“But first impression?”
“First impression, Merilee’s in terrible shape.”
“I’ll call her mother right away and set up the logistics for Dorothy spending the night there. Or several. In the meantime, you can arrange any necessary physical tests.”
“Merilee isn’t in any shape to drive herself home. Will you take her out there?”
“Sure.”
“Good, then I’ll send Dorothy out in Merilee’s pickup.”
“If I were her parents this would freak me out. What are you going to tell them?” Josie asked.
“The truth! Patricia already knows Merilee is not well and until you can arrange for testing, you’ve suggested that having a member of the team stay at their place will help calm her and give them some rest. They know she isn’t well, but I don’t think she’s told them about the voices.” Together we glanced at Merilee lying curled in a fetal position.
“I wish I could prescribe some medication.” Josie’s glance was full of pity. “Psychologists can’t and I doubt if your family doctor would appreciate a call from me telling him what this girl needs.”
“I think Patricia has already taken her to Dr. Golbert for something to help her sleep. But it’s clearly not working.”
“No. It’s not,” Josie agreed. “I want you to stay with Merilee and see if you can rummage up an extra blanket and keep her warm. Try to get some food down her. I think there’s some orange juice in the fridge in the Regional Room. And I’m going to run over to Dorothy’s and make sure she’s willing to do this.”
Josie called back in fifteen minutes. “It’s all set. She’s collected her knitting and everything else she needs and understands that her job is actually to listen for voices. And we are to come by and check on her every day. She also wants to know if you would bring the commonplace book by.”
“Nope. I have to keep it here or at the historical society. Besides, I don’t want to risk Merilee reading it. It’s too strange. Poor Franklin Slocum has managed to upset the three of us and I can just imagine the effect it would have on someone who barely has body and soul together.”
“One thing is for damn sure. If Dorothy hears voices, there are voices.”
***
Dorothy called the next morning. I hadn’t even had time to brush my teeth.
“I don’t know if this is good news or bad news.”
She hadn’t even bothered with a “hello.”
“The child is not hearing things. The voices are real. And they are set off by an inexpensive motion-sensitive player someone tucked under her pillow. That’s why her parents couldn’t hear anything. She would only hear it when she laid down at night.”
Stunned, I just stared at the receiver. “Just a minute. I want Josie to hear this.”
I yelled upstairs and ordered Josie to pick up the extension. She pounded down the hallway and listened to Dorothy’s account of her night.
“I don’t know what we’re going to tell Merilee.” I was on our landline and twisted the cord into a bow. What would be more reassuring? That some bastard is messing with her mind, or letting her keep on believing that she might be losing it?
“I’ve already taken care of that dilemma,” Dorothy assured me. “I showed her the device when she got up and told her there wasn’t a thing wrong with her. There actually were voices and I heard them too. I ordered her to get out of bed immediately and get ready for school. And that we would find the evil-doer post-haste.”
I cringed. “And that made her feel better?”
“Most certainly. Yes. Anything is better than thinking you are going crazy. And we will apprehend this cruel devil and bring him to justice.”
Her dramatic phrases make me feel like I had stepped into one of her novels where all her endings were happy and swift and sure. On the other hand, there was something about Dorothy. Just her solid self-assured presence in a room made one feel that “evil-doers” would get their just desserts. Every time.
“Where is Merilee now?”
“Ernie drove her to school. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to get behind a wheel just yet. We need to find out a little more about the kind of kids she’s going to school with. I don’t think anyone there would be trying to ‘gaslight’ her but I think you should take a look at them. Ernie will pick her up when class is over too because I don’t think she should take the bus either. I’m driving the pickup. It’s quite impressive, actually. Excellent for traversing these roads.”
Chapter Fifteen
I caught Sam up on Merilee’s problems and the reasons Dorothy had stayed with her last night. The Suters’ pickup pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office. Dorothy walked in and triumphantly handed Sam the plastic bag containing the recording device. She’d had the presence of mind to wear rubber gloves.
“Well. Good job, Ms. Mercer.” He held the bag up to the light. “In fact, I don’t know of another lay person who would have handled this so well.” They both blushed.
“I didn’t let Merilee touch it.” Her face glowed with quiet pride at Sam’s complements.
“This here recorder is dirt cheap.” He viewed the bag from all angles. “Doesn’t even cost ten bucks. You can buy it anywhere. The local truck stop has a bunch of them. They work on the same principle as talking dolls or those safety gadgets that bark like a dog when someone tries to break into a house.”
“Can anyone think why some sadistic s.o.b. would want to torment that poor child?” I wasn’t expecting a reply.
“It’s such an obvious device. That’s what floors me. There was no real attempt to disguise it. All she had to do was move to set it off. It would have been found when she changed her sheets.” Dorothy looked at Sam. “I’m not as brave as you think. The first time I heard it I froze. Then I realized the sounds were coming from beneath her pillow. Merilee didn’t wake up. I’m sure she is exhausted.”
“She probably was more relaxed and felt protected knowing you were there.”
“Perhaps.” She modestly ducked her head. “I’m sure her parents would have been right by her side if they had known. But she didn’t tell them about the voices because she thought she was losing her mind. She didn’t suspect anything else.”
“Did you get any sleep at all?” Sam gently patted the back of her hand.
“No,” she said bravely, looking deeply into his eyes. “I hadn’t planned to anyway. I was in a recliner next to her bed and started knitting and simply listening. That’s all I had planned to do. Just listen. But when I heard the voices and Merilee turned over, I felt under the pillow for the device and fumed the rest of the night. I’m still mad. Who would do this kind of thing?”
“You didn’t wake Patricia or Ernie?”
“No. Merilee hadn’t told them about it. She’s very protective of her parents. There was no need to wake them in the middle of the night. The Suters have had all they can stand. They are dead on their feet, both from the death of their son and their daughter’s state of mind.”
“Good for you, Dorothy.”
“Merilee told them about it this morning. They seemed relieved to know there was a basis for their daughter’s nerves.”
“Did you hear anything else?” All business now, Sam reached for a legal pad lying on his desk and started taking notes.
He was not a habitual note-taker. He caught my puzzled look. “These will be transferred to the whiteboard in the Regional Room.”
In that instant it became apparent to me that Sam believed Merilee’s issues were tied to the macabre “Ghost Baby” case.
No. They couldn’t be. Not directly. Indirectly, sure, because of her brother’s death. But I had convinced myself that the voices were a vicious high school prank. Some twisted kid exploiting this tragedy. Widening the fracture in this family’s hearts. We hadn’t made one speck of progress in finding the killer. How could we dec
ipher another layer of complexity?
“Mind if I record this too?” Sam fumbled around in a drawer for a tape recorder. “I’m not as fast writing stuff down as I used to be and I want to get your very first impressions exactly right.”
Dorothy nodded. “Other than the night sounds that are usually there on a farm, there weren’t any other strange noises. It’s an old house. Floorboards creak. There’s a loud old Regulator clock that chimes the hours, but nothing unusual. I think I finally dozed off a little toward morning, but I’m beat.”
Sam picked up the little bag and gestured for us to follow him into the new Regional Room. Anything that was classified as evidence in this case had been transferred to Topeka when the state forensic team first came out. This was the first piece we could officially log in here at the center. It was a sobering feeling.
Sam went to the main computer and punched in a password that generated the daily code. He filled out the chain of custody slip on the screen, then walked into the evidence room and placed the bag inside the first locker.
“No one can take this out now, even you, Lottie, without again using a rotating number that will be dispensed by the computer.” He went to the phone and called David. “Good news,” he announced after he hung up. “His pager chimed just like it should to let the team know when someone has entered evidence. He’s in town and will come by the office to double check my paperwork.”
“Wow. I didn’t expect you to have the system in place this soon. When did this all happen?”
“A couple of days ago. David told me what you two had worked out. I watched him set everything up. Had a few ideas myself.”
I shot him a quizzical look. When had Sam become a computer genius?
“Getting things to work wasn’t my doing. But David and I did a little brainstorming and I told him what I was worried about. He came up with solutions and then I shot them down. Then he countered with some kind of an answer until we came up with something that suited us both.”
“Awesome.” And it was. I had urged members of the team to do their own thinking. And they had!
“There’s even a camera inside that closet and each auxiliary member of the team will have a special gadget—sort of like a pager—that chimes when a person logs stuff in or out. He has set up something for the mainframe computer too.”
Dorothy gazed at him with admiration.
“This was all David’s doing of course, Ms. Mercer. I merely pointed out where people could beat the system.”
“I’m sure your suggestions improved the design enormously. Your wisdom and pragmatic approach would be a valuable asset for any law enforcement agency,” she said in the stilted manner she used in her books. Sam blushed.
Beaming, David walked in the door. “All the systems up and running according to plan.” He walked over to the mainframe and logged in.
We told him about the buzzer. “Why in the world would someone do something so bizarre? It makes no sense whatsoever. Merilee was losing her mind. It was such a cruel thing to do.”
“I’ll tell you why.” David stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Some people love to torment others. Like a cat toying with a mouse. They study ways to destroy people. Starting in junior high and on through high school there was this kid…”
His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard to steady his breathing. I thought of the little Duck Boy and the pleasure his classmates took in tormenting him.
“I was a perfect mark. Fat. Bad skin. No friends. Not good at anything. Grades weren’t anything to brag about. No reason to single me out other than I took everything harder than anyone else. That why the Suters have been singled out. I’ll bet on it. The family is in more pain than most folks will suffer in a lifetime. Especially that frail teenager. She’s ideal.” Sadly, he gazed at me. “Better hustle, Lottie. This man isn’t crazy, he’s evil. And evil beats crazy every time.”
***
Two days later, we had another regional meeting and started at one p.m. so Dr. Ferguson would have plenty of time to drive out. The day was cold and uninviting but there was no snow on the ground.
The first thing on the agenda was individual reports. I had asked David Hayes to go first. He looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy approaching the front of the room and immediately hid behind the podium I had placed there. He wore a uniform shirt with his undersheriff’s badge and the buttons were strained across his ample stomach. His jeans hung limply below where they should. His pasty face was moon-round and pock-marked. I turned and looked hard at Harold who gave me an amused smile like he knew I was struggling to make sense of this man, this unlikely alleged computer genius who proceeded to tell everyone about the state-of-the-art equipment protection system.
His presentation was rat-a-tat-tat without a single unnecessary word. When he finished he distributed specially programmed pagers to every one of us. Then he explained the different kind of chimes and what the sounds meant.
I glanced at Dr. Ferguson who smiled when smiles were called for and applauded with the rest of the team when David finished.
But then Ferguson rose to his feet. “I join everyone here in expressing my appreciation for all your hard work. And your skill. Let’s give him another round of applause.” He turned to the rest of the table. “Before you take your seat I have a few questions. Mr. Hayes, is it?” He said this like David’s role was too unimportant to bother remembering his whole name.
David turned awkwardly and faced him.
“So here is my main question. Have we actually accomplished anything with all of this fancy new equipment? Found a person of interest? Tangible clues?”
David’s mouth tightened. He shook his head. “Not at this time, no.” He lumbered on back to his chair.
Dr. Ferguson’s gazed around the room again. He paced with his hands clasped behind his back then addressed the startled group. “Has Dr. Albright developed some theories about the assailant?”
Josie shook her head then studied her nails. The jubilant mood present during David’s presentation vanished. No one spoke.
“Then I would suggest this Star Wars knock-off.” He paused and made a sweeping gesture toward the row of electronics. He studied the gleaming new machines thoughtfully with an elbow propped in his hand and a finger against his lips then slowly shook his head before he continued.
Anger surged through me like a bolt of lightning.
“All of this is worthless unless it helps us track down people to interrogate about this crime. Or crimes, I should say. A young man has been gunned down. Babies have been left to freeze to death in bizarre places. We are no better off than if we lived in the 1800s.” His hand swept the room. “What good does all this do?
“You are entirely out of line, Dr. Ferguson. Sit down. Let the rest of the men give their reports.” Surprised, he spun around to face me. “Take your seat, please.” Ladies have more authority than street fighters but maintaining the façade was tough. I wanted to deck him.
I studied the cowed faces of all these men who looked like they had just been dressed down by General Patton. David headed to his chair like a prairie dog ducking into his hole. Josie was the most self-confident person I knew, yet even she was silent. Her eyes were concealed behind a professional glaze that hid her thoughts.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. Next on the agenda, he strode purposely toward the podium. He drew his white handkerchief from the pocket of his leather vest and gave his sheriff’s star a little polish as though to remind everyone that this was his office, his building. He was still the main man. Duly elected year after year.
“Well now,” he said to Ferguson. “Them’s mighty discouraging words there, son. It’s clear you come from the city and ain’t used to applying a little energy to make things work out. Things are different out here. We’re used to things not going our way. In fact our state motto is Ad Astra per Aspera. Means to the Stars through Diffi
culties. Most generally we come out on top. But don’t worry. We still think kindly of you.”
I looked at Keith who was covering his smile with his hand. We had seen Sam’s John Wayne act before. Moreover, he could switch to well-educated English at will. My gaze switched to Dorothy who had caught on at once. She began the applause that echoed around the room.
Sam gave an acknowledging dip of his head. “Now, on to the business at hand. As far as ‘tangible clues’ go.” He paused long enough to shoot Ferguson a hard look, then put a photo under a projector, switched on the light, and threw up an image on the screen. “I would like to offer this explanation of how someone managed to put a baby in Reaching Woman’s arms.”
He picked up copies of the picture and starting passing them down the table with the sequence ensuring that Ferguson would be the last to receive a paper. “Now, I want you all to pay attention to the marks on the area next to Reaching Woman. She’s only reaching with one arm. Her other hand is clinging to a bar that links some of the sculptures. She’s in a hell of a mess because an octopus has a tentacle wrapped around her. By the way, she’s one of the prettiest of the women with a little pink in her cheeks. This wasn’t discovered until the Kohler Foundation started removing all the crud from the concrete.”
“Do they own the place?”
“No, they deeded it back to the community. To Old Man Dinsmoor, by the way, the octopus represented the trusts and monopolies that were wrapping its tentacles around the globe. Reaching Woman has to step right careful to keep her balance. She don’t know where she’s goin’.”
“I’ve been there.” Scott Smith, the Bidwell county sheriff thumped his fist on the table.
“Not knowing where you were going or the Garden of Eden?” asked Justin Harold. The men guffawed.
“Both, smart ass. The highlight of the whole display is the Liberty Tree Sculpture. Bankers and lawyers and politicians crucifying labor on a cross of gold. Lady Liberty is spearing a trust in the head while voters are attacking its flank with ballots.”
Fractured Families Page 15
