Convergence at Two Harbors
Page 7
Mary could only mumble, “That would be nice.”
It was a silent ride into Two Harbors that night. Deidre phoned ahead to make sure someone would be waiting at the shelter.
Over the next days, Mary was well taken care of, and she told anyone who would listen about how Deidre had rescued her family. Deidre’s reputation grew.
Six months after being hired, Deidre and another deputy arrived at the scene of a fender-bender at the intersection of Seventh Avenue and Waterfront Drive. It was a minor mishap, no injuries, only bruised egos. One of the cars had its front fender caved in, and it was pressed against the tire so it couldn’t be driven away. The situation was handled with no problem, and while they waited for a wrecker to come tow the disabled car to a garage down the street, Deidre and the other deputy, Jeff, had time for some small talk.
“Our department sure has a thing for homegrown talent,” Jeff stated with a little displeasure in his voice.
Deidre bristled for an instant. Then she asked, “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, first it was you,” but he paused when he saw the fire building in Deidre’s eyes. “I mean they hired you, and …” Jeff knew he was digging the hole deeper. Finally he said, “Oh, hell. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You’ve done a great job in a tough situation. I mean, now that they’ve hired another hometown boy, along with the other two on the force before you were hired, we seem to be a little lopsided with Lake County people.”
Deidre looked surprised. “I didn’t know they had hired someone. I thought they’d take a little more time. The posting closed only yesterday.”
“That’s what I mean,” Jeff shrugged. “It seems they rushed their decision through awfully fast.”
“Do you know who they hired?” Deidre asked, eager to catch up on the department gossip.
“Ben something-or-other. VanBotton, VanGotter. I don’t remember exactly, but it’s something like that.”
Deidre looked at Jeff with disbelief. “VanGotten,” she said, hoping it wasn’t him.
“Yea, that’s it. Do you know him?”
Deidre pulled her hair back with both hands. “A little,” was all she said, but inside she knew Ben hadn’t forgotten her and why it had taken him three months longer to graduate from the academy than it had the rest of the class.
The wrecker arrived, and Jeff and Deidre were too busy directing traffic to chat any longer, but Deidre was mulling over what the hiring of Ben would mean for her. By the time the wrecker lumbered away with the car and her shift was over, Deidre had conjured up all kinds of scenarios of what life would be like on the force with Ben Van Gotten around. Maybe she could request shifts opposite his. In the end, she decided to ride out any storm and let the situation work itself out.
The following Monday, the deputies met at seven o’clock in the morning. The night shift was ending, and the day shift was just coming on. Deidre had gotten used to the schedule: coffee and a sweet roll, staff meeting, reports filed, then either go home and get some sleep or go out on patrol.
This morning was different. The new deputy was joining the group. Deidre stood back, not wanting to be in a situation where she would be forced to speak to Ben. Once she caught him looking at her, and his eyes narrowed reflexively.
Sheriff Thorton entered the meeting room, the same one where Deidre had been interviewed. “Good morning, everyone. Please, take a seat.”
Deidre pulled up a chair at the end of the table away from Ben.
“I’d like to introduce the newest member of our force, Ben VanGotten. Ben and Deidre were classmates in college and also at the academy. Ben had an unfortunate accident, broke his foot during a training exercise, or they would have graduated together. Welcome aboard, Ben.”
Everyone gave Ben a round of applause. Deidre’s hands hardly made contact with each other, and she was the first one to lower them to her lap. Ben’s face was crimson by now. The others thought it was out of shyness, but Deidre knew better. She knew Ben had not forgiven or forgotten. Neither had she.
After that introductory meeting, Deidre avoided Ben as best she could. He wanted nothing to do with her either. They worked together, each behaving the way professionals should, but the air was definitely icy when the two of them were in the same room.
One day Jeff, the officer who had sprung the news about Ben that day of the traffic accident, and Deidre were alone in the meeting room, looking over the next month’s schedule.
“Deidre, is it just me, or do you and Ben have something going on between the two of you?”
Deidre flared. “What do you mean by that? Are you trying to start some sort of office gossip about the two of us? We’re hardly able to stomach each other, let alone have something going on between us.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute, Deidre. What I meant was, is there some kind of bad blood between the two of you? I sense it, and so do the others. I’m just curious.”
Deidre looked at Jeff for a few seconds before answering. “You know how it is, Jeff. Oil and water will never mix.”
Chapter Fourteen
One Monday morning at their weekly meeting, Sheriff Thorton came in late. His deputies were getting a little restless, anxious to be off on their beats or to go home. When he entered the room, he looked tired.
“It seems like I have been at this job an awfully long time.” He paused to swallow hard before continuing. “I’ve decided not to run for re-election again.” He cleared his throat. “It has been a privilege to work with each of you. Every one of you has strong talents that, when blended, have made this force effective. I know we haven’t had any extremely difficult cases in our time together, but I have complete confidence that we could have handled just about anything.”
Sheriff Thorton paused again to settle his voice. “I know some of you will make a run for this position, and I wholeheartedly want you to do that. In fact, I encourage you to. I will say, I’m not going to endorse one of you over another, because I have utmost respect for each of you.” He cleared his throat again before continuing. “Now, let’s get on with our reports.”
The deputies had a difficult time keeping their minds on business. Ben had made his decision the moment he grasped what the sheriff was saying. Two others were thinking about the possibility, and the remaining deputies were wondering what it would be like to work under another person other than Thorton. Deidre put those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on the business at hand.
After the meeting was adjourned, the deputies stood around in small groups mulling over what had transpired. Ben sounded like he was already politicking. Deidre started to leave the room, and Jeff hurried to catch up with her in the hall.
“Your going to make a try for it, aren’t you?” he asked. Deidre looked at him in disbelief, but Jeff’s eyes told her he wasn’t joking.
She paused, and for the first time allowed her mind to go there. “No, I don’t think I want the job. I like what I do, and, frankly, I’m not sure I could herd this bunch of cats,” and she laughed, but she meant what she said. “What about you, Jeff? I think you’d be a good fit, don’t you?”
Jeff answered without hesitation. “Holly and I have already talked about this possibility. We knew Thorton would be done one day, just didn’t know when that would be. You know we have two little girls who need their daddy home, and I know Holly would rather not get involved in campaigning and all the animosity that can stir up in a community as small as ours. No, I decided months ago that if this situation arose I wouldn’t run.”
The two walked down the stairs together, and when they were about to climb into the separate vehicles, Jeff turned to Deidre once more.
“I do wish you’d give running for sheriff some thought. You’d make a good one.” With that he got in the SUV, waved to Deidre, and drove away.
For the remainder of her ten-hour shift, Deidre kept trying to put the idea out of her mind, but it had a way of crawling back in. By the end of her shift she couldn’t shut off her thoughts,
and a plan began to emerge.
That evening she turned on her TV to a SIRIUS show tune channel, heated her meal of leftovers in the microwave, and sat at the kitchen counter, eating and thinking. By bedtime, Deidre had made her decision—not to run. She slept peacefully that night.
She was comfortable with her decision and had all but put the matter out of her mind. When word leaked out that Sheriff Thorton was retiring, that changed. Near strangers stopped her on the street.
“Deidre, are you going to make a run for office?”
“Deidre, have you given any thought of running for sheriff?”
“Deidre, remember me? I was the kid you picked up for shoplifting eight years ago, and I’m the one you helped get straight. Any chance you’ll be wanting to fill the vacancy left by Thorton?”
One day the director of the battered women’s shelter stopped her. “Deidre, a number of women were talking last night, and your name came up so frequently that we’d like you to drop by this evening, if you have time. We’d like to chat with you.”
Deidre thought it a little odd, but she figured they wanted advice concerning restraining orders or protection for those who felt endangered. That evening when she entered the lobby of the shelter, she was greeted with more than a surprise.
Propped up against the walls of the room were numerous placards that read, “JOHNSON FOR SHERIFF.” Deidre was dumbfounded.
Amid the staccato applause from the ladies, Deidre was finally able to blurt out, “What is this all about?”
One woman, her eye still blackened and her arm in a sling, spoke first. “Deidre, we invited you here to offer you our whole support if you’ll put your hat in the ring for sheriff. We believe our concerns and needs will be better met by you than by any of the other candidates who have filed.”
The air went out of Deidre’s lungs, and she groped for a chair behind her.
“We can’t make the decision for you,” Judy went on, “but we want you to know we will work for you in any way we can.”
One by one the other dozen ladies provided their input, until Deidre felt overwhelmed.
“You know I understand your situations, but I had decided not to run. Now you’ve started me thinking again. Tomorrow’s the last day for filing for the primary. Let me have tonight to make my decision.”
That night Deidre did not sleep well.
The clerk’s office in the county courthouse was located on the main floor. Deidre climbed the fourteen limestone steps to the front door. She wondered how many trips up and down had been made by the folks of Lake County to wear such deep depressions into the treads. Inside, she walked up to the clerk’s window and rang the call bell.
Andrea Wasburn, the elected clerk, came to the window.
“Well, hello, Deidre. Anything special I can help you with this morning?” She grinned at Deidre.
Deidre turned a little red, a characteristic she had always disliked in herself. Blushing gave the impression she wasn’t sure of herself.
“I’m here to file for the primary election. For sheriff,” she added and then mentally kicked herself for sounding so dumb.
Andrea handed her a form. “Fill this out, and I’ll notarize your signature. Pay the $100 filing fee, and you’re in.”
Deidre swallowed hard, picked up the pen, did as she was instructed, and handed the signed paper back to Andrea. She wrote out a check for the fee, noticing that its deduction brought her account dangerously close to zero.
“That makes four of you. I’d be surprised if anyone else shows up before closing time,” Andrea predicted. As Deidre turned to walk away, she heard Andrea say, “Oh, and good luck. We’re behind you.”
The next weeks were filled with activity. Not only did Deidre pull four ten-hour shifts a week, now she also had to use every spare moment calling on homes to distribute her literature. True to their word, those who said they would support her placed campaign signs wherever they were allowed. They passed out literature, made calls. For a rather cobbled-together campaign, they were effective at what they did.
Financing all of this was another worry. Deidre had some savings, but not nearly enough to run a full campaign. The staff at the women’s shelter used their expertise in this area, and soon had raised enough for Deidre to do a decent job of presenting herself.
Ben was the only other candidate who seemed to be able to outspend her, and she couldn’t help but notice his signs popping up in yards all over town. A talented high school jock, Ben was able to capitalize on his notoriety in his home town.
A debate was scheduled between the four candidates for sheriff. It was in the high school auditorium and was intended to allow the public to see the candidates, to ask impromptu questions, and to allow a moderator to ask pre-distributed questions.
Deidre had noticed that whenever there was any sort of gathering, Ben always moved closer to her. He was always friendly, but it seemed he sought her out, where before he had ignored her.
This time she found that her name plate was next to his on the table behind which they were seated. The four candidates walked out on stage with Deidre leading the way. When they got to their chairs, Ben pulled hers out for her and motioned for her to sit. Then he slid the chair under her as if he were seating a date at a dinner table.
It suddenly dawned on Deidre what was going on. Ben was a good foot taller than she and outweighed her by a hundred pounds. He was using this opportunity, as he had been all along, to contrast the difference between their physical sizes.
The questions and answers went well. There didn’t seem to be any animosity on display, and the redness receded from Deidre’s face.
The moderator of the panel asked questions related to finance, the jail occupancy, what was the central problem each candidate saw looming in the future, questions of that sort. Near the end of the time limit, the moderator opened the floor to questions from the audience.
Immediately, the man sitting in the front row, one she recognized as being a high school pal of Ben’s, raised his hand. The moderator called on him.
“I would like to direct my question to Deidre,” he said, not doing a very good job of disguising the sneer on his face. “I can’t help but notice there’s quite a difference between you and the other candidates relative to your size. Do you think you’re able to defend yourself against a much larger man, say someone Ben’s size?”
The words had hardly left his mouth when Deidre shot back, “I don’t know about that. Perhaps Ben could answer the question for you.”
Now it was Ben’s turn to blush. Enough people in the audience knew the meaning behind her words, and an audible wave of snickers could be heard traveling through the auditorium.
There were no other questions for Deidre that night.
The night of the primary election, any interested person could enter the courthouse to watch as the precinct numbers were posted. Shortly before midnight, it became obvious the election for sheriff was a two-person race. After that, nothing surprising happened, and the final tally was posted at four in the morning: Ben VanGotten, 2,329; Deidre Johnson, 1,942; John Persons, 358; and Mike Craig, 221.
It didn’t take much math to figure out that if Deidre was going to win, she would need the support of virtually all of the losing candidates’ supporters.
There were only weeks left before the general election, and both sides ramped up their efforts. After the high school auditorium incident, Ben abandoned his efforts to contrast their gender differences. Instead, he and his cronies spread as much mud over Lake County as they could. Deidre continued to pound away at what she would do to improve the way the department responded to calls. She especially brought up the need for more effective domestic dispute enforcement and for more effective ways to deal with the children involved in those cases.
Another question-and-answer session was held at the high school, this time between only Ben and Deidre. No one questioned her size.
Finally, Tuesday, November 4th arrived. Deidre’s polling place
was at the high school, and she was there when the doors opened. She took the usual friendly jabs about who she was going to vote for and laughed them off. After voting she had her ten-hour shift to work. By the end of the day, she felt like she needed more than a glass of warm milk to settle her nerves.
Deidre went home when her shift was done, showered and dressed in her civvies. She ate a frozen dinner heated in her microwave, and then tried to watch TV. Before the ten o’clock news she climbed into her car and drove to the courthouse to stand vigil another time.
All night long the count wavered between her and Ben. Deidre would go up by a hundred votes, and when the next precinct was posted, he would move ahead by fifty. The lead changed hands almost every time a new posting was added.
Finally, with only one precinct yet to report, Deidre led Ben by a mere two hundred ninety votes. When the final count was put up on the bulletin board, Deidre sat down. Then she got up and read the totals again. Deidre Johnson, 2,798; Ben VanGotten, 2,490.
Deidre was jolted out of her thoughts of the past by the demanding ring of the phone on her desk. She picked up the receiver.
“Hello, Sheriff Johnson speaking.”
Chapter Fifteen
Deidre stood by the conference table in the Lake County Law Enforcement Center. She looked from the face of one deputy to another, and jammed a pencil through her tightly pulled back blond hair. She was aware of how far her relationship with the men had come.
It had been two years since she was elected sheriff. There had been some tough sledding at times. Not long after her taking office, Ben had filed an unfair labor practice suit against her and the county.
Only a few weeks after the election, he had walked into Deidre’s office with no invitation and announced, “I’ve drawn the night shift two weeks in a row, and I’m tired of this harassment. One more stint like this and I’ll have to report you to the county board.”