“No thanks. Hey, you know better than to say the ‘Q word’ when we’re on duty.”
He chuckled then disconnected.
And doggone it if five minutes later I didn’t get busy with one call on top of another until the end of my shift. My first week on the job I was warned never to utter the word “quiet” out loud at work, and I never had.
27
At the end of my shift, I decided to swing by the three burned-barns properties before heading home. No one had reported seeing any suspicious activity in the township, but someone had committed three acts of arson.
And then we had the odd rabbit deliveries. Was there a link between the two? But Weber lived in town, not in the township, so how might they be connected? It was a conundrum at that point. When I got home, I’d see if any of the other deputies had responded to Smoke’s email about the unwanted gift.
I stopped some distance from the Hardings’. If Sybil was still there, she’d wonder why I was sitting in my car staring at the farm. Admittedly, it would be unnerving if a cop did that to me. Every case I worked, I was inevitably drawn back to the crime scene again and again. I visually perused the surrounding area. Much of the land was open fields and pasture with windbreaks of trees in the back.
I drove down Collins to Woody Nevins’ place and again kept enough distance so he wouldn’t see me if he looked out his window. We would learn more about the victim in the barn and the cause of his death soon. I was relieved Smoke gave me a pass on witnessing the autopsy. The image of “The Scream” had been in my head since we’d turned the victim over, and the thought of seeing it again made me slightly squeamish. Okay, immensely squeamish. Smoke understood that about me.
I scrutinized the dry earth. The lack of footprints or vehicle tracks around the crime scenes got increasingly maddening and frightening with each fire. How were we going to nail down the firesetter’s identity? Was he done now, or were the fires of the three barns that once belonged to sisters, truly a happenstance after all? Would he keep going, lighting old barns on fire until we finally caught up with him?
I conducted a mental survey of barns that no longer housed animals in the township and came up with a few, but there were likely others I didn’t know about. And many, many more in the whole of Winnebago County. I turned around, headed back to Ames Avenue, and drove past the Simmonds’ house. A Buick with Wisconsin license plates was parked in the driveway. It gave me hope the family was reconciling. And better yet, bringing to light the dark secret that had torn them apart in the first place.
Ten minutes later, I was out of my uniform and changed into a pair of shorts and tank top. Ditching the twenty pounds of equipment weight gave me immediate relief and made me feel about twenty degrees cooler besides. I grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator then filled a dish of fresh water for Queenie and carried it outside. She was running around, stopping to sniff the ground here and there. When she noticed me, she joined me on the deck, took a long drink, and then sat beside me begging for some attention. “You’re warm, girl. You need to cool off for a while. We both do.”
The temperature was in the high eighties, but the clouds helped temper the intensity of the sun. I pulled out my phone and checked the weather forecast. Possible thunderstorms tomorrow afternoon. Half the state was praying for rain. I signed into my work account and scrolled through the list of messages looking for the one from Smoke about the rabbits.
That’s when I saw the ‘Reply All’ response from Todd Mason. He’d found a dead rabbit on his steps about two weeks before. That was around the same time Weber had gotten his. Mason said he buried it before his kids got up and saw it because they would have felt bad for the little bunny.
Smoke hadn’t yet replied, so I found Todd Mason in my phone contacts and dialed his number. I disconnected when it went to voicemail. On a Sunday afternoon, he needed family time. I’d catch him at work tomorrow.
I wondered if Vince Weber had seen the emails from Smoke and Mason, and asked him via text. He called me a second later. “What emails?”
“Sorry Vince, my bad. I meant to tell you. I ran into Smoke first thing this morning, and he’d been gifted with a rabbit during the night—”
“No shit?”
“He sent out a blast email to see if others had too, and I see Mason got one too, a couple of weeks ago.”
“Geez Louise. A couple of weeks, huh?”
“You think we can officially rule out Darcie now?” I said.
“Probably. So who’s leaving the rabbits?”
“Nothing about that makes sense to me.”
“No. So there’s four of us that we know of. So far. The only thing we all got in common is we’re sworn deputies serving in the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Office,” he said.
“We’ll have to put our heads together about that one. We’ve worked a lot of cases over the years. Could one of them have triggered this bizarre reaction in someone?”
“You got me there. Oh, to let you know I have not gotten a single phone call or text message from Darcie today.”
“Wow, you must have put the fear of God into her last night.”
“Yeah well, thanks for making me talk to her,” he said.
“Sure thing. See ya.”
I phoned John Carl next. “Hello, Corky,” he said.
“Hey, just checking in, seeing how your moving plans are coming along. And no, I’m not trying to snoop about your date with my BFF Sara.”
“Okay. Plans are coming along. Sara’s helping me here at our grandparents’ house . . . I guess I can start saying my house, huh?”
Sara was there again? “Good. I think it’s kind of exciting you’re sprucing up the old house. What’d did you decide to do about the floors?” I said.
“We’ll start with the main level first—rip out the carpet to expose the maple hardwood floor underneath. It sounds like Grandpa and Grandma won’t be taking much of their furniture, so they said if I want to start refinishing the floors I should move everything out to their shed.”
“I heard that, too. About the furniture.”
“They want us to divide up what they don’t take.”
“John Carl? I think we should bring Taylor in on that. She’s as much their grandchild as we are.”
“That’s fine by me. I have the house, so if you and Taylor want all the furniture I’d be cool with that,” he said.
“We’ll see. When are you going to start on the floors?”
“I have someone coming to give me an estimate tomorrow. We’re actually working on moving the furniture out now.”
“Just the two of you?” I said.
“I have a dolly.”
“I can come over and help.”
“I don’t want to make you do that.”
“You’d be doing me a favor. I could really use the distraction.”
“Mom and I talked about the barn fires around here. We know how obsessed you get about solving crimes,” he said.
“That’s part of the job. See you in a few then?”
“Sure.”
“Queenie, let’s head over to the Alecksons’. I’ll get my running shoes.”
A few minutes later, we were on Brandt Avenue gently jogging south toward my grandparents’ house. They were on the same side of the road as I was, a half mile away. They had given me twenty acres of their 1,600-acre farm, and I loved living there.
I thought about John Carl. He and I were not just opposites in looks—he was tall with dark brown hair and eyes like our father’s. I was average height, small-boned with blonde hair like our mother’s—we also had polar opposite personalities. John Carl was sober and studious. And he’d felt more stifled in his pursuits than I had during our younger years with Mother and both sets of grandparents all living within a mile of each other.
I’d been more independent and adventuresome growing up and had learned to take our mother’s hovering protectiveness more in stride than John Carl had. Most of the time, anyway. I’d rebelled a
gainst my mother more than I should have and turned to my grandparents for refuge and support from time to time. I was especially close to Grandma Aleckson. We had like personalities, and she understood me like no other. But I loved my grandfathers and my Gram Brandt equally as much, and the saddest day of my life was when Gram passed on a few years before. I missed her every day.
I was turning into the grandparents’ driveway when I saw someone a distance away coming toward me on a bicycle. If I hadn’t seen Sybil riding that morning, I wouldn’t have known who it was. Her head was bent over like she was watching the road, a good idea on gravel. I didn’t want Queenie to get excited, so we headed down the driveway without calling out to her. Sybil said she loved riding.
I knocked on the door of the house and yelled, “Hello,” before barging in. “I hope it’s okay that Queenie came with me.”
Sara and John Carl were on opposite sides of the dining room table carrying it out of the room. I was struck by what a nice looking couple they were.
“Set her down,” Sara said, and they did. “Reinforcements are here. Hi, Cork.”
“Hey. You guys should take a water break. You look hot.”
Queenie ran first to Sara then to John Carl for a little head scratching.
“I suppose,” John Carl said.
I followed them to the kitchen, and we helped ourselves to bottles of water. “Sara, how did John Carl rope you into this?”
She chuckled. “It was more like the other way around. I wanted to see what the hardwood floors looked like so we decided to clear out the room and pull up the carpet. I have a friend who does floors and called him. He’s swinging over tomorrow.”
“Sweet. It’ll be nice to get rid of the carpet. They put it down because it was easier for Grandma to clean, but John Carl’s so rich he’ll probably hire a cleaning service.” I loved giving him a hard time, except he choked on his water when I said it. I gave him a swat on the back.
“Corky, you’re pretty rough on your brother,” Sara scolded.
I held my hands up in surrender. “I apologize. Put me to work, tell me what to do.”
“You can carry the chairs out,” John Carl said.
“I know their condo won’t be ready until August first, but since they spend July at that resort, I’m surprised they didn’t finish sorting and packing before they left. No offense to our grandparents.” I picked up a sturdy dining chair and headed toward the door.
“Mother said it was because they didn’t know how much would fit in there. And they have done a lot of purging,” John Carl said.
“Speaking of Mother, where is she today?”
“Home, cooking. She said you’re getting too skinny.”
Score one point for John Carl. “Good one, brother.” And then I took a quick glance down at my midsection. I guess I had lost a little weight.
We spent the next hour carrying the most easily-moveable furniture pieces to the shed that had once served as a sheep barn. Their main barn housed milk cows back in the day. It wasn’t quite as unique as the one my great grandfather had built—the one my mother had converted into a cool place to entertain—but it had the same old-world charm. I went over to the barn, slid open the door on the front side of it, and stepped in, appreciating the drop in temperature from the outdoors. Queenie followed me in a moment later. I looked at the stalls where the cows had rested and the milking stations where my grandparents worked diligently twice a day, supplying the local creamery with quality milk, and earning a good living in the process. I had fond memories of watching them and pitching in myself as much as I could.
My phone rang as I was closing the door. Smoke. “Hello, Detective.”
“Corinne. You busy?”
“I was helping John Carl and Sara move furniture, but we’re about done.”
“It’s John Carl and Sara now?” he said.
“It seems like it. And it feels a little strange and natural at the same time.”
“I’m back in town and thought I’d give you a verbal report on the autopsy, but it sounds like you’re busy.”
“Where are you?” I said.
“At the office.”
“If you want to swing by my house, I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“That works. Oh, and Mason called me. He had a rabbit delivery on his doorstep, too.”
“I saw his email, and I’ve already talked to Weber about it. We agree that likely rules Darcie out as the culprit. But who is it, and what kind of message are they trying to send us?”
“We know it’s someone that dresses like a beekeeper. At least once, that is. Who was under that garb and why? I have not a single clue,” he said.
“I’ll get Queenie and see you in a few.”
We hung up, and I found John Carl and Sara drinking another bottle of water in the kitchen. “I’m going to take off, guys.”
“Thanks for helping, Corky.” John Carl smiled at me with his teeth showing and everything.
It made me smile too. Sara was a having a positive effect on him. There had been a measure of sadness around him since his marriage failed, and we had all prayed he’d have joy in his life again.
When Queenie and I started for home, I had the strange feeling that someone was watching us. Little shivers danced up and down my spine and pushed me to run a little faster until Queenie started panting. I slowed down and turned my head very slightly right, then left, to see if I spotted a person or other creature. Nothing apparent. I told myself Queenie would be alerted if someone was lurking, wouldn’t she?
Smoke was standing by his car in my driveway when we got there. Having him nearby made me feel better in a flash. Secure. Protected. Safe.
“Is everything okay? You’ve got a funny look on your face.” I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. “Okay, okay. Now you have a goofy look on your face.”
I shrugged. “It’s probably nothing, but I got that creepy I’m-being-watched feeling on the run home.”
“More of your doo-doo-doo-doo, huh? Want me to take a drive, check things out?”
“No. Like we’ve talked about before, it could be an animal out there. Maybe a wolf.” I looked down at his hand. “I see you have the envelope.”
“Yeah, some pictures you probably don’t want to see, but my notes you will.”
I punched in the code to open the garage door, and when it lifted we headed inside. “Want something to drink?”
“Got a soda?” he said.
“You never drink sodas,” I said.
“I need a pick-me-up.”
“No pop, but I have some sweetened iced tea that’s really good.”
“Okay.” I found him one and handed it over. He read the label then opened the lid and took a gulp. “That is good. Thanks.”
I filled a glass with water for myself and drank the whole thing before coming up for air.
“I don’t know how you do that,” he said. He sat down on a stool at my island counter, and as he was pulling papers out of the envelope my mother called on my landline. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello dear, I was hoping you were home. I’ve been craving seafood salad lately and finally made some today. Of course I ended up with way too much, even for Gramps and John Carl and me. Can I drop a bowl off for you?”
“Sure. I’d love some.” Had I eaten lunch? Ah, no.
“And lemon chicken and fresh green beans out of the garden.”
“Sounds nummy. Oh, and Smoke just stopped by with a file I needed to look at.”
“There’ll be plenty for him too, if he wants any. I’ll be by in about ten minutes,” she said.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“So your mother is cooking again, eh?”
“Yes. It’s a huge relief that she’s healing.”
“No doubt.” Smoke pulled his reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on. I sat on the stool next to him as he sorted through his notes and printouts of the photos he’d taken during the autopsy.
After seeing the condition of the b
ody after the fire, it was a little less shocking looking at the photos. But I didn’t feel the need to closely study any of them, either.
“Cause of death?” I said.
“Smoke inhalation. It’ll take a couple of weeks for the toxicology report, but they’ll run the blood alcohol test either tomorrow or the next day. That empty booze bottle at the scene makes me wonder how much he drank, how impaired he was. That may have been a contributing factor.”
“For sure. I had a thought on the way home. When I stopped Ross Warren the other day, he was on his way toward Emerald Lake. We should check in with some of the business owners there, find out if they recognize him and if he’s been in more than once.”
“Sounds like a plan. Especially the gas stations and the grocery and liquor stores. Sheriff thought I should take tomorrow off, but I got way too many irons in the fire.” I tapped his arm at the word “fire.” He shrugged. “I’ll find a better day to stay home.”
“You are in the thick of things, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, and since the sheriff called, I asked if he’d tell the other area cars to take a few tours through Blackwood Township and he agreed, so that saves you a call.”
“Thanks. And ‘fingers crossed’ we won’t need them,” I said.
“Fingers crossed.”
Queenie barked, announcing my mother’s arrival. I got up to help her. “You better put those photos away. Mother won’t sleep the rest of the week if she catches a glimpse.”
Smoke nodded, gathered them up, and slid them into hiding. I opened the door to the garage, and my mother was already on the mat holding a bowl. And David Fryor was behind her with a small box. David Fryor. She could have warned me.
“Hello,” I said, trying not to look surprised.
“Look who stopped by as I was loading the car,” Mother said.
I sort of smiled. “Nice to see you, David. Here let me take that.” I reached out and lifted the bowl out of my mother’s hands. “Come in. Smoke, say hi to David Fryor. You can set that on the counter, David.”
Firesetter in Blackwood Township, a Winnebago County Mystery Page 18
