“What will they do to the person who took Maren when they find him?” Steve wanted to know.
“Well, first they will arrest him, and then they’ll formally charge him with the crime. A judge will determine if he can be let out of jail until his trial. A jury will have to decide if he’s guilty, and if he is, he’ll either go to a prison or to an institution for a long time, maybe forever.”
Steve blurted out, “I hate whoever did this. I hope somebody kills him.”
Deidre was shocked by the honesty of that statement. “I know. Sometimes I think the same thing. But if he’s killed, that won’t bring Maren back to us. You know, boys, there is a fine line between vengeance and justice.”
As she made that statement, a vivid image entered her mind. It was of the day she had held her service pistol against the side of the head of the man who had murdered her fiancé, John. When she thought of it, she could still feel the pressure of her finger on the gun’s trigger as she began to squeeze it. She could hear her partner saying, “Deidre, don’t do it.” Now here she was talking to her sons about the difference between vengeance and justice, and she realized if she had pulled that trigger, her life would have been ruined. She would be in prison for murder, and the joy of having a family would have been nothing more than a dream.
“The law will take care of the person responsible. Let’s trust the law.”
The evening was pretty much ruined, and everyone turned in early, each mulling over the conversation in their mind.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
DEIDRE WONDERED WHO WOULD be calling at seven thirty in the morning and was surprised to see Jeff’s name on her caller ID. Every time she saw his name come up, she felt a surge of anticipation. Today was no different.
“Hi, Jeff. What’s up?”
She listened intently as he told her he had confirmed the identity of the wanderer who stayed at the hotel in Two Harbors, the place owned by the woman Deidre had spoken with the day before. She was surprised when he told her he was driving to the Cities to interview this person of interest and asked if she wanted to ride along. Her first impulse was to say yes, but then she had to consider her boys. Finally, she said no. After the conversation of the night before, Deidre knew that Steve and Jack were being affected by Maren’s absence more than she realized. It was time to put their emotional security ahead her curiosity. Jeff said he’d be back in Two Harbors by about five in the afternoon, and he would stop out so they could talk about what he had learned.
After Steve and Jack ate breakfast, Deidre suggested they drive to Duluth and visit Park Point, a long sand spit that jutted into Lake Superior. Many days during the middle of August its shallow water was warm enough to swim in. Deidre called Ben on her cell before he had time to begin his workday and made arrangements to meet for lunch. It would be a day of R and R for the family. At noon, they met Ben at a soup and sandwich place on First Street.
“Jeff called this morning,” she told him, before biting into her roast turkey deli sandwich.
Ben looked surprised. “What did he have to say?”
“He’s driving down to the Cities to interview that guy I told you about, the one who wandered into town carrying a pack. The one I told you stayed in a hotel for a few days in May.”
Ben stopped eating. “Did he say if he had any reason to think the guy is involved, or is it just a fishing trip?”
Deidre shook her head. “Just fishing, I think. He’s going to stop over around five today. If you can get away a little early, you can be there when he comes. Any chance?”
Their conversation continued in a casual, almost detached manner, and it struck Deidre that the tension of the night before seemed to have eased. The boys were busy gobbling the dessert they had ordered, and she thought they hadn’t been listening.
“Could this be the guy who took Maren?” Steve asked abruptly. The question took Deidre by surprise, but she answered.
“I think the chances are pretty slim, but we never know. That’s why Jeff is going to see him. We’ll know later today.”
“Can we be there when Jeff tells us what he found out?”
“Yes, you boys can be there.”
“Then I don’t want to go swimming. Let’s go home so we don’t miss him.”
Deidre reassured her son that they had plenty of time. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day, one of the rare times when the wind was from the west and not off the frigid lake. The sand would be soothing and the water comfortable, and she wanted some time to clear her mind. They finished their lunch in a half hour, Ben returned to his office, and she and the boys were on the beach by one. The sand felt better than she had expected as it worked its way between her toes.
*****
JEFF’S MIND WANDERED as he sped down I-35. The speed limit was seventy, but he was driving nearly eighty. Sometimes being sheriff had its perks. He found himself whistling to himself and thinking of his own children. Two were in college and the third would be a high school senior the coming fall. Retirement was only a year off and he imagined the things he and his wife, Danielle, would do with their free time. He gave little thought to the man he would meet in less than an hour. It was probably a wild goose chase, he surmised, but it was good to have an excuse to get out of town. His GPS led him to the address he had been given.
As he parked his vehicle in a lot across the street, he was surprised where the computer-generated voice had directed him. The address was an upscale office building, seven stories high, with polished glass doors. He rode the elevator to the top floor, where he found the office marked J.P. DAHLSTROM AND ASSOCIATES, P.A. SERVICES.
Jeff entered the waiting room of the business and introduced himself to the receptionist, who responded, “Is Mr. Dahlstrom expecting you?” Jeff said he was. “Why don’t you pour yourself a cup of coffee while you wait? I’ll tell Mr. Dahlstrom you’re here.”
Before Jeff could say “No, thank you,” he heard her announce over the office intercom, “Sheriff Jeff DeAngelo is here to see you, J.P.”
Jeff sat down and hadn’t had time to select a magazine from the pile on the end table when a tall, well-groomed man strode across the room and extended his hand.
“Sheriff DeAngelo, why don’t we go to my office where we can visit.” As he led the way, he turned to his receptionist. “Tammy, please hold all calls until we’re done.” Then they continued down the hall to his office.
Jeff was surprised at J.P.’s demeanor. If the man had any worries, he was doing a good job of covering them up. He offered Jeff a seat and took one facing him. Jeff looked at the polished walnut desk that held a few papers and thought if J.P. had wanted to play the superiority card, he could have sat behind that expanse of wood.
“So, Sheriff, when we spoke over the phone, you said you wanted to talk to me about the days I spent in Two Harbors last spring. What exactly do you want to know?”
Jeff was a little taken aback by J.P.’s directness. “I have some questions I’d like to ask you, Mr. Dahlstrom. I’d really appreciate if you will consent to answer them.”
“No problem,” J.P. answered. “And please, call me J.P. All my friends do.” He took a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. Jeff noticed it was steady, and J.P.’s eyes were looking straight at him.
“Were you in Two Harbors last May?”
“Yes, I was. What a great little town to visit.” J.P. smiled a disarming grin.
“Did you stay at the Lake Inn while you were there?”
“Yes. I like to patronize places like that to give the owners some business.”
“How long did you stay there?” Jeff was asking simple questions that were easily verifiable.
“Two nights and three days.” J.P. wasn’t wavering.
“Can I ask what you were doing in town? Frankly, I wasn’t expecting you to look like this. Reports were that you looked like a drifter when you came into town.”
J.P. laughed a relaxed laugh. “I suppose I did. Let me explain. My job here
is extremely stressful and my company had worked for months to secure a very large contract. By the time the deal was sealed, I was on the verge of a breakdown, quite literally. After seeing a shrink a half-dozen times, we worked out a plan where I’d take time off from the job and let my partner and our employees carry the ball. We decided I’d do something I’ve always wanted to do that didn’t involve being around people. I decided to hike the Superior Trail, the one that runs from just outside Duluth all the way to Grand Marais. Most people go in that direction. I decided to reverse the course, start in Grand Marais and head down the shore.”
J.P. stopped to take another drink of water, and Jeff waited.
“That trail is well over two hundred miles long, and I planned on making ten miles a day for twenty days. At first my goal was difficult to reach, but as I got in shape, I found I could do fifteen miles a day without pushing too hard. I got ahead of schedule. I wish I could tell you what I experienced.”
Jeff was genuinely interested in his story, but by now he was beginning to realize his trip to the Cities had been wasted. “I’d like to know what you discovered,” he found himself saying.
“Well, naturally, there’s the beauty beyond anything I had expected. But for me, being shut off from society was the most memorable part of the trip. I didn’t even take a cell phone, just a map. The solitude of the trail was exactly what I needed. I think I must have experienced what Indian boys did when they went off alone in the woods to fast and meditate. I’ve read that they would have visions that determined what their adult name would be. I don’t think I had a vision, but I discovered what is really important in my life: my family, my friends, my home. I realized my job is nothing more than a means of being able to enjoy all the things I love.” He paused. “It changed me.”
Jeff was silent for a bit. “Where did you go after you left town?”
“I started walking up Highway 2 to where the trail crosses, but a couple of guys stopped and asked if I needed a lift, and I took them up on their offer. They were good people.”
“You don’t happen to know their names, by any chance?” Jeff took out his notebook.
“I do. By that time I had hiked most of the trail and decided I was going to make some changes in my life. One change was to be interested in people I meet. So I asked them their names, what they did, about their families. Those kinds of things. One was Darin Thomas and the other called himself Sue-me Adolphson. I asked him what the heck kind of name that was, and he laughed. Said his dad was a lawyer, and all the kids had called him “Sue-me” because of it. I found out a lot of people in Two Harbors have crazy nicknames.” J.P. smiled and shook his head.
“I know both of them, at least know their dads. You’re right, they’re good kids. What did you do those days you were in town?”
“Nothing much. Spent a lot of time by the breakwater, looking at the lake, thinking. I visited the museum, walked out to that pie place a couple of miles from town, just kicked around. Had a beer at the local brewery, a pizza at that place downtown. Just pretty much rested up.”
“Did you ever get out to that fancy restaurant north out of town?”
J.P. thought a minute. “Oh, that place. No, I wasn’t dressed for that kind of atmosphere.” He laughed. “My clothes were clean by that time, but let’s say not fit for fine dining.”
“The owner of the motel said you had some pretty wicked scratches on your arms. Can you tell me how you got them?” Jeff waited for the answer, wondering if J.P. would stumble.
J.P. responded by pulling up his shirt sleeves, and Jeff could see the faint outline of scars.
“While I was on the trail a little north of Beaver Bay, I ran into a couple with a dog, a young black lab. I knelt to pet it, and like a lot of young dogs do, he rushed me in his exuberance. I put up my arms to fend him off, and he playfully pawed at me. God, he was strong. The owners were mortified, but I realized the dog was too full of energy to contain, and it was as much my fault as his for kneeling down without first letting him settle down. They gave me their card in case I needed medical treatment. Said they would pay for it. I think they were worried I was going to sue.” He reached into his desk and took out a card folder, extracted a business card, and handed it to Jeff, who made a point of copying down the name and address on the card.
Jeff watched J.P.’s eyes for a reaction, but all he did was nod his approval. He asked if J.P. had any knowledge of what had happened during the days he was in town, and J.P. said he didn’t.
“A very bright young lady disappeared and is presumed dead. She’s been missing for almost three months with no trace. You can understand why I’ve had to check into your past. I must say, your résumé is impressive and your record is spotless. I wanted to touch base with you, hear what you had to say. I’ll be checking with Sue-me and Darin, but I’m confident they’ll verify your statement.” Jeff stood to leave and J.P. put out his hand.
“I hope you catch a break on this case, Sheriff. I have a real difficult time with the abuse too many women suffer.”
As Jeff walked out of the building he was certain J.P. Dahlstrom had nothing to hide. But on the other hand, the man’s mannerisms were almost too friendly and inviting. He would certainly be following up with the boys who had picked up J.P.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
DEIDRE WAS SETTING the table for supper when Jeff pulled into the driveway. She stepped out onto the deck to meet him.
“Jeff. Thanks so much for stopping. We’ve been anxious to hear about your interview.” She stopped to yell for the boys.
“Steve, Jack, the sheriff is here.” Then she opened the door and shouted upstairs for Ben. When they were all seated on deck chairs, Jeff began.
“Folks, here’s the deal. Our happy wanderer turned out to be a very respectable and successful businessman who was up north for some R and R. He was hiking the Superior Trail and got ahead of schedule, so he decided to spend a couple of days in Two Harbors.”
Ben interrupted. “But the trail crosses the highway eight or ten miles out of town. Do you mean to tell us that he hiked that far just to spend time here? There’s not a heck of a lot to do in town. Sure, we love it, but wouldn’t somebody from the city run out of things to do after a half day?”
Jeff could sense that Ben was frustrated and grasping for answers. “I did a thorough check on him, and I’m convinced that he’s clean. One of my deputies found records of where he spent his time in Two Harbors. In addition to finding the hotel records, we were able to verify that he spent time at the historical museum and the lighthouse. Two people who gave him a ride remembered him. All his stories checked out. I know how badly you’d like closure, but I’m almost certain this is a dead end. By the way,” Jeff added. “Have you talked to Dave recently? I thought you might have told him about Dahlstrom.”
Deidre explained that Dave had recently moved to Duluth, and considering how upset he got every time there was news, she and Ben decided it would be best to not get his hopes up until they had something more concrete to report. “I don’t blame him for moving,” Deidre said. “He said the apartment held too many memories for him to be able to stay. I do feel bad, though. We’ve not had any contact with him for two weeks, and I’m sure when this is all over, we’ll lose touch. I’ll miss him.” Jeff left the meeting with their thanks for all he was doing. Ben, Deidre, and the boys sat still for several minutes, listening to the late summer sounds of crickets chirping and the call of nighthawks that soared overhead.
“I miss Maren,” Steve said, breaking the silence. “Is there any chance she is alive somewhere?”
Deidre knelt in front of him. “Until we know differently, there’s always a chance, always hope. We’ll just have to be patient and pray that we’ll get some answers soon.” She stroked her son’s hair while she thought, Our prayers have done nothing. Why did I even say that?
After several more minutes, they went inside, the boys to their rooms to read, Ben to the TV to watch the Minnesota T
wins play baseball, and Deidre to stare out the window as her flower garden disappeared in the dusk. Everyone harbored their own thoughts until Ben turned off the TV and announced he was going to bed. Deidre made plans to visit the women’s shelter the next day.
*****
THE BOYS HAD A SCHOOL orientation session, and Deidre dropped them off for the morning. She called ahead and made an appointment to speak with the director of the women’s shelter in Two Harbors, and at nine o’clock she was sitting in the reception area, waiting to meet Joan Woodard. A few minutes later Joan appeared from the hallway and invited her to come to her office.
Deidre was delighted to find the room cheerful and bright, and as she settled into an upholstered chair, she felt at ease. Joan started the conversation.
“You told me what you wanted to discuss, but I’m not sure I can be of much help. It’s been over two months, actually almost three, since Maren came to the shelter, and we only talked for a half hour or so. She impressed me with her questions and interest in women’s issues. She said she was writing a paper about why battered women stay with their partners and how they could break free.”
Deidre got right to the point. “That’s what confuses me. You said she told you she was working on a project for school, but as far as her father and I know, she wasn’t taking any classes. Do you remember where she said she was going to school?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Joan answered. “She said she was taking a class at the College of St. Scholastica. I clearly remember that, because I graduated from there. I asked if she knew of one of my favorite professors, and she said she didn’t. That confused me a little, because Dr. Green is the head of the department and is very involved with the program and its students.”
“Do you remember any of the questions Maren asked?” Deidre inquired, her forehead wrinkled and a confused tone to her voice.
An Iron Fist, Two Harbors Page 14