by Rick Polad
“What fell apart?”
He finished his coffee and said, “I think I’d better let them tell you that. Do you have time for a drive?”
“How long a drive?” I asked.
“They’re about fifteen minutes out on the edge of town.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
He stood. “We’ll take the squad car.”
We went out the side door and got in a silver car with a whip antenna and “Appleton Police” on the side with an emblem that included the red apple.
***
We chatted as we drove and learned that Joe had grown up in Appleton and Gretchen had come here ten years ago looking for a job. Both were schoolteachers.
The Freys’ place really wasn’t even on the edge of town. It was around a bend in the road from the last house. From their drive I couldn’t see any other houses. It was an old Victorian farmhouse that looked like it had been given lots of loving care. It was the last structure except for the arched, black iron entryway to the cemetery on the north side of the house. Beyond that were green fields and forest as far as I could see.
The chief pulled into the gravel drive and said, “They’re home. That’s their car in front of the garage.”
Gretchen answered the door with a smile for Chief and asked us all to come in. Joe walked into the front room while Chief was introducing us to Gretchen. She asked if we’d join them for dinner. We all thanked her but declined and asked if we could have a few minutes. She offered seats. Rosie and I took the couch. Chief sat in the rocker. The Freys sat on the love seat.
I looked around the room. Stairs were off to the left of the front door. Two exterior walls were covered with floral paper, and the inside walls were done in dark paneling with gas wall sconces hung on the wall that made up the side of the enclosed stairs. The ceiling was plaster with carved molding. Several pieces of period furniture were placed around the room.
“What’s this all about?” asked Joe with a worried look.
Rocking slowly, Chief said, “These two came in with a story that involves you two.” He looked toward Rosie. “Detective?”
Rosie once again told the story she had told to Chief Werth, starting with Stosh and my finding the envelopes. When she told about Mrs. Maxwell, Gretchen took her husband’s hand. Rosie finished with our chat with Chief Werth.
“That’s pretty disturbing,” said Mrs. Frey.
Joe let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulder. “Do you have any evidence tying the agency to the murders, or is this just a theory?”
I had sunk into the couch cushion and moved forward on the edge so I could sit up straight. “We have no evidence, but I’m not a believer in coincidence. I’m going to pay attention to the fact that two people involved with that agency are dead.”
Gretchen sighed and shook her head. “I’d rather we weren’t the next customers next door.” She pointed toward the cemetery.
Joe pulled her closer. “What do you think we should do, Chief?”
He stopped rocking. “I’d say just go on with life but be careful. Try not to go anywhere alone or be out late at night.”
“That’s an awful way to live,” Gretchen said.
“Yes,” I agreed. “But it’s a good way to stay alive.”
Chief started rocking again. “Joe, I told them you had some concerns about the agency. Tell them about that.”
Before he could start, Gretchen asked if anyone wanted coffee or something else to drink. We all declined.
Joe took his arm from around his wife and crossed his legs. “Everything was going fine. The process had taken almost a year, but we were happy with them and got a letter saying they had found a baby. We were thrilled. We got a phone call from Mrs. Peters telling us we should send a check for the balance.”
“Did you?” I asked.
“Yes, the next day.”
“How much was it?”
“Six thousand dollars.”
I nodded. That and the down payment was the same amount as Stosh’s payment. “Then what?”
“Well, about a month later we got a letter stating that there had been a problem. The birth mother had changed her mind and wanted to keep her baby.”
Gretchen was wringing her hands in her lap. “That was hard to take… we were so disappointed. But we were happy for the mother. We decided it was always best for a baby to be with its mother.”
I didn’t agree but said nothing. “So what was your concern?”
Gretchen explained. “The letter said that they would keep looking and would put us at the top of the list. It said they would refund our check if we wished, and we could write a new check when they found another baby. We decided to not get the refund, hoping it would be soon. Then a few weeks later we got another letter from the agency.” She took a deep breath and turned to Joe with a concerned look.
He looked at her with a frown and then turned to us. “That letter said that the birth mother was having trouble making ends meet and was struggling to keep her baby. It said they were associated with an organization called Single Mother Outreach and also had a house they used for single mothers having trouble. It asked us for a donation to go to the mother to help her get on her feet. The letter said the agency was helping and suggested, if we were interested in helping, that we set up a monthly payment plan for whatever amount we were comfortable with.”
Rosie and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
“What?” asked Chief, looking at me.
Rosie hadn’t included Stosh’s checks in the story. She nodded to me.
“There were nineteen canceled checks in Stosh’s envelope written every six months or so for ten years,” I said, “…made out to Single Mother Outreach.”
Joe and Gretchen looked puzzled. “So what the hell does that mean?” Joe asked. “What are the chances that would happen with two mothers?”
I shrugged. “I guess it’s possible, but, again, I’m not fond of coincidences.”
“So if it’s not a coincidence what the hell’s going on?” Joe asked.
Chief Werth replied. “There are all kinds of confidence scams out there. This may be one of them.”
“With babies?” Gretchen asked, incredulous. “With people’s hearts?”
“That’s the best kind for the scammer,” Chief said. “People part with money when their heart strings are tugged.”
“So what did you do?” Rosie asked.
Joe turned to us. “We talked with Yancy and decided to do nothing.”
“You didn’t ask for your down payment back?” Rosie asked.
Joe shook his head. “Not right away. We thought they were sincere. They had offered to return the down payment, so we didn’t suspect anything funny.”
“You said not right away,” Rosie said.
“Yes. After a month of not hearing anything from them, I called and asked Mrs. Peters if there were any possibilities. She said no, but they were trying. We talked it over and decided to stop for a while. It was too emotionally draining.”
I agreed. “Did you hear any more from them?”
Joe shook his head. “Nothing. And we’ve given up on adopting.”
Gretchen moved forward on the love seat and held out her hand. “So, we have here two police people and a private detective. Do you all think we’re in danger?”
“As I said,” responded Chief, “I’d just be careful for a while.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Detective?”
I was glad she asked Rosie first. There wasn’t an easy answer. We didn’t want to scare them unduly, but we wanted to get their attention.
Rosie spread her hands out. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I agree with Chief Werth… be careful.”
Chief placed his hands on the arms of the rocker and pushed himself up. “Tell you what. I’ll have the patrol cars make a few extra trips out here each night. And, Joe, you have my home phone. Call me anytime, especially if you see someone you don’t know hanging around.”
<
br /> An angry look had replaced Gretchen’s concern. “We live next to a cemetery. We see a lot of people we don’t know.” She clenched her jaw. “All we wanted to do was give a baby a home, and this is what we get?”
There was no good answer to that, and no one responded.
“How long do we have to be careful?” she asked.
There wasn’t a good answer to that either, but I tried.
“We’re going to keep working on this, Mrs. Frey. Hopefully we’ll catch the person and this will be over.”
She still looked angry. “Do you have any idea why these people were killed?”
I would have liked to have had an answer to that question but just shook my head. “No.”
“I’m just a schoolteacher, but I would think it’s hard to catch someone if you don’t have a motive.”
I couldn’t disagree. My only answer was, again, “We’ll keep looking.” I had a thought that might help, but I didn’t want to share it with them. We needed to get ahold of Detective Springer and find out if the Maxwells had the same experience with the agency.
Mrs. Frey was angry and afraid. I knew it was at the situation and not us, but we were the ones there. She had to take it out on someone.
“You’re going to keep looking,” she said. “That’s great. Who’s going to protect us… the dog?”
I was sure the rest had the same reaction as I did, wondering what she was talking about.
Her husband, Joe, looked as confused as we did and gently asked, “What dog are you talking about, honey?”
She looked disgusted. “You know, the black dog that sits at the cemetery gate.”
It was obvious he still didn’t know what she was talking about and tried to comfort her.
“It’ll be all right, dear. Don’t worry about the dog.”
“Don’t patronize me! You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the dog. He’s there almost every day when we go to work.”
He was still confused. “I do remember you mentioning a dog a while back, but—”
She was getting more and more disturbed.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen the dog. I’m not making this up! I’m not crazy!”
He took her hand. “No, honey, you’re not crazy. It’s the stress of this. We’re all worried.”
She just glared at him.
We were all uncomfortable. Chief Werth suggested we go, and we all stood. He again told them it would be okay and to call if anything suspicious happened, no matter how trivial. Joe thanked us all for coming and wished us luck.
On the ride back I shared my thought about checking with the Maxwells with Chief.
“The answer to that question will be helpful… but not conclusive.”
“Nope. But helpful is all we have at the moment.”
Werth pulled back into his spot. Before we got out I asked if there was a Dairy Queen in town.
He smiled. “What’s a town without a DQ? Up two blocks, turn right on Baker, and down three blocks.”
“Do they have food?”
“Nope, just ice cream. But there’s a diner right next door I can recommend.”
“Thanks, you wanna join us?”
He laughed. “Thanks for the offer.” He patted his stomach. “I’m trying to stay away from ice cream.”
“Good luck with that,” I said. “How long a drive to Green Bay?”
“Less than an hour. Go south a block from DQ and you’ll hit College Avenue. You’ll pass Lawrence University and cross the Fox River. A couple miles after that, turn north on 441 and that’ll take you to 41 and up to Green Bay.”
“Great. Thanks, Chief. Nice meeting you,” I said. We all shook hands.
“Keep me informed, and let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Will do.”
We had a burger at the diner.
“Well, one mystery solved,” Rosie said. “Now we know about the payments.”
“Yup. One’s better than none.”
“But poor Mrs. Frey. She’s pretty scared.”
“She has reason to be. It’s a helpless feeling.”
“And what’s with the dog?” Rosie asked and then picked up her root beer.
“You’re not going to like my answer.”
She smiled. “Nothing new about that. Try me.”
“Well, first of all, a dog with a lot of bark would be a big help.”
“Maybe the black dog would be a watchdog.”
“It might if it was.”
She was about to take a bite of her burger and stopped. “What the hell does that mean?”
“This is the answer you’re not going to like.”
She just looked at me with squinted eyes.
“I think Mrs. Frey is the only one who can see the dog.”
She looked at me some more. “Are you saying the dog is a ghost?”
I nodded and took a bite. “Greek mythology holds that a three-headed dog named Cerebrus, also called the hound of Hades, guarded the gates of hell to keep the dead from leaving. There have been many reports of dogs, usually black, seen around cemeteries and places where executions have occurred. They’re known as hellhounds, and they’re a bad omen.”
“So it’s not going to protect Mrs. Frey.”
“Probably not.” She was taking it better than I thought she would. “It could also be the pet dog of someone buried in the cemetery.”
“I’d like to look into that some more.”
“So would I.” I finished my burger. “I’ve done some reading, and these old towns usually have pretty good records. It would be interesting to come back and spend some time in the archives.”
“That would be fun. Let’s do it.”
We stopped at DQ and had cones for dessert and then headed back to Green Bay.
We crossed the river twice, and when we got to 41 Rosie asked, “You want me to call Springer in the morning?”
“Sure.”
We were quiet for a minute before I asked, “Do you remember Joe’s question about the chances of the payments happening with two mothers?”
She nodded.
“Maybe it’s the same mother. We need to find out about the Maxwells.”
A half hour later I was pulling into a space at the hotel and looking forward to the whirlpool tub and a relaxing evening watching the river boats.
Rosie noticed the flashing message light on the phone. “I’ll check messages, Spencer.”
“Okay. I’ll start the tub.”
The whirlpool was in a large room outside the bathroom. It was about half full when Rosie came in.
“A message from the captain. He says Friday. And also they got nothing from the cousin. The gang interviews got them nowhere. They’re still looking, of course.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I wondered if she was going to ask, and she did.
“So, when Friday comes do I get to find out what the hell is going on?”
I laughed. “I promise to clear up the mystery at some point, but I don’t know when.”
“Will it be before I shoot you?”
“Hopefully.”
“Remember we have an appointment at eleven at the agency.”
“Yup. Thanks.”
We got into the tub slowly, adapting to the hot water, and I turned on the jets. A couple of beers and an hour watching the lights on the river were a perfect way to wind down as we held hands and talked about our strategy for the meeting.
We were both nodding off around eleven and decided we had reached the end of a long day.
As we were turning down the bedcovers, Rosie said, “I have a request.”
“Which is?”
“This is a nice room, but I miss Moonlight Bay. Can we stay at the cottage tomorrow night?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” I said. “Absolutely.” Nothing is ever for sure, but I was hopeful.
She came around the bed and put her arms around me. We had to cut the hug short before we fell asleep standing up.
&nb
sp; Chapter 12
Rosie got ahold of Detective Springer a little after nine. He said he’d check with Mr. Maxwell and get back to us. Indirect sunlight filled the room as we watched the sun sparkling on the water. We took the rental car and arrived at the agency right on time.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Blaine,” Miss Leek said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
We both returned her good morning.
“Have a seat. Mrs. Peters is running a little late. She just called and said to tell you she’d be here in a few minutes.”
“No problem, Sarah.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
We both declined.
“While we’re waiting,” I said, “I’m wondering about something that happened the last time we were here.”
“What’s that?” She looked concerned.
“When we came in there was a couple leaving, and the woman was crying. Mrs. Peters’ explanation wasn’t too convincing. Do you get many upset clients?”
She looked at everything in the room except me and was obviously flustered. “No, we really don’t… not… well…”
I let her pause.
“I’ve only been here a year so I haven’t seen a lot of clients, but that was the only one I’ve seen upset. I…” She looked unsure of herself.
I leaned forward on the couch. “What were you going to say, Sarah?”
“Well, we did have trouble with a mother, but I—”
Sarah stopped as we all heard the back door open and close. Mrs. Peters had arrived.
***
Mrs. Peters had her smile turned on by the time we walked into her office. She offered us a seat and told us how nice it was to see us again. I was trying hard not to walk out. If I was there to actually adopt a baby, I would have.
“So how are you coming along in your decision?” she asked.
Rosie answered, “We’re still weighing all the factors and trying to make a good decision.”
Peters nodded in agreement. “It is an important decision, and I’m glad you’re taking time to think about it. This isn’t something that should be rushed into. How can I help?”
Rosie looked at me lovingly and then back at Peters. “Well, the decision about whether or not we want to add a child to our family is a personal one, but the decision of what agency to use certainly involves you.”