by Lee Pulaski
“I’d be lying if I said I was a hundred percent confident, but I think we should be able to outwit Allen for a few minutes at least. Then either the posse will come in and find the place empty, or sheriff’s deputies will arrive to take everyone into custody.”
“Still, I’d feel a lot better if Murphy was here, too.”
“Alexander, you’re stronger than you realize. Believe in that, and everything should end up all right. Besides, when have I ever been wrong?”
“We don’t have time to go through the whole list, Zach. The posse will be here momentarily.”
“Funny man. I knew there was a reason I hired you.”
The din of twilight was interrupted by flashlights appearing in a group. It was the posse, and they were clearly coming closer to the church. Zachary wasn’t sure how he was going to get them to turn away, and he wasn’t confident that law enforcement would arrive on the scene if some hothead decided to exercise his right to bear arms.
After about three minutes, the distant mob had arrived. Allen Bidwell was in the lead, and he had a look of mixed determination and glee at catching his prey.
“Zach, I take it we have you to thank for cornering the fugitive.”
Zachary furrowed his brow. “Fugitive? What do you mean?”
“That Indian Sajen. We heard he was hiding out here at the church.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“One of my friends noticed that the Reimers’ granddaughter, Rose, had visited here several times today. There seemed to be only one explanation.”
“She came for spiritual guidance.” Father Morgenthaler had joined Zachary and Alexander at the doorway. “She’s lost both of her grandparents, and with not having any parents to fall back on, the girl was frustrated and seeking answers. Allen Bidwell, I certainly hope you can give me answers on why you and your friends are coming here to the House of the Lord with guns and other assorted weapons.”
“We’ve been trying to track down the killer Sajen for several days, and when we heard he might be here, we feared the worst. We wanted to be prepared in case you needed saving.”
Father Morgenthaler folded his arms. “Do I look like I need saving? You lot might be a different story if you don’t disperse at once. Go home and be at peace.”
Allen looked down at his shoes, appearing contrite. “Father, we meant no disrespect.”
“I realize that, but I still think you need to return to your families and…”
Father Morgenthaler’s command was interrupted by a scuffle near the side of the church. One of the posse members came around the corner as he dragged Sajen by his hair while two others held Rose by her arms. It was clear that attempts to sneak the lovebirds out the back door had failed. What wasn’t clear was how many people had been part of Allen’s vigilante patrol. How many friends could the redneck yutz have?
Allen lowered his shotgun. “Well, we got what we came for. Sorry for the commotion, padre, but now we can take the fugitive to the authorities.”
Zachary took a step forward so he was almost toe to toe with Allen. “And how exactly do you plan on taking him to the sheriff’s office? Tied to the roof like Bambi after he’s been hunted down in the woods?”
“Zach, I can’t figure out why you’re so against us doing our civic duty.”
“Your civic duty does not include deputizing yourself as law enforcement. We pay taxes for a reason, Allen, and it’s not so you and your friends can go play Robin Hood whenever you feel the law isn’t moving fast enough for you.”
Allen scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sasha appeared next to Zachary. “I just called Josh. He’s two minutes away, and he’s calling in all available backup to assist.”
Allen smiled with self-satisfaction. “See? I told you they’d take us seriously.”
“Oh, they take you seriously, all right. You see, they’re not coming to lock up Sajen. They’re coming to lock up you and your dirty dozens on charges of trespassing and property damage. It seems, while you’ve been tracking down Sajen, you’ve been waltzing onto people’s private property and wreaking all sorts of havoc. Sheriff’s deputies, instead of looking for Sajen like they were supposed to, have been honeycombing all over the county to take statements from angry property owners about you.”
Allen’s smile crumbled. “They’re more concerned about us than about catching a killer?”
“Allen, you have no proof Sajen is the murderer,” Zachary said. “Sajen is only being sought for questioning. There is no case against him yet.”
“Yet.” Allen walked over to Sajen and put the captive Menominee’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Everyone knows that his little girlfriend wanted to get away from ol’ Beef Jerky and Cherries Jubilee, although I can’t fathom why. If those two were my grandparents, I would idolize them and sing their praises all over this county. It makes sense that her loyal man would take steps to snuff them out.”
Sajen struggled. “That’s a lie!”
Zachary bit his lip. He was hoping Joshua’s estimate of being two minutes from the scene was an overestimate. He didn’t know how to get Sajen away from this lynch mob without somebody getting hurt, but something needed to be done before things took a turn for the worse.
Alexander tugged on Zachary’s shirtsleeve. “You should probably duck.”
Zachary was confused. “Duck?”
It was soon clear why Alexander made the suggestion when a gun blast made everyone jump in surprise. Allen and his gang let go of Sajen and Rose and gathered together in a group. Zachary couldn’t understand why they were moving scared until he noticed who had the active gun. It was Newell.
“Allen, I think you and your herd of ornery steers have caused enough harm for one day. It’s time for y’all to leave.”
Allen wasn’t about to be run off, though. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the one with the gun.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, feed boy, but…” Allen paused as about a dozen posse members cocked their guns. “…we have guns, too.”
Zachary’s eyes widened as he saw the danger coming. He quickly herded his friends and assorted colleagues back into the church. He and Newell were about to barricade the door when sirens could be heard outside. Zachary glanced as his watch. Joshua was thirty seconds early.
Newell heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God for the cavalry.”
“I’ll second that,” Father Morgenthaler said as he leaned against the wall.
Zachary kissed Newell on the cheek. “I can’t believe how courageous you were just now, but do me a favor and don’t do that again anytime soon.”
Newell rolled his eyes. “Well, if you wouldn’t get yourself into perilous situations like this, I wouldn’t have to come in with guns blazing.”
“Just for your information, I was in the bookstore minding my own business when temptation waltzed in. I had no idea Allen and his buddies were in the area, and I certainly had no inkling they were going to try and storm the church.”
“Well, fortunately, I just happened to call the bookstore and caught Alexander before he left for the day, and he mentioned where you went, so I figured I should join you—just in case.”
Zachary turned to Alexander. “You might have mentioned this earlier.”
Alexander shrugged. “He just told me he was going to get some groceries and meet you back at the shop to head home. He didn’t tell me he was going to swoop in like John Wayne.”
Newell cleared his throat. “I’m not hearing a thank-you anywhere in this discussion.”
The main door to the church opened, and Joshua walked in with a pair of uniformed deputies. “Everyone in here all right?”
Sasha nodded. “A little shaken, but we should be fine.”
Joshua noticed Sajen. “I’ve been trying to track you down for nearly five days. I have some unanswered questions in a murder investigation, and you split from the crime scene before I could
ask them. Would you care to tell me where you’ve been keeping yourself?”
Sajen looked at Zachary like he was a trapped animal, unsure if he should curl up in a ball or go bolting out the door. Then he winced in pain and grabbed his shoulder where he’d been shot.
Zachary turned to Joshua. “I think considering what’s happened, Sajen might need some assurances that the sheriff’s office isn’t going to be a lynch mob like Allen and his little band of vigilantes.”
“Well, I don’t have enough evidence to arrest you, Sajen, but the fact that you’ve been avoiding questioning makes me more than a little suspicious. We can do the interview here, if Father Morgenthaler has no objections.”
Father Morgenthaler nodded in agreement. “You can use my office, if you like.”
Joshua started ushering Sajen toward the church office. “Sasha, you should probably join us just in case that wound causes issues. How did he get that?”
“One of those yahoos you just apprehended decided to shoot first and ask questions later when I tried to elude them in the woods up on the reservation,” Sajen replied. “Some people aren’t known for being particularly nice to Menominee people.”
Joshua stopped Sajen and turned to the others. “Okay, I’m going to need you to clear out for a bit. There is another detective outside to take statements regarding Allen Bidwell’s little invasion.”
Rose stepped forward. “I’d like to stay here, make sure nothing happens to Sajen.”
“All right, but you have to stay here in the worship hall. The rest of you, adios.”
Zachary rolled his eyes at Joshua’s curt dismissal but stepped outside, where he saw Allen Bidwell and about two dozen other men sitting down on the ground. Their guns were being placed into evidence bags and moved toward a van marked “Shawano County Sheriff.” Zachary wasn’t surprised Allen and the others who thought like he did were getting locked up, but it would have been nice if they’d been apprehended before they’d decided to storm the church.
It took almost an hour before the other detective was able to get Zachary and Newell’s statements, but once that was completed, the two walked over to Newell’s truck and hopped in, both shivering from the cold. Newell wrapped his arms around Zachary’s shoulders.
“Newell, I still think it was very brave of you to face that mob.”
Newell chuckled. “Never underestimate the element of surprise. So did you find out anything before the torches and pitchforks showed up?”
Zachary smiled. Where to begin…
He told Newell about all the surprises over the last hour or so, starting with the visit from Perry, the alleged long-lost relative concerned with who would be in charge of the Reimer family juggernaut now that the grandparents had bought a different kind of farm. Zachary followed with the revelation that Rose was pregnant with Sajen’s baby, and then the fact that Allen’s posse had managed to get a pound of flesh out of Sajen when chasing him through the woods.
Newell let out a whistle. “I guess you had a more exciting day than I did. The highlight at work for me was the new hay shipment we got in.”
Zachary bit his lip to keep from smirking. “Hay is good.”
“You’re a terrible liar, but that’s one of the things I love about you.”
“So should we head back home and have some dinner?”
Newell glanced at his watch. “It’s after seven. Think we have time to cook anything, or should we stop at Sigrid’s?”
“As much as I enjoy seeing that hyperactive German food temptress extract details from me, we still have that leftover pot roast from last night. I certainly don’t want it to go to waste, and I also don’t want to deal with any more people tonight.”
Newell moaned with satisfaction. “Oh, Zach. Talk meaty to me.”
“I will, as soon as we get home. Now start the truck.”
Newell obeyed, and the truck roared with life. After giving it a few minutes to warm up, he pulled onto Main Street and headed in the direction of home. Despite the chill of the night, a clear, starry sky greeted Zachary and Newell as they journeyed back home. As much as Zachary had enjoyed living in the village limits before, he had to admit that the ten-minute drive from his bookstore to the farmhouse was very relaxing, and it allowed for a certain distance from the typical small-town drama.
“Any idea who that is?”
Zachary was shaken from his thoughts by the interrogative statement, and he quickly saw why. A white car was parked near the barn, its lights shining on the closed door. It took a moment for Zachary to realize that was Anne Marie’s car.
“Uh oh. If Anne Marie made the trip out of here after dark, I’m guessing it’s not to deliver something for dessert to complement the leftover roast.” Zachary sighed and braced himself for bad news.
Once Zachary and Newell got out of the truck, the lights faded on Anne Marie’s car, and she stepped out.
“Hi, Anne Marie,” Newell said in a welcoming tone. “What brings you out here tonight?”
Anne Marie sniffled, and a closer examination of her face indicated she’d been crying. “Oh, Zach! It’s one wave of bad news after another! Someone’s wanting to buy my art gallery!”
CHAPTER NINE
It turned out that what Anne Marie had meant to say to Zachary was that someone wanted to buy the building the art gallery currently occupied, not the ownership of the gallery itself. Still, Zachary could understand why Anne Marie was so upset. After her long journey to get the gallery open and then to almost have her dream derailed after the opening night reception, this was like another speedbump on the highway to Hell.
Fortunately, Zachary knew what would settle the heartburn of Anne Marie’s runaway roller coaster ride—pot roast. Once Zachary warmed up the roast in the microwave and carved it up, he handed Anne Marie a plate and let her dig in. It seemed to calm her down a little bit.
Over the course of dinner, Anne Marie revealed more about the real estate offer. It apparently came from an out-of-town investor named Remy R. Pierre, who expressed interest in turning the building into an arcade. He was offering seventy thousand dollars to purchase the gallery, which seemed rather generous, considering the place was appraised for only sixty-two thousand dollars.
“I just can’t figure out why this man wants my building.” Anne Marie paused to take a bite. “There are several vacant places along Main Street, all bigger than my quaint gallery. Why wouldn’t he just try to get in one of those buildings? It makes no sense.”
“What’s confusing me is why this guy wants to build an arcade,” Zachary said. “While Gresham is certainly trying to increase its status as a tourist destination, an arcade doesn’t exactly fit with the village’s flavor.”
“Especially when you see so many video game options out there today,” Newell added. “Who wants to play them in an arcade or hang out around pinball machines when you can play against others online through most consoles? That might have worked when we were younger, but this generation is different.”
Anne Marie shrugged. “I tried looking this guy up online, and I couldn’t find anything on a Remy Pierre, so I have no idea if this guy’s even legit.”
“I wouldn’t worry until you find out more about him. It’s not like he’s planning a hostile takeover or anything like that.” Zachary passed some rolls to Newell. “I’d keep moving forward with your new exhibit and not letting some Johnny-come-lately try to scare you.”
“What could this guy want my building for? I bought it for a song because it was in such bad shape. Most of my money went into renovating the building, which is why it took me almost six months to open the place.”
“Is there any kind of quirky history about the place? There’s got to be some reason he wants to buy that building for more than it’s worth.”
Anne Marie stirred the gravy in her mashed potatoes. “I can’t afford to start over again. I like where I am, and considering how much work went into opening my gallery and keeping it open, it’s just too much work to go back t
o square one.”
“Anne Marie, the solution seems pretty simple. Just tell the guy no and move on with your life. If you own the property outright, this Remy can’t just snatch it away from you.”
“Zach, considering all the craziness that has happened in the last week with the gallery—not the least of which was Jacob Malueg trying to have it closed down through a village board edict—I think you can understand why I’m a little bit paranoid.”
Newell nodded. “It’s easy to be that way when everyone really is out to get you.”
“Isn’t it, though? I just want to showcase art and help them receive something for their efforts. What is it with all these cosmic forces trying to stop me from having that dream?”
“This might sound a bit callous to say at this moment in time…” Zachary began.
“He’s going to say it anyway, though,” Newell said with a smirk. The smirk went away when Zachary stomped Newell’s foot.
“Anne Marie, you’ve dealt with a number of challenges in your life. Remember how you told me you had to work four times as hard as anyone else to prove yourself—two times for being a woman and another two for being Menominee. You’ve always been a fighter, Anne Marie. This is just one more battle for you to win, and when you do, you’ll be able to stand up on the roof of your business with the opposition’s severed head in your hands and yell, ‘I’m still standing, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to knock me down!’”
Newell and Anne Marie stared as Zachary, their jaws wide open. Anne Marie held her fork with a piece of pot roast in midair.
Zachary shrugged. “Metaphorically, at least.”
Newell rolled his eyes and turned to Anne Marie. “In all seriousness, though, how much of an inspection was done on the place before you bought it?”
“Well, I bought it through Harrison Sorenson, our local real estate broker. I think he did the standard inspections. Why do you ask?”
“Maybe there’s something hidden away that only certain people know about—buried treasure or something like that. They could be sealed behind the walls or buried in the foundation.”
