by Bettie Jane
Sadie stood staring at the note. She cursed herself for not being with him, but thought of little Jemmie and knew this is where Daniel would want her to be. At least he was in good hands, being attended to at the hospital. Better safe than sorry. That’s what her Mama always said. Ironically, her mother had waited too long to get medical attention and paid the price for her delay with her life.
Grateful that Doctor Walker had taken the time to stop by and offere his advice, she shook her head and pushed the dread away and continued taking her wet clothes off. There was nothing she could do for Daniel. Olivia had made the right choice and it was actually a bit of a relief knowing that he was en route to a hospital. She wasn’t the praying sort, but she sent a wish out into the universe for her husband’s safe return and for Jemmie’s safety.
And for safety on the river.
Sadie changed into another pair of dry pants and a warm shirt. She had another coat in her closet, but it was one for a formal occasion so she borrowed one of Daniel’s older coats. It was big on her, but very warm plus she felt close to Daniel which her frayed nerves definitely needed at this point.
Her thoughts turned toward what she could do something about and that was the investigation. She knew in her bones that Olga and Pete both knew at least something that would help her find Jemmie.
She was tempted to think ‘find out what happened to Jemmie’ but that sounded too final and she was determined to find him alive. She wouldn’t give up hope, for either Daniel or Jemmie, because hope was the fuel she needed to keep moving.
In her estimation, Carl Collins was working for someone and that someone had killed him once the boy was kidnapped and the ransom in progress. Had they killed him because he’d failed to get both boys or had they killed him because he was no longer useful and a witness to the larger scheme? Either way, now that Carl was dead, Sadie hoped she could get more information out of Olga. Any loyalty she’d had toward protecting him should be gone now that Carl was a corpse.
And Pete. She’d not sensed that Pete was holding back, but the connection between Carl and Pete, plus finding Pete’s car at the scene, plus his recent termination at the hands of Oscar Brix had him wrapped up entirely too much for his involvement in this to be merely coincidence.
Had he been working with Carl to get back at Oscar for firing him? She allowed herself one last moment of wishing that her husband was here to give her insight, then she closed that door.
If wishes were wings, pigs could fly. No sense wasting time on ineffectual childish wishes.
She looked at the clock on her way out the door. It was 9pm. It looked and felt more like midnight as was typical for a Pacific Northwest winter night. Grateful for the food in her belly from Sam Ostervold, she pocketed a leather flask full of bourbon. It was likely to be a long, even colder night.
She scribbled a note for Olivia and Daniel, although she didn’t think they’d be returning from Astoria anytime soon. Still, it seemed right to communicate with them as Olivia had with her.
She made a mental note to try and be kinder to Daniel’s daughter and shivered on her way out the door into the frigid night.
Next stop, Olga Svenson. She would get answers whatever it took.
12
Once in the truck with Enoch, Olivia forcibly left all thoughts of Daniel tucked away tight.
“Enoch, thank you for driving me around. I must say it’s been nice having company during this.”
“It’s my pleasure, Ma’am—er, Sadie.”
Sadie laughed. Every time he slipped up and called her ma’am and then corrected himself, it grounded her just a bit and kept her from getting overwhelmed. She’d have to thank him later for that bit of levity.
“Do you need to stop by home for anything?”
“No. The temperature is dropping with every passing hour and if by chance the boy is out in the elements, our clock is definitely running down.”
“I agree. Along those lines, I don’t intend to go easy on Olga. I’m certain she knows something about Carl’s involvement in all of this and I will find out what she knows. I’m hopeful that just learning of Carl’s death will motivate her to tell us what she knows, but if she won’t—well, let’s just say that I learned a few things working in my father’s tavern and I’ll use whatever methods are necessary in order to find Jemmie. If that makes you uncomfortable, you are welcome to stay in the truck.”
“No, ma’—no. I don’t take to violence against women or children, but we’ll save this boy. Whatever it takes.”
“Glad to hear it. Do you know anything at all about Carl and his relationship with Olga? How long it’s been going on? Or if Olga has any direct connection to Pete?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. Just what we learned earlier today.”
“And what of Pete’s reputation?”
“A good christian man from what I know of him. His family never misses a Sunday church meeting. He and his wife have been married near twenty years I guess it is now. With three, maybe four, children of their own. I suppose my wife would have more information. You know how the women in this town love to gossip. Seems nobody can take a breath without a neighbor learning of it.”
“Ah, yes. Unfortunately, I do know. That Margaret Butler has given me a crash course in the mood of this town.”
“She’s Pete’s great aunt, did you know that?”
“I didn’t know. Maybe that will come in handy for us? Not that I suspect she’d be too forthcoming with family matters especially with the likes of me.”
Thoughts of Margaret dissipated like an elusive veil of fog when Enoch’s headlights passed over Olga’s front door.
The door was wide open and Sadie could see from the inside of the truck that snow was piling up inside the doorway.
“Dammit.”
As soon as the truck came to a stop, they both jumped out and jogged toward the open door.
“This can’t be good,” Enoch said.
“No. Not for Olga or for our search for Jemmie.”
“Olga, are you here?” Sadie knocked on the door and called out as she stepped over the small snowdrift that had accumulated. The small apartment, if it could be called that—it really resembled more of a shack than anything—was black as pitch. Whatever happened here must have happened before dark since no lights had been turned out. Nightfall was around 4:30pm this time of year.
She felt around for a lamp and fumbled with the knob to turn it on.
A kitchen chair was turned on its side and their were shards of broken ceramic on the floor. The remnants of a vase or a bowl, perhaps? It was in too many pieces to tell what it had been before it made contact with the dirty wood plank floors.
“Olga?”
“I’ll go down the hall. I’ve been in these units before,” Enoch said, “and they all have a similar layout. A small sitting room off the kitchen and down the hall a bathroom and a single bedroom. Some of the units have a second bedroom, but I think this is one of the smaller units. Whoever did this is long gone.”
“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”
There was nothing else to see in the kitchen/sitting room area. This one obvious evidence of struggle in the kitchen, but nothing else.
She followed Enoch down the hall, who’d found and turned on another light.
“Miss Svenson,” he called out, his deep baritone voice echoing through the empty hall. The house felt empty. They both peered into the bathroom when they came upon it but it was empty.
Sadie gasped.
On the floor of the tiny, rather filthy room was a massive pool of dried and drying blood.
“I think we found where Carl was killed,” Sadie whispered.
Strange, she thought, looking past the puddle of blood she noticed how filthy the grime in the bathtub was and how the area around the toilet was caked with dried urine and fresh blood. The bathroom looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. It surprised her that her eyes focused on the filth and avoided the blood.
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The smell of drying blood was strong, but not likely as strong as it would have been on a hot day. For the first time today, she was grateful for the cold.
Idly, Sadie’s brain drifted through several thoughts.
Housekeeping was apparently not one of Olga’s skills. Sadie doubted that dishes and laundry were the basis of whatever relationship Carl and Olga had.
Had Olga killed him?
“What do you think happened here Enoch?”
He shrugged, eyeing the dried blood on the toilet. “This must be where he was hit in the head. Some sort of struggle. The bathroom mirror is cracked with more dried blood. Is that also Carl’s blood or someone else’s? Whatever happened here was rather violent. I suppose that goes without saying. A man is dead.”
Sadie’s eyes drifted to a smudge of crusty blood on the wall, about at her waist.
“Enoch, does that look like a hand print to you?”
Enoch leaned in and nodded his head, frowning.
Sadie said, “That’s awfully small to be a Carl’s, or even Olga’s. I think it’s a child.”
“Lord, I hope that’s not Jemmie’s hand,” Enoch said. “Or any of this blood.”
Sadie had a sinking sensation in her stomach. Jemmie had likely at least been here when Carl was killed. Was he hurt?
They both avoided talking about Jemmie. The possibility that Jemmie and Carl had met a similar fate was too horrible to discuss out loud.
They’d had Henrietta’s recent contact with Jemmie to help from thinking the worst.
Enoch cleared his throat. “Perhaps Carl and Olga were in a fight and his head hit the toilet?”
“If so, where is Olga now?”
“Let’s check the bedroom.”
Sadie nodded grimly. “I shudder to think what we might find in there. What a terrible day this is turning out to be.”
Enoch continued down the hall with Sadie right behind him. She looked back over her shoulder every now and then, making certain nobody was sneaking up on her. It wasn’t likely, but this house felt scary, somehow.
As they moved toward the bedroom, Sadie saw a lone tattered oil painting of a Great Blue Heron that hung crooked on the wall, barely dangling, and a single woman’s shoe lay on its side on the floor in the doorway to the bedroom.
Not as obvious as the broken glass and overturned chair in the kitchen or the blood soaked bathroom, but still a subtle sign of some kind of struggle.
Enoch turned the corner first and, pausing in the doorway, fumbled around for a light switch. He clicked it once and stepped further into the bedroom. As soon as the room was illuminated and he was fully inside, Enoch gasped and stopped in his tracks. He stopped so suddenly that Sadie ran right into his back. She stepped around to the side of him so she could see what had caused Enoch’s reaction.
Her thoughts slowed along with the clock. Please don’t let it be Jemmie. Please.
The room was small with an unmade bed in the center. On the floor on the other side of the bed, a pair of women’s feet stuck out from the side of the bed. They both stood still for a moment just taking in what they were seeing. There was blood spattered on the wall and window.
“I suppose we’ve found Olga, but she’ll not be much help to us now.” His voice was tense and frustrated.
Sadie touched Enoch’s arm. “I’m going to take a closer look.”
After all, she was the deputy, the official law in the room, and this was obviously another murder.
Another two steps forward and Sadie could see the body sprawled out on the floor with an obvious gunshot to the chest.
“It’s not Olga, Enoch.”
She heard him step closer.
“Muriel?” Enoch sounded completely surprised.
“Pete’s wife?”
“Yes.”
Sadie shook her head, perplexed. “What in hell is going on here? A kidnapping and now not one but two murders. With Pete Phillips smack in the middle of all of it.”
“Who killed Muriel? Same person who killed Carl? Pete?”
Enoch just shook his head.
Sadie’s thoughts raced in her head. Obviously the medical examiner needed to be called again. She’d have to take care of that when she got back to town. There was no phone in Olga’s unit.
Was there anything here that would help her find Jemmie?
She looked around, trying to put herself in her husband’s sherriff shoes. Besides the body and the blood, nothing else seemed out of place.
She shook her head in frustration. “I need to talk to Pete Phillips. Right now. And I want to where Olga is? Did she do this? Was she acquainted with Muriel somehow?”
“I’ll drive. As to your other question, I wish I knew.”
“Being part of the women’s circle would come in very handy right about now.”
Sadie made her way through the tiny apartment with Enoch on her heels. Once outside, Sadie pulled the door closed. Hopefully Muriel’s body wouldn’t be disturbed in the time it took for Dr. Walker to make it out here.
“So much for Daniel’s insistence on this close knit, peaceful community. Whatever happened here must have been horrific. And still no sign of Jemmie. At this point, I’m just grateful we haven’t stumbled upon his body.”
The rough rumble of Enoch’s truck engine when it fired up sounded angry and matched Sadie’s mood. She wasn’t entirely who she felt like strangling, but someone.
Someone had it coming.
13
Enoch drove too fast but not quick enough down the gravel “road” that led from Swedetown, outside Skamokawa, to Cathlamet. There was a bit of slipping and sliding, but his truck mostly managed just fine.
“We keep arriving too late to find anyone alive to answer our questions. As much as I worry about that happening again with any kind of delay, let’s stop by Brix House before we go to Pete’s. I know it’s quite out of the way, but I need to alert the medical examiner and while I’m there, I want to talk a bit more with Oscar about his strained relationship with Pete. I’m also wondering if Henrietta might have some inside scoop on the ladies gossip that could give us some insight into any connection between Olga and Muriel. I need to understand why Muriel would be at Olga’s. I don’t need the medical examiner this time, though, to tell me that she was killed where we found her.”
“It’s a good plan. You don’t seem as though you need it, but I’d like to tell you still that you are doing an excellent job. When your husband hears of your efforts for little Jemmie, well, I wouldn’t bet against him making you a permanent member of the sherriff’s office.”
Sadie laughed an empty laugh. “I don’t know about all of that, but I do appreciate your support. You, Gus, William…if you hadn’t backed me, I don’t know that we’d have gotten further than that initial visit to Brix House. The Birnie’s, excepting Gus, didn’t seem to keen about my standing in for Daniel.”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Birnie does love to throw the weight of his fortune and his family’s legacy as a founding member of the county into the faces of most anyone who will allow it. I have all the confidence that you can hold your own, with him or anyone else that we come across. In fact, I feel a bit sorry for Pete when we finally do catch up with him. No doubt he’s involved, at least at some level. I’m actually a bit concerned that Oscar might take matters into his own hands if he knows what we do.”
Sadie chewed her bottom lip. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about. He tried to assure me that he didn’t have money problems and that the stack of past due invoices were only a product of Pete’s negligence. I have a bit of a nagging suspicion though that there is perhaps more to the story. Whether or not it has something to do with Jemmie’s kidnapping, I cannot say, but something about the situation doesn’t sit right.”
“Agreed. Once again we are on the same page.”
“Do you think that Henrietta is aware that there is some financial issue? Is she involved in any of his business dealings?”
“I’d be surprised i
f she was.”
“So would I.”
They pulled up to Brix House, having thankfully arrived without the disadvantage of a flat tire this time, and Sadie took a deep breath, walked up the steps, and once again the housekeeper Anna opened the door before she even had a chance to knock.
“Welcome, Mrs. Anderson. Would you like me to get Mr. Brix for you? I think he’s in his study.”
“Actually, no. I’d like to speak with Henrietta. Enoch, would you be so kind as to call Dr. Walker and update him? He’s staying with the Marshall’s.”
She’d decided to try and keep the discovery of Muriel’s body a secret for now. Another murder would only heighten the Brix family’s already very tense nerves. At least she’d try.
“I’ll show you to the phone, Mr. Redmond,” Anna said. Then, to Sadie, “Mrs. Brix is in the sitting room. Go on in.”
“Thank you, Anna.”
Sadie found Henrietta in the sitting room, where they’d met earlier. If it was possible, Henrietta looked even more drawn, pale, and exhausted than she had this afternoon.
She sat on the couch by herself staring out the window at the black night. Sadie allowed herself a glance at the spot Henrietta stared at and saw that the distraught mother was looking at nothing but blackness. Which was probably exactly how she felt inside.
Sadie cleared her throat to get her attention, but Henrietta appeared not to notice.
“Henrietta?”
Back from wherever she’d been inside her mind, she forced a smile to her face and Sadie hated to see the bit of hope that appeared on her face. Hated that she’d have to dash it in the next instant.
“I’m sorry, Henrietta. We haven’t found him yet. I need to ask you a few questions. We’ve learned some things in our search that I need some clarification on.”
Just as she’d known it would, hope left her features and despair and anguish was all that was left to be discerned in Henerietta’s facial expression.
“What questions do you have for me?”
“First, has there been any additional contact from the kidnappers since they demanded the $100,000?”
