“Why do you suppose she didn’t just hand this to you?”
“Her mother brought her over. Emma couldn’t let her see the note,” I said.
“No. This note proves what you and Sara suspected; she has a brother. With no registered birth certificate.”
“Same as Emma. Maybe they have a fake one for him, too.”
The sheriff looked at his watch. “It’s three ten. Your observations, the fact that we can find no birth record for the Hueber children, and now this note, all support probable cause, in my book. Get the affidavit request for the search warrant written up. We’ll get it upstairs pronto for Judge Adams to sign.
With the search warrant in hand, Smoke suggested I phone Sara to ask if she knew when Curtis Hueber got home from work.
“Gosh, Corky. I’ve seen him around by six o’clock, or so. Why?”
“I can’t talk about it now, but don’t be surprised if you see some activity there tonight.”
“Really?”
“Thanks, Sara.” We hung up and I relayed, “Six o’clock.”
He looked at his watch. It was 5:43. “Okay. I told Weber and Zubinski I’d let them know when to meet us there. I think it’s best for the kids if we give them time to eat their dinner before all hell breaks loose in their lives.”
“For sure.”
“Let’s say six thirty. I’ll call Vince, you call Mandy.”
Smoke and I sat in his Crown Victoria, a block from the Hueber’s house, waiting for Weber and Zubinski.
“So Martin was relieved after you took him to visit Juergen in the hospital?” he said.
“Yes he was. I think we all are, knowing Juergen’s on the mend.”
“True. It coulda been a lot worse, that’s for sure. Another inch to the left woulda been it for him.”
“Thank heavens it was a twenty-two instead of a forty caliber.”
“That, too. Well, we got everyone in the state on the lookout for Champ’s vehicle, and for Champ himself. When we find him, Fletch’s capture won’t be far behind. We’ll make sure of that.”
“They must have deep pockets, and that helped them go into hiding somewhere.”
“When they surface, they’re ours. And Homeland Security’s. Probably the FBI’s.”
“They are in big time trouble, for sure.” I hesitated disclosing the latest message to Smoke. “Don’t freak out, but I heard from mystery caller again.”
Smoke narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “What did he say?”
“‘So you have a big furry friend to warm you up at night.’”
“It is gorilla man making those calls?”
“Either that, or we have a bigger problem.”
“Ah, you mean it’s someone in the sheriff’s office, or probation, maybe, making the calls?”
“Maybe.”
Smoke gave the steering wheel a couple of hard taps. “That thought cuts to the core.”
“And I seriously cannot think of one person who it could be.”
“Damn.”
Two squad cars pulled up and parked behind us, within seconds of each other. Weber, Zubinski, Smoke, and I got out of our vehicles and gathered under a tree. “Weber, why don’t you cover the back door until we’re inside, and have things stabilized,” Smoke said.
“Will do.”
“They don’t have any firearms registered in either of their names, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have any. Hopefully they’ll let us in without incident. If not, we move fast, and get the kids out safely. We got both the arrest warrants, and the search warrant, which is limited to the children, and their birth records. Let’s move,” Smoke said.
Smoke had assigned me to take the lead, for two reasons. Emma knew who I was, and people were generally more likely to open their door for a woman than a man. That’s the way it was. I rang the doorbell, and Smoke and Mandy stayed out of the line of sight. It seemed like forever before the entry light came on, and Curtis Hueber pulled the curtain back from the side door panel to see who it was. He opened the door part way. “Mister Curtis Hueber?” I said.
“Yes?”
“I’m Sergeant Aleckson with the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Department, and I have a warrant signed by a judge to enter your house.” I held it up. He glanced at it, and then behind me. His eyes widened, and that meant Smoke and Mandy had stepped forward with their weapons drawn. “This will go a lot easier for your family if you let us in, and we don’t have to kick in the door. Your choice.”
Several muscles in his face twitched. He nodded, released his hold on the door, and moved back.
I stepped onto the doorjamb. They had the same split-entry house design as Sara’s, with about a four foot by six foot landing. Not enough personal safety space for both Curtis and me. “Is there anyone in the house besides your family?”
Anita appeared at the top step. “Curtis? What—” She stopped when she saw me, and the troops behind me.
“Stay where you are, ma’am.” I glanced at Curtis. “Are there others here?”
“No.”
“I obviously see your wife. Where are your two children?”
Curtis’s face twitched some more. Apparently, he’d thought they’d done a better job of hiding their son. Anita grabbed the top of the railing.
“Emma’s in the kitchen,” he said.
“And your son?”
“In his room.”
“Where is that?”
He pointed down the stairs. “In the lower level.”
“All right. Let’s head upstairs first. We’ll follow you,” I said.
“Zubinski, tell Weber to come in. One of you can hang here for a while,” Smoke said.
Curtis, Smoke, and I headed to the spotless kitchen where Emma sat at the table. I walked over to her, and held out my hand. She looked at her parents then at me. I nodded, and she put her hand in mine, and stood up. “Emma, you’re going to spend the night with friends of ours because we need to take your parents with us, to talk to them about some things.”
Anita gasped, and fell into her husband’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her.
Zubinski joined us in the kitchen.
“Deputy Mandy here will go with you to your room, so you can pack some clothes. Okay?” I said.
Emma nodded, and the two of them walked down the hallway.
Smoke narrowed his eyes on Anita. “We’ll need the children’s birth certificates. Where are they?”
“Um, they’re in a file cabinet in our bedroom,” Anita whispered.
“Show me,” Smoke said. Curtis took a step with Anita. “No, Mister Hueber, you stay here.”
After they’d left, Curtis glared at me, and I pretended not to notice as I scanned the living, dining, and kitchen areas in the open-style home. There were wooden blinds on all the windows, closed up tight. A necessary feature when you don’t want the world to know what’s going on in your deceitful world.
Smoke and Anita returned a few minutes later. Smoke was holding the forged certificates. “We’re taking you into custody, after your children have left.”
“On what charges?” Curtis demanded.
Smoke waved the papers at them. “Illegal documents, child endangerment—”
“Our children aren’t in danger.”
Zubinski emerged with Emma who carried a stuffed-full backpack. “All set,” Mandy said.
Smoke called down the stairs, “Weber, would you come here?” He was there in seconds. “You and Zubinski can hold down the fort here for a while. Emma, will you show the sergeant, and me, your brother’s room?” He reached out his hand. “I’ll carry your backpack.”
Emma led the way to the dark basement. She flipped on a switch, and the family room came to light. “Over here.” Emma pointed then walked to a closed door. There was a deadbolt lock above the knob. She unlocked it, and turned the knob. Curtis had failed to mention his son was locked in his room. The blood heated in my veins.
“Conner?” Emma said.
The boy was sitt
ing on his bed reading a book. At least he had one way to escape his dismal life. His eyebrows rose slightly when he looked at Smoke and me. I was drawn to his dark brown eyes, and tried to guess what he was thinking. There was a hint of determination, mixed with wonder, mixed with relief. “Thurpa?” And then he said a few more words, in what sounded like Russian. Emma replied in the same language. A secret language of their own?
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“My first name is Thurpa. He calls me that. And then he asked who you are, so I told him,” Emma said. What did she mean by her first name?
“And I’m not Conner, I’m Sula.” I liked his spunk, and smiled at him.
“I’ve never heard the names Sula and Thurpa before,” I said. They were not your run-of-the-mill American names.
Sula shrugged. “They were the names given by our mother, before we came here to Minnesota.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Our home is Georgia.”
Georgia. Did they come via Champ, also? How many people in Winnebago County were originally from there, anyway? I wanted to ask the children a hundred questions, but it wasn’t the time. And the fact that their names were not Sese and Lela answered my unspoken question. They were not the children pictured with Maisa. The disappointment of that realization weighed on my heart.
“Sula, we’re here to take you and your sister somewhere where you can get a good night’s sleep, for a change,” I said.
He looked at me without expression for a moment, then nodded and smiled. “You saw me in the kitchen late at night. I prayed someone would.” That was why he had opened the blinds. And likely had closed them, because he’d heard his parents, and was afraid they’d catch him.
I smiled back. “Yes I did, and you can thank your sister for leaving me a note in my squad car.” I looked at Emma. “Sorry we didn’t find it until today.”
“That’s okay,” Emma said.
I switched my gaze back to Sula. “The note convinced a judge that what was happening to you here was not right.”
The siblings looked at each other, and nodded. It seemed the note had been a joint effort.
“I’m glad you let Thurpa sit in your squad car,” Sula said.
“Let’s get moving, kids. Get some clothes together, ah, Sula, and we’ll be off,” Smoke said.”
Sula jumped off the bed and went to his closet. There was a plastic crate with a few pairs of shoes in it. He dumped it out then filled it with clothes and books. He picked it up, and we all trooped to the entry, and crowded together while Emma—Thurpa—found her jacket, hat, and mittens in the front closet.
“I don’t have any. Warm outerwear,” Sula said.
I was so angered by his words, it took me a minute. I reached into the closet and found Curtis’s down jacket. Sula was almost as tall as Curtis, but half as wide. “Here, this looks like it’ll fit you until we get you one of your own.” He put it on. Smoke reached up to the shelf, found a stocking cap and gloves, and handed them to him.
“Seven twenty-eight?” Smoke called out to Zubinski.
“Yes?” She appeared at the stairs.
“Your riders are ready.”
“Can I say ’bye to Mom and Dad?” Emma asked.
“Not right now. But you’ll see them again,” Smoke said.
Mandy, Smoke, the children, and I stepped outside and walked across the street to Mandy’s squad car. The foster home had been arranged, and Sula, known as Conner, and Thurpa, known as Emma, would stay there as long as was necessary.
“We get to ride in a police car? This is the best day of my life.” Sula’s words brought tears to my eyes. I blinked them away as we got the kids situated in the squad car. Mandy turned her flashing lights on for a few seconds to make it an even more special ride.
As they drove away, Smoke and I walked back to the house. “Not that I understand abuse in the first place, but how can anyone justify abusing one child while spoiling the other? I don’t get it,” I said.
“You’re asking a guy that thinks those who do, should spend at least as many years in the slammer, as they spent doing just that.”
“At least.”
A sense of relief and deep satisfaction swept through me as I slapped handcuffs on Anita Hueber, and heard Weber locking a pair on Curtis’s wrists. I’d heard that parents should not discipline children when they were angry, but I was confident that same philosophy didn’t apply to cops applying handcuffs to the occasional person they placed under arrest.
Weber took Curtis, and Smoke and I took Anita to the jail for booking. As we filled out the custody form, Anita said, “Don’t you have to read us our rights?”
“You watch too much TV. But we’ll be sure to follow legal procedure, and do just that at the right time,” Smoke said. I kept my smile to a minimum.
An hour later, a corrections officer brought Anita to the jail conference room. Orange was not her color, but then again, the jail jumpsuit was not designed with fashion in mind. I hit the record button on the video recorder, and Smoke read her the Miranda Warning. She said she understood her rights, and declined to speak to an attorney.
“Before we get into the meat and potatoes of what appears to be mistreatment of your son, I’d like you to tell us how you got Conner and Emma in the first place. We know that you had a son in Utah who passed away.”
Anita looked at her hands while she spoke. “We needed a clean break after we lost Laban. We both had a terrible time coping. My brother was helping bring orphaned children from poor countries here to Minnesota. He told us about a brother and sister who needed a family. They were older, eight and six. We didn’t want to start all over with a baby anyway, so that sounded like a good fit for us.”
“Who is your brother?” Smoke said.
“Homer Fletcher.”
Bingo. I couldn’t write his name down fast enough.
“Does he happen to work with a man named Waldo Champion?”
“Why yes, he does. He calls him Champ.”
Smoke nodded. “Ah. It just so happens we’ve been looking for Mister Fletcher to ask him some questions.” And charge him with a long list of crimes, including attempted murder.
Anita looked puzzled. “He’s in the area, in Stearns County, about ten miles from the western Winnebago County border.”
“When’s the last time you talked to him?”
“I can’t remember, maybe a year. We’re not exactly close.”
Smoke stared at her a second. “We’ll need his full name, date of birth, address, and phone number.” He pushed a notepad and pen across the table. Anita wrote down the information, and Smoke snatched it up. “Excuse me a minute.” He left the room, and Anita and I sat without uttering a single word for the three minutes he was gone. When Smoke returned, he resumed the interview. “Where did your children come here from?”
“From one of the old Soviet countries. Georgia”
“Are you sure they were orphans?” he said.
Anita’s mouth dropped open. “Well yes, that’s what they said.”
“Who said?”
“My brother and his business partner.”
“How about the children, what did they say about their parents?” Smoke said.
“Their father had died the year before they came. Then their mother got sick, and they were taken to a home for children, an orphanage, to stay until she got better. But a short time later, they were told she had died. They came here not long after that.”
“Sad for them.” Smoke thought a moment. “Anita, what did their adoptions cost?”
Anita’s voice cracked when she said, “Forty thousand.”
“Seems mighty steep to me.”
“Part of it went to help pay their mother’s medical bills and burial.”
“You actually believed that?”
“Yes, we did.” She pursed her lips.
“Let’s fast forward. Your children arrived here, and instead of getting legal adoption papers, you get illegal b
irth certificates naming you and Curtis as the birth parents.”
“Homer convinced us it made things less complicated that way.”
“Homer was wrong. It made your life way more complicated. But we’ll get back to that.” Smoke leaned forward and put his arms on the table, with his palms turned up. His inviting pose. “It seems that you had some problems with your son. Tell us how that all started.”
“Little Emma was an angel from day one. She would cry sometimes because she missed her mother. With Conner, it was a different story altogether. He was strong-willed and sullen at times. I home-schooled the children the first year so they could learn the language, and be better prepared for school.”
“And fit in as American children?”
“Yes.”
“But Conner never made it to school,” Smoke said.
“No. He didn’t want to fit in. He didn’t like us, or our rules. He didn’t even want to be here. We thought he might run away, and take our Emma with him.” Our Emma.
“So you kept him prisoner, made him a slave. And made Emma tell everyone she was an only child.”
She shook her head and closed her eyes on her. “It got out of hand. Conner was nothing like our Laban.”
His name is not Conner. It’s Sula.
The interviews with Anita, and then Curtis, Hueber went past eleven. It was 11:12 p.m. when they were both back in their jail cells for the night. Smoke and I headed to the squad room to write our reports, so they were filed with the county attorney by morning.
“Whether it was intuition, or instinct, you and Sara were spot on with the Huebers.”
“If Sara had only seen that poor boy years ago.”
“He’ll need a lot of help coming to grips with everything he’s been through, that’s a given. And so will his sister.”
“Man, two more kids in the child protection system,” I said.
“It’s a shame, all right. The good news is we got Eliso’s, and now the Huebers’, testimony. And we’ll have Juergen Dettweiller’s, when he’s up to writing it. We’ll have no trouble getting Adams to sign search warrants for Champ’s home and business.”
A Death in Lionel's Woods Page 25
