by Lea Wait
“I called you when I saw Jon take that gun out of his truck. If I’d called to say Nick was upset with Zelda again and I thought he was going to beat her, would you have come as quickly?”
Owen winced a little. “I see your point. I’m a local deputy, but with Nick’s being a state trooper there would have been questions. Not just from me. But from his superiors.”
“Exactly. Which is why my goal was to keep them apart as much as possible, especially when Nick was on one of his tears, and then to help Zelda get away from Waymouth as soon as possible.” She paused. “Nick wasn’t always like this, you know. Oh, he spanked her when she was little and all. But it’s only been the last six months or so, since she began going out with Jon Snow, that he’s gone over the top.”
“He’s the one who gave Zelda that black eye last week,” Maggie pointed out.
“She’d come in late a couple of nights in a row and he let her have it. I’ll admit, she hasn’t made this easier. It seems like she’s asking for a confrontation with him. The more he tries physical force to discipline her, the more she resists. But I never thought he’d really beat her until this afternoon.”
Owen put down his mug. “Doreen, Maggie told me you’d been one of those to receive blackmail letters from Carrie Folk.”
“True,” she answered, looking over at Maggie.
Maggie nodded her encouragement.
“Did she tell you that letter disappeared?” Doreen asked.
“She did. And that there’s been no one in the house that you know of besides you and Nick and Zelda.”
“And Jon, sometimes,” Doreen added. “Although he hasn’t been inside much recently. He usually waits for Zelda outside, or they meet somewhere else. To stay clear of Nick, of course.” She hesitated. “I don’t think he’s been in the house since about a week before Christmas. Which was before the letter arrived.”
“What was in the letter?” Owen asked.
Doreen glanced at Maggie. “I guess I have to tell you now. Carrie was threatening to disclose information about the abortion service my mother and a few other women in Waymouth ran from the late 1950s until 1973. I helped out there.”
Owen’s eyes widened. He pulled out his notebook. “I don’t know anything about that. Did Nick know what you used to do?
Doreen shook her head. “I never told him. It all happened years ago. Those of us involved then swore not to mention it to anyone. That was the ‘rule number-one’ Betty was talking about at Nettie’s party. Rule number-one was never to tell anyone about what we were doing unless we absolutely had to. And, even then, to insist on speaking with a woman, not a man. We thought a woman would understand. I can’t imagine how Nick would have known anything about what we were doing. He certainly didn’t hear it from me.”
“It’s quite possible, though, that he found that letter. He didn’t say anything to you about it?”
“No. And I didn’t mention it either. I’ll admit, part of me was glad the letter disappeared. I kept thinking if the letter had disappeared, then the problem had. I wouldn’t have to do anything about it.”
Owen paused. “You know Nick was fixated on that cold case. That unknown girl whose body was found in the hidden garden in 1972.”
“I haven’t thought about that in years. As a boy he collected all the articles about the case, and used to say, when he grew up he’d find out who the girl was. And who killed her. He’s still interested in that case?”
“He’s practically memorized the case file. When I came on the job seven years ago that was the first thing he talked to me about. Since I was working in Waymouth, he made me read the file and promise to share any information, any leads or hints at all, that I might hear about it. He kept saying that someone in town knew more than they were telling, and someday he’d bring them to justice.”
Doreen hesitated. “So you read the file.”
“I did. And there’s information there that wasn’t released to the public.” Owen looked at her. “That girl bled to death after having an abortion.”
30
“On The Beach.” Winslow Homer wood engraving illustrating a story in Harper’s Weekly, March 10, 1860. Pair of young eloping lovers run down the beach together, pursued by a tall man in a dark coat and high hat. 4.5 x 3.5 inches. Price: $125.
For a few moments no one in the kitchen said anything. Then Owen spoke again. “Maybe I should have connected the dots earlier. Nick’s mentioned that cold case several times in the past few months. The girl who was found was about seventeen or eighteen, and that’s the age Zelda is now. She’s not much younger than Nick’s wife was when she got pregnant, too.”
Doreen nodded, slowly. “I thought of the connection with Emily, Zelda’s mother. Nick’s blamed her for a lot of things over the years. He loves Zelda, but his life would have been very different if Emily hadn’t gotten pregnant, and he hadn’t married so young and had to be responsible for a child. And of course, the current problems aren’t all his fault. Zelda has been difficult.”
“Emily didn’t get pregnant on her own,” Maggie put in. “And Zelda’s a teenager. She’s focused on her life. Not on her effect on others’.”
“Of course not. And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a father wanting to protect his daughter from boys; from the way he remembered himself acting at their age.” Doreen got up and walked over to the window, looking out toward the barn. “And now Jon’s shot him, and it’s going to mess up both their lives. Possibly permanently.”
“Let’s go back a bit. We need to talk about that letter you got from Carrie Folk. I’m very concerned about the possibility that Nick found it.” Owen’s voice was steady. “Doreen, you’re sure he knew nothing about the abortion activities you were involved with before this?”
She shook her head and returned to the table. “I told you. I can’t imagine how. Mother and I never talked about it. We’d helped a lot of women, young and not-so-young. But it was in the past. And we took the privacy of those who’d come to us very seriously.”
Maggie put her hand out and covered Doreen’s. “But you can see that when Nick found you and your mother were connected to abortions, he’d immediately think of that young women he’s been obsessed with all these years.”
“Of course. Now I see that.” Doreen looked from Maggie to Owen and back. “He must have assumed we’d killed her! That’s probably what both of you are thinking, too. But I don’t know anything about that girl. I’m telling you the truth. I wasn’t there every Thursday. But the last couple of years we were open I was there most of the time. Once I remember a woman bleeding too much. It wasn’t a young girl; it was a married woman who already had seven children. Mother and I drove her to Rocky Shores as quickly as we could. It was scary at the time. Thank goodness, she didn’t die.”
“But you weren’t there for every abortion.”
“No. But even if one of our patients had died, we never would have taken her clothing. That girl they found was naked, wasn’t she? And her body was left outside.” Doreen pushed her chair back slightly. “We could never have been so callous.”
“Not even if having it known would have closed your operation, and possibly sent all of you to prison?” Owen wasn’t smiling.
“What happened to that girl doesn’t make sense. And I have no proof, other than my word. Besides, that girl was never identified. Believe me; we knew who all our clients were. They came to us by personal referrals. We weren’t like one of those butcheries in the cities where you could give a false name and as long as you had the cash, they’d operate.”
“Like the place Nettie Brewer went,” said Maggie.
“That happened before my time, of course, but Mother told me about it when she first explained what was happening in the Westons’ house.” Doreen took a deep breath. “We did it to help women, not hurt them. If that poor girl died of an abortion, it wasn’t one she had from us. I swear.” Her eyes filled. “What Nick must have thought when he saw that letter! He’s been looking for that girl’s kille
r all these years, and here he thought it was his own mother or grandmother.” She shook her head. “No wonder he’s been especially on edge the past week.”
Owen paused. “It was all a long time ago. For now I’ll take your word that you had nothing to do with that girl’s death. Although now that I know about your organization it certainly raises questions I’m going to have to find answers to. But let’s put that aside for a moment. I need to ask you something else. When I got the call from Carrie Folk’s neighbor about her murder and called Nick Christmas morning, he hadn’t been home long, had he?”
“No. He went to that party at the Westons’ house,” Doreen said. “Then he went to the midnight service at the church, to hear Zelda sing. I drove her home, and he went on duty.”
Maggie looked at Owen. “And he’s been the one investigating Carrie’s murder.”
“Oh, no.” Doreen suddenly realized what they were thinking. “You think my Nick could have killed Carrie?”
“It would have been a way of keeping you from having this exact conversation. Of protecting you, if he thought you killed that girl in the sunken garden,” Owen pointed out. “And we didn’t find any fingerprints or other evidence in the Folks’ home. Whoever killed Carrie Folk knew what they were doing.”
Doreen picked up her napkin and wiped tears from her eyes. “Why didn’t he come and talk with me about it? I could have told him I wasn’t involved. I could have explained.”
Owen shook his head. “I have to tell you, Mrs. Strait. I don’t know for sure what Nick did. But I can understand how he felt. Not, you understand, that he should have killed Carrie Folk. But that he wanted to. Especially given his reaction to Zelda this fall.”
The scream of an ambulance siren interrupted them. Doreen went to the window. “A second ambulance is here, and the tow truck almost has the first one out.” She turned to the two at the table. “We’ve talked enough. Too much. My son is going in the hospital and I have to go to him.”
Owen nodded. “Can I trust you not to say anything to him about our conversation this afternoon? I suspect he’ll be in the hospital for at least a day or two. Right now I need to find Jon and Zelda. Running isn’t going to help Jon, and Jon didn’t force her into that truck with him. She chose to stay with the man who’d shot her father rather than stay with Nick. She’s an accessory to assault of an officer. Or attempted murder.”
“Please. You need to find them before any other law enforcement people do,” said Doreen, realizing what that meant. “Talk to them. Convince them to turn themselves in.”
Owen got up. “I’m going to try.”
“May I come with you? Zelda knows me, at least a little,” said Maggie.
Owen hesitated, but only a moment. “C’mon then. Just keep quiet and stay out of the line of fire. Jon has a rifle. And he’s already used it once today.”
31
Buying Trotting Horses on the Androscoggin. Full page black-and-white wood engraving drawn by James E. Kelley (1855–1933) for Harper’s Weekly, March 20, 1880. Kelley, a noted sculptor and artist remembered for his Civil War and other illustrations of American historical events, was also one of the founders of the Art Students League of New York. Illustration shows seven teams of horses racing sleighs on the frozen Androscoggin River in Maine. Men and boys (one African American) cheer on their favorites, and insets show a horse being trained by pulling a hay wagon on skids (“The Jumper”), a woman feeding a colt (“The Foster Mother”), and a man checking the legs of a horse while a woman with a whip holds the horse’s bridle (“The Fair Jockey”). Small, almost invisible, tear in margin above print, extending about one inch into picture. Page: 15 x 10 inches. Price: $40.
As they followed the two ambulances and the tow truck out of the driveway, Maggie realized that in all the excitement she hadn’t called Will. She’d told him she’d meet him at home soon. Banana splits were now the furthest thing from her mind. She pulled out her phone.
“Hello, Maggie? Where are you? Aunt Nettie and I’ve been worried.”
“I’m with Owen. A lot’s happened. I’ll fill you in as soon as I can. We’re trying to find Jon and Zelda.”
“I thought you were coming home after you talked with Owen.”
“I was, but there was an emergency. I’ll tell you all everything as soon as I can. But I need to stay with Owen now. Don’t eat all the ice cream!” Maggie slipped the phone back into her pocket.
Owen glanced over at her. “Trouble with Will?”
“He doesn’t like me getting involved with criminal cases. Especially when Nick told me to stop asking questions.”
Owen grinned. “You? Stop asking questions? The man’s a bit unrealistic. Do you need to go, then?”
“We need to find Jon and Zelda,” said Maggie. “I’m here for the duration. Where are we heading?”
“Jon turned toward town when he left the driveway. He could be anywhere. But I’m hoping he headed for his own home. We’ll go there first and see if his truck’s in the drive.”
“Wouldn’t going home be too obvious?”
“Jon’s a good kid. Attends church, does what his parents want him to. He’s never been in any trouble before. I’m betting he’s scared to death.”
“He has Zelda with him. And that gun.”
“But he was trying to defend Zelda. I don’t think he’ll hurt her.” Owen frowned and kept driving. “But I’ll sure feel better once we find them both.”
He slowed down at a small house closer to the center of town. “That’s his house. No truck. So my guess was wrong.” Owen turned the next corner. “I’m trying to remember who his friends at school are. Who he might have turned to. Keep your eyes open for that old green truck of his. Luckily there aren’t a lot like that in town.”
“You said he went to church. Is he religious? Would he have turned to his minister for help?” Maggie suggested.
“Good thought.” Owen turned his car away from town.
“You’re not heading for the church,” said Maggie.
“I am. His church. He and his parents don’t attend the church on the Green. They go to a church outside of town.” Owen smiled. “It’s not the eighteenth century anymore. Not everyone in Waymouth goes to the Congregational church.”
“Of course not. I thought, since Zelda went to that church…”
“That Jon would, too? Nope.”
They weren’t close to downtown Waymouth anymore. Owen turned off Route 1 and headed down a less traveled road. About a mile in, a small white building was set off the road. In front of it a sign read: REJOICE IN THE SEASON. LET JESUS INTO YOUR HEART THIS HOLIDAY.
“This is the place.” Owen drove into a wide plowed driveway that curved around the building. “Reverend Adams’s office is in the back. If he isn’t here we’ll check the high school. Jon’s on the basketball team. The gym could be open for practices during the holiday.”
Owen slowed down as he followed the icy drive around the back of the low building.
“There!” Maggie pointed. A green pickup was parked near the back door next to a black Subaru sedan.
Owen pulled in next to the pickup. “Stay here until I take a look at the truck,” he said. “I want to see if his rifle’s there.” He got out and walked slowly toward the truck. He opened the driver’s door and reached down. Maggie watched as he came back toward the police car holding Jon’s rifle.
She opened her car door as he checked to see if the gun was loaded, and then put it carefully in the trunk. “So he’s not armed now,” she said. “Thank goodness.”
“Let’s go find them,” said Owen. Maggie followed him into the building. The reverend’s office was down the hall. Owen knocked. “Hello? Police.”
Silence. Then, “Come in. Door’s unlocked.”
A tall, thin, balding man sat behind a wide desk piled with papers. In back of him was a bookcase packed with various editions of the Bible, hymnals, books on biblical interpretation, and books on counseling. A cross hung on the wall opposite th
e desk, over the couch where Jon and Zelda sat, holding hands. If Zelda’s eyes hadn’t been swollen from crying, they would have looked like any other guilty teenaged couple, perhaps caught in an embrace by a mother walking into the room.
“We were expecting you, Deputy Trask,” said Reverend Adams. “It’s been a hard day here in Waymouth.”
“It has,” said Owen, looking from the minister to the two young people. “Jon, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me.”
Jon swallowed hard. “I did it to protect Zelda. He was going to hit her with his belt.”
“And you shot him. You shot an unarmed Maine State Trooper,” said Owen. “That’s serious.”
“How’s my dad?” asked Zelda, not letting go of Jon’s hand.
“He’s in the hospital. Your grandmother went to be with him,” said Owen.
“Jon didn’t mean it. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have stayed out after my curfew. And I shouldn’t have told Jon about what my father would do.” Zelda turned toward Maggie. “I truly didn’t think he’d come after Dad. I didn’t.”
“I’m not sorry. I know that’s wrong, Reverend, but I’m not. Zelda’s dad’s been hurting her. You didn’t have to tell me, Zelda. I saw the bruises. And the black eye. He was getting worse. I was wicked worried about her, Reverend. I wouldn’t have killed her dad. I just wanted him to stop. I didn’t want him to hurt Zelda again.”
“I understand, Jon. But you know you have to go with the deputy.”
“It wasn’t like that Carrie Folk. She was going to tell people about Zelda’s grandmother killing babies. She killed babies, Reverend! She’s the one who should be going to jail. Not me.”
Maggie stepped closer to the young people. “How did you know about the abortions, Jon? Who told you?”
“Zelda told me,” he said. “She found a letter that woman…that Mrs. Folk…sent to her grandmother. She showed it to me.”
“I didn’t mean any harm to anyone,” sobbed Zelda. “I didn’t. I couldn’t find my sticky tape, to wrap Christmas gifts with. I looked in Grandma’s desk, and I saw the letter. It said awful things about Grandma, and her mother, too. Mrs. Folk was going to tell everyone in town what they’d done.”
