Fear at First Glance

by Dave Balcom

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, and it might be better if I just drop it, enjoy the day with you and head on back to Oregon tomorrow.”

  She canted her head sideways, a move she often made when she was trying to figure out if I was teasing, being ironic, or serious. I saw the recognition in her eyes.

  “Something strange happened last night; you better tell me about it.”

  I pulled her into my arms and hugged her, rubbing her back and enjoying the feel, smell and actuality of her. After a few minutes I stepped back and told her about introducing Greg Blake to Paul Ralph. When I was finished, the room was silent. I listened, there was no sound. I longed for the ticking of a kitchen clock, but this place was all digital.

  “What’s that mean, Jim?”

  “No idea, but I’m no longer in doubt. I saw what I saw; it was real on both ends.

  “Recognition and fear?”

  “In a split second. At first glance.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What are you going to do with this conviction?”

  “What could I do?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll take it back to Oregon with me and wonder about it for the rest of my life.”

  She canted her head again and sent me that wistful smile of hers, “Or not...”

  CHAPTER 26

  Judy and I walked Sunday afternoon, and then we packed for the trip home. By sundown, I was on the phone with Miles Lawton in Cadillac.

  “Lunch tomorrow would be perfect!” He said, “Gail has the day off tomorrow, she would love to see you guys. When do you think you’d hit town?”

  “Pick a time and a place; we’ll be there.”

  “Because it’s you, and knowing how picky you are about cuisine, Gail picked our house. We’ll see you about 11.”

  “Can we bring anything?”

  “Just Jan’s favorite wine.”

  “That’ll be impossible...”

  “I know, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “See you in the morning, Miles.”

  He hung up and I sat there with my phone and thought about friends in far places and how lucky I have been to have so many.

  “Where’s lunch going to be?” Jan asked from the kitchen.

  “Chez Lawton,” I said in my best French accent.

  “I hope we’re not putting Gail out. Can we bring anything other than Jan’s favorite wine?”

  “You’ll no doubt think of something. What are you doing out there?”

  “I’m making a pie, if you need to know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, while you were walking with Judy, I found a whole bunch of raspberries that had been hit by the frost last night, and I remembered how good they taste if you find them quick enough. I found flour, butter, salt and a pie plate. I used a glass from the cupboard to roll out the crust; this looks like it’s going to work pretty well.”

  “Why a pie?”

  “I want to give it to Frannie in the morning.”

  I was silent, and she gave a bark of a laugh. “I’m making two; one big, one midget. You’ll have a taste.”

  “Sounds like fun...”

  We were up with the birds on Monday morning, and it was brisk again. When we saw the first signs of life in the main building, Jan took her pie and purse to settle up on any outstanding charges.

  She came back a few minutes later.

  “That’s strange,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “Fran and Greg aren’t there. There’s a woman I’ve never met handling the office. She said she’d been told we’d be checking out and after that she was told to button everything up and go home.”

  We loaded our dog and gear and headed out just after nine, and hit Cadillac just before 11, driving very slowly, stopping at points of interest such as the bridge over the Manistee River near Mesick.

  “So what’s so special about Hodenpyle Dam?” Jan asked.

  “No idea.”

  “But you had to stop and gawk?”

  “Always had to.”

  “Why?”

  “Tradition?”

  “You’re weird, Stanton.”

  “I am at that.”

  “No personal history? No tale of love or trout lost from your youth?”

  I shook my head sadly. “No, nothing. I’ve just always been enchanted by the name.”

  “Hodenpyle?”

  I nodded.

  “What’s it mean?”

  “No idea.”

  “You’re driving me crazy.”

  “I figure...”

  “What’s the matter?”

  I turned to her, put my hand on her arm, and looked right into her eyes, “I have no idea.”

  “But something is wrong, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, “I figure...”

  I had dawdled long enough that we pulled into the Lawton’s driveway at about a quarter to noon.

  As we climbed out of the Suburban, Miles came bounding down the steps from the front door. “I’m actually surprised to see you!”

  “Why?” I said. “We’re a bit late, but we dawdled a bit on the way down. You said 11:30.” I looked at my watch. “It’s only a few minutes...”

  “No, it’s not that, Jim. Hi, Jan! Gail’s waiting on you inside, wants your opinion on her soup.”

  I grabbed his arm, “What’s the matter, Miles? Why are you surprised to see us?”

  “You don’t usually run away from a mystery.”

  I had been standing half in and half out of my driver’s seat, “Mystery?”

  “One Paul Ralph of Torch Lake disappeared from his home shortly after rising at first light this morning.”

  I was stunned, but all I could think of was the fear that I’d seen the night before.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Did he wander off?” I asked.

  Miles was shaking his head, “No information on that, but I do know that his son, Anthony, was asking after you, but you’d already checked out and were on the road down here.”

  “They called you?”

  “No, we received a bulletin on the case in the normal course of the morning and your name was mentioned in the bulletin, so I called the Sheriff up there, Rick Bromwell...”

  “Bromwell? He’s still the sheriff up there?”

  “What do you know about that?”

  “I just heard the name last week about something that happened forty years ago or so...”

  “That would be Rick’s grandpa. Long line of Antrim County Sheriffs in that family, but Rick’s a good one. Served with the MSP – graduate of the academy – before getting himself elected up there.

  “Anyway, he told me that the Ralph son was asking about you. He asked to have you phone him when you arrived. I tried your cell, but...”

  “It’s roaming, I turned it off.”

  He was nodding, “I figured it was something like that. Come on, you can use the phone in my study.”

  Gail met me at the kitchen door with a smile and a hug, then she turned to Miles, “Sheriff Bromwell is on the phone wondering if you’d heard from the Stantons yet.”

  He led me into his study, and pointed at the phone on the desk. I picked it up and sat down in the chair facing his desk. “Jim Stanton here.”

  “Mr. Stanton, this is Rick Bromwell up in B’laire’,” he said. “I’ve been asked to locate you, and ask you to give Tony Ralph a call.”

  “What can you tell me about Paul Ralph,” I asked back.

  “Not much. He rose early, put the coffee on to perk, and then went out to walk around and check on things, something he does every morning. His wife heard him go out the front door, and then nothing more. Her day nurse came in at 7, and Mrs. Ralph was still in bed; she has trouble getting around...”

  “I know, but when did she realize Paul was gone?”

  “She was upset when the nurse arrived because he hadn’t come back in, brought coffee to her or the paper – that w
as their normal routine.”

  “When did she call you?”

  “Right away. We had a car there by 7:35; there was no trace of him, no evidence of a scuffle or fight, nothing; he just disappeared into thin air.

  “We’ve started a search on the lake, just in case he fell in or had a heart attack while out on the dock, that kind of thing, but so far, nothing.”

  “Neighbors?”

  “Well, there are none right near by; but we’ve interviewed everyone on that end of the road, and nobody heard or saw anything unusual.

  “Will you call Tony?”

  “Of course, hold a second.” I was looking for a piece of scratch paper or a pen. Miles, who had been sitting in his chair watching and listening opened the center drawer of the desk and handed me a notepad and a pen.

  “Go ahead with the number, Sheriff.”

  I read it back to him after writing it down, and confirmed that was the number. “He’s on his way up from Grand Rapids,” Bromwell said.

  I thanked him and we hung up.

  “You go ahead and call, Jim,” Miles said, “I’m going to alert Gail that lunch will be a little late...”

  “Hello,” Tony Ralph said. I could hear car noise in the background as I introduced myself.

  “Thanks for calling, Jim. I’m very concerned about my dad.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling the police?”

  He didn’t respond right away, and I just knew that there was something. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I needed to talk to you first.”

  “What about?”

  “My dad was pretty upset on Sunday; he’s not a moody guy, but he had a serious case of the blues going when Decker and I finally came alive Sunday afternoon.

  “That party went on for hours after you and Jan left, and we would have been stuck, but Alex doesn’t drink much ever and nothing that night; she was the designated driver.

  “Anyway, we started packing for the trip back to GR about 3 a.m., you know? Dad said he wanted to talk with me, but when I asked him the subject, he just said, ‘maybe nothing; maybe everything. We need to talk.’

  “I realized he wanted to be alone for some conversation, but that didn’t happen. By five we were on the road, and I realized I hadn’t made it happen. I planned on calling him today, and finding out what was going on...”

  “What did you want from me?”

  “Well, it was something he said, but then Tony Junior walked up, and Dad dropped it, something about you having seen it, but I have no idea what you may have seen. It was bothering him that you had... You have any idea what he was talking about?”

  I couldn’t answer, wondering if Paul had recognized my observation...

  “Jim?”

  “I’m sorry, Tony. I’m not sure what he might have meant by that. Did he give you any hint at when I would have ‘seen’ something?”

  “No; but he was pretty agitated. I could tell he’d been thinking about it all day while we slept. I can’t help but worry that somehow, if I’d sat down with him, if I’d taken the time...”

  “You can’t just beat yourself up about what you can’t control.”

  “Intellectually I know you’re right...”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “On 131, just south of Cadillac, why?”

  “I’m at Miles Lawton’s house; he’s an old friend of ours, lives out on Lake Mitchell. We’re going to have lunch here in a minute; why don’t you come out and join us?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...”

  I interrupted, “Of course you don’t; and neither does anyone else. I’d like to have a minute with you and no phone in between. Can you spare a guy half an hour?”

  “Hold a minute.”

  I listened and realized he was pulling off the road. “There,” he said, “give me the address, slowly; I’ll punch it into my router.”

  I gave it to him, and after a few seconds he said, “Perfect. I’ll be there in under 15 minutes.”

  I went to the kitchen and told Miles and Gail what I had done with their lunch plans.

  “Not a problem,” Gail said with a broad smile. “We have plenty of soup and bread.”

  Miles was nodding. “He could probably use a friendly group, and I’ll make sure that if anything’s breaking we’ll be in the immediate loop.” He walked back to his den, and I figured he’d make a call.

  I walked out to the curb just as a midnight blue BMW sedan cruised into the driveway. Tony popped out and walked to me with his hand outstretched. I took it and led him up to the back porch. Jan met him with a hug and introduced him to Gail who guided him to the table.

  “I’ll bet you’re starving.”

  “I could use a restroom,” Tony said sheepishly.

  “First door on the left,” she said pointing.

  About then Miles came from the other direction and watched Tony disappear down the hall.

  Gail busied herself around the stove, and when Tony came back she was placing a steaming bowl at his place at the table.

  I introduced Miles who shook hands and went straight to business, “I called Sheriff Bromwell, and he assured me he’d call if anything breaks up there.”

  Tony’s eyebrow arched at that news. “You law enforcement, Miles?”

  “State Police,” he acknowledged.

  “I met Miles at the time I met Jan,” I said. “He’s an investigator, and he worked on a case over in Mineral Valley at about that time.”

  “Actually, you could say I assisted Jim on that case,” Miles joked.

  “I had heard you were some kind of investigator,” Tony said to me. “Something to do with organized crime, I thought.”

  “I’ve had a brush with a criminal conspiracy,” I said, “but my work is writing fiction; I don’t look for real crime in my life.”

  “But he knows what to do with it when it shows up,” Jan said with a smile. “Don’t you, Jim?”

  “I’ve been very fortunate to surround myself with competent and eager professionals.”

  “I’d like to have you in my corner right now, Jim.”

  “Well, Tony, I think right now we should do justice to this lunch, and then, you, Miles, and I should have a quiet chat.”

  The lawyer didn’t have to have the final word. He dug into his lunch with a purpose.

  CHAPTER 28

  We were back in Miles’ office. He was behind his desk, Tony and I were in straight chairs on the other side.

  “Tony,” I said, looking at Miles, “I want to be absolutely clear that what I’m thinking and going to try to explain has no basis in fact, can’t be considered an accusation or even a theory about what might be going on with Paul right now; can you accept that?”

  The younger man looked back and forth at us, finally focusing on Miles. “Are you here in an official capacity or just a friend accommodating two friends who need a place to talk?”

  Miles took a deep breath and acted as if he were weighing the question. “I guess I’m never not in an official capacity. I’m a twenty-four-seven member of the State Police’s Investigative Bureau; I can’t have a time-out from that duty.

  “Having said that, however, I’m not the guy who’s asking the questions or calling for this discussion. My role at this point is host. I’ve known Jim Stanton to be a reliable investigator, conscientious observer, and spot-on analyst of those observations. He may well have something to say here that would change my role completely; I’d like to hear it.”

  Tony seemed to be analyzing Mile’s speech, “Me too.” Turning to me, he said, “Let’s hear it, Jim.”

  So I set the stage at the reunion banquet, my finding his mother boxed into the crowd and his father’s finding us a bit later, and then how Greg Blake had come over, and the looks of fear and recognition that passed between them in the time it took to shake a hand.

  “You think my father was afraid of Mr. Blake?” He asked.

  “I saw the fear, but just in a flash. It was gone as if it had never been t
here; same with the look of recognition I saw in Greg’s eyes.

  “I think they’d known each other before; perhaps when they were younger...”

  “Blake married the Willard woman, Francine, right?” Tony said as he searched his memory, “He’s older than her, but not by much; she’s older than I am, but again, not by much. What do you figure?”

  “He’s fifty-eight,” I said, “based on what I heard from him. You guys are fifty-two; Frannie’s fifty-five. Your dad’s what?”

  “Seventy-five.”

  “How could their paths have ever crossed?” I asked. “Greg grew up downstate. Your Dad did, too, didn’t he?”

  “Suburban Detroit, went off to Michigan and Michigan Law, then went back to Detroit.”

  “He was a lawyer?”

  “Yes. Criminal Defense practice, but it became too much for him. Those were pretty rough times in Detroit, the late ’60s and early ’70s. He decided to give up the law. Then they decided to move me out of that environment, and we chose Stoney and the store.”

  “That’s a pretty radical decision,” Miles said quietly. “Criminal defense is very lucrative compared to shopkeeping.”

  “They had some money to invest in the store, and I don’t think they were ever sorry. After I moved out, they sold the store and focused on the house at Torch Lake. My dad even renewed his law license and did some light real estate work for a while, but it was just little stuff that helped neighbors and such.”

  We sat silently for a few minutes, and I could sense Tony was becoming anxious to travel.

  “You know, Tony, that people have had a habit of disappearing from Stoney.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Miles had perked up, too. “Yeah, what’s that all about?”

  I was trying to dredge my memory, and then just held up my hand for pause. “I’ll be right back.”

  When I came back with Jan in tow, Gail was right behind us. “Hey, I don’t want to be the only person on the outside. Let’s move this to the living room or the back porch where we can all sit comfortably.”

  We chose the living room, and I was particularly pleased when I saw the seating arrangement consisted of over-stuffed chairs and a recliner or two around a coffee table that was at least six feet long and more than half that wide. Each chair had its own floor lamp.