Deadly Cost of Goods

by Margaret Evans

  It worked! The first part of the microfilm was magnified and displayed in all its glory on the screen. What she saw was the beginning of an alphabetical-by-author listing of fiction books present in the Old Library in—she looked at the cover—1962. That would be shortly before they moved everything to the New Library. Laura figured they would have wanted to make sure they had records of every book they owned, whether it was in the “stacks” or out for borrowing. A turning knob was on the side of the reader for zooming in to make the text bigger or zooming out to make it smaller. A second knob allowed the user to move left, right, up and down. No keyboard or mouse here, and that was a bit disorienting, but Laura eventually got comfortable working with the reader’s knobs.

  She continued scrolling through the reel, amazed at all the work librarians do. She was wondering how to rewind the reel to remove it when Glenda returned.

  “Oh goody! It works!” Glenda exclaimed.

  “Do you know how to rewind it?”

  “Try reversing the control knob.”

  Laura let Glenda take the lead as the machine belonged to the library. The reversal worked, and they removed the reel and replaced it in the canister. Then they turned off the machine and unplugged it.

  “You can come back here anytime, Laura. Sundays are good. I know we’re running out of time, so just let me know if you need something printed. We used to hook up a dot matrix printer to this machine when I was younger and we can figure something else out.”

  “I could bring my little inkjet printer, if that would work. Then nobody has to do anything special. I can print out what I think might work for the display and you can revise it as you like.”

  Laura was thinking that if she brought her own printer, she could print as much as she wanted, and the microfilm reader didn’t track anything because it wasn’t a computer. She didn’t care for trickery or deception, however, so she would have to present a variety of sign-out pages from several years, a couple of which happened to include Lorelei’s name.

  “That’s perfect. When is a good time for you on Sunday? I’m here all day from ten in the morning until about five in the afternoon. We have a lot of new books to get catalogued.”

  “I’m not sure of the time, but I’ll text you as soon as I know.”

  Laura had lots of information to search through. She couldn’t bring a thumb drive, as the readers weren’t computer-literate, but she could bring her printer and print to her heart’s content, take it all home, and pore through it looking for anything at all that would point to what happened to Lorelei Rage.

  Chapter 28

  With the crowd that showed up Saturday in a rush to get as many flags as possible for Monday’s Memorial Day holiday parade, Laura had little time to think of her own problems, plus the new one with Justin. But she had awakened early with the weight hanging over her and realized she could use another dose of Mary Poos again. She had learned this lesson long ago, in another time and place, when her parents were murdered and her Great-aunt Rose had taken her away to Maryland and given her the gift of several different counselors. It was always better to sit with someone else, even if she found the situation too difficult to express verbally, even when Laura was certain it was the end of the world nearly twelve years ago.

  “Why, of course, I’m at the school today, Laura. Have to put all those books back on the shelves and make sure nobody messed anything else up. You don’t know what these teens can do to my books. I would love a lunch break. What shall it be today? Chinese again or Mexican?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just have to talk to you about something big I just found out.”

  “Sub sandwiches it shall be. Any preferences?”

  “I like them all.”

  “How soon can you be here?”

  It turned out to be exactly twenty-two minutes because of Saturday noon traffic. But the food had arrived and all was well in Mary’s office when the two sat down to eat in the quiet calm amidst the surrounding storms.

  Laura was unwrapping her foot-long, wondering how long it would take her to eat all of it and figuring she would be sharing it with Connor at some point.

  “What made you decide on sub sandwiches?” she asked.

  Mary laughed.

  “When you’ve had a shock, fresh food is always the best thing to eat. And you sounded as if you’d had a big shock. They always throw blankets on people, and I’m sure that’s good, too, but fresh food is the best thing. One day there will be some research done on that, and I’m sure I’ll be vindicated.”

  Laura nodded, took a bite from a corner. After she swallowed her bite and sipped the iced tea Mary had also taken the liberty to order, she spoke.

  “A man just came into my shop on Thursday and told me he’s my twin brother.”

  Mary stopped chewing, was silent, staring at Laura.

  “Did he provide any proof?”

  Laura nodded.

  “Two birth certificates. A fake one showing his adoptive parents as the birth parents that he’s been using all his life up to now, and apparently the real one he just got from Ramsey County public records showing my parents are his parents and we were born the same day.”

  Poos stopped eating altogether, leaned her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers.

  “A fake birth certificate and a real one. How can you be sure which is the fake one?”

  “I have a friend in the police department who’s looking into that for me.”

  Mary was quiet a moment.

  “And you had no inkling of this from your parents?”

  “None.”

  “So, they put him up for adoption and kept you by their side. Interesting. I certainly have heard nothing about your parents having more than one child. You’re the only one I know about, and believe me, I hear a lot.”

  Laura looked thoughtful.

  “You know, I didn’t feel anything when I met him. I thought twins were always supposed to know there’s someone else out there that belongs to them, even with fraternal twins.”

  “I don’t believe the research has proven that is consistent with each set of twins.”

  “And then there’s our birth weights. They seem too big for twins.”

  “Well, there could be other factors involved. We don’t know anything about your mother’s health at the time, such as if she was bedridden or something like that.”

  “She was finishing up her doctorate in psychology when she was pregnant with me.”

  “Ah. So, I think there’s a reason why this is surfacing now. I would just take each day as it comes but be watchful. Even though this is out in the open, so to speak, it may still need more light. I think the first step should be to find out which is the real birth certificate. You would be surprised at what can happen in a public records office. Perhaps you’ll discover they’re both fake. Who knows?”

  “We are trying to focus on that right now.”

  “And have you found out anything more about the poor, unfortunate child, Lorelei?”

  “Still gathering facts and data.”

  “Laura, dear, it sounds to me as if you’re on the right track with both of your…projects.”

  Mary’s large, pale blue eyes sparkled.

  The more things that could come to light became a spur to Laura to get cracking on Lorelei’s mysterious disappearance as well as Justin’s mysterious appearance. And as Laura pulled into the loading dock behind her shop, it struck her.

  How had Mary Poos known what her fortune cookie had said the other day?

  Chapter 29

  Shortly after twelve noon on Sunday, Laura brought a small inkjet printer with lots of different cables, plus paper, in a wheeled carrier to the New Library. It took no time to find a cable that connected the microfilm reader to the printer, and Glenda stood by to check if the connection worked and they could actually print. She watched as Laura loaded a couple of dozen sheets of print paper into the tray and turned on the reader. They were on the main floor of the library as Max
and Nicky had shown up earlier in the day to move the catalogue and other items, including both readers, out of the basement room. The other items in boxes could wait for Laura and Glenda to review for use in the display.

  Stopping on the first page of book listings, Laura pushed the “print” button next to the power button on the reader and waited. The machine continued to hum, but its humming took on a slightly lower tone as it sent the information to the printer.

  Both women cheered as the printer blinked on, processed the data, and produced a printout of the page on the screen in reasonable legibility. Now that they could do it, they had more decisions to make on what to look for and print for the display.

  Laura suggested the Library Handbook for Librarians and Library Rules.

  “I’ll print two copies of each, one for your team to look over and one for me to think about for the overall display. For the Library Rules to follow, we could blow up a few on a copier and put those rules on the display. Like ‘Hush’ and ‘Be sure not to bring your kites into the library’ or whatever the rules were in their quaint old-time language.”

  “Great idea, Laura. Maybe you can look for the sign-out sheets after that and select a few from different years. We could make them part of the interactive display for the kids to flip through. We have a laminator here. It we laminate the pages, they won’t get damaged in handling.”

  And Laura got to work while Glenda Thursson was checking shelves and cataloguing new books and Melba Coombs was busy in her office with administrative duties. Little did any of the three ladies dream what Laura would find.

  * * *

  Another scene was taking place in Raging Ford on this Sunday afternoon, not related to Laura’s library searching, but close enough. A lot of things were taking place lately related to Samuel Rage’s descendants. This time it was happening at the Fitzpatrick home.

  Michael and Connor were stuffed and virtually incoherent after an extravaganza of a meal, courtesy of Alison.

  Connor was the first to recover.

  “I can’t remember the last time I had roast beef, thickened gravy, carrot soufflé, Swiss green beans, and sour cream mashed potatoes. That was awesome, Mom. Thanks.”

  “I can remember,” Michael said, drawing his son’s attention and puzzlement.

  “Laura gave me all of her mother’s recipes last fall when she came back to Minnesota,” Alison explained.

  “You never invited me over for these dishes?”

  “When you stopped coming over for Sunday dinner every week,” his father said, “we figured you were eating at Laura’s and she was doing all this cooking.”

  “Well, I do eat there from time to time, but she didn’t cook this particular meal. You know all those recipes may have been Mrs. Keene’s, but Laura did all the food prep, cooking, and baking, right?”

  They both nodded.

  Connor must have been the only one in the county who hadn’t known.

  “Now, I have to change the subject because I came here for a reason other than that I love you both and I was hungry.”

  “I figured,” Michael said. “You had that look.”

  “Do I have to leave the room?” Alison asked.

  “No, I need reaction, advice and input from both of you.”

  “Your grandmother’s ring is in the safe, dear, right here in the house,” Alison offered.

  Connor covered his face with both hands for a moment.

  “No, but thanks. We have a different thing that showed up in our Inbox. A man about Laura’s age came to her shop on Thursday with a birth certificate and a letter from his adoptive parents telling him that he is Laura’s fraternal twin brother.”

  Alison gasped, a hand over her mouth.

  Even Michael looked surprised.

  “Why now? What’s so special about now?” the elder Fitzpatrick asked.

  “Okay. You can’t share it with anyone else, especially Ian and Shannon. But the guy shows up with this bent-up, old letter that he says his adoptive parents gave him when he turned eighteen and they first told him he was adopted. He didn’t get up the nerve to read the letter until a couple of months ago. That’s why now. The birth certificate he’s been using for identification all of his life says his adoptive parents are his biological parents. Very recently, he requested a certified copy of his birth certificate from Ramsey County and it says the Keenes are his biological parents. Both of his birth certificates list his birth date as the same as Laura’s.”

  A frown formed on Michael’s face.

  “Somebody either knows somebody in the records office and paid them off, or somebody hacked into it and made some changes.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. It’s really hard to get those offices to change records themselves. He’s been hanging around Duluth and Raging Ford for a few weeks now. Sven ran into him twice. He claims to be a graduate of UMinn Engineering School. His adoptive parents gave him a letter to read before he went to college, but he didn’t until after his graduation and going to work at some engineering company in Mankato. Since that time, he decided to take a leave of absence and search everywhere in Minnesota for his sister, Laura Keene.”

  “So there was a delay in the expected search for her,” Michael said thoughtfully.

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but yes,” Connor agreed.

  “How is Laura handling all this?” Alison asked, her face filled with concern. “Not well, I imagine.”

  “You’re right, Mom. Not well at all. There’s more to the story.”

  “Let me get some coffee going,” Alison said, turning toward the kitchen. “Keep talking. I can hear you from here.”

  “It turns out he’s also the person who made that anonymous 911 call when Laura was kidnapped last April. He seems genuine, personable, intelligent. Sven ran the background checks on him, verified his education and his employment. No criminal record.”

  “Does Sven know what he’s claiming?”

  “Nope. I just told him the guy has been looking for Laura because he thinks he may have some information about her family. He seems very nice.”

  “So was Ted Bundy, charming as hell,” Michael murmured. “Well, I can do some digging, but you knew that. So what did you want to ask us?”

  “If you knew anything about a second child the Keenes had.”

  Alison and Michael both shook their heads.

  “What does his birth certificate say? And what does Laura’s say?” Alison asked.

  “They both say ‘single live birth.’ This guy claims his adoptive parents told him to talk to some woman in St. Paul for more information and she told him that Mrs. Keene went into labor and they had a midwife do the delivery in their apartment because they had no money, but something went wrong after this boy was born, and they had to go to the hospital where Laura was born and that might be the reason for the separated information on their birth certificates.”

  The Fitzpatricks were silent a few moments, and Connor hoped they might remember something that would help.

  “Well, I think that’s right about the midwife,” Alison said. “At least that’s what I remember her telling me. But why they didn’t have money for a hospital, I don’t know. Michael, do you remember anything?”

  Michael was lost in thought.

  “I was still covered on my parents’ health insurance for all three of you, so I didn’t need to hurry into signing up for union benefits. But when Frannie got pregnant and it didn’t look as if she was going to lose this one, I told Frank to hurry up and sign up. Neither of them at that point was on their parents’ insurance. The only way they didn’t have coverage is if (a) he didn’t turn in the paperwork yet or (b) Frannie went into labor early, or both. We’d already moved to Raging Ford when these houses were just being built. So we weren’t there when Laura was born.”

  Connor’s father shifted in his seat, sipped his coffee.

  “Who was this person the guy was supposed to meet to give him more information about everything?”

&
nbsp; “A woman named Edna Phelps who lives in St. Paul. But, Dad, I gotta tell you, she’s a nowhere person. I can’t find her anywhere. She has no telephone.”

  “Maybe she died.”

  “He just spoke with her this spring. All I have is this,” Connor said and handed Justin’s business card with Edna Phelps’s information on the flip side.

  “I need a copy of this,” Michael said and began to rise.

  “Stop, I’m up. I’ll do it on the printer,” Alison said, a hand on his shoulder. She took the card but stayed a moment longer in the room when she heard her son’s latest remark.

  “He said she was elderly and had a home nurse or someone who came to visit her regularly. Are you sure there’s nothing else you can remember about the seven years you guys all went to school together? Maybe there’s a clue there.”

  “Well, Connor, your father and I were high school sweethearts and we got married in our sophomore year at college. Ian came along later and I was able to keep up. Three years later, Shannon showed up, and thankfully, I kept up with my schoolwork. Your grandmother did the child care or I couldn’t have finished school. Two years later, the year before I got my Master’s and your father went into the academy, you appeared.”

  “What about the Keenes?”

  “They got married in senior year, right, Alison?”

  She nodded and took up the story.

  “Poor Fran. She had two miscarriages, one after the other, and was so happy when it looked as if her third pregnancy wouldn’t get lost. She had gotten pregnant when you were about nine months old, Connor.”

  “I just don’t know where to go from here and would appreciate your steering me in the right direction.”