Thicker than Water Page 16

  “Rudy!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, woman!”

  “He’s in our front yard, under the tree!”

  “Call 911,” he said. “Don’t turn on the lights.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Down to be with the kids.”

  “All right.”

  I didn’t dial 911. When you’re the stepdaughter of the sheriff, you call the source directly. It’s faster. The switchboard secretary answered. “Peg, it’s Torie. Get somebody out here, now!”

  “What’s the problem, Torie?” Peg asked.

  “Prowler. He’s on our property. With what’s been going on at the Gaheimer House, this can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Gotcha. Colin’s on his way out the door.”

  I slammed the phone down and ran down the steps. “Rudy?”

  “In here,” he said.

  I hit the bottom step into the kitchen, rounded the corner, and ran down the hallway to where he stood. I was out of breath and slightly hysterical. My breath came in ragged gasps.

  “Calm down,” he said. “Shh. Let’s not wake the kids if we don’t have to.”

  Just then I heard glass shatter. I screamed, and Rudy clamped his hand over my mouth. “Get Matthew. I’ll get the girls.”

  Another window broke somewhere in the house. The glass shrieked as it was hit and then crashed to the ground. I grabbed Matthew out of his bed in the dark and met Rudy back in the hallway.

  “Daddy? What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. Another window broke and she screamed. “Oh, my God!”

  “What’s happening?” Mary cried.

  “To the garage, everybody.”

  Rudy was smart. There were no windows in the garage. What’s more, we could get to it without leaving the house, then drive away. Rudy and I managed to herd the kids and ourselves into the garage. Then he turned and locked the door behind him. “Get in the car!”

  We tried to do as he instructed, but the girls were sobbing and Matthew was now wide awake. Matthew reached for Rachel and she took him, trying to be the brave big sister. Once my arms were free, Mary grabbed my legs. “Honey, get in the car,” I said. My hands shook and my voice cracked. I tried to stay strong for my children, but deep down I just wanted to cry and run. I’d like to think that if Rudy hadn’t been there I would have been smart enough to think of the garage, but I’m not sure I would have.

  “Sit with me!” Mary cried.

  I got in the backseat with her and placed her on my lap. Rachel hugged Matthew close. I didn’t know my heart could beat this fast or this hard. “Rudy, did you get the keys?”

  “I grabbed them off the shelf as we came by.”

  Rudy sat perfectly still for a moment.

  “What’s the matter?” I said from the backseat.

  “If I open this door and he’s standing there…”

  “No, Daddy! Don’t open the door,” Rachel cried. “Just wait for Grandpa to come.”

  “Maybe she’s right, Rudy,” I said. “Colin’s on his way. Besides, the guy has made so much noise, he’s probably taken off by now. Let’s just wait and see.”

  Rudy’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he sat back against the seat. “Okay, everybody just calm down,” he said. “Let’s be quiet and listen.”

  The children couldn’t be quiet. They were far too scared. “All right,” I said. “Let’s sing a song.”

  “Oh, right, Mom,” Rachel said.

  I flicked her ear. “Let’s sing,” I said. “How about one of those songs you guys learned at camp last year? Something about a baby kangaroo. That’s my favorite. Come on, how does it go?”

  Mary started singing, and then Rachel, reluctantly and through sobs and snot, joined in. There we sat in the dark garage singing some stupid song about a pink kangaroo, tears running down our faces, our house being violated, until there was a bang on the garage door.

  My heart stopped and I clutched at Mary. The girls both squealed.

  “Shhh, everybody shut up,” Rudy said.

  We all did our best to be quiet when we heard the bang again—and then a muffled voice. “Rudy? Torie? It’s Colin!”

  “Oh, thank God,” Rachel said.

  “Grandpa Badge!” Mary cried out.

  Rudy hit the button on the garage door opener, and as the door raised I could see Colin’s feet, then his torso, and finally his face, looking mean and pissed off. His hand rested on the butt of his gun. I can honestly say that I have never been so happy to see any human being in all of my life. I laid my head back and swallowed.

  Then I lost it. Sobs broke free, and I cried into Mary’s back.

  Twenty-Six

  We spent the night at Colin and my mother’s house. When we awoke the next morning—after a fitful night’s sleep—Colin had four rocks sitting on his kitchen table. Four big rocks in plastic evidence bags. Next to them were four pieces of paper and a dozen or so rubber bands in plastic evidence bags. The pieces of paper all simply read, “Move, or be moved.”

  I have never been so cold. It was a coldness that began in my stomach and feathered out to the tips of my fingers and toes. Even my heart was cold. As a result, I felt as if my blood were slugging along in my veins, not really in any hurry to get to its destination.

  “What does this mean?” my mother said. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her chin trembled slightly when she spoke.

  “I think, Mom, somebody is trying to get me out of town.”

  “First they attack you at the Strawberry Festival,” Rudy said.

  “Then the historical society vote,” Colin said.

  “The attempts at making you afraid in the Gaheimer House,” Rudy said.

  “Mike Walker,” Colin added.

  “And now my family,” I finished.

  “Whoever it is, they’re a ball of contradictions,” Rudy said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked and hugged myself.

  “Well, on one hand, they’re gutsy enough to attack a family that is widely loved and supported and related to the sheriff. Me,” Colin said. “Shows a complete lack of respect for authority. On the other hand, they didn’t kill you or Mike Walker, so they’re not gutsy enough to commit murder.”

  “Thank goodness,” my mother said.

  “Their behavior also goes a long way to prove that they want everything left intact when you go,” Colin said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they’re banking on you either selling the Gaheimer House or giving it to somebody, along with everything in it. You walk off and leave the officer’s chairs wide open, as well. In other words, whoever is after what Sylvia left you would be free to try to obtain it,” Colin said.

  “Isn’t that sort of short-sighted?” I asked. “Won’t we be able to figure out that whoever buys the Gaheimer House would be the one who did all of this?”

  “Maybe not. Maybe they’re working with somebody else. Maybe they’ve got a puppet to install. Or maybe it’s not about their getting the Gaheimer House and historical society. Maybe it’s just all about you not getting it,” Colin said. “Whichever, we’ve got definitive proof now of what their ultimate goal is. Getting you to move.”

  “Does the perp think this will work?” I said.

  My mother handed me a glass of Dr Pepper and one of her world-famous apricot bars. Comfort food. She’s so good. I took a bite and, believe it or not, my stomach lurched and it nearly didn’t go down.

  “I don’t know,” Colin said.

  “I mean, everybody knows now that somebody is trying to run me out of town.”

  “It could be they thought you would react differently to the whole historical society thing,” he said.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning they didn’t expect you to take your toys and go home. They didn’t expect you to take the Gaheimer House and tell them to found their own historical society. If you lost the vote, they expected you to hand everything over quietly. And just because you won the vote doesn’t mean that you woul
dn’t have been removed from office by some later scandal,” Colin said.

  “Like something they planned?”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt. But when you told them to go get their own toys, they panicked. And thus they had to kick up the threat,” he said and pointed to the rocks on the table. “I’m not so sure it was ever meant to go this far.”

  “It’s like high school,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, some people’s mental age never gets beyond fourteen.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting,” I said.

  “At any rate, you guys should stay here until we figure out who’s behind this,” he said. “I can’t even imagine they’d try anything here.”

  “What about the Gaheimer House?” I asked.

  The phone rang, and my mother answered it.

  “What about it?” Colin asked.

  “Is it safe to go there?”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Torie, I don’t know—” Rudy said.

  “Because I think the answer to this might be in some of the records we have,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Obviously, whoever is doing this thinks they were entitled to what I got,” I said. “Maybe I can find a record of it. I should probably go to the courthouse as well and see if Sylvia was ever sued by anybody.”

  “Good point,” Colin said.

  “You’re supposed to be on my side,” Rudy said to Colin.

  “She’s right, though. If Sylvia was ever sued, that could be a big lead. It’s obvious Sylvia was worried that somebody would try something once she was gone, or she wouldn’t have been so nervous about her will being contested,” Colin said.

  “True,” I said.

  Mom hung up the phone and turned back to the conversation. “It was Stephanie,” she said. “She wanted to know if she should come in to work today. She couldn’t reach you at your house or your cell phone, so she thought to try here. I just filled her in on everything that happened.”

  “Oh, what if the person had thrown rocks into the Gaheimer House when Stephanie was there?” I said. “She’s pregnant. She could have been hurt.”

  “Whoever it is doesn’t want the Gaheimer House hurt,” Colin said.

  “So it would seem,” I said. “Mom, what did you tell Steph?”

  “I told her not to come in until you had spoken with her,” she said.

  “Good. I’m going to the courthouse,” I said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Rudy said.

  “The kids can stay with me,” Mom said. “I think they should stay home from school today, anyway.”

  “All right,” I said. Suddenly, a thought struck me. “Oh, and while we’re here, I want to go by Wisteria General and see Leigh Duran.”

  “Right,” Rudy said.

  “Oh, jeez.”

  “What?” Rudy asked.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday. The second weekend in the Strawberry Festival. I have so much to do.”

  “I’ll have Tobias call everybody and make sure everything is ready to go,” Colin said. “He can be in charge for a day.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’m off to the courthouse.”

  “Eat your apricot bar,” Mom said. “You’re losing weight.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Believe it or not, there were some records I did not have at the Gaheimer House, namely, all of the civil court records and the more recent marriage and probate records. Rudy and I pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse in Wisteria, and I glanced around nervously. It was difficult for me to drive around and not wonder if somebody was watching from the shadows. “Thanks for coming along,” I said.

  “Hey, you went fishing with me in Minnesota. This is the least I could do.”

  “That’s right, I did,” I said. “Well, this is a lot more fun than fishing.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  Two hours later he was rubbing his eyes. And sneezing. “I cannot believe you’d rather be in here with all of these musty old books than out on a lake or a riverbank.”

  “Oh, if I could find court records out on a lake, I’d be in heaven. But they don’t have filing cabinets on lakes.”

  “Find anything?” he asked.

  “Nothing so far,” I said.

  “Well, I think I did,” he said and pulled out a book. “Pershing vs. Burgermeister.”

  “What?”

  “Looks like Sylvia had a restraining order against Virgie and Harold Burgermeister back in the sixties.”

  “Oh, let’s request the original on this,” I said. We put in our request for the original file with a file clerk named Bernadine Shankmeyer, who not only knew me by name but asked how my sister was doing. Rudy just shook his head. I kept looking through the indexes. By the time the original came back on the restraining order, I had found two other records that I wanted to look at.

  “What does it say?” Rudy asked.

  “Basically, it reads that Harold and Virgie were not allowed within two hundred feet of Sylvia—hard to manage considering they lived in a small town. Anyway, looks like Harold had physically attacked Sylvia at a picnic. Oh, this is interesting. Make a note for me to go by and talk to Virgie and Harold.”

  I pulled out my cell phone and called Colin. “Brooke,” he said.

  “Colin, it’s Torie. I found a record for a restraining order Sylvia had against the Burgermeisters.”

  “Charity?”

  “No, her in-laws. Harold and Virgie. What have you found?”

  “Well, I talked to Eleanore,” he said. “She said she only told one person about there being a private detective at the Gaheimer House.”

  “Who did she tell?”

  “Danny Eisenbach.”

  “Colin, he was one of the people who showed some discontent with my leadership at the meeting the other night.”

  “Well, I’m pulling into his driveway now. But remember, he could have told ten people by this time. It doesn’t mean he’s our man.”

  “I know. Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I asked her why she had taken the stand against you at the meeting.”

  “And her answer was?”

  “That a group of townspeople had been talking at the last box social and the subject of you came up, and she said before you knew it, there was a consensus that you should be removed from power.”

  “Gee, wonder what would happen if I ran for mayor?”

  “Oh, don’t even go there,” he said. “Besides, I’m running.”

  “What? Get out of here.”

  “No, really, I’ve decided I’m running against Bill next term.”

  “But … can you be sheriff and mayor at the same time?”

  Rudy shot me a look with his eyebrows raised.

  “No,” Colin said.

  “But … you can’t seriously not be sheriff.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he said.

  “Did Eleanore happen to say who all was at this box social?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, “but it was at the Methodist church, so I guess you could just see who attends the church and narrow it down from there. More than likely, you’re looking at one or two people doing the talking and everybody else falling into place.”

  “Well, it’s possible there were people in attendance that aren’t necessarily members of the church, too.”

  “Right.”

  “How’d it go on the alibis of Sylvia’s family?”

  “Everybody’s checking out except David, but even he had an alibi for most of the times in question,” he said. “Charlie was out of town all week. The Franklins, both Julie and Steve, were at some sort of retreat the day of the Strawberry Festival. Toni was at work. And then, oh, who’s the other sister?”

  I scanned my mind. He’d mentioned David and Charlie. He’d mentioned Julie and Toni. That left … oh, who was the other grand niece of Sylvia’s? “Susan!”

  “That’s right. Susan was at a competition.”

  “A what?”


  “She’s a champion horse rider. English style.”

  “Oh.” Learn something new every day. “All right,” I said. “I’ll get back to you if I find anything else.”

  “Hey, Torie. Elmer goes to the Methodist church,” he said. “Why don’t you call him and see if he remembers anything funny going on at the last box social. If he even attended.”

  “I will,” I said. I felt uneasy suddenly. Maybe they’ve got a puppet. What if Elmer was the one wanting me out of office and he was just pretending to be on my side? The mastermind behind the whole thing could be pretending to support me all along and be pushing somebody else’s buttons.

  “What’s the matter?” Rudy asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just getting paranoid.”

  Rudy grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Don’t,” he said. “Plenty of people love you in this town.”

  “But it only takes one crazy one to bring it all down.”

  “You’ll be fine. Crazy people never win.”

  “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Whoever it is is seriously messed up in the head,” he said. “People who would actually act out against somebody because they were jealous … well, they’re just not whole people. There’s something missing in them. Unless they’re like sixteen, because teenagers are just weird.”

  “What’s missing in them?”

  “A soul, for one thing,” he said. “They’re not complete.”

  “All right,” I said and sighed. “I want to see these other two records, and then I’m heading back to the Gaheimer House. I want to make sure everything is all right.”

  “You heard Colin,” he said. “Whoever it is doesn’t want to harm the Gaheimer House.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “I still want to check it.”

  “All right.”

  “But I want to run by the hospital first. Oh, and then the Methodist church,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “I want to see Leigh.”

  “No, the church,” he said.

  “I want a list of their members. You know, I have never paid attention to who goes to what church. I just realized I can’t begin to tell you what religion anybody is in our town.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Today it does.”