Firesetter in Blackwood Township, a Winnebago County Mystery

by Christine Husom

  “The four of you?” Mother said.

  “That we know of, but there might be more.”

  “Oh dear,” Mother said.

  “Did the sheriff shut down someone’s commercial rabbit operation?” John Carl said.

  Had he? “Not that I can recall. But there have been issues with farmers and animal complaints over the years. We’ll do some research. But now I gotta get ready for work.”

  “Corinne, surely Denny will give you the day off. You have weeks and weeks of sick time coming.”

  “I’m not working my usual shift. I’m assisting Smoke on this case. I need to be here.”

  Mother sniffled. I gave her a quick, tight hug then took off before she started crying. I’d be done in by that.

  It would have saved me a minute or two if I’d asked John Carl for a ride but running helped me focus and process information. Whoever left the strange rabbit campfire scene in the barn was no doubt the same person who’d left the rabbit on my doorstep. So that begged the question, was a female committing the crimes? Setting fires and making disturbing deliveries? Could she be acting alone or did she have an accomplice? Fire setting was more common among males than among females. So maybe it was a female helping a male.

  When I heard Queenie barking I remembered I’d left her alone in the house, something I only did for short periods of time now and then. She licked my hand when I opened the door.

  “It must have been way too loud for you with all those sirens.” I rubbed her neck. “There are more weird things happening here in Blackwood Township, and I need to go to work.” Queenie followed me into the kitchen and waited while I drank a glass of water and started a pot of coffee. “It’s kennel time for you, my dear.”

  When she was situated, I got ready, filled two large travel mugs with coffee then stuck four bottles of water and two granola bars in an insulated, soft-sided lunch cooler. As I climbed into my squad car, I set the mugs in cup holders and the cooler on the seat next to my briefcase. I backed out of the garage then pushed the talk button on the sheriff’s band radio. “Six oh eight to Winnebago County.”

  “Go ahead, Six oh eight.”

  “I’m ten-eight with unit four twenty.”

  “You’re ten-eight at seven fourteen.”

  I pulled up in front of my grandparents’ house and parked on the township road. Sara’s car and another one I didn’t recognize were parked behind John Carl’s. I phoned in my location to Communications, gathered the coffees and treats, and got out. Sergeant Roth was in his squad car talking on the phone, and I nodded at him as I walked by. Mother, John Carl, Sara, and David Fryor were all gathered on my grandparents’ back steps observing what they could from there. They had a limited view, nothing much past the southeast corner of the barn.

  Seven fifteen in the morning and Mother and John Carl already had their support team by their sides. I stopped to say hello.

  “Morning, Sara, David.”

  Sara crossed her hands on her chest. “I’m so sorry, Corky.”

  “That goes for me too. What a shock,” David said.

  “Thanks.” That’s all I could manage.

  “Corky, you look professional today,” John Carl said.

  “I’m supposed to look professional every day.”

  “I should have said you look like a police detective.”

  “Oh.” I was wearing an elbow-length white cotton shirt—buttoned to the second from the top button, thank you very much—and pleated gray pants. Poor guy was trying to give me a compliment, so I held back my smart comment and smiled instead. “Well, I got some detective work to do.”

  Mother had tears in her eyes, and I knew from her smile they were her motherly-pride tears. She regularly fought the dueling battle of being fearful for me and being proud of me. Smoke came around the corner from behind the barn, and I handed him a mug of coffee. “Thanks.” He waved at Mother and company then we made our way back to the scene. “My, my, my. Should I be surprised to see Sara Speiss and David Fryor with your mother and brother so bright and early?” he said.

  “It caught me a little off-guard, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  Amanda Zubinski and Vince Weber had the Major Crimes duties for the day, and they drove the mobile unit to the south side of the barn and parked. Smoke and I were standing in front of the open barn doors, and he waved them over when they got out. Roth fell in behind, and the five of us formed a semi-circle to examine the scene. Weber shot me a quick glance and raised his eyebrows in a way that signaled this officially let Darcie off the hook.

  “That is one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. Anyone have a clue what it means?” Zubinski said.

  “I think it’s safe to say that none of us do.” Smoke held up his phone. “I sent photos to Emmet Chapman, our area investigator with the State Fire Marshal’s office, so we’ll see if he has any ideas.”

  “It holds some kind of meaning for the person who built it,” I said.

  “Yep.” Smoke said.

  “That’s the obvious part, and you gotta wonder what crazy purpose a crazy person would have,” Weber said.

  “Let’s hope we find him so we can ask him. Or her. I got the impression the person who delivered Corky’s rabbit was a female. We may have a couple, a team, working on these antics together. We’ll find out.

  “In the meantime, grab some of your bright lights to illuminate the scene. Let’s get our protective gear on and see if they left any evidence behind. For a change,” Smoke said.

  29

  Belle and Birdie

  “Birdie, I think we’ve been very clever this time. The clues are all there, so we’ll see if they can figure them out.”

  Birdie looked at Belle, and her mouth lifted in a small winsome smile.

  “Birdie, I don’t know how you manage to stay so sweet and look so innocent in all this. Basic nature, or not. We’ve been involved in a lot of major happenings around here lately.”

  Birdie put her head on Belle’s shoulder, and all of Belle’s concerns evaporated like water on a sweltering day.

  30

  Word about the bizarre campfire in my grandparents’ barn traveled through the sheriff’s office, and a number of deputies stopped by to have a look. It was curious Sheriff Twardy wasn’t one of them, given our relationship. But on second thought it shouldn’t have surprised me, given our relationship.

  When our team was dressed and ready, we stood at the barn’s back entrance for a last look before going in. My watering efforts had done little more than dampen a limited area on the barn floor, not reaching as far as the campfire or the bunnies. The five of us moved in slowly, eyeing every inch of ground in and around the scene.

  “The dirt floor has been somewhat disturbed but not enough to capture even a single good print,” Smoke said.

  “It’s so packed down it’s almost like concrete,” I said.

  “Yeah. So why is it some of these barns have concrete floors, some have wood, and others are dirt?” Weber said.

  “It depends on their age, when they were built, and what the owners wanted or could afford. In my grandparents’ case, it was this way when they bought the farm. They built the wooden walkways but didn’t feel the need to do anything else,” I said.

  “Ah, makes sense. It’s one of those dumb things I’ve thought about once in a while and never thought to ask,” Weber said.

  “The thing is, whoever set up this deal must have known the Alecksons had a dirt floor,” Smoke said.

  The little hairs on the back of my neck awakened and stood at attention. Of course. They’d brought in rocks and kindling and half-grown dead rabbits. It took planning, and the dirt floor would have been the first item on the list for consideration.

  Sergeant Roth got called out on a report of theft and carefully made his way out of the barn to respond.

  “So Sergeant, Detective, this has gotta be somehow connected to the rabbits that got left on our doorsteps,” Weber said.

  “Gotta be,�
�� Smoke agreed.

  “Yeah, what was that all about? That email you sent out yesterday, Detective?” Zubinski said. I wondered if Vince had said anything to her about Darcie yet.

  “Someone has been delivering them to our cops. We don’t know why. We did get a video of someone in a beekeeper outfit dropping one off for Corky here,” Smoke said.

  When she frowned, I said, “Vince can tell you all about it, Mandy.”

  “Yeah, ’cause I got the first one. Or it could’ve been Mason because it was about the same time. Then Corky, then Detective Dawes,” Weber said.

  “So I started wondering if others got one, too. That’s how we found out about Mason,” Smoke said.

  “Why didn’t you say anything, Vince?” Zubinski said.

  “No good reason I guess,” he said.

  “We need to figure out if the four of us were on a case together that was somehow related to rabbits. When I told my brother about it, he asked if the sheriff had shut down a commercial rabbit operation,” I said.

  “That’s a valid theory, but I can’t think of a one in my time here,” Smoke said.

  “My apartment manager would freak out if I got one. Maybe I would too,” Zubinski said.

  “Let’s hope it ends here, Mandy. Then you won’t have to worry about it,” I said.

  The crime scene team photographed the staged campfire from all sides, and Smoke did a slow walk around the inside walls of the barn and then along the wooden walkways, past the stanchions where my grandparents had once milked cows. He stopped and looked into the now-empty stalls where animals had slept.

  I was off my game and watched as the others performed the investigative tasks, letting my mind go back to memories from my childhood instead: helping my grandparents on the farm, doing the many chores I loved. At that moment in time it seemed like my memories were all dreams. The whole world was atilt, and it felt like I’d fall off if I didn’t hold on tight.

  I pulled out my phone and called John Carl. “Are you and Mother still here?”

  “Yeah, but we’re about to take off. Mom needs to get ready for work.”

  “Sure. I’m checking to see if you called our grandparents.”

  “No, I wasn’t sure what the protocol was on that,” he said.

  “Let’s let it ride for now. They need to know, but I’ll talk to them later, after we wrap up here.”

  “Okay, I’ll let Mom know.”

  After we’d hung up, I examined the spent campfire again and the rocks around it. At first I thought it was my imagination, but when I squatted down and looked closer I realized three of the rocks were ones I had among the bushes by the side of my house. I’d picked them out of the rock pile at my mother’s farm. The one Gramps had built up with all the rocks he’d pulled out of his fields over the years.

  “Smoke, come here.”

  He was there in a second. “What? What do you see?”

  Weber and Zubinski came over too.

  “At least three of these rocks are from my place, my garden.”

  Weber looked at me like a third eye had sprouted between the other two. Zubinski studied the rocks like she was trying to pick out the differences.

  “Say what?” Smoke said.

  “I had them in with the hydrangea bushes on the south side of the house,” I said.

  “Ah, geez, how would you know that?” Weber said.

  “I handpicked them because I thought they were cool.” I pointed to each one.

  Weber shrugged. “They’re all right as rocks go, I suppose.”

  Zubinski used her elbow to give his bicep a nudge. “But the question is, how did they get here?” she said.

  Smoke pushed out a loud breath. “Think you caught the culprits on your video camera?” Then he smiled. “That could break our case.”

  “I hate to be doubtful, but it depends on which direction they came from. If they came down the driveway, yes. If they came from the back forty, yes. If they came from the north, yes, because they’d have to walk by the front door. If they came in directly from the south then maybe not.”

  “Vince and Mandy, we’ll need to process the rocks anyway, so I’d like you to put flags with numbers on ’em, and get a good shot of each one. In case somebody else has Corky’s keen powers of observation and notices rocks from their landscaping décor are missing. We can return ’em to them.”

  A skeptical look briefly crossed Weber’s face. “Okay, how many we got here?” He pointed as he counted. “A nice little circle of twenty-eight, huh?”

  As he was counting, I noticed one on the other side looked familiar, too. “There’s another one of mine.” I indicated it with my finger.

  “Do you want to keep looking, see if you can pick out more?” Zubinski said.

  “No. They could have gotten more from my property, but it doesn’t matter. I just hope we got the thieves going about their dastardly deeds on camera,” I said.

  “That would be sweet. And tell you what—by the time the property techs check ’em for trace evidence and finally release ’em, you’ll have time to see if you’re missing any others in your garden.” Weber was being considerate, given the troubling circumstances and kept his wise-guy cracks to himself.

  “I’m going to take a look at what Corky’s cameras captured. We’ll leave you two to carry on, but holler if you need me,” Smoke said.

  “With you being about a stone’s throw away, hollering will probably work, too,” Weber quipped.

  Zubinski followed Smoke and me out and then headed to the mobile unit for more supplies. Mother and John Carl had left at some point. I found the insulated cooler with the water and treats on a bench where I’d set it earlier. I opened it and handed a granola bar to Smoke, tore one open for myself, and ate it on the way to the car. “I’ll let Communications know we’re clearing the scene,” Smoke said as we climbed into our separate vehicles.

  He pulled into the driveway behind me. “I need to look at my hydrangea garden, check if anything else is missing. See what you can pull up on my computer.” I opened the garage door, and Smoke let himself into the house. I went around to the south side and visually scanned the garden. The four missing rocks were the only disturbance I observed. I’d watered the bushes on Friday and would have noticed if they were gone. I looked at the lawn around the area, but there weren’t any signs that a vehicle had driven on it. The grass was browning, but intact.

  Queenie was more than ready to get out of her kennel when I opened her door. “Run off your energy and come to the door when you’re done,” I told her.

  Smoke was in the den remotely accessing the video data on the computer. “Any other rocks missing from your garden?”

  “Nope.”

  “Queenie sounds energized,” he said.

  “Getting let out in the middle of my workday is a special treat.”

  Smoke smiled. “No doubt. Have you looked at any video since the rabbit incident?”

  “No. And that would’ve been Monday the fourteenth. I watered the bushes on the eighteenth, and if the rocks hadn’t been there, I would have seen the holes.”

  “Okay. And what time was that?”

  “Right around six p.m.”

  “Let’s see what we can find.” He went back to that date and time and ran through the footage. I was the one who triggered the camera most often since then. Of course. My mother, David Fryor, and Smoke were there on Sunday. Not a suspect among them. The suspect, trespasser, and rock thief, did not appear on any video from Friday night at six p.m., through the overnight hours of Sunday into Monday.

  I shook my head. “Now I need cameras on the sides of my house, too? I’ve been wondering how they hauled those rocks. I didn’t see any evidence that they used a cart, so it would take either two people or one making two trips. At least. The rocks aren’t that big but they have some weight. My guesstimate is they each weighed between three and eight pounds.”

  “A fair amount of weight to carry. Without a cart an individual would have needed s
ome type of carrying case, maybe a backpack. Not to mention being very cunning, coming in from the south side to avoid getting picked up by the motion-detection camera.”

  A crawling sensation up my back to my shoulders made me reach back to try to rub it away. “We figured the person who left the rabbit on my step in broad daylight knew the cameras were there and that she’d be captured on video. Is that part of the game?”

  “Makes you wonder. Couldn’t avoid detection going to your steps but was clever enough to pull it off the second time. Aside from that small grassy strip on the south side, you got cornfields on both the north and south sides of your house this year. Makes for good cover,” Smoke said.

  “Good cover for bad people.” I watched the monitor as Smoke scanned through the videos then returned to review the beekeeper creeper one. “Smoke, we haven’t talked about the core issues here, the whys. Why are we getting dead rabbits, why would someone steal rocks from my house and use them to build a campfire circle in my grandparents’ barn? We figure it’s a woman, right? Did she get the idea from the three barn fires, or is she the firesetter? Someone who delivers dead rabbits and sets barns on fire?”

  “Similar questions have been jumping around in my brain all morning. I got a rabbit too, but as far as the rocks go, I wouldn’t have a clue if any were stolen rocks from my property.” Then he raised his eyebrows up and down a couple of times and grinned. “I haven’t picked out any particular ones for my landscaping design, however.”

  Despite the gravity of everything we were dealing with, his smile made me feel better. “I better go check on Queenie.” I found her sitting on the deck, watching the world go by. “Want to come in and cool off for a while, girl?” She yipped then ran in the house and found Smoke within seconds.

  He petted her then stood up. “Queenie, you’re reminding me I left my own dog when I dashed out this morning. I need to go take care of good old Rex and change into respectable clothes before I get back to work.”

  “I have to say, I’ve never seen you in jogging pants before. They suit you,” I said with a smirk.