Secret Prey

AND NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT.

She drove to a Rainbow supermarket, looked up Child Protection in the phone book. I dont want to give youmy nameIm a teacher at South High and Im going out of channels herebut theres a student named Connie Bell who has been smoking a great deal of marijuana and Ive heard from another student that she gets it from her mother; and Ive heard that she and her mother have been fighting, and that Connie has been beaten up several times by the men who hang around with her mother. Thank you.

She hung up.

Connie smoked marijuanaHelen had confessed that; she had told Audrey weeks before that shed slapped Connie after an argument over marijuana. There was just enough truth in her call to cause Helen some inconvenience. That was all Audrey needed for now: for Helen to look away from Davenport.

MARCY SHERRILL WAS BANGING ON LUCASS DOOR AT seven oclock. He stumbled out to open up, his hair still a mess from the night, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, one sock on, one sock off; his alarm had gone off ten minutes earlier.

You look terrible, she said cheerfully. I got up early and went for a run.

God will someday strike you dead for that kind of behavior, he said. He was not a morning person. If I could only get the glue out of my eyes.

Quit pissing around; lets get going, Sherrill said. Ill drive. You can sleep, if you want.

He perked up, but just slightly. If you drive, I might survive.

So, Ill drive, she said. Cmon, cmon. Go. He turned back to the bedroom and she slapped him on the butt.

Christ, its like having a coach, he grumbled, but he tried to hurry.

MINNESOTA IS A TALL STATE; AUDREY MCDONALD'S hometown, Oxford, was in the Red River Valley in the northwest corner, on land as flat as the Everglades. They took Lucass Porsche out I-94, Sherrill driving the first twohours, giving it to Lucas, then taking the car back four hours out. Sherrill was a cheerful companion, not given to long stretches of silence. As she chattered away about the landscape, the various road signs and small towns, the river crossings, animals dead on the road, Lucas began to wonder what, exactly, he was doing with her. He began to check her from the corner of his eye, little peeks at her profile, at her face as she talked. Over the years, hed had relationships, longer or shorter, with a number of women, and in the transition zone between them, had often felt ties to the last woman even as the ties to the new woman were forming.

In this case, there were more than simple ties back to Weather. Weather had been something differentthe love of his life, if Elle Kruger wasntwhile Sherrill was much more like the other women hed dated: pretty, smart, interesting, and eventually, moving on.

He wasnt sure that he wanted a relationship with a woman whod be moving on, especially when she really wouldnt be out of sight. Sherrill was a cop, who had a desk right down the hall from his office: even when he wasnt trying to see her, he saw her four or five times a day.

You sighed, she said.

What?

You just sighed.

A lot of shit going on, Lucas said. She patted him on the leg. You worry too much. Its all gonna work out.

They followed the interstate northwest to Fargo, crossed the Red River into North Dakota, took I-29 north past Grand Forks, then recrossed the Red into Minnesota on a state highway to Oxford.

Starting to feel it in my back, Sherrill said to Lucas. Lucas was behind the wheel again. Probably wouldve been more comfortable in my car.

Yeah, Im getting too old for this thing, I need something a little smoother, Lucas said. Good car, though.

Too small for you.

Though youll probably start to shrink a little, as the age comes on. You know, your vertebrae start to collapse, your hair thins out and sits lower on your head, your muscle tone goes…

You go from a 34-C to a 34-long…

Oooh. Thats mean. But I kinda like it, she said.

They passed a sign warning of a reduction of speed limits; Lucas dropped from eighty to sixty as they went past the 45 sign. Past a farm implement dealer with a field of new John Deeres and Bobcats and antique Fords and International Harvesters; past competing Polaris and Yamaha snowmobile dealerships, both in unpainted steel Quonset huts; past a closed Dairy Queen and an open Hardees, past a Christian Revelation church and a SuperAmerica; and then into town, Lucas letting the car roll down to forty-five by the time they got to the 25 sign. Past a redbrick Catholic church and a fieldstone Lutheran church and then a liquor store that may once have been a bank, built of both fieldstone and brick.

Just like Lake fuckin Wobegon, Sherrill said.

No lake, Lucas said. Nothing but dirt.

If I had to live here, Id shoot myself just for the entertainment value, Sherrill said.

Ah, therere lots of good things out here, Lucas said.

Name one.

Lucas thought for a moment. You can see a long way, he said finally, and they both started to laugh. Then Sherrill pointed out the windshield at the left side of the street, to a white arrow-sign that said, Proper CountyOxford Government Center.

The Proper County Courthouse and Oxford City Hall had been combined in a building that resembled a very large Standard Oil stationlow red brick, lots of glass, an oversized nylon American flag, and a large parking lot where a grassy town square may once have been. Lucas spotted three police cruisers at one corner of the parking lot, and headed that way.

Watch your mouth with these people, huh? Lucas said, as they got out of the car.

Like youre Mr. Diplomat.

I try harder when Im out in the countryside, he said. They sometimes resent it when big-city cops show up in their territory.

THE OXFORD POLICE DEPARTMENT WAS A STARKLY utilitarian collection of beige cubicles wedged into a departmental office suite twenty-four feet square. The chiefs office, the only private space in the suite, was at the back; the department itself seemed deserted when Lucas and Sherrill pushed through the outer door.

A fire drill? Sherrill asked.

I dont know. Whats that? An odd, almost musical sound came from the back; they walked back between the small cubicles, and spotted a man in the chiefs private office, hovering over a computer. As they got closer, they could hear the boop-beep-thwack-arrghh of a computer action game. Sherrill gave Lucas an elbow in the ribs, but Lucas pushed her back down the row, walking quietly away. Then: Hello? Anybody home?

The boop-beep-thwack stopped, and a second later a young man with a round face and a short black mustache stepped out of the chiefs office.

Help you folks?

Were looking for the chief of police, or the duty officer…

Im Chief Mason. The young man hitched up his pants when he saw Sherrill, and walked down toward them. Lucas took out his ID and handed it over. Im Deputy Chief Lucas Davenport from Minneapolis, and this is Detective Sherrill…

He explained that they had come up to review documents and interview people who might have any information about the death of George Lamb, Audrey McDonalds father, twenty-four years earlier. The chief, who had been staring almost pensively at Sherrills breasts, started shakinghis head. I been a cop here for four years; nobody in the department has been here more than twelve. Better you should go up and talk to the county clerk, she might be able to point you at some death records or something.

Second floor? Lucas asked.

Yee-up, the chief said.

THE COUNTY CLERK WAS EVEN YOUNGER THAN THE chief, her hair dyed an unsuccessful orange: Okay, twenty-four years. About this time of year, you say?

About this time.

Okay… Were computerizing, you know, but all this old paper is hard to get on-line, she said, as she dug through a file cabinet. Here we go. George Lamb? Here it is.

You got anything in there on an Amelia Lamb? Georges wife? Four years after George?

She went back to the cabinet, dug around, then shook her head. Nothing on an Amelia.

She straightened up, stepped to the counter, pushed a mimeographed form across the counter at them, said to Marcy, I really like your hair, and Marcy said, Thanks. I just got it changed and I was a little worried about doing it… used to be longer.

The death form was filled out on a typewriter, and signed by a Dr. Stephen Landis. Lucas scanned the routine report and asked, Is Dr. Landis still practicing here?

Oh, sure. Hes over at the clinic, right down the street to Main, take a left two blocks.

Marcy looked over Lucass arm: Heart attack?

Thats what it says.

You know, Sheriff Mason wouldve been a deputy back then; I bet he would know about it, the clerk said, reading the file upside down. She tapped a line on the file with her fingertip. This address isnt right in townits out at County Aso they would have been the law enforcement arm involved in a death.

We just talked to aChiefMason, Sherrill said. Theyre not the same guy?

Second cousins, though you could never tell, the clerk said. Sheriff John Masons grandparents on his fathers side, and Chief Bob Masons great-grandparents on his fathers and grandfathers side, are the same people, Chuck and Shirley Mason from Stephen.

Thank you, Lucas said. Where can we find the sheriffs office?

Down the hall all the way to the end.

As they left, Sherrill asked, Are Chuck and Shirley still alive?

Well, sure, the clerk said. Hale and hearty. Course, theyd be down in Arizona right now.

THE SHERIFF WAS OUT, THE RECEPTIONIST SAID, BUT IF it was a matter of importance, hed be happy to come right back. Lucas identified himself, and the receptionists eyebrows went up, and she punched a number in her telephone. A minute later, the phone rang, and she picked it up and said, without preamble, Therere some Minneapolis police officers here, looking for you.

The sheriff was a chunky, weathered man, going bald; he wore an open parka and was carrying a blaze-orange watch cap when he stepped into the office five minutes later.

You want to see me?

Yes, Lucas said. He introduced himself, produced his ID, and mentioned the death of George Lamb.

George Lamb? You mean about a hundred years ago, that George Lamb? The sheriffs voice picked up a hint of wariness.

Twenty-four years, said Lucas.

Come on back, the sheriff said. And to the receptionist: Ruth, go get Jimmy and tell him to come back too.

To Lucas: You folks want some coffee?

Thatd be fine, Lucas said. They were passing a coffeepotin a hallway nook, and Sherrill said, Ill get it. Sheriff? Sugar?

As the sheriff settled behind his desk, and Sherrill brought the coffee, Lucas said, Were sorta digging through the background on Lamb. The county clerk said you were around at the time, I dont know if youd remember it or not.

Yeah, I do. He used to be a mail carrier outa here, he had the rural route. Died of a heart attack. Whyre you looking into that? If I might ask?

Weve got a case going on in the Cities, woman just shot her husband, Lucas said. Shes charged second degree, but that could get dismissed as self-defense. Were looking into all the deaths that have been associated with her, and we found out that both her father and mother died young…

I know the woman, the sheriff said. Audrey. McDonald. Used to be Lamb. Been reading about the case in theStar-Tribune. What the heck is a chief of police doing way up here on a case like that?

Actually, uh, Marcy and I are friends, Lucas said, tipping his head toward Sherrill. We were both working the case, and we sorta wanted to get away for a weekend… and we were sorta curious about Lamb.

The sheriff glanced at Marcy and then back at Lucas, nodded as if everything was suddenly clear. I didnt take the first call on Lamb, but when we got word that somebody out there was dead, I came in, the sheriff said. He spun in his office chair, looking out of the office window toward the back of a line of Main Street stores. This was early in the morning. I mean real early, like four oclock. He was dressed in gray long johns, and he was laying on the kitchen floor. One of the girls had called usAudrey I think, the other one was still pretty youngand the two little girls had their mom out in the living room, and she was sitting on the couch all wailing away. And Lamb was deadern a mackerel. It was his practice to wake up in the morning by breaking a raw egg in a double-shot glass, thenpouring the glass full with rye, and drinking it down. We found him laying on the floor in a puddle of rye, with the egg all over his face. Took him off quick.

Egg and rye. Thatd open your eyes, all right, Sherrill said.

Spose, said the sheriff. Another man, tall, lean as a fence post, ten years older than the sheriff but with a full head of hair, propped himself in the office doorway.

You wanted me?

Yeah, Jimmy, come on in… The sheriff introduced Lucas and Sherrill and said, Theyre checking around about the time George Lamb died down there on A. You remember that?

Yeah. Long time ago. Dont quite see what youd be checking on. Dropped dead of a heart attack.

Was there anything unusual about the circumstances? Lucas asked. Something to make you wonder if it was moren a heart attack?

The sheriff shook his head, and Jimmy scratched his head and said, Well, no. Not really. The population up here is oldern averagenot much to hold the younger people anymoreso we see a lot of heart attacks. Probably once or twice a week we get a call, and a fair number of times, the victim is dead before the ambulance gets there. I probably seen a few hundred of them in my time, and… He shrugged. Soon as I saw him, I thought, Heart.

Shoot, Lucas said. How about the mother? Amelia?

The sheriff shook his head. They left here after George diedsold the place off and moved down to your territory, I think.

Really? Lucas shook his head ruefully. You know, I never asked. I just assumed… Lucas glanced at Marcy, then said to the sheriff, I didnt see a motel coming in. Is there a place we can stay?

The sheriff seemed to relax a half-inch. North out oftown a half-mile, theres the Sugar Beet Inn. Real clean place.

Good enough, Lucas said. They all stood up and Lucas shook with the sheriff and Marcy said, Thanks for the coffee.

And then they were outside and Lucas looked up at the building and said, Thats the goddamnedest thing, huh?

He seemed a little tense, Marcy said.

They oughta be a little tense, Lucas said. Theyre covering something up.

They were at the car, and Marcy looked at him over the roof: All right, you got me. How do you know theyre covering something up?

Because they both remembered the details of a heart attack twenty-four years ago. What he looked like lying on the floor. Gray long johns. The egg-and-rye thing…

I might have remembered that, the egg and rye. Cause its unusual.

Audreys name…

They could have remembered that from reading the paper.

Lucas shook his head: Why? She didnt change it until she married McDonald, eight years after her father died. You think they were tracking her?

Marcy nodded. All right. They remembered too much. What do we do next?

We go over and jack up the doctor.

You notice how Im being the nice little housewife and sweetie pie? Get the coffee, girl-talk about hair, let it pass when you hint to the good sheriff that were up here for a little whoopee?

Its making me nervous, Lucas said. The pressurell start to build. Sooner or later, youll explode.

That could happen, she said.

DR. STEPHEN LANDIS COULDNT SEE THEM UNTIL THE end of his patient day, at four oclock.

You can come right here to the clinic, the nurse said. Four oclock sharp. He has some patient visits to make out in town, starting at four-thirty, so youll have about twenty minutes.

You mean, he actually goes out and visits people? Marcy asked.

Of course.

Amazing.

Back on the street, Lucas looked at his watch: an hour to kill. Lets go see the undertaker, he said.

THE UNDERTAKER WAS A ROLY-POLY YOUNG MAN IN A plaid suit: he didnt remember the case because he was too young. Dad might remember, though, he said. Hes out in the garage…

The senior undertaker was a pleasant fellow, dressed in cotton slacks and a V-necked wool sweater. He was in the back of the mortuarys heated garage, hitting golf balls into a net off an Astroturf pad.

Yep, I remember Mr. Lamb, he said, slipping his fiveiron back into his golf bag. Actually, I dont remember Mr. Lamb as well as I remember the daughter… the older one.

Audrey, Sherrill said.

Dont remember her name. Audrey could be right. I do remember that she handled all the arrangements. Her mother came along, of course, but it was Audrey who settled everything.

Cremation, I understand, Lucas said.

Yes, it was. Quite a bit cheaper, you know. I applaud that, by the way. The family didnt have a great deal of money, and with the breadwinner gone, they had to watch their nickels and dimes. The young woman marched right in the door, said we could forget about a big funeral, they didnt have the money, and she wanted the body cremated. Period. No argument allowed.

Did she pick up the ashes?

Yup. In a cardboard box. She said they didnt need anurn, they were planning to scatter them over the family farm.

Tough kid, Lucas said.

That she was, said the senior undertaker. Never saw a tear from her, except once when the sheriff happened to come by while they were making the arrangements, and then she couldnt stop bawling. That was the only time. He took another iron out of his bag. What do you know about the two-iron?

If only God can hit a one-iron, then itd probably take a prophet to hit the two, Sherrill said.

The senior undertaker looked at her with interest. Youre a golfer.

A little, she said. My husband was a two-handicap.

Was?

He died.

Ah. Thatwillplay hob with your handicap, he said cheerfully. Then, Do you think that young lady Audrey? do you think she might have killed her father?

Lucas looked at Sherrill and then back at the senior undertaker. Why would you ask?

Well, because youre here, obviously. And because there was something very cold and unpleasant about that young girl. It crossed my mind when we were setting up the funeral arrangements that she cared less for her father than she might for a clod of dirt. When she came to pick up the ashesand she drove herself, by the way, and she was too young to have a license, Im sureI watched her from the window when she went back to the car. She opened the car door and tossed the box in the backseat like you might toss an old rag. There was something in the way she did it. I thought at that very moment that the ashes might never make it to the family farm. That they might not make it further than the nearest ditch.

But she was bawling about it, you said.

Oh, and very conveniently, with the sheriff. The senior undertaker shook his head. You see a lot of very strange things in this business, but that has stuck in mymind as one of the strangest. No. Not strange. Frightening. I locked the doors for the next few weeks. I would dream that the little girl was coming for me.

HE DIED OF A HEART ATTACK, DR. STEPHEN LANDIS said. Landis was a roughneck fifty-five, with sparkling gold-rimmed glasses and heavy boots under his jeans. A stuffed mallard, just taking wing, hung from the wall of the reception room, while a nine-pound walleye was mounted over his desk in his private office. Hed been having some problemscardiac insufficiencyand he wouldnt stop drinking or smoking. I told him if he didnt stop, he was gonna have a heart attack. And one day he keeled over. Drink and cigarette in hand.

He was smoking when he went? Sherrill said.

Still had the cigarette between his fingers, Landis said.

But you didnt do an autopsy? Lucas asked.

Landis shrugged. There didnt seem to be a reason to do one. Hed been sick, it seemed apparent that it was the onset of a heart problem. And then he had a heart attack.

Arent you required to do an autopsy when the person didnt die under a doctors immediate care? Sherrill asked.

Not then. Back then, not everything was regulated by the legislature yet. You could use your judgment on occasion.

Did you ever treat Mrs. Lamb? Lucas asked, injecting a slight chill into his voice.

Landiss eyes drifted away from Lucass. I may have seen her a time or two, but the Lambs moved away, you know…

Did you ever treat her for injuries that might have been inflicted by her husband?

No, I didnt. Wellyou probably heard this from somebody else, or you wouldnt be asking the question. There were rumors that George used to knock her around. And I had her in one time, and she had some bruises thatlooked like they might have come from a beating. She said she fell down the stairs. I doubted that, but the bruises were old and

… I let it go. Maybe I shouldnt have, but she wasnt interested in talking about it.

They sat in silence for a moment; then Lucas said, No sign of anything but the symptoms of a heart attack.

Not that I could see.

And you examined the body carefully.

I examined it. Briefly.

No tissue cultures.

No.

You never came to suspect that anything unusual might have led to George Lambs sudden death.

No. He had heart trouble. If anything, I wasexpectinga heart attack.

Outside, Sherrill said, I see what you meananother case of remarkable memory. Lamb had a cigarette between his fingers when he died.

Theres something here, Lucas said, turning to look back at the front of the clinic. I have trouble thinking what it might be.

Maybe shes some kind of town philanthropist and gives them money or something, so they protect her,

Sherrill suggested.

Have you seen her? She doesnt look like shed give a nickel to a starving man. And if it has been that, somebody would have mentioned it.

So what do you want to do?

Lets go check into this motel. Get some dinner.

LUCAS ALWAYS EXPECTED A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF AWKWARDNESS when he and a new woman friend got around a bed, and the room at the Sugar Beet Inn was basically a queen-sized bed, a television set, and bathroom; along with the built-in scent of disinfectant. Sherrill wasnt quite as inhibited: she pulled off her jacket, tossed it on the chair, jumped on the bed, giving it a bounce, then hopped off to check the TV. I wonder if they have dirty movies?

Give me a break, Lucas said. Come on, lets find a restaurant.

Too early. Its barely five oclock. I wanna take a shower and get the road off me, she said. You wanna take a shower?

If we take a shower, well probably wind up on the bed, dealing with sexual issues, he said, injecting a tone of disapproval into his voice. Were here on business.

Quit bustin my balls, Davenport, she said. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head. But if you want to sit out here and wait.. .

I suppose wed save water if we both got in there.

And water is precious out here on the prairie.

Well, I mean, if its for the environment…

THE DESK CLERK AT THE SUGAR BEET TOLD THEM TWO restaurants would be open: Chucks Wagon, a diner, and the Oxford Supper Club, which had a liquor license. They drove down to the supper club and were met at the entrance by a cheerful, overweight woman with hair the same tone of orange as the county clerks, and a frilly apron. She took them to a red-vinyl booth and left them with glasses of water and menus.

That hair color must be a fashion out here. She looks like a pumpkin, Sherrill whispered.

Mmm. Open-face roast beef sandwich with brown gravy, choice of potato, string beans, cheese balls as an appetizer, and pumpkin or mince pie with whipped cream, choice of drink, seven ninety-five, Lucas said.

You ever hear of cholesterol?

Off my case. Im starving.

Lucas ordered a martini, to be followed by the roast beef sandwich; Sherrill got the Traditional Meatloaf with a Miller Lite up front. They ate in easy companionship, talking about the day, talking about cases theyd worked together and what happened to who, afterwards. Touched lightly on Weathers case. Lucas got a Leinenkugels and Sherrill got a second Miller Lite, to go with the pie. They were justfinishing the pie when Lucas felt the khaki pants legs stepping up to the table. He looked up at two sheriffs deputies, two men in their late twenties or thirties, one hard, lanky, the other thicker, like a high school tackle, with the beginning of a gut.

Are you the Porsche outside? asked the one with the gut.

Yeah. Thats us, Lucas said.

So youre the guys from Minneapolis.

Yeah. What can we do for you?

We were just wondering if youre done here, said the lanky one. His voice was curt: his cop voice.

I dont know, Lucas said. He was just as curt. Across the table, Sherrill had swiveled slightly on her butt so that her back was to the wall, and her legs, still curled up, projected toward the deputies. Their attitude was wrong; and other patrons in the restaurant had noticed. We didnt get very far today. We werent getting a lot of cooperation.

We were just talking over at the office about how everybody was cooperating, and you were being pretty damn impolite about it, said Gut.

Not trying to be impolite, Lucas said. Swiveling a bit, as Sherrill had. Were trying to conduct an investigation.

Yeah. I bet you were investigating the hell out of this chick up to the Sugar Beet, Gut said.

Sherrill said, Hey, you… But Lucas held up a peremptory finger to silence her, and she stopped and looked at him; then Lucas said to Gut, Fuck you, you fat hillbilly cocksucker.

Gut looked at the slender man, who stepped back a bit and said, Lets cool this off, but Gut put his fists on the table and leaned toward Lucas and said, If you said that outside, Id drag your ass all over the goddamn parking lot.

Lets go, Lucas said. Im tired of this rinky-dink bullshit.

LUCAS TOSSED A TWENTY ON THE TABLE AND FOLLOWED Gut toward the entrance; the lanky man said, Hey, whoa, whoa, and Sherrill said, Lucas, this is a bad idea…

But six feet outside the door, Gut took a slow, short step, feeling Lucas closing behind him, spun and threw a wild, looping right hand at Lucass head.

Lucas stepped left and hit the heavy man in the nose, staggering him, bringing blood. As Gut turned, bringing his hands up to his face, Lucas hooked him in the left-side short ribs with another right; when Gut pulled his arms down, Lucas hit him in the eye with a left, the other eye with a right, then took the right-side short ribs with a left, then crossed a right to the face. Gut was trying to fall, staggering backward, got his back wedged against a pickup truck, and Lucas beat him like a punching bag, face, face, gut, face, ribs, face, face, like a heavy workout in the gym.

Lucas felt it all flowing out: the frustration with Weather, the attacks on Weather and Elle, the uncertainty, the depression. And heard Sherrill screaming, flicked somebodys arm off his shoulder, was hit from the left and turned, almost punched Sherrill in the forehead, felt another man moving behind him, spun, and saw the lanky man covering Gut, holding his hands in front of him, shouting something. ..

The world began to slow down, and Lucas backed up, hands up, Marcy pushing him, shouting. He could barely hear her. Okay, he said finally, through the roaring in his head. Okay, Im done.

Marcy faded in. Youre done. Are you done?

Im done… He dropped his hands. They were dappled with blood, and blood from Guts nose was sprayed across his shirt. He said, This shirts fucked.

Gut was stretched on the ground next to the pickup running board, groaning, the lanky man leaning over him, saying, Breathe easy. Come on, youre okay.

But he wasnt okay. He said, I cant, I cant, I cant… Every time he tried to sit up, he moaned, holdinghis sides; he was blowing streams of blood from his nose. We better get an ambulance, the lanky man said. Get him over to the clinic.

Can you call from your car? Sherrill asked.

Yeah, I can do that, he said, as if the concept were new to him. He hurried to the squad car, parked at the edge of the lot, pushing through a narrow ring of spectators. As he went, Marcy asked, quietly, Are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, he never touched me, Lucas said.

Thats not what I meant.

He looked at her: Yeah, Im okay. I sorta let it all out, there.

Id say.

The lanky deputy was back, said, The ambulancell be here in a minute. Then to Lucas, I aint gonna try to take you in, cause we all got guns, but youre under arrest.

Bullshit, Lucas said. You two came here to try to push us out of a murder investigation and he took the first swing. If I dont get some answers, Ill get the goddamn BCA up here and well tear a new asshole for your department. You two are gonna be lucky to get out of this with your badges.

Well see, the lanky man said. Why dont you go on down to the courthouse. Im gonna get the sheriff in. And youre not helping around here.

Why dont you just come up to the Sugar Beet, Lucas said. Weve got a big room.

A siren started down in the town, the ambulance. The lanky man looked at Sherrill and then at Lucas. All right. Well see you up there.

THIS IS JUST FUCKIN AWFUL, SHERRILL SAID, ON THE way back to the motel.

The fight? That was odd; shed always been one of the first to get in.

Not the fight. The way the fight turns me on. You could bend me over the front fender right now, in front of allthose people, I swear to God. Whoo. But you sorta hung me up there, dude. I dont think I coulda taken that skinny guy. She was vibrating, talking a hundred miles an hour. Maybe I could have slowed him down. Didnt take you long with the fat guy, thats for sure. Man, if the skinny guy had gone for his gun, though, Idve had to do something, and we coulda wound up with dead people out there. Whoa, what a rush. Man, the fuckin adrenaline is coming on, now. It always comes about ten minutes too late.

Lucas grinned at her: About once a year. It cleans out the system.

Whatre you gonna tell the sheriff? I mean, we could be in some trouble.

Lucas shook his head. Theres something going on. We know it, and now they know we know. I think we might learn something.

JeezI wish I hadnt used you up before dinner. Im serious here, Lucas, I could really use some help.

We might have a couple minutes.

It wont take that long…

THE SHERIFF SHOWED UP A LITTLE MORE THAN AN hour later. Lucas was walking back from the Coke machine with a Diet and a regular Coke, his hair still wet from another shower, when they arrived in two cars; the sheriff, the older deputy named Jimmy, the young, lanky man from the restaurant, all in the sheriffs squad car, and Dr. Stephen Landis in a two-year-old Buick.

Lucas continued to the room, pushed through the door, said, Theyre here.

Sherrill tucked her shirt in: shed been worried the room would smell too much like sex, which she thought would seem perverted so close to the fightwhich Lucas told herwaspervertedso shed turned up the shower full blast, cold water only, and sprayed it against the back wall of the shower stall. Now the room smelled faintly of chlorine, with a hint of feminine underarm deodorant. Were ready, she said, looking around. Put your gun over onthe nightstand. Thatll look nice and grim. Ill keep mine, but Ill let them see it. She was wearing her. 357 in the small of her back.

He nodded: You could be good at this.

She came over and stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. Remember that, she said.

The sheriff knocked a second later. Sherrill opened the door and let them in.

DAMN NEAR KILLED HIM, THE SHERIFF SAID. HE WAS standing in front of the dresser, looking at Lucas, who was sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard. The other three men were standing near the door, while Sherrill stood at the head end of the bed, near Lucas. He could still be in trouble.

Bullshit. I cracked his short ribs and busted his nose. He wont be sneezing for a month or six weeks, thats all, Lucas said.

Thats a fairly clinical judgment, Landis said. You mustve done this before.

Ive had a few fights, Lucas agreed.

In all my time as sheriff, I havent had a man hurt that bad, except one who was in a car accident, the sheriff said. Were talking to the county attorney to see if an arrest would be appropriate. We dont want you going anyplace.

Were leaving tomorrow, I think, Lucas said. But well be available down in Minneapolis. Im gonna talk to a couple of friends over at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, maybe a guy in the attorney generals office. About coming up here and deposing you people on the murder of George Lamb: to ask you why youve been covering it up all these years. Why youd send a couple of cops to roust us, in the middle of a murder investigation that youd been reading about in theStar-Trib.

The sheriff shook his head: We didnt send anybody to roust you. These idiots thought of it themselves. He tippedhis head toward the lanky man, who shrugged and looked at the curtains covering the single window.

The thing is, we can take care of Larry, the older deputy drawled. Cops get beat up from time to time. The real question I gotnot the sheriff, just meis whether you can be talked to. Or if youre just some big-city asshole up here to kick the rubes.

Ive got a cabin outside a town half this size, in Wisconsin. The sheriffs a friend of mine, and hes been bullshitting me about moving up to run for the office when he quits, and Ive thought about it. Ive worked with a halfdozen sheriffs all over this state and Wisconsin, and this is the first time Ive had trouble, Lucas said. You want some references?

Already made some calls, the older man said. After a few seconds silence, he said, You want to talk, or do we do this all legal?

Talk, Lucas said.

The sheriff looked at the older deputy and said, You think?

Yeah, I think.

The sheriff nodded and said, The thing is, we dont know whether or not George Lamb was murdered. But he might have been.

There were some problems at the time, with the way the death happened, the older man said. Happened way too early in the morning. He got up early, for his job, but not in the middle of the night. It looked to us like hed gotten sick the evening before, and theyd let him lay there until he died.

He came to see me twice in the month before he died. He was feeling sicker and sicker, and at first I thought it was the flu. Hed had some diarrhea, hed had some episodes of vomiting, dizzy spells, and so on. Wed had some flu going around at the time, and it fit, Landis said. He pulled a chair out from the dresser/desk and sat down. I gave him some antibiotics for a lung infection hed developednothing serious, he was coughing up some phlegmwith pus in it. And we had an argument the second time he came in, and he never came back. Then he dropped dead. Couldhave been a heart attack.

But you dont really think so, Lucas said.

Landis shook his head. I think maybe it was rat poison. Arsenic. The thing is, when I went out and looked at this body, he had a rash, a particular kind of rash that flakes off the skin when youve been taking in arsenic for a while.

You didnt take any tissue samples?

If wed taken tissue samples, and sent them to a lab, then the fat would be in the fire, Landis said. Other people would know about it. ..

You didnt want other people to know? Sherrill asked. The sheriff took off his hat, smoothed his hair back, and said, My daughter went to high school with the Lamb girls. And the older Lamb girl had a reputation as knowing way too much about sex for a girl her age. Then, a couple of months before George died…

Landis picked it up. The mother brought in the older girl, Audrey, to the clinic. Said shed been fooling around with one of the boys at school, wanted me to keep it quiet, but wanted her tested to see if she was pregnant. She wasnt. But I gave her a little standard lecture that I gave back then, about staying out of trouble, about saying no to boys, about using some protection… She sort of went along with the lecture until she got tired of it, then she got up and left, Landis said. As she was going out the door, she turned andlookedat me. The look was like ninety-five percent hate and fear. And she said, Thats all fine and good, but not relevant in my case.

Not relevant in my case, the sheriff quoted. Hell of a line for a kid that age. The fact is, George had been f He glanced at Sherrill. Having sex with her.

When I told you that his wife had some bruises, Landis said, I was telling you the truth. But not all of it. The woman had been beaten from head to foot.

The whole goddamn house was a reign of terror, the sheriff said. Steve told me what he thought was going on. I talked to the sheriff at the time, Johnny James, and he told me that there was nothing to do, unless somebody complained. So I caught up with George on his mail route one day and said if I ever heard of him screwing that little girl, Id kill him.

Did he believe you?

I dont know, but he should of, cause I would of, the sheriff said. But it never came up, because he dropped dead.

He was lying there on the floor, looking okay, except for this rash, Landis said. We knew hed been screwing at least the older girl, and maybe the younger one too; we knew hed been beating the bejesus out of his wife. So the question was, do we do tissue samples? Didnt have to. No requirement.

Steve came and talked to me, and we said screw it. Leave it alone. And we did. Shipped George off to the funeral home. And that was the end of it, until you showed up this morning.

They all thought about that for a moment; then Lucas rubbed his chin and changed the subject: That fat kid I beat up, he said to the sheriff. Hes gonna be nothing but a pain in the ass for you. Hes gonna be in trouble for the rest of his career.

Hes had a couple problems, the sheriff said.

You oughta get rid of him before its too late. And this guy, Lucas said, nodding at the lanky man. He rode along a little too easily. Hes gotta learn to stand up. He wanted to stop the whole thing, but he couldnt get the job done.

I learned something, the lanky man said.

I hope the hell you have, the sheriff said. To Lucas: What do you think?

I think if you recast exactly what you told me here tonight, youd have a perfectly good story if you ever had to go to court to testify. You know, that you thought it was a heart attack at the timestill think it was possiblebut sometime later worked out that it might have been a poisoning. But by then it was too late, the body had been cremated. That kind of thing happens all the time. Thats why we have exhumations.

You think we might have to testify?

Lucas stood up, yawned, stretched. Were putting together a circumstantial case. So you might have to. But weve got a way to go, before we get anything together.

But her husband… The papers say he was beating her, just like her father beat her mother. It seems to me there might be some justification.

Were looking at eight murders and several ag assaults over the last ten years, including a couple of out-and-out executions of absolutely innocent people, Lucas said.

After a moment of stunned silence, the sheriff said, Eight?

Lucas nodded.

God in heaven.

And Landis stood up and looked at the sheriff and said, Old George did a lot more damage than we knew about. You shoulda killed him.

The older man pushed himself away from the wall. So whatre we going to do about tonight?

Lucas shrugged. Nothing happened to me. If you guys want to say nothing happened, nothing happened.

The sheriff took a quick eye-poll, then nodded to Lucas: Nothing happened.

If we need to talk to you again, an assistant county attorneyll be calling, Lucas said. Ill give you a warning call ahead of time.

I appreciate it, the sheriff said. Id also appreciate it if youd get the hell out of my town.

Were going tomorrow morning, Lucas said.

And I surely wish you hadnt taken Larry out in the parking lot. Im always shorthanded when the snow starts to fly.

Sorry.

But not too sorry, the sheriff said.

Not too, Lucas agreed, and grinned at him.

The sheriff showed the faintest hint of a smile, and eased out the door. The older man was the last to leave, and at the threshold, he turned and looked at Sherrill, and then back at Lucas. I once had a woman looked just about like that, he said to Lucas. When I was just about your age.

Oh yeah?

Yeah. He gave Sherrill a long look, and said, She flat wore me out.

Better to wear out than to rust, Sherrill said, from her corner.

Yeah. And he laughed, a nasty laugh for an old codger, and closed the door.