S. A. Gorden

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S. A. Gorden Page 15

by The Duce of Pentacles


  Andrews was having a busy day. First that dirty little business with that scum, Shermon, in the morning and then the bulldog of a union lawyer at one o’clock in the afternoon. He relished the idea of screwing her, that uppity little bitch. She would have no idea that with Shermon safely out of state and Kawalski dead, they could ride out any suit brought against the board. To make sure she realized how weak her case had become, he would start by firing Lori Waithe. After all, there had to be something wrong with her character in order for a serial killer to mark her for death.

  Andrew thought he was destroying Sandra until an hour into the meeting.

  That was when Wayne Johnson showed up, apologizing for being late.

  “My wife, Vera, still isn’t feeling too well after finding that body.”

  “Wayne, what are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t Ms. Thomas tell you? Our CPA firm has been retained by both the teacher’s union and the State of Minnesota to run a complete audit of the school’s finances. Would you believe it, Jack? The Attorney General himself called to make sure we started the audit right away!”

  When Andrews looked again at Sandra, he expected to see a smile.

  Instead, all he saw was a grim face.

  “Mr. Andrews, I think you will be busy for some time with Mr. Johnson.

  Why don’t you call me tomorrow? And this time, you and the school board had better be a little more reasonable. After all, I’m just getting started working on this case. I would hate to be forced to stay up here away from my husband and kids for too long. I get a little cranky being away from my family for too extensive a period of time.” She then leaned closer whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but my husband says I get down right bitchy if I’m gone for more than two weeks.” In even a softer voice she continued, “Tomorrow it will be thirteen days since I’ve seen my family. Are you at all superstitious?”

  This time she smiled and in a louder voice said, “I’ve got to leave now and call my husband. I usually try to call twice a day. Mr. Johnson, I’ll be expecting a preliminary report before the end of the month. When I talked to the Attorney General yesterday, we both thought that would be a reasonable time frame.

  “Good day.”

  The two men from the district office pulled in at midmorning. They helped Mrs. Peterson load the back of the van with the family’s personal belongings. At noon they were ready to leave for the Arizona retreat. Tom Peterson was still shut up in his back office. Mrs. Peterson knocked on the door.

  “Honey? You remember I told you about the church retreat I wanted to go to? Well it is time to leave. The van is out front waiting. We are going to have a great time driving down. Two men from the district fellowship are also going to the retreat. It’s going to be like a revival trip. Remember that crusade we went on when you were still in Bible College? Honey? Honey?”

  They entered the dark room. One of the men questioned, “Tom? Tom? Your wife said you would lead a few choruses during the drive down. Tom?”

  A mumble came from the back of the room. As they came closer they heard, “This little light of mine I’m going to make it shine. This little light of mine I’m going to make it shine…” They gently led him from the room as he continued to sing. They nearly made it to the van before he suddenly screamed, “God will defend the righteous! His damnation will fall on all sinners!” As suddenly as the screaming started he started to softly sing again, “This little light of mine I’m going to make it shine, shine, shine.

  This little light of mine…”

  After they put him in the van, the men consoled Mrs. Peterson, “He’ll be all right. We’ve made arrangements with the local churches along the way.

  He’ll have a nice quiet room on every stop we make on the drive down.”

  They drove away. Somebody forgot to close the front door on the parsonage. It swung open a crack, an empty house hoping to be filled.

  It was late but it was also the far north. The sun hangs low over the horizon for hours after it has set for the rest of the lower forty-eight states. The extra daylight gives many northern dwellers a summer insomnia that lasts from late May to early July. Lori and Jim had just finished a supper meeting with their lawyer, Sandra. It was an hour later when Jim started his walk. There would be a couple more hours of bright sunlight followed by an extended period of twilight. Jim had been unable to stay confined indoors and had left Lori at her father’s and had gone for a walk alone to think.

  He felt cheated. The stories in the movies and books all ended with everything being all right after the bad guys were gone. From their talk with Sandra, Jim realized that both Lori’s and his problems had, in many ways, just started. The mechanical action of his legs pumping up and down somehow gave his frustration a temporarily outlet. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He tried to wipe the burning sweat away but only succeeded in smearing his glasses, disrupting his vision further.

  Jim pulled his shirt and glasses off. He used the wad of material to mop the sweat from his body. He found the only dry corner of his shirt, spat on his glasses, and patted them half way clean on the cotton material. As he wrapped the shirt around his head to keep the sweat from flowing into his eyes, he saw the truck. He knew immediately it was that pushy woman reporter.

  He laughed. Finally, something to do. Something he could actually do. There was a small public wooded area just a short ways down the road. He started walking to it.

  Every so often he would glance behind. The driver of the truck followed. They would turn down a side road or driveway until the truck was partially hidden by an obstruction. They would wait until he was nearly out of sight and then follow down the road to the next side road.

  Like lemmings, they followed him into the mass of roads and trails of the wooded area. He led them to a hiking/ski trail that had been blocked by rocks to keep ATV’s out. He watched from the bushes as Debbi tried to talk Carl into following him down the trail with the camera. She did get him to follow the trail for a few hundred feet. Jim used the time to let the air out of the truck’s two back tires.

  He left them with the mosquitoes. The gloom settled over him even thicker than the insects as he walked back into town. What was left for Lori and him? What about the money he still owed his father? What kind of work could he get and where?

  Jim walked back to his car. He wanted to go and see Lori but his depression was still too deep. He went home instead. He called Lori. She laughed about the trick he played on the reporter. The joy her laughter gave disappeared after he hung up the phone. He drifted to sleep sometime after midnight with the thought, “Tomorrow is Saturday.” Somehow things always seemed a little better when he visited his parents for the Saturday night sauna.

  Click. The hands rest on the cards as if in prayer. The card is turned over.

  An angel appears hovering between the clouds and the sun. His arms are outstretched in a blessing. Under his right arm is an apple tree with a snake.

  Standing before the tree is a naked woman looking up, her arms apart. Under his left arm is a tree with leaves of flame. A naked man stands in front, his arms apart. The angel with his flaming hair looks down upon the two.

  The hands rest on the cards before reaching for the light switch. A full minute of darkness passes before the steps leading to the door are heard.

  ––—

  CHAPTER 22: The Lovers

  Jim sat at the table in his parent’s kitchen nursing a cup of coffee.

  His father was talking about something that had happened at his church, but he didn’t hear. He examined the swirls the creamer had made when he stirred it into his cup. He heard a knock at the door. His mother left the table to answer it.

  When she came back, she had Lori with her. “Jim, why didn’t you tell us you knew Lori?”

  Before Jim could answer or even look up, she continued, “Now, you sit right there, dear. How long have you known Jim?”

  To Jim’s relief, his father interrupted. “Mother! The sauna is hot. Why don’t we l
et these two talk?”

  Jim’s mother was startled. She looked at the two younger folk, then the stern expression on her husband’s face. “Dears, why don’t you two talk while we go into the sauna?”

  Jim heard his mother giggle as from a great distance as they left the kitchen. He was trying to watch his coffee’s steam swirl into the air instead of Lori’s face. She reached across the table for his hand. “We need to talk,”

  she whispered.

  “Lori, we can’t be together … Have to stay apart. They fired you.

  They claimed it was because of Jones’ trying to kill you, but it was because you got involved in my court case against the school. And Jones went after you because he wanted to hurt me.”

  “You’re wrong, Jim. Kawalski tried to blackmail me into bed by threatening my job. That’s why I was in the case against the school. They fired me because I didn’t quietly leave. I’m the one who went after them. And Billy Jones was crazy. We’ll never know why he was trying to kill me.”

  “But I have nothing. Thomas told me that even if I win in court, I’ll probably never teach again and probably never get any money. I’m nearly forty.

  The only thing I know how to do is teach and they will never let me do that again. I’m broke. I owe hundreds of dollars in child support. Every month I owe hundreds more. Soon the court will issue a warrant for my arrest. My ex-wife didn’t believe me when I told her I have no money. My life is ruined.

  Everything I’ve touched in the last few years is gone. I’m just praying that I don’t bankrupt my parents. They loaned me the money for my trailer.”

  Lori just held his hand. Jim refused to look at her, but from the corner of his eye he could see the curve of her face framed by her cascading hair. Jim heard the backdoor open. His coffee was cold. How could his parent’s sauna be completed? It couldn’t have already been an hour. Could it? He looked at Lori and lost all resolve. Behind her glasses, she scrunched her face and smiled.

  “Jim, I threw in a couple of sticks of wood before we got dressed. The sauna should be just right,” his father said, slapping Jim’s back.

  Barely able to talk, Jim cleared his throat, “Thanks Dad.” Jim stumbled out the door. Lori followed. He wanted to stop her. He wanted to say something. He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. Instead, he just walked to the sauna.

  Inside the dressing room, Jim finally spoke. He had wanted to say so much. He wanted to explain why she should leave. Instead he said, “Have you taken a sauna before?”

  “Of course. I’ve lived up here my whole live.”

  Jim heard the sounds of her removing her clothes. In a panic, he stripped and stepped inside. Ignoring what was happening behind him, Jim wet the benches, cooling them so you could sit without burning your skin. He filled the dipper for throwing water on the rocks to make steam. He heard the opening of the door and padding of the bare feet as Lori entered. There was a faint gasp as the intense heat struck her bare skin.

  Jim kept his back turned until he was sure she was seated. He tossed the water on the rocks. The needles of hot steam struck him as he wet two wash clothes and filled the dipper again. The steam blurred his vision as he turned to give Lori one of the cloths. Jim climbed to the top bench, draped the wet cloth over his face and let the heat penetrate his body. He kept his face covered with the cloth until he felt a cooling of the room. He used the wet cloth to grasp the hot handle of the dipper and threw some water onto the rocks. Again the needles of heat descended. Time slowed. Jim finally relaxed.

  He looked at Lori.

  Something had happened. Most women that he had seen when they had gotten wet and sweaty, looked poorer. Lank hair draped in limp curls hugged the skull. Beads of sweat clung to the face highlighting any imperfection.

  Facial muscles loose from the heat sagging the curves of the face. Lori became beautiful. The delicate structure of her face stood out fully revealed with the mass of hair matted down with heat. The curve of her face was softened.

  The eyes that had been hidden behind the glasses sparkled.

  Jim’s eyes spotted a drop of moisture forming on her forehead. He watched the trickle flow down her nose, drip to her chin, drift down her throat and past the soft curve before her ribs. Instead of flowing between her breasts, the drop chose her left breast. Silently it flowed to her nipple and stopped, a glistening spark of light on the soft red flesh. He looked up and saw her eyes smiling in a multitude of shades and hues. Jim finally knew that nothing else mattered to him but those smiling eyes.

  The door opens. The figure turns on the light. The hands turn over the card.

  A young man stands on a rise. He holds a staff before him. Six staffs are raised against him but there is confidence in his stance.

  An audible sigh escapes the figure. The light turns off.

  ––—

  CHAPTER 23: The Seven of Wands

  Henry enjoyed seeing a pro work, even if he was more than a little scummy. Jacob McKinsie was a pro. Jacob had the reporters avidly hanging to his every word. Henry knew that by the time the reporters filed their stories, he, Vernon, Frank, Al and all the others would be relegated to the status of also worked on the case. Henry was more than a little surprised when Jacob told the reporters that he was the one to shoot Jones.

  Jacob stopped by the office two hours before the scheduled press conference and, for the first time, insisted on a complete briefing of all the information on Jones’s case. Henry had an easy time briefing Jacob, because Vernon at the BCA had all the forensic reports faxed over night to the sheriff’s office. Henry had driven in to work early. He had still not recovered enough from shooting Jones to sleep though the night and had decided to work a longer day in hopes of being tired enough for a full night’s sleep.

  Jacob had absorbed the information at the briefing, only needing a little extra help on the technical details of the autopsies. Jacob, being the consummate politician, then recited the details of the investigation in the first person to the reporters. Henry never understood why the public always thought that the local sheriff was the best cop in the county. Didn’t they realize that they voted for the county sheriff? That made the sheriff a politician, just like the local mayor or state representative. Most sheriffs had at one time been real cops, but usually years ago. Henry watched the admiration on the faces of the reporters as Jacob claimed personal guidance of the investigation. The only discordant note was from the Action News reporter, Debbi. She kept scratching her neck and arms. Henry wondered how they would run the final TV news story with the red welts around her face. It was way too warm a day for a turtleneck sweater and the welts were too large to be covered by make-up.

  Oops! Jacob wanted him to come up to the podium. He probably figured that showing off a subordinate or two would help on his re-election. As Henry stood next to Jacob, he finally realized something was wrong with the situation. Jacob usually only came to the third button on Henry’s shirt and here he stood at least two inches taller than him. Henry glanced behind the podium. There was a box of files under Jacob’s feet. Henry unconsciously shook his head in amazement. That scene turned out to be the lead on the ten o’clock news on two of the local television stations. It came out as the grizzled police veteran bowing his head in admiration of his superior’s leadership.

  Jack Andrews called the hurried meeting in order to try to protect himself and the school board. At the meeting was John Jenkins, the school board chairman, with full authority to sign off on any deal struck during the negotiations. On the other side of the table were Sandra Thomas, Mike Garrison, local teacher’s union rep, Lori Waithe, and James Makinen.

  “Sandra, we need to get this settled. We only have the next few months before school starts in the fall to hire a new superintendent and principal.

  These court cases you have filed will just delay the whole process. How can we hire anyone while the cases are pending? You don’t want the kids to suffer while this drags out for months in court, do you? Here’s wh
at I propose we do.

  First, Mike here can be on the search committee for the new administration.

  James and Lori can get one year’s severance pay. How does that sound?” “Jack, you’ve got to be kidding! I talked to Wayne Johnson before I came in today. You paid off Shermon to the tune of seventy-five thousand dollars. This is the son of the serial killer who killed two of your own students. This is the man who hired the serial killer to work in your school to begin with. And this is the man who with your principal is being investigated by the State for blackmail and embezzlement. Just who the hell do you think you are?

  “This is the second time you tried to sneak something past me. Now both you and the board are up to your pretty little necks in this mess, and it is all your own making. We either make sure this mess will never happen again and you treat my clients fairly, or we leave. Oh, Jack, you might be interested in this. With what I’ve found out so far, I’m inclined to add your name to the suit as a defendant and recommend to the Attorney General that you should be added to the criminal indictment with Shermon and the school board.” Jack sputtered. Why did he keep on underestimating that bitch? She was the union lawyer. Maybe if they got involved in the hiring of the new administration, he could skate something past on the criminal cases. It took three hours, but they worked out that the teachers would screen the applicants for the administration. They would also review the principal’s and superintendent’s job performance every two years. If the teachers rejected the performance of the new administration, the board would then not renew their contracts.

  Lori and James had left the room early in the talks, and Jack had thought he had dodged the worst part of the criminal complaints until he had time to create a new plan. But then Sandra then spoke, “We’ll just stop now for a minute so Lori and James can come back in.” She got out her cell phone and called them.

 

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