Authors: Marianne Spitzer
Paula and Maureen had unique ideas. Annamarie refused to wear the wedding gown Maureen found. With its hoop skirt, it made her resemble a cake topper. Paula, on the other hand, found one made of lace-covered satin with long sleeves and a high collar. It might have been worn one hundred years ago, and all the satin would be stifling on a July first wedding. Annamarie stood between them wanting to please both. Why hadn’t she and Daniel eloped?
Annamarie told them, “Follow me. I know where we can find the perfect gown.”
“You can’t leave,” her mom and Maureen said in unison, and her mom added shaking her head in frustration, “You have to choose a gown.”
They followed her to a small shop on a side street. The tiny shop held the gown of her dreams. Made of airy white chiffon with an empire waist, short sleeves and covered with tiny circles of white lace resembling flowers opening in spring. Each circle connected to the next with threads woven in haphazard patterns. The lovely three-foot train followed her perfectly and bustled up easily for the reception. A simple fingertip length veil with a small floral headpiece completed the look.
Paula and Maureen thought she had lost her mind when Annamarie twirled in her gown and said, “I believe I’m in a dream.”
Annamarie and Daniel wanted a simple, elegant affair, but Maureen seemed intent on planning a royal wedding.
Annamarie and Daniel did their best to voice their opinions. Standing firm, they had the last word where they would hold the reception, but not the decorating. Their moms turned the church basement hall into a fairyland of pink tea roses and lace. Even the four tier square wedding cake was decorated with pink tea roses and edible lace. The wedding and reception were magical. Annamarie thought her dreams had come true, and life was going to be perfect.
Annamarie’s dream of an ideal life was short lived. Daniel’s dark thoughts and drinking with his friends each weekend didn’t change after the wedding. Annamarie couldn’t convince him to spend time with her. His constant comments of spirits living in the woods didn’t make life easy. Alcohol intensified his fears.
Tears filled her eyes when she closed the wedding album wondering how such a happy day could hold immeasurable promise, and turn into unbearable heartache a few weeks later. This wasn’t the way she thought they would live their lives. She wanted to make Daniel happy, but was at a loss how to accomplish it.
***
While Daniel was racing to his destination, the sheriff arrived at the hospital. He stopped at the front desk and asked if Dr. Norse was in. The pretty young nurse with the brown eyes smiled at the sheriff and said he should take a seat while she found Dr. Norse. Contemplating his next move, he saw Dr. Norse enter the waiting area. He stood up, walking over to greet him.
“I dropped by to see if I could talk to Bulk.”
“I’m afraid not. I should’ve called you this morning, but things were busy here. The psychiatrist from Oaklin Hospital came and after examining Bulk, he decided Bulk should be admitted to the psychiatric ward at Oaklin Hospital immediately.”
A concerned tone in his voice, Dr. Norse explained, “Bulk was mumbling about spirits on and off last night, and continued this morning. The psychiatrist thought the best course of action was to move Bulk to where he could receive intensive treatment.”
Disappointed he wouldn’t be able to question Bulk, the sheriff asked, “When do you think I’ll be able to talk to him?”
“I’ve no idea
,” said Dr. Norse, “but I’ll keep you informed.”
“Thanks
,” said the sheriff. “How was Bulk taken to the hospital? An ambulance would have caused quite a stir especially after Ben’s death and today’s slaughter.”
Dr. Norse said he had heard from some of his patients that they were afraid a murderer was running loose in town. With Bulk calmer the attendants drove him in an old station wagon. It didn’t seem out of place.
“Excellent idea, the last thing we need is more panic and rumor.”
“One more thing, Bulk’s brother asked me not to let anyone know Bulk’s in the hospital, especially Garret. He said I could share that much with you. He’s worried about Bulk’s state of mind. He thinks Garret is the reason for Bulk’s breakdown. It seems Garret has been calling around trying to find Bulk.”
“That explains a lot. I knew there was more going on when Bulk said to ask Garret. Maybe that’ll help you find out what’s terrifying Bulk.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass the information along.”
Exchanging a quick goodnight with Dr. Norse, the sheriff headed home. He had a busy day planned for tomorrow.
***
Annamarie fell asleep on the sofa waiting for Daniel. When she woke a little after seven the next morning, he still wasn’t home. She knew the only reason he wouldn’t call was he was involved with Garret or Bulk.
Something was dreadfully wrong. Wherever Daniel was, he had her car. She would need it in a few short hours to keep her appointment with the sheriff. If Daniel didn’t come home
soon, she was going to have to call someone for a ride. At least Mr. Hanson had given her the week off, or she would have needed a ride immediately. She gazed out the window, as if sheer will power could bring Daniel home.
***
When the phone rang in the sheriff’s office, Greta answered in her pleasant voice, “Sheriff’s office.” She listened for a moment and said, “Please hold, I’ll connect you.”
The intercom buzzer sounded in the sheriff’s office.
“What is it, Greta?”
“Dr. Webster’s
on line one.”
“Thanks put him through. Good morning Dr. Webster, what can I do for you?” asked the sheriff tapping his pencil on the desk.
“I have a cause of death in your nasty little double murder.”
“Murder?”
“Unfortunately yes, they killed each other. Makes it murder officially. However, there are some odd facts.”
“I was afraid of that, what facts?”
“Neither man could have been killed by the small knives we found at the scene. My assistant was right. If I didn’t know better, I would say they were killed by some type of long, thick-bladed sword. One long enough to stab a man from his abdomen through to his backbone.”
The sheriff began pacing around his office. “What are you talking about? There were no other weapons. We only found the knives.”
“I can only tell you what the postmortem revealed, but there’s more.”
The sheriff felt a headache coming on. Dr. Webster always had odd theories that too often proved true.
“I believe there was also a fourth weapon used. It was a thin, but extremely sharp blade resembling a sickle.”
“Sickle and a sword, please, doctor you surely must be mistaken.” Sheriff Richardson dropped into his chair trying to comprehend what he was hearing.
“I wish to heaven I was, but there were several arc-shaped wounds on each man and a single deep stab in their abdomen, which could only have been made by a sword-like weapon. That’s why both men bled out before I arrived. It also accounts for the fact each lost fingers. Those were defense wounds, I believe.”
“You always have a conclusion that makes some sense, what about this time?”
“Murder by unknown weaponry, I believe you’ll have to add ‘by persons unknown.’”
“Are you sure they didn’t kill each other?”
“Unless you can provide additional weapons, I have to say no. Also, there is absolutely no proof anyone else was in that office. My assistant took pictures of every square inch and we couldn’t see one fingerprint or footprint in the blood or on any surface. Both bodies must have fallen to the floor early in the fight because we didn’t find any of their fingerprints either.”
“That doesn’t seem possible.”
“I agree, but facts don’t lie. My assistant still believes a spirit was involved considering it occurred in Timmus Woods. His conclusion is as plausible as any I can arrive at.”
“That doesn’t help much.”
“Sorry, if I have any other ideas, I’ll let you know.”
“
Thanks, doctor, I appreciate the call. You can mail me a report. Have a good day.”
Sheriff Richardson sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He needed
aspirin but was too frustrated to move.
***
Annamarie had a few chores to do around the house and scolded herself for making such a mess the night before.
Dressing for the day, she decided to wear a work outfit. It would make her appear presentable and maybe it might make the sheriff think everything was all right.
Much to her dismay, even her blue plaid skirt and a crisp white blouse didn’t make her feel any better. She worried the sheriff would see right through her.
Tidying things up helped and it was lunch time before she knew it. She made a quick peanut butter sandwich. Whenever she was nervous, peanut butter would do the trick especially if she could find some chocolate to eat, too. Today neither helped.
At twelve-thirty, she knew Daniel wasn’t bringing her car back in time, and she was going to need a ride.
“Damn, everyone is either at school or work. I can’t call mom. Dad will hunt Daniel down then tar and feather him. I’m going to strangle him for taking off with my car,” she mumbled.
Dressed in a skirt, she certainly couldn’t take his motorcycle nor did she want to explain why she was using it.
She was pacing around the house talking aloud.
“If I’m late, I’ll be in trouble. I can’t believe you did this to me again.”
Her last hope was George, and she dreaded that call. When she heard his voice, she almost hung up, but she needed
a ride. She explained things, and he said he’d be there in a few minutes. He was fuming about the sheriff and Daniel when he arrived, and continued his angry monologue the entire drive to the sheriff’s office.
Annamarie was happy when the ride was over, but if she had known what awaited her, she would have preferred the car ride. George told her to call him when she needed a ride home. She thanked
him and told him for a second time she didn’t need him to call Mr. Townsend. She wished she had reconsidered before she walked into the sheriff’s office.
Chapter Ten: Trouble
Entering the sheriff’s station, Annamarie greeted Greta with a smile. She told Annamarie to sit and wait, the sheriff would be right out. She didn’t have to wait long.
The sheriff walked out, smiling at her. “Hello, Annamarie.”
Smiling
back, she said, “Hi.” It would be the last time she’d ever trust one of Sheriff Richardson’s smiles.
He led her into his office, gesturing for her to sit down. His attitude had definitely changed. He settled comfortably in his leather chair while she sat in an old, cracked plastic chair.
Leaning forward, he looked directly into her eyes and asked, “Why didn’t Daniel come with you?”
Her mind raced. She couldn’t think of anything except the truth. After all, the truth couldn’t possibly get her into trouble. Or could it?
“I don’t know where Daniel is.”
She answered all his questions about why Daniel left and if he was alone. The only answer she could give was, “I don’t know.”
Sheriff Richardson kept insisting Daniel must be with Garret, and Annamarie would be the one person who would know.
Trying her best to convince him that she had no idea where he might be, it was beginning to feel as if Annamarie was caught up in one of the police shows her dad liked to watch. Something was wrong with this interview. Everything had changed, from the sheriff’s attitude to his questions.
“Do you know what Garret and Bulk do when they go to Oaklin?”
“I’m not close to either of them, how would I know when and if they go to Oaklin, much less what they do?”
No matter what answer she gave, she saw doubt on the sheriff’s face. He began questioning her again. He asked all the same questions, but he mixed up the order trying to confuse her. It wasn’t doing either one of them any good because her answers were the same. Anxiety and anger churning within her, she forced herself to hold back from telling the sheriff what she thought of his entire line of questioning. He was making her feel like a criminal, and definitely headed in the wrong direction. She finally had enough.
“I’m insulted,” she said. “I’m not and never have been a criminal, and I would appreciate it if you stopped treating me like one.”
It was the only thing Annamarie could think of that might not get her in more trouble. He abruptly changed and questioned her again about Saturday night, and she still had the same answers.
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened,” shifting in her chair unable to find a comfortable spot. When the cracked plastic pinched her leg, she had enough and stood up quickly.
“Sit down, Annamarie,” the sheriff barked.