Shake Down Dead (16 page)

“Is Jacobs going to arrest
him?”

Decker said, “No, Jennifer. He doesn’t
have anything to warrant an arrest. The deputies are checking with
people in Itzig to see if anyone noticed him or saw his car parked
around there. He could have walked from anywhere in Itzig to the
group home in just a few minutes.”

“Jerry, what about the list? Maybe
Whitney didn’t have an affair with Charlie. Maybe she knew about a
child that he had with someone else—a child who might become an
embarrassment to him and jeopardize his political career. Should I
tell Megan?”

“No, don’t do that, Jennifer,” Decker
said. “She’s better off not knowing anything about it. Keep it to
yourself for now. Jacobs is looking for some evidence and he’s also
checking into the love child thing.”

“Well, okay, but I don’t like it. Megan
should know that Charlie is a suspect.”

“She probably already knows that. You
just keep snooping around and see what you come up with. Stay away
from Charlie and his mother. She might tell Charlie that you’re
snooping and that could put you in danger. So keep it on the
down-low, okay?”

“I guess so. I’m in the library parking
lot right now. I’m meeting with Pamela Frey in about twenty
minutes. I’m going to go in and poke around through some old
newspapers and yearbooks. I don’t know how it will help, but maybe
Whitney’s friends from high school will have some information for
us.”

“Okay, call me later and we’ll get
together. Your place or mine, Sweetheart?” He sounded like Humphrey
Bogart.

“You letch! I can practically see your
eyebrows wiggling! My place. Bring food!” I hung up
laughing.

I took the earpiece from my ear and
tossed it in my purse. I might still have a little time to get in
some research before I met with Pam Frey.

The plaque set in the bricks of the
Hermann Public Library stated that it was built in 1957. Like many
buildings of that era, it was a red brick rectangle with high
windows and glass doors at the entrance. Upon entering, I saw a
sign that informed me that the Children’s Library was downstairs. I
could get there by the stairs or an elevator that was located
across from the staircase.

The first thing I did was to find where
the back issues of the Maron County Herald were located. They only
went back a few months. After a few minutes of looking around
aimlessly, a tall skeletal man, wearing black jeans and a bright
western shirt asked if he could help me find something. He then
showed me how to find the right roll of microfilm. He reached into
his pocket, took out something red, and popped it into his mouth.
His name tag reading, “Mort Kelley, Reference Librarian.” His name
may have been Irish but he had an olive complexion and dark brown
hair. I suspected he was at least part Native American.

The next time he reached into his
pocket, I watched him pull out a green peanut M&M and slide it
into his mouth. I thanked Mort for helping me and watched him
return to the reference desk. Unlike many tall people, Mort didn’t
slouch. Although he was at least 6’2”, his posture was perfect and
the bearing of his head and body were as straight as a
yardstick.

I spun the roll of film until I figured
out the right speed to peruse the old newspapers. I wondered how
long it would be until all this was on the internet and these old
machines would be put out to pasture. For now, this was all I had
and I was looking for something special.

Hermann is still a small town, even
with the recent addition of several small subdivisions that
stretched the city limits. The editor of the paper knew that
regional, state and national news was covered by the media from the
Twin Cities. Therefore, the Maron County Herald only printed all
the news that was fit to print about people and events in Maron
County.

I looked through the issues from six
years ago trying to find the photos from the Senior Prom. Usually a
reporter is there taking candid shots of the kids dancing and
having a good time in the high school gym.

Yes, we still hold our proms in the
high school gym. The prom committee looks into having it at a hotel
each year, but they always end up in the gym. The cost is lower and
everyone can afford to go.

For the past couple years, the senior
girls held a gown exchange. Girls brought in gowns they wore in
previous years and anyone could use them for the prom. After the
prom, the girls had the gowns cleaned, then returned the dresses to
be use the next year. They may not have been haut couture but they
were high style in Hermann.

Because the Herald was a weekly paper,
it didn’t take very long to find the prom issue. There were two
pages of photos, with captions. Several overviews, taken from the
balcony, showed the kids dancing to fast and slow songs, while
others were if teens at the refreshment tables. I was glad I didn’t
cater the proms; that would be a huge headache.

I was checking the pictures of groups
who posed for pictures. Most were of couples, two or three to a
shot. There was one of six guys all making faces at the camera.
There were several with just girls. I recognized Whitney and her
friends from the yearbook picture. One picture was almost identical
to the yearbook photo except there were four girls in prom dresses
instead of three. I read the caption under the picture. Left to
right: Kimberly Adler, Gina Lang, Whitney Wentworth, Pamela
Frey.

It appeared that three of the girls
were at the Prom without dates. At least, I could only find one
picture of Gina dancing with a tall blond guy. Odd. I thought that
cheerleaders dated the big handsome football players. Shows how
much I know. I hardly knew anyone in my senior year in Illinois. I
hadn’t even attended my senior prom. On the other hand, maybe
Natalie was right about Whitney’s sexual preference.

I had forgotten to bring along the
yearbook that Whitney’s mother gave me. I went up to the reference
desk and asked the librarian if they had the high school yearbooks.
The librarian showed me where they were and I pulled out the one
from the year after Whitney’s class.

Paging through the book I found Pam.
She was the stunning brunette, standing next to gorgeous Gina, who
was the prettiest girl of the four. The only information that was
under Pam’s name was “German Club” and “Choir” and the two years
she participated. It looked like in her senior year all she did was
attend classes. She didn’t belong to any of the clubs nor did she
participate in any sports. Unlike the other three girls, she wasn’t
a cheerleader.

Continuing my search through the
yearbook, I located the section with pictures of the faculty. Under
each name was a little blurb about each teacher. The yearbook
editors were too polite to say anything nasty, so it took a little
time to figure out the students’ favorites.

I found two young women who appeared to
be in their first year of teaching—Mrs. Mary Kingston and Ms.
Bobbitt Murphy. Wait a minute, I knew the second one. Bobby Murphy
was Megan’s cousin. Blond, petite and cute as a button, she was
sure to be the favorite of most of the girls in her class. I never
thought of her as a teacher. She was perky and bouncy and drove me
to distraction whenever I attended one of Megan’s family
parties.

The Murphys loved family get-togethers
and they were a noisy and happy family. I loved the way they all
hugged each other. My family was so reserved we barely shook hands
with each other. Not the Murphys. Hugging, slapping on the back,
big sloppy kisses on the cheek. They were so alive. They always had
a drink in hand. Beer and wine for the adults, soda for the kids.
They all seemed so happy to be with each other.

Bobby would always come over and talk
to me, not that she ever seemed interested in what I said in answer
to her inquiries about my health, business or love life. Bobby
would ask how I was, and then look around to see who she could go
talk to when I shut up. I learned early to just tell her I was fine
and let it go. One time I told her that I was working part-time in
a brothel. She just nodded and said, “That’s nice” before she took
off waving to a good-looking guy who had just walked in.

I knew that she was still teaching at
the high school. The last I heard, Bobby taught junior and senior
English and was the faculty advisor to the Hermann High newspaper
staff.

Maybe Megan could find out what Bobby
knew about these women when they were in high school. I pulled out
my cell phone to call Megan. Mr. Kelley snapped his fingers at me.
When I looked up, he shook his head and waved his finger back and
forth. Oops! Guess I couldn’t use my phone in here. I’d have to
remember to call Megan about Bobbie later. I took a few notes and
printed out the picture of the four girls at the prom. It turned
out grainy and not very clear, still it would do for my
purposes.

21

Looking at my watch, I saw that I still
had about ten minutes before I was scheduled to meet with Pamela. I
wandered around the library, checking out the new best sellers and
perusing the cozy mysteries, my favorites. I heard a phone ringing
and looked around. It seemed to be coming from the elevator. The
phone rang again. Who would call the elevator phone?

I motioned to a diminutive, silver
haired woman whose nametag identified her as “Maureen—Library
Cataloger/Circulation” to come over to the elevator. I asked her to
listen. We tilted our heads toward the closed elevator door. The
phone rang again. Looking at each other, we both shrugged our
shoulders at the same time. Maureen reached over and pushed the
call button. The door opened and the ringing got louder.

The first thing we saw was a book cart
filled with books; some were in disarray and several were on the
floor. The ringing stopped. We peeked behind the book cart and saw
Pam Frey lying on her back with her cell phone in her outstretched
hand.

She looked up at me and said, “What hit
me?”

Maureen and I helped her up and guided
her to a chair at a computer desk near the elevator. When Maureen
went to get her some water, I asked her what had
happened.

“I don’t know. I was at the elevator
down in the children’s library. My phone rang so I pulled it from
my pocket to answer it before I got in trouble for having it on at
work. I turned around to push the cart into the elevator and
something hit me on the head. I remember falling and heard the
ringing again. That’s all I remember until I looked up and saw you
looking at me.”

When Maureen came back, she helped Pam
drink some of the water. I asked her to stay with Pam for a few
minutes while I ran down the stairs to the children’s library.
Maybe someone down there had seen what happened.

When I got down to the children’s
library, I saw that there was only one person behind the
circulation desk, Mort Kelley. He was at the computer pecking away
at the keyboard, quietly whistling.

When I walked up to him I recognized
the tune he was whistling, an old disco tune by the Bee Gees from
Saturday Night Fever. “Mr. Kelley, I need your help. Pam was just
attacked in the elevator.”

“Oh, my, is she okay? Should I call
9-1-1?” Mort reached for the phone.

“No, I think she’s going to be fine.
You might be able to help me, though.”

Mort took his hands off the keyboard
and folded them in his lap. “I will be glad to help in any way I
can. As head librarian, it’s my duty to assist in any way
possible.”

“Did you see anyone here when she was
taking the cart of books to the elevator?”

“Oh, golly. I just came down here to
fill in at the desk while Deb went to lunch. We are researching her
family tree.” He scooped up a pile of papers and waved them in the
air. “Her family is quite interesting. Oh, the elevator—I didn’t
notice anyone there. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing
anyone near the elevator, not even Pam. Are you sure she’s all
right? She’s such a pleasant young lady, always dependable and she
understands the Dewy Decimal System as well as the regular
staff.”

I broke in before he started to explain
library procedures to me. “That’s nice. So, you didn’t see anyone
here who might have hurt Pam?”

“No,” he replied. I turned to leave
when he added, “Maybe Deb can help you out when she gets back.
She’s much more observant than I am. I’m afraid I sometimes get so
focused that I’m in my own little world.”

I thanked him and returned upstairs to
see how Pam was doing. She seemed to be okay, if a little woozy.
She definitely did not want us to call an ambulance. I wasn’t sure
if it was because she really felt okay or if she was worried about
the expense.

“
Okay, Pam. I won’t call the
EMTs, although I think you should get checked out. You really need
to talk to the police. This might be connected to Whitney’s death,
since you’re related to her.

I pushed the button for the Sheriff’s
office, thinking I was probably the only person in Marion County
with the cops on speed dial. I told him about the events at the
library.

“Jennifer, it’s actually a Hermann
police matter, since the library is within the city limits. Let me
call the chief and see who’s going to take the case.”

“Okay, but I hope someone will be here
soon.”