Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 02 - The Appropriate Way (16 page)

Another older woman said her name, but wouldn’t admit to being an alcoholic. “The judge and my husband insist I come here.”

The leader asked if she could sign her check-list. After signing, which meant the woman attended the meeting, she asked, “Would you like to leave now or would you like to talk?”

“Could I just listen?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” the leader said. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“My name is Sally, and I’m still a recovering alcoholic. Last week my husband was shot to death. The killer might have wanted me dead, but my husband saved me. I’m still sober.”

“Thank God,” the leader said. “Are you going to counseling?”

“No,” Sally said, feeling too weepy. “John was my second husband, and I lost my best friend, a bookman, earlier last year.”

“My Lord,” the new person said. “How do you do it?”

“No cross talk,” the leader said in a kindly tone. “We just listen to each other.”

“Well you told her to see a psychiatrist. I want to know how she survives…without drinking.”

Sally answered, “I pray like a crazy person. Every time I see a white van with ladders on the top, I say the Our Father. Daddy was a house painter, but I figure the universe is reminding me prayers are needed regularly...”

“Would you both explain the first step to our newcomer,” the leader asked.

“We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and our lives had become unmanageable,” one of the remaining women said. “I always drank differently than other people. They mixed soda with the alcohol, or would leave a glass half-finished. Not me. I could
never get enough of the stuff. Then when I decided I wouldn’t drink, I kept on going to bars, partying, speculating on why I couldn’t stop. The program taught me to find a Higher Power, something or someone I could count on, outside of myself. First, I just kept coming to meetings trying to figure out how you all kept sober. This is my second time in the program, but I have a sponsor and three sponsees now.”

“When I first came to the tables. I thought I figured out the deal. It was a God thing. I knew all about that. So I didn’t attend and didn’t get a sponsor. I just stopped drinking. I was a dry drunk for ten years. Then I joined Overeater’s Anonymous and even did a fourth step. But after about five years, I started drinking, not much. But it just increased and increased, until one day before a party, I was ‘testing’ the wine at
three o’clock in the afternoon. So I started coming back. I have a sponsor and I’ve been sober for nearly five years.”

It was Sally’s turn to say something. “I’m glad you’re here for me. I’m going to go home to
Ann Arbor, Michigan, where my sponsor lives.”

“Good idea,” the leader said.

They closed the meeting with the Lord’s Prayer.

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Kane County Sheriff Office

Back at the police station in Geneva, Officer Caldwell helped Tim and Sheriff Woods separate the contents of Matilda’s box. Tim warned her, “Don’t be surprised to find my name on all the letters. Matilda and I were lovers before she married.” He coughed out the truth, “and after.”

Officer Caldwell’s eyes widened, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Sheriff Woods detected what was going on between them. “Why don’t you two take this evidence down to the lab boys in Chicago. Tim, take along Reeves’ water glass, too.”

Officer Caldwell stood and almost snapped to attention. “I won’t need Officer Hanson’s help. I’ll run this batch down by myself. I’m sure you two have other work to do on the case.”

After her abrupt departure, Tim shook his head. “She likes me, but she won’t be able to get over this. How would she explain to her friends or her family? She’s in love with a rounder? Besides, it would be wrong to encourage her. Is it fair to marry someone because they love you? After this case is closed, I plan to leave the force. Leave town.”

Sheriff Woods wanted to say, yes. You can marry someone who loves you. He hoped Gabby was happy with him. He was content. He liked his life and his wife. But he didn’t know how to console his young officer or surmount his problems. “Ask Sally if she needs a partner in
Ann Arbor. You could keep me informed, if she gets into anything she can’t handle.”

Tim seemed to see Sheriff Woods in a new light. “You loved her, once.”

“If this old heart ever gave a beat for anyone but myself,” Sheriff Woods said, “Sally was the cause.”

“Why did you two
break up?”

“I’ve been racking my brains,” Sheriff Woods said. “Can’t remember, or don’t want to. Don’t think I don’t care for Gabby, by the way.”

“She’s a good wife.”

“She’s mine,” Sheriff Woods said, keeping some of his personal business to himself.

Hotel Baker

Sally’s bedside phone rang. She struggled to stay in her nap’ daydream. Ginger and she were in the beautiful kitchen in John’s house. She was explaining to the dog why she wasn’t convinced she could make John happy. “I didn’t buy him any presents, yet.” Ginger cocked her head and raised her ears. “I wish we talked more about God. I wanted to tell him Mathew’s Biblical comment about whoever provides a drink of water to a believer, is also saved.”

In the dream Ginger barked and waged her tail. So Sally turned around to face the doorway. John was just leaving. She called his name, but he didn’t turn. She thought she heard him say, “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

Her dreamscape shifted to the bookshop in Ann Arbor. Her first husband, Danny Bianco, with his shock of white hair and John with his bald head were arguing with Robert Koelz about which sweater to wear.

Sally answered into the receiver, cupped to her ear, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well,” Sheriff Woods said, “I’ll probably agree, but tell me anyway.”

“Tell you what?” Sally asked, coming fully to her senses.

“I can’t remember and it is slowly driving me crazy. You know I’m happily married. As happy as I assume I should be. This is not a ploy.”

She could hear him take a deep breath. “You want to know why we broke up.”

“Exactly. Do you know the chapter and verse?”

“I do. You were in a funk about Tony. Angry at all women for his suicide.” Sally stopped. “Are you sure you want to go over this?”

“It is gnawing at me. I probably acted like a dim-witted fool. Please, just tell me what I did.”

“Nothing horrible. I was shy and couldn’t tell you about a physical complication.”

“What?”

“You demanded intercourse with me. We were not even engaged. I told you no. So, you said not to call you until I was ready. I think your exact words were, ‘to give it up.’ I thought I would never see you again. I’d enrolled in an English night course at Elgin’s Community College. One of the teachers hit a nerve when he said most of the people attending were not interested in learning, they were looking for mates because they didn’t connect to anyone in
highschool. I’d already spent six lonely months and I remember thinking the virginity stuff wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. So, I called you.” Sally brushed her white hair away from her eyes.

“What did I do?”

“Well after I called you to make the date, my period arrived. Thank the Lord. I thought we would date for a while before you demanded more again. And I missed you. I think I really did love you at the time. Anyway, we went to a movie, or something, before you made your move, as we used to call it. I told you no. But I couldn’t tell you why I needed to delay. I was too embarrassed. We weren’t as open back then as teenagers are now. You called me a tease and took me home in silence. I never called you again.”

Sheriff Woods said, “I was so stupid. Will you accept an apology, at this late date?”

“We were very young. I forgave you years ago. Do you remember any of the scenes, now?”

“The truth is I don’t. The last thing I remember is sitting with you in the Log Cabin restaurant and getting incredibly angry at a waitress.”

Someone was knocking on the hotel’s door. “Art, I mean Sheriff Woods, someone is at the door.”

“Good-bye, Sally. And, thanks. Tim and I will be over about four.”

Betty and James Nelson invited themselves in. “We have good news for you,” bald James said.

Ginger stayed glued to Sally’s heels, following her around the room. The dog didn’t notice James’ physical resemblance to his former master.

“True.” Betty sat down in the small dining room, placing her purse on her lap. Her white hair sparkled from the light over the table.

“John did change his will,” James explained. “The house, stock holdings, share of the hotel and savings accounts are all yours.”

“Oh, he complicated everything, didn’t he? Betty, should I ring for room service? Would you like a cup of coffee, or tea?”

Betty shook her head. “I’m happy for you.”

“What is the name of the lawyer?”

“Silas Pike,” James said.

“I’ll call him to arrange a Quick Claim Deed to turn over the house and the hotel to you,” Sally looked directly at Betty. “I’m sure John would understand.”

James said. “John wanted you to live in the house.”

Sally tried to explain. “If I grew old with John, as we planned to, this would make sense. However, after this case is solved, I intend to return home to my condominium in Ann Arbor. You understand, don’t you, Betty?”

“James is right,” Betty placed her purse on the floor and
cozied up to the table. “You are being very generous.”

“You’re welcome. It’s fun to play lady bountiful. But really, I’m sure John would approve. Now how about tea? Sheriff Woods and Tim should be here directly. We’re going out to the
Montgomerys’ to ask a slew of questions.”

“I could use a drink,” Betty said.

“Not in this room,” James said, sounding exactly like John for a second.

Sally called room service for tea. “Five people, three of whom are men. In other words, bring enough for eight. And a carafe of coffee, too. You don’t keep dog biscuits, do you.”

Ginger wagged her tail at the word biscuit.

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After Tim and Sheriff Woods consumed every morsel of food Sally provided at the hotel, they drove her to
Wayne. Sally appropriated the back seat, hoping to prime the two police officers with enough unanswered questions to make the trip a decisive, perhaps final, visit. “We need to know why Peter is lying.”

“Tim is quitting the force,” Sheriff Woods said.

“Why is that?” Sally hoped to turn the conversation back to the case as quickly as possible.

“My reputation,” Tim said, in a tone implying Sally already knew the answer.

“A little humility will patch up your honor in no time.” Sally prayed she sounded encouraging, not just impatient. “Would you like a dog to keep you company? Ginger seemed to switch loyalties as soon as you entered the hotel room.”

“He’s interested in returning to
Ann Arbor with you.” Sheriff Woods kept his eyes on the winter road ahead of them.

“To work for you.” Tim turned around to face Sally. “I like Ginger. I guess a dog would give me someone to take care of.”

“I’d be glad for you to join the Tedler detective agency. I miss Ann Arbor. I made a few friends I hope don’t forget me. I’m not really a dog person though. Walking Ginger at five degrees below zero in the early morning doesn’t sound appealing to me. 

“I could write you a recommendation for the police department,” Sheriff Woods said.

“But Tim,” Sally said. “I think you should spend some time evaluating your future,” She tried not to lecture. “Will you succumb to …”

“Temptation?” Tim finished for her.

“I don’t mean just women.” Sally wanted to state the job’s requirements for integrity clearly. “Tim, I met you when you were two years old, but I don’t know what your priorities are.”

“Not money.” Tim turned in the front seat to smile at Sally.

“Okay, good. But spiritually, Tim? What is your relationship with the Lord, as you understand Him?”

“I’m thankful to own the will power to stop seeing Matilda.”

“I believe I’m powerless.” Sally waited for the shift in attitude to sink in, before she added, “I’m only speaking for myself, but I turned my will over to my Higher Power. I don’t know how I could exist as a sober, ethical person without my conscious contact with God.”

“You mean, He talks to you?” Sheriff Woods slowed the car to a crawl.

“No. I mean I ask His help to do His will.”

“How do you know what it is?” Tim asked.

“I’m never sure, but I ask, daily, for help to trust Him more.”

“I could.” Tim faced the road ahead. “I’m looking forward to claiming Ginger.”

“Can’t ask more of the boy,” Sheriff Woods said.

Sally laughed. “I’m sure I’ll be asking a great deal of Detective Tim Hanson.”

As they turned west on Territorial Road, Sally was startled to see the sun so low in the sky. She struggled to uncover her watch from the sleeve of her alpaca coat. “What time is it?”

“Nearly four,” Tim said.

“Shouldn’t the days be getting longer?”

“Not yet, Sally,” Sheriff Woods said. “It is only the tenth of January.”

“A lot has happened, since the first.” Tim’s tone was sympathetic.

Sally admitted her world completely changed in those five days. John was killed on the fifth. She vaguely recalled the memorial service in the Hotel Baker. “Was I given any sedatives?”

“Why do you ask?” Sheriff Woods slowed the car again.

“The grieving process jumbled memories of Jill’s wedding reception with the going’s on at John’s affair. I complained about the dress I was wearing, didn’t I?”

“We understood.” Tim and Sheriff Woods commented in unison.

Sally felt a warm touch on her cheek bone, where John usually gave her a peck when he was leaving. “I’m okay,” she said to John and the police officers in the front seat.

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They drove by the Masters’ home, where a bevy of new two-by-fours rose above the ruins of the
arsoned home. “I thought they would wait for spring,” Sheriff Woods said.

“Money,” Tim said, “With enough money, the earth would spin counter-clockwise.”

“No,” Sally said. “It wouldn’t. But money can pay enough wages for workers to get frostbite.”

“She doesn’t approve,” Sheriff Woods kidded.

“I used to get beat up in grade school,” Sally said. “I was always the do-gooder. The kids would pound me right to the ground for not keeping my mouth shut.”

Tim struggled with his seat belt to face Sally. “I’m glad you talked to
me.”

Sally smiled at him. “Before we pull into the
Montgomerys’ drive, let’s go over the case.”

“Peter’s lying,” Tim said.

“Why did Peter think his wife needed a lawyer?” Sheriff Woods asked.

“And who rang Peter’s cell phone, when he was at the police station?” Sally asked.

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Montgomery Home in Wayne

Sally counted six people in the Montgomery living room. Peter and Geraldine Masters were seated across from the couch where their daughter, Matilda, and Reverend Rosemary Warner sat. After hanging the officers’ and Sally’s coats in the entranceway, Carolyn and Anthony Montgomery brought extra chairs into the living room. Sally wondered why no one arranged for a lawyer to be present.

“Is your wife’s lawyer coming?” Sheriff Woods asked, as he stood with his back to the fireplace. He motioned for Tim and Sally to sit in the green wingback chairs on either side of the fire. The twin orange cats assumed their positions on Tim and Sally’s laps.

“We intend to cooperate,” Peter Masters answered.

Matilda turned toward Tim. “I want to apologize, publicly.”

Sally concluded Reverend Warner had enacted a miracle. “How long have you known the Montgomerys?” she asked the minister.

“Since they lost their son,” Rev. Warner said.

Sally reminded herself she was sitting in a house purchased with funds obtained by fraud. “You know Tony committed suicide?”

“Yes,” Rev. Warner said. “A real loss.”

Sally looked at Sheriff Woods who glared at her. ‘Police discretion,’ Sally’s mind repeated a phrase from a justice system course she took in college. Sheriff Woods would not prosecute the Montgomerys for using Tony’s insurance, even if he believed a crime was committed. Nothing would bring Tony back from the grave, or John Nelson for that matter.

Rev. Warner asked Sally, “How are you holding up?”

“With the Lord’s help.” Sally hoped she didn’t answer too quickly. She didn’t mean to imply she took God’s grace and her renewal of strength lightly. So she repeated. “His real support.”

Rev. Warner nodded her head in understanding.

Sheriff Woods asked again. “Mr. Masters, why did you think your wife was involved in Enid Krimm’s death?”

Matilda answered. “We’re going to tell you everything.”

Carolyn Montgomery placed an extra chair next to Peter’s side of the couch. Carolyn nodded and then smiled at Peter.

Matilda continued, “I had been asking Mother repeatedly for a picture of my grandfather. But because the house burned down, I told her at breakfast I wouldn’t be bugging her for the picture anymore.”

Geraldine Masters looked at her husband. “Peter thought Matilda asked me for his picture.”

“Then they called me,” Reverend Warner interrupted to explain. “This morning.”

Peter acted as if he was going to stand, but changed his mind and sank even lower in the upholstered couch. “I gave the picture I thought they meant to Carolyn.”