by Midge Bubany
Brittany made out a schedule for the team of neighbors, family, and friends who offered to help with the housework, cooking, and baby care. Shannon took a five-year leave with the understanding she could go back to work whenever she wanted. It was her decision, but I liked knowing she was at home with our kids.
For me it was a relief to get out of the chaos of Twinkie Land and back to work. I stopped and bought cinnamon rolls and brought them to the squad room, where I found Troy passing out cigars.
“Hey, Sheehan. How’s it going? Saw your twins’ photos on Shannon’s Facebook page. Full heads of hair on those two.”
I nodded.
He handed me a cigar I’d never smoke.
“I take it Adriana had her baby?”
“Yep, a baby boy born yesterday morning at four fifteen.”
He pulled out a picture of Adriana holding a bald-headed baby. She looked happy.
“Marcus John, twenty inches long, eight pounds, nine ounces. What’d your twins weigh?”
“Both weighed exactly six pounds, five ounces.”
“That’s almost thirteen pounds of baby.”
“Yep. Shannon was pretty uncomfortable at the end. How’s Adriana handling motherhood?”
“Great. She comes home this afternoon. Magna’s here to help.”
I couldn’t contain my smile. “Lucky you. Getting along with Mugs, are you?”
“As long as I keep my mouth shut and don’t have an opinion.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay. Good luck with that. Is your townhouse a little cramped with Mugs there?”
“A little.”
“When will Adriana’s lake house be finished?”
“Ah . . . it won’t.”
“Why not?”
“She kept hedging on the rebuild and finally admitted she didn’t want to live there because of the history. Maddie Mitchell didn’t think anyone else would, either, so she bought the property back and is turning it into a park—a memorial garden.”
When the squad room emptied out except for us, Troy’s demeanor changed. He had on his serious face.
“Um, there’s something you may not have heard,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Adriana and I are moving to Minneapolis. I was hired on with the Hennepin County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Seriously?”
Seemed like Adriana got what she wanted after all. A sense of sadness seeped through me. I only hoped she knew what she was doing and not hopping back and forth from the Cities to Prairie Falls trying to find happiness in the place, or job, or even with another person rather than within herself.
“When?” I asked.
“In a week.”
“No shit? I didn’t even know you were interviewing.”
“No one did . . . except Adriana. You know it hasn’t been the same around here since Patrice took over.”
And you lost the election to her . . . and I was credited with solving the Dawson case.
“You getting married?”
“Eventually. Hopefully.”
Spanky bounded in with a big smile on his face.
“Hey, landlord, heard you were in here with rolls. Welcome back,” he said.
“Thanks. Everything work okay in the house?”
“Yeah, great.” He grabbed a cinnamon roll and took a big bite.
“Spanky, thanks for the baby outfits. Shannon said they’re stylish.”
“Yeah?” He shrugged. “Sadie picked them out.”
“Figured as much. Hey, I was going to ask you, did Sadie hear from Victoria?”
“Just after she was arrested she sent Sadie a nasty email telling her to get her things out of the apartment in twenty-four hours or it all would be thrown in the dumpster. She used a few words I won’t repeat.”
“Victoria is such a nice person,” I said.
Spanky giggled. “Not.”
“Think she’ll show up for her trial in September?” Troy asked.
“Not a chance,” I said.
“Yeah, Sadie thinks she’ll stay in Paris,” Spanky said.
“Where she can attack Parisian cops?” I asked.
“Yeah, probably.”
“Poor bastards,” I said.
We three broke into a laugh that went on much longer than it deserved.
When we gained control, I said, “Did you hear Troy is leaving?”
“Yeah. I applied for the investigations job, but I think Tamika has it locked up because Patrice already hired Jenny Deitz to replace her on patrol.”
Something else I didn’t know. “You miss a lot when you’re gone a month.”
“Well, I’m going home to bed,” Spanky said. “Oh, by the way, the steps look nice. I was just surprised by the color.”
“What steps? What color?”
“Didn’t you paint the back steps?”
A sense of alarm washed over me. “No. When did you notice it?”
“Last week.”
“What color were they painted?”
“Silver.”
I didn’t like the sound of this.
“Uh oh. Do you think it’s Victoria?” Spanky said.
“Maybe.” Who else?
“Watch your back, Spanky,” Troy said.
“Notice anything weird inside?” I asked.
“No, and I keep the door locked.”
“Good man.”
“Maybe it means she’s going to show up for her trial after all,” Troy said.
“And maybe I’ll invest in a security system for Shannon’s house,” I said.
Spanky left and Troy and I walked to our office. When we were seated at our desks, he swiveled his chair to face me and said, “So . . . you gonna miss me?”
“Yeah, I believe I will.”
These past months since he’d been with Adriana, Troy had become more agreeable and less competitive.
“We’ll have to come back for Victoria’s trial,” Troy said. “Man, I hope she does show up. Phillip Warner is helping Oliver. Did you know that?”
“No. Will wonders never cease?”
There was a moment of silence before Troy said, “I’ll take good care of her, you know.”
“I know. She mellows you out.”
“She makes me want to make more of myself.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know exactly—but I want to better myself, work my way up. Don’t think I can do that here.”
And maybe that was why I didn’t stay with Adriana. Being a deputy in a small town wasn’t good enough for her, but it was perfect for Shannon and me.
May 25
Just before noon, I headed south on 51 to the Dawson farm. I hadn’t seen them since Silver’s private graveside service a couple weeks ago. I was honored to be included but felt Silver’s friends who weren’t invited needed the closure more. I believe it was Jenny and Laurel who kept her headstone draped in silver ribbons, flowers, and stuffed animals. Before I left the cemetery that day, Franny Dawson handed me two baby gifts: crocheted baby blankets. I was touched.
When I walked up to the Dawson farmhouse, Franny met me at the door. The smell of roast beef and vegetables greeted me as I stepped inside. The kitchen table was set for two.
She said, “Hi, Cal, can you join us for dinner? We have plenty of pot roast.”
Ray came around the corner and gave me a smile.
“Smells delicious, but I already have lunch plans. I just wanted to drop off the box of Silver’s things off.”
Franny’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh, wonderful.” Her eyes crinkled as if she might cry but a smile of delight crossed her lips. “Is it everything? Even from back then?”
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p; I nodded. “Almost. I waited until I was sure there wasn’t going to be an appeal filed.”
Ray walked over to take the box from me, set it on the kitchen table and said, “Thank you for solving the case. We’re so grateful.” He shook my hand. “It’s hard for us . . . to think she died like that. It didn’t have to be that way.”
“If Parker had called for an ambulance right away, maybe she’d still be alive,” Franny said.
“I only wish I could have been the one to pull the trigger on him,” Ray said.
“Ray! You don’t say those things to people.”
“No, I fully understand,” I said. If it had been my child, those three would have disappeared. “One phone call to 911 would have changed everything.”
“And those other two losers . . .” Ray said.
“Didn’t get nearly enough time, in my mind. It must be hard to deal with the anger,” I said.
Franny nodded. “We meet with Father Moran every week. We’re trying to work our way to forgiveness, because if you don’t forgive, the fury will destroy you and all the relationships you have.”
“I believe you’re right. Well, I’ll let you get to your meal.”
My mom and Grandma Sylvia were bringing lunch, then staying to babysit while Shannon and I went to the Silver Rae Dawson Memorial Gardens dedication ceremony at two. I didn’t ask the Dawsons if they were attending. I hoped so, but understood if they couldn’t.
After the lunch of Grandma’s chicken and potato salad, I was delegated to changing Henry’s diaper while my mother changed Lucy’s. We’d put two changing tables in the guest room downstairs. The babies were two months now and their legs were chubby with folds. They cooed and smiled when you talked to them in silly voices. My mom had finished diapering Lucy, who was lying perfectly still and smiling at her as Mom made weird clucking noises.
“It’s so much fun to have a girl in the family,” she said. “And Henry looks so much like you and Hank did as babies.”
“Tell me, was it different with Hank and me?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I first saw the babies it was like instant love. I never knew I could love something so much. But with Shannon’s boys, my love grew more slowly.”
“Are you asking if I loved Hank more than you because you weren’t my natural child?”
“Yes.”
“It was love at first sight when I saw you, Cal. When Grace gave birth, I was so jealous. I’d been trying to conceive for months and it wasn’t happening and here she turns up pregnant. Secretly, I was thrilled she couldn’t handle motherhood.”
Henry squirmed as I attempted to fasten the first tape. “Hey little man, don’t make this so hard for your old man.”
“Switch with me,” Mom said, as she expertly took over. “Thank you for letting me be so involved in your children’s lives—even though I sense you’re still mad at me. Cal, I wish I could undo my mistakes.”
“No one can.”
“I love you, son. Please forgive me.”
And even though I wasn’t sure I ever could, I said, “I have.”
I hoped saying it aloud would help the process along, because I didn’t like the anger simmering inside. The Dawsons were right, fury does eat you up. If they could work toward forgiving Parker, Sawyer, and Lucky, then I should be able to do the same for my mother . . . and myself.
We were each holding a baby when she moved us into a group hug. Henry started fussing and Lucy joined him. When we got back to the great room, Shannon handed us each a bottle.
Luke walked into the room and asked, “Hey, Dad. Can I feed him?”
Shannon flashed a surprised look. As I placed Luke’s little brother into his arms, tears welled in my eyes. That was the first time Luke had called me “Dad.”
By one forty the Twinkies were down for afternoon naps, and Shannon and I were ready to leave for the ceremony. Colby was at the Kohler’s playing with Teddy and Luke was in the backyard with Bullet. As I walked by Luke, I kissed the top of his head and said, “See you later, son. When we get home, want to go out to the driving range with me?”
“Okay.”
He’d been hard to win over, and maybe the process wasn’t complete, but his calling me “Dad” was huge for me.
By the time we arrived at Lake Emmaline, cars were already parked all the way to the county road. I turned around and parked the Pilot toward town for easy departure. Shannon and I began the walk into the park where we saw the new four-by-six-foot sign at the entrance. Daisies were skillfully carved as a border for the words “Silver Rae Dawson Memorial Gardens.”
We continued making our way through the hundred or more people already assembled throughout the curved sidewalks separating the gardens into five asymmetrical sections. Several deputies in uniform were standing with Sheriff Clinton and the mayor. I spotted Jim and Patty Summers and their two sons, Father Moran, Laurel and Jonah Wolfson, and Jenny and Brian Deitz. As I suspected, there were no representatives from the Gage or Holmgren families. I had heard Bentley and Lillian Gage put their house on the market and moved to Duluth while Wendy moved to Florida to be near her parents.
We walked to the location where Silver’s remains were discovered. Benches bordered three sides of the oval space, and in the center was a large rectangular stained glass piece placed upright. The background was a sun with rays, a silver cloud in one corner. In the very center was a silver hummingbird hovering above a daisy. The cloud and the bird shimmered when the sun hit it just right. Flowers planted in the space, but not yet blooming, bordered the centerpiece.
“Hi,” I heard someone say. I turned to see Maddie Mitchell edging toward us. Her family was with her.
“You’ve done a beautiful job with the gardens,” I said.
“Thanks. Ellie Dawson helped me with the plans. She’s supposed to be coming. Have you seen her?”
I scanned the crowd. “No, but hard to see people in this crowd.”
“I’m so pleased with the turnout.”
“The glass piece is perfect,” Shannon said.
“You must know why the Dawson’s chose the name Silver Rae,” I said.
“Yes, the Dawsons considered her their ray of sunshine and a silver lining in a dark cloud.”
“Yes. And then they lost her so young,” Shannon said. “I can’t imagine their pain.”
“Although I have no kids of my own, my heart aches whenever I’m here. I knew it was the same for Adriana—that’s why I offered to buy her lot back.”
“Maybe when everything’s in full bloom it’ll feel more joyful,” Shannon said.
“Hopefully. Well, it’s after two. I suppose we should start,” Maddie said as she searched the crowd, most likely for Ellie.
And then her face lit up. I looked to see why. The crowd had parted for Ellie, who was walking arm and arm with Franny and Ray Dawson; their extended family trailed behind. I recognized many from the day they had come to visit the site for the first time. As Franny Dawson passed by Maddie, she said, “Silver Rae would be so pleased. Thank you.”
Maddie handed the microphone to me and I stepped up on a small platform. “Good afternoon. My name is Deputy Cal Sheehan. I was given the privilege of welcoming you to this dedication ceremony of a park that is a tribute to a young woman I never had the good fortune to meet. In the course of investigating her death, I learned Silver Rae Dawson was a remarkable young woman, one who loved her family and friends deeply, and maybe even more importantly, befriended and accepted everyone. Silver Rae Dawson, you are still loved and missed. Your memory will live on forever.”
I stepped down and handed off the microphone to Maddie. I thought about all the casualties of the poor decisions made on that July day in 1997. Decisions that created tremendous pain for many families. Mistakes will be made, but if even one of t
hose three had just done the right thing way back then, so many lives would have played out so differently.
I took Shannon’s hand and she smiled up at me.
When we got home, my mom and grandma were sitting on the front porch holding the babies, who were both sleeping soundly. Shannon and I took the empty chairs and joined them.
“You’re spoiling them,” Shannon said.
“It’s our job,” my mother said.
Our boys rode by on their bikes and waved at us. I smiled at the sight of my family. Life was good.
“We should use this porch more,” Shannon said. “We usually sit on the deck in the back of the house for privacy, but it’s really nice out here.”
Henry woke and started fussing, so Shannon picked him up and went inside. I sat with my mom and grandma. As I enjoyed the spring breeze, the scent of apple blossoms in the air, I caught a glare from the front step. I got up to look.
My heart skipped a beat. The tops of the steps were painted silver. I was instantaneously awash in anger and fear. I had no idea when this had happened. I stood on the silver step and looked up and down the street.
Oh, I don’t think you want to mess with my family, Victoria.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Tim, Stacy, and Shawn.
To my extended-family members and friends for the encouragement and support throughout my writing endeavors.
To Diane Vandersall, Dr. Duane Evans, Curtis Smith, Drs. Nick and Sarah Caven, and Debbie Russell for their expert help and advice.
And of course, to the North Star family: Corinne, Anne, and Curtis.