Dead of Autumn

by Sherry Knowlton

  “No. Everything is fine, Ryan. Thanks.” Alexa tore herself away from Reverend Browne and continued on her way to the coffee shop.

  The encounter with Caleb’s father spooked Alexa. She had already figured out that these protestors were from Reverend Browne’s congregation, but she had never seen the minister himself on the picket lines. His presence there had to be more than coincidence, and the malice in his eyes was disturbing.

  Alexa tried to put herself in the Browne family’s shoes. Caleb learns that the woman he brought home to meet Mama is involved with the abortion clinic. A huge blow to Caleb, who is desperate for Papa’s approval.

  When he tells his father, Papa decides that I can be saved. I’ll bet the good reverend was already writing a triumphant sermon about leading one of the devil’s handmaidens down the blessed path to redemption. Instead of letting them save me, I blow off the minister’s conversion attempt and dump his only son. This man is used to having people obey his every command. I’ll bet he showed up here today with this huge group just to show me his disapproval. It’s more than creepy.

  In the fifteen minutes it took Alexa to get the drinks and return to the clinic, the protestors vanished. Apparently, they had accomplished their goal for the day—chastise Alexa. She was glad to avoid another confrontation with Reverend Browne. As Alexa opened the clinic door, she glanced over her shoulder. Although the street was empty and silent, she felt like someone was watching.

  Alexa had trouble concentrating on the special report she was writing for the board, so she had to stay late to finish. Tanisha and the rest of the staff left for the day. As she sat in the empty office, Alexa had to admit that she felt safer with the security guard there.

  The night guy, Henry Bricker, had replaced Ryan at five o’clock. Henry looked like a slightly younger version of the day shift guard; same paunch, but his head was shaved, probably in an effort to look tough. After a brief conversation with the guard, Alexa had to upgrade her estimation of Henry. Apparently, he was a genuine tough guy, a former Marine with two tours in Iraq under his belt.

  Alexa was just wrapping up her report when Emily Baxter sailed in through the back door. “Emily, I haven’t seen you for a while. You don’t usually work Wednesdays, right?”

  “No. I had a church social last evening, so I switched nights. Doc Crowe doesn’t mind which nights I work as long as I get all the billing done on time.”

  “How are the kids?”

  “They keep me busy,” Emily responded as she took off her heavy coat. “I get a little break when I come in here to work at night. Plus, it gives Glenn a chance to have the kids all to himself,” she added with a wicked smile.

  Emily was the medical coder and billing specialist for the clinic. The slender twenty-something’s two children, a four-year old girl and a two-year old boy, needed her full attention during the day. Emily worked three evenings a week at the clinic after her husband, Glenn, came home from his factory job.

  One day in the mall, Alexa had met Emily’s two adorable children. They took after their attractive young mother with brown eyes and sandy-blonde hair. Alexa knew that extra cash was the only reason Emily left them three nights a week.

  “Do you feel uncomfortable here on your own at night?” Alexa asked.

  “I never worried until all this business with Doctor Crowe. I wasn’t working the night he was shot, but it must have been terrible. Glenn is a little concerned, but Henry and I have become good friends.” She directed a smile toward the security guard sitting in the waiting room. “I feel safe with him here. Besides, I’m just the bookkeeper. Who would want to harm me?”

  “Well, I’ll get out of your way. It’s time for me to get home.” Alexa lifted her coat off the hook, and laughed as she noticed the black buttons. “Oops. Wrong one.” She put the wool tweed back and slipped on the other gray coat, the designer one with gray bone buttons and a mandarin collar.

  “I guess we both like gray, although I could never afford something that soft. Is that cashmere?” Emily asked.

  “Alpaca. I got this when I lived in New York City. I’m just sad that it’s gotten cold enough to wear a heavy coat. Nice to see you, Emily.”

  Henry opened the locked front door for Alexa and stood on the pavement, watching her walk down the block. Alert to any hint of danger, she dashed the short distance to her car. The guard stepped back into the clinic when she reached the Land Rover door.

  In one fluid motion, Alexa tossed her purse through the open door, aiming for the far seat, and clambered onto the running board. When a loud metallic clang reverberated down the empty street, she jumped and nearly slipped back onto the pavement. Holding her breath in the ensuing silence, Alexa scanned the neighborhood, searching for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she began to breathe again and slid into the driver’s seat.

  As she pulled away from the curb, Alexa started to feel a little silly about her overreaction to a random night noise. Then she decided to give herself a pass. After all, the guy who shot Dr. Crowe was still out there somewhere.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Reese stopped by after Alexa arrived home. This was the first time they had been together since Saturday night, but Alexa felt no awkwardness. Alexa couldn’t wait to tell him about the encounter with Reverend Browne earlier that afternoon. “It was so creepy the way he just stood and glared at me. It was like that comic book guy with the laser vision.”

  “Cyclops in the X-Men. You are a woman after my own heart.”

  “Well, I grew up with a brother who was addicted to all things comic book. The only difference between Reverend Browne and Cyclops is that the X-Men are good guys. Even though he’s a minister, I didn’t sense goodness and light in that glare he sent my way this afternoon.”

  “There is something fundamentally weird about this guy,” Reese observed. “No pun intended. He jumps into the middle of his son’s personal relationship and tries to save you with prayer. Then, he shows up at the clinic to confront you in some way. I don’t like it. Maybe he’s just a harmless religious fanatic or a father who has an unhealthy involvement in his son’s life, but he could be dangerous. Have the police considered that these protestors might have something to do with Doctor Crowe’s shooting?”

  “Wouldn’t that be one of the first places the cops would look? I mean it’s so obvious. They are parked across the street from the clinic chanting several days a week. I think the police surely must have investigated the church and decided that the protestors are a harmless pain in the ass. They have the proper permits; they seem to work within the rules.”

  “But what about all the guns?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That lodge we went to is the church’s lodge, right? The whole time Scout and I were waiting for you, there was gunfire.”

  “Yes. All the guys that I met there are hunters. Caleb told me that the lodge has a big shooting range for target practice. In fact, he and three of his friends went out and did some shooting on the day I was there for a picnic.”

  “Getting ready for deer season is one thing. Some of what I heard was automatic rifle fire. I think that it’s unlikely that any of the good church members would be taking to the forests with AK-47s to hunt whitetail.

  “I think I’m going to ask around about these people. Maybe the rangers over in the Perry County parks know something about them.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re seeing militia behind every rock. I’m seeing the X-Men. You’re looking for that guy from Waco, what was his name? David Koresh.”

  “Well, we have made some progress on the militia problems in this side of the valley. My boss and I didn’t come across any actual militia on Sunday, but those telephone tips led us to two places that appear to be training sites. We found piles of bullet casings from high-powered weapons. We’re working with the police on a plan to stake out both places on weekends as soon as deer season ends. Maybe we can catch some of these guys and clear them out of Micha
ux.”

  “It’s hard to believe that someone would use the state forest for paramilitary training. I know that there are hundreds of acres of land in Michaux and some of it is pretty remote, but it seems like a risky move on their part.”

  “Actually, more like eighty-five thousand acres. There is an official shooting range in Michaux, over on the Franklin County side. It has been closed for a year or so because the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources wanted to assess the environmental impact. When we started getting complaints about gunfire in the state forest, we initially thought that some people were still using the site, despite all the warning signs that are posted.

  “But, there were no signs of recent use at the old shooting range. So, we went looking for other sites nearby. We were surprised that the first place we found wasn’t even that far off the main roads. There’s a forest road only a mile or so past that snowmobile area where you found Elizabeth Nelson. This training site is a narrow branch road that once was used for logging. One of the things that helped us spot the turnoff was evidence of recent traffic on that old logging trail.

  “Like it or not, I’ve gotten an entire education on the militia movement lately. Apparently, there was a real surge in the formation of these militias after the big incident at Waco, as you mentioned. I didn’t realize that you were both a comic book and militia buff.”

  “Everybody knows about Waco and that other one, Ruby Ridge.”

  “Well a lot of this is new to me. Apparently, a whole subculture out there took those two FBI actions as evidence that the United States government was going to start taking away everyone’s guns. So, their response to this perceived threat was to go out and buy guns like crazy.”

  “Makes perfect sense,” Alexa said in a tone laden with irony. “You’re worried about losing your guns, so you go out and stock up with more.”

  “Yes. But, these folks weren’t just buying deer rifles and shotguns. They were out stockpiling assault weapons and forming militias to train with these weapons. Most of these people were far right extremists who worship at the altar of the gun, so they were already passionate about their right to bear arms. And, many of them were convinced that the FBI was going to start a door-to-door gun confiscation.

  “Around the same time, a parallel movement latched onto this conspiracy theory about the New World Order. Supposedly, this New World Order was using the United Nations to build a single world socialist government. These people were convinced that the government was building concentration camps for dissenters and that United Nations troops were camping in national parks in preparation for this final takeover.

  “So, you mix the extreme right wing gun nuts with the extreme right wing conspiracy theory nuts and you’ve got a toxic brew that gave rise to all these militia groups. They popped up all over the country and were going strong until the Oklahoma City bombing. Then, public attention finally focused on these homegrown militias. By the late 1990s, arrests and dissension in the ranks had practically wiped out the militia movement.

  “In recent years, some of the diehards are revitalizing the movement. There are groups in the South, the Midwest, and here in Pennsylvania. So, we think that this activity in Michaux may be connected with one of the new groups here in the state.”

  “It’s hard for me to understand this extremist mentality.” Alexa frowned. “Clearly, their experiences and beliefs are very different from mine. I wasn’t really aware of the history behind this whole militia movement, although I have some knowledge of the militia role in the anti-abortion movement. Scott Roeder, the man who killed Dr. George Tiller, the Kansas abortion doctor, was a member of a militia and anti-government group of some sort. And there’s a group called the Army of God that has a how-to manual that includes instructions for 65 ways to destroy abortion clinics. I guess it’s not surprising that anti-abortion extremists find common ground with other right-wing fringe groups.”

  “A lot of the militia groups see themselves as Christian patriots.” Reese agreed.

  Alexa shivered. “It’s sort of scary to think that a bunch of these crazies are shooting automatic weapons around here.”

  “Those sites we found are probably twenty miles or more from this cabin,” Reese said, reassuringly. “But, it is frightening. We want them out of the state forest. And, I think the law enforcement people that we are working with want to shut them down altogether.”

  When Reese left a little while later, he kissed Alexa and said, “Maybe we can have a real date soon. I was thinking Saturday, but my shift could run as late as nine that night. Would Sunday work?”

  “I think my calendar is clear that day.” She smiled. “I’ll have to stick close to home for a few days when I get Scout back out here to the cabin. But, based on his progress, I think he’s got at least another week to be spoiled by Grandma and Grandpa. Sunday would be good. Do you want me to cook?”

  “No, no, no. This being a date, I will take you out to dinner,” he said with mock solemnity. “We can pick the restaurant later this week. No Chinese and no Florentine’s. Let’s try something different, maybe get wild and crazy and drive the whole way to Harrisburg. I’ll call you to finalize the details, but I might not be able to get back over here until Sunday.” With another quick kiss, Reese left the cabin.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Thursday, November 22, 1934.

  Little children, come unto me …

  Surprisingly, Winifred had laid out clothes for all three of the girls at the foot of the bed the sisters had shared last night. In a voice like honey, she said, “Your daddy wants you to dress in your Sunday best today. Norma, you help Cordelia. Dewilla, after you dress, I’ll do up your hair real nice in those barrettes you like.”

  As the Noakes family walked to the car, the nice man who owned the trailer court came by. He greeted them in his booming voice, “Don’t you girls look pretty today? You must be going somewhere special, I’d guess. Well, it certainly is a beautiful day for travel. It’s cold, but that November sunshine sure feels good.”

  Daddy agreed, “Yes, sir. A nice day.” Stowing their suitcases in the trunk, he told the man, “We’ve traveled a long way, and today is special. We’re setting out on a new path.”

  He glanced at Winifred, who nodded and said, “That’s right, Elmo. It’s the path we must take.”

  Dewilla wondered what they were talking about, but she was really too tired to care. Norma hadn’t even heard the conversation because she was putting fussy Cordelia into the car. Dewilla could see that Norma was struggling to lift the child. Both of her sisters seemed to have as little energy as she did. Yesterday, Norma explained that the reason they were tired and headachy all the time was because they weren’t eating much.

  As the car pulled out onto the narrow country road, Norma asked, “Daddy, are we going to get any breakfast today?”

  “We’ll see what we can find down the road here,” he replied. “You girls just sit quiet. Try to keep our baby girl from fussing.”

  Dewilla knew what Daddy’s words meant. No breakfast.

  She tried to choke back her sobs so Daddy wouldn’t get mad, but tears spilled down her face at the news. She didn’t know how much longer she and her sisters could go without a real meal. Other than the little bit of beef stew last night, their only food yesterday had been some butter bread and a little scrapple. The meal had come from a farmer lady who had agreed to have Daddy do some chores.

  “I don’t have enough to feed five of you properly,” she said. “With Thanksgiving coming up next week, I have a big meal to prepare for my family. But, I can spare a little for you. These girls look so peaked. I can see they need something to eat.” Dewilla thought that the big slice of bread, still warm from baking, was one of the best she had ever tasted—almost as good as Mama’s.

  Now, her stomach was growling again, and the prospect of missing another breakfast made her cry. She studied Daddy and Winifred in the front seat and wondered why neither one of them ever complained
about the hunger. Maybe Daddy was embarrassed about not having enough money to buy them food. Daddy had always been a proud man.

  But, that didn’t explain Winifred’s silence. Since the day she had moved in, Cousin Winnie had complained all the time about the smallest things. Winifred whined about the weather, about her wardrobe, about her parents who wanted her to leave the Noakes family and come home. So, it was strange that she didn’t complain about an empty stomach.

  Last evening in bed, Norma had whispered something really disturbing to Dewilla. “I think that Daddy and Winifred are hoarding food for themselves. Daddy is so besotted with Winifred that he’s keeping food back for her. Don’t you think it’s strange that she never complains about being hungry?”

  “Norma, Daddy would never do that.”

  “Don’t be so sure, Dewilla. Daddy has changed ever since that woman came to live with us. I don’t trust her, and I’m worried about him.”

  Today, Dewilla thought about Norma’s remarks and remembered the torrid scene she had witnessed between Daddy and Winifred at the tourist court. More tears ran silently down her cheeks as she looked at Winifred, sitting like a well-fed princess in the front seat next to Daddy. What Norma said was true.

  Daddy wasn’t Norma’s real Pa. Mama had been married before, and Norma was her child from that marriage. Dewilla thought of Norma as her sister, just the same as her full sister, Cordelia. But, Dewilla had to admit that Norma often could see Daddy in a clearer light. Maybe blood ties were like the trees in the forest. Blood could cast a deep shade and make it harder to see what was in Daddy’s true heart.

  Chapter Thirty

  Alexa was ready to break for lunch on Thursday when Melinda knocked and popped her head through the doorway. “The police are here to talk to you.”