by Lyn Cote
He sucked in another swallow of the hot murky brew. Picking up his tattered copy of Cram's latest Steadfast Times, he glanced over the letter to the editor again. The old biddy had unloaded both barrels at the sheriff again and she'd been loaded for bear! He tossed the paper back down.
Did the sheriff suspect old Veda of being the Snowmobile Burglar? No doubt Elroy Dietz had made the sheriff's list and even good old Dutch Rieker. What did Durand plan to do next?
His empty stomach burned. No one in the county knew what was behind the burglaries except him. And he wouldn't end it until he'd gotten exactly what he wanted—and that wasn't just a few lousy bucks.
Chapter Thirteen
Feeling a strange mix of emotions, Wendy walked between Sage and Grandfather through the small utilitarian airport, a county away from Steadfast. They'd come to see Sage off on the first leg of her journey to Florida. Grandfather had bought Sage a ticket out of the small airport to Minneapolis, where she'd catch her flight south. Wendy felt tears just waiting to fall. Hurt over being left behind wouldn't leave her in peace and the sadness of being parted from her sister was worse yet.
The sound of many different footsteps on the polished linoleum reminded Wendy that the three of them were not alone. Trav sauntered beside Sage, holding her hand. Behind them came the startling threesome of Elroy Dietz, Sheriff Durand, and Uncle Dutch. The reason for the strange trio accompanying them was purely circumstantial.
Uncle Dutch had been expected to come to see his niece off. Elroy wanted to borrow Trav's truck, so right after Sage took off, he was going to drop Trav at his job on the way back to town and take the truck. Finally, Rodd had called and insisted on driving Wendy and Harlan because the roads were slick again. Wendy had wanted to refuse, but she'd seen that her grandfather had wanted her to accept. She'd wanted it too—though she would never have asked him. The roads had been snow packed. They'd be safer in Rodd's Jeep than in Wendy's Blazer. And Wendy admitted to herself that she drew unexpected strength from Rodd's presence.
The intimate glances that passed between Sage and Trav in some mysterious way heightened Wendy's consciousness of Rodd just a foot behind her. An invisible force seemed to be urging her to turn around and throw herself into Rodd's arms, where she would feel safe and strengthened. She tried to block the feeling, but it persisted.
"I can't believe I'll be in Florida tonight." Sage, wearing a new dark gold slacks-and-jacket outfit, grinned and squeezed Trav's hand.
Trav smiled back "Just don't get sunburned."
Sage chuckled. "I never burn "
"But you'll be out so much," Wendy interrupted. "I just don't want you—"
"You just want me to have the perfect vacation.'' Sage beamed at her.
Sage's excitement proved contagious. In spite of being a mismatched group, Wendy noticed that they were all smiling when they reached the exit where the turboprop commuter plane was preparing to take off. Wendy welcomed the lift of mood. But her gaze wandered to Rodd despite her wish to appear unaffected by him. Lord, she prayed silently, bless Sage and Mom this Christmas.
"Well, Sage," Grandfather said as he opened his eyes, "give your mother our love."
"I will, Gramps." Sage hugged him. "Remember to put the presents I left under your tree. I'll miss you so."
"We'll miss you too." Harlan stepped back.
Wendy blinked away tears. When Rodd rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, her emotions scattered like dry snow before wind.
Uncle Dutch stepped forward. He pulled a smudged envelope from his pocket and handed it to Sage. "You remind that Jim that he'd better be takin' good care of my sister. Here's some cash. Buy your mom something from me and put it under the tree and get yourself something. You know I'm no good at gift wrappin'."
Wendy choked back a sob, a sudden flash of memory recalling a scene from a long-ago Christmas. Still too little for kindergarten, she'd awakened in the middle of Christmas night. From the doorway of her bedroom in the trailer, she'd watched Uncle Dutch arranging a miniature tea set for her under a scraggly Christmas tree. That night she'd discovered that her uncle was her Santa Claus.
"Thanks, Uncle Dutch." Sage stuffed the envelope in her pocket and gave him a big hug. In spite of the cast on his wrist, he lifted her off the floor and swung her as he always used to do with both Wendy and Sage when they were little. Sage giggled with delight.
Wiping tears from her gloved hand, Wendy smiled too. Why didn't their uncle ever let his good side show away from family?
He set Sage down and stepped back. "Merry Christmas!"
Clearing his throat, Rodd stepped forward and offered his hand. "Hope you have a safe trip, Sage."
Craving more of Rodd's comforting touch herself, Wendy balled her hands into tight fists at her side.
Sage shook his hand. "Thanks, Sheriff. You watch out for Wendy while I'm away."
Rodd nodded. "You can count on it."
Her sister's request made Wendy turn a fiery red. Though Rodd made no sign of it, she hoped he didn't take Sage's request as a slur on his ability to protect her. She knew that the attack on her had filled him with helpless anger at the thief—but most of all, at himself.
Sage gave a little wave to the scruffy man hanging back, just behind the sheriff. "Bye, Elroy. Merry Christmas."
Elroy nodded, appearing subdued by the presence of the law, his longtime enemy, and Harlan, an elder of the church. Wendy never felt comfortable around Elroy. She had a feeling he was a quieter, sneakier version of Veda.
Sage touched Wendy's arm. "Walk me outside."
Wendy had expected Sage to ask Trav to walk with her to the plane. She glanced up into her sister's eyes and read the silent plea there. "Okay."
Sage kissed Trav and whispered something into his ear. He hugged her and kissed her again. Then with one final wave, Sage walked outside. Wendy went with her. When they reached the plane, Sage paused. "I know your feelings are hurt...."
"No, I—"
"Don't." Sage's determined tone stopped her. "I'm sorry Mom could only afford one ticket—"
Again, Wendy tried to interrupt.
Taking both Wendy's gloved hands, Sage stopped her "If there had been any possibility you could have gotten away, I would have paid your fare."
"Sage, your savings are for college." Wendy felt guilty for feeling left out.
Sage put her arms around Wendy's shoulders and with a sigh drew her close. "You're more important to me than college." Sage hugged her. "I'll miss you, Sis. We've never been apart for Christmas, and I wouldn't go if Mom didn't need me."
"I know." Wendy's throat threatened to close up on her.
"I love you, Wendy."
"I love you too." Wendy tightened their embrace. "You were the best gift Mom ever gave me."
Sage straightened up. "You've always been there for me, and now that I'm nearly an adult I'm going to be there for you."
Sage's pledge touched Wendy's heart. She brushed away more tears. "Give my love to Mom."
"I will. Here, I won't be needing this." Grinning, Sage shrugged out of her winter jacket, gave it to Wendy, and turned to go. "Be kind to the sheriff. He's having a rough time and something in his life should be going right."
Feeling healed and refreshed, Wendy called a last farewell, and then she walked back inside. What did her sister's cryptic comment about the sheriff mean? Was Wendy's attraction to Rodd that obvious?
Back inside, Wendy and the small group watched the plane taxi away and take off. Suddenly she was glad Sage was the one flying away. She felt relieved she was staying home for Christmas. The early winter had been disturbed by the burglaries and made her want to cling to the familiar. Wendy imagined all the cheerful cleaning, shopping, wrapping, and baking her mother had no doubt been doing the last two weeks. She grinned to herself. It was wonderful Mom would have Sage with her. And though she knew she shouldn't, she drew strength from the sheriff's presence.
The excitement past, Rodd noticed everyone's mood had sobered.
The six of them turned and paraded back through the tiny airport. They walked more slowly and didn't speak.
Rodd was glad he'd insisted on driving Harlan and Wendy. She had looked crushed about saying good-bye to Sage. But being Wendy, she was trying to smile for her grandfather's sake. She possessed such a sweet spirit. The memory of seeing her lying facedown at the Kainzes' would haunt him forever.
Rodd had again been contemplating the possibility of either Elroy or Dutch being the Weasel. Since the VFW debacle, Rodd had gone over the burglary file repeatedly. And again, no incriminating physical evidence had been found at Garvey's Garage. The simple incendiary devices used to ignite an auto garage amply supplied with oily rags and other flammable substances had been the simplest possible—made with items that could be purchased at any discount or hardware store. He now had a collection of evidence from the explosions, but nothing that pointed a clear finger at anyone. Though he did doubt Veda would know enough to plan and craft the explosives, Veda, Dutch, and Elroy still remained his most likely suspects.
Today at the airport, the tension between Dutch and Elroy had been palpable. But the feud between the two men was widely known and long-standing. And it didn't seem to have anything to do with the burglaries. People tended to think that, of the two enemies, Rieker had the brains. But Elroy had what Rodd, as a cop, recognized as that natural furtive cunning that some criminals had. It was almost like a natural talent for anything twisted or illegal.
When was the Weasel going to make a mistake or go too far? Rodd was disgusted that events had reduced him to that thin hope. After the showdown with Cram, he'd contemplated helping the county find a replacement; then he'd resign and go back to Milwaukee. But he couldn't leave this crime unsolved, and what officer in his right mind would take up a mare's nest like this?
Outside, the farewell party headed to their parked vehicles. With a wave, Elroy and Trav set off in Trav's truck. Rodd wondered what Elroy needed the truck for. Did he have a Christmas kegger in mind? How had Trav, by all accounts a good kid, popped up in a family like the Dietzes'?
Dutch turned to go toward his car.
With Wendy beside him, Harlan lifted his hand. "Wait, Dutch. I wanted to invite you to join Wendy and me for Christmas dinner."
"Hey, that's great, Harlan. But I've got plans." Dutch grinned.
Harlan nodded as though this response hadn't surprised him. "The invitation will stay open. If your plans change, just show up when you can."
Wendy leaned against her grandfather affectionately. "Yes, Uncle Dutch, please try to come."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." Dutch shook Harlan's hand, then turned away.
Rodd admired Harlan. Harlan and Uncle George had been two of a kind. Harlan never let anything get in his way of reaching out to others. Today he looked broken up over Sage's leaving. Rodd wished he could do something for him.
Rodd walked beside Wendy as they headed for his Jeep. He hadn't detected any friction between the sisters. Perhaps Wendy knew that she was needed here—Harlan needed her. But Rodd resented anything that made matters hard for her. It was obvious to him she was holding back her emotions. Touching her shoulder inside the airport had been the least he thought he could show as merely friendly regard. But he longed to put his arms around her, to let her know of his concern.
"Hey! Wait a minute, Sheriff!" Dutch called. "This battery of mine has been giving me trouble. Wait and see if I can get it started, okay? I might need a jump."
"Sure." Rodd, along with Wendy and Harlan, waited while Dutch climbed into his beat-up Camaro. The battery cranked but didn't catch.
After a few minutes of grinding, Dutch got out. "I've got jumper cables in my trunk."
"I'll drive over next to you," Rodd called over his shoulder. Helping Wendy into the Jeep while Harlan climbed in back, Rodd gave her a reassuring smile and was rewarded with one in return. He got in and drove over to Dutch.
Rodd got out to help Dutch hook up his battery cables to the Jeep. Slipping outside, Wendy hovered nearby. She looked tired. Had she been working too much? He wished he could stop her from shouldering too much responsibility. So many people depended on her. "Wendy, why don't you get back in the Jeep?" Rodd invited gently. "We weren't inside very long, so it's still warm. This won't take long."
She looked at both of them. He tried to read her expression. What was she concerned about now?
"I guess you don't need another pair of hands." After touching Dutch's shoulder affectionately, she walked to the passenger side and got in.
Dutch grinned at him. "Think she was afraid I'd try to give you a hard time?"
Rodd shrugged. Leaning under the hood, he looked at the date on the oil-smeared and corroded battery. "You should start shopping for a new battery."
"Oh, this one's got a few more miles on it. Back in the county, I just leave the motor running for short stops. But here someone might have driven off with it."
Rodd doubted any car thief would be interested in a twenty-five-year-old rusted-out Camaro, but he didn't say anything.
"So, Sheriff, are you seeing my niece?"
The unexpected question threw Rodd. "We aren't dating."
"Well, seems to me that whenever I see Wendy you're somewhere in the picture."
Rodd gave him a noncommittal reply. "Our jobs bring us together—"
Dutch cut in, "I just want you to know, no one hits on my nieces. I took Trav aside and let him know what would happen to him if he hurt Sage. You treat Wendy with respect or else. I don't care if you are the law."
Rodd gazed at Dutch, reading his intent stare. "Wendy is a fine woman. She has nothing to fear from me."
"Okay, I'll take your word." Dutch shook his head slowly. "You notice that skunk Dietz giving me the eye?"
Rodd shrugged, wondering where this was leading.
"He thinks he's gotten something over on me since he started seeing Carlene, my fiancée."
Rodd nodded.
"Carlene and me been informally engaged for nearly three years, and as soon as this wrist is back in condition, I'm going to teach little Elroy a lesson."
Rodd couldn't figure out why Rieker was telling him this. Just male ego?
"Okay, Sheriff, get in and start her up!" Dutch wiped his hands on a grimy rag from his pocket.
Rodd slid behind the wheel of his Jeep and turned on the ignition, starting his vehicle. Dutch did the same. His motor fired and chugged to a start.
Dutch hopped out of his car, disconnected the cables, and waved Rodd away. "Thanks, Sheriff! See you, Harlan, and see you, Wendy girl!"
As Rodd adjusted the defroster vents, the thought occurred to him that Dutch could have used the money he'd just given to Sage for Christmas presents for a car battery instead. Veda McCracken attended church every week but was capable of stealing money from a local fund-raiser. Dutch Rieker drank too much, brawled, and had trouble holding down a job, but he gave generously to his family.
Experience had taught him that human nature never fit into neat little slots of good people/bad people. But Rodd didn't deem Dutch as irredeemable—though some church members might quibble with him, especially Veda McCracken. Why did Veda bother taking up a pew each Sunday morning when she seemed intent on hating everyone in the congregation? in the county? Was it just her way of keeping tabs on what was going on so she could use it for her own bent purposes?
"Thanks for driving us here, Rodd." Harlan hesitated. "Did you hear about Elroy's good luck?"
Rodd picked up the reluctance in the older man's voice. "Good luck?"
"Yes, seems his truck was in Garvey's Garage when it exploded."
"That's good news?"
"It is since he'd just upped his auto insurance policy to include replacement value."
At twilight the wind died down, but Wendy still shivered in the church parking lot. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and the congregation had gathered for caroling. She tried to give Rodd her usual smile. Nothing new about the case had turned up in the week
since the explosions. But their showdown with Cram at the Foodliner had only been a prelude to more hate from Veda. She'd begun accosting people on Main Street, trying to get them to sign a petition to remove Rodd from office. Plus she had written another letter to the editor—a damaging one because it had recounted ...Wendy shook her head, trying to get rid of the empathetic pain she'd felt for Rodd when she'd read Veda's hate-filled expose of something from Rodd's past something he no doubt didn't want reopened.
