Death at the Door

by K. C. Greenlief

  Everyone offered to stay with Lacey, but she told them she just wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Ann and John decided to get pizza and rent a movie. Russ, Joel, and Lark were tired of going out to eat. They agreed to meet at Lark’s suite at 8 P.M. to watch a ball game. Russ agreed to bring the pizza and Joel was assigned to bring the beer.

  Saturday Evening

  June 2—Edgewater Resort, Ephraim, Wisconsin

  Joel and Russ showed up right on the dot at 8 P.M. Their pizza and beer combined with the bag of munchies Lacey had insisted Lark take with him when he left gave them a feast for the gods. They settled in to watch a Cubs game and talk about the case.

  “I had a response from another auction house when I checked my e-mail tonight,” Russ told them. “It looks like Sabatini Fine Antique Sales in San Francisco sold several of the carnival glass pieces as well as some of the other glass and pottery at one of their estate auctions in late March. All the items were produced in quantity, but they are rare enough that seventy-six pieces from our list in one auction from one seller can’t be a coincidence. They were put up for auction by a woman who was selling items from her deceased grandmother’s estate. Our thieves cleared $322,450 at this one auction. That makes about forty percent of the stuff on the list is now sold with a take of over eight hundred thousand. I sent them an e-mail requesting more information. I should have something back by Monday, maybe even tomorrow if they’re open on Sunday.”

  “Damnation.” Joel shook his head. “I just can’t figure out how someone can get in and out of this many houses sight unseen and not leave a trace.”

  Lark took a sip of his beer. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and it wouldn’t be that hard to do if you knew a lot about antiques and also knew the area. This guy is smart and his partner knows the auction house game. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this.”

  “Antique theft isn’t that uncommon so he probably has done it before,” Russ said. “If he lives up here, he hasn’t been caught at it or we’d have already found him with our background checks.”

  “We’ve still got the two housekeepers who have worked for all three cleaning agencies to check out,” Joel said. “I have to get that done for Lacey tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Lark said.

  “I’ll be working,” Joel said. “I’ve still got four people to interview on the Paul Larsen list.”

  “The people you need to question probably won’t be working,” Lark said.

  “All the better to find them and get their interview over with. Shit!”

  Russ and Lark jumped when Joel yelled.

  “I’ve got to be at the nursing home at eight A.M. to interview Minevra Larsen with Skewski.” Joel’s cell phone rang and he went outside to talk to his wife.

  He came back inside fifteen minutes later. “This case is going to be the death of me or my marriage, I’m not sure which.”

  “What’s going on?” Lark asked.

  “Could you do that interview with Skewski tomorrow morning? I really need to spend the day at home with Molly and the kids. The rest of the interviews can wait another day.”

  “Give me directions and I’ll be there. I can also knock off a couple of your interviews if you leave me the addresses and phone numbers.” Lark got up to grab the phone. “I’ll call John and cancel our golf game.”

  “Ah, I think you should call them in the morning,” Joel said. “They just turned out their lights and I think they have other things on their mind.” Russ and Lark gave him a curious look.

  “I was out on the deck talking to Molly. Ann and John left their kitchen window open, so there wasn’t much left to the imagination.”

  Lark put the phone back down. “Thanks, Joel. There’s an image I didn’t need or want.”

  Joel shrugged and gave Lark written instructions to the nursing home. “Lacey has the information on the rest of the interviews. You can get it from her tomorrow if you decide you want to do them. Whatever you do, don’t let her take any of them. She has to see Gene on Monday before she’s cleared to go back to work.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of letting her do any work tomorrow.”

  “I’m driving to Wausau tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow and go to Larsen’s funeral on Monday. Call me on my cell phone if anything new turns up.”

  Russ and Lark settled in to watch the last inning of the game.

  “I really admire how Joel keeps it all together,” Russ said. “I tried it three times and couldn’t make it work.”

  “Molly and Joel are devoted to each other and their kids. No matter what he says, I don’t think anything could come between them.”

  “What’s the story with you and Lacey?” Russ asked.

  Lark crossed his arms over his chest and watched the ball game as if he hadn’t heard Russ’s question. He spoke just as Russ was getting ready to ask him again. “We’re friends and colleagues.” He turned to face Russ, his eyes boring into him. “Why do you ask?”

  Russ stared back, meeting Lark’s eyes. “If you two are dating, I don’t want to cut in.”

  Lark turned back to the ball game.

  “Are you two seeing each other?”

  “No.”

  “Did you go out in the past?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m going to ask her out.”

  “It’s a free country,” Lark replied, his lips compressed into a thin line.

  Russ left as soon as the game was over.

  Lark cleaned up his kitchen and went to bed. He set his alarm for 6:30 A.M. and turned out his light. He tossed and turned most of the night as images of Lacey and Russ flashed through his head.

  Sunday Morning

  June 3—Edgewater Resort, Ephraim, Wisconsin

  The phone rang twice. Ann rolled over in bed half-asleep. Her arm swept the nightstand for the phone, thinking it was work calling. The phone quit ringing but she was half-awake and unable to go back to sleep thinking someone from the hospital was trying to get ahold of her. She stumbled out of bed and, as her surroundings came into view, realized she was in a hotel room and remembered she was on vacation. She staggered out into the living room and caught sight of Lark and John sitting at the bar. Lark, deep in conversation on the phone, did not see her, thank God. She went back into the bathroom, pulled on her robe, and combed her hair into some semblance of order. By the time she went back to the kitchen, Lark was off the phone and standing at the door of the condo.

  “Who called?” she asked as she walked past them and got a diet Coke out of the refrigerator.

  “Ann, I’m so sorry that phone call woke you up,” Lark said.

  “Who was on the phone?” she asked after enjoying her first sip of soda.

  “Joel. He was reminding me about my interview at the nursing home this morning. He called here when he couldn’t get me in my suit.”

  “Nursing home.” Ann yawned. “You all really are desperate if you think someone in a nursing home murdered Paul Larsen or pulled off these burglaries.”

  “It’s nothing like that. Skewski and I are going to interview Minevra Larsen. I should have called you last night but your lights were already out when Joel asked me to do this and I didn’t want to disturb you.” Lark turned to John. “As I was saying, I apologize for running out on our golf game again. Maybe you and Ann can go instead.”

  Ann sucked soda up through her nose. “Uh, don’t look this way,” she choked out. “I’ve made a midyear resolution to never play golf again. We’ll have to think of something else to do.”

  Lark caught the grin that passed between them and headed for the door before he conjured up images he didn’t want in his head. It was sometimes painful to watch their togetherness.

  Sunday Morning

  June 3—Bay Haven Nursing Home,

  Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin

  Lark thought about how routine the trip down to Sturgeon Bay was becoming as he drove south on Highway 42. He ran into a rainstorm ten miles outside of Sturgeon
Bay and marveled at how the weather could turn on a dime on the peninsula. He sat in the lobby of the nursing home for ten minutes before Skewski walked in the door. That gave him ample time to make some decisions about his life. Despite the bright and cheerful sailboat theme of the nursing home, he decided that he would probably shoot himself before he would go to one. Of course if he was confused, he decided he might not know the difference. Ray Skewski’s arrival ended his morbid thoughts on old age.

  A secretary showed them to Minevra Larsen’s room. She cautioned them that although Minevra had been told several times about her grandson’s death, she had not acknowledged it and did not seem to remember it from one minute to the next.

  Lark and Skewski found her sitting up in a chair beside the window. She was a tiny woman and looked even smaller because of the slumped position her dowager hump forced her into. She seemed to shrink into her long, dark blue robe and slippers. Her white hair was still thick and piled up on top of her head. She smiled when they entered and her face reminded Joel of one of those wizened-apple dolls. Her pale blue eyes appeared quite large through the gold-rimmed, Coke-bottle-thick glasses she had perched on her nose. The lenses made it easy to spot the sparkle in her eyes. She looked every day and then some of her eighty-six years.

  She held out her hand and squeezed each one of theirs gently. Lark noticed that the bones in her hand felt as fragile as a bird’s wing. “The nurse said that my grandson sent you two boys to see me.” She looked at them expectantly.

  “He asked us to talk with you about the letters in your safety-deposit box from Mr. Williams,” Skewski said.

  She shook her head and frowned down at her lap. “Paul wasn’t supposed to get into that box until after I’m dead.” She glanced up at them. “That boy never could keep a secret. I should have known better than to tell him about the box. I should have just had my lawyer deal with it after I died. Of course he’s dead now too.”

  “Did you ever discuss Mr. Williams’s letters with Paul?” Ray asked.

  “You want to know if Paul knew that Joshua was his grandfather?”

  “Yes,” Lark said.

  “We never talked about it.”

  “Did the DuBois girls know they were related to Paul?” Ray asked.

  “Heavens no. It would have killed them to know that their precious grandfather had an affair with the hired help. Hyacinth was mighty stuck on herself and her position in society.” Minevra strung society out to its full four syllables. “Camellia was such a sweet little girl, but she didn’t turn out much better than her mother. She married that poor Robert DuBois and dragged him around like he had a ring in his nose. Those girls were always pretty and they knew how to get a man. They just didn’t want much to do with them after they got a ring on their finger and a baby in the nursery.”

  “Joshua never asked Hyacinth for a divorce?” Lark asked.

  A smile creased Minevra’s face. “Joshua never really wanted to divorce her. He just didn’t want me telling her about the baby. Truth be told, I wasn’t much interested in marrying him either. Hyacinth would have made my life pure hell if I’d busted up their marriage.”

  “You wrote in one of your letters that you saw a barrel of glass being taken up to the attic,” Lark said.

  “Iris’s brother and my uncle Ludwig liked to never got that thing upstairs.” She smiled, her eyes far away. “It was awful when they drowned. My mother and Iris cried for days after they finally quit looking for their bodies.”

  “Do you know who removed the glass from the attic?” Lark asked.

  Her eyes became wary. “All but a few pieces should still be there unless someone took them.”

  “They’re turning the house into a bed-and-breakfast and the attic has been gutted. No one has found the barrel,” Lark said.

  “I can’t believe Paul would ever let them make it a bed-and-breakfast.” Her hands began to flutter around in her lap. Her eyes darted around the room. “Where is Paul? Why didn’t he come with you? What are you two doing in my room?” Someone walked past the room and she waved her hands and yelled at them for help.

  The nurse came and in shooed Lark and Ray out of the room.

  “That was productive,” Ray said as the walked to their cars.

  “Do you think she was faking it when she suddenly got confused?” Lark asked.

  Ray took off his ball cap and scratched his head. “It did seem sudden, but I just find it hard to believe Minnie would be that devious. She was quite a looker right into her fifties. I can see why old Josh would have had an affair with her. Hyacinth always struck me as being colder than the polar ice cap.”

  With nothing else to do in Sturgeon Bay, Lark drove to Fish Creek to check up on Lacey.

  Sunday Morning

  June 3—White Gull Inn, Fish Creek, Wisconsin

  Lark called Lacey just before he got into Fish Creek. He wanted to stop by and make sure she was all right. He also wanted to get the names and telephone numbers of the people Joel still had to interview. When Lacey didn’t answer her phone, he got worried. He knew she was either very sick or out doing something she shouldn’t be doing. If she was too sick to answer the phone, she needed help. If she was out doing something, he was going to give her a piece of his mind. He made good time until he got to the town limits of Fish Creek. He was then slowed to a snail’s pace by cars creeping along to check out the sights.

  No parking was available when he got to the White Gull Inn. He fumed as he drove up and down until someone finally vacated a spot. He whipped his Jeep into the parking place and trotted to Lacey’s cottage. The door was standing open when he got there. He burst inside and scared the maid to death.

  “Where’s Lacey?” he asked, forcing himself to control his voice.

  “She went to lunch with a friend,” the woman said. “She’s feeling much better this morning. If she didn’t have that bruise on the side of her head, you wouldn’t know anything had happened to her.”

  “Do you know where they went?” Lark paced the living room.

  “They went to the dining room. Is something wrong?” the woman asked, taking a few steps back from Lark.

  He stopped pacing, concerned about the woman’s reaction to him. He gave her one of his most dazzling smiles. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I tried to call Lacey a while ago and I got worried when she didn’t answer the phone. It concerned me even more when I found out she wasn’t here. She’s not supposed to be doing anything until she sees her doctor tomorrow morning.”

  She relaxed and smiled back at him. “Go on over to the dining room. Seeing how she looks this morning will make you feel better.”

  Lark walked to the restaurant seeing red that Lacey had gone to breakfast with that lech Russ O’Flaherty. The bastard sure hadn’t wasted any time moving in on her. His conscience told him he had done this to himself, which pissed him off even more. He walked into the packed dining room and scanned the tables. Lacey was nowhere in sight. He talked with one of the waiters, who led him to the back room. He was stunned by what he saw. He didn’t know what to do. She was sitting at a table near the back wall laughing and talking with Gene Boskirk. Empty plates sat in front of them and a credit card lay at the edge of the table near Gene.

  Lacey glanced up and saw Lark standing in the doorway. Her face lit up in a smile and she waved him back to their table.

  “Joel called last night to let me know he was going back to Wausau for the night. He said you might be stopping by to get the names of people we still need to interview.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Lark studied her face. He wasn’t sure how much of the improvement in her color was due to her recovery and how much was due to her artful application of makeup. The maid was right, even the bruise on the side of her face looked better.

  The waitress cleared their table, picked up Gene’s credit card, and placed a menu in front of Lark. She was gone before he could give it back to her.

  “Why don’t you have some breakfast and then
we’ll go get that list,” Lacey said.

  Lark was hungry and decided to go ahead and order something. Once he’d figured out what he wanted, he put his menu down on the table and fixed his eyes on Gene. “I thought Lacey had to be on bed rest until Monday morning. How come she’s out eating breakfast this morning?”

  “For crying out loud,” Lacey said.

  Gene held up his hand to stop her tirade. He turned his eyes back to Lark “That’s a legitimate question. I stopped to check up on her this morning. Probably for the same reason you did.”

  Lark nodded.

  “She was going stir-crazy. Her nausea was gone and she was starving. She’s still got her headache, but as long as she takes her pain meds for a few more days and doesn’t drink and drive with them on board, she should be fine.” Gene glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got to go make rounds so I can get back to the cottage. My kids are coming up to spend the next couple of days with me.”

  The waitress brought Gene’s credit card slip for him to sign and took Lark’s breakfast order.

  “How’s Sophie?” Lark asked as Gene got up to leave.

  Gene shook his head. “Look, I’m really sorry about the other night.”

  Lark waved off his apology. “Sophie and I hadn’t seen each other in years until a few nights before that. It meant nothing to me. I just want to know what she’s up to.”

  “Haven’t you been watching TV?” Gene asked.

  “Nothing but ESPN.”

  Gene nodded and sat back down. “WKZ sent a film crew up here and she’s been doing a series on crime in Door County. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to interview you.”

  “She knows better.”

  “She’s really going after this story. She spent Friday at the courthouse and at the Door County Ledger office.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Lacey said. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”