Oscawana

by Frank Martin

  What did she have to be so upset about? Sheriff Thompson had a feeling the answer to that question would provide a lot of insight, and he just couldn’t wait to ask her it himself.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After being pulled from the water, Sheriff Thompson spent the better part of an hour managing a rather stressful, multi-faceted salvage operation. He felt odd delegating in a pair of mesh basketball shorts and a Police Athletic League t-shirt, but it was the only set of dry clothes anyone had on hand. Despite the Sheriff’s self-consciousness, nobody seemed to mind taking orders from him. Like a well-oiled machine, the clean-up consisted of one crew collecting debris while another focused on pulling the Sheriff’s capsized boat from the lake. Neither of them found any sign of Paul Dutchman though, his body or otherwise.

  Once everything was running smoothly, Sheriff Thompson felt comfortable enough to slip away for a visit to the Dutchman household. Paul’s wife, Susan, answered the door with two streaks of tear-ridden mascara running down her cheeks. She must’ve seen or heard the crash and already knew that her husband was gone. A part of Sheriff Thompson was relieved he didn’t have to break the news to her. He had, on more than one occasion, informed family members that their loved ones had died unexpectedly. It never got any easier, and although he felt guilty for thinking it, Paul’s very loud and public death spared him the trouble of going through that again.

  Sheriff Thompson didn’t have to say any words. Susan fell forward into his arms, sobbing hysterically as if he’d just told her what happened. He knew Paul and Susan weren’t on the best of terms. They fought constantly, sometimes so loud the neighbors called him to stop by and break it up. Still, being angry with your spouse and not caring if they died were two different things. Especially when it happened right outside your window.

  The Sheriff thought about giving her an update on the clean-up but decided against it. That wasn’t what the widow wanted to hear at the moment. Sheriff Thompson offered her his condolences instead and realized he’d lied to himself when she opened the door. Not being the one to tell her the devastating news didn’t make facing her any easier.

  They didn’t talk much, but Sheriff Thompson stayed with Susan as long as he could. It was difficult for him to leave her alone like that, but he was just too distracted to stay. He wanted to talk to April even before the crash. Now, after everything that happened, questioning the girl was a must.

  When he eventually arrived at the Hawkins’ household, Sheriff Thompson decided to bypass the main house entirely. He had enough of Henry for one day, and, technically, the uncle had already given his permission for the Sheriff to talk to April.

  Sheriff Thompson stayed on the walkway that wrapped around into the backyard. When he didn’t see either teenager playing in the grass, the Sheriff followed the path as it veered down towards the guesthouse. Before he made it too far though, the sound of a sliding glass door whished above his head. The Sheriff groaned as soon as he heard it, already annoyed that he knew who it was. The sound was followed by the tap of footsteps against the wooden porch, and the Sheriff looked up to find Henry leaning over the railing.

  “Sheriff,” he said in frightened shock. “What the hell happened out there?”

  “Wish I had the answer,” Sheriff Thompson replied, returning his gaze to the walkway.

  He continued on the path down the hill and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Henry hurried down the stairs after him.

  “You don’t know why Paul Dutchman crashed?” Henry asked, his question muffled by rapid patter as he descended the steps.

  It wasn’t until Henry reached the ground and jogged to catch up that Sheriff Thompson noticed the lime green rubber sandals that were making all that noise.

  “No idea,” the Sheriff said, trying not to roll his eyes at the man’s footwear. “They’re pulling his plane out of the water now. What’s left of it, at least. Maybe that will give us some idea how he went down.”

  “What about your boat and that wave?” Henry questioned while walking alongside him. “That kind of stuff doesn’t usually happen around here, right?”

  Sheriff Thompson kept his eyes ahead, focused squarely on the guesthouse at the bottom of the path. “No. Not usually.”

  Although his legs were moving ahead, Henry pivoted his upper body to face the Sheriff as they continued to walk side by side. “You think it’s all related?”

  “Henry,” Sheriff Thompson snapped, stopping several feet from the house. “Just relax. I was about to question your niece when all this happened. I’d like to get a chance to do that now, if you don’t mind.”

  Henry took a step back and held his hands up, giving Sheriff Thompson the all clear. “Oh, yeah. Sure thing. Go right ahead.”

  The Sheriff huffed as he continued on his way and knocked on the guesthouse door. Through the window he saw April in the kitchen, and she looked up at the noise. Sheriff Thompson waved and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get one back. Instead, April disappeared deeper into the house. The lock clicked a moment later and the door opened up. April leaned on it, curiously eying her unexpected visitor.

  “Hi, April,” the Sheriff greeted her with another wave.

  April continued to leer at him, curious yet suspicious of his presence. “Hey, Sheriff Thompson.”

  The Sheriff leaned forward ever so slightly to peer around her into the house. “Where’s your brother?”

  She leaned forward as well, to look at the house up the hill. “Having ice cream at Henry’s, I think.”

  Although Sheriff Thompson was glad Mark wasn’t around, he didn’t know which detail he found stranger. The fact that April wasn’t up there with him, especially after the craziness of the afternoon, or that Henry left the boy alone to confront the Sheriff on his way down to the guesthouse.

  “Mind if I come in and we talk for a bit?” Sheriff Thompson asked, cordially.

  April shrugged while walking back into the house, leaving the door open for the Sheriff to join her. “About what?”

  Sheriff Thompson stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “You spoken to Brad this morning?”

  The door led right into a small dining room that opened into the kitchen. The only thing separating the two was a countertop that April walked around as she returned to where she was before. “No. I haven’t seen Brad since I saw him with you.”

  “So you don’t know if he found his friend?” Sheriff Thompson asked, focused on April’s face to gauge her reaction.

  She shook her head but remained silent, her eyes honed down at the countertop where the ingredients of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sat ready to be put together. It must’ve been what she was doing when the Sheriff arrived, yet for one reason or another, the girl decided not to resume the task.

  “What about plans for today?” the Sheriff asked. “Did he happen to mention something he was doing or some place he was going?”

  April shook her head again, this time looking up. “No. Why? Is he missing now, too?”

  Sheriff Thompson flashed her a wry smile, a show of bitterness to let the girl know the situation was serious yet also friendly enough not to overly alarm her. “I’m just trying to get in contact with him. That’s all.”

  April shrugged while mimicking the Sheriff’s expression. “Sorry. Wish I could help.”

  Since he arrived, Sheriff Thompson had been waiting to question April about what happened on the water. He couldn’t just probe her about it, though. It had to come up naturally, and she just gave him the perfect opening.

  “Well,” the Sheriff started, turning his half-smile into a full one, “you kind of already did help me.”

  April furrowed her brow, puzzled by the comment. “How so?”

  Sheriff Thompson kept his eyes on her yet pointed out the window in the general direction of the lake. “With that wave. It was about to barrel over me when you yelled for it to stop.”

  April hesitated a moment, as if she were processing the information, before giggling
off the praise. “I didn’t tell it to stop. I just yelled, hoping that it did.”

  It was a poor show of deflection, and the Sheriff took a step forward, closing the distance between them by leaning over the countertop. “Still. It was quite a coincidence, right? I swore I was a goner. I mean, that thing was right on top of me when you screamed and it just...went away. Kind of like it listened to you.”

  April laughed again, even harder this time, and finally started making the sandwich in front of her. “You're giving me way too much credit, Sheriff. I can’t control the water.”

  But what about something in the water?

  Sheriff Thompson only thought the question. Never asked it. He had to be careful how he pushed her. His tone needed to be inviting not accusatory. She was already avoiding eye contact and using the sandwich as a distraction. The last thing he needed was for her to shut down completely.

  “Is something on your mind?” he asked, while slowly walking around the counter.

  April looked up at him, shaking her head with a clueless pout. “No. Why? Should there be?”

  Sheriff Thompson stopped on the other side of the counter and squinted, curiously examining her face. “You look like you want to tell me something.”

  She stared right back and took a big bite out of her sandwich. “Nope.”

  It wasn’t uncommon for people to overcompensate when they were hiding something. April probably hoped that by staring the Sheriff in the eyes it would eliminate his suspicions, but the eyes aren’t where lies were kept. They rested throughout the entire face, and April was quite clearly trying to distort hers by chewing like a savage.

  Sheriff Thompson watched her a bit longer, his eyes soft and concerned rather than mistrustful. He then let out a deep sigh and began his final plea for her to open up.

  “You can talk to me, though,” the Sheriff started, relaxed and genuine, “if you need to. I know teens aren’t really big on cops, but if there’s something you think I should know…something you feel is important…you can always tell me. There’s been a lot of weird stuff going on here lately and I could use your help with it.”

  After she swallowed, April formed an expression Sheriff Thompson wasn’t exactly expecting. She looked torn, her eyes shifting back and forth between the sides of his face. There was a debate going on inside her head, yet April appeared to be wrestling not just with the question of if she should speak…but of what she should say. There seemed to be more weighing on this girl’s shoulders than the Sheriff realized, and he began wondering if the two of them were even having the same conversation at all.

  Ultimately, nothing came out of it. April sucked in a breath of air to puff up her chest and the steadfast look of denial returned. “I don’t know what you think I’m hiding but that’s not the case, Sheriff.”

  The conversation stalled, which only added to the rising tension. Sheriff Thompson continued to assess April’s reaction, but her eyes grew sharper as if she were doing the same, sizing the Sheriff up, trying to discern exactly what he was getting at.

  The moment ended when the door creaked open and Henry poked his head into the house with a smile. “Mind if I butt in?”

  Sheriff Thompson wanted to be agitated by the interruption, but he was getting nowhere with April fast and was kind of grateful for the break. “Actually, I was just getting ready to leave.”

  Henry stepped inside completely and shut the door with his eyes firmly locked ahead. “So, what you guys talking about?”

  “Just asking her about those boys she knew,” the Sheriff replied, walking back around the counter.

  He crossed paths with Henry, who also walked around the counter to take over the position where the Sheriff once stood. “Hope they’re not getting her into too much trouble. We love April a lot. Wouldn’t want her falling into the wrong—”

  He reached over to put a hand around his niece’s shoulder when she backed away screaming at the top of her lungs. “Don’t touch me!”

  The violent shriek shot through the room like a bolt of lightning, startling everyone, including April herself. She yelled so loud her body trembled in place. Her wide eyes stared at the floor, terrified yet filled with hate.

  Sheriff Thompson was so caught off guard he didn’t know what to say. He was struck speechless, as was Henry, who stared at his niece with an equal display of dismay.

  April’s body grew heavy, rising and falling as one with every dense breath. It took her a moment to realize what just happened, and she looked up apologetically at the two baffled men before her. “I’m sorry. Just—Leave me alone. Please.”

  She stormed out of the kitchen, turned a corner, and headed upstairs. Her footsteps were hard and heavy as they ascended the steps, and Henry waited for the noise to die off before turning back to the Sheriff with a set of guilty giggles. “Sorry. I should’ve known better. She’s not really big on the touchy-feely stuff.”

  It was a rather weak response, and the Sheriff wasn’t buying it. He had a bad feeling about Henry since the day began. This only made things worse.

  And Henry must’ve felt the same way, for he was quick to follow up with a cordial smile. “Want me to show you out, Sheriff?”

  “I can manage,” Sheriff Thompson said, reaching for the door.

  He hurried outside and Henry rushed to follow him out. “All right. Have a great weekend!”

  The Sheriff didn’t respond. He continued to climb up the hill back to the driveway, all the while thinking he was more confused now than he was when he arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sheriff Thompson’s head buzzed the entire drive back to the station. It had already been a long, disastrous day that continued to go from bad to worse. If things weren’t already difficult enough, a thunderstorm was scheduled to roll in over the county around nightfall. Emergency crews were in a race for time to get Lake Oscawana cleaned up before the first sound of thunder.

  The Sheriff wanted to stay on site and help guide the effort, but there were too many nagging questions tugging on his mind. He had no choice but to leave and get them answered. Besides, there wasn’t much for him to do at the lake but get in the way. He just had to step back and have faith that his people would get the job done in time.

  If they did finish, which Sheriff Thompson believed they would, that meant he had to make a decision. Tomorrow would be Saturday. The start of the weekend and when the lake went from relatively docile to jam-packed with boats and families eager to enjoy a summer on the water. The lake might’ve been cleared of debris, but that didn’t mean it was safe.

  Given that it was a weekday, there weren’t too many people around to have eyes on the crash. Still, his officers went door to door, hoping to find a witness that could shed light on the exact reason why Dutchman’s plane went down. There weren’t any, but that did little to assuage the Sheriff’s concerns.

  There was definitely something else going on with the lake that made him nervous. Perhaps even something living in it that made the water dangerous. He had no proof other than the day’s events, but that certainly wasn’t enough to keep people from taking their boats out.

  It wasn’t until Sheriff Thompson pulled into the parking lot that he finally decided against formally shutting the lake down. To be honest, he didn’t even know what such a task entailed. Calling the county executive? The state? The federal government? It was a public body of water. What was he going to do if people disobeyed? Arrest them?

  The only real thing the Sheriff could do was issue a warning for people to stay off the water because of the crash and hope they listened. He doubted they would and planned to be in the area all weekend just in case.

  As crazy as it seemed though, a plane crash, capsized boat, and mysterious tsunami weren’t the things that bothered Sheriff Thompson the most. It was his brief interactions with Henry Hawkins and his family. In the span of a day, Henry went from being just another guy on the lake to someone of the utmost suspicion.

  Sheriff Thompson couldn’t q
uite make out what that was, and at first it was only a hunch. But the way April reacted to him only solidified the Sheriff’s opinion. Henry, as well as April, had something to hide. Whether or not that had anything to do with the events on the lake was another matter entirely, but it was definitely something Sheriff Thompson intended to get to the bottom of. In fact, he planned on devoting himself to the task until he could officially begin a missing persons investigation for Brad and his friend.

  The Sheriff started by searching for Henry’s name in every database he had access to. Strangely enough, he barely found any information on the man. It wasn’t just that Henry Hawkins had no criminal record. It was that he practically had no record at all. Almost as if the man just suddenly appeared out of thin air.

  Sheriff Thompson’s investigation didn’t stop there, though. His resources stretched further than that of your average small town cop. A couple of phone calls later and he learned that Hawkins wasn’t always Henry’s last name, which made sense. His niece and nephew, who were his sister’s kids, were also named Hawkins. Henry must’ve changed his last name to match his brother-in-law’s. But why?

  As the mystery grew deeper, the light patter of rain began to tap against the station windows. Dark storm clouds moved in to take the sun’s place, and it was only a matter of time before they opened up completely, unleashing torrential downpour across the valley.

  Sheriff Thompson texted his wife to let her know it was going to be a late night. After witnessing a plane crash and having his boat flip over, she was more than understanding. The Sheriff chose not to mention that he was investigating a separate matter entirely. At least, he didn’t think it was connected, and a part of him hoped it wasn’t, too.

  Everyone left for the night, hoping to get home before the worst of the storm came down. Sheriff Thompson said his goodbyes, warmed up a frozen chicken dinner, and dove right back into his search for the truth.