Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance

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Hell's Roundabout - Benjamin Vance


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to get in the home and if the truth be told, Army was very anxious to see it too, based on what he’d heard from Chiara.

      They all took off their coats and overshoes and started with the very large study and library combination. There were mementos everywhere that suggested the Peterson’s had a childless, but otherwise rich and active life together. Army instructed the other two to look for anything that might suggest that Mrs. Peterson left quickly or was kidnapped. They found nothing of the kind, but what they did find were photographs of the mine in its heyday, with descriptions of mining procedures and minerals extracted. There were strange geologic names Army had to write down to be sure they could be referenced later; for what reason, he didn’t know … yet, and he photographed everything of interest.

      The trio stayed in the house and toured outbuildings for about two hours and found nothing more that could be construed as out of place or incriminating to any party. Mr. Tanner was helpful and upbeat, and Army found Chiara to be insightful and very intelligent. It was she who realized that the day Mrs. Peterson disappeared was the anniversary of Mr. Peterson’s death. That assured Army the most probable automobile to make the tracks at the cemetery was Mrs. Peterson’s Prius.

      When the trio finally stepped outside and prepared to leave, they found the sun peeking through the clouds and very little snow still drifting through the crisp air. Army announced he was going to take another stab at uncovering the tire tracks on the hill overlooking the mine. Chiara asked if she could go and on the way asked if they could check for tracks on the three roads accessing the lake. He asked why, but before she answered, he understood. She thought Mrs. Peterson may have driven her heavy Prius into the lake to end her own life.

      Army swept the load of snow from three sections of one track, took photos, but was not convinced the vehicle backed over its tracks. They actually found four entrances to the lake, but found no other tire tracks at all. Since the trenched-lake was not a great fishing hole and difficult to approach, apparently Star Lake itself remained much more of an attraction for fishermen and skaters.

      Chiara seemed pensive during their circumnavigation of the lake and he ascribed it to losing a good friend. However, she finally spoke up and asked that they visit the home of a family she thought may know a caretaker of the mine property. She didn’t know for sure there was a caretaker, but had heard Lois refer to an old caretaker a couple of times.

      Army offered, “If there is a caretaker, he may be able to offer some insights as to what was mined there and if anyone has been living around the area of the mine or trespassing.”

      Chiara hesitated, looked at him, grinned and said, “Now please don’t think I’m nuts, but there’s a lot of superstition about that mine. People around here think it’s haunted or some of the souls of the guys killed there during the war haunt the place. People have reported seeing people walking on the lake in the summer, strange lights around the lake and stuff like that. I heard that during thunder storms lightning hits on that hill more than anywhere else around here and people actually have souvenirs of lightning strike glass; where lightning melts the sand or dirt into strike-looking glass objects. I’ve actually seen one and it’s pretty neat.”

      She was quiet then and was looking through her own reflection on the passenger side window, toward the lake disappearing behind them. He turned his head to catch her reflection and her face seemed haloed by the condensation on the inside of the window, giving her a Madonna-like appearance. He said, “Hey, I’m really sorry about Mrs. Peterson. I’m going to get to the bottom of this mess if I possibly can. If you could see the accident site in my hometown you’d understand why I’m going to make this my mission.”

      She turned her head from the window to address him, “You understand that it’s physically impossible for the remains in that accident to be those of Lois, don’t you? I saw her the day she disappeared and the night of the accident in California. There is no way she could have been there unless she flew with her car in a big Jet.”

      “I’m going to look into that too, if things don’t make sense around here. We know it happened that night, which would have been between 12 midnight and 2:00 a.m. here. When exactly did you see her last?”

      “I saw her wave to me from her front porch at about 5:00 p.m. on her way to church for Bible study. I watched her drive away. It was a beautiful, clear night, with a snow storm brewing.” Chiara looked out her window again and wiped her nose with a tissue.

      She didn’t talk much then, except to give directions. They arrived at the designated home about 4:00 p.m. and Chiara went in to talk to the owners. When she returned, she had a closed-lip smile on her face, and it made her look even more beautiful. When she got in, she removed her blue toboggan to rearrange her thick, fragrant long hair and said, “We need to turn around and take the first right.”

      They pulled up to their second destination about 4:30 p.m. and there was an old man waiting on the front porch of a beautiful fieldstone home; a bit Scandinavian in style, trim and color scheme; a green metal roof and three cheerfully painted dormers indicating a second floor. As they exited the SUV the old man’s face broke out in a big smile. He stuck out his hand as they climbed the porch stairs and introduced himself as Truly Anderson, and his impossibly big smile got bigger when he took Chiara’s hand. They were invited in and accepted heartily, since it was butt cold outside.

      Army deferred to Chiara after they settled into chairs and accepted the charity of hot mint tea. Once into tea sipping and after thanking Mr. Anderson for his hospitality, Chiara related all she knew about Lois Peterson’s disappearance to Mr. Anderson. Army told him the abbreviated details about the California accident and Truly Anderson just shook his head.

      After contemplating his cup of tea for a moment he said, “You may never find dis lady. She maybe disappeared vith her auto-mobile. Many t’ings happen around dat damned mine ve don’t know about, you know. I vurry about dem kids from dat college ven dey come to look at rocks, you know. Dem geologist guys come and camp out, and I vurry about dem too. Dey’ve seen lights. I know because dey tell me dis and dat and laugh about it. It’s no laughin’ matter, by golly. People been disappearing up dere for a hunnert years; equipments too. Doze gents who run da mine yust say dose union folks steal equipment, but I know it yust poofs into da sky durin’ a storm,”

      When he stopped to take a sip of tea, Army asked, “Everybody talks about the lights Mr. Anderson. What color are they and when are they seen?”

      “Ya, dey’re seen at night of course, mostly very late, you know. Mostly green and blue I tink and in da Vintertime only. No lights in storms dough. Lightnin’ strikes mostly in da summertime and very bad, but if lightnin’ in da vinter, people and stuff gonna disappear, you betcha.”

      “You mean that things only disappear in the winter during storms?”

      “Ya, and people too.”

      Chiara butted in with wide eyes and a look of anticipation, “There was lightning the night Lois disappeared, not much though, just threatening.”

      “If she vas on dat hill she’s gone somevere else, I betcha.”

      Army asked, “What hill Mr. Anderson?”

      “Dat damned hill above dat lake. Dat’s vere dat equipment vent from and dat’s vere da guys vent from too. Dere’s somethin’ in dat damned hill. Dat little railroad vas cut yust like a damned velder did it, so supervisor guy says da union stole everyt’ing and took it avay, but dey never find it.”

      Army asked, “You mean there was a processing plant on the hill and ore train rails up to it?”

      “Ya, dat’s vat I’m sayin’. And dem guys are gone too and dey don’t care. Dey yust care about dat damned equipment.”

      Chiara asked, “How many guys went missing Mr. Anderson?”

      “Plese call me Truly. Dere vere two guys gone dat time.”

      “You mean there’ve been more people gone missing from around here?” she blurted.

      “Dat’s vhat I been tryin’ ta tell ya, girl. I’fe heard of tree or four myself


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