I nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you just needed to verify their age and legal identity, or if you kept an actual copy.”
“Right.”
“If I may, I’d like to see Emma Hueber’s.”
“Couldn’t you just get take a look at the records at the courthouse?”
“Yes, if she was born in Winnebago County. You said Minnesota, but what city and county?”
“I see. The fact that you’re not asking her parents suggests they are involved in something they shouldn’t be.”
“We don’t know that. Things come up in the course of an investigation that we have to check on. Most leads turn out to be nothing. But we still have to check. And in this case, why upset a family for no good reason?”
“That makes sense. Let me pull her file again.” She efficiently located Emma’s record and paged through it until she’d found and extracted the paper. She set the rest of the file on the cabinet, glanced at the sheet, and handed it to me.
Emma Anita Hueber was born in Minneapolis, Hennepin County, Minnesota to Curtis and Anita Shecker Hueber. I read the names, and place of birth, a dozen times, questioning the facts that were written as plain as day in black and white, but did not add up. “May I get a copy of this?”
“There’s not a liability problem with me doing that is there?” she said.
“No. A copy of a birth certificate is not a legal document, which is why you were able to make one.”
She raised her eyebrows like she was considering my words then left in search of the office copy machine. Emma’s file was lying there, not four feet away, tempting me to pick it up. But I resisted, for obvious reasons. I didn’t have permission, and would forever lose Mrs. Delavan’s trust if she caught me snooping. I was standing in the same spot when she returned.
“Here you are, Sergeant.” She gave me the copy. “One thing I thought of when I was making that copy. Is the school at any kind of risk here? Specifically, are the other students in any kind of danger? When you talked about an investigation, all sorts of wild things went through my mind. My imagination is not my friend at this moment.”
My imagination is not my friend. I knew exactly what she meant, especially with all that had been happening in my own life the last weeks. “There is no reason to worry about that.” That I know of. “I appreciate your help, Missus Delavan, and I will let you know when we’ve wrapped up this investigation. For your own reassurance.”
“I’d appreciate that. We have so many different family issues going on nowadays. Custody battles, no-contact orders. Not to mention the huge tragedies other communities have been through. We’re always on our toes, as well we should be.”
“It has gotten much more complex for schools, and for society, in general the last years. The way I look at it is each of us has a role in making our world a safer place. I think about that a lot, and not just in the way it applies to my job.”
“I like that.”
“Thanks again for your help,” I said.
“You’re welcome, and enjoy your weekend.”
I headed to the visitor’s parking lot with a new piece of evidence. A copy of a copy of a birth certificate. I pulled my cell phone from its holder as I sat down in the squad car, and phoned Smoke.
“Corky. Wrapping things up for the day?”
“Just about. But, oh my gosh, I’ve got a couple of major things to tell you. Where are you?”
“At home, believe it or not. Why don’t you stop over and you can fill me in?”
“You haven’t got company?”
“Nope, just me and my dog.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
I thought Smoke was going to hug me when I relayed the information from Martin Geiger. He led the way to the living room and we sat down.
“Hopefully he’ll talk to Juergen and Eliso tonight. Tomorrow at the latest,” I said.
“I’d have never thought this after our first meeting, but Geiger has turned out to be a godsend to us.”
“He really has. And ever since he told us about the time Fletch approached him, I’ve been thinking about how sleazy that is. Fletch slinking around, looking for lonely men to prey on. Men who have the means to pay what is no doubt a hefty price for a wife.”
“What did you say were the estimates when you did your research? That two and a half million people being trafficked, or smuggled, puts billions of dollars in the pockets of evil guys like Champ and Fletch.” He shifted in his easy chair.
“Sadly, that’s about right. You know, Smoke, Martin eventually came forward about his encounter with Fletch, but what about others? If there were say twenty men that were approached, you’d think one of them would have called us to report a suspicious character propositioning them.”
“You would think. I’m guessing they’re embarrassed. A small part of them wants to report it, but a large part of them just wants to forget it ever happened,” he said.
“And some guys like Juergen get caught up in it before the lights go on, and they realize that they’ve screwed up, big time.”
“And others are glad they got away with it.”
I leaned back on the couch. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I talk to Eliso. I want to hear her story, of course. But I also need to find out if she knew Maisa.”
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up about that, if I were you.”
“I’m trying not to, but I can’t help it.” I sat up straighter and handed him the document I’d been holding—the copy of Emma Hueber’s alleged birth certificate. “Now for the other investigation we’ve been dabbling in, more than digging into, so far.”
Smoke picked up a pair of reading glasses from the top of a book on the end table by his chair. He read the sheet and frowned. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. If Emma was born to Curtis and Anita Hueber ten years ago in Hennepin County, Minnesota, why was she not listed as her brother Laban’s survivor when he died four years ago?”
“Were the Huebers in Minnesota, then in Utah, then back in Minnesota?” he said.
“When they were in Utah four years ago, according to his obituary, they lost their only son. Now they have an only daughter who was supposedly born to them ten years ago. In Minnesota.”
Smoke set his glasses back down. “Conflicting information, no doubt. Now that we have a place of birth listed, as well as the parents’ names, we can check with Hennepin, try to shake out the real story.
“Not to get ahead of ourselves here, but one of us may need to take a trip to Salt Lake City to sort through the facts on that end. Not that we have the extra manpower right now with everyone up to their eyeballs in this, that, and the other thing. Next to you and me, Edberg would be next on my list to go. And we need to keep him on Champ and Fletch.”
“Has he checked in with you today?” I said.
“Yeah, I talked to him about an hour ago. Didn’t have much to report.”
“No sign of Fletch?”
“None. But have no fear, like all bad pennies, he will turn up. Which brings up our search for the other bad penny.”
“Which one?”
“Gorilla man. I took the liberty of getting that surveillance camera installed in the tree in your back yard this afternoon. I called to tell you but your phone went right to voicemail.”
“Must have been when I was in the school. Thanks for doing that. We cannot catch that creep soon enough.”
“That’s a given.”
15
There were eight or nine neighborhood kids, plus their parents, waiting in Sara’s yard Saturday afternoon when I pulled into her driveway with my squad car. I turned the flashers on and parked. By the time I got out from behind the wheel, every boy and girl was jumping up and down, and most of the parents looked like they were ready to join them.
Sara clapped her hands together. “Okay, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Sergeant Corky and her squad car are finally here.”
“I said a little after three. Am I
late?”
She smiled. “No, everyone else was early.”
I scanned the eager little faces, happy that Emma Hueber was among them. “Well, this is exciting, having so many of you wanting to see what the inside of a squad car looks like. So how many of you want to become police officers when you grow up?” The hand of the boy who had started the ball rolling raised his hand. So did another boy, and Emma. Her mother gave her a look that read, “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
I pretended not to notice. “Well, good. And everyone has a parent with?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” came from multiple voices.
“You can each take a turn sitting in the driver’s seat. But first I’ll show you where the people we arrest sit.” I opened the door to the backseat and each took a turn looking inside.
“Wow, it’s like a cage back there,” one said.
“And notice there are no door handles so they can’t open the door,” I said.
“Why not?” a little girl asked.
“So they can’t escape.”
“Ohhh,” was echoed among the children.
“Wow, you have a big gun in there,” a boy said when he spotted the shotgun locked in its place.
“Yes, I don’t need that very often, fortunately. Okay, line up, and you can each take your turn.” One by one they took the coveted seat for about a minute while the others clapped and chattered. When they’d all had their turn, the parents and children thanked me, and many shook my hand, or gave me a high five. When Emma offered her hand, I held it an extra second or two. Being with the kids was the most fun I’d had in a long, long time.
I returned to Sara’s that evening prepared to stay up all night to watch for the Hueber boy, and his penchant for cleaning. Sara hung in there with me until 1:00 a.m., and then begged off. “I’m so sorry, but I’m falling asleep, Cork.”
“I totally understand. I’m going to get a little rest myself. Maybe I’ll set my cell phone, or your oven timer, to wake me every thirty minutes. If young Hueber hasn’t started cleaning by five o’clock, I think it’s pretty safe to say he made it through the night.”
Sara gave me a hug. “I’d say so. And sleep as late as you want in the morning. I’ll be quiet.” She headed off to bed.
I was too sleepy to read so I tried watching some television, but I’d already seen the two movies that looked half interesting. I took another peek at the dark house across Sara’s back yard, set her timer, crawled under a blanket on the living room couch, and fell asleep. Every thirty minutes when the timer rang, I got up and looked for signs of lights and action at the Huebers’. When there had been none by five o’clock Sunday morning, I shuffled off to the spare bedroom, got under the covers, and slept until noon.
“You must be disappointed, huh?” Sara asked as she set a cup of coffee on the kitchen table in front of me.
“I am. I mean, we have firsthand observations and notes from last weekend. And you saw him before that. But still. It would have built a stronger case, and given me a reason to knock on the Hueber’s door and ask what was up with their son.”
“If the sheriff wants Human Services to handle it, that’s fine with me.”
“We’ll get the ball rolling, one way or the other.”
I was finishing a peanut butter sandwich for my Sunday night dinner when my work cell phone rang. I was mildly surprised to read Swiss Apostolic Church on the display. “Sergeant Aleckson.”
“Sergeant, some bad things are happening.” Martin sounded out of breath.
“What’s the matter, Martin?”
“When I went to Juergen’s house for our visit, he was not there. It is not like Juergen to break his word to me.”
“You think they took off, after all?”
“I do not believe that, no. If they are gone, it would not be by choice. I say that because when I returned home, I saw someone inside my home.”
Alarms went off in my brain. “Martin, someone was in your house? Uninvited, a burglar?”
“He was not invited, and he was there in the dark. The lights were all off, as I had left them. The man was by the window, to the side of it, looking out. The street light on the outside pole allowed me to see him.”
“One man?”
“I saw one, but I suppose there could be more.”
“Any idea who he is?” I said.
“No, his face was in the shadows.”
“Do you think he saw you?”
“It is possible. As I said, I could not see his face, his eyes, to know for sure.”
“Then what? You headed straight to the church?”
“I ran first to the store then changed my mind, in case it is Fletch who is looking for me, and ran here.”
“What’s your home address, again?” He told me and I jotted it down on a scrap of paper in my kitchen. “All right. Martin, I’ll send the area car to pick you up, and I’ll head down there to meet you. And get a deputy over to check your house.” I grabbed my police radio from its holder on the counter.
“Sergeant, I hear someone walking on the wood floors in the sanctuary. I must go.”
“Martin, take the phone with you.”
“I cannot. It is not a portable.”
My fingers were trembling from the adrenaline pumping through my body when I depressed the talk button. “Six oh eight, Winnebago County.”
“Go ahead, Sergeant,” Communications Officer Robin said.
“Go to channel three.” I turned the band from one to three.
“On three.”
“I need two deputies to respond to the Swiss Apostolic Church in Kadoka. There is a man inside who may be in danger. Name is Martin Geiger. He spotted an uninvited man standing in the dark at his home, so he went to the church and called me. Then he heard someone walking in there when we were talking. I’ve lost communication with him. And send another deputy to check his house at Four-ten Second Street South.”
As I gave the information, I ran upstairs and donned the essential gear I needed. My pancake holster, service weapon, and badge.
“Copy. Two deputies to the church, and one to the residence at Four-ten Second Street South,” Robin repeated.
I ran back downstairs to the front closet where I pulled out my hiking boots and a medium-weight hooded jacket, and had them on in seconds, while Robin called for the two closest deputies to respond. Weber was within two miles and Zubinski was about five miles out. Ortiz said he would check Martin’s house. He was nine or ten miles away.
I attached the radio to my jeans and clipped the mouthpiece to the top of the jacket zipper as I ran to the garage, ready to jump in my squad car. It was my day off, so there was no squad car. I hit the garage door opener and hopped in my GTO instead. I pulled my cell phone from my jeans pocket and called Smoke as I backed out of the garage. “Martin’s in trouble. He’s at the church. Weber and Zubinski are responding and I’m en route from my house.”
I heard a sports announcer’s voice in the background, and figured Smoke was in the middle of a Vikings football game on television. “What happened?”
“Martin saw a man in his house, and Ortiz is on his way to check it out.” As I filled him in on everything Martin had told me, the football game went silent, replaced by sounds of Smoke moving around.
“Think Champ got word Martin’s been talking to us?”
“That’s the only thing I can think of. Martin mentioned thinking Fletch may be involved. And what’s happened to Juergen and Eliso?”
“Damn. You don’t have a squad car, so you better ride with me.”
I was westbound on County 35, not far from his driveway. “Okay. It’s my headlights you’re about to see.”
Smoke was attaching the magnetic single-beacon light to the top of his unmarked squad car when I pulled up beside him, parked, and hopped out. We didn’t speak as we got in his car and sped away.
“Seven fourteen, Winnebago County on three.” It was Weber.
“Go ahead.”
“I
’m ten-six at the church.” Weber was smart to keep his communications off the main channel.
“Copy, at eighteen thirty-three.” Six thirty-three.
I pressed down the talk button on my radio. “Six oh eight, Seven fourteen, are you waiting on your partner before going in?”
“Six oh eight, checking the doors first to see if any are open.”
“Copy. Dawes and I are also responding. We’re on Thirty-five approaching Five. ETA is nine or ten.” We had not met a vehicle since we’d been on the road so Smoke was pushing it at twenty-five miles an hour above the speed limit.
“Ten-four.”
“Why is it I’m always more afraid for other people in trouble than I am for myself?” I said.
“You’ve said it before. You have a gun and are trained for people coming at you. And we never know how the people we’re bound to protect are going to react when they’re under attack.”
I said a silent prayer for Martin. “I guess you’re right. Take a guy like Martin. He lives simply and faithfully. Would he even allow himself to punch another guy’s lights out to protect himself?”
“Let’s hope it hasn’t come to that.”
“Seven twenty-eight, Winnebago County.” It was Amanda Zubinski.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m ten-six at Seven fourteen’s location.”
“At eighteen thirty-six.”
There was silence on channel three until Weber spoke. And when he did, his words didn’t just break the silence, they shattered it. “We have one down at our location. We need the paramedics here now!”
Smoke pushed the accelerator closer to the floor and Mrs. Delavan’s words came out of my mouth. “My imagination is not my friend right now.”
“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I should have gotten Martin a cell phone.”
“Why’s that?” he said.
“He could have called right away, as soon as he saw someone in his house, instead of running over to the church.”
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