Free Meadowlark by Sheila Simonson

onto the
floor.
    "No, oh, no." I don't remember which of us said that.
    We stood for a frozen moment staring at my excavation. The
toe of a filthy sneaker showed through the ice. I had found Hugo
Groth.

Chapter 5
    The shovel I had used to clear away the ice clattered to the
concrete floor. For perhaps half a minute Marianne and I stood
staring into the bin. I thought I could see the distorted outline of
Hugo's body, but that may have been imagination. The sneaker,
however, definitely held a foot. I could see the sock and a bit of pale
skin. I imagined I could smell death.
    The ice machine whirred. Marianne breathed raggedly. I
didn't breathe at all. Then, as we stared, the machine clacked. Fresh
ice cubes cascaded down until they buried the shoe. The process
must have been triggered by the level of ice in the bin.
    I grabbed Marianne's arm. "We have to get out of here." I
pulled her across to the door and out into the drizzle.
    "Oh, God, he's...it's...like a meat locker!" Marianne covered
her mouth.
    "Don't think. Don't even try to imagine what's in there. We
have to get help."
    Marianne turned away from me, gagging, and threw up on a
clump of grass. I clenched my eyes shut, willed my stomach not to
respond.
    "I'm s-sorry." She had found a tissue and was wiping her
mouth. I took a gulp of air and counted to thirty, slowly clearing my
mind. Across the open broccoli field the crows cawed. A truck
rumbled on the state highway.
    I exhaled on a slow count. "We have to get help. One of us
should stay here to be sure nobody else enters the building. The
other will have to go find the deputy. You said Bianca was showing
him Hugo's bike."
    "Yes. They're at the flower house."
    "Where are the greenhouses?"
    "Over... Never mind. I'll go. I don't want to stay here alone."
She started off, wide shoulders hunched in her red jacket, tissue still
pressed to her mouth. She had gone half a dozen paces when she
stopped dead and turned around. "I'm an idiot. I can use this."
    She pulled a portable phone from one pocket, extended the
antenna, and punched in a number. Her hands shook so hard she
almost dropped the phone, but I heard it buzz and a voice reply.
    "It's Marianne. Lark is with me. We found Hugo." Quack,
quack from the phone. "No. He's dead. In the ice house." Silence.
Quack, quack. "I told you, in the ice house!" Marianne began to sob.
"He's buried in ice. Somebody turned the machine on." Quack.
    Marianne, still weeping, retracted the antenna. "That was
Bianca," she choked. "They're coming."
    "Was the deputy with her?"
    "Yeah." She drew a quivering breath. "Dale Nelson."
    I knew Dale. I had met him the previous summer under
unpleasant circumstances. We got along. Jay had worked with him
on that case and at least two others, and Dale was now a detective
sergeant. He had been the senior patrol officer for the county when
we met. If Dale had responded to Bianca's call, either she had pull or
she was very persuasive.
    She was very persuasive. I knew that.
    "Give me the phone, please, Marianne. I need to call my
husband."
    Marianne handed me the transmitter. She didn't hesitate,
but, even so, I felt defensive.
    "Jay helps the sheriff's evidence team on difficult cases. This
one will be a stinker because of the ice. How the hell does this
work?" I had been avoiding cellular phones. I ripped off my wooly
gloves and stuck them in my pocket.
    Wordless, Marianne showed me the Talk button. I tapped in
our number. When the phone began to ring, I held it to my ear and
looked around me. The Search and Rescue team would be
approaching the broccoli field from the east. So far they were hidden
behind the ridge at the far rim of the field.
    After half a dozen rings Jay answered.
    I said, "It's Lark. We found Hugo's body."
    He cleared his throat.
    "Dale Nelson's here--at the farm, I mean." I explained where
I was and what I had found. I'm sure I was incoherent.
    "Jesus. I'm coming out. Warn Dale." He paused. "Are you all
right, Lark?"
    "Physically