by Diane Morlan
The inside wall of the store was completely filled with German nutcrackers. Signs near each section indicated the manufacturer: Ulbricht, Steinbach, KWO and others. Each company had its own unique style. Some nutcrackers reflected professions: fireman, doctor, cowboy. Others showcased nationalities: Irish, Swiss, even a Native American.
I picked up a wooden figurine of a Policeman. It was made by Steinbach, but wasn’t a nutcracker. Looking close I saw that it was an incense burner. Next to it was an aviator incense burner. I made a mental note; if Megan and Don were still together next December, I’d get the cute little pilot incense burner for her Christmas gift.
I found a display case that held beer glasses and steins. Pilsner, wine, and highball glasses, as well as clear glass beer mugs. The bottom two shelves held steins with intricate designs including wildlife, military and city scenes. No Coca-Cola stein.
On a low built-in counter under the nutcrackers were more Hermann souvenirs and an array of German chocolate candy. I pulled myself away and went to the counter. I knew Mr. Glessner. This wasn’t my first time in this store. But, it was always a delightful experience.
“Mr. Glessner, do you carry this stein?” I asked handing him the picture.
“It’s a very nice piece. But, I wouldn’t carry this here.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was made in Brazil, not Germany. Almost everything in here is made in Germany.”
“Brazil? Why would Brazilian’s make beer steins?”
“There are lots of Germans in South America. I don’t carry beer steins made in the United States either, just Germany.”
“Do you know where I might find one of these steins?”
“Have you tried the Internet? You might find one on eBay.”
“Already tried that. But thanks.”
Back in my car, crossing another store off my list, I wondered if Laura even wanted this stein if it wasn’t made in Germany. I don’t know where Laura had seen this stein, but I was beginning to doubt that it was here in Hermann.
I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and found Biergarten Restaurant in my contacts list. I hit the button and a few seconds later Laura picked up her phone.
“Biergarten Restaurant, Laura speaking. May I help you?”
“Hi, Laura. It’s Jennifer.”
“Jennifer! Did you find my beer stein?”
“No I haven’t but I did find out that it was made in Brazil, not Germany. I just wanted to check and see if you still want it.”
“Of course I want it. I don’t care where it was made or even when. I just want it.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure so I thought I’d better check.”
“Thanks, Jennifer, but my steins aren’t all from Germany. They came from all over the world. I just buy the ones I like.”
Okay, so the steak and lobster dinner was still a possibility. I would keep looking. “Okay, Laura. I’ll check out the rest of the places on my list. I’ll call you when I find it.”
“There’s no hurry, Jennifer. I know you’re busy with Polka Daze. Just look for it when you’re near the places I listed. I don’t want you to go to too much trouble over this. It’s not that important.”
“It’s no problem, Laura,” I lied. “Actually, I’m enjoying the stores I’ve been to.” Which was true. “I’m on a mission now. I will find the stein.”
I put the car in reverse and turned to look out the back window. When someone tapped on my window and called my name I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Jennifer! Jennifer! Open the window!” Natalie Younger was tapping away on my window. Just what I needed to make my day complete.
I rolled down the window about two inches and said, “I can’t talk right now, Natalie. I’m in a hurry. I have to get to the Fest Grounds.”
“Just tell me what’s going on, Jennifer. Did Bernie get arrested? Did she whack that guy?”
I hit the button and rolled up the window then slowly backed out of the parking space. Natalie was still asking me questions when I waved at her and drove away.
On the way to the Fest Grounds, I called Mark Jensen, one of the college students who worked for me and asked him to meet me at the coffee booth. It would be a busy day and I needed extra help to be able to move around and not leave Sally to do all the work. As soon as Mark arrived, I grabbed Sally’s hand and I led her out of the Home Arts Building. We went around the corner of the building to a picnic table where we could sit and talk in some semblance of privacy.
“Do you know my friend, Sister Bernadine, Sally?”
Sally picked at a thread on her vest. “Of course I know her. I belong to St. Theresa’s. She taught my Catechism class.”
“Do you know that the police suspect that she killed Wes?”
“They can’t really believe that. Sister Bernadine wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“I know. And I’m trying to prove that she’s innocent. But I need your help.”
“How can I help? I wasn’t even here when his body was found, you were.
“That’s right. But I have some information that I need cleared up. Sally, I know this won’t be easy for you but I need to know how you met Wes.”
“I don’t like to talk about that. It’s sad and embarrassing.”
I leaned in closer and put my arm on her shoulder. “I know about your father, Sally. It’s okay, I understand.”
Sally, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and said, “Wes was a friend of my father’s. Dad was killed during a bank robbery. After that, Wes started coming around our house almost every day, usually about the time I got home from school. I was just a kid and the way he looked at me kind of gave me the creeps.” She shuddered.
“Did you tell you mother how you felt?” I asked.
“Sure. But she said I was being silly, that Wes just wanted to be nice to us. I was so angry that my father had been shot. I even got mad at my mother for sticking up for Wes. I was mad at the world for awhile.”
“Did your mother finally do something about Wes?’’ I asked.
“Yeah, finally. He started following me home from school and when I showed Mom the note he left in my locker one day, she called the police. I guess Mom finally figured he’d crossed a line.”
“Did you have to testify at his trial?”
“Yes, and it was horrible. The only good thing was that the judge cleared the courtroom and only the lawyers and the jury were there. But Wes scared me, the way he looked at me when I answered the questions the lawyers asked. His lawyer tried to say that I was the one chasing Wes. That I had a crush on him. That was so creepy.”
“But the jury believed you.”
“Yes, and I thought that was the end of it. Until he showed up for band practice when I was with Bobby. I almost threw up. I just quit coming to the band’s gigs and stayed away from Wes.”
“Didn’t Bobby wonder why?”
“Yes. I didn’t want Bobby to know about the trial. But Bobby thought that I wasn’t interested in him anymore, so I finally had to tell him about Wes and how he stalked me. Bobby was furious and I think he said something to Wes, because he never talked to me or anything after that first time. So, I started going with the band again. I think Bobby and I are even closer than before.”
“I’m sure the detectives have asked you this, Sally. Where were you on Thursday night when Wes was killed?”
Sally looked down and said, “We just went home. I mean, he dropped me off at my place then he went home. I was tired and we didn’t want to stop and eat with the others and stay out half the night. We both had to work on Friday—we’ll, I thought I had to work. I didn’t know the building would be closed.”
“Did your mother hear you come in? Did she know what time that was?”
“Mom wasn’t there. She went to Minnetonka to visit her sister. My aunt hasn’t been well lately. She has cancer and the chemo is pretty hard on her. Mom went to take care of her for a few days.”
I walked with Sally back to the Home
Arts Building and found Mark having a rush of business. We all pitched in and after about a half hour business slowed down and I headed for my car to pick up Megan. When I passed the mid-sized tent I glanced in, half expecting to see Natalie sitting there as she was last night. Instead I watched as Clara from Ray’s band walked toward the entrance.
“Hi, Clara.” I greeted her.
“Hi.” She walked past me. I figured she didn’t remember me.
“Clara,” I called to her. “Do you have a minute?”
“Me? What for?”
“I’m Jennifer. I met you at the keg tapping on Thursday night.”
Oh, ya’. You’re the one who found Wes. What can I do for you?” She looked around as if to find a way to get away from me.
“You know that the police think my friend, Sister Bernadine killed Wes. Can I ask you a couple questions?”
“What kind of questions? I really don’t know anything and I’ve talked to the police several times.”
“No, not about Wes. I was at the closing last night in the big tent. How long have you known Trudy?” I asked.
“Trudy? Oh, gee, we’ve been friends since high school. She’s a little older than me, so we didn’t hang around until high school,” Clara answered
“Do you know why she has such an attitude about the Fest Meister?”
Clara snorted. “You bet. She and Frank were an item in high school. They were the prom king and queen. He was the star center of the hockey team and she was the head cheerleader. It was a storybook romance, without the happy ending.”
“What happened?”
“College happened. Frank went to college on a hockey scholarship at the University of Minnesota. He had dreams of playing in the NHL. Trudy went to Hermann Community College and got her Associates Degree in Office Systems. Then Frank met Ida. I don’t know how they got together but he fell in love with Ida and that’s all she wrote. Hook, line and sinker he fell. They got married, she got pregnant and Frank had to quit school to support them. Ida was from the Twin Cities but they moved here when he dropped out of college.
“The problem was that Frank never broke up with Trudy. He just quit writing and calling and then he shows up here with a pregnant wife. Trudy was not only heartbroken. She was shocked and embarrassed.
“That had to be horrible for her.”
“It was. She married Ray about six months later. Right after Frank and Ida’s baby was born. They’ve had a good life and I believe she really loves Ray. Now. But it was hard for her. At the time, she thought everyone in town was laughing at her behind her back. No one was laughing at her.”
“Maybe not.” I said, “But pity can be worse.”
“You betcha. So now you can see why she don’t particularly like old Frank, our show off Fest Meister.”
“What about Frank and Ida. Are they still married?”
“Ida died a few years ago. Cancer. But Frank was crazy about her all these years. Anything she wanted, he gave her. Worked his butt off, he did. And she was plenty demanding. I think today they’d call her ‘high maintenance.’”
15
I drove over to Megan’s house. I knocked twice, turned the handle of the back door and walked in calling, “It’s me!” I was immediately surrounded by my favorite fragrance, chocolate.
“You’ve been baking,” I said, giving her a hug.
“You’re just in time to test-taste my espresso brownies. Don always dunks his pastry in his coffee so I thought I’d invent these for him.”
She plopped a pan of brownies on the counter. I sat down on a white padded bar stool. Megan’s bar stools were so comfortable we could sit here for hours. Besides being padded, they had wooden arms and swiveled.
Megan pored us each a big cup of java, adding a dollop of coffee liqueur for good measure to each cup. Then she cut into the brownies and put a large square in front of me. Picking it up with my fingers, I took a big bite. Yummy rich chocolate and a hint of coffee.
Munching on a delicious brownie I said, “So, things are back on with Don?” Megan frowned at me. “What do you mean? It was never off.”
“Well, you were with that other guy on Thursday night. I just thought…”
“Jennifer, you think too much. Al was just for fun. Both of us were just looking for a diversion.”
“Al? Did you say Al? Al Metzger?”
“Yeah. Do you know him? Oh, lord, you’re blushing. Don’t tell me you fell for his line?”
Sitting up straighter on the bar stool, I straightened out my shirt and said, “Of course not. I just met him last night and we talked for a few minutes.”
“Hah! Al doesn’t talk, he flirts and gropes.” Megan laughed and pointed her finger at me.
“Well, he didn’t grope me! But he did flirt. Later I saw him driving through the fest grounds with one of the Polka Daze princesses.”
“He’s a real player,” Megan said.
“He’s more than a player. He’s a suspect.” I told Megan about Al and Wes not getting along. “But, wait a minute. You were with Al on Thursday night. Guess that gets him off my suspect list.”
Megan looked like she was about to say something, then shook her head.
Changing the subject, I asked, “How did you make these wonderful brownies? I didn’t even know you baked.”
“I cheated, of course. I started with, ‘Open one package of brownie mix...’ Then I added some espresso and other goodies. I even put some coffee liqueur in the frosting. Do you like it?”
“It’s wonderful! You need to write down the recipe so I can make them.”
Halfway through my second brownie, Megan’s phone chirped. She looked at the screen, giggled, and then started tapping the keys.
I waited a few minutes, thinking she was being a little rude letting me sit there staring at her while messages went flying back and forth. Finally she noticed I was getting impatient and brought the session to an end.
I assumed it was Don that took her full attention. “Why didn’t he just call if he wanted to talk to you?”
“He’s on a plane, on his way to Las Vegas.”
“You’re kidding! He’s texting while flying a plane?”
Megan snickered while pouring another cup of coffee for me along with another dollop of coffee liqueur. “No, he bummed a ride to Las Vegas. He’s meeting some friends from college for a guy thing. He’s just waiting for take-off. And he wasn’t texting he was sexting.”
“What the heck is that?”
“Sexy talk.”
“You mean you were having phone sex while I was sitting right here? That’s so disgusting.”
Sometime I wish I couldn’t read upside down. I glanced at Megan’s phone and saw, “I can’t wait to kiss your pretty…” I jerked my head back and gasped.
The corners of Megan’s eyes crinkled as she grinned at me, showing no remorse what so ever. “Quit being such a prude. You sound like Bernie.”
Realizing she was right, I laughed with her. “Just promise me you won’t send him any naked pictures.”
“I may be silly but I’m not stupid. Those things can follow you around the rest of your life.”
After we pigged out I told her about Sally and Bobby. They were each other’s alibi but both had said they were alone after Bobby dropped off Sally. “But something was wrong. Sally wouldn’t look at me while she told me about Bobby dropping her off. I can’t believe that sweet Sally could do something as horrible as murdering someone.”
When I finished telling her all I had learned since yesterday, she poured us each a glass of Madeira wine. She said it was the perfect dessert wine. “How did Wes know Sally’s father?”
“I don’t have a clue. I suppose he was a guard or patron at the bank.” We both looked at her computer at the same time.
When we Goggled “bank robbery + Hermann, MN” there were only two hits. One in 1928 and the other four years ago.
“I remember that,” Megan said. “It was a big deal around here. Do you remember it?”
“Vaguely. This happened about the time I was busy planning Beth’s wedding. I’m glad I only had one daughter. If Nick ever gets married, all I have to do is show up.”
“You keep thinking that, Sweetie.” Megan said, patting me on the back. She had three kids, two boys and a girl. Carrie was the only one still single.
As we perused down the newspaper article we came to his name. “David Baumgartner, well known to the police due to numerous arrests for misdemeanors from DWI to bad checks, was shot and killed by the bank guard, Roger Olmsted. The two other robbers got away in a black sedan.”
“Oh, Lord, Sally’s father was the bank robber,” I said. “That must have been difficult for her family. No wonder Wes had been able to weasel his way into their trust.”
“And no wonder Sally’s mother clung to him and refused to believe Sally might be in danger,” Megan added.
“I think Wes may have been one of the bank robbers.”
“Whoa, that’s jumping to a big conclusion, Sweetie.”
“I know, but I have a feeling this is all related somehow. I’m going over to talk to Marty.”
“Are you nuts? Edwin will never let you in the house. What are you going to say, ‘Did your husband rob a bank before he got sent up for stalking little girls?’ I’m coming with you. This I have to see.”
“Give me some credit. I know how to be tactful, unlike some people I know. And if you insist on going with me, watch what you say. I don’t want to spook her. By the way, Edwin goes to twelve o’clock Mass every Sunday.”
“You’re kidding.”
‘Nope, he tries to keep up his image as a pious man. I doubt if anyone but Edwin believes that.”
We left Megan’s house and walked toward my car. I noticed the bags from the Christmas Shop, again. “Meg, I need to run these over to my place. I keep forgetting them. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed the bags and pulled them out of the car. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground. I bent over, picking it up from the grass, not wanting to litter Megan’s front yard. It looked like a receipt but I remembered putting that in my purse after I signed the charge slip. Unfolding the paper, I read in thick black lettering, “STOP SNOOPING!!!”
