An Iron Fist, Two Harbors

by Dennis Herschbach

  “The coroner, Jeff, and quite frankly, I, too, don’t think there is much doubt of what happened. Jake’s crime was committed years ago when he was a kid. Since then he’s been a model of decency. He had to live with a lot of guff since his release from prison, and I think his life was so empty he simply couldn’t cope any longer. I’m sorry, but that’s about all I know. Mostly, I, we, just wanted to get together with you. By the way, Jeff shared with me things pertaining to you.” It was like a wave of fear passed over Dave’s face, and Deidre kicked herself for having opened her mouth.

  “Like, what did he tell you?” Dave blurted out.

  Deidre was in too deep to back out now. “He said after Maren disappeared, you were his primary suspect.”

  “I really expected that.” Dave interjected. He laughed self-consciously. “I’ve watched enough TV mysteries to know it’s always the husband or boyfriend.” Then he quickly wanted to know what Jeff had said.

  “He said he had made a thorough investigation of you, even searched your car and your apartment. He also said that he thought your panic and grief was genuine, and that there is no doubt in his mind that you had no part in Maren’s being missing.”

  Deidre saw Dave’s shoulders visibly relax. “How about you, Deidre, or Ben? Does that change how you feel about me?”

  She hadn’t seen that question coming and was relieved when Ben came to the rescue. “I have to admit, and I’m guessing Deidre does too, that we had a sliver of doubt. We haven’t talked about it, and this is the first time it’s come up.” Deidre nodded. “But I think I can speak for the both of us,” he continued. “We didn’t want you to be the one. We really love you and want to remain friends. It’s like you’re a connection to Maren. Hearing what Jeff told Deidre this morning only reinforces what we wanted to believe, do believe.”

  Dave rested back in his chair. It seemed as if his body drained of pent-up tension, and his eyes misted. “Thank you,” was all he said. There was a period when the three of them sat silently, and Deidre could hear the ticking of the wall clock. Dave looked at his watch.

  “Gosh, I hate to say this, but I’ve got to be at work early tomorrow. Thanks so much for everything, but I’d better be going.” This time he hugged Deidre like it meant something.

  After he left, Deidre noticed that Dave had hardly touched his cake and drank only a few sips of coffee. “I feel sorry for him,” she said to Ben. “I think he’s lost a lot of weight since we saw him last. Look at this. It’s his favorite cake, and he hardly touched it. I hope he’s okay.”

  Together, they straightened up the living room and made their way upstairs.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  IN A WAY, DEIDRE envied the other members of her family. Ben had the routine of work. True, when he left the house each morning, his step lacked enthusiasm and his shoulders sagged, but at least he had something to do to keep his hands and his mind busy.

  The boys were, well, boys, and although Deidre knew kids had a knack for burying their troubles and pretending nothing was wrong, she knew they, too, had a piece of their lives missing. But they had each other in their own make-believe world. She watched them play by the river, capturing minnows in a homemade trap, chasing down a hapless frog and kissing it to see if it would turn into a princess, exploring a world that to them was new every day.

  Megan had her routine in Duluth. As she gained experience, she had moved up from chief test tube and beaker washer and now was actually working with a researcher. She put in long hours, but at least she was busy—and with other people.

  Dave had gained status with the accounting firm, partly because of his ability, mostly because of his work ethic. It seemed every time Deidre called to invite him to dinner or a family occasion, he was going to be working late, had just gotten home from work, or had a similar excuse for not joining them.

  But—and Deidre knew it was her own fault for withdrawing—she had too much time to brood. After Ben left for work and the neighbor picked up Jack and Steve for ball practice, she wandered down to the river. She tended to avoid their favorite picnic spot, but found a new clump of cedars to sit under. They were so close to the river that at one location the swirling water washed a few roots clean. Sometimes she sat in the coolness for an hour or more.

  It had been a long time since she spoke to Pastor Ike and he had shared his theology with her. She grappled with the idea of a God who wasn’t all-knowing, who couldn’t cause good things to happen, who couldn’t prevent bad things from happening. All this made her wonder who, or what, God really was. Did God even exist? If God could have prevented what happened to Maren and didn’t, what was the reason? If there is a reason, it better be a damn good one, she thought.

  Eventually, she would get tired of trying to find answers and return to the house. Perhaps she would work in her garden a little, fix a sandwich for lunch, watch the mid-day news on TV while she ate, and begin to think about what to fix for supper. Maren was never far from her mind.

  Deidre knew she should be getting out more than she was, that she was rapidly becoming a recluse, and that wasn’t healthy. But she had never been a tea-time person. She had tried to be a part of a group of women from church who met at Louise’s Café once a week, but their conversations about hemlines and heel height bored her to distraction. She didn’t particularly like the idea of getting a job that required her to be on a schedule, and the idea of volunteering didn’t appeal to her, either. She couldn’t picture herself visiting residents in a nursing home, and even that made her feel guilty.

  Today, she followed her lonely routine. It was time to start supper, and she was going to make one of Ben’s favorites, pasties. She had already rolled out the dough for the crust and was in the process of chopping the vegetables for the filling. The two halves of a rutabaga lay on her cutting board, and Deidre was getting ready to quarter it and then reduce it to half-inch cubes when an idea struck her. She put down the knife she was wielding and sat down at the table.

  She began to doodle on a pad of paper. Deidre had always been a doodler—did her best thinking with a pencil in her hand. She absentmindedly began marking the paper while she thought, then realized she was drawing a crude map of the Drummond Road. As the pencil moved, a latent idea from somewhere in her mind came to the forefront.

  “Whoever left those tracks in the mud on the Spooner Road must have had a way back to town. That means whoever drove Maren’s car back there and left it either had an accomplice or hitched a ride.” Deidre realized she was talking out loud to herself and half smiled.

  “What if whoever did this walked out to the main road? That’d be about an hour-and-a-half hike. Maybe he intended to follow the Drummond to the paved road and hitch a ride from there.” Or maybe he’s a runner, someone who could cover ten miles in a couple of hours, she thought.

  Deidre returned to chopping the rutabaga, carrots, and potatoes. It was a miracle she didn’t slice a finger off. She was busy formulating a plan.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  BEN DOVE INTO HIS pasty as if he hadn’t eaten for a week, and Deidre almost laughed. It was good to see his appetite returning. He had lost so much weight after Maren disappeared that she had begun to be concerned. But then, when she looked in the mirror, she could see the same hollow eyes and sunken cheeks in her reflection. Ben finished one pasty and helped himself to half of another. Steve and Jack never needed an excuse to gorge themselves, and they ate with an intensity possessed only by growing boys. Deidre had invited Dave, but he said he was at the office and wouldn’t be home until after nine. She was beginning to wonder why he didn’t move to Duluth so he didn’t have to do so much driving.

  After supper, she and Ben took a walk, as they so often did. They enjoyed the physical contact of holding hands, but the best part of it was they could talk without being interrupted. Deidre couldn’t begin to count the number of problems they had worked out while wandering up the road.

  The late July soun
ds were comforting and ominous at the same time—comforting because they fit the rhythm of nature, ominous because they foretold the coming of fall. Deidre moved closer to Ben and threaded her arm through the crook of his.

  “I thought a lot about Maren today,” she said. “Wondered if they’ll ever catch the . . . murderer.” They walked several more steps. Ben didn’t answer. “Had an idea I might follow up on. Somebody abandoned her car in the woods, then walked out to the Drummond, remember? Of course you remember,” she said, realizing she had asked a rhetorical question. “Anyway, whoever came out needed a ride into town. It’s at least ten miles. I got to thinking, what if we put up some posters along the Drummond Road asking if anyone might have seen a man hitchhiking during the week Maren was taken? What do you think?”

  “It will be a long shot. First of all, it’s been over two months since it happened. Most people don’t remember what happened yesterday. Second, he probably would have been out on the road at night, or at least late evening. It’s so desolate nobody drives out there then.”

  Deidre’s heart began to sink, and she anticipated him saying it was probably a far fetched idea. Ben continued.

  “But I say go for it. We’re going to catch a break sometime, and we don’t know from where its going to come. Maybe we’ll get lucky. You gonna to tell Jeff?”

  Deidre said she thought he had enough to worry about without her going vigilante, but she would. Before they arrived home, she had designed the poster in her mind. All she had to do was transfer the design to her computer.

  *****

  AS SOON AS BEN LEFT for work the next morning, she woke up her computer and typed out the format for a poster. When she finished, she realized that it wasn’t very catchy, but thought it would have to do. She wanted to get rolling on her project. As her printer was spitting out the copies, she pulled one out of the stack so she could examine it.

  WANTED

  Information Relating to a Missing Person

  Did you or anyone you know see a man walking on the

  Drummond Road at night during the first week of May?

  This person may have been involved in an abduction.

  If you have any information, call Deidre Johnson.

  Phone: (218) 555-6120

  In minutes she had a stack of twenty-five, all she thought would be needed.

  “Boys,” she called. “We’re going to take a ride. Jump in the car. Let’s go.”

  “What’s up?” Jack wanted to know. This was an unexpected event.

  “We’re going to take a ride to Stewart Lake. Maybe a little farther. I’ve got some notices I want to put up this morning. Should be fun. You guys can wade around by the boat landing for a little while if you’d like.” She thought it wouldn’t hurt to use a carrot.

  Deidre counted how many places she’d put up the posters, and by the time they reached the turnoff to the lake, she had mentally reached her quota. Four miles in, they came to a hill and as they crested it, she could see blue water ahead. The wheels of the car had hardly stopped rolling before Steve and Jack spilled out of the backseat and were heading to the reeds along the shore.

  She took a couple of posters from the folder lying on the front seat and picked up the stapler she brought with. To the side of the boat ramp was a sign on which had been tacked warnings by the DNR to clean off boats and trailers. Another said to not dump minnows in the lake. Still another asked anglers to refrain from using lead weights. Deidre moved one of them to make room for her poster and drove staples into its corners to hold it in place. Then she stapled another to a large tree near by.

  She watched her sons lying on their bellies on the dock, and Jack fished a branch out of the water. “Mom, look at this,” he called.

  Deidre went over to see what they had. Jack held the branch in front of her face, too close for her eyes to focus on it. She pushed it away so she could see.

  “See that green stuff? Our science teacher brought a sample like this to school last spring. Feel it.”

  Deidre gently squeezed the mass, expecting it to be slimy, but instead she felt it crunch between her fingers.

  “Our teacher said this is a freshwater sponge, and what you felt crunching between your fingers was its skeleton that’s made out of tiny glass spikes. Pretty neat, huh?”

  “Pretty neat,” Deidre agreed. She roughed up Jack’s hair, and he looked up at her, a smile creasing his summer-tanned face. She thought this was the most beautiful moment of the summer.

  “Okay, guys, we’ve got more of these to put up. Let’s get going.” Before they got in the car, she saw the boys go over and read what her poster said. The magic was broken, and everyone was quiet as Deidre started the car.

  She tacked another poster to a wooden post beside the road near the stop sign, hoping that if anyone looked for oncoming traffic they’d see it. She put up posters near every intersection, anywhere that traffic was forced to slow down. An hour later, they were home. The boys decided to dig worms and try catching creek chubs in the river. Deidre walked to her favorite spot under the cedar trees.

  God, if you do anything, let the right person see my signs. She sat for another twenty minutes and decided to catch up with her sons. They wouldn’t be boys forever, and she was missing some of the best times of their lives at home.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  TWO DAYS AFTER SHE and the boys put up the posters, she began to wonder what response she might get, if any. At times during the day, the thought didn’t cross her mind as she went about her daily routine. She attended a ball game the boys played and cheered along with the other moms and dads. Jack was more of a natural, but Steve seemed to have more of a competitive edge about him. Deidre was glad things evened out, and on the way home she was able to find enough good things to say about their games that each boy was validated.

  Her afternoon was spent cleaning berries they had picked the day before, and then it was time to make supper, something she hadn’t planned ahead for. She scrambled to throw together a meal of some leftovers and fresh food. They had almost finished with dinner when her cell phone rang.

  “Always,” she grumbled. “Why do those telemarketers always call at mealtime?” She slid back from the table and searched for her phone.

  They call at mealtime because they know we’ll be home, Ben thought, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He heard Deidre answer the call.

  “Hello.” There was a long pause, and he could tell Deidre was trying to place what the call was about. Then he heard her voice become sharper. “Oh. Oh, yes. This is she. . . . Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting a call so soon. . . . I put them up only two days ago. . . .Yes, yes, by all means. Do you want me to come into town, or would you like to drive out here? . . . I appreciate your concern so much. Do you know where we live? . . . Right, just go west out of town toward the airport. . . . Yes, that’s the place. Right after you pass the large farm. We’ll be waiting for you. Thank you so much.”

  Ben tried to make sense of the call from Deidre’s reaction, but he couldn’t guess to whom she spoke.

  “What was that about?” he called from the table.

  “Quick, get the table cleared off. He’ll be here in less than twenty minutes.”

  Ben was moving, and he nodded his head at Jack and Steve that they better hop to or there might be trouble.

  “Who’s going to be here?”

  Deidre looked at Ben with an air of exasperation. “Him. The guy who picked up the runner.”

  Within minutes, the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher, the table was wiped clean, and Deidre was sliding the chairs into place.

  “Deidre, slow down, and get me caught up. I’m not sure what you’re talking about, and I’d like to know before ‘he’ gets here.”

  Deidre realized she was so flustered she didn’t know quite what she was saying. Deidre took a deep breath. “I told you the boys and I put up posters the day before yesterday.” She looked at Ben like she expected him to say he hadn’t been
listening. “I had on the poster that if anyone had information about a hitchhiker on the Drummond last May to call me. He just did, Ben. He just did! He’s coming here to tell us what he knows.” She thought a minute and asked, “Should I call Jeff and have him come out, too?”

  Ben tried to soothe her. “Listen, dear, by the time Jeff got here, if he’s even around, we’d have had to entertain this guy. Let’s just have some soft drinks for him, hear what he has to say, get his name and phone number. If we think what he has to say is important, then we call Jeff. Okay?”

  Without answering him, Deidre said to the boys, “Somebody important will be here soon. I want you to go to your room and play video games or something. Just do me a favor and stay out of the way for a while. If it gets late, you know the drill. And be sure to brush your teeth before getting in bed. I’ll change sheets tomorrow, so don’t worry about taking a shower tonight.”

  Steve looked at Jack and they smiled at each other, not knowing what was so important but thankful for the carte blanche they had just been handed. Though Ben and Deidre had decided the boys had a right to know what was going on, they would wait to share the information until they knew whether it had any bearing on Maren’s disappearance.

  Deidre tried to calm herself, but her hands were shaking. She filled an ice bucket with cubes and set out a couple cans of soda. After sticking her head out the door to test the weather, she decided they would be comfortable on the deck, and she and Ben sat on the swing. As they slowly moved back and forth, she thought of all the meetings that had taken place there the past summer. None of them had made any difference.

  She watched as a pickup truck slowed and then pulled into their driveway. It was a club-cab, probably a three-quarter-ton model. She could hear the clatter of its valves, a diesel. The driver climbed out and ambled across the lawn to where they sat, and Ben invited him to come up on the deck. He accepted a glass of ice and poured himself a diet drink.