied.
“Has she been up here without me knowing about it?” Rose barely contained her anger.
“Not to my knowledge.” Simon's face was grim. His wineglass seemed frozen in his hand. He had taken only one sip from it since he had poured it.
“She must have been if she's stolen all those antiques. She'd never have come up here and not seen you.” Rose's eyes narrowed. “After all, you are her favorite.”
“I said I haven't seen her,” Simon yelled.
“I don't believe you,” Rose yelled back.
“I haven't seen her because she hasn't been up here. I'm sure the cops have this all screwed up. There's got to be some mistake.”
“There's
always
some mistake where Celeste is concerned.” Rose slammed her wineglass down on the coffee table. Wine sloshed over the edge onto the tabletop.
“Celeste had to have help with this large a theft,” Lacey said.
“I told you, she hasn't been up here.” Simon's voice was cold as ice.
Lacey went on as if he hadn't spoken. “Someone told her what houses were vacant. We know some of them were accessed from the water, so she had to rent a boat, or have access to one. She also had to have a place to store what she stole.”
Rose glared at Simon, her face incredulous. “Did you know about this? Did you know your sister was up here robbing our friends and neighbors blind? Did you know she stole from my sister?” She stood up and backed toward the kitchen. “Oh my God, is she the one who nearly killed Daisy?”
“Of course not. Calm down. Celeste would never hurt anyone.”
Rose got up from the sofa and walked over to Simon. She stared into his eyes. “If I find out that you or your sister had anything, anything at all, to do with Daisy's shooting, I will make sure you regret it every day for the rest of your life.” Her voice sent a chill up Lacey's spine. Rose stalked into the kitchen and turned her back to them.
“How did the antiques that were stolen here in Door County get into her possession?” Lacey asked. “Either she stole them or someone else did it and got them to her to sell.”
“This has to be a mistake,” Simon said.
“It isn't.”
“Those antiques aren't one of a kind.” Simon paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “There are many other pieces of pottery and carnival glass just like what was stolen.”
“She was in possession of a very rare Noah's Ark set that was stolen from a home on Washington Island.” Lacey watched Simon's face. “It's one of a kind. She had four Civil War swords that are identical to the ones that were stolen from homes up here. Every antique she sold matches the ones from robberies here in Door County, and we know she had to have help. Someone on the inside here.”
“This is preposterous,” Simon said.
The shrill ring of the telephone cut through the tension in the room. No one moved or spoke until the second ring. Rose went to answer the phone but Simon strode past her and picked it up. He mumbled into the receiver a few times and hung up.
“I've got to get to the restaurant. The place is hopping and the staff are having trouble keeping up.”
“That will have to wait until we're finished here,” Lacey said.
“I'm done talking with you,” Simon interrupted. “If you have anything else to say, you can talk with my attorney.” He walked out of the family room.
Lark and Lacey excused themselves from Rose and headed for the door. Simon's taillights were just vanishing into the woods when they got into Lark's SUV. He called the sheriff's office and asked them to have Sheriff Skewski call them as soon as possible.
“He's never going to confess,” Lark said as he sped up to keep Simon's car in view. “We'll have to try and get an arrest warrant.”
“Do you think we have enough with Celeste's arrest?”
“Not unless we can tie him to Celeste or to the robberies.” Lark pulled onto Highway 42. “Maybe someone saw them together when she was up here.
“What if he's the thief and she never set foot in Door County?” Lacey asked, not taking her eyes off the Simon's taillights.
Lark glanced over at her. “Such cheerful thoughts. If we can't link them together up here, then we'd better hope and pray his sister wants to cut a deal for a reduced sentence. Otherwise, our buddy up there could go scot-free.”
Lark's cell phone rang. It was Sheriff Skewski calling them back. Lacey told him about the interview and asked if he could meet them at Rosemary's Bistro so they could finish their questioning of Simon. Skewski told them he and Joel were headed out the door and would be there right behind them.
“What the hell,” Lark said as they watched Simon's car veer into the drive leading to the Ephraim Marina. Simon pulled into the first parking space he came to. He got out of his car and sprinted to the dock. Lark whipped his car into a handicapped parking space in front of the dock house as Lacey called the sheriff's office. Skewski had already left the station so she left a message telling them to have the sheriff come to the marina.
Lark and Lacey stepped out of the car and into pouring rain. It pelted them sideways as they chased Simon. When Simon got to the end of the dock, he turned around to face them. One of the dock lights glinted off something metallic in his right hand. Before Lark could react, Simon fired four shots at them. Lark heard a scream. He pulled his weapon as he looked over his shoulder and saw Lacey crumpled on the dock. As he ran back to her, he fired two shots at Simon. He heard Simon scream but saw him jump in the boat at the end of the pier and begin casting off lines.
Lark knelt at Lacey's side. She had rolled up into a ball and was writhing around on the dock. “Oh my God,” he said as he turned her over on her back and saw blood seeping through a hole in her jacket. He tore her jacket open and saw the bloody entry wound in her left shoulder.
“My gut feels like it's on fire,” Lacey cried out as she tucked her hands into her abdomen and tried to roll back into a fetal position.
“Let me take a look.” Lark forced her over on her back and pulled her hands away from her abdomen. They came away covered in blood. Lark found an entrance wound in the left side of her belly. “Shit, Lacey, I've got to get pressure on your shoulder and belly so we can get this bleeding slowed down.”
Lacey moaned and pulled her legs up toward her stomach trying to get into a position that would reduce some of her pain.
As Lark stripped off his jacket, he heard an engine turn over and looked up to see the lights of a boat leaving the dock. He took off his shirt and shoved it up against Lacey's shoulder wound. He wadded his jacket into the wound in her abdomen.
Lacey screamed and tried to roll away when he put pressure on her belly. He shouted her name but she continued to writhe underneath his hands.
“Hurts,” she cried out as she tried to get away from him. “Please don't hurt me.”
“Lacey, I've got to hold pressure here so you won't bleed out,” he yelled. Her body relaxed and he realized she had passed out.
He could feel her breathing and he prayed he hadn't done something that was causing her more damage than the loss of blood. It seemed like forever before he heard a car screech into the parking lot. He glanced up to see the flashing lights of the sheriff's cruiser.
“Lacey's been shot twice,” Lark yelled as Skewski and Joel got out of the car and ran up the dock, their flashlights bobbing psychedelically in the rain. Lark barked out orders to them without taking his eyes off Lacey. “One of you go call an ambulance and Door County Memorial to see where Gene Boskirk is. Call the Coast Guard and tell them that Simon Gradoute just left the Ephraim dock on a big boat. He's headed straight out of the bay into the lake. I got off two rounds and heard him scream before he got in the boat, so I think he's hit.”
The sheriff took off.
Joel knelt down at Lacey's head. He held pressure to the wound in Lacey's shoulder. “What the hell happened?”
“We questioned Simon Gradoute about the robberies. He got a call from his restaurant and cut off the questioning to go help out at Rosemary's. We followed him when he left the house. Instead of going to the restaurant he pulled in here and ran down to the dock. He took four shots at us when we followed him.”
Joel took off his jacket and stuffed it up against Lark's blood-soaked shirt. As he bore down on her shoulder, she screamed with pain and arched her head back to get away from him.