“Would you use the term ‘lit up the target’ to describe what he did?” Deidre asked, her voice barely a whisper. Jeremiah’s answer was a slight nod of his head. “What would happen then?” Deidre inquired, then sat still.
Jeremiah shook his head. “Aaron told me the missiles would lock onto his laser beam and follow it to the target. It would destroy everything and everybody.” The burly man’s face remained expressionless. Deidre broke the silence with another question, all the while worrying that Jeremiah would bolt. “Jeremiah, did you have to report to command the extent of the damage done by the bomb?” The instant the words came out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a terrible slip. Jeremiah flared.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not Aaron Schoeneger. He’s dead. I saw him die. You asked if I had to report back. I wasn’t there. It was Aaron, and he’s gone. Please, believe me.” Deidre looked in Jeremiah’s pleading eyes. She tried to smooth over her slip of tongue.
“I’m sorry. Of course I believe you. Did Aaron have to report the damage done by the bombs to command?” Jeremiah nodded as he tried to control his emotions. His mouth moved as though he was trying to say something, but no words came out.
With great effort, he spoke. “One day he lit up a building he was sure was housing a group of Republic Guard. The missile hit it dead on, and he reported a direct hit, then went to inspect the damage while the other guys of his recon team covered him.” Jeremiah stopped and swallowed hard. He began to sob. Deidre could hardly understand him when he said, “The building was filled with women and children. Aaron found them, all dead, all blown to pieces, and he found a little girl, still clutching her doll.” Jeremiah broke down and wept openly, his body rocking back and forth. Deidre put an arm around the big man’s shoulders and laid her other hand on his arm. They sat that way for many minutes.
“That must have been difficult for Aaron. How did he handle his grief?” Jeremiah looked at her through red-rimmed eyes.
“He drank—more than he ever had. He tried to lose himself in a bottle, but it didn’t work.” Deidre tried to look him in the eye, but had to look away, disturbed by the pain she was causing.
“But, Jeremiah, I’ve read Aaron’s military record. He saved the lives of his companions. He acted honorably in all ways. Surely, he must have known that in war accidents happen, terrible accidents.” She tried to console him.
Jeremiah shook his head. “No, nothing could ever take away the image of that little girl lying in the rubble of the building, bleeding, dead, still holding her dolly to her chest. The only way for him to forget was to die.”
Deidre looked at him. “In death, do you think he forgot?”
She hardly got the words out when Jeremiah answered. “No!”
“Jeremiah, is that why you preach the way you do? Is that why you fear for others’ salvation, to spare them from what Aaron carried with him to his grave?”
He nodded. “I don’t want anybody to burn in hell the way Aaron is burning.” Again, they sat for several minutes. Deidre broke the silence.
“You know, Jeremiah, for a time I suspected that you were responsible for some of the bad things that were happening in Two Harbors, but I was wrong. I don’t think you would ever intentionally harm anyone. You’re a good man, Jeremiah Rude. Thank you for allowing me to ask so many questions about Aaron and for answering them. I won’t bother you anymore, but I want you to promise me that if you ever want my help, that you’ll call me. Do you still have my card?” Jeremiah nodded.
“Thank you, Sheriff. I’ve never told anyone about Aaron. Thank you for listening and for not believing he was an evil person. I hope God blesses you.”
Deidre stood up, and Jeremiah slowly got to his feet. Side by side, they walked back to where her car was parked. Just before she got in, she saw Reverend Isaiah standing in the doorway of one of the buildings. He had his hands on his hips, and his eyes were filled with hate. On the way back to town, she wondered what could be done for Aaron Schoeneger, or Jeremiah Rude, as he wished to be called.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
During supper that evening, Megan and Maren were wound up as only twelve-year-old girls can get. Their conversation bubbled, one finishing the other’s sentence.
“And today at soccer practice the coach said that if everyone worked as hard as Maren and me—”
Maren butted in, “she said we’d win every game.”
“Yeah, and then we had a water break, and—” Again, Megan didn’t have the opportunity to finish.
“And Melissa said we were the coach’s pets,” Maren finished the story.
“That’s not fair, Maren. You never let me tell the story, because you always finish it.” Megan pouted. Deidre finished the debate.
“You know, Maren, she’s right. The next time your sister wants to tell us something, let her finish. Okay? And Megan, it won’t help to pout. You’ll get your chance. Now, what else did you want to tell”
“Nothing,” Megan sulked. She picked up her fork and ate in silence, while Ben and Deidre exchanged glances. Ben asked Maren to pass the potato salad. She did without saying a word. Finally, Ben tried to break the ice.
“What will you girls do tomorrow? There won’t be practice.”
They both shrugged.
“I’ve got a suggestion,” he tried again. “What if you take a picnic back to our special place on the river? I think it needs some looking after, maybe take the riding mower and trim along the trail and then mow the site. What I’d really like you to do is gather up any loose tree limbs you see lying around and drag them to the wood pile. Just spruce the place up. Mom and I will make a lunch for you. Maybe you can even go wading. I know the water’s not deep enough to swim in, but you could lay in the water. Might feel good. What do you say?”
Megan mumbled under her breath, “It’d be okay if she didn’t have to come with.”
By that time the family was done eating and the girls knew it was their job to put away leftovers and wash the dirty dishes. Ben and Deidre decided to take a walk up the road, and while they did they discussed strategy for dealing with their competitive daughters. When they returned and were still in the yard, they could hear shrieks from inside, and both of them made a dash for the door. Before they burst in to break up whatever was going on, they realized they were hearing shrieks of laughter.
They entered the house and saw the sight of Megan with soap suds covering her chin like a beard and trying to imitate Reverend Isaiah. She had Maren in stitches. Deidre had to admit she had the old man’s mannerisms down pat, and she knew all the right words to say. They all had a good laugh over it, and the girls wiped up the water they had splashed on the floor.
That night before they went to sleep, Deidre knocked on her daughters’ bedroom door. “Vous pouvez entrer,” Maren called out, and both girls started laughing hysterically. Deidre opened the door and tousled each of them.
“Oh, I can, can I? I suppose I should be grateful.” They giggled together for a minute, but Deidre had a serious question for them.
“How do you girls know so much about Reverend Isaiah? Has he ever talked to you?”
Both girls saw she was serious about this and stopped joking. “No, not directly to us,” Maren said, “But we see him on the street corner sometimes. Is what he says true, Mom? It just seems that he’s always angry about something. Pastor Ike tells us God is a loving God, but Reverend Isaiah is always saying God is mad at us. What do you think?”
“Tell you what, I don’t believe what the reverend says, and I like Pastor Ike’s God a lot better. I look at you two, and I know God must love me very much to have brought me into this family.” She kissed each girl on the top of the head. “Good night, you two. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
She and Ben had their usual quiet time after the girls we
re in bed, and Deidre told him about Jeremiah. “I know that he’s Aaron Schoeneger, but he keeps saying that man is dead. I’m afraid he wishes he were, but it’s as though he wants to do something to make up for a horrible mistake. I’d give anything to help him. He’s really hurting.”
The next morning was dreary. A typical Two Harbors fog settled in, covering the sky many miles inland, and a perpetual drizzle saturated the air. The girls are going to go nuts if they’re cooped up in the house all day, Deidre mused. I’m not sure I want to come home to that tonight.
She was at the stove scrambling eggs when the rest of the family trooped into the kitchen and plunked down on their chairs. None of them looked quite awake yet.
“Hey, girls,” she said as she dished up the eggs for them, “I know it’d be tough staying home alone all day. How about coming into town with me today? I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
Megan looked up at her, sleep still fogging her eyes. “Oh, sure, Mom. We could shop till we drop, hit all of the stores, both of them.” Maren let out a giggle, but Megan found nothing funny in what she had said. “There’s nothing going on in this town, nothing exciting, anyway. What can we do there all day?”
Deidre had to admit that the choices were limited. With the fog and the cold, they couldn’t enjoy being outside, and she agreed, shopping in a town of three thousand was pretty limited.
“Come on, kids. Let’s get going. We’ll think of something for you to do while we’re in the car.” The four of them left together. She gave Ben a kiss at the door and wished him a good day. He mumbled something back about trying. The girls grumbled as they buckled their seat belts. Maren had called dibs on riding shotgun, and Megan was sullen in the back seat. This is going to be a fun day, Deidre thought. On the way to town, she threw out several suggestions, all of them meeting rejection. By the time they reached the Law Enforcement Center, nothing had been decided.
“Here’s a few bucks. Why don’t you kids have a snack at Louise’s Café? Call friends and get together with them to play video games. You can always go to the library and read, or what about going to the depot and reading up on the history of Two Harbors?” The girls looked at her as though she were from another universe. “Anyway, let’s meet at the Vanilla Bean Café for lunch together. Okay? See you at noon. You’ve got your cell phones, don’t you? Call if you need me.” She left the twins standing in the parking lot, hoping they’d find something creative to do, then climbed the stairs to her office.
Deidre had just settled behind her desk and was ready to begin her workday when she heard a man’s voice in the outer office. “Is the sheriff in yet? I want to talk to her.” She heard her assistant begin to ask if he had an appointment but was cut off. “No, I ain’t got no appointment. I just want to talk to her.” Shirley started to respond, but Deidre was at her door, hoping to ward off a conflict.
“Sheriff, I want to talk to you,” Jimmy O’Brian said as he brushed past Shirley’s desk. She began to stand to block his way, although she would have had little success with his bulk.
“That’s all right,” Deidre calmly stated. “I know Jimmy.” Turning to him, she said, “Why don’t you come into my office where we can talk.” She shut the door behind them, and offered him a chair. As Jimmy lowered his frame onto it, the wood creaked in complaint. “Now, what is it you want to talk to me about?”
Jimmy scuffed at the floor with his boot, and Deidre thought he wasn’t going to say anything. Then she saw that his chin was quivering, and his eyes were strangely watery. Finally, he found his voice. “Sheriff Johnson, I never thanked you for all you did for me at the trial. I thought I was a goner for sure, but then you found those things in the grass. If it weren’t for you, I’d be serving a life sentence.” Deidre began to object, but he raised a meaty paw. “No, let me finish what I came to say. I’ve been out of treatment for almost three weeks now, and it’s bothered me every day that I didn’t even say thanks. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. The more I dried out, the more I realized I was killing myself with the booze and the weed. So, thanks.”
Deidre could see how uncomfortable Jimmy was, and she tried to steady him. “What’s going to happen in your life now?” She looked at the relief in his eyes to think she cared.
“My bosses out at the steel fab shop have been great. Said I was the best welder they had and wanted me back as soon as I finished treatment. I’m lined up with an AA sponsor, a great guy whose been through the mill himself. So, I guess the rest is up to me.” Deidre wanted to know about the gang he belonged to. “That’s the tough part. They’re not going to quit drinking, and they don’t want me around to remind them they could probably use treatment, too. I’ve decided I can’t go be around those guys no more. I miss ’em, though. Sure as hell miss ’em.”
Deidre could sense the struggle going on in his mind. “Jimmy, I wish you nothing but the best. You’ll make new friends. Might take awhile, but it’ll happen.” She stood, indicating the talk was coming to an end. “I’ve got a lot to do today, but thank you for stopping in to see me. It means a lot. Take care of yourself.” Jimmy got to his feet, a little clumsily, and shook Deidre’s hand. It disappeared in Jimmy’s grasp. He tried to say something but ended up clearing his throat, let go of her hand and turned his back to leave. Deidre wondered if his shoulders were going to pass through the doorway. As she sat down, she couldn’t quite identify what she was feeling, but she had only a moment to contemplate Jimmy’s visit before her phone rang.
There was a long silence after she said, “Hello.” She could hear someone on the other end of the line breathing heavily, and for a moment, she thought she was the victim of a crank call. The other party cleared his throat as though he were struggling to say the first word.
“Is this Sheriff Johnson?”
“This is she,” Deidre replied.
“Sheriff, this is Jeremiah, Jeremiah Rude.”
Deidre was rather taken aback. She hadn’t really expected he would call her. “Yes, Jeremiah.” Her answer was a little too quick, she thought, and she hoped her eagerness wouldn’t scare him off. Trying to sound a little more at ease, she asked, “How can I help you?”
He cleared his throat again. “I’m in town. Can we meet someplace to talk?” Deidre suggested he come to her office. Now it was Jeremiah’s turn to answer quickly. “No!” He caught himself. “No, I’d like to meet outside, if it’s all the same to you. Do you know where the first rock point is from Burlington Bay? There’s a park bench on the rock ledge. I’d like to meet there, if you don’t mind.”
Deidre was quick to tell him that would be fine. They agreed to meet in ten minutes. Deidre looked at her watch and was surprised to see it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. During the short drive to the lake shore, Deidre wondered what he would have to say, and she mulled over more than one scenario in her mind. The thought struck her that the bench Jeremiah had requested to meet at was rather hidden from view, and her thoughts turned to Jeff in the hospital. Could this be another setup? She thought, No, not in the middle of the morning in broad daylight. Or foggy daylight. Nevertheless, stranger things had been known to happen, especially when zealots were involved. Then she thought no again.
The path leading to the point wound its way through a dense stand of evergreens, and Deidre began to feel uneasy as she approached the open space where the bench was placed. She decided not to show herself quite yet and stepped a few yards off the trail, where she remained hidden. A few minutes later she heard someone with heavy footsteps coming down the footpath, and she watched as Jeremiah approached the bench, dropped what appeared to be a heavily loaded packsack, and sat down with a sigh. Deidre waited a few seconds, returned to the path, and nonchalantly walked up to him.
“Good morning, Jeremiah. Great view of the lake, isn’t it?” She sat down on the end of the bench, turned and looked at the obviously ne
rvous man. “You said you wanted to talk. Anything special on your mind?” Jeremiah shrugged, and Deidre sat quietly as the seconds ticked by.
“Do you remember I told you I felt sorry for Aaron Schoengren, sorry for all the things he did, sorry for the little girl he killed? I want to make up for some of the things he did.” Deidre didn’t quite know how to respond to him.
“How will you do that?” she asked. Jeremiah stared at the lake.
“I wanted to join The Sanctuary because I thought God had really spoken to Reverend Isaiah, like he’s spoken to me. I thought the reverend had the answers to finding peace and to saving souls. I don’t want one more person burning in hell, and I’ll stand at the gates of Hades, like a warrior, so no one suffers what Aaron is suffering.” Deidre waited, wondering where this one-sided conversation was going.
Jeremiah continued. “There are a lot of children at The Sanctuary. At first, I thought they were happy doing the gardening and being taught God’s laws. But now I don’t think so. There are some bad things happening up there.”
Jeremiah had Deidre’s full attention. Quietly she asked, “Can you tell me what kind of bad things are happening?”
His shoulders slumped, and he answered. “The men are using the girls, those beautiful little girls.”
“You mean they’re forcing them to work?” She was certain that wasn’t what Jeremiah was hinting at, but she wanted the words to come from his mouth, not hers.
“No,” he answered almost unintelligibly. “They’re forcing them to have sex with them. Even the older men, even the reverend, I suspect. Night before last they had a wedding. The groom was twenty-five years old and the bride was twelve. Sheriff, she was terrified, cried through the whole ceremony and called for her mother as the groom led her away to their wedding bed, as the reverend called it. The next day I saw her working in the gardens. She had a bruise on her face, and she could hardly walk. If Aaron had been there, he would have found the groom and killed him. There is one girl about that age who is pregnant. She’s kept away from the others and out of sight. I only caught a glimpse of her. She was standing in a doorway while the wedding was going on, and I think she was crying.”
Preying in Two Harbors Page 15
