“How, then, do you find?”
There was a pause as though she wanted to drag out the suspense, and almost reluctantly she answered, “Not guilty on all counts.” She didn’t look at anyone or let her face show any sign of emotion, simply sat down and stared straight ahead.
Jimmy slumped in his chair, his face buried in his hands. It was evident to everyone that he was so emotionally drained he was about to collapse. Deidre had had no inkling how much he suffered over being charged with murder, not to mention a hate crime. Finally, he gathered himself and gave T.J. a bear hug that Deidre feared was going to crush the smaller man’s ribs. Over and over, he kept repeating something in T.J.’s ear.
Judge Jesperson rapped his gavel to retain order in his courtroom. “James O’Brian, you are free to go on this charge. However, there is still another matter to be dealt with, your DWI.”
Before he could say another word, Jimmy, in his exuberance, blurted out, “Guilty, Your Honor. I’m guilty, and will accept whatever you say.” The judge almost smiled, but not quite, and T.J. tried to get Jimmy to sit down.
“Your Honor, I think my client may be just a bit overwhelmed by the verdict that has just been rendered and is in no state of mind to make a plea on the DWI charge.”
“Oh, no, Your Honor. I know what I’m saying. I’ll take responsibility for what I did.” T.J. couldn’t get him to shut up, no matter how hard he tugged at Jimmy’s sleeve. The judge cleared his throat.
“I’m sentencing you to time served in the county jail. I’m also sentencing you to attend a twenty-eight day inpatient treatment program for alcohol and drug abuse, to begin as soon as there is an opening at an approved treatment facility.”
Jimmy looked as though he were going to drop to his knees. “Oh, thank you Your Honor,” he said and wiped his eyes. As the courtroom cleared, T.J. looked at his client. “Why didn’t you let me bargain for you? I might have gotten you off even easier.”
“I’m sober now, T.J., maybe for the first time in two years. This was a real scare for me, and I’d have done almost anything the judge asked. He’s right, I need some help staying straight. How can I ever thank you for what you’ve done for me?” He clutched T.J.’s hand, not wanting to let go. Finally, T.J. extricated himself from the larger man’s grip and picked up his briefcase.
“Jimmy, I couldn’t let an old friend like you go down the tube. Stay in touch, man. Call me anytime you need someone to talk to.”
Deidre and T.J. left the courthouse together. “I had my doubts about this one,” he confided in her. “I thought the worst when I learned our sour-faced lady was the jury foreman, and I didn’t dare breathe until I heard the ‘Not guilty’ come from her mouth. She looked as though she really didn’t want to say the words, but evidently, the other jurors put some pressure on her. It was a good way to end the day.” He smiled. “But I’m afraid I haven’t any sleuthing for you to do, at least not right now. Any idea what you’ll do?”
Deidre stifled a laugh. “I’ve thought of retiring again, for the fourth time, I guess. I don’t know, T.J. Right now I’m sort of at loose ends, not really sure what I want. I suppose things will sift out, and I’ll find my direction.” They said goodbye, Deidre to go home and T.J. to return to his office. She felt a strange letdown now that the excitement and tension were gone.
*****
Deidre, Ben, Maren, and Megan got going early on the day of the Fourth, leaving home an hour before sunrise while the dew clung in droplets to the grass. Ben had loaded their canoe onto the car the night before, and Deidre had packed food for a shore lunch. One of the rules of the trip was that no electronics would be brought with. No games, no books, and most of all, no cell phones. The girls had grumbled a bit but were over their snit. On the way up Highway 2 they fell asleep in the backseat and Deidre rested her hand on Ben’s knee. As the eastern horizon became splashed with pink just before sunrise, she inhaled deeply and considered how lucky she was. She had a wonderful family, a husband who loved her and treated her like a queen, and life was more than good. She closed her eyes for a moment, she thought, but when she opened them, Ben had turned off the highway onto Spruce Road. They were nearly to the landing at Little Gabbro Lake.
As the four adventurers began the portage to the first lake in the Gabbro chain, she remembered the first time she had hiked the trail carrying a forty-five pound pack. That was in early summer, four years ago. Ben had proposed to her on that trip. Today, her pack was light. The girls were carrying most of the noon meal in their packs. Ben was carrying the canoe, and she, more or less, was able to walk unhindered and enjoy the scenery. She saw two brown animals scurry up a tree, and when she got closer, stopped to see what they were. The pine martins’ Teddy-bear-like faces peeked around the tree at her from their vantage point some twenty feet off the ground. She laughed out loud as they surveyed her with beady, black eyes. This was going to be a good day.
It took them only an hour to paddle the six miles to a place where Ben was well accustomed, a beach in a secluded bay where other paddlers seldom stopped. For some geological reason, which Deidre didn’t know, the sand was coarse and pink. Swimmers could wade out about five yards from shore, but then the bottom dropped off steeply, without any vegetation to tangle around their legs. It was a perfect swimming spot.
The four of them spent the day lolling around, sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade. They had cold sandwiches for lunch, along with fresh fruit. Ben had brought a water filter and he siphoned water from the lake, from which they made ready-mix lemonade. Later in the day, they built a small campfire and made s’mores. For supper, Deidre had packed brats and along with chips and lemonade, they had a feast in the wilderness. Their meal was topped off with an instant cherry cheesecake prepared in a Zip-lock plastic bag and poured into paper cups, the cracker crust being sprinkled on top rather than on the bottom.
At seven o’clock, Ben announced they’d have to get started, otherwise they wouldn’t make it back to the car in daylight. By the time they straggled into the parking lot, even their light packs felt heavy, and they guzzled down cold soft drinks that had been left on ice in a cooler in the car. The trip home was silent, everyone happy but too windburned and tired to talk. Deidre was right; it had been a good day.
Chapter Nineteen
Deidre unlocked the side door to their house while Ben carted the outdoors gear to the garage. Just as the door swung open she heard her cell phone ring and rushed to pick it up from the kitchen counter. “Hello, Deidre speaking,” she answered, a little out of breath. She hadn’t taken time to look at the caller ID and wondered who was calling so late at night. It was a little after ten o’clock by her estimation. There was a long pause.
“Deidre, this is Danielle.” She repeated her name, “Danielle DeAngelo,” as if Deidre wouldn’t recognize the name of one of her best friends.
“Danielle, what’s wrong?” Deidre answered, worry evident in her voice. Ben stood in the door, somewhat alarmed at the tone he heard.
“Deidre, can you come to the hospital right away? Jeff’s been shot. It doesn’t look good right now, although the doctors are being pretty tight-lipped. I just need somebody with me.” Deidre looked up at Ben and shook her head.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Ben will take care of everything at home. I’m leaving now.” She hung up the phone and grabbed the edge of the counter. “Jeff’s in the hospital. All Danielle said was that he’s been shot, and it’s serious. Hold down the fort while I go be with her. Kiss the girls goodnight for me. I don’t know when I’ll be home. Love you.” She kissed Ben on his cheek, raced to the car and sped out of the driveway, leaving a cloud of dust trailing her. Twelve minutes later she ran toward the ER doors of the hospital. She knew the place well.
“Oh, Danielle, I’m so sorry” she blurted out as Jeff’s wife rushed to her and threw her arms around Deidre. “
Can you tell me what happened?” Danielle was sobbing hysterically, and when she tried to talk, unintelligible sounds came out. Deidre led her down the hall to a waiting room/lounge reserved for families. A man was curled up in a chair, sleeping, but when the women entered, he roused, and seeing Danielle’s distress, he left them alone in the room. Deidre guided her friend to a sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand. She waited until Danielle could utter a few words.
“A highway trooper came to my door about an hour ago. He said he didn’t have any details, but that Jeff had been shot while he was investigating an incident north of Two Harbors.” She sobbed for a few seconds, then took a deep breath before continuing. “The trooper said Jeff was able to make an officer down call before he lost consciousness. One of his deputies was on his way to meet Jeff before he was hit. They were supposed to investigate a call together, but Jeff arrived at the scene first. Because the other officer was on his way, it may have saved Jeff’s life. He got there in seconds and was able to apply a compress to the wound.”
Danielle broke down again. “Deidre, what will I do if he dies?” she managed to squeak out between sobs. Deidre held her friend tightly as she rocked back and forth, praying a stilted prayer to herself and pleading with a God she really wasn’t sure about to spare Jeff’s life.
She was still holding Danielle when the ER doctor stepped into the room and sat in a chair next to the sofa. “Mrs. DeAngelo,” the doctor began, “we’ve been able to stop the bleeding and have transfused two units of blood. Your husband is quite stable at this time but isn’t out of the woods quite yet. He was shot in the lower back, near his spine. X-rays show that the bullet didn’t sever his spinal cord, but it came close enough to cause severe trauma. It did miss his kidney, although it pierced his colon in two places and injured his small intestine as it passed through his body. Fortunately, it missed his abdominal aorta by a couple of centimeters, otherwise he would have died almost instantly from loss of blood. There were other vessels severely damaged, but we’ve been able to clamp them off.
“We’re not equipped to handle such severe trauma at this hospital, and Life Flight from Duluth is on its way. Should be arriving any minute. Do you have someone who can drive you to Duluth?” Danielle turned her tear-swollen face to Deidre, and Deidre nodded without having to say a word. As the doctor stood to leave, they heard the whomp-whomp-whomp of the blades as the Life Flight helicopter alit in the parking lot. Deidre and Danielle were on their way to St. Luke’s Hospital in Duluth before Jeff was loaded into the flight, and as they left town, they could see the running lights of the helicopter disappear overhead as it headed southwest toward the bigger city.
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Jeff had been prepped and wheeled into a surgery suite. A hospital worker directed Deidre and Danielle to the surgery waiting room, where they sat side by side in silence, Deidre holding her friend’s hand. It was three in the morning when an obviously exhausted surgeon came to talk with them. Deidre noticed blood spatters on his surgical booties, and hoped Danielle hadn’t looked down.
“Mrs. DeAngelo, this might sound strange, but your husband is an extremely lucky man. Although the bullet did considerable damage, he is in serious but stable condition. We were able to repair his colon and small intestine with little loss of tissue. He’s missing about six inches of his bowel, and another four inches of small intestine, but he’ll do just fine without that. Both kidneys were spared, as were the blood vessels leading to and from them. Much of the damage was done to what we call the greater omentum, the tissue which holds the intestines in place. In the future, he’ll probably suffer adhesions which will have to be repaired, perhaps more than once in his lifetime. That’s where much of his blood loss came from, because no other major vessels were damaged. I wish all the news were that good, but there is one injury more serious than the others. The bullet passed very near his spine, and damaged several nerves that emanate from between the vertebrae. It clipped the right transverse process of his fourth lumbar vertebra, chipping off a piece. There was an amount of torque applied to the vertebra, and his spinal cord was badly bruised by the compression of the bullet’s passage. He shows no response in his legs, but we’re hopeful feeling will return and he will be able to walk again. I wish the news was all good, but there is hope. Unless an infection develops, your husband should make it.” The surgeon pushed himself out of the chair and patted Danielle’s shoulder as he walked past them.
Deidre wrapped her arms around her friend. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call? I’ll stay with you through the night, but I will have to get home some time.” Danielle wiped her nose and composed herself.
“I think I’ll be okay now. My folks are taking care of the kids, and they called Jeff’s parents. They should be here any minute.” She had barely gotten the words out when Jeff’s mom and dad rushed into the waiting room. They hurried to their daughter-in-law’s side, and Jeff’s mother took both her hands while his father placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, my dear Danielle. How are you? We met the surgeon in the hall, and he filled us in on Jeff’s condition. Thank God he’s going to live. Whatever else happens, we still have him with us.”
Danielle straightened her back. “You’re right. He’s still with us.” Then turning to Deidre she said, “Thank you, friend. I’m okay now. Go home to Ben. It’s going to be okay. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what’s happening. Thank you.” She squeezed Deidre tightly, and Deidre could feel her friend shaking, but she had to leave. There was nothing more she could do tonight.
It took forty minutes to drive home, and by the time she crawled into bed with Ben, she had mulled over too many scenarios of her late fiancé’s murder and her husband’s job with the FBI. She snuggled up to Ben, kissed his cheek, and he mumbled something in his sleep, then rolled over. Deidre fell asleep listening to his measured breathing and feeling his body next to hers.
*****
She had hardly fallen asleep when the alarm went off. Although the twins didn’t have anything going on, Ben had to go to work. At the first sound of the buzzer, Deidre’s eyes flew open, and for a second or two, she experienced the panic one does when awaking from a horrible nightmare. Then she realized last night had not been a nightmare. It had really happened. Ben was wide awake, too.
“How’s Jeff?” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Could be a lot worse,” Deidre tried to sound hopeful. “The surgeon was confident that he’ll pull through, but Jeff’s spine has been injured. They’re not sure how badly or how permanently. I thought I’d drive back to Duluth and spend some time with Danielle this morning.”
“How’s she holding up?” Ben asked, his eyes showing his concern.
“Like you’d expect, I suppose. Ben’s mom and dad got there just as I was leaving, so I think she had good support at the hospital. I want to find out what went wrong when Jeff was shot.”
They got out of bed at the same time, Deidre going downstairs to make a badly needed pot of coffee and Ben to the bathroom to get ready for work. Over a light breakfast, they discussed what they could do to help Jeff and Danielle over this hurdle.
Deidre set out a bowl of fruit and left a note for the girls. “I’ve gone to town for a bit. There’s cold cereal in the cupboard. Fix yourself toast to go with it, and have a glass of milk. And don’t skip a serving of fruit. I’ll call later. Love ya, Mom.”
Her mind flitted from one thought to another as she drove into town, and by the time she arrived at the Law Enforcement Center she was angry, dismayed, and confused, all at the same time. What was happening to her small town? She climbed the stairs to what had once been her office and now was Jeff’s, although it would be a long time before he sat behind his desk again, if ever. She was buzzed in by the dispatcher who sat behind a plate glass window. I’m glad they remember me, she thought as she walked into the sheriff’s office.
A group of people sat at the conference table, and she recognized three as deputies. Sig Swanson, the chief of police, was seated at one end of the table, and Deidre knew by name two other people, a man and a woman, in civilian clothes. They were members of the county board. No one was smiling. The councilman stood and extended his hand to Deidre, and she took his offer. He held her hand in both of his, and his eyes drooped in a sad way.
“Deidre, so good to see you. I’m sure you’re here to learn what you can about Jeff’s ambush.” Deidre was startled to hear that word, “ambush.” She wondered if there was anything a law enforcement officer feared more than to have someone lie in wait and then unexpectedly attack. “Please, sit down and join the conversation.” He pulled a chair out for Deidre.
No one said a thing, and finally, Deidre had to speak. “What do you mean, ‘ambush’? Can you fill me in, or is it too soon to let out any information?”
Sig cleared his throat. “We wouldn’t talk to just anyone, but if we can’t trust you, I guess there’s no one we can trust.” He began to tell what they knew. “For about a week or so, the department had been receiving calls at random times, reporting bogus incidents. They were all made from throwaway cell phones. After each call, the signal went dead, the phone probably having been tossed in the big lake or otherwise destroyed. One call asked that a deputy be dispatched to what was said to be a dog bite incident. When she got to the location, no one was around.
“Another caller reported an accident up Highway 3 by the Stewart River, but there was no accident. There were two or three other calls, but last night, a call came to Jeff’s personal phone from a person who claimed to be holding his own family hostage. He rambled on about some grievance or another with the government and said he was going to kill his wife and kids and himself if Jeff didn’t come talk to him immediately. He told Jeff where they were, gave him the fire number. Jeff called for backup and left town in a hurry. The fire number was for a driveway, but no buildings were on the site, only a tent pitched back off the road.
Preying in Two Harbors Page 10