by Terri Reid
She smiled sadly. “No, my dad was never sick a day in his life,” she said. “He always said he didn’t have time to be sick and, really, I think the germs obeyed him.” She sighed softly. “Everyone obeyed Dad.”
“Sure, just ask her about the time she used my razor to shave her legs,” Dale grumbled. “Nearly destroyed my face the next day.”
Mary smiled to herself. “So, he sounds like he was pretty stern.”
“Oh, no, he just grumbled a lot,” she said. “He had a soft heart and would do anything for anyone. He was the one who stayed up all night with a sick calf; he was the one who rescued the barn kittens when their mothers abandoned them. He was the one who sat up and waited for me to get home from my dates when I was in high school.” Her voice broke and she brushed away a tear. “He was a great dad.”
“It was easy when you have a great daughter,” Dale said, his voice thick with emotion.
“So how did he die?” Mary asked.
“Well, everyone said it was a farming accident,” she replied. “But it was really hard to believe. Dad was never careless. He taught us to practice safety rules all the time. He told us that farming was one of the most dangerous occupations you could have, but mostly because people got careless. I just don’t believe he closed himself into a grain silo.”
“What did the police say?” Mary asked, knowing the answer.
“There was no investigation,” Jessie said. “I guess we decided it was better to be thought of as an accident.”
“Better?”
Jessie shook her head. “I’m sorry; you don’t need to hear our family’s history. You’re here about the lien. So, what do you need from us?”
“I need your signature and the signatures of the rest of your family stating that you will be responsible for the lien,” Mary said. “I know the original contractor is dead, but you can never tell if someone from his estate would try to pursue this. If, as your mother said, it’s just a mistake, then it’s no big deal. But, just in case, I’d like to have all my bases covered.”
“Well, of course,” Jessie said. “I can sign it and then I can have Josh and Abe sign it too.”
Mary opened her briefcase and took out the fake document. “I hate to be a bother, but my lawyer said that I needed to be present when it’s signed,” she said. “So no one can claim they never saw it.”
Reaching across the desk, Jessie picked up the paper, skimmed the contents and quickly signed the bottom.
“She writes like her mother,” Dale said, looking over Jessie’s shoulder.
Jessie looked up instantly. “Did you say something?” she asked.
Mary shook her head. “No. What did you hear?”
Shaking her head, she smiled sadly. “It’s funny how your mind plays games with you,” she said. “I thought I heard my dad.”
“I’ve had that happen to me,” Mary said. “And sometimes I feel like maybe there’s a message in it for me.”
Meeting Mary’s eyes, Jessie paused. “A message?”
Mary nodded. “Well, it’s worked for me,” she said. “Who knows, your dad might be trying to help us get the house sold.”
“No, he wouldn’t be helping with that,” she said decidedly. “Dad wanted the house and the land to stay in the family. That was his greatest wish.”
“Oh,” Mary replied. “Then, can I ask, why you are selling it?”
“I can’t walk through the house without thinking about him,” she said. “And, you’ll probably think I’m crazy, but sometimes I think I actually see him or hear him.”
“Are you saying your house is haunted?” Mary asked, a teasing tone in her voice.
“Only by my memories,” Jessie said.
Chapter Twenty-two
Dale appeared next to Mary once the elevator doors closed. “She could hear me,” he said. “How do you explain that?”
“Love,” Mary said simply. “She misses you and part of her yearns for any contact she can make with you.”
“Sometimes you take your children’s love for granted,” he muttered. “Sometimes you don’t realize what your absence will do to them.”
“It sounds like you were a great dad,” Mary said. “And that Jessie knew she was loved. You can’t do better than that.”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t think Jessie had anything to do with my death.”
“Well, I’m inclined to agree with you,” she said. “But until I have all the facts, I don’t want to jump to any conclusions.”
The elevator stopped and as the door slid open, Dale faded away. Hurrying across the lobby, Mary stepped out into the bright, late spring day. The air smelled fresh and the Freeport Downtown Development Foundation had planted flowers in the planters throughout downtown, so everything looked a little brighter. Looking at her watch, she decided she still had time to meet with Abe at the repair shop.
She crossed the street and walked the two blocks to the auto repair shop. Pushing open the glass door, she walked to the service desk and waited. A tall young man who immediately reminded her of Dale came walking in from the garage area, wiping his hands on a shop towel.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Mary studied him for a moment. She had never seen a person so devoid of emotion, like he was just empty inside. “Hi,” she finally said with a smile. “I’m looking for Abe Johnson.”
Cocking his head, it was his turn to study her for a moment. “I’m Abe,” he said. “And I’m not interested.”
“Not interested?” Mary asked.
“Not interested in whatever it is you’re selling.”
“Really? Do I look like a salesperson?” Mary replied with a grin, looking down at her outfit. “Do I at least look like a successful salesperson?”
“Listen lady,” he began impatiently.
“Mary. Mary Alden,” she said. “And I’m here about the house you and your family are selling.”
He was instantly taken aback. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But my sister is handling that. Her name is Jessie…”
“I’ve already met with Jessie,” Mary replied. “And now I need to meet with you. There’s a lien on the deed and I need your signature stating that you, and the rest of your family, will be responsible for any obligation incurred if the lien is optioned.”
“A lien. What the hell?”
“It seems that a contractor who did some work on the house years ago placed a lien on it, until the work was paid for,” she said.
“The work was paid for,” Abe said forcefully. “My dad paid all his debts. On time and in full. My dad didn’t believe in credit. I know it was paid for.”
“He sure has a lot of confidence in me,” Dale said softly in Mary’s ear.
“Your dad’s payment isn’t in question,” Mary said. “Through some error, the lien was never taken off the property. The contractor is no longer alive, or I’d go to him. But, in case his estate decides to try and come after the property, which they probably won’t, I need your family to agree to be responsible for the obligation.”
“And if I don’t sign?” he asked.
“Don’t be an ass, boy,” Dale criticized. “She hasn’t done anything to you.”
Mary shrugged. “Then I don’t buy the house,” she said. “And more than likely, no one else will buy it either.”
Abe took a deep breath. “I apologize,” he said contritely. “You haven’t done anything to me; I’m just a little sensitive when it comes to the house.”
“I understand your dad died at the house,” Mary replied sympathetically.
“Yeah, but what you don’t understand is that I killed him.”
“What?” Dale yelled in Mary’s ear.
Trying not to react to Dale’s outburst, Mary took a deep breath and met Abe’s eyes. “I understand it was a farming accident,” she said. “How could you be responsible?”
He tossed the rag down on the counter and ran his hand impatiently through his hair. “One of the first rules of farming, one of the first thi
ngs Dad ever taught me was to check and double check,” he said. “I should have checked the grain silo before I emptied the truckload into the silo. I should have opened it up and gone inside. If I had done that, he wouldn’t have died.”
Dale snorted. “Abe was the most diligent of the three, I can’t believe he didn’t check it.”
“So, you didn’t check the silo at all?” Mary asked.
“Well sure I did,” he replied. “Before I went out to the field I checked it. Looked it over and then latched the door good and tight.”
“Then why the hell is he blaming himself?” Dale shouted.
“You checked it once and everything was fine?” Mary asked again.
“I said it was,” Abe replied.
“Would there be any reason to check it again?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Not normally, but if I had…”
“Did you ever think you were set up?” Mary asked impatiently.
“What?”
“You’re so busy blaming yourself that you never stopped to figure out why your dad would have gone into the silo and locked the door behind himself?”
“He wouldn’t have done that,” he said. “He knew better.”
“So, if you checked earlier and your dad wouldn’t have done it himself,” Mary explained. “Then someone put your dad in there and locked him in, knowing you already checked.”
Abe staggered back against the wall, his eyes wide and his face white. “Someone murdered my dad,” he said and then he turned to Mary. “Why didn’t someone investigate his death?”
Mary met his eyes. “Because everyone in your family thinks they are protecting someone else in the family.”
He suddenly clapped his mouth shut and he was silent for a few moments. “I got no more to say to you,” he finally said. “I’ll sign your paper, but then you and your crazy ideas need to stay the hell away from my family.”
“He thinks it’s Josh,” Dale said. “He’s protecting Josh.”
Mary handed Abe the paper and he scrawled out his signature. “Thank you, Abe,” she said.
“I better not hear that you’re spreading rumors about members of my family,” he threatened. “I’ll sue you. I haven’t touched a penny of the money we got when we sold the land, but I’ll use it all to protect my family.”
“Don’t worry, Abe,” she said. “I’m not out to hurt your family.”
Mary turned and left the store; she was a little shaken by Abe’s vehemence.
“I never taught him to treat a lady like that,” Dale said. “But I can’t say I wasn’t a little bit proud when he stood up for family like that.”
Mary inhaled deeply and nodded. “Yeah, even if he thinks Josh did it, he’d fight for him,” she said.
“He’s a good brother,” Dale said.
“And a good son,” Mary added.
“Yeah, a good son…a great son,” Dale said and then he faded away.
Chapter Twenty-three
The phone rang as Mary entered her office and she hurried to answer it. “Mary O’Reilly,” she said, holding the phone between her chin and shoulder as she put her briefcase down and pulled out her laptop.
“Girl, when are you going to remember you’re married?” Gracie Williams teased on the other end of the phone.
“Gracie,” Mary said with a smile. “Thanks for reminding me. I was wondered what he was doing sleeping in my bed.”
“Honey, when a man looks that fine I sure hope he’s doing more than just sleeping in your bed.”
Mary blushed. “Gracie,” she replied with shock in her voice. “Of course he is. He’s stealing the blankets, taking up my side of the bed and snoring. Is that what you mean?”
Gracie chuckled. “Well of course that’s what I mean,” she said. “This is during working hours, we wouldn’t want to talk about anything scandalous.”
“Oh, and it would be scandalous,” Mary assured her.
“So, since we can’t talk about it, why don’t you tell me how your conversation about the baby went?”
Mary sighed softly. “It was so great,” she said. “Well, once we figured out that I wasn’t dying and Bradley wasn’t leaving me. But after that, it was great.”
“I’m not going to even ask what all that in between stuff was, but he’s happy about the baby?”
“He’s thrilled and he’s trying so hard to take care of me,” Mary said. “Yesterday morning he got up early to make me my favorite breakfast- burritos with green peppers and onions.”
“No he didn’t,” she replied. “Did you puke right there in the kitchen or did you make it to the bathroom?”
“Actually, I smelled the green peppers and onions when I was still upstairs, so I got to take care of it in the privacy of the master bathroom,” she said with a laugh. “And once he realized how it affected me, he got me a tea to go and some soda crackers.”
“He’s a good man,” Gracie said. “And now, how did your meeting with the child psychologist go?”
Mary sat back in her chair and pondered for a moment. “You know, she wasn’t as warm and fuzzy as I thought she would be,” she said. “I mean, she seemed competent and professional, but for some reason I thought she would be more approachable. Especially since she is working with children.”
“Well, sometimes being a little distant can be helpful,” Gracie said. “She’s not their friend, but she is there to help them. An authority figure, like a teacher.”
“I suppose that might work,” Mary said. “We had some good conversations yesterday and really had some important breakthroughs. So, you might be right.”
“But?” Gracie asked with humor in her voice.
Mary chuckled. “You know me so well,” she said. “But, she just didn’t seem happy.”
“Mary, your responsibilities do not include making everyone around you happy,” she said. “Sometimes people just need to work things out.”
“You’re right…”
“Of course I’m right,” Gracie interrupted. “That was never in question.”
Mary laughed out loud. “Gracie, I miss you,” she said.
“When are you coming to Chicago?” Gracie asked. “We need to do lunch so you can enlighten me on your scandalous life.”
“Soon, I’ll be coming soon,” she said. “I thought I’d wait until I’m past my first trimester to tell my family about the baby. So, we’ll probably be coming in next month.”
“Well, you just tell me when and we’ll schedule a long lunch,” Gracie said. “And maybe by then you’ll have a little meat on your skinny self.”
Mary eyed the bag containing the corned beef sandwich and large deli pickle now sitting on her desk. “Well, if I keep satisfying my cravings, I’ll have more than meat,” she said. “I’ll have fat.”
“As long as you’re eating healthy and limiting your sweets, you’re just fine,” Gracie said. “And I’m a doctor.”
“You’re a psychologist, that doesn’t count,” Mary countered.
“Honey, when you want an excuse to eat chocolate, who are you going to listen to?” Gracie asked.
“Now that you mention it, I’ve always thought that you were much smarter than any other doctor I’ve seen.”
“Now you’re talking,” Gracie replied with a laugh. “Well, I gotta run now. You take care, here? And call me if you need anything.”
“I will,” Mary said. “Take care, Gracie.”
Chapter Twenty-four
After finishing her lunch and making a few phone calls, Mary found that she had a couple of hours before she could do anything more on the Johnson case. But ever since Gracie had mentioned chocolate, Mary couldn’t keep her mind off of the dark chocolate ice cream at Union Dairy. Of course, she couldn’t go there unless she had at least started her investigation about Erika.
“Okay, library first,” she said aloud. “And the fact that it is right next door to Union Dairy is just a coincidence.”
The public library was nearly empty, but since it was the m
iddle of the day during a school and work day, Mary wasn’t surprised. She walked up the curving steps to the second floor and headed to the local history section. One entire section of shelving held copies of the Polaris, the yearbook of Freeport High School. The first copy was dated 1905 and the library had copies of most years since then. By the kind of clothing she was wearing and her hairstyle, Mary estimated that Erika was in school in the fifties. But the song she chose, The Everly’s Brothers’ All I Have to Do Is Dream, was released in 1958, so Mary picked up the 1958 Polaris first. Flipping through the yearbook she smiled at the bouffant hairstyles and cat-eye glasses so common during that era. They boys had slicked back “flat tops” or crew cuts and the girls looked like carbon-copies of Sandra Dee or Elizabeth Taylor. She also noted that the boys all wore suits and ties for their class photos and most of the girls wore starched white embroidered collars over buttoned up sweaters. She studied the names underneath each photo, but no “Erika” was listed so she flipped over to the section that had the class photos.
Instead of individual pictures, like the Seniors, the Juniors had a large group photo. The Junior Class photo was shot in the gym, with students lined up on bleachers so everyone could be seen. There were only two hundred students in the Junior Class, so eight rows of twenty-five were assembled on the bleachers. Mary studied the photo for a moment when something at the very top of the group caught her eye. She pulled the book closer and studied the black and white photo. There on the very top, a level above the final row, the face of the young girl peeked out between the heads of several very tall boys.
Mary placed a piece of paper between the pages, closed the book and walked out from between the shelves. A librarian was sitting behind a desk next to the local history area.
“Hi,” Mary said as she approached the woman. “I was wondering if you might happen to have a magnifying glass.”
“Looking at old photos are you?” the librarian asked with a smile as she slid out a desk drawer and reached in for a large black-rimmed magnifying glass.
