My mother came rushing in and scooped me in her arms. “What on earth happened? I looked out my window and saw two squad cars drive by, toward town, so I went to the bedroom, and there were two more squad cars here. You’re all messed up, dear. What on earth happened?”
She would not like the story one little bit.
“I’m all right. I’ll tell you all about it, Mom, but can we talk about it later?”
Sheriff Twardy, three investigators, plus a host of deputies, made their way through my doors in the next twenty minutes. The sheriff ordered me to take the next three days off, which, added to my scheduled days off, meant that except for writing my report, I wouldn’t have to be at work for a week. Time for some debriefing, refocusing.
Twardy fussed over me for a while, then asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out at the hospital?”
“I’m sure. I may be a little stiff tomorrow, but I’ll be fine.” I was grateful my karate training, ballet lessons, and physical conditioning had prevented any real injury.
“How about I bring dinner over here tonight instead of you and Sara coming over to Gramps’?” Mother asked.
Food? “Mom, thanks, but I really don’t have any appetite.”
Mother took charge of my house the rest of the evening, making coffee for my fellow officers, tidying the living room, attending to Sara and me. When Nick phoned, Mother told him the story, and he hurried over to be sure I was still in one piece. He stayed for a long time, holding me, telling me to consider a career change. Eventually, everyone left except Sara and my mother, and I didn’t argue when they insisted on spending the night.
It was after midnight, and I lay in bed staring at the thin stream of light creeping in from the hallway, spanning my bedroom ceiling. My mother was next to me, her protective arm across my stomach, puffing little breaths of sleep. Tears rolled from my eyes and dropped to the pillow supporting my head. I was overcome with the raw emotion of gratitude for being alive. Alvie Eisner had been determined to send me to my death, but I wasn’t ready to go. There was so much more in the world I wanted to do, see, touch, hear, taste, smell, and experience.
And there were many unanswered questions to settle. What would happen at Alvie Eisner’s trial? Would she be ruled competent even to stand trial? What would become of sweet little Rebecca? Could we locate another family member to take care of her, to love her? How would she ever understand it all?
And, on a personal level, what would happen in my relationship with Nick? With Smoke? Would our professional relationship remain the same constant it had been for six years? It was almost too much to ponder, especially in light of all the emotions I had felt as I fought for my life, and in the moments after. I put my hand over my mother’s, closed my eyes, and said my prayers.
EPILOGUE
Questioning Alvie Eisner was a painful process for Smoke and the other detectives. Every answer had to be prodded, slowly squeezed out of her. Eventually, they pieced together a cursory summary of her life. Alvie’s mother had left when she and her brother Henry were children. She didn’t know where her mother was, or if she was still alive.
Alvie hinted at, but wouldn’t elaborate on, the abuse she and her brother had suffered at the hands of the uncle who lived with them. Her brother lived in a local group home and had multiple mental problems. Alvie said Rebecca and Henry were the only living family she knew about. She would not name Nolan’s father, but said he was dead.
We worked hard to locate Rebecca’s mother, without success. There was no family to assume Rebecca’s care, so Winnebago County Human Services placed her in foster care while continuing to search for her mother. I longed to visit Rebecca, but given my involvement in her grandmother’s criminal case, I was advised to stay away for the time being.
It didn’t take investigators long to discover where Alvie had gotten the haloperidol to drug Arthur Franz and Marshall Kelton. Butler Drug was relieved they had not made such a grave error in Henry Eisner’s prescription refill. Analysis of Judge Fenneman’s IV tubing revealed traces of haloperidol, also.
DNA testing confirmed Alvie Eisner was the one who had smoked the cigarettes and drank the soda in the cornfield by Beebe Lake. It also proved she had licked the stamp and the seal on the envelope of the note she’d sent me. It was her straight, gray strand of hair that had caught in the hinge of Judge Fenneman’s eyeglasses on the night he died.
When we searched the Eisner farm, we found more supporting evidence to build an airtight case against Alvie, with or without her confession. Her size ten Propet work shoes were a perfect fit in the footprint cast collected from the cornfield. We found a man’s jumpsuit and a mustache in the trunk of her old Chevy. Smoke and I had seen the same vehicle on Marshall’s street the morning his body was found. We had thought it was a man behind the wheel, but it was Alvie Eisner. When I showed the picture of the automobile to Mrs. Sanford, Sara’s neighbor, she said it looked just like the car that was parked on her street. She was sure of it when she saw it again.
We located the three bullets taken from the Browne’s home, Arthur Franz's Palm Pilot, and a personal calendar belonging to Marshall Kelton. We found two murder-suicide notes, one allegedly written by Jason Browne and the other by Sara Speiss, printed on the same printer as all the other notes, the same printer connected to the computer in Alvie’s living room.
There was a box under Alvie’s bed containing the papers from Nolan’s criminal case, and evidence someone had practiced tracing over the officials’ signatures. We found a scratch paper containing a series of numbers. The hospital confirmed it was the code to disarm the emergency exit door. We talked to the nurse who had smoked a cigarette with Alvie Eisner outside that exit.
We discovered five pieces of paper that had been torn from one larger sheet of paper, each containing a name and description: Jason Browne, double-crosser; Marshall Kelton, useless public defender; Sara Speiss, spineless probation officer; Arthur Franz, merciless county attorney; Detective Dawes, heartless cop. Holding the pieces of paper in my hands sent chills through me, grateful for the living, mournful over the dead.
The most shocking, unexpected discovery in our search of the Eisner property was made in Alvie’s spare bedroom. A bullet was lodged in a piece of woodwork surrounding the window, making the investigators curious. On closer look, they noticed a dark stain on the wood floor under a throw rug and used a Luma Lite to confirm the stain was blood. In addition to the large pool on the floor, many lavender splatters appeared on the walls and floor, consistent with the blood spray from a close-range shooting.
During questioning, Alvie broke down and actually wept as she relayed how she had killed her uncle—whom she finally named as Nolan’s father—when she caught him sexually abusing Nolan. The uncle was not employed and apparently had no friends, since a search of the records revealed no one had reported his disappearance. If Alvie had reported her uncle’s abuse all those years before, things might have turned out differently, but that was a big “if.”
Alvie’s life and perceptions had spiraled downward, leading her to justify and embrace acts of murder. Whether she was found competent to stand trial or not, in my mind she was a madwoman who had robbed three precious people of their lives. Judge Fenneman, Arthur Franz, and Marshall Kelton had died because Alvie Eisner’s warped mind decided they deserved to. It would be up to the courts to determine her punishment. What she had done to her uncle was between her and God, as far as I was concerned.
There were still times in the weeks that followed when I was jolted from sleep, terrified because I was being choked by Alvie Eisner in a nightmare, her piercing stare as cold as her hands. My heart pounded when I awoke—threatening to explode in my chest, my bed drenched with sweat, chilling me to the bone. She is in the Winnebago County Jail, I would remind myself, speaking the words out loud, over and over. One night I called the jail to be certain the words were true.
Yes, Alvie Eisner was in jail awaiting trial, stopped before she could
hurt or kill more people. And, as horrendous as it was, the experience with Eisner renewed my dedication to stay vigilant in my chosen career.
Also by Christine Husom
Buried in Wolf Lake When a family’s Golden Retriever brings home the dismembered leg of a young woman, the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Department launches an investigation unlike any other. Who does the leg belong to, and where is the rest of her body? Sergeant Corinne Aleckson and Detective Elton Dawes soon discover they are up against an unidentified psychopath who targets women with specific physical features. Are there other victims, and will they learn the killer’s identity in time to prevent another brutal murder?
An Altar By the River A man phones the Winnebago County Sheriff's Department, frantically reporting his brother is armed with a large dagger and on his way to the county to sacrifice himself. Sergeant Corinne Aleckson takes the call, learning the alarming reasons behind the young man's death wish. When the department investigates, they plunge into the alleged criminal activities of a hidden cult and disturbing cover-up of an old closed-case shooting death. The cult members have everything to lose and will do whatever it takes to prevent the truth coming to light. But will they find the altar by the river in time to save the young man's life?
The Noding Field Mystery When a man’s naked body is found staked out in a farmer’s soybean field, Sergeant Corinne Aleckson and Detective Elton Dawes are called to the scene. The cause of death is not apparent, and the significance of why he was placed there is a mystery. As Aleckson, Dawes, and the rest of their Winnebago Sheriff’s Department team gather evidence, and look for suspects and motive, they hit one dead end after another. Then an old nemesis escapes from jail and plays in the shocking end.
A Death in Lionel's Woods When a woman’s emaciated body is found in a hunter’s woods, Sergeant Corinne Aleckson is coaxed back into the field to assist Detective Smoke Dawes on the case. It seems the only hope for identifying the woman lies in a photo which was buried with bags of money under her body. Aleckson and Dawes plunge into the investigation that takes them into the world of human smugglers and traffickers, unexpectedly close to home. All the while, they are working to uncover the identity of someone who is leaving Corky anonymous messages and pulling pranks at her house. A Death in Lionel’s Woods is an unpredictable roller coaster ride to the electrifying end.
Secret in Whitetail Lake The discovery of an old Dodge Charger on the bottom of a Winnebago County lake turns into a homicide investigation when human remains are found in the car. To make matters worse, Sheriff Twardy disappears that same day, leaving everyone to wonder where he went. Sergeant Corinne Aleckson and Detective Elton Dawes probe into both mysteries, searching for answers. Little do they know they’re being closely watched by the keeper of the Secret in Whitetail Lake.
Firesetter in Blackwood Township Barns are burning in Blackwood Township, and the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Office realizes they have a firesetter to flush out. The investigation ramps up when a body is found in one of the barns. Meanwhile, deputies are getting disturbing deliveries. Why are they being targeted? It leaves Sergeant Corinne Aleckson and Detective Elton Dawes to wonder, what is the firesetter’s message and motive?
Murder in Winnebago County Page 25
