Cold Hunter's Moon Read online

  “Hey, Lark, get that boot out and let’s get this show on the road,” Paul yelled as soon as he finished his coffee. They refreshed the dogs’ interest in the boot and restarted their search.

  The marsh wasn’t completely frozen. Between the matted sedge grass and snow, it was like walking on marshmallows. A hundred feet in, Duke wandered into a small grove of sumac trees and startled a flock of cardinals. The beauty of the bright red males distracted them. No one noticed Buck until he trotted up to them with something bright yellow in his mouth. Buck released his find, a yellow mitten, to John.

  “Do you think it’s anything important?” John asked as Lark put it in a plastic evidence bag.

  “We won’t know until we search this area,” Lark said. “Why don’t you walk the dogs on across the marsh. Yell if you find anything.” He turned away to discuss the search with Paul.

  Ann and John noticed a large number of fresh deer tracks as they crossed the marsh. They walked across the faint trail of a snowmobile and agreed that it must have been the one they’d heard on Saturday night. Neither of them could figure out who would be out without their running lights before the trails were open. Ann was sure they were up to no good, like poaching deer. They looked for signs of a kill but didn’t find any.

  When they reached the other side of the marsh, Ann sat down on a fallen tree. John joined her and lit a cigarette. They relaxed and watched Lark and Paul search the sumac grove. After fifteen minutes of waiting, they grew restless and wandered west along the edge of the marsh. The woods had a thick undergrowth of brambles and sumac that made it almost impossible to get through, summer or winter. Ann was content just walking along the edge. Suddenly, Duke swerved into the underbrush. John gave him some extra lead and the dog charged into the thicket. He started barking and Buck ran after him.

  Ann heard twigs snapping. Four deer leaped out of the woods and ran past her into the marsh. The dogs crashed through the snow right behind them, dragging down the brush with their leashes. Buck galloped past Ann and pulled her off her feet. He dragged her fifteen feet before she came to a stop on her stomach. Buck’s leash was still clenched in her outstretched hands and her arms felt like they might come out of their sockets. She rolled over on her back and lay in the trench her body had plowed through the snow, trying to catch her breath and sit up as Buck squirmed around her. She looked over at John. Duke was at the end of his leash, barking at the deer that had escaped back into the woods. Once again, she asked herself why they had such large dogs.

  “My God, are you all right?” John yelled as he reeled Duke in and hurried over to her.

  Ann couldn’t answer because Buck was licking and nuzzling her. The more she protested, the more rambunctious he became. Even with John’s help, she struggled to get up. In all the fracas, Buck pulled off one of her mittens. Swearing, Ann grabbed at it but Buck pranced out of her reach. She lunged towards him and slipped on the packed down snow, landing on her hands and knees and dropping the leash. He wasted no time dashing into the woods.

  “Shit,” John yelled as he rushed after Buck with Duke leading the way.

  Ann turned around to see what the sheriff was up to, hoping he hadn’t seen her Three Stooges act. He was only partially visible as he walked back and forth, searching the grove.

  She was brushing the snow off her clothes when two men stepped out of the woods about a hundred yards from her. They wore orange jumpsuits and orange hats with the furry earflaps that make people look like they’d lost their last shred of intelligence. Ann jammed her naked hand down in her coat pocket and watched them approach. They both had at least two days’ growth of beard and dark hair straggling out from under their hats. Looking across the marsh, Ann noted that the sheriff and Paul were also headed her way. John was not in sight, but she could hear the occasional unintelligible yell from the direction he’d taken into the woods.

  Both hunters carried unsheathed rifles. As they got closer, she noted that the taller man’s hair and mustache were a salt and pepper mix and his deep-set eyes were surrounded by heavy crows’ feet and prominent bags. His face was ruddy. Ann figured it was windburn mixed with a healthy dose of alcohol.

  When they got within five feet, Salt and Pepper pointed a black-gloved finger at her, “Hey, lady, what the hell are you doin’ out here? We was trackin’ some deer and your damn dog spooked’em. I damn near shot him. Had him sighted in when I saw he was draggin’ a leash.”

  “What are you doing on this property?” Ann asked. She crossed her arms, tucking her ungloved hand into the armpit of her coat.

  The men looked at each other and laughed. Now that they were closer, it was obvious that the other one was a younger version of Salt and Pepper. His full mustache was reddish brown. His eyes were the same dark brown but the crows’ feet and bags were only beginning to form. He unzipped his coat and pulled out a small flask, confirming Ann’s suspicions. He took a swig before holding it out to her.

  “No, thanks,” Ann said, waving it away. “What are you doing on this property?”

  “Ain’t it obvious?” Salt and Pepper said. “We’re huntin’. This ain’t no time to be out for a walk. You could get yourself killed.” They chuckled, their bodies weaving back and forth like trees in the wind.

  John came out of the woods fifty yards from them. He doubled over and put his hands down on his knees. Ann saw his breath, rapid wisps of frosty air, and realized he was winded. The dogs stood docile by his side. She had a strong suspicion that corporal punishment, at a level frowned on by the ASPCA, had been administered while they were in the woods. When the dogs saw the two hunters, they started barking.

  “That your old man?” The younger hunter nodded at John.

  John lifted his head and looked at Ann. “I heard you talking to someone. I thought it was the sheriff.” He walked over to them, restraining the dogs in the heel mode.

  “These two men are a bit upset that the dogs spooked their deer.”

  “Oh, really,” John said. “If you look to your left, you’ll see two men who may be as upset about your deer being spooked as you are.” The hunters swiveled around to see Paul and Lark, about forty yards away and approaching rapidly.

  The younger man raised his hand. “We’ll be on our way, we didn’t mean any harm.” He glanced at Ann. “Dad and I, we’d never shoot a dog.”

  “Why are you hunting on this property?”

  “Well, shit, I’ve hunted here for years,” Salt and Pepper bellowed.

  “Poaching maybe, but you’ve never hunted here legally,” Paul said. “Lonnie, you know Sam only let people hunt by invitation and you were never on the guest list. These are the Ransons and they own this land now. Didn’t you notice the no trespassing signs posted all over?”

  The younger hunter shook his head. “We didn’t see any signs, but you know Sam always had signs and everybody ignored them’cause he was gone.”

  “Good one, Ronnie,” Paul said.

  Lark stepped towards the two men. “Paul will take your guns. He’ll return them once you’re off this property.”

  “Who the fuck are you to tell me and Dad what to do?” slurred Ronnie.

  Lark ignored him and turned to Paul. “Escort these guys back the way they came. If they aren’t fit to drive, take them home or to jail, depending on how much trouble they give you.” He radioed Jim to come to the marsh ASAP.

  “Who the hell are you, asshole?” Ronnie shouted, handing his rifle to Paul.

  “I’m the new sheriff and you’re about this close to being arrested,” Lark snapped, holding his finger and thumb an inch apart in front of Ronnie’s face.

  Salt and Pepper had been quiet, looking back and forth between people as they talked. He’d given his rifle to Paul without resistance. Suddenly, he turned towards Ann. “Did he say your name is Ranson?”

  “Yes,” she said as he walked over to her.

  He poked his finger in her face, nearly hitting her cheek. He reeked of alcohol mingled with tobacco and sweat. His e
yes were shot through with red streaks. “Are you that bitch that took over down to the hospital?” he asked, swaying back and forth. Both dogs growled and Duke lunged forward, snarling at him. John pulled them back and took a few steps away.

  Lark walked over and stared into Lonnie’s eyes. “Get your finger out of her face.”

  Lonnie dropped his hand. “Are you that fucking bitch from the hospital?” he yelled.

  “I work at Mason Memorial,” Ann said, standing her ground.

  “If I’d known that, we woulda killed them fuckin’ dogs,” he shrieked, his face flushing. “You’re making my wife’s life a living hell. Making her work night shift and weekends. She hates you, you fuckin’ bitch.”

  “That’s enough,” Lark said, stepping in front of him.

  “Who is your wife?” Ann asked, her voice calm. She heard the faint sound of a snowmobile in the distance.

  “Betty Chevsky,” he screamed, his face reddening so dramatically that Ann thought he might have a stroke. “She hates your guts. They all hate you. It was a good place to work’til you came.”

  “That’s more than enough,” Lark snapped. He grabbed Lonnie’s upper arms and walked him over to Paul as Jim arrived with the snowmobile. “If these two give you any trouble, arrest them.”

  Ann watched Paul escort them away, Jim following on the snowmobile. John returned her mitten and she slipped it on, marveling that she hadn’t noticed how cold her hand had become.

  “Boy, I really need a break,” she said. Even the dogs seemed tired, lying down in the snow rather than playing. Ann rubbed her mittened hands over her face. “I had no idea Betty Chevsky felt that way. She volunteered to work nights and weekends. I can’t believe she’s married to that bastard.”

  “Those guys are just one of the reasons I didn’t want you out here today. They could have hurt you,” John said, putting his arm around her waist. “Why did you challenge them?”

  “Challenge them?” Ann muttered, stunned by his comment. She pulled away and turned to face him. “Jesus, John, after five years on night shift in the ER I think I can handle myself. What do you think I was doing? Having a tea party? I spent more than my fair share of time dealing with chauvinistic drunks, violent drunks, drunks with knives and guns, and women who had the shit beaten out of them by drunks. Believe me, these guys don’t listen to shy, retiring women. Those are the ones who get beaten up or killed.”

  “She’s right,” Lark said. “How about we call it a day?” He dug his watch out from under his glove. “It’s after eleven, we can head back for lunch.”

  “I agree. We can come back out this afternoon,” John said.

  “Lark, I almost forgot in all the excitement. Did you find anything in the sumac grove?” Ann asked.

  “A couple of old beer cans and a lot of squirrel tracks, all covered with fresh snow.”

  Ann frowned and shook her head. “I don’t think our dogs roam much further than this, so I’d rather continue to look and get it over with.” She took Buck’s leash from John.

  They decided to search for a couple more hours. Once again Lark pulled the red boot out of his backpack. The dogs sniffed it and strained at their leashes.

  As they moved through the snow at the edge of the woods, Ann found herself relaxing in the beauty of the marsh. The dogs flushed two enormous, shaggy rabbits. The size of their coats suggested that Big Oak was in for a long, harsh winter. Birds chattered at them from the brush and a hawk floated over, looking for dinner. Ann thought about how hard it must be for the animals to survive and made a vow to add more feeders before she went back to work.

  They crossed the snowmobile trail again. Despite repeated attempts to keep the dogs together, Duke veered off into the brush on the south end of the marsh while Buck strained to go north along the trail. They decided that Ann would let Buck go where he wanted as long as she didn’t leave the trail, and John and Lark would head into the woods.

  Buck and Ann worked their way slowly along the trail. It was obvious that a snowmobile had recently been through the area. They had gone about three hundred yards when Buck swerved into the woods, following a set of animal tracks. Ann pulled him back but he whined and lunged forward, unwilling to return to the trail. Swearing, she reeled him in to ten feet of leash and followed, expecting another bunch of deer to fly by her. Thankfully, no deer appeared, but Buck did flush a rabbit that he chased halfheartedly before getting back on the trail.

  Then Buck stopped about a hundred feet into a deep thicket of sumac. He began digging around the end of a snow-covered log, then ran to tug at something at the other end. Ann slogged forward and bent down to sweep the snow off it. It was a yellow mitten like the one Buck had found earlier. She stood up and scanned the log, suddenly realizing that she was looking at a snow-covered human body. She stooped down and attempted to turn it over. It was facedown and frozen stiff, the arms splayed out and bent at the elbows. It was impossible for her to move it by herself. The person was obviously dead. She dragged Buck a few feet, yelling at him to heel. He reluctantly fell in line beside her. They followed their own trail out of the woods.

  Once Ann got out to the marsh, she looped her scarf around a tree branch. The trail was obvious to her but she wanted to be sure the sheriff could find it. She thought about the body. Obviously, it wasn’t missing a foot because it had on a pair of black boots. She tried to absorb the ramifications of this as she walked back to where John and Lark had entered the woods. She was debating whether to go in after them when a snowmobile came roaring down the trail and stopped in front of her. Paul took off his helmet.

  “Where’s the body Lark radioed about?” he asked, getting off the snowmobile. Seeing the stunned look on Ann’s face, he walked over and took her arm. “Ann, are you OK? You suddenly got very pale. Hey, you look like you’re gonna be sick.”

  Ann didn’t realize she’d covered her mouth with her hands. For once, Buck sat quietly at her side. “Lark doesn’t know about the body I found,” she blurted out.

  “He must, because he radioed me just as we were dropping the Chevskys off at the station. He told me to get back here ASAP.”

  “I’ll show you what Buck and I found. I know it isn’t the body we were looking for because it has on two black boots.” She pointed back up the trail.

  Looking at Ann like she was crazy, Paul radioed Lark and asked for directions. Lark’s voice crackled over the radio, telling him to stay put; they were on their way out.

  While they waited, Paul explained that they gave out minimal information on the radio. Listening to scanners was a way of life in the northwoods. He stopped talking as Duke, John, and Lark emerged from the thicket.

  “Did you find a body?” Ann asked.

  “A skeleton and some clothing,” Lark replied.

  “I can’t believe this. Buck and I found one, too.”

  “What the hell,” John said. Both men started talking overtop of each other.

  “Hold it,” Lark yelled, waving his hands around.

  “You found a body?” John asked Ann.

  “Must be an animal,” Lark muttered.

  “No, it’s a person,” Ann snapped, beginning to realize the impact of what she had found. One body was beyond comprehension, let alone two. The possibility of a third and fourth crept into her mind. Things began to float around her. Lark grabbed her arms and lowered her onto a log. She saw his lips moving but his words didn’t make sense. Through a haze, she saw John wrestling with both dogs, which meant that she’d let go of Buck’s leash.

  “I’m putting your head down between your knees,” Lark said, pushing on her shoulders.

  “Hey I’m OK,” Ann said, resisting his pressure. “I’m not going to faint. Let me sit up.”

  John dumped the dogs on Paul and sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Ann, you’re very pale. Put your head between your knees.”

  “Jesus, you guys,” Ann said, looking from one to the other. “I’m not going to faint. Besides, with all
these clothes on, I don’t think I can bend into that position.”

  “Are you sure you found another human body?” Lark asked, glaring at her.

  “I’m positive. It’s about three hundred yards up ahead.” She pointed out her red scarf. “It has on a yellow mitten. Buck must have found the body earlier and stolen the other one. It has on two black boots and a red coat. There are animal tracks leading in to it. I tried to turn it over but it’s frozen stiff.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Lark said. He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. “We found skeletal remains and a mate to the red boot. Now I’m wondering how many bodies are out here.” His face was grim as he surveyed the marsh. “John, why don’t you and Ann take the dogs back to the house. Paul and I will meet you there later.”

  Lark gave several instructions over the radio and took the snowmobile to find the other body. John and Ann headed back to the house. It was only twelve-thirty, but it felt as if they’d been at it for three days instead of three hours.

  As they walked back, John described what he and Lark had found. Duke had led them two hundred feet into a thicket and right to a snow-covered, partially dismembered skeleton. One of the hands was missing as well as the booted foot the dogs had found. Lark had searched the clothing for identification but none had been found.

  “Probably a woman,” Ann said as they trudged past the sumac thicket where they’d found the yellow mitten.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Small shoe size, red boots, and no sign of ID,” Ann said. “My ID is in my purse and I wouldn’t take my purse on a walk in the woods. It all points to a woman.”

  “You’re probably right. I thought it was a woman or a kid when I first saw the boot.”

  “How long do you think that body’s been out here? The other one looks like it hasn’t been here long. Until I realized it was frozen, I thought we might need the EMTs.”