Ray and Sue climbed back onto the porch and peered into the window, cautiously at first, and then leaving the cover and moving to the center of the window where they could get the best view of the interior. After removing their winter gloves, they moved to the door, Ray at the right, Sue at the left, both with guns drawn. Ray turned the handle gingerly and pushed the door open with his foot. From an entrance hall, he carefully surveyed the living room and the adjoining kitchen. Sue followed him.
The room was in disarray—furniture scattered, some toppled—showing that there had been a struggle in a space that otherwise appeared neat and carefully ordered. Sue moved to the right and entered the adjoining kitchen.
“In here, Ray,” she called.
Ray carefully walked on the opposite side, peering into a bedroom and bath before he joined Sue in the kitchen. She was kneeling at the side of a body sprawled face down on a white tiled floor. There was a small pool of blood near the head. Sue was carefully checking for a pulse.
“She’s alive,” Sue said. “Let’s get the EMTs in here.”
Sue stayed close to the victim while Ray went out to escort the waiting EMTs in. Then they quickly checked the rest of the house as the EMTs, two young women in dark jumpsuits, quickly secured the victim to a backboard and with the help of the volunteer firefighters carried her to the waiting ambulance.
“How is she?” Sue asked one of the EMTs.
“Blunt force trauma to the head and face. We’ll know more when we get her to the trauma center.”
Ray stayed in the house while Sue retrieved her camera and evidence kit. While she was photographing the scene, Ray went out to talk to Brett Carty and Charles Lagonni. He sent Carty in to observe Sue and provide any assistance that she might need. Then he thanked Lagonni for his help and joined the other two in the house.
“How are you progressing?” Ray asked, standing off to the side.
“I’ve started the process. I’ll come back in daylight and complete the job. Her cell phone seems to be missing. I also want to check the exterior of the house. I’ll have Brett stay here and protect the scene until I get back and finish up.”
“Weapon?” asked Ray.
“Not yet.”
4.
Ray waited in the car as Sue gave the dog a brief walk down the road, away from the scene. Returning to the Jeep, Sue opened Ray’s door and plopped the dog in his lap. Then she marched around the front of the Jeep, climbed into the driver’s seat, and pulled on her seatbelt with one hand as she started the engine with the other.
“He’s a she,” she said, as she turned the jeep around and slowly started down the narrow road. “They get things done without a lot of ritual.”
“I sense there is a message there,” Ray observed.
“Not at all,” Sue responded. “Just a statement of the facts based on careful observation.”
“What am I supposed to do with him?” asked Ray, petting the dog.
“Her. Hold her. She needs to be comforted. She knows something is very wrong.”
Sue slowed as they approached the burned-out hulk of Ben’s Ford.
“My God, it looks like the front of the car was completely crushed before the fire.”
“It was,” said Ray.
“It was a good thing that you were here and could pull Ben from the car.” Sue looked over at Ray, “Where’s your car?”
“I was riding with Ben. He picked me up on the way,” Ray explained.
“You were with Ben? You were in that car?” Sue asked, concern in her voice.
“Yes, like I said.”
“How did I miss that? It never occurred to me. There were so many vehicles by the time I arrived I just assumed…. Are you okay? How did you get out of there?”
“I’ll probably be sore later today or tomorrow. We got banged around pretty good when the plow hit us. The airbags popped, and I could feel the pull of the seatbelt.”
“How many times did the plow ram you?”
“Just once. He was really on the pedal.” Ray explained to Sue how he kicked out the windshield and struggled to free Ben from the car. “He was out cold; must have hit his head, maybe in the initial crash.”
“Shouldn’t we take you to the hospital and have you checked over? You’re still in recovery mode. Getting tossed around like this isn’t what the doctor ordered.”
“I’m okay. I want to get back to the office and question that new person in dispatch, Maggie whatever her name is.”
“It’s Molly, not Maggie.”
“Molly. What do you know about her?” asked Ray as he fished for his cell phone.
“Not much,” said Sue, as she carefully maneuvered down the two-track. “She’s been in a few of my yoga classes. She’s quiet and very pleasant. Her family has had a summer place up here for generations. I think there was a farm in the family way back.”
“What’s her last name?” Ray asked, looking at the face of his phone.
“Birchard, that’s a maiden name. I think she’s been married though.”
“What did she do before she started working for us?” Ray asked.
Sue paused at the end of the two-track and waited for a pickup to pass before pulling onto the highway. “I’m not sure exactly. She’s an artist of some sort, maybe a potter. And I think she was doing art and working in one of those shops in North Bay. I talked to her after her interview. She told me she had to find something steady, something with health insurance. She’s single parenting, got a son, eight or nine. She said she couldn’t afford to be an artist anymore. Not in this economy.”
“Lots of people up here barely make it, even in the best of times.”
They rode in silence for several minutes. Then Ray held up his phone, “Do you have a battery charger for this onboard?”
“Not for that,” said Sue. “I’ve just got the standard issue, not one of those fancy ones.”
“Well the fancy phone is out of juice. Would you call dispatch and ask Molly to stick around after her shift? It sounds like she can give us some background on this victim.”
As Sue made the call, Ray looked out at the snowy landscape in the gray winter dawn. Taking care not to be observed, he put his right hand into his unzipped jacket and felt along the left side of his chest. He had become aware of a dull ache and was beginning to wonder if he had cracked a rib. Probably just a bruise, he thought, unable to pinpoint the source of the pain.
“The weapon, any ideas?” Ray asked, bringing his focus back to the case.
“I wasn’t able to get a clear view of her injuries,” said Sue. “But I would bet something round and heavy, maybe a piece of pipe or a club. There was a lot of anger there. Whoever did this was intent on killing her. ”
“Let’s hope she survives and can identify her assailant. I’d like to get him behind bars fast.”
• • •
A few hours later, Ray was just getting off the phone with the hospital when Sue, carrying the dog under her arm guided Molly into his office. As Ray remembered, she was tall for a woman, at least his height, perhaps taller. Molly had the kind of body Ray’s mother would have called “long-waisted.” Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, a black velvet ribbon holding it in place. Her bright crimson lipstick contrasted with her delicate complexion. A fleece jacket matching her lipstick covered a chambray button-down shirt. Jeans and worn hiking boots completed her ensemble. The up north costume, Ray thought. They settled around the end of the conference table.
Sue started to pour coffee into some heavy, worn mugs. Waving her off, Molly said, “None for me, thanks. I’m coffeed out.”
“We need your help,” started Ray.
“What’s Brenda’s condition?” Molly asked.
Ray studied Molly’s face as he answered, noting her anxiety. “She’s had major trauma to the head. They’re trying to stabilize her. Her condition is extremely grave.”
“Are they going to operate?” she asked.
“They are still assessing her injurie
s and conferring with a neuro unit in Grand Rapids. There’s a question about whether it would be better to fly her there.”
Ray waited, allowing his words to sink in. He watched as Molly’s eyes filled with tears. He pulled a box of tissues from his desktop and slid them toward her.
“We need your help, Molly,” he said after a few moments. “You need to tell us about Brenda. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt her?”
Molly moved around in her chair, pulling her body out of a slouch. She looked at Ray, then at Sue. “Brenda is my best friend. I’ve known her since ninth grade.”
“Was she in trouble? Did she have any enemies?” Ray asked.
“No, no to both questions. Brenda is a wonderful person. I don’t think she has any enemies.”
“How about lovers, current or ex?” Sue asked.
Molly was silent for a long moment, and then answered, “I don’t think so. She didn’t have those kinds of relationships. She didn’t pick that kind of men.”
“Is she in a relationship now?” Sue asked.
“Not in the romantic way.”
“Explain,” prodded Sue.
“It’s someone who’s been in and out of our lives for the last 20 years. We prepped together at Leiston School and were in the same class.”
“Does this someone have a name?” asked Ray.
“He wouldn’t have done this; he’s completely harmless,” Molly answered.
“And his name is?” Ray asked.
“Tristan Laird.”
“Interesting name,” Ray observed. “Where do we find him?”
Molly squirmed; she looked uncomfortable.
“How do we locate him?” Ray asked again, rephrasing his question, his voice firm.
“That’s hard to say.”
“Why?” asked Ray, annoyance showing in his voice.
“It’s just that,” started Molly warily, “he lives in lots of places. He’s got an old trailer off Dead Stream, out in the swamp. Sometimes he stays there. And he’s got a tree house on some family property over near Lake Michigan that he also uses all year. And in the real bad weather he sometimes stays with Brenda for a week or two.”
“Like now?” Sue interrupted.
“Yes, but he sort of comes and goes. You never know about Tristan.”
“Look Molly, we’re trying to find out who did this, and you are being evasive. Do you think Tristan attacked Brenda?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to explain. No, that’s not possible. Tristan just isn’t right. We all look after him. He was injured in a climbing accident years ago, one of those closed head things. He looks normal and makes sense some of the time, but he’s in a different universe. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Sometimes he lives in his trailer, or his tree house, or under a tarp in the deep snow. But the thing you really have to know is that Tristan is harmless. And he’s also sort of paranoid. If he thinks you’re looking for him, he might disappear into the woods for weeks. He’s afraid of police or anyone in authority.”
“You’re suggesting that he might be camping out in this weather?” asked Sue, incredulously.
“Let me explain. After college, before he was injured, he spent years as an Outward Bound instructor. He is absolutely unfazed by the weather.”
“So do you think Tristan was there when Brenda was attacked?” asked Ray.
“I really don’t know. I hope not,” replied Molly.
“You are going to have to help us find him,” said Ray firmly. “How about her family, parents, siblings?”
“Mother lives in Grosse Pointe, she’s a lawyer. Her father was a doctor; he died a couple of years ago. She’s got two brothers, both are docs. They live in Ann Arbor.”
“Molly, I’m going to ask you this question again. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Brenda?” Ray asked.
“No. I’m at a total loss. She was such a kind, generous, giving person. I can’t think of anyone who would want to harm her.”
“How was it that you were texting with Brenda in the middle of the night?” asked Ray.
“I know we’re not supposed to take personal phone calls, but nothing was happening, not for hours. Brenda is a night owl; she often works most of the night and naps during the day. We were just chatting. I won’t get in trouble for this, will I?”
“When you got this message from Brenda, how did you know she wasn’t joking?”
“She wouldn’t joke about something like this. And I texted her that help was on the way. She knew I was treating this as an emergency.”
Ray sat for a moment, lost in thought. “Molly, we are going to have to talk even more. Right now I want you to help Sue with names and phone numbers so we can contact her family. Can you stay and do that?”
“Yes, I’d like to help in any way. I just need to call my mom, she looks after my son when I’m working.”
“Call your mother, and then meet Sue in her office. That will give Sue and me a few minutes to go over a few things. Before you go, could you look after Brenda’s dog?”
“I’d love to, but my son has allergies.”
They waited until Molly had closed the door after her.
“Are you all right?” Sue asked. “You’re looking sort of green.”
Ray didn’t respond to the question. “Molly knows a lot, and she’s not giving anything away. We’re going to have to sit her down and get her to open up. I think she’s a little bit suspicious of us.”
Ray started to pull himself out of his chair. Suddenly he felt very unsteady. Sue slid the dog to the floor, grabbed Ray’s arm, and guided him back to his seat. The world became fuzzy and slowly slipped away.
5.
The next time Ray was fully aware of his surroundings he was being rolled toward the automatic doors of the hospital emergency wing. He was quickly moved into a treatment area, where medics pulled a curtain around his bed, removed his shirt, and applied sensors to his chest. He looked around at the team working over him, men and women in plum scrubs.
“Are you with us?” a middle-aged woman standing at his side asked.
Ray nodded, then said, “Yes.”
“Good. Would you give me your full name, age, and date of birth?”
Ray, looking at her, gave her the information. He could see that she was keying his answers on a notebook computer supported on a small, rolling stand.
“My notes from the EMTs say you were having chest pains. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you having some pain now?” she asked.
“Yes, and I’m feeling dizzy.”
“On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate the pain?”
Before he could answer someone else asked, “We’re going to start an IV. Is that all right?”
Ray nodded toward the voice, then looked into the gray eyes of the woman who asked about the pain. “Five or six. It’s been bothering me for a while. It’s just getting worse.”
“And you were in some kind of accident earlier?”
Ray nodded.
“When was that?”
“About three this morning.”
“And you haven’t been checked for injuries earlier, is that correct?”
Ray nodded. Looking straight up into a large, round light, he could see people moving around him. “The person I was with came in by ambulance. His name is Ben Reilly. I’d like to know how he’s doing.”
“Right now the focus is on you. I want you to chew these baby aspirin. Then we’re going to sit you up briefly and have you wash them down with a few sips of water. Okay?”
Ray followed her directions. He chewed a handful of fruit-flavored aspirin. Then two nurses, one on each side, brought him to a partial sitting position. He was given a sip of water from the small paper cup.
“Swallow it all down,” the first nurse ordered. Then they brought him back flat on the bed.
Saul Feldman, Ray’s internist and close friend, came into view on his right. He felt Saul’s hand squeezing his upper a
rm.
“Aren’t you supposed to be having office hours right now?” Ray asked.
“It’s my day off. Since I can’t play golf in this weather, I thought I would hang around the ER and see who they dragged in.”
“He needs to get a life,” came a second voice.
Ray focused on the person next to Saul. He recognized Hannah Jeffers, the new cardiologist.
“Now what?” asked Ray.
“We’ll do some blood work and tests, keep you under observation, and then see if we can find out what’s going on,” said Saul. “You were in some kind of accident earlier?”
Ray told him about the encounter with the snowplow.
“And you didn’t come in to get checked out?” asked Saul.
“I was feeling fine, and there were things to do. What’s going to happen now?”
“Once I go through a few more things here, I’ll turn you over to Dr. Jeffers,” said Saul. “And when she’s through with you, we’ll find a few other tortures to put you through.”
“I can’t be here all day,” protested Ray. “I’ve got things to do.”
“Today you’re mine,” said Saul. “Think of it as a wellness day. You’ll probably be spending the night with us, too. So get used to it and relax.
• • •
Exhausted and aching, Ray spent the day being rolled around the hospital for one test, then another, including hours in nuclear medicine, having isotopes injected into his bloodstream followed by the imaging of his heart.
Along the way, Saul Feldman found him and provided an update on Ben Reilly’s condition. Ben’s right arm and lower right leg had been casted, and his skull had been scanned to check for cranial bleeding. He was going to be kept in the hospital for a few days for observation.
In the late afternoon Ray was rolled into the room where he was going to spend the night; all he wanted to do was sleep. But before he could doze off a nurse, a slightly built man who appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s, came in and began checking his vitals and explaining each step to a young woman who Ray assumed was a student nurse. Before they were finished, Saul Feldman was at his bedside.
Ray Elkins mystery - 04 - Shelf Ice Page 2
