by VC Angell
For the Love of a Woman
By
VC Angell
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Add ons
Link to author’s website
Chapter 1
Jim Waterman stuck out his hand, “I was told that you wanted to see me, sheriff.”
“I’m sorry about your brother Alex,” Sheriff Larsen said.
“Thanks, I was just over at the undertaker’s.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you stopped by. Why don’t you have a seat,” the sheriff pointed at a chair.
Jim sat down and looked at the sheriff, “What’s this all about?”
“I believe the hunting accident wasn’t an accident. I think your brother was killed because of what he put in the paper. It upset some people. I wanted to see you because I want a full autopsy done. If you just go ahead and bury him, his death will be ruled a hunting accident. I won’t go into all the rigmarole of the law. I suspect it came about because it was automatically called a hunting accident if you find someone shot to death in the woods during hunting season. To do an autopsy, you, the next of kin, will have to request it.”
Jim paused for a moment, “What makes you think it was not an accident?”
The sheriff ran his hands over his graying hair, “I’ve seen my share of hunting accidents. Your brother was found in a stand of hardwoods, so there were leaves on the ground. We had a wet spell just before the deer season opened, so the ground was soft. It was windy a day, and some of the leaves had blown away. The whole area was trampled before I got there, but there were drag marks just up to your brother’s shoes. And that didn’t make sense either. Nobody wears dress shoes to hunt. He had on blaze orange, but the rest of his clothing wasn’t that of a hunter either. He had no rifle. What can you tell me about your brother?”
“My brother was 23 years older than me. He was the son of my father’s first wife. He was an adult when I came along. He was more like a second father to me, but I don’t remember Alex being a hunter. He loved to fish, and that was about his only outdoor sport.”
“I remember him writing pieces about fishing in the paper. You’re right. I don’t remember anything about hunting.”
Jim looked at the sheriff, “You’ve got me curious. I’ll agree to an autopsy. What about his wife? Shouldn’t she have a say?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“They divorced. It happened quickly. It was final less than a month before your brother died.”
Jim sat stunned for a moment, “No, I have been overseas on assignment. I just got back. We had no real way to communicate regularly.”
The sheriff reached for something on his desk, “I’ve got the paperwork right here for you to sign.” The sheriff started to search over his desk for something else, “Damn, I can never find a pen when I want one.”
Jim pulled a pen from his pocket, “Here, we can use mine.”
“You come equipped,” the sheriff quipped.
“I’m in the newspaper business. Just a reporter, but you never know when you might need pen and paper,” Jim reached into his coat pocket once more and pulled out a small notebook.
The sheriff showed Jim where to sign. He called in a deputy and told him to take a copy over to the undertakers. Then he turned back to Jim, “The autopsy will have to be done in the cities because we don’t have the experts up here in the north. The cause of death is obvious, but you never know what else might turn up.”
“You have any idea how long it’ll take?”
“The autopsy won’t take very long, but the toxicology report may take a month or more. Will you be able to stay around for that long?”
“Yes, I have to stick around. I resigned from my current job because I’ve got to run the newspaper. It’s a family newspaper arranged so that the newspaper would come to me, but his wife gets the rest of his estate. I know he also had life insurance policies too. That should help her money-wise,” Jim said.
“I knew about the life insurance policies because she told me about them. He had other insurance, so the mortgage on the house will be paid off. I guess the rest is for immediate expenses with enough left over for other things. Maybe the kids? Strangely, he’d do that with the divorce and all. I guess your brother either didn’t have a chance to change them or felt responsible for the kids.”
Jim looked surprised and asked, “You don’t think she had anything to do with this?”
“No, no, I’ve known Sally since we were in school together. I was the one that told her the bad news. The way she broke down made it plain to me this was a real shock to her. After she calmed down, she told me about the divorce.” The sheriff shook his head.
They continued to chat about Jim’s plans and the newspaper, The Spruce Journal. Jim excused himself, telling the sheriff that he had to start looking for a place to live. He didn’t want to continue to live out of the motel.
* * *
Across town Ted Erickson was talking to his daughter Pam, “I invited Jim Waterman for Thanksgiving with us. His only family was killed in that hunting accident, and I thought we could be neighborly.”
Pam asked, “What does that have to do with me?”
“I figure you can get friendly with him. He wouldn’t be a bad catch, particularly since it is the second time around for you. His family’s got money owning the Spruce Journal and all.”
“I know you too well, dad. What are you up to?”
“I figured if you got to know him, you could find out what he’s planning to do.”
“I knew you weren’t interested in my love life and that you’re up to something. What’s in it for me?”
* * *
After Jim left the sheriff’s office, he made his way to the Lakes Real Estate Office. It was one of just two real estate firms in town. The building was small and appeared to have only a couple of rooms plus the bathroom. It must’ve been a house at one point in its life. The door had a bell that jingled happily when Jim entered.
A woman looked up from the desk, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m coming back and need a place to live,” Jim said.
“You’ve come to the right place,” the woman stood up and offered to shake Jim’s hand, saying, “I’m Carol Amundson. Please call me Carol.”
“I’m Jim Waterman. I have been living and working overseas.” He paused a moment, undecided what to tell the woman, “My brother was killed in a hunting accident.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Your brother ran the newspaper, did he? I run weekly ads there.”
“Yes.”
“You are a lot younger than he was?”
Jim found himself repeating a line he had often used since returning to town, “I am 23 years younger than he was.” He went on then to explain about his father marrying twice and being from the second marriage.
“That’s a big gap. My brother and I are only two years apart. What exactly are you looking for?” Carol asked, smiling at Jim.
Jim was so taken with her smile and bright blue eyes he didn’t answer for a moment. “I’m not sure. I know I don’t need anything with twelve bathrooms and fourteen bedrooms.”
“I’m glad of that because I don’t have anything matching that description,” Carol laughed then said, “I suggest we get a cup of coffee and sit do
wn and go over some properties.”
Jim watched as Carol moved towards a small table on one side of the room. He got up and followed her, trying to be polite.
Carol turned and smiled, “The coffee is fresh. I just made this pot. All I’ve got are the powdered creamers. There’s a plain one and a chocolate one. Be careful with the chocolate one as it’s quite sweet. If you use too much, it will taste like you’re drinking cocoa and not coffee.”
“I think I’ll stick with black.
Carol went through several properties with Jim. Together they picked out three to look at. “When would you like to look at them?” Carol asked.
“I have to get over to the paper next. Today is Tuesday, and it comes out Thursday. Damn, that’s Thanksgiving. They’ve already taken care of one issue without anybody around. I just need to get over there and do some cheerleading. From the brief visit I had there, I know my brother’s death was a great shock to them. I’ve also got to stop and see his wife, Sally, again. Would tomorrow be too soon to look at them?”
“No, it’s a slow time here with the holidays coming on. Plus, few people buy in the winter. When would you like to get together?” Carol smiled again.
Carol’s smile was intoxicating. “How about midmorning? I don’t think the owners would want us traipsing around at 7 AM.”
Carol laughed, “I wouldn’t, either. I’m not a morning person. It’s about all I can do to stock up on my coffee first thing in the morning and get here to the office by 9 AM.”
“How about 10:30 then?”
Carol agreed, and Jim thanked her for the coffee before leaving.
* * *
When Jim arrived at the Journal offices, he went directly to Helen. She had been his brother’s secretary for many years. After a brief discussion about how things were going for the upcoming edition, Jim asked, “Do you know of any enemies my brother had?”
Helen frowned and paused before saying, “I don’t know much about his personal life. Now and then, we’d get an angry letter from a subscriber, but it was usually about a missing paper.”
Jim asked, “What do you know about his divorce?”
“It was a real surprise to me. That’s all I know.”
“How is the upcoming edition doing?”
Helen shook her head, “I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask the acting editor, Will Jensen.”
Jim didn’t say anything, but it was clear Helen didn’t want to share anything with him, so he said, “I guess I ought to talk with him. Would you ask him to come and see me, please?”
Helen seemed relieved as she hurried out of the office.
Will Jensen looked to be about Jim’s age. He was dressed casually, as most of the staff were with a Paul Bunyan plaid shirt and tan slacks.
“I was just talking to Helen about the upcoming edition. She didn’t seem to know anything about it,” Jim said.
“May I be frank?” Will asked.
An instant funny reply popped into Jim’s head – you prefer Frank to Will – but instead, he smiled and said, “Sure, by all means.”
“It’s not been a good time for the newspaper business, as I’m sure you’re aware. We didn’t know if you were going to sell the paper and go back to the big city or if you’re going to make wholesale changes,” Will sat down in the chair opposite the desk.
“I only know one thing now. This paper has been in my family for three generations. I am not about to sell it. The paper seems to be functioning well from all I can see. You got out an edition last week without my brother, so I can’t see any reason to change anything. I’m going to rely upon you to tell me what needs to be done until I get my feet under me,” Jim said.
Will visibly relaxed, “That’s a relief.”
“Do you think we should call the staff together and tell them nothing is changing?”
“It’s just my opinion, but I think it would be a good thing to do.”
“Let’s do it right now,” Jim said.
After everyone got together in the newsroom, Jim told them of his plans for the paper. He told them that he would need guidance from them until he got his feet on the ground. He hadn’t run a newspaper. He had been a crime-beat reporter on one newspaper and a foreign correspondent on another one. He had nothing to do with the daily running of any newspaper. Jim noticed everyone seemed to relax as Will had done. Jim asked if there were any questions.
One of the men in the group asked, “Does that mean we’ll all get a raise for helping you run the Journal?” With a giant smile on his face.
Jim answered with another smile, “I can’t make any promises because I know nothing about the finances of the newspaper. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you?”
“No, I was just joking around. It’s been pretty tense around here since your brother passed,” the man said.
A woman raised her hand, “When is your brother’s funeral going to be?”
“I don’t know because the sheriff asked to have an autopsy on my brother. The funeral will have to wait until it’s done.”
Will said, “That’s news. Can we report it?”
“Absolutely! From what I understand from the sheriff, it’s to make sure all the I’s are dotted and the T’s crossed. You can quote me on that. A question can it get into the next issue?”
“It sure can. We aren’t putting the issue to bed until later today, with Thanksgiving being the normal day it would come out. We’ll need a photo of you to go with it. Joe, grab your camera. That’s if you don’t mind, sir?”
“It sounds like what any good paper would do.”
The man who had joked about the possibility of getting a raise left to get his camera. Will asked, “Do you want to write an editorial introducing yourself? Or being interviewed?”
“Why don’t we do both?”
Many smiles greeted that, and Will said, “Julie, why don’t you do the interview. Your personal stories are always a hit.”
Jim said, “Now that’s settled. Any more questions?”
There were none.
“I have two more things to say. I will learn your names as quickly as I can. If I make a mistake, please let me know. If there are any problems, let me know. I’m not sure I can solve all the problems, but I’ll make my best attempt, and if need be, I’ll get help. Let’s get back to work and get the next edition out on time.”
Joe took a picture of Jim and Will together. It was clear to Jim that Joe had a wicked sense of humor. His next task was to sit down with Julie. Jim was very pleased because the questions she asked were concise and revealing. After the interview, Jim asked her about herself and her family. He found out she was married and had three children. They were a lot older than Jim thought was possible. He said, “The way you look, you must have had your children when you were still in grade school.”
Julie blushed, “I was twenty when I got married. I’ve always looked young. When I’d go to a bar, I kept getting carded until a few years ago.”
“It’s not polite to ask your age, so let me tell you that you still look very youthful.”
“Thank you. I should go get this typed up, so it’s ready for copyediting.”
Jim chatted with Will for a few minutes about the paper’s next issue. Then he excused himself to see Sally.
* * *
The drive to his brother’s and Sally’s house was a short one. It was in the older part of town where people of wealth had once lived. His brother had bought a house built in the early 1900s by a lumber baron. It was probably the wealthiest house in town in its day. It was a brick house with turrets looking like they had come from some castle. Sally greeted him at the door and led him to the living room.
“How are you doing?” Jim asked.
“Okay, I guess. When are you planning the funeral?”
“I’m not sure because the sheriff wanted me to authorize an autopsy. It should probably be pretty quick. Maybe just a delay of a week or two.”
“I know the sheriff asked me the same thing, but because o
f the divorce, I couldn’t authorize it,” Sally said.
“I don’t understand the divorce. What happened? Why did you get divorced?”
Sally looked pained. She looked older, almost defeated, “Please don’t ask. It was just necessary.”
Jim was puzzled, but he had always respected Sally, so he didn’t push. “How are your two children holding up?”
“They are both away at college. Robert is at the University of Minnesota in his senior year. Linda is in her second year at the University of Indiana Bloomington.” Sally paused, “Why am I telling you this? You know that both are in college.”
Jim felt the need to help her but couldn’t figure out how to do it. She had been like a second mother to him. Maybe changing the subject, he asked, “Are they planning to come home for Thanksgiving?”
“No, their semesters will end in December, so they hadn’t planned on coming home until then. Robert will spend Thanksgiving at his girlfriend’s home to meet her parents. They are planning to get married after he graduates and gets settled. Linda is planning to stay where she is and work at one of the soup kitchens in Bloomington. It’ll help fulfill one of the requirements in some class.”
Jim looked at Sally, unsure of what to say next. She was wearing a floral dress he could remember from past visits. She looked older than he could ever remember seeing her. Something had gone on, but he felt he couldn’t pry. He felt rather useless. “I just wanted to stop by and see if you need anything.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it, but I’m rather numb. Karen’s been a real blessing. Too, too many things have happened all close together,” Sally seemed on the verge of tears.
Jim excused himself and left.
Jim spent the rest of the afternoon writing his editorial introducing himself to the readers of the Journal in his motel room. He emailed it to the address Will had given him.
* * *
The following day at the Journal, he talked briefly with Will. He also had to reassure Helen she would remain as his secretary. It was fast approaching 10:30 and his appointment with Carol. He had to hurry to make it on time.
They took Carol’s car. When they drove up to the first house, Jim said, “It’s a two over three.”