Moraine Plastics

by John S. Lloyd


Author’s Note: In January 2014, the Boy Scouts of America announced that gay boys would be admitted as members, reversing its longstanding prohibition against “known or avowed homosexuals.” The ban on open or avowed homosexual adults continued, despite mounting opposition. In May 2015, BSA President (and former US Defense Secretary) Robert Gates called the ban “unsustainable”, and in June 2015 it was lifted. While the Boy Scout organization has made changes to its policy. I considered this development carefully but have chosen to publish this piece because it points to the hypocrisy of the Boy Scout organization. As an Eagle Scout I had wonderful experiences in Scouting and was not subjected to personal bullying because I kept my gayness to myself.  Boys, whether gay or straight, need to feel safe.

In the story there are quite a few characters with Nordic names because the story is set where many Scandinavian people live in Wisconsin.  An appendix to this story is a comprehensive character sketch of each of the main characters. I am happy to email it to any reader who would like to have it before the novella is completely up loaded.

If you are too young to read this story, I recommend you not do so. It is based on actual events and depicts scout leaders who were straight, married male predators of young boys. The characters are all fictional, and any resemblance to a person living or deceased, is accidental. I invite your comments about the story and your own experiences as a Scout or a Scout leader. My email address is

Chapter 1

newspaper clipping

The piano player played something from Cabaret, but Lucas couldn’t remember the name of the tune. Even though he and Terry lived only two blocks away, he hadn’t been in this reopened bar called 88 Keys. In his five years in Andersonville, two bars, one gay and one straight, had opened and closed in this same spot. The space was dim except for the spotlight that fell onto the piano and the piano player, an older, round faced fellow with thinning grey hair and horn-rimmed glasses. Lucas listened as his eyes adjusted in the darkened space.

Lucas was not a person to go to bars, but he had to get out of Terry’s condo. He knew he had made a mistake becoming Terry’s roommate and lover: it wasn’t working. He thought getting out would help him think through what to do. He and Terry had developed a successful business together, and they were a good team when it came to doing management retreats and executive coaching, but he never should have agreed to move in together. Terry was too inflexible, and while they could work together, they just couldn’t live together. The rigidly neat Terry complained that Lucas, a passionate cook, was messing up his kitchen. And Terry didn’t seem really interested in having sex, which was important to Lucas.

The piano player announced he was taking a break when he finished the number. Lucas walked to the bar.  He noticed a fifty-something man wearing a plaid shirt, sitting at the piano bar. Once seated on a bar stool, he ordered a cosmos straight up. As Lucas watched the bartender shake and pour the drink, the man from the piano bar walked up and said to the bartender, “Scotch on the rocks.”

“Any particular scotch?”

“Glenlevit.” The man smiled at Lucas who smiled back. “How are you tonight?”

“Just out for a little air.”

“Me, too.” He turned to return to his seat by the piano.

Uncharacteristically Lucas said, “You from here in Chicago?”

The fellow turned around and stood beside Lucas, “No, down from Wisconsin for the weekend.  How about yourself?”

“Born here, raised here, went to school here and live here.”

“What kind of work do you do?” the man asked.

“Change management consulting, with my partner.”

“I could definitely use some of that in the company I run.”

Lucas detected a business development opportunity, “What kind of company?”

“A plastics manufacturing company up in Waukesha.” After taking a sip of his drink the man said, “Didn’t introduce myself, I’m Carl Lindquist, and you…?

“Lucas Polansky. Nice to meet you. Have you been here before?”

“No, first time, new to the gay bar thing. But I like the music and needed to get away. I recently divorced and probably should have moved away but I bought this dysfunctional company…” he paused.  “Sorry, you aren’t interested in my problems.”

“Well, yes, I am. Who knows, Terry and I may be able to help you.  Change management’s what we do.”

Carl said, “Well, truthfully that’s not my problem. I divorced to be free to explore the gay world but find myself alone in a rural area, running a troubled company with no time to get away to restart a personal life.”

The piano player returned and the noise level was too great to continue talking. They sat together listening as Lucas finished his drink and he said, “One is enough, gotta go.”

As Lucas stood up, Carl asked, “Any chance you’d be free for brunch tomorrow? My treat.”

Lucas thought the guy was trying to pick him up but decided that the prospect of new business was too good to turn down. “Sure, what time and where?”

“Would Ann Sather’s work for you? Say, eleven.”

“See you there.”

As Lucas walked back, the air was unusually cold but clear for Chicago in early May. The condo was quiet, because Terry was away.  Lucas wondered if he could like Carl, who was considerably older than he was. Carl was an attractive man who appeared in good physical condition except for the small paunch over his belt. Carl’s full head of blond hair was turning grey but all there.

The next morning at 11:00, he met Carl outside of Ann Sather’s Restaurant. Once inside, Carl commented, “It’s noisier in here than the piano bar. You know someplace quieter?”

“Yes, about two blocks down Clark is a place. It’s called Les Escargots, and it’s as busy as Ann Sather’s but definitely quieter.” Once seated, Lucas asked, “Carl, I hope you don’t think I’m too pushy. Would you tell me a little more about your company? Perhaps Terry and I could help.”

Carl began. “Before we go there, I assume you and your partner are gay, right?”

“Business partners first and more recently partner partners. But honestly, that second part isn’t working very well.”

“I don’t mean to be too personal but you are an attractive fellow. I was just wondering…” he stopped. “I’ll give you the short version. I took early retirement from GE Healthcare last year.  Worked there for twenty-five years.  My division moved to San Jose, and I didn’t want to move away from my daughter and two granddaughters. They live here in Illinois. I knew about Moraine Plastics, because GE bought plastic insulators and other plastic items from them.  I found out the company was for sale because the former owner, Steve Swensen, was killed in a boating accident. Buying a company seemed like a good idea.”

“You implied last night that things were not going smoothly.”

“That’s true. All the Nordic managers except one were there when I bought the firm. Individually, each one is nice and seems proficient. But they are constantly sniping and criticizing each other, whatever opportunity they get. You’re the first person I have mentioned this to, because I really don’t have anyone to talk to about the issue.”

“Well, maybe Terry and I could come up and meet the managers.”

“Enough about me. What about you?”

Whether or not Carl was looking for a boyfriend Lucas decided to keep the focus on a business. He started, “My partner, Terry Lindstrom, is Swedish and would fit in well with the Scandinavians in your company.  Me, I’m half Filipino and half Polish.  Immodestly, I’m cuter, shorter and more charming.”  Carl laughed at that.

Carl said, “You’ve been out quite a while?”

“Since I was a teenager but it’s only me and my mom. Are you out?”

“Yes, but inactive. I had more fun as a married man than I have now, stranded in rural Wisconsin. Anyway, have another mimosa.”

The brunch ended with Carl inviting Lucas and Terry up to the plant. Two weeks later, they sat in Carl’s knotty-pine paneled office looking at the Boy Scout memorabilia on the book shelves. Carl was ranting, “Why are my managers at each other’s throats? How long will it take to get me a proposal to do something about this?”

“Before we can solve the problem, we need to speak to your managers. There have to be reasons,” Terry asked, “Are you a Boy Scout leader?”

“This stuff isn’t mine. It belonged to the company’s former owner, Steve Swensen. He was killed in a boating accident.  I haven’t had time to get rid of the stuff.”

Later in the month, Terry and Lucas were back for a startup meeting with the managers.  After the meeting, they met with Carl, Terry said angrily, “Only two of the seven managers showed up. Lucas and I have been working together for more than four years and we’ve never been stonewalled like we were this morning. There is definitely something going on. Tell us more about Moraine Plastics.” 

“I don’t want to talk here at the plant. Would you follow me out to my house? It’s not too far, and it’ll be easier to talk there. I’ll fix dinner.” Lucas drove while Terry complained about the unnecessary time this was taking. Carl’s home was a one story rambling brick ranch in the country. It had manicured lawns and tidy, clipped shrubbery. Carl led them to a screened porch at the back of the house, overlooking a pool, which was dirty and filled with leaves.

Terry’s revulsion showed on his face as Carl explained, “I purchased the house at the time I bought the company.  I haven’t gotten around to fixing the pool.”

Carl prepared a dinner of grilled steaks, micro-waved baked potatoes, and a green salad.  Terry, a vegetarian, told him to hold off on his steak, which avoided an awkward situation.  Lucas and Carl drank red wine. Terry asked for a beer, which Carl found with difficulty. 

During dinner Carl said, “I’m an avid cyclist. The house is about ten miles from the plant. Initially I liked it because it was away from town so I can take long rides on the country roads. I have plenty of privacy but it can be lonely. I was married for many years and have two kids.”

Terry said, “Lucas tells me that you’re pursuing a gay life.”

“Hard to do when you live in the sticks, run a company and have to be a respectable businessman.”

Lucas changed the direction of the conversation, saying, “Carl, what I think is logical is holding a management retreat. Terry’s a great facilitator. After being at Moraine today, it seems like the right thing to do.”

Carl jumped in, “I have a totally furnished room in the basement that is comfortable and could be configured for the team building session.” 

Tactfully Terry said, “Carl, I don’t know how to say this but I feel that the pool has to be cleaned and painted before bringing the team to the house. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think we should bring the managers out here and have them see a grungy pool.”

“Shit, what does the pool have to do with team building?”

“Nothing really, but I just don’t think it creates the right environment.”

Carl snarled, “This isn’t a pool party.”

Terry pulled back and Lucas took over. “Carl, what Terry is saying is you want your managers to feel you are interested in providing them a first class work environment. The pool is not ready for prime time.”

“Carl warmed to Lucas’s comment. “OK, I get it.  I have to get a new pump and have it cleaned and painted which will take a couple of weeks if not a month. I was hoping to put off the expense until spring.”

“We shouldn’t put off the team building until spring. Maybe we should think of another location.”

“No, I want to do it here. I’ll get the pool fixed,” Carl said, obviously flustered by Terry. After more discussion, the three men agreed to propose August 4-5, August 25-26 and September 15-16 to the managers. Lucas said he would draft the language for the message the following morning.

Lucas was up, sitting in his boxers and T-shirt at the kitchen counter, drafting the memo when Carl walked into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker. Seeing Lucas he turned, but Lucas spoke, “Carl, don’t worry about being naked. You look good for someone in his fifties. You must work out.”

Carl smiled, “Being by myself, I spend most time in the buff. Sorry, I should have been more considerate.”

“Don’t worry. I should have this memo done in a few minutes.”

“Lucas, I am sorry but I don’t care for your partner very much. I apologize for being so brusque with him.”

“Oh, he is a good guy, just a little uptight. He is good at what he does.”  He turned away and continued writing the memo. As his fingers touched the keys of his laptop, he was thinking what it might be like to be with a mature man who was outgoing and well off. He put that thought out of his mind as he saw Terry walk momentarily into the room and quickly turn to leave before Carl saw him. 

After breakfast he and Terry got ready to head back to Chicago. Terry said, “What did he think he was doing, fixing breakfast in the nude? I don’t want pubic hair in my cereal.”

“Oh, don’t let that bother you. It is his house.”

“But doesn’t he respect the view of his guests. I wonder if he treats his staff with the same disrespect.” Lucas was worried about how Terry was going to be able to lead the team building session when he had negative feelings about the leader.

Lucas called Carl’s assistant, Jeff, the following Monday to find out the result of the survey.  According to Jeff, there would be six of the seven managers present for the September dates. The other person had a family wedding.  Lucas knew that not having full participation would be a hindrance but thought that they would have to go with it.

Terry and Lucas were scheduled to return to Moraine for a preparatory session in early August.  Two days prior to their trip, Terry got a call informing him that his mother had fallen and broken her hip. He packed the car and drove to Minneapolis.

Lucas arrived, and Carl was glad to see him, but he was busy. He encouraged Lucas to meet with several of the managers one-on-one.  He met Bjorn Swensen, a plump, red-faced Swede, who was the operations manager, followed by the CFO and the HR manager.  When he was conferring with Carl he could tell something was bothering him.  He said, “Carl, I had productive sessions with your CFO, the HR director and the fellow, Bjorn Swensen, in charge of operation..  They look so similar with blond hair cut close, Scandinavian pale skin and piercing blue eyes.

“Bjorn is my biggest problem. He does what he wants and doesn’t tell me anything.”

“He seemed open and communicative to me. Why do you say that?”

“The other day we had a senior manager’s meeting and Bjorn failed to mention that we had received an order that was twice our capacity to deliver in the expected time frame.  He should have mentioned it, and we could have worked through it.  Two days later, he was totally flustered with the order, but  didn’t acknowledge that he might have done anything wrong.  The managers don’t seem to care about each other and certainly not me.”

Before Lucas had time to speak, Carl continued, “Lucas, you want to come out to the house and see how the pool construction is coming along? I’ve got a couple of steaks to put on the grill. Sorry Terry isn’t able to be here.”

Sure, “I’ll cancel hotel reservation if your guest room is still available.”

“Cancel, stay at the house. I like company but have to attend a Chamber of Commerce breakfast meeting, but that doesn’t start until 9:00am. You can drive yourself to the plant.”


Lucas pulled into Carl’s driveway as Carl drove his black BMW 535 into the garage. When Lucas joined Carl on the back porch, Carl said, “The guys are making progress on the pool. Let’s take a look.”

The sun was bright as Carl slid one corner of the blue trap back. The dark hole was illuminated.  Lucas detected tiles where there had been none before. He asked, “When do they think they’ll be finished?”

“I told the contractor it had to be finished by Labor Day or I was going to dock his fee.”

Lucas wondered if Carl was like this in his dealings with his managers. “Looks like good progress.” Not waiting for Carl, Lucas asked, “Carl, how long ago did you acquire the company?”

“About a year ago.”

“You said Moraine Plastics was a client of GE.”

“No, we are a supplier. I was at dinner one night with a friend, who told me that the owner had been killed in a boating accident in northern Wisconsin. He thought the company was going to be sold.  I called my financial advisor and my attorney to ask them to get their heads together and see if I could make a bid for the company. They told me the owner did not have a succession plan; his will was out of date and gave no directions about disposition of the company.  I made a bid, and the executor accepted without negotiations.”

Lucas took a sip of his beer, “So you bought from the estate?”

“It was definitely not that easy. The guy’s will stated that his assets would go his wife who he was estranged from, to Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Waukesha and the Swedish Brotherhood or something like that.  Well, there was a Lutheran Brotherhood but no Swedish Brotherhood.  To complicate matters, the divorce had not been finalized.” Carl got up to start the grill.  Hearing the front door bell ring, Carl called, “Lucas, can you get the door? I think it’s the garden center.”

When Lucas opened the door he could see a black pickup truck with Wisconsin Garden Center written in script on the door. Before him stood a thin young fellow with a black tank top and tan cargo shorts. The fellow had soft blue eyes and smiled, “Mr. Lindstrum?”

“No, Mr. Lindquist is inside. How can I help you?”

“Here to deliver some bushes he ordered. Where do I put them?”

Suspecting they were landscaping for the pool Lucas said, “Take them around that side and put them on the patio. Lucas walked out to the truck and watched as the young guy placed the plants into the carrier wagon.  Each time he bent down, his baggy shorts slipped further down, exposing of his ass crack.  Lucas returned to the kitchen to confirm that Carl wanted the plants in the back.

Carl said,” Have him put the plants near the water spigot because it will be a couple of days before they’re planted.” Lucas met the boy in the back and continued to admire the boy’s firm butt as he placed plant after plant on the ground.  When he finished there was little of his butt that was covered. He turned and pulled up his pants, “There you go.  Anything else?”

Smiling Lucas said, “I appreciate your ass…your work.”

“Sure thing, mister. Thanks, I try to keep busy,” he gave his crotch a lift. “See you around.”

As Carl put their steaks on the grill, he said, “Thanks for getting the plants arranged.”

“Hope they’re where you want them. How long you have lived in this house?”

“I got it with the company.” The former owner lived here. The executor offered me a deal that I couldn’t refuse. I originally planned to sell it but have grown to like the privacy.”

“What do you know about the former owner?”

Carl seemed puzzled, “His name was Steve Swensen. He was thirty-four when he was killed. He inherited the company from his grandfather. That’s about all I know.” Carl hesitated, “Why do you ask?”

“I am thinking about the retreat and bet most of the managers have been here before.  For that reason, I am not sure this is the best place to have the retreat.”

“I still think it’ll work, but I’m open to your suggestions.”

After dinner Carl said, "Let’s go to the basement." He seemed to have forgotten that Terry and Lucas had been there once before. As Carl opened the basement door, the phone rang.  He motioned for Lucas to go ahead as he stepped away. At the bottom of the stairs, Lucas hit a button, thinking it was a light switch, and a screen descended from the ceiling. At the same time a small door opened in the wall. A video started, showing two men fucking. He hit the wall button again, the video stopped, and the screen retreated as Carl came down the stairs.

Carl said, “I see you found the control panel. I rarely come down here.”

Surprised by the video, Lucas stumbled before saying, “Carl, can we use the screen and video projector for our session?”

“Yes. I’ll have a computer available if you need one.”

“No, no, we’ll bring ours.”

The next morning Carl was up making coffee when Lucas entered the kitchen. This time Carl didn’t excuse his nudity as he proceeded to get the orange juice and cereal out. He invited Lucas to help myself as he proceeded to dress and get on his way to the Chamber of Commerce meeting. He invited Lucas to stay around the house as long as he wanted to.  Lucas was anxious for Carl to leave so he could do more exploring in the basement.

As Carl pulled out of the driveway, Lucas opened the basement door and hit the light switch as he slowly descended the stairs.  He hit the screen button.  Again the screen dropped and the video started.  Before he could hit the stop button he heard the door bell ring. When Lucas opened the door there stood the young fellow from the nursery.

“More plants?” I said.

“No, just stopped by.  Is Mr. Lindquist here?”

“No, he’s gone to work. How can I help you?”

“I thought I might be able to help you,” he said smiling.

“What do you have in mind?

“Man, me and my friends used to come out here for fun in the pool.”

“Come in.” He stepped in and went directly to the basement door.

“What’s your name?”

Brushing his blond hair aside he said, “Bret. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucas Polansky. I work for Mr. Lindquist. Do you know him?

“No, I don’t, but I knew Mr. Swensen.” Bret hurried down the stairs, and Lucas followed him. He stopped and looked at the two young jocks continuing to fondle and suck each other.  Bret immediately pulled his shirt up to take it off.

“Bret, tell me what went on here.”

He proceeded to strip off his cargo shorts and unlaced his running shoes. As he reached his thumbs in the tops of his boxers covered in red chilies Lucas said, “Bret, hold on.”

He turned, “Man, I don’t have much time. Have to get to the nursery. Can’t take a chance that I’ll lose my job.”

“There’s time, believe me. Tell me what you meant when you said you had fun here.” Bret looked around suspiciously as if he thought he was on camera, “Well, when we were in the Boy Scouts, me and my friends would come to swim and play with Mr. Swensen and the other Scout leaders. If we rode our bikes and saw the Scout flag up, we could come in.”

“How old were you when that happened?”

“I must have been 12 or 13, cuz I dropped out of Scouts about that time. My friend, Chuck, and I were out to each other, and he didn’t like when I did things with other than him. He wasn’t a Boy Scout”

“Got it. Did other boys participate?”

“Oh sure, the whole patrol came down here at one time or other.”

Bret approached Lucas and grabbed his belt and unzipped his fly. He proceeded to rub Lucas’s cock through his briefs until it was stiff and confidently said, “Step out of your trousers and underpants.”

He slowly dropped to his knees and took Lucas’s cock in his mouth. Instantly Lucas was transported back to the basement of Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Chicago when he was forced to his knees by his friend, Father Gregory. Father made him take his nasty, chubby penis into his mouth. Lucas was repulsed but didn’t stop because he was afraid Father would be mad at him. He knew he should have stopped Bret but he didn’t as he gave Lucas’s dick a good workout.

Bret stopped sucking and said, “Man, do you like this? You seem to have drifted away. Don’t you like what I’m doing?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re great. Just started thinking about work. I’ll pay attention.” Bret continued and Lucas finally climaxed but without much enthusiasm.” Minutes later Bret sprinted up the stairs leaving Lucas standing naked with his dick dripping. 

Lucas dressed and opened several of the doors that led off of the main basement room. He found one locked door. He suspected that Carl had not taken time to find the key or have one made.  Lucas ran his hand over the top of the door frame and found a key. One quick turn opened the door. As his eyes focused in the dim light, he could see a sling, a pile of wrestling mats and several file cabinets. He turned off the light.

Carl and Lucas arrived at the plant at the same time. Lucas asked permission to look at the managers’ employment files. “I’m not a detective, but there’s more I need to find out before we’re ready to commence the team building.”

“Is that necessary?”

Without answering directly, Lucas asked, “Is Mr. Swensen, your operations manager, related to the former owner of Moraine?  Do you know if the personnel file on Steve Swensen still exists?”

“First, Bjorn is Steven’s cousin. Second, yes, I do have the personnel file. Someone brought it up from HR in a manila envelope. I didn’t ever open it.”

“Could I see it?” Carl got up and walked around his desk and opened the door of the credenza, retrieved the envelope and handed it to Lucas.

Lucas opened the envelope and slid the contents out onto the table. There was no job application or resume, which did not surprise him. There was a short bio that must have been used for introductions when Swensen was speaking. There was a citation from the Boy Scouts of America for his service as Commissioner. Seeing the citation caused Lucas to pick up the bio and see that Stephen Swensen was an Eagle Scout. He put the sheet back in the envelope.

Carl sat quietly and finally said, “What do you think?”

“Do you know any more about how Swensen died? I mean the boat accident.”

“No, just what was reported in the Waukesha newspaper. As I recall, it said he fell off his jet ski and was hit by another boat.”

“Carl, we appreciate the opportunity to work for you, but my recommendation is that we delay the team building until I have done more investigation of your managers and their connection to Swensen.”

“But you and Terry made such a big deal about getting the team building going.”

“Yes, we did. If we delay for a month or so we may find out there is much more to the managers’ behavior.  I suspect that Swensen may have been deliberately killed.”

“Lucas, I’ve always thought the details of his death were sketchy. I was told his wife accused him of having a boyfriend.”

“I suspect Swensen was child molester.” Lucas told Carl about what Bret had said. He also told him about getting into the locked room.  Lucas could see that Carl was fuming. He said, “I’m sorry Carl for invading your privacy.”

“It’s not that, I am mad at myself for  buying the house. Do you think he molested kids in the house?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think we have more investigating to do before we do the retreat. I think you should send an apology to your managers, telling them that you have decided to delay the team building session.” Carl called Jeff, his assistant, and asked him to let the managers know about the delay.

Carl left to get a cup of coffee for himself and Lucas as they sat in his office.  “Lucas, do you want to stay at my place tonight? “
“Works for me. Terry’s still away, so delaying the session will work fine, because he’s much better at facilitating the sessions than I am.”

Jeff walked in with the other personnel files and laid them on the table. He was curious and asked Lucas, “What are you looking for?”

“It's part of the preparation for the team building. I’m reviewing the contents before our retreat. ”

Jeff said, “Carl asked me to cancel the retreat!”

“Only temporarily. Thanks for bringing the files. I noticed that Mr. Swensen was active in Boy Scouts. Were you ever a boy scout?”

His face reddened and he said, “Yeah, for a little while. I didn’t like it though.” Sensing his warmed face, Jeff turned and walked out of the room.

Carl, who had been standing to the side, placed the coffee cups on the table, “You seem to be focused on the Boy Scout thing.”

“Remember I commented on how your managers were close to the same age and had similar Scandinavian features?  I am suspecting that many were involved in scouting. Let’s look at Mr. Jones. Here’s a complete resume and a completed job applications plus three typed references from the executive search firm.” 

“I hired him right after I arrived, because I had lost my supply guy to another firm. He is definitely not Scandinavian. He was the one manager who said he couldn’t come to the team building because of a family wedding.”

Lucas said, “Let’s look at Bjorn Swenson’s file.” Opening the thin, file they discovered an offer letter dated four years earlier with no resume or job application. There was nothing relating to Scouting in his file. The next file on Mr. Waldron, the CFO, was more complete, with a resume and job application form but no references. The offer letter mentioned his association with the Boy Scouts Council. Lucas closed the Waldron file and said to Carl, “I suspect there is a Scouting connection to every one of your managers.”     

“Isn’t that good? Scouting is a good place to learn responsibility and leadership.”

“But, Carl, I think the leaders were interested in something other than leadership in Scouting. When we go back to your house, I want to show you something.  Let’s have Jeff take these files back to HR. I’m going to go to the Waukesha Public Library to see what exactly the newspaper reported about Swensen’s death. What time do you want me to come to your house?”

Carl got interrupted by a phone call and didn’t answer as Lucas gathered up the files and put them on Jeff’s desk. Lucas picked up his cell phone and dialed Terry, who answered on a second ring, “What’s up? Really tense around here. Mom’s not getting better. I’m really concerned. Can we talk later?”

“Sure, wanted you to know the Moraine session has been delayed. I’ll tell you the details later,” was all Lucas could get out before Terry hung up.

At the library he asked the librarian for microfiche files of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel around the time of Swensen’s death. Lucas found three articles saying basically the same thing.  Each reported that Swensen was an outstanding athlete from Bishop Walker High School; scholarship recipient at University of Wisconsin, Madison; Eagle Scout; member of the Council leadership team and former president of the Chamber of Commerce. The details of his death included a brief description of the boating accident in Vilas County.  Lucas copied one of the articles.