Several of the motel guests came into the parking lot, and one ran up to Mabel’s front door. “You all right in there?”
Mabel made her way to the front door and opened it, shaking. “Carlos! Did you see who it was?”
“I couldn’t make it out,” Carlos said. “Did they fire a weapon at your home? And with kids inside?! Those sons-a-bitches,” he growled. Then he noticed Kerry and the terrified boys staring out from the kitchen. “Oh, pardon for cussing, Mabel.”
“No, sons of bitches is right,” Mabel replied. “Carlos, go rally your men outside.”
Mabel then went back to the kitchen and told Kerry, “Take the boys upstairs.”
Kerry nodded, white-faced, as Hector asked, “Mom, can I come with you?”
Mabel held his face gently and said, “No. Stay with Kerry.” Then she whispered in his ear. “Protect the family. I need a strong man up there.”
Hector wiped away his tears and nodded with pride. She grabbed her boys and Kerry at once and they hugged each other very tightly, and though Fred was still crying, Mabel said, “I love you all. Now go.” And then Kerry and Hector guided the terrified Fred up.
Mabel watched them go all the way into Kerry’s bedroom and shut the door, then closed her eyes, feeling ill from how close the bullets had come, and with her motel guests milling about outside, she steeled herself to address them and went out on the porch.
“Boys!” Her commanding voice silenced the dull chatter of the men. “Some of Larson’s men did this. I think I know the ones. Can you do me a favor? Protect my ch-children.” Her voice cracked from raw emotion, but Mabel kept her back straight.
Several men immediately offered to park their trucks in front of her house. Carlos even said he would spend the night in his truck to keep watch.
Mabel thanked them all and left Carlos to organize things. And though Dan was on his way, he wasn’t enough. The State Police needed to get involved — not only with the shooting but also with the drugs out on Don Sigmundson’s farm.
If Larson wanted a fight, she thought, he got one. She went back to the kitchen and dialed the phone.
“911 Emergency,” a woman answered.
“I’m reporting a shooting at my home,” Mabel said, nearly losing her composure. “They smashed a window, and my kids were almost shot. I’m also reporting who did it — a man named Don Sigmundson and his cronies living out near Parker’s Ridge. They run a drug farm, too. Yes… I’m aware. You better bring a number of officers in. I know one of the thugs is armed. Yes, I’ll stay on the line.”
Sheriff Dan’s cruiser, with its red and blue lights flashing in the night, barreled down the highway toward her home. When he drove in, her motel guests blocked his path, forcing him to stop at a distance.
The operator came back on the line, and Mabel answered a few more questions and gave the farm’s address. Then she hung up and went to talk to Dan.
“Dan! Those skinheads shot up my house. With my children inside!”
“Why did they target you?” Dan asked, lumbering up breathless and looking as grim as Mabel had ever seen. Rarely did Larson’s men target regular citizens, which allowed Dan to look the other way when Larson went after other gangs or rival dealers. This would change all that. “What’s going on?”
“I went over to one of Larson’s farms today,” Mabel said. “To get evidence. And I got it.”
“Jesus!” The Sheriff wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Mabel, are you nuts?! These guys don’t fool around.”
“Neither do I.”
“Really?” Dan asked rhetorically, getting worked up. “Really?! You’re putting your life in danger for that Winston boy. He’s not worth it!”
“Yes, he is!” Mabel said, equally as vehement. “And if you don’t see all the harm Larson is doing, I’m going to take care of it myself.”
“Oh, my God! Listen to you. And what about your kids? If he comes here again…”
Mabel folded her arms, defiant. But his words scared her.
Dan sensed it and tried to reason with her. “For God’s sakes, Mabel. They shot at your house with your kids inside. That’s how serious they are. Just leave it be.” Then he looked around at the mine crews milling about in the dark. Mabel could tell the wheels were turning in his mind like he was trying to figure out how to bring back the truce between Larson’s gang and the community. “Now look,” Dan said. “Here’s what is going to happen. I’m going to talk to Larson. Tonight. I’m going to tell him you’re going to drop this thing with Winston and targeting his boys as suspects. I think he’ll listen. He knows if he takes it too far, it’s going to get too big and—”
“I already took care of it,” Mabel interrupted him. “I called the State Police, and they’re going to come out and arrest Don Sigmundson and his gang. They’re the ones that did this.”
Dan dug his fingertips into his temples like he was trying to stop a raging headache. “Oh, Jesus. You called the Staties?”
Mabel nodded.
“Those Staties—” He paused, trying to control his anger and disbelief. “You know some of them officers are on Larson’s payroll, right? You didn’t give your name, did you?”
“Well, I… Yes.”
The Sheriff screwed his eyes shut before glaring at her. “Jesus. Now Larson will know you reported one of his farms. Don’t you understand? He’ll be furious. This isn’t some game.”
“This isn’t a game for me, Dan. He came after my kids.”
“He’ll do worse than that—” Dan stopped talking to tamp down his anger and think things through. “Okay. The Staties are going to take some time getting out here. You go inside and let me handle this.”
“His men shot bullets into my house, Dan!” Mabel pleaded, near tears.
“I know. I’m going to do my best to straighten this out, but you’ve got to drop this Winston thing. Go inside, and I’ll take care of it.”
Mabel went, but she wasn’t too happy about it, and in no way would she let Dan decide what she could or couldn’t do. As she marched up her porch steps, her resolve hardened; if neither the State Police nor Dan would do something about it, she would. With one last card to play, she went to the kitchen and dialed a number.
The phone rang nearly eight times before it was answered. “Arronson,” he said, sounding tired.
“It’s Mabel,” she said. “I’ve got some news for you.”
To her surprise, Lavi’s voice was suddenly furious. “I don’t care. I thought you were some detective. Now I learn you’re just some waitress who owns a diner and motel in Blue River. Do you know I could get in trouble with the State Bar for sharing sensitive information on a case?! I don’t care what you heard or what you know, you’ve put me in a really bad spot.”
“You just hold up yourself, Lavi,” she said sternly. If Lavi expected she’d fold, he was dead wrong. “First of all, I did not say that I was a detective. That was on you. Second, you have not been doing your client any favors trying to make an innocent man plead a deal. And third, I have been out gathering evidence and got those DNA samples that you and those priceless detectives should have done, and now my house has been shot up by some skinheads.”
“What?!”
“Yes,” Mabel went on. “And one of those skinheads is Don Sigmundson, and that’s who I think murdered Karen.” Then she went on to describe why she suspected him and the threat made at the farm. “Now that I’ve called the State Police, they’ll go over to his camper and search for evidence, maybe find the knife that was used. And now you’ll have a new suspect thanks to me. There!”
After a moment of silence, the irritation was back in Lavi’s voice. “Mabel, none of that is admissible. Even if the police go over to his farm and look for the weapon that shot your house, they can’t simply do a blanket search related to the Karen Thompson murder. They can only get a specific warrant on what is probable. Any self-respecting judge would toss it out. At best, you can get him for shooting up your house, but the murder angle is pus
hing it.” He sighed. “I should have stuck with the deal.”
“But I have the evidence.”
“I just told you! The police can’t use anything they find.”
“No, I got it before.”
Then she explained her ruse about the draw prize.
Lavi heard her out. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “You got all that?” Another pause, then: “When can you get that to me?”
“I can drive it up tomorrow morning, first thing.”
“Okay, I can use that. But you need to do something for me. You can’t be a witness on this case who’s trying to solve a crime. That’ll get me disbarred.” He thought about it some more. “Here’s what you do. Get a PI license.”
“A what?”
“You heard me. I know someone who owns a registry, and he owes me some favors. Come up to Seattle tomorrow. He’ll register you with a private investigator’s license. It’ll be temporary but good enough. How much do you charge?”
“What? I don’t understand?”
“You need a PI license, and I need to pay you.”
“But I don’t need money. I have my own business.”
“That’s not the point,” Lavi said. “I have to pay you to be legitimate. Does two hundred a week sound fair?”
“I-I-I don’t know.”
“Well, it isn’t. It’s cheap,” Lavi said. “I’ll make it three hundred. Most of the good ones charge that. You need to invoice me as well.”
“Oh, dear,” Mabel said. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“It means you are now officially a private detective under my employment. I can now share information with you relevant to the case. Any information you collect can be collected and processed through my office. So bring those samples to me and get that license and start getting as much additional information as you can about Don and any other characters and send it my way. The trial begins in three weeks, and we need to get moving on this. Any questions?
Mabel held her hand to her forehead, her head spinning with all that had happened tonight.
“Good,” Lavi continued. “Now, you go look after your family. And Mabel?”
“Yes?” she asked weakly.
“Welcome to the private detective business.”
CHAPTER 31
Thursday, October 23
Two days later, the State Police had just finished up their interview with Mabel, and while she had the politeness to serve them pie and coffee, she was furious. The State Police had not even shown up at the Larson farm till early this morning without a warrant. And without it, they couldn’t search the farm, or so they told her. Mabel thought it was all BS, but she held her tongue. She respected the law, and they were its representatives and should be afforded some courtesy and a slice of pie.
When they left, the house was quiet. The kids were all at school, and its emptiness made her reflect again on how close they’d been to getting shot or killed. The silence reminded her of what it was like taking Kerry back to her dead parents’ place after her mom’s funeral. How all the life it once had was gone and would never come back — no laughter, tears, yelling, nothing. A home is meant to be full of sound. It meant your family was there and thriving. This emptiness she did not like.
Through the taped, bullet-scarred window, she watched Sheriff Dan’s cruiser pull in. Though everyone knew who was ultimately responsible for the drive-by shooting, Dan had made no arrests.
She hadn’t expected much from him but wished he would have done more. It was time someone stood up to Larson, so she would tear a strip off Dan again to get him to do it.
She went out to the porch and waited for him to get out, waving once to Carlos sitting in his truck, keeping watch over her place. For the past two days, Carlos’ mine crews had been taking shifts parked in front of Mabel’s house and yard. None of Larson’s men had returned, though there’d been at least one suspicious vehicle loitering on the far side of the highway. When Carlos went to confront the driver, it had pulled away. If Larson’s men were thinking of returning, they had these construction workers to deal with now. As she had told Sally, “Arming a man with a gun ain’t enough to give a coward courage.”
When Dan got out, he didn’t walk up immediately but instead opened his cruiser’s back door to let a young boy out. It was Hector — a glum, embarrassed Hector, by the looks of it. Mabel’s heart fell. Hector had his arms crossed and moved only when Dan directed him to. As they drew close, Dan tipped his hat to Mabel and propelled Hector toward her.
Dan said to the boy, “You got something to say to your ma?”
Hector stood mute, angry, and scared.
“Speak up,” Dan prompted as Mabel added just as sternly, “The Sheriff asked you a question.”
Hector whispered, “I got in trouble.” He fidgeted a bit, then continued. “And I broke a window.”
“You broke several windows. And you shot up some mailboxes too,” Dan said.
“What!?”
Dan nodded to Mabel. “The Hudgens boys reported their gun stolen. Said Hector took it. Shot up some mailboxes. Then they saw him throw rocks at a neighbor’s window. Broke three panes. A couple of other homes too.”
“That’s a lie!” Hector shouted.
Mabel dragged him closer by the collar. “Don’t you dare say the Sheriff is lying!”
Hector burst into tears and sobbed, “No. Not him. Isaiah and Jacob. They told me to break the windows. And they gave me that gun to shoot those boxes!”
Mabel’s heart ached for her son at the thought of Frank using his boys to make an example of Hector. “Are you hurt?” she asked, patting him down. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
Hector shook his head, wiping away tears, and so Mabel pulled him in for a hug and whispered into the top of his head, “We’re going to be talking about this. Those Hudgens boys are not good for you.”
Hector started to cry. “I know. They’re liars. They told me to do it.”
Mabel kept rubbing his back gently and then looked over at the Sheriff, who glanced away. She eased down on one knee to look into the face of her scared, hurt little boy, and give him a soft smile.
“You’re not mad?”
Mabel wiped his cheeks. “No. I am not mad. Not at you. But we are going to talk about what you did. You shouldn’t hang out with those Hudgens boys in the first place, and doing what they ask of you is just plain foolishness. You’re not a follower, son. You are a leader. But they took advantage of you, that I’m sure.” She kissed him on the forehead. “You go into the kitchen, so I can talk to the Sheriff. But don’t think you got off just now. There is going to be punishment for breaking windows. We’re going to have to pay those families back and apologize.”
“Ahhh, mom,” Hector pleaded.
“This is a moment to remember, Hector. You did wrong, and you’re going to have to do right again. Now get.” She tapped his bottom to get him going. She glanced at Dan and then stood up straight. Sadness, anger, and guilt coursed through her at once. She had a diner shift to get back to, but it looked like she would have to cancel it.
“I warned ya,” Dan said. “I hate to say it, but I warned ya.”
“I know you did. But they’re coming after my kids now.”
Dan examined her before he took off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “I talked to Larson.”
“When? Before those Hudgens boys did this? You know they didn’t think of it themselves. That was Frank. Or even Larson.”
“Talked to Frank too. He wants charges laid.”
Mabel scoffed. But when the Sherriff didn’t react, it scared her. She asked, “But you’re not going to. Are you?”
The Sheriff grimaced before he put his hat back on. “No, Mabel. I’m not going to charge your boy. I told Frank to give it up. Said you’re going to pay for it all.”
“Thank you, Dan,” Mabel mouthed, tears of shame and relief coming to her eyes.
“Look,” Dan relented. “I agree with you. You and I both know who’s doin
g this. Larson is right pissed because you’re putting his operation at risk. Keep this damn foolishness up, and you won’t be no civilian to his drug business no more. You’ll be a thorn in his side. You don’t want that. You’re hurtin’ his profits.”
“He’s destroying this community.”
“No. He’s invested a lot in this community. Owns part of the mill, most of the farms, the gas station. He employs a lot of people here — good families who need the paychecks. Besides most of the—” He stopped, glanced around, and then whispered the rest “—drugs he makes he sells in the big cities, not here. And from what I can tell, he hasn’t moved too much into the harder stuff either, which is good for all of us.”
“Did you just hear yourself talk?!” Mabel said, furious. “You’re the law. And you’re turning a blind eye to his drug dealings?!”
Dan growled back, “I’m trying to protect our community. You think one person can stop a man like Larson? He’s got the Staties in his back pocket.” He rubbed the back of his head to calm himself down and almost pleaded with her. “Look. It’s not easy here, Mabel. Sometimes it’s only me between you folks and him. You need to know that I’m trying here.”
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Mabel said, sighing. “I know you’re well-meaning.” Then she broke down with emotion. “And I know what you just did for Hector.”
She came down the steps and gave him a hug.
“You can’t be hugging no sheriff,” he protested but didn’t resist too strongly and then, in the end, gave her a little hug back. “Mabel, you need to look after your motel and diner, and your kids. You’re a pillar of this community. Someone special here. I don’t want to lose you. I made sure Larson knows that. But I can’t keep stopping him if you get into his business. I warned him I’d also stop turning a blind eye if he goes after civilians, but you get into his business, you’re not a civilian. Get it?”
Mabel nodded, gathering her emotions as she started to think it through. Dan could only do so much. She needed to go directly to the boss instead. She needed to talk to Larson — in person. Looking at Dan now, she felt sorry for him. He wasn’t brave, he wasn’t ambitious, but he was still a good man, and she appreciated him.
Heart of a Runaway Girl Page 15