Outrunning Villainy

Chapter 9: Minnesota Miscreants

Chapter 9: Minnesota Miscreant





Andrew felt the cold metal hood of the car with its complement of bug guts grinding into his face, his rights being recited. The cold sucked every last bit of warmth from his face. He could see the smokestacks of human breath as the officers and he breathed into the frigid night air. The puffs of his breath being blown away in the increasing wind of the night. The cold metal of the handcuffs wrapped their unforgiving fingers around his wrists. He was jerked up and shoved in the direction of the waiting patrol car. The door yanked open, he was thrust inside. He watched the goings on outside. Where was Engrid? She’d disappeared. He heard the police shouting and scrambling that she was getting away. He watched in horror as Andy lifted his pistol from its holster. Engrid was about to be gunned down. But Andy lifted the pistol high in the air and fired a warning shot. Despite having seen it coming, Andrew still jumped at the sharp crack of the gun. His heart raced…would Engrid be shot if she didn’t stop running? Would she die running for her life?


After a few moments, an officer jumped behind the wheel of the car and started the engine. Andrew watched as the scene grew smaller. They went up an embankment of the exit to turn around and head back to Fargo. He watched through the window and saw Engrid’s tiny frame moving quickly beneath the streetlights beside a row of homes.


The squad car made its return on the overpass and headed back down onto the lanes of the freeway. He could see the glowing lights of Fargo as they passed over the Red River separating the two states. Andrew sat back in the seat. There was nothing more he could do. The race was over and he’d lost. At long last he’d been caught. There was a sense of relief as the realization set in that he was no longer in control of the situation. He was no longer responsible for its outcome. It seemed silly that he’d ever deluded himself into thinking he was in control of it. The lateness of the hour and the stress of the past few days caught up with him as the hum of the car engine continued and he interior of the car grew warm. Even though it was only a few minute drive from the scene to the police station, Andrew almost found himself dozing off. The car bumped over a few rumble strips and rolled into the police station parking lot. He jerked back to attention as the car pulled up to the back of the station. He was extracted from the car and led in his bondage up the back steps and into the building.


The attending officers got him processed, fingerprinted, mug shot, orange jumpsuit, and all the accoutrements of incarceration. Andrew said no more than he absolutely had to he didn’t want to say anything to anyone. All he wanted to do was get some sleep. Preferably at home, but for the moment, a North Dakotan jail cell would have to do. He was led down the bleak corridor and placed in a cell about midway down. It was a blank little box with cinderblock walls, two gunmetal gray bunk beds covered in navy blue woolen blankets, and a toilet sitting out where the whole world could watch him use it. Privacy was not even an option. As badly as he had to go, it was an embarrassment he might just have to endure at the hands of his captors.


When the officers locked the doors and left the corridor, Andrew listened quietly to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity. This must be some holding area before transfer, since there didn’t seem to be anyone else pinned up in here. Once he was reasonably certain he was alone, he utilized the ‘facilities’ and settled himself down on the bottom bunk. Once quiet had set in, he had time to think. The first and only image in his mind was that of Evan…a heartbroken Evan sitting alone in that big house, wondering where his lover had vanished to. Andrew thought about how much he loved Evan. Quite frankly, he’d been so caught up in his own problems, he really hadn’t stopped to think how all this would affect Evan. He felt guilty that he’d given more thought to Engrid than Evan. Like an abandoned child, Evan must be wondering what he did to make Andrew leave him so cavalierly. Evan must think that he isn’t really loved by anyone.


“I’m sorry,” Andrew said to the bottom of the top bunk, “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”


Andrew rolled over on the itchy woolen blanket and cried. He was so lonely, afraid and wracked with guilt. The coolness of the cell crept in on him and he rolled up in the blanket to get warm. He was still haunted by what he did to Evan in leaving him without a word or a warning. He wouldn’t blame him if Evan hated him and left him forever. He looked up and saw a small piece of paper crammed into the metal slats holding the upper bunk up. He reached up and extracted the little sliver from its perch.





                                       #





Meanwhile, back at Wal-Mart, the stern looking woman approached Engrid while the mousy clerk kept his distance.


“Please come with me.” She motioned for Engrid to come.


Engrid looked around and then came towards her, leaving her items on the counter by the till. The woman took her though a nondescript metal door to an equally nondescript little room with a folding table and two chairs. She sat down in one chair and motioned for Engrid to do the same. Engrid did, though not with any excitement, only with the dread of impending doom.


“My name is Marguerite, what’s yours?”


“Engrid,” she nervously fiddled with the edges of her nightgown.


“It’s nice to meet you, Engrid. What brings you out here this late?”


“Um…I decided to beat the crowd and come in at night.”


“Okay. Please show me what you have in your pockets.”


“My pockets?” Engrid was genuinely confused by the request.


“Yes…your nightgown’s pockets are bulging. We’ve been having some theft lately. Please remove what is in your pockets.”


“Oh.” She pulled out her curlers and sat them on the table, “This is all. I forgot to take them out before I left the house.”


Marguerite looked at the items. “You’re sure that’s all you have in your pockets?”


“Yes…except my money of course…to pay for the items I was purchasing.” Engrid held up the wad of rubber banded cash Andrew had given her in St. Louis.


“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” Marguerite’s expression softened now that she wasn’t dealing with a potential shoplifter.


“It’s okay. I guess I do look a little odd, being in a nightgown and all.”


“This time of night, we get all sorts of people coming in.”


“I’m sure you do.”


“Do you have place to go? There’s a winter storm moving into town overnight tonight. You can’t stay outside.”


“Already? It’s not even November yet.”


“Winter comes early to this part of the world. Where are you from?”


“Upstate South Carolina.”


The clerk was visibly surprised, “How on earth did you get way up here?”


“Very long story…so there’s a winter storm tonight?”


“Yes. It’s supposed to have already started snowing. I guess the storm is slower than they were predicting. I mean no offence, but I can call some people and see if I can get you into a shelter tonight. If you don’t have somewhere to go, that is.


“I would appreciate it. How do you know people at homeless shelters?”


“I volunteer through my church. The church runs one during cold weather. I will call the pastor and see if there’s room. If not, you can stay with me.”


“That would be wonderful.”


“You’re welcome. I’m sorry we thought you might be a shoplifter.”


“That’s okay. I would have done the same if I saw someone in this shape at the register.”


“Let me take you back out to the register. I’m sure Derek is finished ringing up your purchases by now.” Marguerite stood and guided Engrid back out to the register where Derek was waiting, her purchases rung up and bagged. She paid cash for the items and he handed her her first bags of being a bag lady. Engrid took them and smiled.


She turned to Marguerite, “Can I go into the restroom to change?”


“Yes,” Marguerite turned and walked away, presumably to call her pastor.


Derek already had another customer approaching and turned to offer his services again. Engrid hurried into the restroom and changed out of her nightgown and into the clothes she’d bought. She donned her coat and headed out of the store and back into the night. She decided she couldn’t risk a shelter. Given what happened with Amanda, she figured they might look for her in a homeless shelter. She felt somewhat guilty for running off on Marguerite and her generous offer. The wind had begun to pick up and Engrid was quite grateful for her warm clothes. She’d lived in South Carolina so long that cold weather was not to her liking. In South Carolina, this was dead of winter if it even got that cold then. The temperature was dropping fast. Engrid hurried into the darkness at the edge of the parking lot, out of range of the security cameras. She would have to get somewhere warm…and soon.


As she walked along the street, a light flurry began to trickle out of the night sky. The aforementioned winter storm was beginning to roll into western Minnesota. Before she could make it to the traffic light at the corner of Highway 10 and 34th Street North, the snow was falling at a pretty fast clip. The wind was picking up fast, blowing the white tendrils around her legs. Her coat and accoutrements kept her upper body warm, but she’d forgotten to take care of her lower half. Before she got to the street, she heard police sirens. She ducked into a parking lot and hid behind a tree. She peeked out from behind the tree, “What is this? Some kind of test?”


The police passed by and sped off into the night. The snow was coming down hard now. The dry, icy flakes stung her face. She kept walking. She needed to keep moving so she could stay warm. Perhaps she should have taken Marguerite up on her offer of shelter for the night. Surely jail couldn’t be worse than freezing to death out here in the cold.


Engrid walked and walked, hoping to find something. The cold and snow were playing on her mind. Several times, she thought she saw shadows moving. But it was probably just a trick of the light. The wind was a whistle now, quickly approaching scream as the snow relentlessly and mercilessly blew in her face. She heard a loud sound approaching from behind her. She vowed not to turn around…for some reason she was now paranoid that whatever it was, it meant her only harm. No good could come from turning around. The large 18-wheeler roared to a stop a few yards ahead of her. The driver got out, wrapped his coat tight around his robust frame and approached the diminutive old woman in the driving snow.


“You shouldn’t be out here, ma’am. I will drive you home. Where do you live?”


“No,” she replied, “I’m fine.”


“Seriously, ma’am, this storm is going to get a lot worse. You need to head home. Where do you live?”


“Winnipeg,” she replied, “I’m lost and my car broke down.”


“Where is your car?”


“I don’t know. I’ve been walking for hours, I have no idea where I am,” Engrid’s eyes welled up with tears as the desperation set in.


“Get in my truck, please. At least it’s warm in there.”


Engrid approached the large rig, its stack billowing a white cloud of exhaust into the frigid air. Once inside, the trucker gave her some hot cocoa from his thermos.


“I’m Olaf Gunnunderson, what’s your name?”


“Engrid.”


“It’s nice to meet you, Engrid.”


She looked out of the window.


“Engrid, let me level with you, I don’t think you’re really from Winnipeg.”


“Why is that?”


“Anyone from around here or central Canada knows that you don’t leave your vehicle during a snowstorm. Only a person from a warmer climate would make that mistake.”


“It was a mistake to leave my vehicle, wasn’t it?”


“Yes. You could have died out there. But I’ll make sure you survive the night.”


“Thank you, Olaf…that’s very kind of you.”


“You’re welcome. Now, where are you really from?”


“Deerfield, South Carolina.”


“How did you end up here?”


“I’m running away.”


“Ah…who or what are you running away from?”


“The police…they think I did something I didn’t do.”


“Why do they think you did it if you didn’t?”


“Actually, I’m not sure if I’m the one who is accused.”


“Then why are you the one wondering the streets in the middle of the night?”


“He was arrested and I made a run for it.”


“But you’re innocent…why didn’t you just go with him? Now you look guilty.”


“I know, I know, it was stupid but I was scared and in a blind panic. I just did, okay?”


“Okay, okay. It’s fine now. Where do you want me to take you?”


“I don’t know. You can drop me off wherever you feel like.”


“If you’re innocent and not accused, then I should take you to the police station so you can bail your friend out of jail.”


“No, no, that’s the last place I want to go.”


“I can take you to get something to eat.”


“That would be nice.”


“I’ll take you to the diner at a truck stop out on the interstate. Maybe we can get you set up with a ride back to South Carolina.”


“If I wanted to go back to South Carolina, I could turn myself in.”


“I thought you were innocent?”


“I am. But the police don’t know that.”


“I think you should go to the police and straighten this whole mess out. But that’s just my opinion. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”


Engrid said nothing for a few minutes. She weighed her options. “Okay.”


“The police station is only a few miles from here.”


“It’s the police station in Fargo.”


“Oh, okay. That’ll take a few minutes more, but it’s not far across the river.” Olaf Gunnunderson put his rig in gear and drove off down the street. Engrid was grateful to be out of that wicked wind. The truck moved through the deepening snow and merged onto the deserted intestate heading back to North Dakota and judgment day. Engrid said nothing for the remainder of the trip. Olaf didn’t want to know more, just in case. Engrid found it slightly disturbing that Mr. Gunnunderson knew precisely where the Fargo Police Department was located.


“This is it,” he announced.


“The end of the road,” Engrid mumbled to herself and got out of the truck. She jumped down to the pavement and made her way cautiously through the snow to the door. Olaf watched until she disappeared safely inside. He drove away leaving Engrid to her fate while he went to that diner at the truck stop out on the interstate to get some food.


Engrid pulled open the door and stepped in out of the wind. The young man behind the desk greeted her, “Good evening!”


“Good? Well I guess I’m alive, I suppose that’s good.”


“Yes it is,” he smiled, “What can I help you with?”


“Well, I’m here to see someone who was recently arrested.


“What’s your name?”


“E…my name is Rebecca Peterson. I’m here to see Andrew Garrison.”


“Andrew Garrison…the guy they just brought in.”


“Yes, he was arrested out on the freeway a few hours ago. I’m his, um, grandmother.”


“Okay, ma’am. Wait just a moment.”


“Okay.”


“You can have some coffee while you wait, if you want.”


“That would be nice,” she walked over to the little service table and fixed herself a Styrofoam cup of hot, stale coffee. The polite young man disappeared into the back of the station. Engrid glanced around. A much older, gruffer man appeared, “I’m Chief Pendergast, what do you want?”


“I want to bail Andrew Garrison out of jail. I’m his grandmother, Rebecca Peterson.”


“I’m afraid you can’t do that. Bail has not been set yet.”


“Can I see him?”


“Just a minute…” As Chief Pendergast flipped through some papers, an all too familiar face appeared in the doorway to the back.


“Get her!” the voice yelled as Andy van Uuden came bursting through the door.


“What?” Pendergast barked at his young charge.


Andy rushed ahead as Engrid turned to flee, her nerve giving out. Andy grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.”


“This is her.”


“This is Rebecca Peterson, you idiot.”


“It’s an alias, sir, I was eye to eye with this woman… this is Engrid Matthews.”


He shoved her in front of Chief Pendergast, “This is the woman who escaped…twice.”


“Call the South Carolina people and let them know we have them both in custody.”


Andy put the cuffs on her and took her to the back. He tossed her into a holding cell. On the bunk was a lump under the covers. Andrew peeked out, he’d fallen asleep.


“What are you doing here?”


“I gave up. We’ve been beat, Andrew. I guess this is just our fate.”


“Fate? That’s not Engrid.”


“I know…but God sure has vanished tonight.”


“Not necessarily.”


She looked over at him, the annoyance clear on her face, “What it that supposed to mean?”


“I’ve been sitting in this little jail cell thinking.”


“Okay. I’ve been out there freezing my ta-ta’s off running from the police.”


“Well, when I laid down here to go to sleep, I found this stuck in the metal thing holding the upper bunk up.” He handed her a little crumpled piece of paper.


She read it, “If I am guilty, woe to me…even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head…I am drowned in my affliction.”


“I wonder what that is.”


“It sounds like something from Job.”


“That’s the one who suffers because God was bored.”


Engrid chuckled, “No…not exactly, it was about a man who suffers unjustly because of Satan, the adversary.”


“The devil?”


“Yes. In the story, the devil goes to God and tells him that Job is only faithful because God has been good to him. So, God lets the devil test Job to prove that Job will be faithful regardless. The story then is that Job suffers terribly and his friends tell him that obviously he’s suffering because he sinned. Even his wife tells him the same thing. But the reality is that God sees that Job is still faithful despite all that the devil does to him, so he rewards Job.”


Andrew leaned back on his bunk, so Job remained faithful and it all worked out in the end. I guess that’s a good thing.”


Engrid smiled, “It is.”


“Are you Job?”


“It would appear, as of late” Engrid replied, “God has indeed been good to me all my life. I had a wonderful childhood, a loving husband, good children, a long and healthy life, I guess this is just a way of checking up on me to make sure I’m faithful regardless. I wasn’t. I flunked.”


“What do you mean?”


“While I was out in the blizzard, I thought that God had abandoned me. All the bizarre series of events that have happened, all spawned by a good deed done by us it was just too much. All I could think about was a passage we studied in Sunday School last week. It goes, “I say to God my Rock, ‘Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?’ My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, "Where is your God?" Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.’”


“I guess that was me.”


Engrid looked over at him.


“When we were about to be arrested, I asked, ‘Where is God now?’ I said it.”


Engrid looked thoughtful for a moment, “I guess you did. At the time, it didn’t register, but maybe that’s why it popped into my head later.”


“What does it mean?”


“I don’t know. Maybe this is just some big cosmic test. If it is, thus far we’re both failing miserably.”


“I don’t know.”


“We haven’t cursed God and died yet.”


She looked at him, he had been listening to her lessons, “No, I don’t suppose we have.”


“So, when do we turn the corner?”


“What corner?”


“When did Job’s suffering end and the blessings come around?”


“I don’t remember. Job and God go back and forth…arguing I guess…Job says, ‘how could you’ and God says ‘because I can and who are you to even ask me that.’ But I really don’t remember right now when the shift occurs. I think it might be at the very end.”


“Because I can?”


“That’s not the best phrasing, but that’s how it feels to me right now. The point of it all is that God has free will too and doesn’t need our approval for what he does.”


“I guess God can do whatever he wants.”


“If you created the universe and everything in it, I guess you could pretty much do what you want. It seems unfair to us, but then who am I? God’s been around since infinity…I’ve only been here since 1920. I do well to keep a few marigolds alive while God keeps the whole universe going.”


Andrew laid on the bunk and stared up. Engrid paced the floor of the cell, her nerves still jangled by all that had happened. She was disappointed in herself that she hadn’t been more trusting, but then some pretty off-the-wall stuff had happened to her lately. She walked over to the bars and looked down the corridor.


“I wonder what will happen to us in the morning.” Andrew asked aloud.


“I don’t know. We’ll probably be taken back to South Carolina to face charges for kidnapping that girl. I don’t know what else could happen.”


“This will all work out okay,” Andrew said, sitting up on the bunk.


“How do you know that?”


“I don’t know. I just do. You know how you get a feeling sometimes.”


“After all this, you really think this is going to work out okay?”


         Andrew thought about it for a moment, “Yes…yes I do.”


Andrew smiled and leaned back down on the bunk. “You should get some sleep, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He stretched out his arms and cradled his head on his hands.


Engrid eyed him. He was acting oddly. He had some strange sense of peace about this whole awful mess. She felt like she should too, but couldn’t seem to find that within herself.


She climbed up into the top bunk and lay down. She tossed and turned and waited for morning. Sometime after she dozed off, the metal door at the end of the corridor opened. She rolled over and tried to see who it was. It was the polite young man from the front desk earlier in the evening. He had a set of keys in his hand. What could he be up to?


He stopped in front of their cell, “Mrs. Matthews…Mr. Garrison, it’s time to wake up.”


Andrew sleepily rolled over as Engrid began her descent to the floor.


“Where do we go from here?” she asked, “Can I have a shower?”


“Yes. You can bathe, if you want to then where you go is up to you.”


“What does that mean?”


“It means that you are free to go.”


Engrid and Andrew looked blank.


“The girl you were accused of kidnapping insists that neither of you are involved. She saw pictures of you and says that she was kidnapped by someone else.”


“Are you serious?” Andrew said, instantly awake and standing.


“Yes. We got the phone call from Agent Sørenson of South Carolina’s State Law Enforcement Division this morning, all charges are dropped and you are free to go home.”


“Thank you!” Engrid gushed, “I can’t believe it. You were right, Andrew. This did all work out just fine.”


“Your car is being brought back from the impound lot and will be ready for you in 20 minutes. I have some bagels and coffee out front if you’re interested.”


He unlocked the door and escorted them further down the hallway.


“Where are we going?”


“To get your shower. By the time you finish, your car should be ready to go.”


Engrid went in the women’s side and Andrew into the men’s shower area. Engrid felt light as a feather as she washed her hair and soaped off that wretched night that she would never forget. The fear, the panic, the dread, all melted away as she cleaned herself thoroughly in the heat of that shower water. As she got dressed, life never felt better. This day was going to be one of the happiest of her life. She ate the best bagel she could imagine with the most flavorful cream cheese she’d ever tried followed by the tastiest cup of coffee on the planet. As she approached freedom, her body felt youthful as a teenager. She and Andrew pushed through the glass doors onto the white expanse of Fargo, North Dakota. The little Toyota sat by the curb, engine idling.


“Engrid,”


“Yes Andrew…”


“Let’s go home!”


                                       #


Evan awoke early and went through the motions of preparing for another day as a high school English teacher. The class was going over poetic forms but with all that had happened, Evan wasn’t sure he could feign interest in iambic pentameter. He stood over the kitchen sink munching on toast covered with strawberry jam and looking out of the window at the side of Engrid’s house.


“Evan? Are you home?” Dora’s voice echoed down the central hallway.


“I’m in the kitchen,”


Moments later, Dora appeared in the doorway, “I’ve got good news.”


“What’s that?”


“Agents Mortar and Sørenson dropped the charges against Engrid and Andrew. They received the good news about a half hour ago.”


“Where were they?”


“In a holding cell at the Fargo Police Department.”


“They were in jail?”


“I don’t know any details other than that they are no longer suspects in the case and that they have been informed of such. I suppose they’ll start heading home now.”


“I guess.”


“You don’t sound excited.”


“I am…I’m just not sure what to do.”


“What do you mean?”


“Andrew ran off…he didn’t love me enough to say goodbye or see you later or sorry about this or thanks for the memories or anything. He just vanished into the night. I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”


“When you see him again, all will be forgiven.”


“I hope so.”


“It will be. Once you see him again, your heart will melt all over again.”


“That’s the cheesiest thing I think I’ve ever heard.”


“I’m sure it is. Well, I have to get to the library.”


“I have to get to school.”


“Then you’d better hurry!” she said and turned to leave.


“Dora,”


“Yes Evan?”


“Thank you.”


“For what? For being here. I know you were sort of tied up unwillingly too, but I feel like you were here for me.”


“I was, Evan. I’ll always be here for you. You know that.” She smiled and headed towards the front door and to her life beyond, out there in the world. After the events of the past few days, ordinary life felt foreign. It was as if a century had passed since the police first knocked on his door the afternoon before.


After breakfast, he went upstairs to get dressed for the day ahead. He grabbed his attaché case of books and papers and away he went, to educate America’s youth.


Dora walked back across to her own vehicle and drove off for her day of volunteering at the library. She had some shelving to do, so that the librarians could focus on the things that they do rather than having to shelve all those books by themselves.


In Fargo, Engrid and Andrew were positively beside themselves. Andrew got behind the wheel of the little Toyota and took off. Engrid looked in the side view mirror and was indescribably happy to see the police station disappear behind the trees and urban structures of downtown Fargo.


“Engrid, where did you go last night? I was standing there being arrested and the next thing I knew you were gone. I thought at first you’d been killed because you disappeared and then I heard shooting and yelling. I was terrified that you were dead.”


“I wasn’t dead. I nearly froze to death though because of that blizzard that rolled through. There I was in the cold and dark with nothing but my nightgown and a pair of bloomers on. Thank God I found a Wal-Mart and managed to get into some warmer clothes.”


“That sounds awful!”


“Trust me, it was, but it’s over now.”


“What’d they think of you barging in with just your ‘nightgown and bloomers on’?”


“They thought I was a shoplifter. This woman named Marguerite, she turned out to be fairly nice, but she was pretty gruff when she thought I was stealing from her. Then when she found out I was a legitimate shopper, she offered to call her pastor and get me a place in the homeless shelter the church operates.”


“Oh my goodness, they thought you were homeless?” Andrew couldn’t help but smile, “And I thought I had a rough evening being thrown in the slammer.”


“At least your life wasn’t in danger.”


“No, I guess it wasn’t. I’m glad you’re safe now.”


“Me too…me too…” She trailed off into thought before continuing, “So where are we going to eat breakfast?”


“Well, we’ll be in Minneapolis in a couple hours.”


“That’s fine with me. The further south we get the better. I decided I don’t like snow. Not that I ever really did, but after traipsing through a blizzard, I really, really don’t like snow.”


“Didn’t it get cold in Oregon and Idaho when you lived there?”


“In Idaho, yes, in Oregon, not really…it got cool but it didn’t get the frigid cold I went through last night. And what cold we got I didn’t particularly care for.”


“Okay…but you didn’t’ like the heat of South Carolina, either.”


“No…I’m more of a 70 degree kind of person.”


“Then maybe you should have been a Hawaiian.”


“Now you’re talking!”


“This definitely isn’t Hawaii,” Engrid pointed at the snow drifts towering over their heads and the icicles hanging from the tree branches.


“Not on any meteorological scale I’m aware of anyway.”


They approached the sign welcoming them back to Minnesota.


“That sign looks good again this morning.”


“It looks better to me because we aren’t being chased by the police. This time we’re going to Minnesota to go home, not to escape a prison sentence.”


“Desperation makes people do the craziest things.”


“Dora and Evan will never believe that story about you evading the police by sliding under the guardrail and running through the streets.”


“At least I didn’t hide in an ice machine.”


“You hide in an ice machine as large as all outdoors.”


“Good point.” Engrid nodded her head. I’m hungry. I burned off a month’s worth of calories last night. Can we stop at the next place we come to and eat?”


“Sure…they were still in Moorhead, so the next spot was only a few miles down the road. Andrew pulled off and drove them to a small diner at a truck stop. It didn’t look too fancy, but at the moment, neither cared. They were just happy to be free.


Andrew pulled right up to the front of the restaurant.


“Is this okay?”


“Yes! It’s a greasy spoon but right now it looks like a five star paradise.” Engird quickly got out and rushed through the door, out of the bitter cold and into the welcome warmth of the truck stop diner. Once inside, she and Andrew sat in a booth to further discuss their travails of the previous evening. As Engrid was telling Andrew about hiding behind a tree when the police came by, she stopped midsentence. She looked over his shoulder at an approaching man.


“Engrid!” he called out, “I’m glad to see you’re okay!”


“Thanks,” she replied, “You were right, I went and got the whole mess straightened out.”


“I’m glad to hear it! Are you heading home from here?”


“Yes…next stop is my house in South Carolina! I cannot wait to get out of this frigid mess and back into the sunny south where I belong.”


“Well, safe travels! Who’s your friend?” With that, he walked off and out of the diner toward his big rig parked on the far side of the lot.


“This is Andrew, Andrew, this is Olaf. He rescued me from the blizzard last night.”


“I’m just glad I could help.” With that he walked off, pushing open the door he headed out into the whiteness toward his big rig parked on the far side of the lot.


Once he’d walked beyond earshot, Andrew smirked, “You made a friend.”


“You know me…always looking for a friend.”


“So he rescued you last night?”


“Yes. He spotted me walking down the street and picked me up.”


“So you were a streetwalker. One night out on your own and you start picking up tricks.”


“I was doing nothing of the sort. He convinced me to turn myself in and that it would all work out in the end.”


“I told you that last night.”


“But Olaf told me first.”


“Anyway, I take it he’s the one who drove you to the police station.”


“Yes. You didn’t think I’d walked do you?”


“How would you have found it? You wouldn’t have known where the Fargo police department was. You’ve have walked around all night and not found it.”


“Well, that was a disturbing thing in itself…Olaf knew precisely where it was. He drove straight to it without any mistaken turns.”


“He’d probably been in the clink for picking up streetwalkers before,” Andrew laughed at his own joke at Engrid’s expense.


“Perhaps…the French toast looks good.”


“Nice segue.” Andrew picked up his own menu and glanced at it as the waitress approached. He was quite hungry and they had an exceedingly long drive ahead of them.


                                                 


                                                 #


Dylan sat in his jail cell. Dora had left yesterday and still had not brought word to him about their deal. Was he to be prosecuted for the crimes of which he was guilty? He’d been told about an hour earlier that Engrid and Andrew were off the hook for kidnapping his daughter and that the search for the true villain continued. He heard the keys jangling at the end of the cell block, indicating that someone was approaching. He looked to see, hoping it was that old woman coming to tell him the good news- they weren’t going to press charges and he was free to go home. It was Agent Mortar. He didn’t look pleased. Dylan remained seated on the edge of his bunk.


“What do you want?” he asked, not really wanting to know.


“Mrs. Murchison, Mr. Grayson, and Mrs. Grayson came to me with an unusual request.”


Dylan’s demeanor brightened, “What was that?”


“They want us to let you go. They don’t want to press charges.”


“So, I can go?”


“No. You pulled a gun on innocent people and had a standoff with the police. I cannot just let you go. There is no way to assure the public that you are not a threat. Apparently Mrs. Murchison and the Graysons trust that you aren’t going to try again to kill them, but I’m not so sure. If I agree to let you go, I’m responsible if you do something like this again. Plus, there is the issue of your daughter.”


“What’s that?”


“I know that you threw her out of your house and into the streets.”


“I was wrong to do that, I know that now.”


“You didn’t know it then?”


“Yes…I guess I did. I was just angry.”


“What happens when you get angry again?”


“Where is my daughter?”


“She’s safe. She’s in a drug rehabilitation center and her grandmother is taking care of her. She’ll be fine…it’s you that we haven’t decided about yet. You avoided my question- what will happen if your daughter upsets you again? What will you do then?”


“Nothing stupid- can’t a guy learn his lesson and go on with his life?”


“Yes, he can. But have you learned your lesson?”


“Yes, I have. I’m ready to go back out there in the world and make this right.”


“You sound like you’ve been working on this spiel.”


“It’s not a spiel you arrogant prick, this is the truth!”


“The truth…prove it!”


“I can’t prove it!” he shouted and slammed his hand on the bars, “How can I prove it unless you let me go?”


“My goodness, Mr. Riverside, you seem upset,” Agent Mortar cooed condescendingly.


Dylan’s face reddened and his neck and forehead veins bulged, “Upset? UPSET? He yelled and rushed the bars. His hands flew through them to grab at Agent Mortar, who took a small step back, just out of reach.


“Get out of my face!” A stream of epithets and curse words flew at Agent Mortar turned to leave saying, “I think I’ve made my point.”


He left to room with Dylan still spewing and steaming behind him. Agent Mortar went out into the sunlight of that Monday morning and drove over to the library. The Deerfield City Library was actually quite nice. It was a very new building, recently constructed by a grant from the Literary America Society and the South Carolina Arts Council. It was a very nice, brick and mortar design with granite trim around the windows and doorways. The Deerfield City Library was the only library in a three county area, so it had to keep up with about 150 patrons per day out of a population of over 50,000. It was two floors and held about 75,000 books on everything from ancient civilizations to the most recent Danielle Steel or John Grisham novel. Dora was quite proud of herself for having brought the library into the 21st Century with electronic catalogs, online databases and so forth. She’d donated $10,000 to the effort and she spearheaded the training efforts for the staff and volunteers. 


Dora was at the circulation desk helping a patron find out whether or not a book was checked out or in the stacks. She didn’t appear to notice him at first, but smiled and waved once she looked up from her task. The patron walked away from the desk and Agent Mortar was greeted much like she would greet anyone who would walk up to the circulation desk.


“Can we speak in private?”


“Yes. Come with me,” she ushered him away from the circulation desk.


Dora led him across the central atrium. It had tall oak colonnades and windows looking into the reference room where all the encyclopedias, atlases, dictionaries, and other reference books were housed. She led him to a little spot just beyond the elevator to the second floor. They went into a small office and shut the door. Agent Mortar was rather impressed. He looked at her desk, her name plate said, “Dora Murchison, Director of Acquisitions and Antiquities.”


“I thought you just volunteered here?”


“I do. I’m retired. I am a professional librarian by trade. I worked in Columbia for 35 years as the state archivist. I was in charge of keeping the records for the state legislature. I also did a lot of work for the historical society.”


“Impressive.”


“So, Agent Mortar, what brings you to our little literary corner?”


“I talked to Dylan a few minutes ago.”


“And?”


“He blew up and started yelling and cursing. He even reached through the bars like he wanted to strangle me.”


“Oh…that’s not good.”


“No, it isn’t. I cannot vouch for him not being a threat to you. I’m not dropping the charges. We will proceed with the prosecution with or without your support.”


“Well, if he’s unrepentant and lashing out like that at you, you have my support.”


“Thank you. We will probably need your testimony.”


“You have it.”


“I guess that’s all I wanted to say.”


“Agent Mortar, may I ask you a question?”


“Of course…I may not be able to answer, but I’ll tell you what I can,” he had a slight twinkle. It was the first hint of mirth he’d displayed since this whole awful debacle began.


Dora returned his candid demeanor, “Do you think he would have gone through with it? In your professional opinion, do you think that he would have killed Myrtle and Evan if we hadn’t intervened?”


“I’m almost certain of it. There’s no way to know for sure, but I think he would have.”


Dora leaned back in her chair. Then I guess it’s a good thing it worked out the way it did. I would hate to think that he would have murdered someone. I remember the night of the ill-fated dinner party. He seemed so polite and charming at first. Then, it was light a light switch turned. He just became this raving madman, practically foaming at the mouth. I guess we caught a glimpse of what you described happened at the police station before you came over here.”


“He’s definitely not stable. It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that.”


“Do you think he might benefit from psychiatric help? I think that might be more beneficial that a straight out prison sentence. I know he might still be a danger, and that’s why I support the prosecution, but maybe a temporary insanity plea might be the way to go. Maybe Amanda isn’t the only one in need of a little rehabilitation.”


“That’s between him and his defense attorney.”


Dora nodded her agreement, “I’m just glad he showed his true colors before we did something foolish, like turn him loose again. We really would feel bad if we let him loose and he did something unthinkable.”


“Like trying again and succeeding.”


“Yes. I was thinking more of his daughter’s safety, but that’s true too.”


“Well, I need to go back to my office and catch up on some things,” Agent Mortar stood to leave. Dora escorted him to the door.


“Thank you for dropping by and telling me this in person.”


“You’re welcome.”


Dora sat behind her desk at the Deerfield City Library thinking about the bullet they’d dodged by Agent Mortar’s sharp mind. He’d gotten Dylan to break rather easily. Who knows what kind of damage he could have done if Dora’s plan had worked and Dylan had been let out of jail. Perhaps Amanda would be better off raised by a loving grandmother than by an angry, vengeful father.


Dora got back out to the circulation desk and resumed her duties assisting the library patrons access the resources they sought.


Once the day was complete, Evan drove home after a day of explaining the stylistic differences between William Shakespeare and Eminem. When faced with the cultural chasm that exists between youth culture and any formalized civilization, he sometimes wished he’d been around back in Dora’s heyday. He was well aware that the world was not perfect back then and in fact was a lot worse in many ways. After all, when she was his age, it was 1947. By this time, Dora had already made it through the Great Depression, the Second World War, the beginnings of the Cold War nuclear era, and South Carolina was having the seismic rumblings of the Civil Rights Movement that would radically change southern culture forever and ostensibly change it for the better. So, perhaps Dora’s heyday wasn’t that great after all from the perspective of contemporaneous traditionalists.


When Evan reflected back on his history classes and what he’d read, the world was so much better off now. Race relations had improved to the point that there was an African American President in the White House. In Dora’s heyday the only black person in the White House was cleaning it. Women were treated with more dignity and respect than they had throughout human history. There were immense levels of technology, access to information, literature, and so forth. It irritated him that he was relegated to comparing the prose of Shakespeare to the mindless drivel of the latest cultural flunkey. But then, Shakespeare wrote the common man’s theatre, and was often criticized by the reining intelligencia of his day. Shakespeare was the Eminem of the 1500’s. So, perhaps after all, it wasn’t that much of a stretch to compare the two and, at its most fundamental level, that the world really hadn’t changed that much since the seventeenth century. Our technology is better but human nature hadn’t changed much since then.


He pulled in his driveway, and looked at that big old house. Then his mind shifted from such philosophical ramblings and shifted to more immediate concerns- namely, where is Andrew and is he coming home? If Andrew wasn’t in the house, it didn’t feel like home. It was just a nice big pile of boards and furniture. It was pretty and cozy but utterly soulless without Andrew’s warm, loving presence. All Andrew had to do was show up and all would be forgiven. After all, he was innocent. It was Evan who owed Andrew an apology and a plea for forgiveness.


He tried Andrew’s cell phone again. It went right to voicemail. Why wouldn’t he turn his cell phone on?


Evan was distressed that something was wrong…if Agent Mortar really had informed Andrew and Engrid that they were innocent and that the charges had all been dropped, they would have called immediately, or at least as soon as possible. It had been a full day since Agent Mortar had said that Andrew and Engrid were released from the jail in Fargo. Surely Fargo had cell towers or some sort of telecommunications technology. So, if they hadn’t called, that meant something was wrong. Perhaps this was some elaborate hoax staged by Agent Mortar to trap him into revealing something. Evan had no more secrets but Carl Mortar had no way of knowing that as a certainty. What if this all was some elaborate trap and Mortar was just waiting for the young queer and the elderly woman to fall into his carefully laid trap. That thought sent a chill down his spine but because Amanda was found and the circumstances surrounding that were known, Evan couldn’t think of any possible scenarios in which he could be implicated. That was a bit of relief, but the police were convinced Andrew was guilty and then suddenly they decided he wasn’t. What if they thought that Evan was now guilty and just had not informed him of their suspicions?


That thought stuck in his throat. He heard a vehicle drive by. Checking the window, he saw that it was Dora returning from her day at the library. He watched and waited until she went in the house. He waited a few more minutes for her to get settled before he hurried over and rang the doorbell.


“Hello!” Dora greeted him warmly.


“Have you heard from Engrid or Andrew?”


“No…there were no messages on my answering machine or cell phone. They didn’t’ call you?”


“No.”


“That’s odd. I hope everything is okay. Agent Mortar was very clear that they are no longer under suspicion.”


“But what if we are?”


“What?”


“What if Agent Mortar just told us that part…what if we are the ones under suspicion?”


“What on earth makes you think they suspect us?”


“When we were talking yesterday, he made some cryptic comment about hiding in plain sight. It didn’t dawn on me at the time, but maybe he thinks we…or at least I…had something to do with it.”


Dora thought about it for a moment, “I guess it’s possible he thinks that.”


“I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. I’m sure Andrew and Engrid are on their way back right now, they just haven’t called for whatever reason.”


“Even if Engrid didn’t call me…surely Andrew would have called you.”


“I know…that’s what worries me.”


“Well, I’ve been worried since this whole thing began. Plus I had a busy day at the library. I think I’m just going to heat up a bowl of soup and call it a day.”


“Okay. I’ll leave you be.”


“Thanks…but if they do call, let me know they’re okay…okay?”


“I will. If they call you, you’ll let me know?”


“I’ll tell them to call you so you can talk to them directly.”


“That sounds nice…thanks, Dora…you’ve been a real friend to me.”


“Likewise,” she smiled and closed the door as Evan descended the steps and walked home.





                               #





Amanda sat upright in her bed and watched her grandmother napping in the vinyl chair in the corner. Cecelia was startled awake when the nurse entered the room.


“Cecilia, can I speak with you?”


“Of course,” Cecelia lifted herself out of the chair and stretched.


Amanda’s alert eyes watched the two women as they went out into the hallway. She wondered what they could be conferring about.


“Cecilia, Dylan is not going to be released from jail,” the nurse whispered her announcement.


“Why? What happened?”


“The police aren’t going to drop the charges.”


“Why not?”


“They didn’t specify their reasoning.”


“So, what happens now?”


“For the time being, Amanda is in your custody.”


Cecilia was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know that I can. After what she’s been through I don’t know if I can give her the care she needs.”


“If you can’t is there someone else she can stay with? Believe me- she will be much better off with you than with social services.”


Cecelia was quiet a few moments longer. “Then I guess I’ll do it.”


“I’m sure Amanda appreciates it. Do you live in Columbia?”


“No, I live in Greenville. But my house is plenty big enough. My late husband, her grandfather, was fairly wealthy, so I will make sure she gets into a good school there.”


“That would be wonderful. Amanda will be able to get her life on track again!”


“I hope so. I used to volunteer as a counselor for a church and I’ve seen people trying to get off of drugs…that is a wretched experience for them. I’m just glad those two angels of mercy found her. Can I contact them?”


“As soon as the police finish their investigation, you may contact them. Right now I was told that you cannot because they are not available for comment in the case.”


“Oh…they don’t think that they had anything to do with the kidnapping, do they?”


“I don’t know.”


“They showed Amanda their pictures and she told them flat out they had nothing to do with it.”


“I don’t know. All I know is what the police said. Once they are finished with the investigation, you can contact them.”


“Okay… I suppose that will just have to do.”


“So,” the nurse continued, “Our discharge planner will meet with you in a hour if that’s okay.”


“What do we need to discuss?”


“She’ll go over the procedure for discharging her and there are some release forms for you to sign…that kind of thing -just some paperwork so you can take Amanda home with you.”


“Okay. An hour sounds fine. Where do I need to go?”


“I’ll come back and take you down to her office myself.”


“Thank you.”


Cecilia slipped back into her granddaughter’s hospital room.


“What’s going on Granny?”


Cecilia smiled; it was the first time since her hospitalization that Amanda had addressed her directly. Cecilia didn’t say anything for a moment.


“Amanda, honey, you’re going to have to stay with me for a while.”


“I want to go home.”


“I know, sugar, I know you do. But you’re dad is still in jail. You’re going to be living with me for a while until we can get this whole thing sorted out. It’s going to be okay.”


Amanda leaned back in her bed, the disappointment evident on her face.


“When will he be getting out of jail?”


“I don’t know. Hopefully it won’t be long, but I just don’t know.”


She sniffled. “I want my dad.”


“I know. I know.” Cecilia grabbed Amanda’s hand and held it. Cecilia sat on the edge of the bed and held Amanda while she grieved. Cecilia felt like doing some grieving herself, but she had to be strong for Amanda’s sake. They couldn’t both fall apart.


An hour later, Cecilia was still sitting on the side of the bed. Amanda had calmed down again and Cecilia was gently stroking her hair. Externally she was placid, but inside she was torn apart. She was over 80, how could she take care of a 14-year-old girl with substance abuse issues and lesbionic tendencies? Well, she decided, she couldn’t screw it up any worse than Dylan already had. She would just love the girl and provide for her as best she could. This wasn’t quite how she’d envisioned her remaining years, but she had to do what she had to do. She wasn’t about to let social services have her. Who knew what kind of mess that would make?


There was a knock at the door and the nurse poked her head in, “Ready?”


Cecilia quietly exited into the hallway, “As ready as I’m going to be I suppose.”


The nurse smiled sympathetically and led the way to the discharge planner’s cubicle.