Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance
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her hand toward the general direction of the wreck site, now sufficiently cleansed and hidden by the washing and the penetrating darkness.
Charley added, “Dad, I heard that accidents always happen in threes. I hope there isn’t another one soon around here.”
Lucy offered, “Yeah, I heard that too.”
The small talk continued with essentially no discussions about the kids or his work or Sonora’s invitation. He made the mistake of asking about Sonora’s work and regretted it before it was out of his mouth. Still, she responded in an effortless and self-effacing manner, “I’m just a hairdresser. Maybe I’ll have my own shop someday; I’m saving for it, but right now I’m happy with where I work and the rest of the ladies are all nice, and I have nice clients … mostly.” She smiled in the dark, but Army saw it, and caught the inference.
“Well, being good at what you do, and happy with it, is about as good as it gets I guess. You have a great kid in Lucy and she’s extraordinarily smart as well. I think she’s helped Charley with his homework more than a few times. I’m sure they’ve had some of the same teachers since she’s two years ahead of him now.” He couldn’t believe he’d brought up another forbidden subject, released a penitent breath and lied, “I think I saw a flash of green.”
They watched, he looked at his watch, it was 9:30 p.m. but no lights could be seen. Then he realized he had to urinate … badly. He grabbed his flashlight and headed for the woods with Charley in tow. They found a nicely concealed place and did their business, Charley complaining he didn’t have to go, but Army knowing that if he didn’t he would have to go in an hour and they would both be in the cold again.
On the way back to the SUV Charley said, “Hey Dad, I think I saw a green flash up the hill a ways. Army stopped and waited; sure enough he saw it too, a faint streak of green attempting to climb the hill, seemingly going straight in front of them. Charley got pumped and said, “Cool, let’s hurry and tell the ladies about it, before they see it first!”
When they finished the quick, short walk to the SUV, they found the ladies were already talking about the lights with animated enthusiasm. From that point until about 1:00 a.m. all that could be heard in the SUV was exclamations about the lights and the intensity or shape or color. They had a lot of fun and even tried to take pictures. Everyone had a chance to peer through the night vision scope and thought to take pictures that way as well. When all agreed to head for home, they felt like they’d journeyed into another dimension, for they couldn’t settle on a suitable explanation for the lights, their origin, their intensity, or even their degree of realism.
It didn’t take long for the two in the back seat to quiet down on the trip back. When they arrived at the Stottlemeyer apartment, Lucy was out like a light with her head on Charley’s lap. Sonora asked Army if he would carry Lucy into the house, because she would be hard to wake and difficult to manage thereafter. He agreed and easily lifted her off Charley, who immediately lay down in the seat. He laid a shoeless, coatless Lucy in her bed, still fast asleep, and Sonora covered her daughter and kissed her forehead. She thanked Army for the “light entertainment” tongue-in-cheek, and he told her he enjoyed their company. She did likewise and Army entertained a little smile almost all the way home. In a fitting end to the evening, he had to carry his own child into the house and put him in bed like a baby as well.
4.
On Tuesday of the following week, results of fingerprinting were returned to the Sheriff’s Office. The prints for Mr. and Mrs. Davis were positive for the pair, but there were no fingerprints on file to match the third set of digits. The long wait for DNA and explosive residue results began.
The Coroner and Larry decided which parts would be submitted for explosive residue analysis and Les Gilbert alone took care of the DNA submissions. Deputy Clarence Shifley confirmed with a veterinarian in New York that the dog tag belonged to “Barf” Peterson, belonging to Mrs. Lois Peterson of St. Lawrence County, New York. The Sheriff was beside himself with the mystery of Mrs. Peterson and sought help from any duty Deputy he could find or corral. When he asked Army he was given an honest opinion he thought incredible.
Army offered, “For some reason, the folks in New York are mistaken about Mrs. Peterson being there. She was or is apparently a wealthy lady and there are thousands of schemes to pilfer people’s money, Sheriff. We hear about ‘em every day. Thieves are among the best inventors in the universe. As long as they can think of a way not to work and get someone else’s money, they’ll always come up with creative means. I think that’s what we’re up against here. Of course there’s always the possibility Mrs. Peterson got transported out here by a time machine.” He grinned.
The Sheriff didn’t catch the satire and was deep in thought. He responded with, “Perhaps some thieves or grifters took over her life and kept her in her home until they could get rid of her safely in some way. Maybe they stole her car or license plate and were making it to L.A. or Frisco with her money by the back roads and got caught up in this explosion at the roundabout, but why would they have her dog? Perhaps they used another dog for cover. Poodles are easy to come by, and they all look the same. Army, you wanna take a trip to New York? We have some DHS money to spend and I can consider this an explosion that needs investigating to rule out terrorism, so how about it?”
“Oh hell Boss, why me? What will I do about Charley?”
“My God man, you don’t have to ever worry about Charley. You have six or seven brother officers who’ll watch Charley. He can stay with me and Allie if you want. We’ll be glad to have him. You’ll only be gone a few days and it’ll get your mind off things here. You’ll have plenty of time to think and maybe come up with something substantial before the DNA comes back. Work with me Army; we need to show folks we’re occupied with this day and night and what better way than to send an officer of the county to New York to work with investigators there.”
“You make a great case Sheriff. I see where you’re coming from. Have you cleared it with New York yet?”
“Hell no, but I will just as soon as you let me know you’ll go.”
“Okay, sign me up, but you’ll have to advance me some money for a motel. I can handle the rest of it until I get reimbursed.”
“Thanks Army, don’t take a uniform, just your badge and ID. I’ll get your papers from the county today. Leave as soon as you can, and fly from the Bishop Airport. They need the passengers.”
***
We all know New York is butt-cold during December and Army took his winter clothes, but they weren’t nearly enough. It was four degrees Fahrenheit when he arrived in St. Lawrence County. He bought a parka and high over boots since the squeaking cold snow pack was already about 16 inches deep in drifts. He took the rental agency’s advice and rented a four-wheel drive vehicle and wished he had asked for an advance for that too. His motel was accommodating and warm, so it provided a nice attraction at the end of a day’s work. He checked in with the St. Lawrence County Sheriff’s Office and they allowed him unfettered access to Mrs. Peterson’s town and friends. They hadn’t seen the accident site; if they had, a deputy may have been assigned to accompany Army.
He started his quest in Star Lake, a community not much more than a wide spot in the road. He sought out the church Mrs. Peterson belonged to and found the Lutheran pastor, Reverend Shells and his wife. He seemed like a very nice man, and his wife insisted Army have lunch with them, since they didn’t get many out of town visitors in the winter and she was hungry for conversation. The rectory was old, but solid, warm and inviting. Lunch was chicken sandwiches, potato chips and drinks. The sandwiches were delicious.
Unhurried by the occupant’s demeanor or the outside weather, Army felt free and compelled to ask questions and explain why he was there, “I want to thank you for the delicious lunch and information about Mrs. Peterson, but I have to ask some more direct and perhaps personal questions regarding Mrs. Peterson, her life, friends and financial status. None of what you tell me will be made public, since I’ll be using the information to establish what Mrs. Peterson’s status is. However, if there is fowl play involved you may