Smoke Screen

by Suzanne Ouimet

“We’ll show it to you, but later, if you don’t mind,” Marybeth said gently. “We would rather you didn’t read it just yet.”

  “He’s not my dad. And I’ve told you I didn’t start any fires. That one, or any other,” Sandro stated vehemently, then calming down somewhat, he added, “Well, that’s not entirely true, I guess. I have started campfires. Ben taught my brother, Carmine and me woodcraft. You know, setting up camps in the woods – stuff like that. And obviously I’ve started fires in our fireplace here.”

  “As we’ve said, we are not accusing anyone of anything. We’re just trying to get to the truth. Surely you want to know who is responsible for the fire that resulted in…” Marybeth paused, not wanting to upset him further by mentioning his daughter’s death again.

  “Of course, we want that too, both of us,” Val cut in. “It’s just that Sandro, but me too, thought all that unpleasantness was behind us. It’s pretty hard, you know. You’re opening up old wounds.”

  “We understand. We really do.” Tom replied, not un- sympathetically. “Incidentally, Sandro, everyone we talked to about this has told us they don’t believe you were responsible. I tend to agree.”

  “He couldn’t have been anyway,” Val said. “We, both of us, were in Corvallis, at OSU, studying for exams.”

  “What about that mall fire in 1958, Sandro? You had just left home.”

  “I was at the logging camp where Carmine was living and working. I don’t have anyone to vouch for me right now, but I’m sure I could find a few guys who were there then.”

  “Your aunt and uncle said both you and Carmine were there the night of that particular fire.”

  “Well, yes, we could have been. We spent many weekends there and sometimes, during forest fire season, when the camps were shut down, we’d spend all our time over at their place. We put a new roof on their house during one of those shut downs. To tell you the truth, I don’t know the exact dates and I don’t really know anything about that mall fire. I told Ben I didn’t at the time.”

  “Okay. We’ll leave it at that,” Tom said. “We’d like to ask you a little bit about your brother now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Why do you want to know about Carmine?” Valerie asked.

  “Where is he, for a start?” Marybeth said.

  “We don’t actually know. We don’t hear from him. He moves around,” Sandro told them. By this time, Nikko had jumped up and making himself cuddled on his master’s lap.

  “We heard he might have gone to Vietnam.” Tom said.

  “Yes, he did. He was in the Navy. He was over there for quite a long time. He wrote to both of us during that time.”

  “He wrote to both of you?”

  “Yes,” Val answered. “I was engaged to him before he joined up, you know. But then for some reason, I guess he decided he didn’t want me anymore and I didn’t get any more letters from him. Actually, he stopped writing to both of us at about the same time. We never knew what happened to him. At first we thought he’d been killed. We finally found out he was back in the states. Apparently, he hadn’t even been injured, or at least we don’t think he was.”

  “When Frannie and I got separated,” Sandro explained, “Val and I, well, we’d been close friends for a long time, had gone to college together, so I just naturally turned to her for comfort. Carmine had disappeared. Destiny. I guess we were meant for each other. We decided to get married. We’re soul-mates,” he added quietly, looking at Val fondly

  “So you don’t know where your brother is now?” Marybeth asked again.

  “No, we heard he was down in Indian country. Maybe South Dakota, living on one of the reservations down there. But we don’t know for sure.”

  “When was the last time you heard from him?”

  “We haven’t. Heard from him, I mean,” Sandro said.

  “How did you know he was home then? Back in America?” Tom asked.

  “Every once in awhile, we’d get word through the ‘moccasin telegraph’.” Val smiled.

  “The ‘moccasin telegraph’?” Marybeth puzzled.

  “The Indian grapevine, MB. You know, like smoke signals,” Tom told her with a grin. “It’s a kind of network. Information travels to the people who need to know. Most of the time it works, but not always.”

  Sandro and Val made no comment.

  “You don’t live that far from Lisa, Sandro. Do you never see her?”

  “No, we don’t. On purpose. We decided back when we left home, Carmine and I, to sever all ties.”

  “That’s such a shame!” Marybeth exclaimed. “Lisa told us she has very fond memories of you two when you lived with them.”

  “It is a shame,” Val agreed. “I’ve often told Sandro we should contact her. She and her children live just down the river. It’s a bit stupid, really.”

  “I’m amazed you haven’t run into her in town.”

  “We always try to avoid her if we can. We work in Black Rock and don’t go into Leffler that often. She might not recognize either of us anyway. We’ve both changed. Especially Sandro, with his beard and moustache,” Val told them, smiling gently at her husband.

  “You heard about her twins disappearing a year or so ago?” Tom asked.

  “Yes. You found them, didn’t you? Lisa must have been frantic. I really tried to get Sandro to contact her during that time, but he wasn’t ready.” Val said, looking sadly at her husband.

  “I’ve got enough on my plate,” Sandro protested, trying to put an end to the subject. He seemed to be having some difficulty breathing.

  “Calm down Sandro,” Val said, handing him his inhaler.

  “Do you still get asthma attacks?” Tom asked.

  “Yes. And I don’t need this on top of everything else,” he answered, spraying medication into his throat.

  Opening her bag, Marybeth removed Ben’s accusatory note. Handing it to Sandro, she said, “This is just a copy. We have the original in safekeeping. Now, we’re not sure why or to whom Ben wrote this, if indeed he wrote it to anyone. Lisa found it among some of his papers. There are letters from your mother, your birth certificates, some pictures, that sort of thing. Lisa is keeping those in case you want them someday.”

  Sandro unfolded the paper and began to read. “This is just bullshit! Just what I’d expect from that…” Looking at Tom, he asked, “You said there was another?”

  Suddenly he stood up, dumping the dog off his lap and walked out of the room, Nikko padding along behind him. Shortly after, they heard him weeping from another part of the house.

  “Would you please excuse me?” Val asked. “This has upset him. I should go see if I can help.”

  “You see?” Marybeth said quietly to Tom, wiping tears from her eyes, “Remember how it made me cry? It’s a very disturbing document.”

  “We should go, MB. We can talk to them again later, if we have any more questions.”

  They could hear Val quietly comforting Sandro. They clearly heard his anguished, grief-stricken cry, “Why would he do this, Val? Why would he accuse me of setting fires, for God’s sake?

  “He never really loved me, Val. Why? Why didn’t he? Why?”

  “He did, Sandro. He did. I know he did.”

  Marybeth whispered, as she and Tom left the house, shutting the door quietly behind them, “I’d like to learn more about this family, wouldn’t you?”

  “They don’t seem that fond of Ben, any of them,” Tom answered, slightly unsettled. He’d always thought of Ben as the consummate hero.

  Chapter 12

  Taling History

  The sun was sinking, heading for western horizon, shining over the falls, as they left Val and Allesandro’s home.

  “Pretty place.” Marybeth stood looking out over the river. “Last time we were here was when we met April Arneson.”

  “Yeah, wasn’t she something? Things have certainly changed for her. ”

  Driving away from the little village, Tom said, “Well, so much for the veracity of Agnes and Nick’s statemen
ts. Do you think they were lying about everything?”

  “Perhaps they were only protecting the boys. Maybe they’ve known all along where they were.”

  “So, should we believe anything this family says about Sonny or Carmine? Or Ben? Should we assume, as police, they’d automatically lie to us?” Tom looked perplexed.

  Lights coming on in buildings along the highway signaled night’s rapid approach. Early stars and a crescent moon appeared in the darkening sky. They had been quiet for several minutes, each thinking their own thoughts, when Marybeth spoke. “Would you lie to protect your family, Tom? In fact, how far would you go to defend them? Could you kill?”

  “Strange question… I think, like most people, I’d go to almost any length to look after the ones I love. Pretty sure I would, anyway. Lie? Sure. Killing, though? I don’t know…”

  “How far would you go to ensure your loved ones’ happiness, do you think?” Marybeth asked.

  “I would draw the line, I think, at actually harming someone,” he answered.

  “What if somebody was making your daughter unhappy? Not physically hurting her, just making her unhappy.”

  “Well, I’d hope I could somehow influence that person to change their ways. Oh, I don’t know… Until I’m presented with the circumstance, I don’t really know how I’d react. Where’s this coming from, anyway?”

  “Just wondered.”

  “Change of subject, MB. What do you know about what was going on in 1968?” Tom asked. “Other than the apartment fire?”

  “Hmm... I’ll have to think about that,” she answered. “Maybe you should refresh my memory. I was born in ’69.”

  “That long ago?” Tom joked. Marybeth poked him in the arm.

  “Well, for one thing, it was the year Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated.”

  “Right. Now I remember. Robert Kennedy, too. In California.”

  “There was a lot of upheaval back then. Riots in Chicago at the Democratic National Convention, for instance.”

  “Didn’t that jerk, Nixon, win the election in ’68?”

  “Yes, and he won by less than 50 percent. But he did take 32 states. Obviously, MB, you’re a Democrat.”

  “Well, yes, I lean that way. I’m really apolitical though; I try to base my votes on issues, not parties.”

  “Herbert Humphrey was from my state, Minnesota. He came second in the ’68 election. George Wallace, the governor of Alabama came third.”

  “Wasn’t there an attempt to assassinate him? George Wallace, I mean?”

  “Governor Wallace was shot five times back in 1972. It wasn’t a political thing, just some nut wanting fame and fortune, but Wallace ended up in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Some would say ‘just desserts.’ He was a racist bastard. Apparently, in the end he finally changed his ways, became a ‘born-again Christian’ and apologized for being a racist. Rather convenient, wouldn’t you say? All’s forgiven at the Pearly Gates?”

  “I wonder if all that turmoil back then had anything to do with any of our fires?”

  “I’ve wondered that, too. Aunt Agnes mentioned Ben was very upset when Kennedy was killed, so possibly lots of people were, our arsonist amongst them.”

  “It’s something we should maybe consider. What was your ‘take’ on Sonny? I mean Sandro?” Marybeth asked.

  “He does seem awfully sensitive, especially on the subject of his dad. I’m curious about them – him and Carmine. There’s something fascinating about that family.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll get the chance to learn much more. It’s private family business, mostly not relevant to our investigation anyway. And so far, they don’t seem to want to tell us the truth.”

  “Marilyn was pretty forthcoming… They’re the epitome of ‘a dysfunctional family’, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “For sure! Now: what the heck does ep-it-om-e mean?” Marybeth asked, laughing.

  “I think it means ‘representative of’.”

  “Why not just say they’re dysfunctional and be done with it?”

  Tom laughed. “Just wanted to impress you with my eruditeness,” he responded.

  “Gotcha. What is eruditeness? Never mind… I know what it means and I am impressed.”

  “Good, you should be. Now what and where are we going to eat tonight?”

  “Let’s just find something at my place. Macaroni and cheese, maybe a slice of ham. Are you going to work in the shop later?”

  “I’d like to keep working on your desk. It’s coming along nicely. I’ve got maybe another five or six hours work and it’ll be ready to apply a finish of some kind. What do you want?”

  “Can I do it, Tom? The finishing?”

  “Hey, of course you can. I’ll help if you want. Do you know how to apply a stain properly?”

  “I’ve done it before,” Marybeth said. “But I was thinking maybe paint.”

  “Hey, no! It’s too good a piece for that. You don’t wanna cover up the beautiful oak grain! Something natural, maybe?”

  “Okay, I’ll defer to you, Tom. Paint would be simpler though, wouldn’t it?”

  When they arrived, Tom immediately went to his shop. She’d gotten used to the noise of the saws, planers, sanders and the electric stapler, coming from her former garage. Warming now to the idea he might eventually want to move in with her, she was actually trying to figure out how to broach the subject.

  There had been no repeat of the incident where he’d tried to get her to stay at his apartment. And he hadn’t suggested he stay at her place, either. He always used the excuse the cats needed his company. She was sure it was because she’d refused to stay at his apartment that night and was beginning to think she would have to initiate something to make him want to stay the night with her. As she put a pot of water on the stove for the macaroni, she thought. It’s my own fault. Maybe I should change into something sexy, walk into the shop and surprise him. But she didn’t. It just wasn’t her style.

  Chapter 13

  Picking Paint

  It was Saturday morning and Tom and Marybeth were at the hardware store choosing a stain for her new computer desk, when they bumped into Sandro and Valerie Juarez.

  “Hi, what are you two doing here?”

  “We’re picking colours for our nursery.” Val explained, while Sandro ignored them.

  “A baby! That’s so exciting, Valerie!” Marybeth exclaimed.

  Tom held out his hand to Sandro, “Congratulations!” Sandro nodded slightly, ignoring Tom’s hand.

  Just then, Tom noticed Lisa Kelly approaching with a man in tow, “Here’s Lisa.”

  “You know Lisa Kelly, don’t you?” Marybeth asked Val, noticing Sandro remained unresponsive.

  Valerie, slightly annoyed with her husband’s behaviour, answered, “Yes, of course we know her,”

  Lisa introduced Martin, her fiancé, to whom she explained Marybeth and Tom had been the ones to find her missing twins the previous year.

  Suddenly, Sandro quietly excused himself, turned and walked away.

  Flabbergasted, Lisa exclaimed, “He didn’t recognize me!”

  “Oh, yes he did,” Val replied, “but he’s … Never mind. I’ll go. I’ll try to get him to come back.”

  “I can’t believe he didn’t want to speak to me,” Lisa said, watching her go. “I know it’s been a long time, but still…”

  “You’re getting married?” Marybeth asked her, hoping to restore the previously cheerful atmosphere.

  Tom jabbed her in the ribs with his elbow, hoping she wouldn’t ask Lisa about Terry in front of her fiancé.

  “You thought Terry and I were together, didn’t you?” Lisa asked Marybeth sotto- voice. When Marybeth admitted she had, Lisa told her, “Hard-ly. He was just a friend. He helped me out, that’s all. Taxied me around in his boat, before I got my car. Did you know he’s engaged to April Arneson?”

  “When did that happen?”

  “He made himself scarce around my place back when April inherited
all that money. Good thing too, because I met Martin around about then. One thing led to another and now here I am, engaged to marry a doctor! I guess it was destiny,” she added, laughing. “You just never know, do you?”

  April Arneson had been left destitute when her husband, Sven was killed in a logging accident. Unknown to April, Arne Arneson, executor of his brother’s estate, had stolen his insurance. Tom and Marybeth discovered, during their investigation into the missing children case, that Arne was involved in fraud, smuggling and dealing in stolen property. He had flown out of the country and still had not been found, despite an international search. Luckily for Lisa, his sister-in-law, he had given back almost everything he’d stolen before he disappeared, leaving her with a considerable estate. Obviously the real estate agent, Terry Sloane, ever ambitious, had decided she was a better bet financially than Lisa.

  Later, Marybeth told Tom, “Lisa denied she and Terry had ever been lovers. She told me he’s engaged to marry April Arneson now. She said he split right after April found out about her inheritance.”

  “Nice – for Terry,” Tom said sarcastically.

  “Martin seems pleasant, though, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do. And I’m happy for Lisa,” Tom agreed, smiling. “but not for April. Hope she doesn’t end up regretting it.”

  “I never really liked Terry Sloane. But, I believe he and Lisa really were a couple, back when the twins went missing.”

  “Woman’s intuition, hon?” Tom asked, grinning hugely.

  “You could say that. And another thing, I’ll bet she was hurt when Terry dumped her despite never admitting it...”

  “Maybe just as well. She may never have gone out with Martin if Terry was still around.” Tom was thinking now of Greg and how his chances with Marybeth might have been nil if Greg had still been in the picture.

  “I wonder if Val will be able to reunite Sandro and Lisa?” Marybeth asked a few minutes later. “I think she’d like to, especially now she’s expecting a baby. It’s sad they can’t all be together, the whole family, don’t you think?”

  “The younger boys wouldn’t remember the older ones, anyway, MB,” Tom reminded her. “They were just tiny babies when Cal and Sonny left.”