by Diane Morlan
Megan rolled her eyes at me. “It was the first night of Polka Daze. Where else would I be but in the big tent until it closed.”
“Oh, good Lord, you must have seen Wes! He was in the Windig Sangers Band.”
“I probably did. Actually I wasn’t paying too much attention to the people on the stage. I was busy with the guy sitting next to me.”
“Don? How did you drag him to Polka Daze? He hates that music.”
“Don’s in Reno. I went alone but hooked up with a guy—a young, good-looking guy. Are you going to drink this?” she asked reaching for my wine cooler.
Handing her my bottle I asked, “How can you cheat on Don? I thought it was the real thing this time.”
“Maybe it is, I don’t know. But I was lonely and Al was there and he was so cute—and young.”
“How young?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t check his ID. But he was flirty and cute and it was fun. Guess you can call me a cougar, too.”
“I can’t believe you cheated on Don? How could you?”
“Hey! Don’t go getting on my case. I’m not Edwin or Marty. I’m not married and I can do as I please!”
Time for me to shut up. She might be right. Maybe I was projecting Edwin on her. But I hate cheating, it’s so low.
Changing the subject, I asked her what else she knew about Detective Decker.
“Not much. He’s somewhat of a mystery. He moved here a couple months ago to take the detective job when Harvey Marshall retired. I got my hair done last week and one of the girls at Hair Haus told her customer that he came from Chicago. But that’s about all anyone knows. She said he lives alone and apparently he doesn’t party. He sounds boring, if you ask me.”
I guess I had asked her. But I didn’t think that someone was boring just because they didn’t hang out in bars. Of course, I didn’t say that to Megan. “Okay, so we need to figure out how to help Bernie.”
“Jennifer, I have no idea how to catch a killer. You’re the one who watches all those crime shows on TV.”
“We need to find out what the argument between Bernie and Wes was all about. Do you think she’d tell you? She clammed up on me last night when I asked. Of course that was before he got killed.”
“I can try. I’ll go over to her place tomorrow and see if I can get her to talk,” she said.
“I’ll try to find out about Wes. I can start with Trudy, the lady with the booth next to mine. Her husband leads the band and probably hired Wes. If she can’t help me maybe she can tell me who can. We can compare notes later tomorrow and figure out where to go from there.”
Megan downed the last of my wine cooler and grabbed the empty bottles. “I’m outta here,” she said moving toward the front door. “Off to the Fest Grounds for more fun and games.”
“Have fun,” I called to her. “Behave yourself.”
“Make up your mind, Jennifer. I can’t do both.” She waved and shut the door.
8
I went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. When I saw the magnet on the fridge advertising a pizza place in Park Rapids, MN, I thought about my daughter, Beth. She’d gone to Hermann High School for her senior year where she met Ken Trager. They got married right after graduation. Beth and Ken were living “up North” as Minnesotans say when referring to any place north of the Twin Cities.
They ran a resort near Park Rapids and the owner told them he’d give them first chance to buy if he decided to sell. They spent the summer renting, cleaning and maintaining the cabins and grounds. During the winter months, they made repairs, shoveled snow and rented cabins to hunters.
Maybe Beth knew Wes. He was older than her but girls always knew the older guys. Or not. Given what Megan had said about cougars, maybe that wasn’t true anymore.
Ken answered the phone and when Beth got on the line I explained what had happened to Bernie, I asked her about Wes. “I didn’t know him, Mom. Oh, I knew about him. He’s older and was already out of school when we moved here. He hung around with a bunch of other dropouts who were always getting into trouble. My friends and I stayed away from that bunch of losers. I do remember the bank robbery, though. Maybe Nick knows more about him.”
Nick is my son. He’s two years older than Beth and was in college at Northern Illinois University when we moved here. He decided to stay in Illinois, but spent summers with us until he graduated. Now he works as an accountant. But unlike his father, he’s working toward an MBA. He has a great job as a comptroller at a riverboat casino in northern Indiana, a few miles from the Illinois border.
“I doubt if Nick knows him. He didn’t spend much time here. But I’ll give him a call.”
“Are you okay, Mom? It must have been gross to find a dead body. Yuck.”
“Well, it sure wasn’t pleasant. But the worst part is that the police are looking at Sister Bernadine as a suspect.”
“Oh, Mom, that’s just crazy. She couldn’t hurt a flea. She was such a big help to me when I was getting ready for my wedding.”
“She was?” I asked. “I don’t seem to remember her being so helpful. She wasn’t even around much. Didn’t she have that summer Bible day camp for teens about that time?”
“Yes, she did. But I needed her wisdom, not her hands.”
“Beth, what are you talking about?”
“Well, you know. It was getting close to the wedding and the invitations were out and the flowers were ordered and everyone was so busy when I suddenly thought, ‘What the hell and I doing?’ I had all these fears and was ready to run away. So, I went to see Sister Bernie and she told me to look at what I wanted from life. She said not to be influenced by what others wanted for me but to think about what I wanted from my life.”
“Did that help? I never knew…”
“Yes, it did. We prayed together then she let me know that what I was feeling was normal and not to worry. She assured me that marrying Ken was a good thing and that I wouldn’t regret it. She was right. I’ve never been happier.”
“Wow! I never knew you had the last minute jitters. You acted so unruffled.”
“I was unruffled after I talked to Sister Bernie.”
“Why didn’t you come to me, Beth?” I asked.
“Oh, Mom. You were practically a basket case with all the details to attend to. I didn’t want to get you all freaked out, too.”
“I wouldn’t have been ‘freaked out’, as you put it. I could have told you—”
“You could have told me a lot of things, but I didn’t want to put more pressure on you. You were so busy and I didn’t want to disappoint you. It all worked out fine.”
“Oh alright, I see your point,” I said, not really seeing the point. I was her mother, after all. “But what made you decide to talk to Bernie? She obviously didn’t have any personal experience in that area.”
“Oh, yes she did. She left her family and friends and went into the convent while practically everyone in her life was trying to change her mind. I knew she’d understand. And even though I love Megan, I think I was afraid to confide in her because she might have told me to bail. I wanted to marry Ken. I think I just needed someone to tell me I was doing the right thing.”
“I never knew,” I stammered.
“You weren’t supposed to, Mom. You had enough to worry about.”
“How is everything going way up there in the north woods?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Great. We had an ultrasound yesterday and you can actually see the baby! I’ll scan it and email it to you. It’s awesome. You know, you need to get a Facebook page so you can see all the pictures of Ken and me and the resort.”
“I know, Honey but it’s so much work. And I’m so busy.”
“Mom. It’ll only take ten minutes. And you’ll be glad you did once you get it done. Have Megan get you signed up if you don’t know what to do. She’s a whiz with computers and online stuff.”
I bristled. “I don’t need Megan to help me. I’m sure I can follow the instruction
s and get signed up. After all, every seventh grader is on Facebook.”
“Okay. I’ll look for your friend request.” I’m sure I heard her giggle.
“Mom, there’s something else I want to talk to you about, but I’m not sure I should.”
“Oh, Beth, you know you can tell me anything,” I said, surprised again that she was reluctant to share with me. She’d never had a problem telling me her secrets, or had she? I only knew what she told me, not what she chose not to share.
“Daddy came up here last weekend.”
“That’s terrific. I’m sure you had a good time. I don’t want you to take sides, Beth. Our problems are between us. We don’t want you and Nick to feel that you have to choose between us. We both love you.”
“I know that, Mom. The problem is that he brought his girlfriend with him. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You mean Marty? I know about her. I hope you were nice to her.” I knew about the new girlfriend. She was a waitress at one of the restaurants that bought coffee from me.
“It wasn’t Marty that I was upset with. For cripes sake, she’s almost as young as me!”
“Your father is going through a mid-life crisis. I think he feels that he’s getting old. The new flashy car and the young flashy girlfriend make him feel young again.”
“How can you be so nice about it? I think it’s horrible and I wanted to yell at him.”
“Well, don’t yell at him, I already did that. It didn’t do any good. Just give him some time. You two have always been so close. Don’t lose that feeling.”
“Mom, that closeness ended a long time ago. Actually Daddy’s been different since we moved to Hermann. I just don’t know what’s up with him.”
“I don’t know either, Sweetie. But he’s your father so be nice to him.”
“I will and I was but it was such an uncomfortable situation. I gave them a cottage to use while they were here. I couldn’t bear to have them sleep together in my house. Gross! Now I know why you wouldn’t let Ken sleep over before we got married.”
“I’m sorry that he put you in such an awkward situation, Beth.”
“It was more than awkward, Mom. The second night they were here, Ken and I went for a walk before we went to bed. When we went past their cottage we heard Daddy yelling at her. Marty was yelling back and I could tell she was crying, too. It sounded like they were arguing about money. I could hardly look at them at breakfast the next morning.”
“I’m sure you were your usual polite self, dear.”
“Polite, yes but not friendly. I was relieved when they left. I love him and was really looking forward to his visit but I wish he had come alone.”
“Beth, have you thought that maybe he was looking for your approval?”
“My approval? When did I become the parent?”
“These things are very complicated. Our emotions get all mixed up with our expectations. Just hang in there. It will all sort itself out. Try to be patient with him.”
“I don’t know what to do when he wants to come up again.”
“I’m sure you and Ken will figure it out, Beth.”
“Mom, do you think you and Daddy will get back together?”
“No, Honey, it’s over for us. Too much water under the bridge and all that, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Part of me would like things to go back how they were. But, I think you’re happier now that he’s out of your life. Are you seeing anyone? I mean, it’s none of my business, but—”
“No, I’m not dating, yet. But I probably will eventually. I’m just not ready to get involved with anyone yet. I’m enjoying the freedom to do as I please.”
“Well, when you start dating, find a guy like Ken. Then you can still do as you please. He’s the best.”
After we hung up, I found the Facebook Home page and set up my account. Beth was right; it only took a few minutes. I spent the next hour looking for people I knew and sending out friends requests.
I finally remembered to call Nick. When I punched his number into my cell, it went right to voice mail. Nick must have turned it off. I left a brief message asking him to call me when he got a chance. And since I was still sitting at the computer desk, I sent him an email briefly describing the events of the day and asking him if he’d ever run into Wes during his summers in Hermann.
I set the phone down and jumped as it immediately rang. Caller I.D. showed it was Bernie, at last. “Are you okay?” I asked without even saying “Hello.”
“I’m fine, Jennifer. Just tired and cranky. I wanted to let you know I finally got out of the sheriff’s office. Right now, I’m on my way over to the rectory. Father Werner wants to meet for ‘a little talk.’ I can only imagine how unpleasant that'll be.”
“Can’t you put him off until tomorrow? You must be bushed.”
Father Werner, old, stubborn and cantankerous, ruled his dwindling realm with a heavy hand. Most of the people involved in the parish were volunteers. Only Sister Bernadine and three administrative assistants were on the payroll.
“No, you know how he is. I’d just as soon get it over with, or I’ll worry about it all night. After he bawls me out, I can go home and get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I thanked her for calling and let her go. I dug receipts from expenses and sales out of my purse. As usual, I had been stuffing them in my purse for the past week. I needed to enter them into my ledger so my accountant didn’t give me another lecture.
I knew I needed to send out “past due” notices to several restaurants whose payments were overdue but it was a task I didn’t relish. A few businesses were always late in paying me. The restaurant business could be dicey. One day they are the “in” place to go until next week when diners move on to another place. Also, when the economy fluctuates dining out is the first thing people cut in order to save money. I’m good about making arrangements with these businesses and had kept my customers while they went through tough times.
I heated up some left over sweet and sour pork in the microwave and half-heartedly ate some supper. My drink of choice is hot coffee with a dollop of cream. Although in theory I’m generally against caffeine-free anything, I chose to go the caffeine-free coffee route this late in the evening or I’d never get to sleep. I kept thinking about Bernie being so stubborn. Why was she being so secretive about the fight with Wes?
And what about this Detective Decker? Why was I so attracted to him? I went back to the computer and Googled his name. I found several articles in the Chicago Tribune about him. Sergeant Decker received several awards for bravery from the Chicago Police Department. He’d been involved in the Chicago Boys Club and several other local youth programs.
It appeared that he was quite involved in his job and his community. Why would he leave there to move to Hermann? Further down I noticed a story about a trial that took place about a year ago. One of the witnesses was Detective Jerome Decker. What had happened to Sergeant Decker, I wondered. Checking Wikipedia, I found that in Chicago a Detective isn’t a ranking officer. It appeared that Detective Decker had been demoted. Curious, very curious.
My eyes were starting to cross, I was so tired. I’d have to search for more information about Detective Decker another time. I turned off the computer and went to my bedroom. I donned my Betty Boop pajamas and thought about what I would be wearing if Jerry Decker were here. “Stop!” I told myself, I didn’t need those images in my head keeping me awake.
9
Saturday
Reaching into the trunk of my Civic, I pulled out the folding crate cart I had picked up at Office Max on my way to the Fest Grounds. I swore I’d never use one of these wire “granny” carts my mother had embarrassed me by pushing all over town. I was grateful when I found this file box on wheels. I couldn’t deal with lugging heavy boxes across the Fest Grounds one more time. I looked down at my shoes and although the bleach had taken out the bloodstain, I could still see it. I thought I might
have to go shopping soon and get another new pair of sneakers.
To my surprise, without the struggle of carrying forty pounds of coffee bags, I enjoyed the hike across the Fest Grounds. Potted flowers were everywhere. Bright red azaleas, purple hydrangeas, and salmon-colored impatiens danced in flowerpots lining the walkway and clustered at the entrances to tents and buildings.
Workers were setting up their food stands and the smell of flowers mixed with the odor of hot grease. I turned the corner and had the Home Arts Building in sight when I heard someone call my name.
“Jennifer, wait up! I want to ask you something.”
I knew that voice. Damn. “Hello, Natalie.” I said, catching myself from calling her Greta. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I seem to be late.”
She skipped into step next to me. Today she wore an azure tank top neatly tucked into her spotless, crisp white Capri pants, and again sported patent leather pumps. Once more I felt dowdy in faded blue jeans and a t-shirt that read “Hard Polka Café, Hermann, Minnesota.”
“No problem.” Natalie chirped. “I’ll just walk with you. So, what’s up? Did Bernie whack that musician or what?”
“Bernie did no such thing, Natalie. And don’t you go spreading rumors either.”
“Why, I would never do that, Jennifer. You know me, I‘m the soul of discretion. But I heard she’d been arrested and taken off to jail. I knew something was going on when she got into that fight and now the guy turns up dead. At your booth, of all places.”
“Natalie, you sure can twist things around. The deputies wanted to ask Bernie some questions. She hasn’t been arrested and is now at home.”
“What about the dead guy? He’s the one she had the fight with, isn’t he?”
“ That little disagreement had nothing to do with Wes being killed. And I have no idea why whoever killed him decided to do it in the Home Arts Building.”
