by Lee Pulaski
Newell put up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. I sympathize with your situation, but I flat out will not let you hold the monopoly on persecution in my own home. You are not the only one to be seen as less than human, Sajen, because I’ve been on the business end of a smack down because I’m attracted to men.”
“I meant no disrespect, but I just wanted to point out to you what my odds are of getting out of this without being convicted.”
“Well, you’re not going to be convicted tonight, and I think we should figure out where you’re going to sleep first, and then we can worry about the rest of your life tomorrow.”
Newell escorted Sajen up the stairs, while Zachary stayed behind. Zachary was amazed at how take-charge Newell could be when he put his mind to it. Without batting an eye, Newell had put an instant end to Sajen’s pity party and started a plan to settle the young man down for the night. It was part of what Zachary loved about him.
Now the problem was figuring out who really killed the Reimers. Zachary could tell Sajen was not only incapable of committing murder but also found the thought of being considered a killer petrifying. He wondered if Sasha was still doing the autopsies, or if she had finished and might have some information on how exactly Osgood and Muriel had died.
Zachary grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table and dialed. There was no answer at her office, and a call to her cell went directly to voice mail. It probably meant that Sasha was still hard at work and wasn’t answering her phone. Still, the curiosity was like an annoying itch that he couldn’t scratch. He knew he couldn’t go to Joshua and ask what suspicions the detective had about Sajen.
A few minutes later, Newell came back downstairs. “The guy was exhausted. I set him up in the one spare bedroom, and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow! I mean, I’ve heard the expression, but I’ve never actually seen it in action.”
Zachary sighed. “I feel like I could do the same thing right now. This has just been an incredibly bizarre day, with the media frenzy in front of the White Eagle Art Gallery and now Sajen hiding out in our barn. I’m starting to feel like a magnet for the freakishly bizarre.”
“Oh, so that explains why I’m so attracted to you.” Newell took Zachary in his arms.
“That and the fact that all your exes live in Texas.”
“So what do you make of all this? Do you think the Reimers could really be part of a murder-suicide like Sajen claims?”
“Doubtful. They might have been found that way, but I highly doubt a couple married for more than half a century would end their matrimony with bloodshed without anyone getting an inkling of trouble in paradise. No, there’s someone outside involved.”
“Do you think Sajen is suspect?”
“He’d certainly have a motive, especially if he feared for Rose’s safety, but considering Josh believes he’s a suspect, I’m inclined to believe he’s not, given our good detective’s track record.”
“Maybe Rose did it. She had that spat with her grandparents at the gallery’s reception.”
Zachary sat on the couch. “It’s a possibility, but there’s that one guy who seemed more than a little unhappy that Osgood was able to woo Muriel all those years ago.”
“Miles La Rouche? Maybe.” Newell joined Zachary on the couch. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe we should just sleep on it and think more in the morning? We’re going to have to figure out some things, like where Sajen’s going to go.”
“You don’t want to keep him here?”
“Not if Josh considers him a suspect. He’d lock us up for aiding and abetting a fugitive. The only reason I’m not turning him out tonight is because of that snowstorm.”
“That’s only if Sajen is a suspect. I still say that if Josh was serious about hauling Sajen in, he’d have patrols scouring the county for him.”
“Do you think he’d be safe on the reservation? It’s considered a sovereign nation.”
“That’s true, but the tribe and Shawano County entered into a mutual aid pact a few years ago that included the tribe turning over any wanted criminals. If Sajen wants to get away, he’ll have to find a place where he can’t be tracked down by Shawano County.”
“When you take into consideration how much Menominee tribal officials wanted Anne Marie’s business to succeed, they’d probably want to hand Sajen over as a matter of law.”
Zachary exhaled loudly. “I guess we’re not going to solve this mystery with the limited info we have. I tried calling Sasha, but she’s not answering, which means she’s elbow deep in the Reimers’ remains—something I really don’t want to think about.”
“I have no idea how she manages to keep her lunch whenever she has to do an autopsy. I mean, murders aside, there are plenty of other situations that require cutting a dead person open.”
Zachary didn’t know, and he was trying desperately to shove the image out of his head. “Next time we see her, we can ask her. Let’s not think about it anymore tonight. We’re both wiped, so let’s get a good night’s sleep and try to figure out what to do in the morning.”
Newell gently moved Zachary’s head toward his chest. “I agree. We should just get some rest and not worry. After all, it went beyond all odds that one person came out here in the middle of this snowstorm, so I doubt we’ll have to deal with anything else tonight.”
Zachary and Newell strolled into the bedroom and started to get ready for bed. Once Zachary had changed into a T-shirt and sweat pants, he flopped on the bed and waited for Newell to join him.
“Hey, I noticed that Chad hasn’t been hanging around the bookstore very much lately. Is something going on?”
Zachary chuckled at the mention of his nephew’s name. “You could say that. Chad’s got a girlfriend.”
Newell raised an eyebrow. “Really? When did this happen?”
“At the school’s Christmas dance. Her name is Allison. She’s a natural redhead with freckles who is the president of the local FFA chapter and someone who loves to read.”
Newell whistled. “Nice. If she’s such an avid reader, though, why aren’t they both invading The Literary Barn on a regular basis, nuzzling each other on the upper level and laughing at random passages in books?”
“Well, as Chad explained it to me, he needs time to read her book collection, and she needs time to read his. Also, he wants to explore this relationship on his own without adults hanging around.”
“Are you sure ‘reading her books’ isn’t just a euphemism for wanting to touch her boobies?”
Zachary grimaced. “I hope not. Chad’s a smart kid. He knows all about the birds and bees.”
“From his mother, who takes every opportunity to go on weekend excursions outside the county? I’d be worried if that’s the case.”
“As a matter of fact, he learned them from me. Besides, it’s not my responsibility to be his parent and watch his every move.”
Newell snuggled closer to Zachary. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m kind of glad he hasn’t been around so much. I’ve been wanting to explore our relationship now that we’ve moved in together, and it’s hard to do with a hyperactive teenage boy hanging out.”
“It is nice to have some alone time. Moving into the country and away from the middle of the village was probably the best thing I’ve done lately.”
A wicked glint appeared in Newell’s eyes. “Well, maybe second best.”
Zachary rolled his eyes at the sexual innuendo, although he silently admitted Newell had a point. The two of them had been celibate while maintaining separate dwellings, but about a week after they’d moved in together, the prim and proper walls came crashing down as the two men had such a heated night of passion that they named it.
“Blitzkrieg deluxe,” Zachary whispered as he stared at the ceiling and licked his lips while visions of that night flashed before his eyes. It was a nice thought to fall asleep to.
Zachary blinked as the harsh light of day poured into the house as he opened the front d
oor. Sasha made a face as she stared at Zachary’s grim expression.
“Wow. I’d forgotten how scary you looked before your first caffeinated beverage of the day. Mind if I come in? I brought pastries, along with a thermos of hot chocolate.”
“Hopefully there’s enough for four. Right now we’re harboring a fugitive—or possible fugitive. Come on in, Sasha, and I’ll explain everything in a moment.”
Sasha walked in with some trepidation, looking like she was expecting a SWAT team to come out of the closet and arrest her as an accessory. She sat at the dining room table and tried to put a smile on her face.
“Okay, Poirot. What’s going on, and am I going to need to bail you guys out of jail?”
Zachary explained last night’s events. He told Sasha about Sajen’s arrival at their barn in the middle of a snowstorm and how he and Newell decided to keep him there for the night in spite of the fact that Joshua Callahan wanted to question him in connection with the Reimers’ sudden deaths.
“I can understand why you didn’t turn Sajen out during the snowstorm, but now that everything is all sunshiny, do you think it’s a good idea to keep him here?”
“No, but I should probably wait until he wakes up before I toss him out on his butt. Of course, I’m not sure where he could hide out in the dead of winter without freezing to death or being caught by someone. I think he should at least talk to Josh, even though our favorite detective is known for jumping on the wrong bandwagon without the slightest regard for others’ lives.”
“Fair enough. Have you heard anymore from Anne Marie? I can just imagine what she’s going through right now with the subjects of her inaugural visit dying suddenly and unnaturally.”
Zachary shook his head as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. “She had to duck reporters all day yesterday. I think she might have gone to the reservation last night to avoid the ones scoped out at her house. I, for one, can’t figure out why all of the media drones think that she’s the queen bee of all knowledge regarding this case. At least one of them must know what a detective is.”
“I’m sure they do, but they’ve come to expect ‘No comment’ from law enforcement. When it comes to ordinary folks, though, society loves nothing more than watching the media descend on some sweet young thing and rip her to shreds. Honestly, if the victims weren’t two people from elite social circles, the only reporter Anne Marie would have to avoid is the one from The Shawano Advocate, and it’s been my experience that the Advocate doesn’t set up camp in Gresham.”
“So did you find out anything from the autopsies? Any idea how they died?”
“I’m still trying to piece that together. I mean, they both died from gunshot wounds, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t happen the way it was set up to look.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever killed them tried to make it look like Osgood shot Muriel and then took his own life. That’s not possible.”
“Really? We don’t necessarily know their home life. Osgood could have grown tired of Muriel’s nagging and finally decided to put himself out of his misery.”
“While it might be possible Muriel was a shrew that needed to be tamed, there’s no way Osgood could have fired that gun. No gunshot residue on his hands or clothes. Also, I got a hold of his medical records, and Osgood Reimer has severe arthritis. He couldn’t have fired that gun and cleanly killed Muriel and then himself. Josh didn’t find additional bullet holes or anything like that. The killer used one shot for each victim.”
“So we have a sharpshooter who didn’t do character research. Terrific. I’m just wondering who could have done it.”
“Perhaps Josh is right, and Sajen is the murderer.”
Zachary shook his head. “While I subscribe to the notion that even a stopped clock can be right twice a day, I just don’t see Sajen as a cold-blooded killer. He seems like the kind of person who chains himself to a tree to prevent deforestation, not someone who waltzes in with a pistol and blows away two elderly people, in spite of the way they treated him.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time someone as pure as the driven snow snapped around here.” Sasha took a sip of hot chocolate. “All right. If it isn’t Sajen, who else could it be?”
“Their granddaughter, Rose, didn’t seem too thrilled with them during the reception. Her boyfriend might not resort to murder, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t.”
“Pissed off family member. That’s always a possibility. Is there anyone besides Romeo and Juliet that could potentially have pulled this off?”
Zachary folded his arms and tapped his left elbow with his finger. “That’s hard to say. From what I’ve heard from folks, pretty much everybody loved Osgood and Muriel. They’re about as close to royalty as you can get in the farming community.”
Sasha snapped her fingers. “You say everybody loved them, but what if someone loved one or both of them too much?”
Zachary pondered for a moment, knowing from research that many crimes were based on passion. “This might be a long shot, but Miles La Rouche indicated the other night that he would have preferred to be Muriel’s date to the ball all these years.”
“More than five decades of unrequited love—that would make anyone go mad. Still, I’m not sure Miles would have any more dexterity with a gun than Osgood would have.”
“Okay, Madame Balloon Popper. If you have any ideas to contribute, please do.”
“Just playing the devil’s advocate. Maybe if we get Sajen down here, he could throw a couple of names our way.”
“I guess it’s time to wake the fugitive. I just hope he’s more talkative than he was last night.”
Zachary walked upstairs and noticed a chill in the air as he approached the door to the guest bedroom. He knocked on the door, which felt cold to the touch, and got no response. He opened the door and felt a gust of frigid air nail him in the face. The window was wide open, with the curtains flapping in the breeze. He closed the window and surveyed the room. Nothing seemed to be missing.
“Zach!” Newell’s voice resonated from downstairs, and Zachary could tell there was something wrong by the tone.
Newell was standing at the foot of the stairs. “Is Sajen up there with you?”
“No. It looks like he might have taken off. The window was wide open.”
“One of the snowmobiles is missing. I’m thinking he took it and bolted.”
Zachary descended the stairs. “Which one did he take?” After seeing Newell’s guilty smile, he sighed. “Mine? Really? That little bastard!”
Sasha shook her head. “I’m not so sure you should dismiss Josh’s theory anymore. If Sajen’s running, he could be the killer.”
Newell took off his barn gloves and set them on the table. “Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll head out on my snowmobile and see if I can pick up his trail. Keep your cell phone nearby, just in case I find your ride.”
Zachary hugged Newell. “Be careful out there. Just in case Sajen really is a murderer, I’d prefer you not be the next dead body on Sasha’s table. Call me if you find anything.”
“Always. Animals are fed, so you can just stay here and keep warm. See you soon.”
Zachary sat back at the kitchen table. “What would make him take off after we took him in?”
“If he’s guilty, the reason is obvious. If he’s innocent, he might be afraid racism is alive and well in America.”
“He certainly thought that was the case with the Reimers. He thought they didn’t want Rose to be with him because he was Menominee.”
Sasha’s eyes widened like she’d had a revelation. “That certainly opens a few doors.”
Zachary raised an eyebrow. “Doors? What kind of doors? What are you thinking?”
“Wasn’t the argument pretty public? Anne Marie had quite a few of her Menominee friends at the reception. Some of them might not have been too keen on the elderly white folks berating a young and promising Menominee artist.”
“You’re right about tha
t, but who would be that angry, know where the Reimers live, be able to get in their home and blow them away with a gun? This is definitely going to take some thought.”
Sasha looked away. “I just hope this isn’t the start of some messy racial insanity. When you see it on television, it looks bad enough. I can only imagine the mean streets of America coming to small-town Gresham and laying it to waste.”
Zachary sighed. “I know. It’s not something I’d look forward to. Besides, the matter at hand should be who killed the Reimers, not whether the killer’s skin is a different color.”
“Could be worse. It could be one of your employees who is the killer.”
“Oh, let’s not go there. It’s still giving me nightmares that I had an employee who wanted to kill a giant teddy bear. I just hope this matter gets sorted out soon, because right now the unforeseen casualty in all this is the White Eagle Art Gallery. This was Anne Marie’s dream, and it could end up going poof if this scandal isn’t cleared up.”
“I know. The art gallery is something that can add to Gresham’s character, but someone just had to spoil the party.”
“Well, let’s stop talking about it and do something about it.” Zachary stood up.
“Uh oh. Zach, what are you plotting?”
“I’m thinking it’s time to go to the scene of the crime and look for clues. It’s not like the good detective we know as Josh Callahan is going to show up on my doorstep bearing answers.”
Zachary opened the back door to step outside and stopped short when he saw that Joshua was actually on his doorstep. The detective was layered in a sweater, a thick scarf and a trench coat, but it was definitely him.
“Zach, we’ve been informed that a murder suspect has been in the area, so we’re checking with folks living around here to see if he’s been here. Considering your penchant for getting your nose wedged into murder investigations around here, I thought I’d start with your place.”
Zachary rolled his eyes. “Wow. I was just telling Sasha that my breakfast wouldn’t be complete without a helping of sarcasm to go with some scrambled eggs and bacon. Okay, who is this suspect so I know who to look out for?”
