Showing posts with label 20th century novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 20th century novel. Show all posts

Sunday, November 6, 2016

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

Lisa screamed. Vonnie reached for the phone; the line was dead. “Someone must have cut the lines,” she lowered the dead phone.

Lisa whirled toward the window as another hooded figure carrying a flashlight rushed by. Lucinda put her arm around Lisa and tried to quiet her, but Lisa screamed and punched Lucinda.

“No,” Vonnie rushed to help Lucinda quiet the frightened girl.

Another rock sailed through a window.

A gruff voice came from outside. “You, Niggers, get out of there.”

“No,” Lisa cried. “They’’ll hang us if we go outside.”

“Honey, no. Just be quiet. They’ll go away.” Lucinda smoothed Lisa’s hair.

Lisa tried to push her away.

“Hush,” Vonnie told her.

Lisa whimpered and settled to the floor with the other two women holding her between them.

Moments passed. Quiet. “Maybe they went away,” Lucinda whispered.

They all heard a loud crash as a bottle with a lit rag sailed through the window nearest them. It landed at their feet.

Lucinda and Vonnie each grabbed a rug and began slapping at the flames. Lisa cowered, too scared to move. More bottles crashed through the windows.

The three women ran almost blindly to the door. It was the only place to go. They ran into the street. Their clothing was light and hardly thick enough to protect them from the cold night air. Their feet bare. They ran past hooded Klansmen who ignored them but tossed more bottles half filled with amber liquid and stuffed with rags that they had set afire.

Explosions shook the night air. The women huddled at the far side of the street.

“Lucinda, your beautiful house.” Vonnie didn’t know if she said it out loud or not. She thought of all the beautiful treasures still inside that house. Lucinda had pre packed only few things and sent them south.

The women hovered in the shadows behind the line of white sheeted men. They didn’t know what else to do. Where could they go? Lucinda’s and Vonnie’s cars were in the driveway close to the house. One of them was already burning.

Lisa stopped trembling. Then she turned to Lucinda and began pummeling her with her fists. “You brought this on us. You brought this on us.” she screamed.

Vonnie tried to pull her away. “No,” Lisa screamed. “She’s a Negro. We have to protect ourselves. She turned. She wanted to run away, but Leo Olson was there. He caught her by her wrists and held her despite her screams and kicks. “What have we got here?” he asked. “A wild animal.” He pushed her toward a deputy and ordered him to cuff her.

Lisa spent the night in jail. The charge was disturbing the peace. Leo insisted that her screams and disorderly conduct kept him from catching the hooded figures. Most townspeople knew he had probably been one of the hooded figures himself.

Lucinda called an attorney; the Mynters bailed Lisa out.

“What a disgrace,” Mary said when she got into the car with her husband Urban. “She’ll be Dylan’s wife later today.”

Urban had been amused by the story. “Give her a little credit,” he said. “She was attacked. If a bunch of hoodlums start throwing homemade bombs at me, I’m liable to start screaming myself.”

Mary smiled at her husband who had fought in Italy during the war. She knew he had seen some terrible fighting. But this was different. “Those men weren’t going to hurt her.” Mary insisted.

“We don’t know that. Lisa didn’t know that. And they burned the Rinaldi house to the ground. I don’t blame her for screaming.” Urban backed out of the highway.

“Leo should have been more interested in catching the Klansmen.”

Urban nodded agreement. “He says the house burned down when a candle overturned, and the three women were drunk.”

“Well I don’t know what happened there last night,” Mary said to herself as much as to her husband. “I don’t hold with prejudice. You know that. The Rinaldis have done more to help this town than anyone. Any time the historical society needs money, Lucinda writes a check. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Lisa Brianka gave the sheriff reason to arrest her.

Urban smiled. “Let’s go welcome the little jailbird to the family.”

Lucinda spent the night at Vonnie’s farmhouse. The two women sat together sipping coffee.

“I wish you’d change your mind and come to the wedding.”

“I’m leaving town today. Even if…if what happened last night hadn’t happened, I’m leaving.”

“I’m so sorry for the things Lisa said,” Vonnie was near tears.

“She was scared.”

“That doesn’t mean she can scream out anything she wants.”

“That poor child has been through so much. We can’t blame her for…well, anything.”

“She does the strangest things. I sometimes just don’t know. And how will Dylan cope with her. Jack and I can barely do it.” Vonnie took a few deep breaths and stared out the window. “And after last night, and your pretty house…”

“The house is nothing. I don’t know if I could have sold it. Leo might be doing me a favor by writing this off as an accident. Now I get insurance money.”

“Accident? Leo will never get my vote for sheriff. Lisa says she saw him leading the Klan the night our mother died.”

“You know she could have imagined that. She was only five years old.”

“She saw something awful, and I don’t think she makes it up.”

The two women watched the sunrise, and spoke only sparingly.

“At least I won’t have any luggage to cart with me.”

“I have so many of those beautiful dresses you gave me, Lucinda. And no place to wear them. Please take some of them back.”

“I want to go shopping tomorrow. I’ll get everything new. A new life and new clothes. And a new house.”

“You mean Jack’s house?”

“I have my own house in Detroit. I don’t know if I want Jack to take on the two babies. He would, but I won’t ask him.” She sipped coffee from an old cracked cup that Ezekiel had in the house before he married Vonnie. “I broke up with Jack.”

“They don’t look happy,” Mary whispered to Elsie.

“They’re nervous,” Elsie whispered back.

“And that awful green dress,” Alice said. “Where did she get that dress?”

“Shh,” Mary hushed her.

Lillian, Abe’s wife leaned over and whispered. “I offered to make her a nice white dress.”

“She likes the green one.”

“I understand she got it from Lucinda Rinaldi. I mean Mrs. Davies.”

“Mrs. Davies could carry off a dress like that. It just doesn’t work on Lisa. It looks like someone put a fancy dress on a corn cob doll.”

Lisa overheard the Mynter’s conversation, but decided to ignore it. She hated Dylan’s family. Let’s get this wedding over, she thought.

She didn’t want to marry Dylan, but she had no other options. She had no money and now no job; Vonnie was furious with her. She no job now that Lucinda was moving away. She had no money. She couldn’t go to Los Angeles to meet and marry Jon Hall. People thought Dylan was too good for her. She heard lots of whispers. Despite their kindness, the Mynters didn’t like her. They didn’t want Dylan marrying her.

Dylan’s first wife had been that awful Elaine who had worked at the Rinaldi House for awhile. Lisa knew what happened between Dylan and his first wife. Elaine had brought a man home from some tavern. Dylan had caught them in bed together. Elaine was evil.

She had spied and stolen documents from the Rinaldi house, and she had sold the Rinaldi family’s secret.

Elaine was despicable. But Elaine had style. Surely the Mynters didn’t want Elaine back in the family. They didn’t want Lisa in the family either.

Lisa clutched a fist full of wild flowers that one of the Mynters had collected from some vacant lot. She sat in the back of the hall and waited for Dylan.

Dylan smoked a last cigarette before his wedding. From time to time, his dad or one or more of his brothers would come out and chat briefly. Of course, they wondered what was taking him so long.

“Just enjoying the day,” he said.

“You nervous?”

“No.”

Emil put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You can still call this thing off.”

Dylan shook his head no. “That would embarrass Lisa.”

“It might be better than spending the rest of your life with her.”

“I gotta move on with my life,” Dylan said. “Lisa’s a good person.”

“She’s mentality ill,” Emil said. “Are you sure you want to take that on?”

Dylan nodded, tossed the rest of his cigarette aside and turned to walk inside. He had promised to marry this odd, fragile girl, and that is what he would do.

Penny 1970

Mary Mynter Smith sat across from me in the Almasy House restaurant. “We knew Dylan’s marriage was going to be a disaster. We just didn’t know how to stop it. It was like watching an accident happen in slow motion.”

“Was it really all Lisa’s fault?” I asked.

“You know how crazy she is.”

“She needed someone,” I said. “She always needed someone.”

“She’s your problem now,” Mrs. Smith said. True.

1946

It didn’t take Lisa long to move into Emil’s house with Dylan. She had few possessions.

“When are we going to have a house of our own?” she asked.

“This is it,“ Dylan smiled. He was happy he could provide his bride with one of the nicest houses in town “ It’s not a mansion like the Rinaldi’s house was,” he explained. “But it is large. My dad raised ten kids in this house.”

“I was hoping we could move into something smaller. I’m tired of cleaning big houses.”

“Pa and I are pretty neat,” Dylan said. “And Mary comes in from time to time to tidy things up. She doesn’t mind helping us out.”

“I don’t want your sister doing my housework,“ Lisa said.

“Pa and I will keep up our half. Like I said, we’re neat.”

“Does your dad have to live here?”

“Lisa, it’s his house.”

“We should have a house of our own.”

“I can’t afford a house right now. And this house is wonderful. I grew up here.”

“I thought you said you bought this house.”

“I paid my dad a dollar, and he put my name on the lease. It was with the understanding he would live here with us.”

“Maybe your pa could get an apartment.”

“Lisa, this is his house. He owns it.”

“You paid him for it.”

“That dollar was a formality. I can’t ask him to leave.”

“Why not?”

“He’s my dad.”

“I don’t like him.”

Dylan worked nights to earn more money. He knew his dad would help him out, but he thought it was generous of Emil to sign the house over to him; Emil didn’t have to to do that.

Emil had bought the other kids their homes, but it had caused gossip. Where was Emil getting all this money? Anyway Lisa was so fragile; Dylan and his family all felt it would be better if she had Emil now retired to keep an eye on her while Dylan worked.

When Emil made ham and cheese sandwiches with extra mustard and potato salad, Lisa refused to help clean up the kitchen.

“I’m not cleaning up after the old man,“ she told Dylan.

So Dylan helped his pa with the clean up. Mary came over in the evenings and she did some of the cleaning too.

“Where’s that wife of yours?” she asked.

“She’s resting.”

Mary snapped a dish towel. “She doesn’t mind eating Pa’s cooking. Mine either. She just doesn’t like cleaning up.”

“She’s actually a good housekeeper,” Emil stood up for his daughter-in-law. “She has some of these downstairs rooms spic and span.”

“Doing a dish every once in awhile wouldn’t kill her,” Mary said. “The kitchen is where the real clean up work begins.”


 Emil wore an apron. “I want to do more cooking now that I’m retired. You know I make a mean meat loaf. And my mashed potatoes are next to none.”

“That doesn’t mean she can’t help in the kitchen especially doing the clean up.”

“Leave it be,“ Emil warned his daughter.

When college let out for the summer Bill and Ken, Dylan’s younger brothers had jobs at the Ford plant waiting for them. Dylan had arranged the jobs. The problem was they needed a place to stay.

“They’ll stay here, of course.” Dylan said. “It’s their home.”

“And I’m not sending them away,” Emil agreed. “What does your wife say about them staying here?”

“She doesn’t like it.” Dylan confessed. “She thought once they went to college, they would be on their own, and that when we moved in here it would be our house.”

Emil had considered confiding in Dylan about his fortune. But he had hesitated. Mary and Elsie and their spouses knew, but his other children thought he saved and invested. They had no idea how much money Emil had.

“I’ll buy you and Lisa a home,“ he said.

“Pa, I want to stay here. You need someone to take care of you.”

“I can do pretty well on my own.”

“Who’s going to do your housework?”

“Me. Look Dylan, I paid for each of your brothers to go to college, Tuition, room and board. I paid for all the weddings. You and Lisa were the only ones who didn’t have big wedding.”

“Pa, you’ve been too generous. You need to save some money for old age. I haven’t finished paying you back for the house…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. It was the house he had given Elaine in the divorce settlement. It was the price of being rid of her, but he hadn’t really wanted to be rid of her.

“I have enough for my old age. Now the Brandt house is for sale. I’ll buy it. It’s just down the street.”

Dylan told Lisa his dad was buying the Brandt house for them.

“It’s small; it’s dinky. I want to stay here.”

“This is pa’s house.”

“You paid him that dollar. He put your name on the deed. It’s our house now.”

“He wants to live out his remaining years here.”

“He can’t have that long. Dylan he’s what seventy-something.”

“He’s my dad,“ Dylan often felt anger boil up in him when Lisa made cruel remarks. He tried to be patient with her, but now she was talking about waiting for his father to die. “You didn’t mean that. Not the way it sounded.”

Lisa turned away. She pouted.

“What about Ken and Bill?” Dylan asked.

“Do I have a choice? They’re coming.”

“Would you help Pa get a couple extra bedrooms ready?”

“I guess I’m still a maid,”

Ken and Bill didn’t stay with Dylan and Emil. They rented an apartment with some college friends.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dylan told them.

“We’re okay. We can drink all the beer we want and party until dawn. Pa would never let us do that.”

Dylan left at 10:30 for the midnight shift. Lisa left a night light on in the hall and Emil let her do this. He knew she feared the dark.

He enjoyed staying up late with a book. The latest John Byrne book had arrived from his book club, and he was half way through it. Byrnes’ Detroit private detective was as hard-boiled as any tough guy character.

Emil liked the twists and turns of Byrnes novels. As he read, the main detective character stalked a killer and the killer stalked the detective. In his imagination, he followed the detective into a dark house where the stairs creaked and shadows lingered.

Creak. The noise jolted Emil from his novel. He was often nervous at night because of the fortune in old coins and jewelry he still had locked in a room downstairs. Town gossips whispered that Emil was wealthy, so he suspected he would make a great target for a robber.

Creak. The noise came again.

Emil quietly got up and reached into his desk for his revolver.

The house was dark except for his study and the hall light upstairs. Lisa kept a second light on in the bedroom. Those lights should alert any intruder that someone was awake in the house.

Creak. The noise came from the up stairs. Someone was descending. Emil slipped out of his study and aimed the gun at the top of the stairs.

Creak.

Emil tensed with the gun in his fist. Who was up there? What did they want?

A shadow fell on the stairwell, and slowly made its way down one stair at a time.

Lisa slowly descended. She wore only a short thin slip. Her bare legs revealed most of the thigh and the nudity underneath.

She walked down the steps like a Las Vegas show girl. Her head held high like it balanced a crown. Emil let the hand that held the gun fall to his side. He breathed a sigh of relief.

That small sigh awakened Lisa. She saw him standing below her where she imagined he could look up her slip.

A look of pure hatred came over Lisa’s features.

“You filthy old man,” she spit the words out and hurried back up the stairs to her bedroom. Emil heard the lock on her bedroom door slide into place.

He poured himself a scotch and sat at his desk. What should he tell Dylan? Emil had not slept nor had he read anymore that night. He made himself a pot of coffee, and then he ignored the coffee and poured himself some more scotch.

Dylan was not surprised to see his dad waiting for him. Emil often made breakfast for his son and his wife.

“The coffee’s cold,” Emil said, “But I’ll make some more.”

“Pa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Sit down, son. There is something I have to tell you.”

“Is Lisa all right?”

“I don’t think so.”

When Dylan walked upstairs, he found the bedroom door locked. “Lisa open up,” he called.

He waited and called her name again. Finally he heard her footsteps, and he heard the key turning in the lock. He waited a heartbeat and then opened the door. His wife wore a plain green checkered house dress from the Sears catalog.

“What happened? Pa says you had some kind of a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she said with anger.

“What happened?” he repeated.

“I don’t know. I think he drugged me.

“What? Who drugged you?”

“Your dad. He must have put something in my food last night.”

“Lisa, do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“I came awake on the stairs. I was wearing my slip. That’s all. Just my slip and he was staring up at me.”

“You’ve walked in your sleep before.”

“Not anymore. It’s been a long time.”

“Lisa, my dad would never do anything to hurt you.”

“That filthy old man was staring up my slip.”

“He heard you on the stairs. He thought you might be a burglar ”

“I’ll kill him if he does that again.”

Dylan wanted to slap her. Instead, he said. “We’ll move.”


 “Make him move. He’s the problem,”

“I am not kicking him out of his house. I’ll see if I can swing buying the Brandt house myself.”

“I don’t want to live there.” She folded her arms and sat down on the bed.

“We don’t have a lot of choices,” Dylan told her.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Chapter Thirteen

From the woods, two men watched Lisa and her nephew. Lisa raked the leaves and pulled weeds. Little Louis was in a playpen, which kept him safe while Lisa worked. He had toys which included a truck from the Sears catalog.

Soon Louis would be in school. Lisa thought how she would miss them.

Then Louis tried to climb out of the playpen. Lisa lifted him from the playpen. Louis ran around her, sometimes helping and sometimes getting in the way. Lisa asked him to pick strawberries and gave him a small bucket. That should keep him busy.

“Hide and seek,” he said.

“Not now,” she smiled at the child.

While Lisa worked, the two men watched. They were careful that she not see them. That would spook her. Once before they had spooked her and then she had hidden all day in the house with the door locked. It had been days before she came back out even though the plants needed weeding and the chickens needed feed. Vonnie had fed the animals when she came home, so they hadn’t gone hungry.

Lisa was a strange girl.

“Don’t know why we don’t pick her.” Miles said. “We aren’t going to pin the killings on her brother anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. Anyway I got a better idea.”

They kept watching.

Lisa had to go to the bathroom. “You stay where I can see you,” she said to Louis. “Don’t go wondering off where I have to try and find you.”

Louis stopped only for a moment to look at her, and then went back to picking strawberries. Lisa decided to take no chances. There was no telling how much mischief he could get into in the minute or two she was in the outhouse. She picked him up and placed him back in the playpen. Louis whined and then sat down with a big frown. “Me scared,” he said.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Lisa didn’t believe her own words, but she had to pee. “I’ll be right back. Stay right there, and you’ll be safe.”

Years later, she would remember how she had a premonition. Something was not right. Something stirred in the bushes. She would be be forever haunted by the little boy’s words and her own sense that something was wrong that morning.

“Me scared.” Louis repeated. Lisa was scared to.

She went to the outhouse, looked around one last time and glanced at little Louis to make sure he were all right. Then she went inside.

“Let’s have some fun,” Sonny said. He ran over to the outhouse and placed a heavy board against the outside. “Wish I had a great big rattlesnake to put in there.” He was giggling so hard, he could barely talk.

Lisa heard the plank hit the door. She stood quiet for a second. She heard the giggling. “Who’s out there?” Lisa started pushing at the door. “Let me out,” she called.

Miles just laughed and backed away from the door. He sat down and decided to enjoy her frustration.

When he looked around to see what his friend was doing, he didn’t see Sonny. Nor did he see the child. “Sonny,” he called. “Sonny.”

Lisa yelled . “Let me out.” Then the screams were just screams. Lisa wailed as the walls of the outhouse closed in on her and the darkness terrified her. She never stayed in the outhouse for more than a few minutes. She was always too afraid. Now she imagined hanged men dangling above her head or just outside the door. She imagined snakes on the floor.

“Stupid bitch.” Miles wanted to take out his gun and start shooting into the outhouse. That might attract too much attention. Dennis Cheney’s farm was just the other side of those trees. And to that side, Cheney Creek lay silent and glistening in the sun as it ran toward the Menominee River.

Where was Sonny?

A scream came from the direction of the creek.

“Damn,” Miles ran toward the creek. The ground was uneven in the woods. A recent rain storm had scattered branches. A log lay in his path, and he tripped over it. His fall was cushioned by a bed of pine needles. He got up and kept running.

When he came out of the woods, he ran right into the creek. Sonny and the boy were perhaps a hundred feet to his right. Sonny was holding the child’s head under water. Louis had stopped struggling and his wet clothing floated above the waters. He looked fat and bloated like an over stuffed little scarecrow.

Miles tackled his friend. He pushed Sonny aside and tried to grab for the child, but Sonny got up and pushed Miles aside. The two men struggled with Miles trying desperately to get to the the little boy and Sonny fighting him off. Little Louis’ body flopped to the side like a rag doll. In the distance, Lisa’s screams were a movie soundtrack from Hell.

“Too late, man. Too late,” Sonny said. He lay exhausted on the bank while Miles struggled to get up and get to the child. Even before Miles dragged the wet form from the water, he knew it was indeed too late. Little Louis was dead.

“You stupid idiot. What makes you think you can get away with that?”

Sonny slowly got up and walked away. His wet clothing hanging to him. “We can hide the body.”

“Don’t you think he’ll be reported missing? This ain’t like a woman walking away because she can’t stand Mommy and Daddy and the farm anymore.

There’ll be a hunt for the child. The tunnels will ll be searched like they ain’t never been searched before.”

Sonny shrugged. “So leave the body here. Blame the crazy.”

“She’s locked in the outhouse,” Miles reminded his friend. “When we leave her out, she’ll see us.”

“I ain’t leavin’ her out.” With that Sonny walked away.

Lisa 1970

Lisa was scared. This was her second night in jail. She disliked the dark because scary drowned things floated in the dark. She imagined that she awoke in a sunken ship or a downed airplane. Wreckage surrounded her.

She was hungry. She hadn’t eaten. If she ate, they would drug her. Who were they? The jailers. Miles Olson.

She knew what his dad had done; she would tell. She knew what he had done. But would anyone believe her? They hadn’t in the past.

They would kill her.

She must be very careful.

The lights went off at ten. At first she was too afraid of the dark to sleep. She lay staring into the blackness until her eyes adjusted. She could see shades of gray and the black cell bars. After a long time she slept.

When she awoke, it was still dark, but a faint light shown from some where, like someone had dropped a flashlight that was still on. Something hung from the ceiling of her jail cell.

She remembered. The hanging. His feet dangled in the air. His face was purple and the eyes looked right at her. And. And.

And wet sea weed. That’s what hung from her jail jell. Lisa started screaming.

1940

Vonnie had a bad cold, and she was feeling anxious to be home. Her chores were caught up and though Lucinda was having a difficult pregnancy, Vonnie knew she was needed at home.

“Go,” Lucinda urged. “There’s nothing more you can do here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather be alone. I hate to have anyone with me when I vomit.”

Vonnie smiled at that. She remembered her own pregnancy, and how she often needed to be by herself as nausea and cramps raked her.

“Honey, I can always be outside the door. Always there for you.”

Lucinda clutched her stomach and smiled. She was so big she could have swallowed a pickle barrel.

“Maybe you’re having twins.”

“One baby will be enough,“ Lucinda insisted. But she knew her husband’s mistress was expecting a baby, and Brad planned to pawn it off as their offspring. How would Brad explain two babies? Would he say they were twins? Lucinda didn’t feel well enough to think about that. It would be enough to just get through this pregnancy. She wished Jack could be with her.

“Go. Go home,” she told Vonnie. “If I need anything, my father’s here.”

Vonnie drove slowly home. At every bend in the road she expected to see some terror.

She knew she was letting her imagination get away for her. But since Ezekiel ’s death she felt vulnerable. Of course, she missed him. But it was more than that. Ezekiel had protected her. But surely she wasn’t in danger.

She felt as fearful as Lisa. She was imagining the things Lisa might imagine. A hanged man might dangle from a tree branch, his tongue purple; his red face horribly blotched and swollen; his eyes bulging.

A deer might lay at the side of the road, shot, its intestines dripping onto the dirt.

Why did she think some terror awaited her? She hardly remembered her real father and didn’t know how she felt about his disappearance. Yes, he was probably dead. Maybe he had been murdered like Jack and Lisa said he had been. Still a part of her held out hope that he might come back to them some day.

Ezekiel hadn’t taken the place of her real father. Ezekiel had been a friend, a father-figure and a needed influence in her life.

Ezekiel had been kind and patient. Thanks to him she had a Civil War widow’s pension which helped make ends meet. She owned a house, five acres and a small garden. Lisa had a place to stay and so did Jack when he came north. She had a son, and she loved little Louis more than anything.

Life had been good to her, she decided. So why this feeling of impending doom? It was like there might be a bad car wreck around the next bend in the road. Or perhaps an airplane might fall right out of the sky and destroy her home, her sister, and her son.

Vonnie drove her car into her driveway and parked as she always did behind the house.

Jack met with Abe Bernstein at the restaurant. They ordered steaks and whiskey. “I remember when this stuff was hard to get,” Abe said as he sipped his drink.

“You managed.” Jack reminded him. He didn’t believe for a minute that any of the Bernsteins had ever been so poor he couldn’t afford the best.

“So how is the private detective business,” Abe wanted to know.

“It’s not how I make my money,” Jack reminded him. “But it’s good to have an office and rub shoulders with real business men. They give me ideas.”

“Jackie, you are a real business man. So am I.”

“The cops asked me what I knew about the Michigan highway killings.” Jack said. “They ask from time to time. Some might think I was involved.”

“They figure you’re from the Upper Peninsula. You’ve been in prison there. You got connections. You have ways of finding out things.”

“I could be the killer.”

“You can’t be. You ain’t been back there.”

Actually Jack went back often. He needed to keep track of his sisters and Lucinda was expecting his baby though no one else knew that.

Vonnie saw the board wedged against the outside of the the toilet shed. Who had put that there? Why was it there? Had a snake crawled inside? There had been a huge pine snake in the back yard, but Dennis had killed it. Perhaps there was another snake.

As she neared the outhouse, she heard soft weeping. Someone was in there. Lisa? Little Louis? Lisa would not lock the child in here. Yet the crying sounded like that of a baby.

Vonnie tore the board away and swung the door open.

The weeping continued. It sounded like a small lost puppy. Lisa sat in the corner hugging her knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Who did this too you?”

Lisa didn’t answer. Instead she crawled out like a wounded animal might crawl after a severe beating. She crawled away from the stench; her fear followed her. It had been too complete, too overpowering to dismiss in a ray of sunlight.

“Lisa,” Vonnie made her voice as soft as she could despite her own mounting terror. “Where is Little Louis?”

Lisa stopped crawling, turned her thin body around and sat bug eyed for a minute staring into the trees. “He wouldn’t come. I begged him to let me out. After the men went away. When I couldn’t hear their voices anymore. I told him to come and sit by the door and we would wait. But then I remembered. He’s in the playpen. See over there.” Lisa looked over at the empty playpen.

Vonnie sat on the ground beside her. “Where is Little Louis?” she repeated. “Where is my son?”

Lisa looked around as if when she turned her head the child would be there. Then she started screaming.

Vonnie hurried into the house calling for Louis. No answer. She ran through every room. He had to be here someplace.

Then she grabbed the telephone. “Please help,” she cried. When the operator found Dennis’ number, Vonnie frantically told of Lisa’s imprisonment inside the outhouse and of the missing boy.

“Somebody locked her in there, and… and I can’t find Louis.”

“I’ll be right over,” Dennis promised.

“I’ll get the police.” the operator said. She had stayed on the line as operators often did.

At headquarters Miles Olson was waiting for the call.

It was Dennis who found Little Louis. He had Miles call Doc Tracie, so both Lisa and Vonnie could be sedated. Dancing Bear, Dennis’ girlfriend, served Camomile tea with some herbs including valerian.

Dennis didn’t want the women to know he had found little Louis until after Doc Tracie arrived. Miles had other plans. He said he wanted to get their reaction. Dennis pushed Miles away from the house. “You tell those two women they just lost that sweet little boy, and I’m going to break you in two, right here, right now.”

Miles backed away. Dennis was not quite six feet tall, but he was strong from farm work, and Miles believed that he could break a man in two. Anyway Miles saw his dad’s car come into the yard and decided now was not the time. He sure didn’t want a lecture from the old man on how to do police work.

Doc Tracie broke the news to the sisters as gently as he could. After an injection and some more tea. Vonnie settled down. She knew she had to be strong. Lisa sobbed uncontrollably.

“It looks like the little boy wandered over to the creek, and he may have fallen in.” Leo explained.

Lisa started talking in a calm almost hypnotic way. “The men did it,” she said.

Leo thought she had fresh information. Something that would help him find the pranksters who locked her in the outhouse. He had no idea what had really happened to the little boy. But if he caught the kids - it had to be kids - who pulled this prank and locked Lisa in the john - he planned keeping them in the jail on bread and water until they were old enough to get out of town. But surely kids had not killed the little boy.

“The men,” Lisa repeated.

“Who?” Leo asked.

Miles stood in the corner where he was thinking he should have killed her instead of just locking her in an outhouse. He knew he had to reign Sonny in. The man was too violent, and too unpredictable. At least this girl was a known crazy. Whatever she said would be dismissed as crazy ramblings.

Lisa spoke. “The men who wore bed sheets and hoods and they had torches. They did it.”

Leo sighed. Why had he even bothered to start questioning her? “What were they doing with torches in the daylight?” he asked. She could be feigning disorientation and shock. Maybe she had drowned the child herself. There was no telling what a crazy might do.

Lisa looked up at Leo; after a minute, she said, “You were there.”

He stumbled backward. He knew she was talking about that other time. The time her dad was killed. He had removed his hood, and he was sure she saw him. But she had been just a child. What did she remember?

Did she think he had anything to do with what happened to Vonnie’s son?

Doc Tracie said Lisa suffered from the worst case of shock he had ever seen. He considered placing her in a hospital.

“The men are in the yard.” she said.

Miles heart almost stopped. He was more spooked than his dad. Had she seen him and Sonny? She knew it was men, plural who had locked her in the outhouse. She knew some men had been in the yard. Was there a peep hole in the outhouse? What difference did it make? The girl was clearly crazy. She wasn’t making sense.

“What men?” asked Doc Tracie.

“I told you. They are wearing sheets and hoods and Pa said, ‘Don’t let her see.’ Then Pa was swinging and he is dead. They killed him. They came back for Louis. This time they didn’t let me see.”

“Enough,” snapped Leo. “Enough. She’s a lunatic. Always has been.”

Lisa inhaled loudly and stared at him. It was like she could see through Leo. Or she could see him wearing a sheet and pillow case. She saw him as he had looked and acted on a day long ago.

Dr. Tracie looked at the bruises on Lisa’s hands. “She’s been through a lot. The fingernails are clawed almost to the bone. Look in the outhouse. You can see where she clawed at the wood trying to get out.”

“Some kids playing a practical joke,” Miles insisted. “Maybe the drowned Brianka brat out there. Yeah. That’s must have happened. The dumb kid locked her in here and then drowned himself.”

Leo gave Miles a stare that shut him up.

“That was Ezekiel’s ’s little boy, and you will speak of the dead with respect.”

Miles frowned. Everyone knew that kid didn’t belong to the old man.

Leo continued. “Looks like the little boy wandered to the creak and drowned.”

“No.” Lisa shouted. “There were men outside. I heard them talking. And Louis was in his playpen. He couldn’t get out.”

“Get that crazy out of here,” Miles said.

“Accidental drowning,” Leo concluded.

The doctor led Lisa into the room where Vonnie was sleeping thanks to the sedative he had given her. Dancing Bear’s herbs had helped. “Can you stay with her?” Doc asked the Indian woman. He knew Dancing Bear was as dependable and as capable as the best registered nurse. If Vonnie needed care, Danni would know what to do.