by Beth Solheim
"We stopped at the lodge to make sure you remembered to book our reservation for next summer. The manager said it was taken care of.” She squeezed Sadie's hand. “We can't thank you enough for your hospitality."
"Holy cats,” Sadie blurted as she looked into their car through the rear window. “Did you leave anything on the gift shop shelves?"
"You know my wife,” Gregg said. “She's always thinking of the grandkids. I bought a few things for them myself. I called my grandson and told him about that huge fish I caught. He insisted I bring him one of those yellow lures you sell in the bait shop so he could catch one, too."
Beaming, Erma said, “We've got eight grandchildren, you know. We have to treat them equally or we'd have a war on our hands."
"By the looks of it, you didn't forget anyone. Is your trunk full, too?” Sadie said.
Gregg patted his chest and Mr. Twister jumped into his arms. “The trunk's empty. We put everything in the back seat. That way the guy at the airport can load our stuff on his baggage cart and we don't have to worry about forgetting anything."
A voice from a few cabins away hailed the Pouliots. “Don't forget you promised to spend a couple of hours with us before you have to catch your plane. We've got some photos to show you."
Gregg looked at his watch. “Two hours. That's just about right. Do you mind if we leave the car here for a while?"
After the couple walked away, Sadie joined Lora on the swing and leaned into the gaunt woman's shoulder. “You did a wonderful thing saving that child's life yesterday."
"Anyone would have done it,” Lora said. “I heard that man say he witnessed a miracle. But all I did was swim out and pull that child to shore. His friends were too young to know what to do.” She shrugged. “Everybody panicked and just stood there. So I dove in."
"Did you ever think about what really makes miracles happen?” Sadie asked. “Since I've been a death coach, I've come to believe crossers have a big hand in making them happen. I'm not saying all miracles are crosser related, but I know for a fact some are."
Lora smiled in appreciation. “You have a way of making me look at things differently. If I could spend more time with you, I'd learn a lot."
"I know you don't like it when I preach at you, but I have a question."
"I've already lost Michael. I don't think any amount of preaching could make me feel any more miserable,” Lora said.
"You didn't think twice about saving that child's life.” Seeing Lora shrug again, Sadie said, “What puzzles me is why you insisted on forcing Michael to rejoin his father. That's a complete contradiction. You recognized when someone else's child was in danger, but you were willing to lead Michael right back into harm's way."
A teardrop rolled off Lora's cheek and settled on the back of her hand. “You're judging me when you don't understand."
"There's nothing to understand, Lora. Your husband was abusive and that pattern will continue. Why was Michael able to sort through that cloud of uncertainty, but you can't?” Sadie wiped at Lora's teardrop with her finger. “I don't mean to be unkind, but Michael appears to be the smart one in the family."
Rodney bounded up onto the porch. “You got that right. Lora's an idiot. No wonder her husband left without her."
"Zip it,” Sadie bit back. “I've had more than I can handle for one day. Go find someone else to bother."
"No can do,” Rodney said. He wrangled his way onto the swing between Lora and Sadie and put an arm around each of them.
"Then I'll go,” Sadie said, pulling herself from the swing.
"Me too,” Lora said.
Rodney reached across the swing and grabbed the wooden arm, thwarting Lora's attempt. “You're not going anywhere.” He ran his finger across the back of her neck and grinned. “When you gonna realize I might be a good catch? You know I've been thinking about you."
Slapping at his hand, she tried once again to get out of the swing. “Leave me alone. I don't want to have anything to do with you."
"Now there you go hurting my feelings again. A loser like you shouldn't be so fussy."
Lora crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the cabin next door.
"You can ignore me all you want. But I'm still taking you with me. I need somebody to take care of the mansion I'm going to build in the parallel world."
Lora squeezed her arms tighter. “Mansion? Just how do you think you're going to do that?"
"It's a secret.” He shifted his weight, leaned closer to Lora and buried his lips in her hair. “If you're nice, I might tell you."
"Do you spend all your time cooking up ways to make others miserable?” Lora leaned further into the wooden arm.
"I'm trying to get ahead in life."
"Life?” Lora said exaggerating the word. “Will you be alive in the parallel world? Will anyone?"
"Sadie thinks so. You heard her say there'll be some sort of life there. That's why we're given a second chance to better ourselves."
"So you think you're going to be rich if you go there? How do you intend to pull that off? You've never worked a day in your life. You were still living with your parents."
"Whoa, aren't you getting feisty. Full of piss and vinegar like my old lady.” Rodney grinned. “I like that in my women.” He set his heel firm against the porch floor forcing the swing to stop. “When I get my hands on what Theo's been trying to hide, I'm going to be rich."
"What does Theo have to do with it?"
"None of your damn business. But if you agree to go with me, I'll see to it you have everything you've ever wanted. Hell, I'll even let your brat live with us."
Lora turned toward Rodney and stared into his eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
He pulled a wad of fishing line from his pocket and held it under her chin. “I'm getting ready to go, so you'll have to make up your mind."
Lora took the fishing line and moved it around in her hands before looking at Rodney.
"Remember that dog I was going to put out of its misery? I've figured out a way to do it without using the rifle. It won't draw as much attention and will give me time to step into the light first. If I go first, I determine the path. I don't want to risk someone else choosing the alternative. Someone like you or Tim."
"I have no intention of following you into the light. Neither does Tim."
"We'll see,” Rodney said, dangling the wad of fishing line in front of Lora.
"What are you going to do, choke Sadie?” Lora said.
"No. And keep your voice down. She might hear you.” He looked toward the screen door. “That would attract too much attention, too. She'd put up a fuss and everyone would come running."
He rose from the swing and sat on the top porch step. Untangling the wad of fishing line, he stretched it out across the wooden decking. After folding the line in half to increase its strength, he tied one end around the bottom of the newel post and tugged on it to test the knot. “See? If I pull this tight, it's going to hit Sadie about ankle level. It'll trip her when she goes down the stairs.” Pointing toward the ground, he said, “If I calculated right, she'll take a header into the concrete."
"There's no guarantee it'll kill her. Plus she'll see you when you pull the fishing line. She's not blind, you know."
"Not if I'm under the porch,” Rodney said. “I've been under there experimenting with my timing and I think I've got it figured out. The line's transparent, so she shouldn't see it.” Holding up a pocket knife, he said, “Whether she dies or not, the line's going to disappear. If she doesn't die, I've got the rifle under the porch. And won't everyone be surprised to find out that the shot that killed Sadie came from that deputy's rifle?"
Rodney wrapped the transparent line once more around the post before tucking it under the step. He rejoined Lora on the swing. “Soon. It's going to happen soon."
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30
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"Do you really think Carl will
go along with it?” Jane said.
"It's worth a try,” Mr. Bakke said. “With the new evidence Sadie's got, he can't afford not to. If the man wants to win the election, he'll do it."
Sadie double-parked in front of the city's municipal building and opened the van door. She leaned back in the driver's seat and held her palm against the horn.
Looking up from a pile of overdue reports, Carl shouted, “What the hell is that racket?” When no one responded, he again raised his voice. “Angie? What the hell is going on out there?"
The dispatcher shielded the sun from her eyes and looked through the glass pane. “It looks like that weird lady from the resort. She's holding her hand on the horn."
Grabbing his cap from a hook near the door, Carl snugged it down over his head and raced from the building.
Sadie saw Carl coming toward the van and lifted her hand off the horn. As he walked in front of the car she had hemmed in by double-parking, she pressed down, holding the horn in place with her thumb.
"Are you completely out of your mind?” Carl shouted, covering his left ear with his hand. Carl pulled the door open, climbed up into the van, and yanked her hand from the steering wheel.
"You're a flipping weirdo.” His voice rose two notches higher and cracked as he lost control. “You should be locked up in the nut house.” His nostrils curled with the spiteful words rolling off his tongue. “My mother told me you were trouble. She'll be right there celebrating when I get the deed to the resort."
Tipping her head in thought, Sadie said, “I really don't think that's going to happen. But speaking of your mother, how is Oink Etta the Wonder Pig? I haven't seen her for quite some time."
"Leave my mother out of this,” Carl shouted. “This conversation is about you disturbing the peace."
Sadie displayed a toothy grin. “Well Carl, if you're in the mood to talk...” She rammed the door lever into the locked position and turned the key in the ignition.
"What the hell are you doing?” Sadie's foot slammed against the gas pedal. Carl grabbed the door post to brace himself.
"Taking you for a nice, long ride."
"The hell you are,” he said, dropping down into the stairwell and attempting to insert his fingers into the seal surrounding the door.
Sadie turned the steering wheel sharply, causing Carl to drop onto the top step. “Calm down, Carl. I'm not kidnapping you. I just want to talk to you. I don't want anyone to hear what I have to say."
"Let me out right now,” Carl said, “or I'll break this door with my foot."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. After you hear what I've got to say, I think you'll be singing a different ditty."
Sadie parked the van under a pine tree at Nordeen Point and opened the door. “Feel free to escape if you want. But if you do, I'll go to the newspaper about Richard's murder."
"Murder?” Carl said. “Murder? Richard wasn't murdered. He died when his car went off the road."
"The evidence proves different,” Sadie said. “The evidence points to cold blooded murder."
"You think someone planned to kill him? Are you crazy?"
Jutting her chin out and glaring at Carl, Sadie said, “You ask me that same question every time you see me. I'm going to settle it once and for all. The answer is no.” Enunciating slowly, Sadie said, “I am not crazy. Are you capable of understanding that?"
"You're as squirrelly as a two-peckered loon. Everyone knows that."
"Well then you better pay attention. Apparently only a crazy person is smart enough to figure out Richard was murdered.” Irritated that Carl turned his back on her and descended the steps, she raised her voice. “Richard was killed because he was about to go to the police."
Sadie detailed her suspicions and told him about the evidence she found at the Fossums'. Carl sank into the seat next to the door. He slowly shook his head from side to side in disbelief as Sadie continued to explain.
"You're telling me I'm supposed to believe you because you saw evidence on Richard's desk, but you don't have anything to show me?"
"You must not be listening,” Sadie said. “I told you I don't have anything to show you because that murdering partner of yours took it."
"Partner? Paul was Richard's partner, not mine."
"Oh you're his partner, all right. I had someone do some checking with the State and they found old partnership papers stating you're one of Paul's silent partners. So don't tell me you're not his partner."
"We formed that corporation years ago. I haven't had anything to do with it for over a decade.” Carl moved to the edge of his seat. He removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this story you're making up."
Slamming her fist against her leg, Sadie said, “I'm not making it up. I saw what I saw."
"Can anyone else verify your story?"
Throwing her head back with a moan, she said, “Noooo. I already told you that. Nobody can verify what I saw."
"Sounds to me like you don't have a case. If you're trying to involve me in this, you're wasting your time.” Carl grabbed the overhead support bar next to the door and stood up.
"You're going to be involved in this one way or another. I'm not finished yet. I'm here to barter with you."
"Really?” Carl droned in disbelief. “You don't have anything I want. Why would I barter with a dried up old hag like you?"
"If you want to become sheriff, you'll barter with me."
A throaty laugh spurted from Carl's lips. He lifted his cap and scratched his bald spot. “I'm already going to get the resort. So there's nothing else to talk about."
"You're not getting the resort. You're going to drop your lawsuit and settle for winning the election."
With mouth gaping, Carl craned his neck forward. “That confirms it. You are crazy.” Fidgeting with the brim of his cap, he said, “You really don't get it, do you? That resort belongs to me. If someone's been feeding you a line of bull about winning this lawsuit, you'd better face facts and prepare to move on. Next week you're losing title to the resort."
Sadie held her fingers out to admire the anchor decals she had applied to her nails. “I don't think so. Like I said before, if you won't barter with me, I'll take my information to the newspaper. You'll not only lose the resort, you'll also lose the election."
"Then you better do it. That way when you leave the resort, everyone will agree it was for the best. Half the town already knows you're crazy. If you go to the newspaper with that asinine story, it will confirm it for the other half."
"Going to the paper will make everyone adore me even more than they already do."
Carl puckered his lips and rolled his eyes. “Sure it will."
"When I tell everyone Lon helped me solve the case, maybe he'll be elected sheriff. Heaven knows he deserves it."
With a quick side glance, Carl said, “What does Lon have to do with this?"
"If you hadn't been so nasty over the years, maybe he wouldn't be so eager to prove it was murder."
Sadie beamed, tipped her head, and toyed with an anchor earring. “I haven't had this much fun in years. I've got you right where I want you. Actually, I've never wanted you. But seeing you this uncomfortable is better than sex."
"That's it,” Carl shouted. He pressed the call button on the speaker attached to his shoulder. “Angie? I'm on the east end of Nordeen Point. Send a cruiser to pick me up."
Static blared through the speaker as Angie said, “You're where?"
As Carl pressed the button to repeat his location, Sadie said, “The rim on Richard's tire has a bullet hole in it."
Carl released the button. “What?"
"Well not actually a bullet hole, but evidence a bullet struck the rim. Lon's friend towed the car from the junk yard to his garage and found an indentation on the rim. They went back to the scene of the accident and did a thorough search."
Thrilled that she had piqued Carl's curiosity, Sadie continued, “They searched th
e area this time as if it had been a crime scene. They gathered the rubber tire shreds you didn't even bother to look for."
Dropping down on the top step, Carl leaned his head against a support pole and closed his eyes.
"They tested the rubber shreds and found traces of lead fragments. And you know what else they found?” Sadie watched Carl's right eyelid pop open. “They used a metal detector and found some shell casings. Lon said they were able to match the casings and fragments to the type of rifle used to fire the shot."
Releasing a deep sigh, Carl stared straight ahead. “It's a Winchester .300 Win Mag, isn't it?"
Clapping her hands together, Sadie said, “Give that man a prize. Isn't it peculiar Paul owns the same type of rifle? Lon also told me it was the same type you use when you compete in contests. He even said Paul's rifle was in your possession more often than it was locked up in Paul's gun cabinet."
Grabbing the support bar and pulling on it, Carl said, “Now wait just a second. If you think I had something to do with Richard's murder, you're wrong. Dead wrong."
"Murder? You're admitting it was murder?” Sadie jabbed a finger toward him. “That's what I needed to hear.” Pointing toward the seat next to the passenger door, Sadie said, “Sit. Now we're going to barter."
Carl stared at his feet. “What do you want?"
Smoothing the fabric on her shorts and tugging at her shirt hem, Sadie wagged her head in contemplation. “Here's exactly what I want. If you drop the lawsuit against us, I won't go to the newspaper. I'll even let you be the hero for solving the case. That, of course, comes with the stipulation you stop harassing Lon. He didn't rough up that guy last summer, you did."
"I'm going to take credit for solving this case by myself,” Carl said, before Sadie could draw a breath and start her next sentence. “No one would ever believe you were capable of solving it."
"Lon's ready to back me up. He'll tell everyone I was the one who came forward with the proof and you failed to find the evidence. And don't forget you're Paul's partner. If Paul committed fraud, and if news gets out that you're in cahoots with him, you'll not only lose the election, you'll lose your job. You'll be named as an accessory."