MISSING IN ACTION (PART 11)

SATURDAY JUNE 21ST, 2008

William Donaldson's desk was strewn with newspapers, documents and coffee cups. It had been just over a week since the discovery of the Bonk's in Waubedonia Park. The stress of the entire situation was beginning to take its toll on him. The severe lack of sleep wasn't helping either.

Gary Grassman was supposed to have arrived in town on Thursday. But 48 hours after his promised noon arrival, there had been no sight of him. Donaldson had been constantly trying to reach Grassman at his Florida home to no avail. He'd even gone so far as to have the local Palm Bay Police Department drop by the home to see if he was there. In spite of repeated attempts, Grassman was never spotted. Based on the unusual tail end of their phone call he began to worry that maybe something had happened to Gary as well. Who is Buster Koons? How does Gary know him? And what does it all have to do with these murders? Was Buster Koons the killer? Had Gary arrived, only to become yet another one of Buster's victims? The lack of information was driving him nuts.

Donaldson had spent a good deal of time on Friday trying to track down Old Pete to see if the crazy old man could provide any decent information to him. After all, it was Pete who had first uttered the name "Buster Koons." Surely he must know something. But what? In spite of his best efforts, no trace of Pete could be found. Yet Pete was always around Fritz's - except now. Donaldson wondered if Pete could possibly be a victim as well. It was all overwhelming.

As he set down the cup holding the cold coffee he'd just ingested, the door to the station pushed open. In walked Officer Robert Teske of the Wisconsin State Police.

"Good morning Bill."

"Hey Bob... What's good about it?"

"Well the sun is shining. I just had a wonderful breakfast down at the Fredonia Family Restaurant. And the O's took it to the Brewers last night."

Teske had grown up in Laurel, Maryland - a suburb just outside of Baltimore. Since the Brewers had moved to the National League a decade earlier, his hometown Orioles didn't visit Milwaukee's Miller Park. But the Interleague schedule was taking place right now, allowing a rare opportunity for Teske to see his favorite team come to town. Unfortunately for him, although he had tickets to all three games that weekend, his prospects of attending had vanished thanks to the murders in Fredonia and Manitowoc.

"Yeah I caught some of the game on TV. Did you see the bomb that Fielder hit though? I'm telling you. With a little luck, they could get the wildcard this year."

"The Brewers in the playoffs? Keep dreaming Bill," chuckled Teske.

The two officers continued to engage in small talk for a few minutes when their conversation was interrupted by another officer running through the door. It was Officer Nora Peterson, Teske's younger partner.

"It's just coming across the radio now," blurted Peterson. "Three bodies found dead up on Washington Island. One was hacked up and stuck to a tree - naked as a jaybird. The other two were tossed off a tower. Could be a suicide... the two tower bodies, not the girl stuck to the tree."

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there missy," said Teske in a calming voice. "Yer speakin' so fast I can't make a lick of sense of what you're saying. Tower??? What tower? And stuck to a tree? What do you mean she was "stuck" to a tree? Naked?"

Donaldson pushed his way past the other two officers, working his way to the waiting room where a small TV was set to channel 4 out of Milwaukee. His mind was somewhat in a fog as he listened to the breaking news story about three unidentified bodies being discovered on Washington Island. As the newscaster rattled off the phrase "stuck to a tree" the words repeated themselves in Donaldson's mind over and over again until in a fit if rage he screamed, "WHERE THE FUCK IS GRASSMAN???"