Death's Door Read online

Page 11


  We drove past Peninsula State Park and the bottom of the bay and turned up the hill of the drive into Aunt Rose’s rustic inn in Ephraim. The cat, Amelie, was lying in the sun on the porch railing. As we were walking up the porch steps, Maxine came out to see who had arrived. After hugs, I left her with Rosie and went to find Aunt Rose. At five o’clock, the kitchen was the best bet.

  “Are there two spots available for dinner?” I asked from the doorway to the kitchen which was filled with the aroma of a roast in the oven. A cherry pie sat on the counter.

  Rose turned with a big smile, set down the wooden spoon she was stirring something with, and put her arms around me.

  “You’ve been away too long, Spencer. I’m glad you’re here. I’m so sorry about Stosh. I won’t ask how you’re holding up. If there’s ever anything I can do.”

  “You already do, Aunt Rose.” After my folks died, I had often thought that she was all I had left if Stosh was gone, and vice versa. I knew she realized that too. There were a few other aunts and uncles, but no one I was very close to.

  She took my hand. “And how is Rosie taking it?”

  “She’s trying, but it’s certainly hard.”

  She patted my hand. “Well, I’m glad you two have this time together to support each other.”

  I was too.

  She pushed her chair back and stood. “Dinner isn’t going to fix itself. You go say hi to Maxine. You can tell us all about this little adventure of yours at dinner.”

  An hour later, we were all sitting around the round wooden table in the dining room. Every time I sat at this table I remembered sitting quietly as a kid, waiting patiently for food to be passed and listening to the grown-up conversation. Now I had the conversation everyone wanted to hear as Aunt Rose and Maxine wanted to know about Stosh’s murderer and why Rosie and I were in Wisconsin.

  They listened, enthralled, to our story about the adoption agency and had just as many questions as we did. There were a lot of pieces that didn’t fit together yet. And they were both amazed that there had been no progress on Stosh’s killer.

  As the cherry pie was cut, conversation turned to the inn and the current business problem… it was too good. They were booked up almost solid, and the summer season hadn’t yet started. Aunt Rose and I had often discussed the problem of hiring a full-time person versus the high school and college kids she used during the summer. Hiring Maxine had taken no thought; she was replacing someone who had retired. But adding someone else meant a large addition to the payroll.

  Rose had decided the extra business would more than cover the extra person, and they had started looking. But the two they had interviewed so far didn’t seem serious enough about wanting the job, and neither Rose nor Maxine had felt comfortable with them. As Rose explained, “They just didn’t seem like people people.” And it seemed logical to me that if you’re working with people… well...

  Rosie gave me a quick glance and joined the conversation. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person, Rose.”

  Aunt Rose shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll certainly not find someone as good as Maxine.”

  Rosie laughed. “Well, maybe Spencer should do your interviewing.”

  Rose brightened with “Maybe he should!” and looked at me.

  “Maybe he has,” said Rosie.

  With a perplexed look, Rose asked, “What does that mean?”

  Rosie shrugged with a smile. “Just woman’s intuition. By the way, do you know who bought the cottage next to Spencer on the bay?”

  “I had heard it was sold, but I don’t know to who. I’m sure it’s someone wonderful.”

  There wasn’t a pessimistic bone in Aunt Rose’s body. Rosie said she hoped so.

  It was after ten when we finally got everything cleaned up and got hugs with lots of thanks for a wonderful dinner.

  ***

  The moon wasn’t up yet, so the drive across the peninsula to Moonlight Bay was dark. We didn’t pass any cars until we got to Baileys Harbor. It was even darker when I turned onto Highway Q and followed its snaking path through the woods. I looked at Rosie as we turned into the forest, and her eyes were closed. They opened as I pulled into my drive.

  She opened her eyes wide and stretched. “Look, Spencer, your neighbor has arrived.”

  Parked next to the neighboring cottage was a dark-colored Ford sedan. There were no lights on in the cottage.

  Rosie opened her door. “I guess we’ll find out who these wonderful people are pretty soon,” she said.

  “I guess we will,” I said without much energy.

  “Aren’t you interested?”

  I smiled and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

  She got out and closed her door quietly. “You’re no fun.”

  I tried to look hurt.

  She took my arm and asked what time the moon came up.

  “Not ‘til after midnight.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Man’s intuition.” When she gave me a perplexed look I explained that the moon is in the same spot forty minutes later every night, so it was pretty easy to predict.

  “Well, then I’m going to bed,” she said.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Chapter 19

  I was up by six Saturday morning, reading on the deck, when Rosie wandered out at a little after eight.

  “Well hi, sleepyhead.”

  She sat on the deck and put her head in my lap, still half asleep. I put my hand on her shoulder and asked if she was hungry.

  “I am, but I don’t know why I’m so tired. I got plenty of sleep.”

  “You just needed to catch up. What do you have a taste for?”

  Looking up at me, she said, “Someone else’s cooking. Let’s go into town. I’ll buy.”

  “No argument here.” But she didn’t move.

  “The bay is so beautiful, Spencer. Sarah would love it here. I feel badly that she has to live in the city.”

  “Yes, she would.”

  We listened to the sounds of the birds and the wind in the trees for a few minutes, and then she got dressed and we headed out. I recommended the Sandpiper, just a little south of Baileys Harbor. Located on a golf course, they gave the more famous Al Johnson’s on the bay side of the county a run for their money, and it wasn’t as crowded. They didn’t have goats on the roof, but the food made up for it. We both ordered strawberry crepes.

  As we sipped coffee, she shook her head and looked awfully sad. “I don’t know if I can face going back to work, Spencer. Walking by Stosh’s office and knowing…” She looked at me with moist eyes, and I took her hand.

  “I know, Rosie. It’s never easy.”

  We had some laughs telling Stosh stories until the food arrived and then took a walk through the forest. We didn’t get back to the cottage until one, and by then we were hungry again. I suggested brats on the grill.

  “Oh crap. I forgot to get buns,” I said. “Rosie, would you go next door and see if the neighbor has any?”

  “Sure. Gotta meet ‘em sometime.”

  “And invite them for lunch if they haven’t eaten.”

  “Okay, be right back.”

  I watched her through the side window, and when she got to the door I followed. She didn’t see me behind her as the neighbor opened the door. It took her a few seconds before the words came out.

  “Chief Iverson! What are you doing here? Did you buy—?”

  Iverson didn’t get the chance to answer as a voice from the kitchen yelled, “Hey, what the hell? We got no Schlitz! Iverson, I thought you said you were going to get some Schlitz.” He walked into the front room. “How do you expect—?”

  That was all he got out as Rosie ran across the room and threw her arms around his neck. I stood in the doorway smiling.

  “Rosie, let go! You’re getting my shirt wet!”

  She wouldn’t let go.

  “Spencer! Get this woman off of me!”

  When she finally let go she ran to me and pu
shed me hard on the chest. I staggered back and she hit me again with tears streaming down her face and then ran back to Stosh and put her arms around him again. Iverson just stood there with his arms crossed on his chest and a big smile.

  Rosie finally let go and stood with her mouth open, shaking her head. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or angry. I don’t think she could either.

  “Well, somebody better start talking!”

  The three of us looked at each other waiting for someone else to start. Finally, Stosh said, “We got no Schlitz.”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant,” said Rosie.

  I took her hand and led her to the couch as Stosh and Iverson sat on armchairs in front of the picture window.

  Rosie looked at Stosh and broke the silence with, “You’re not dead.” Then she stared at me and said, “But you’re going to be.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rosie, but we couldn’t tell anybody.”

  “Who’s we? How many knew about this?”

  “Just me and the captain and the people at the hospital who obviously needed to know.”

  “And Iverson.”

  “Yes, but not at first. I enlisted him when he showed up at the hospital.”

  She looked at Stosh and started to cry. He went over to her and put his big bear arms around her. The tears fell through her smile. When he let go she wiped her tears on her sleeve and looked perplexed.

  “So, Iverson, you bought this cottage?”

  He laughed. “On a cop’s salary?”

  It only took a few seconds for it to hit her. “Spencer?”

  I just shrugged.

  “Well, I guess you don’t have to worry about loud parties.”

  I laughed.

  She turned to Iverson. “Have you filled him in on what’s going on here?”

  “Nope. I figured I’d leave that up to the two of you. I’ve mostly been listening to him complain.”

  “Back to normal,” I said.

  “Not quite,” Stosh said. “I’ve got a couple new holes.”

  “What happened at the hospital?” Rosie asked. “Spencer said he couldn’t find a pulse.”

  “There was one, but very faint. But the ticker did stop on the table. They say I was dead for about twenty seconds.”

  Iverson smiled. “And here you are bitchin’ about beer. Life is amazing.”

  “Who dreamed up this plan?” Rosie asked.

  “I made the suggestion,” I said. “But the captain made the decision. Remember, we thought at the time we were dealing with the gang. Seemed like a good idea.”

  Now Stosh looked puzzled. “At the time? What the hell does that mean? Aren’t we dealing with the gang?”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but maybe not.”

  “Oh good, that clears it up. You care to explain?”

  “Yes, but it’ll take some time.”

  “Time I got plenty of at the moment.”

  I stood. “Let’s start over lunch. Let’s go back to my place for some brats.”

  Everyone agreed.

  As we were walking across the drive, Rosie said, “Hey, wait. We forgot about the buns.”

  “Yes, we did,” I said. “Or we could use the ones in the pantry.”

  She stared at me with her mouth open. “Can I believe anything you say?”

  “Yes, but you have to figure out what.”

  “Fine, that’ll be fun.”

  I got the grill going, and everyone settled on the deck. It would be in the sun for another hour or so. I went inside for the brats and Stosh’s present. His face lit up when I handed him a six pack of Schlitz with a big red bow.

  “Where did you hide that?” Rosie asked.

  I laughed. “In the trunk under a blanket.”

  As I put on the brats the phone rang.

  “Would someone watch the meat?”

  Iverson volunteered.

  It was Detective Springer. “You’re a hard guy to find. Took me three tries to get you,” he said. “You need an answering machine on that car phone of yours.”

  I laughed. “That’s just what I need. It’s too big all by itself.”

  “Are you staying at the cottage now?”

  “Not permanently. We’re here for the weekend.”

  “I heard from Maxwell. They also had paid the two thousand down payment, and they also agreed to the monthly payment... three hundred a month.”

  “Man, I guess people who care about kids are easy marks.”

  “Assuming that’s what’s going on, yes.”

  “Is he still paying?”

  “Nope. He stopped paying when Mary was killed.”

  “Did you tell him about the scam?”

  “No. I’d like to be sure before I accuse someone.”

  “Yeah. But I’d bet my house on it.”

  “I’d bet your house on it too. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Will do.”

  “Coupla more turns,” Iverson said as I walked out with potato salad and chips.

  We chatted about the beautiful day until the food was on the table.

  “So, before I die of suspense,” said Stosh.

  I wasn’t sure how to start. My instructions had been to look in his shoebox after he was dead. Technically, he had been, but now not so much. I took a deep breath.

  “It’s kinda funny if you think about it.” I started in on the brat. “Few things better than a Sheboygan brat.”

  He wasn’t laughing yet.

  “It all started with some envelopes I found in the case under your bed.”

  He almost choked on his brat. After a few coughs, he said, “My case? What the hell!”

  I held up my hands to fend off his outburst.

  “I told you to open that when I died. Do I look like I’m dead?”

  “Well, not so much anymore, but there was that twenty seconds.”

  “So as soon as you heard I was out you headed for the house. You couldn’t wait ‘til I was in the ground?”

  Iverson was enjoying the show.

  “Of course not. But you have to admit you badly taxed my curiosity with your instructions. I always wondered what was so important in that case.”

  “Yeah, curiosity and the cat. Everybody has important documents.”

  “Yes, but not everybody is paying money to an adoption agency for a kid they didn’t get.”

  “That’s what this is about?”

  “It appears to be. At least it started something that looks pretty suspicious.”

  I spooned out more salad.

  He looked at Rosie and Iverson. “Are you both in on this?”

  Rosie answered. “In on this isn’t exactly the right take, but yes, we’re aware of it.”

  He thought for a few seconds as he ate. “I hope you have more beer. What’s suspicious about helping someone out?”

  “Nothing, as far as that goes,” I answered. “But I just had a feeling and decided I had nothing else to do so I’d look into it.”

  “You mean nothing else to do like finding out who shot me?”

  “The captain assured me he had that under control. Have you been talking to him?”

  “Daily. The gang thing seems to be getting nowhere except for the latest theory. Have you heard about the initiation angle?”

  A small motorboat entered the mouth of the bay.

  “Yes. He told me.”

  He turned to Rosie. “You took time off?”

  She nodded.

  I answered. “The captain suggested it. She had time coming, and he thought it would be good for her to get away and help me look into this to take her mind off of things.”

  He nodded. “You obviously didn’t tell her.”

  “I asked the captain. He wanted as few people as possible to know so that people would react normally. It was a tough decision.”

  “I bet. I’m so sorry, Rosie.”

  “It’s okay, Stosh. It was for a good cause.”

  “So, I hear I had a nice funeral.”

  Iverson lifted h
is bottle. “Yeah, the only problem was you didn’t show up.”

  We all lifted our bottles.

  “I’ll do better next time.” He took the last bite of his brat. “So what’s this all about?”

  “Let’s clean up and get comfortable,” I said.

  Chapter 20

  The motorboat docked at the pier of the cottage just west of me, and a man with a fishing pole waved. We moved our chairs into the shade, and I started at the beginning and told him about our plan to pose as parents looking for a baby. We showed him our rings.

  He smiled. “So I had to die to get you two married?”

  “Seemed like a good plan.”

  “So how did that go?”

  I told him about our interview with Peters while he opened another Schlitz.

  “So the only case you have is a woman you don’t like.”

  “Until I went through their files.”

  He almost choked again. “Pardon? You did what?”

  Iverson was smiling again. “I like your boy, Powolski. Sometimes we have to be a little creative, but we try and keep our officers as close to the center line of the road as possible. Manning isn’t even on the road.”

  Stosh sighed and shook his head. “First of all, he’s not my boy. Second, I tell him if I catch him doing something illegal he’ll be in the same jail as the rest of them. You condone this?”

  “What?” Iverson asked. “I haven’t heard anything illegal. Maybe he asked and they let him.”

  “Yeah, and maybe this year Santa Claus’ll come down my chimney.”

  I pointed out that he didn’t have a chimney. The look I got wasn’t supportive.

  Iverson continued after opening another beer. “But you have to admit he gets things done. I condone that. That female detective wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for him.”

  Stosh took a long drink. “I do admit that. But I can’t condone how things happen.”

  “But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?”

  Stosh stared at Iverson and didn’t answer. He turned back to me. “Okay, so files.”

  I leaned back and put my feet up on a bench. “There were three file cabinets. I opened a drawer that was marked ‘Adopting Family’ and found a file with ‘Powolski’ on the tab. Written on the folder under the tab were three more names of couples from Green Bay, Appleton, and St. Charles. Then there was about an inch of space and another name… Victoria Petrace.”