The Noding Field Mystery

by Christine Husom

  Smoke laughed melodiously, and we climbed into our separate vehicles. I followed him to Emerald Lake High School. My personal cell phone rang as we met on the sidewalk in front of the building. I looked at the display. “Sorry, it’s John Carl,” I said as I hit the talk button. “Hey, big bro, I’m glad you’re there, safe and sound. . . . Did you pull your car into my garage? . . . Good. . . . I’m sure Queenie is trying to figure out who got into her house on her watch. I’ll rescue her from her kennel when I get home. . . . Well, make yourself at home and I’ll be there as soon as I can, probably in a couple of hours. . . . Okie doke. Bye.”

  “Queenie going nuts?” Smoke said when I hung up.

  “Yeah. When she gets fully trained, I may leave her in the house when I’m gone, but she has little accidents if I’m gone too long, or if she gets excited.”

  “Understandable since she isn’t three months old yet. So John Carl’s staying with you?”

  “Tonight he will. It worked out with flights to come in a day early. We’re hiding him out at my house until after the party then he’ll stay with Mom. I think he likes sleeping in his old room. His old bed. ”

  We headed into the brick school building. Back when I attended school, visitors were asked to check-in at the office and state the purpose for their visit. But it was on the honor system and there was no formal monitoring of the hallways, so not everyone complied with that policy.

  All that changed in the aftermath of the shooting tragedy at Columbine High School in Colorado. And Emerald Lake had joined the growing number of Minnesota schools that had put tighter security measures in place.

  The Emerald Lake Principal’s Office personnel also served as safety guards for the students and staff at the school. The office was located directly off the main entrance, the only one that was unlocked during school hours. We went through the first set of double doors, then into the office. A lean-faced, middle-aged woman looked first at the sheriff’s badge hanging around my neck, then to Smoke’s sidearm. Her eyebrows raised in question.

  Smoke tipped his head toward her. “Detective Dawes and Sergeant Aleckson to see Bridget Regan.”

  “And she’s expecting you?”

  “No.” Smoke smiled. “We don’t always know our schedule from minute to minute.”

  She smiled back. “I’ll make sure she’s in her office, and not with a student.” The attendant made the phone call. When she hung up, she told us to head straight down the west corridor to room one-forty-three, and we’d see ‘Bridget Regan, School Counselor’ on the door.

  We found Regan’s room seconds later. The door was ajar. Smoke knocked on the inside of it and stuck his head in the room. “Ms. Regan?”

  “Yes?”

  Smoke stepped in and I followed. “Remember me?” I said.

  Bridget stood and stepped around to the side of her desk. “Of course, Sergeant . . .”

  “Aleckson.”

  “And I’m Detective Dawes.” Smoke handed her his business card.

  Bridget’s navy business suit was professional and crisp on her model thin body. “Is this about Gage? About what happened to him? I’ve already—”

  Smoke indicated a chair. “May we?”

  She cleared her throat. “Sure. Please have a seat.”

  Smoke sat, and since Bridget remained standing, so did I. Bridget crossed her arms on her waist and waited. Smoke glanced at her, but made no comment as he withdrew his glasses and writing utensils from his pocket.

  “When you talked to the deputy and sergeant here—after Gage Leder’s body was discovered—you disclosed you were married to him for a very short time. According to the sergeant’s report, you discovered he was cheating on you.”

  Bridget’s arms tightened around her waist. “Yes.”

  “That must have been a shock so early in the marriage.”

  “I can’t believe I married him, or let him near my daughter.”

  Smoke’s eyes narrowed. “Let him near your daughter?”

  Her eyes widened a touch. “Gage Leder had no morals. I kick myself at least once every day for letting him be Lea’s stepfather, even for a short time. I mean, what kind of a role model was he, anyway? You know, I’m usually pretty good at reading people, but I blew it big time with him.”

  “As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Gage is dead, so I’d advise you to stop kicking yourself.”

  Bridget nodded and sat down, so I eased onto a chair myself.

  “Your daughters are still friends?” Smoke continued.

  “They are. Maybe not as close as they were a few years ago.”

  “Any special reason?”

  “Lea didn’t care much for Gage after our divorce, and Morgan knew it.”

  “Morgan felt loyal to Gage, despite his wicked ways?”

  Bridget pursed her lips. “I’m not going to speak for Morgan. All I’ll say is that I know she had issues with her father’s behavior when she got older. His charm lost its charm for her.”

  “Hmm. His charm lost its charm. Well put. Tell me about Gage’s health issue.”

  “Health issue? You mean his heart condition, or was there something else?”

  “His heart condition.”

  “He wouldn’t talk about it. I saw his empty pill bottle in the trash and asked him about it. He lied and said it was an antibiotic, but it wasn’t the name of any antibiotic I’d ever heard of, so I looked it up. It was a medication for a heart rhythm problem.”

  “Why would he lie about that?”

  “Good question. He was a liar, a cheat, and a thief. That’s what he was.”

  “And a thief?”

  “Living off others made him a thief as far as I was concerned. Especially now, I mean, you must have learned he married a vulnerable woman so she could support him.”

  “You know Tonya Leder?”

  Bridget nodded. “I know of her, and figured out why Gage married her. Not that I could have stopped it, but I could have warned her. I wish someone had warned me.”

  “You mean Nora didn’t warn you?”

  “I didn’t know her very well, even though our daughters were friends. Gage called her a witch, and I kind of avoided her. She didn’t know we were getting married. In fact, Gage whisked me away to Las Vegas as a surprise, and the next thing I knew we were in a little fly-by-night chapel saying ‘I do.’”

  “And would you have married him if one of his ex-wives had told you not to?”

  Bridget shrugged. “It’s all water over the dam. Gage is gone and I’m glad. There, I said it out loud. The world is a better place without Gage Leder in it.”

  Smoke studied Bridget for a second. “For the record, can you give me an account of your whereabouts on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday?”

  Bridget slid her chair to the right, and reached for her computer mouse. “I keep a daily list of the students I see in a computer file. I’m here each day from eight to four-thirty. Did you want to see Monday’s schedule?”

  “You have it there?”

  Bridget pressed some keys, then turned the screen so we could view the day. It was a full schedule.

  “And the weekend days?”

  “Mostly home. I slept in on Saturday. Went to church Sunday. Read. Did some work in my flower gardens.”

  “You didn’t go out, meet anyone socially?”

  “I don’t have much of a social life. I thought about going shopping, but didn’t. I often work on crafts at home in the evening. I’d have to think about it—this has been an emotional week—but I probably did crafts both Saturday and Sunday nights. And I go to bed by ten-thirty. ”

  “Okay. Well. We’ve taken enough of your time. Thank you.” Smoke held out his hand. Bridget extended her own and they shook.

  “Take care,” I said then followed Smoke out of the room, and out of the building.

  I put my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun. “We’ll see you tomorrow night about six?”

  “Yeah, Cindy should have the place all spruced up by then.�
� Cindy was the woman who cleaned his house every other week.

  “Thanks for offering your house. Much easier to keep it secret from Mom.”

  “I don’t entertain all that much, so I’m looking forward to it.”

  “And we have to remember it’ll be Mom’s night. No shop talk.”

  “I imagine the sheriff will discreetly pull us aside to pick our brains on any developments.”

  “Gee, what makes you think that?”

  CHAPTER 14

  John Carl, I’m home!” I called into my quiet house. Queenie started barking from her kennel in the backyard when she heard me yell.

  “In here.” His voice came from the living room. He was bent over his laptop, diligently working, as always. He stood and waited for me to close the gap between us. My head rested on his chest when we hugged. We held each other for a minute then settled onto the couch.

  “Working undercover?” he said looking from my street clothes to my badge and gun.

  “No, more like helping a detective for a while on my day off.” I gave him a rundown of the case.

  “And you actually like this stuff?”

  “I like finding out who does this stuff and getting him off the streets so he can’t do it to anyone else.”

  “Mother worries about you.”

  “Mother worries about you.”

  “Mother worries about everyone and everything.”

  I laughed and my solemn-prone brother smiled. I didn’t ask for an update on his failing marriage. The past year had been a struggle for him—his wife had moved out of their bedroom, but stayed in their house, mainly for financial reasons. John Carl held onto the hope he could make Emily love him again, but at the same time realized no person could make another do that.

  “I better get Queenie. She can’t figure out why I didn’t go to her first thing.”

  I went into the backyard, and when I opened the door to her large chain link kennel, Queenie acted like she hadn’t seen me for a week. She dashed around and jumped and yipped. After she used up some of her energy, we went inside and I introduced her to John Carl. They liked each other immediately.

  “You’re a good girl,” he said as he petted her. Queenie licked and gently gnawed his hand. “She looks like the dogs Gramps used to have.”

  “That’s why I chose the English setter breed. And Rebecca helped me choose her, in particular.”

  “How is Rebecca?”

  “She’s doing very well. Blossoming. Almost done with the school year. I’ll try to do more with her this summer.”

  Rebecca Eisner was the ten-year-old I had guardianship over. When her grandmother, Alvie Eisner, had asked me to take over the role, it had caught me completely off guard, since Alvie had tried to kill me. Despite that important fact, Alvie had told me she trusted me to do what was best for her granddaughter. Not everything in life made sense.

  From the moment I had first met Rebecca, I’d experienced a special bond with her. Our fathers had both died before we were born, and prior to our meeting, neither one of us had ever known anyone else that had happened to. Rebecca’s mother had deserted her, literally left her on her grandmother’s doorstep, and disappeared. Alvie had raised Rebecca with loving care, despite her own mental health issues.

  When Alvie was arrested, Rebecca had entered the child protection system. I worked with the caring people there and we were able to arrange for Rebecca to live with her friend Tina’s family. They were in the process of adopting her, so life was good.

  “Is she coping with her grandmother’s death?” Alvie had succumbed to a brain tumor during her incarceration.

  “She is. Rebecca is wise beyond her years. I don’t know if she will ever truly accept that her grandmother killed three people. She knows it happened, but she prefers to think of their life together before it took that awful turn.”

  “I don’t blame her. Self-protection.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow night?” he asked.

  “We pick up Grandma and Grandpa and Gramps about five-thirty. At six-thirty, Smoke and I will drive over—each in our own vehicles—and pick up our guests from the Fair Mill County Park. Everyone should be in place when Mom and Denny arrive.”

  “Promise me you will never throw a surprise party, of any kind, for me.”

  “So you’re not going to be happy that half of this party is a belated happy thirtieth for you?”

  “I’ll leave for the airport now and you can tell Mom I couldn’t make it.”

  It was so easy to push John Carl’s buttons.

  “Would you rather have a ‘we’ve both made it to thirty’ celebration sometime during the two months after I turn thirty and before you turn thirty-one?” He stared at me until I couldn’t hold my laughter in any longer. “You really think I’d do that to you, mister-not-the-most-social-guy-on-the-planet?” John Carl reached over and gave my head a light cuff. “Hey, I could arrest you for second degree assault of a peace officer.” And I gave him a cuff back.

  Friday morning he took his laptop outside to my deck and set up shop. When I brought him a cup of coffee, I sat down and watched him work. He looked like our father, Carl, in the old photos: tall, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, defined cheekbones. He had a higher forehead and a longer nose than me, but we had similar mouths with fairly full lips. Carl had been killed in a Vietnamese jungle during the war, when John Carl was a baby and I was not yet born. Our mother became a twenty-year-old widow with two babies, a life I struggled to imagine when I became an adult myself. At age twenty, I was a carefree college student.

  And, though I was looking at thirty in a few months, I still had not yet married or had children. After a few minutes of daydreaming of what our lives with our father would have been like, I slipped back into the house and started in on my long to-do list.

  By the time John Carl and I delivered our grandparents, Grandma Aleckson’s homemade food, and other supplies to Smoke’s house, it was nearly six o’clock. Smoke threw an arm around John Carl’s shoulder in a man hug. “John Carl, besides being happy to see you, it’s like seeing my old buddy Carl again.”

  Our father and mother had been close friends of Smoke through their school years. Smoke and Dad both went into the military after graduation, and never saw each other again. I know that weighed on Smoke. When he got out of the military, he went into law enforcement. He had spent the majority of his law enforcement years in northern Minnesota, working for Lake County, then the Cook County Sheriff’s Department. He returned to Oak Lea and was hired by Winnebago County a couple of years before I started there. He was my training officer, and we became fast friends.

  Like me, Smoke hadn’t married or had kids, either. We were close, but as far as a more personal relationship, we took turns pushing more intimate feelings for each other aside. Smoke was more concerned than I was that we’d ruin our perfectly good friendship—one that was based on mutual trust and respect—if we allowed ourselves to fall head over heels in love.

  John Carl’s words brought me out of my reverie. “Nice to see you, too, Smoke.” Those who knew John Carl well knew he was smiling on the inside, but he rarely expressed it on the outside. I had assured him countless times his face would not crack if he curled his lips and showed off his teeth. But I was just the little sister, what did I know?

  Smoke held out his arms. “Welcome, Loretta, John, Arnold, and Corky. Here, let me take that for you.” He lifted the big salad bowl and its contents from my grandma’s hands and carried it into his kitchen. Grandpa Aleckson, John Carl, and I followed with our armloads. Gramps Brandt needed both hands free for better balance. He wasn’t steady enough on his feet to maneuver doors and steps if he carried anything besides himself.

  Smoke surveyed the spread. “We got crock pots full of sloppy joes and some kind of a hot baked bean dish, plus your famous potato salad, Loretta. Broccoli salad, chips. We are in summer feast heaven. I’ve got a cooler out on the deck filled with beer, sodas, water.”r />
  “I’ll get the wine out of the car,” John Carl said and left.

  When he returned, I told him, “Maybe you can go with Smoke to pick up our guests. I’ll stay and help arrange the food and open up the plate and silverware packages, so that’ll be done. That is, if you don’t mind driving the GTO again.” He had driven on the way over to Smoke’s.

  John Carl’s eyes twinkled. The classic car had been in storage for over twenty years after our father died. Mother finally agreed to let me bring it back to life, and I became the proud owner of our father’s vintage model vehicle. I suspected John Carl was a little jealous, but he wouldn’t admit to it.

  I called out to get Smoke’s attention on the other side of the room. “Smoke, when you get to the park, will you introduce John Carl to Eric and your lady friend?”

  “You have a lady friend?” Grandma asked.

  Smoke cleared his throat. “She’s Corky’s friend as much as mine. She’s a psychologist we met last month who helped us on that cult case.”

  “Oh, yes, Corky told us about her, and her work with victims of ritual abuse. It’ll be a treat to meet her.” Grandma smiled.

  I recited the guest list for John Carl. “So it’s Sara, Mom’s two shop helpers and friends—Candy and Alice—Eric, Marcella—”

  “And a few of our old classmates your mom keeps in touch with,” Smoke added.

  “We kept it on the small side—”

  “Because my smaller scale home cannot hold what Kristen’s huge party barn can when she has her big Labor Day party, and invites everyone and his brother.”

  After Smoke and John Carl left, Grandpa and Gramps headed into the living room to claim comfortable seats. Grandma picked up my hand. “My Heart.” It was her pet name for me when the two of us were alone, and was our secret. It was not a secret to family and friends that we shared like personalities and interests, however. She was the one who helped my mother realize the only career I wanted was in law enforcement.

  “Elton finishes your sentences like you’re an old married couple.” She waited for my reaction. “You don’t even notice, do you?”