Wake the Dawn (15 page)

She replenished her coffee mug and chose a maple bar. It was fresh and soft and puffy and oh, so tasty. She savored that first big bite.

“In here.” Barbara opened the door, and in came Mr. Aptos. He was just as shaky and spidery as ever, but there seemed to be a grim determination about him that Esther had not seen during the storm.

He smiled. “Mornin’, Doc.” He raised a hand. “Not here as a patient this time. Feeling good for once.”

“Glad to hear it.” Esther stood quickly and put on her please-the-people smile. “Would you like coffee? And we have doughnuts.”

“Sure. May I sit?”

“Of course!” Esther poured him a mug of coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Sugar. You wouldn’t know that, of course. But when I was in here during the storm, Ben brought me coffee, and he remembered about the sugar. From years ago.”

She set the coffee and sugar before him. Not exactly fancy: a cottage cheese carton. But sugar. She simply set the whole doughnut box on the table. Let him choose. She sat back down across from him.

He picked a maple bar, too. He too seemed to relish that first heavenly bite. “Fine young man, Ben James. His grandpappy and me were best friends, I watched him grow up. He joined the marines; changed some when he got back, seemed darker. But still the fine, caring fellow he’d always been. So sad about his Allie.”

And his chief.
But she said nothing.
Yes, I suppose Ben’s a fine man. His dog likes him. And so do I.
That unexpected thought struck her oddly.

“You only been here what, couple years? I lived here my whole life, except two years in the army and four years in teachers’ college. Never ever saw a storm like this one, and then another hard on its heels.” He wagged his head.

What to say? “Many people are saying that.”

He nodded. “A doozy, all right. Double doozy. You don’t know this, I’m sure; not many people know this. Not even Ben, I don’t think. But after I retired, everyone said I oughta get a hobby, so I took up investing. Figured out what the
Wall Street Journal
is saying when it quotes stock, you know, those pages of tiny print.” He snickered. “Bought myself a pretty strong magnifying glass, too. Picked out some stuff I figured might grow—none of that dot-com baloney. Real companies. Worked out pretty well. Got myself a nice little nest egg. But then my lady died and I kinda lost interest.”

“It sounds like a good hobby, though.” That sounded lame even as she said it.

“Well, here’s this power outage, and I’m sitting in my chair and the TV set’s black, and I’m thinking, I’m old, my lady, she’s gone. Why not just lie there and let death take me? Not something I’m afraid of. But then a neighbor dropped by and called an ambulance. And once I started feeling better I saw the conditions you people were working in. It’s a disgrace!”

“I’ve rather thought that, too.”

“I know. You’ve put together all the plans, the paperwork, we all—the whole town—know how hard you worked to get a decent hospital in here. Maybe not a hospital exactly, but a sound building with good equipment, plenty of supplies, and room to work. Even in a major emergency. A fine clinic people can be proud of.”

She nodded. “That’s my dream.”

“Mine too. I’m asking you to gather them all up, the plans and prospectuses you think will work best, and have them ready. You know, I didn’t think much about it until those kids—you know, Genevieve Schumacher’s boy—with the ambulance hauled me in and you people took such good care of me even when you didn’t have anything decent to work with.” He straightened, beamed. “And that, Miss Hanson, is why I’m going to sue the town.”

They held Chief’s funeral in the almost-new St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, not because he was Episcopalian—he was not—but because it was the biggest sanctuary for miles around and could hold the most people. Also, it had a dandy closed-circuit television system that could carry the service to overflow crowds in the parish hall and to the Lutheran church right next door. Still, the seating space was not enough, and mourners filled the Lutheran church and stood out in the courtyard.

When Jenny mentioned the viewing beforehand, Esther came early just to see; yep, his casket was open. How…She paused before him far longer than expected, searching for marks from the autopsy. There were none. Wait. Above his hairline there, the skin had been laid back and reattached with staples. You would never notice if you didn’t know. And with a demure silk coverlet up to his armpits, his hands neatly folded, they didn’t have to be careful about breaking apart his rib cage. She hurried out back, barely making it to the peony bushes before she threw up.

She really should go back in. She walked around to the front in order to enter the back of the sanctuary and just stand there against the wall near the door, not letting all those people crowd in too close to her.

She paused out front, for here came Ben, dressed in his class A uniform, military creases in his shirt and his real gold badge (probably brass, but it looked gold), not the fabric sew-on of the field uniform. She found herself thinking,
Oh, man, he looks good!
She didn’t say it aloud.

He stepped up beside her. “You doing okay so far?”

“So far.”

“I heard about the autopsy. Dennis called me and I came in, talked to the two doctors awhile. They’re calling it medical research. I guess it is.”

“At least we know how he died.” She could feel the terror mounting. She desperately wanted to get out of here and she desperately wanted to stay.

“And I hope you realize now that there was not a thing you could have done to prevent his death or delay it. Nada. Scientifically proven; autopsy by two qualified doctors.”

She nodded. Why did people keep harping on that? “You told me that on the night he died, remember? When you sat with me. How did you know? Or did you just guess?”

“Almost always, when a person just drops like that, he’s gone. I didn’t know then, no. Guessed. I was saying anything I could think of to keep you from blaming yourself.”

“How did you know I’d blame myself?”

“’Cause I do it all the time.”

She snorted. “Well, I still do. If only I’d insisted he come in for a check.”

He gripped her upper arms and turned her to him, eye-to-eye. “Read my lips. He had two simultaneous events going on, a coronary occlusion
and
an aortic aneurysm. The aneurysm took that moment to burst. End of story. Unless you had big-city imaging equipment, there was no way you could have found them ahead of time. They are completely invisible to external examination.” He spaced his words carefully. “There is nothing you or I could have done, even if we had gotten him onto the examination table.” He stepped back.

She was on the verge of losing it, she just knew.

His voice softened. “Barbara mentioned Bill Aptos was in to chat.”

A change of subject, and just in time! She nodded. “He’s going to sue the town and the clinic.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open. “What…why…” He licked his lips. “So what did you say?”

“Nothing, as it turned out. I gasped so loud I sucked in some doughnut crumbs along with the air and couldn’t quit coughing.”

He laughed, a welcome, delighted laugh, and then the organ began its soothing dirge, so they walked inside. Part of her wish was granted. Standing room only and they couldn’t even move aside from the aisle.

Some patients, many strangers. Well, strangers to her, but probably not to Ben. He nodded recognition to several in the immediate neighborhood.

The huge room was furnished with many curved rows of pews that focused on a broad stage one riser high, low enough to be easy to step onto, but high enough to elevate the speaker or choir or whatever was up there. The casket was up there now, covered in sprays of flowers with more flowers and potted palms artfully placed all around.

The funeral proceeded as such things do, she supposed; Esther had not been to many. Three pastors presided, the chief’s border patrol chaplain, a rickety old fellow who was apparently a former pastor, and a fellow whom the program described as his current pastor.

And then the current pastor, whose name she forgot, made a dreadful mistake. He opened the mike to the audience. Young men in black suits ran up and down the aisles with cordless mikes, passing them to people here and there who stood up to extol the chief’s virtues, as if no one knew about them.

And there was spidery old Mr. Aptos down near the front row, and he was handed the mike. He turned and stepped onto the stage. “Harry!” He pointed to one of the councilmen. “Sam!” To another. He loudly named all five. “If you had acted when Dr. Hanson first started pressing this medical clinic thing, a dozen people would still be alive now, possibly including Paul Harden here. But no. You didn’t want to spend the money. Well, folks, you’re going to spend money now, because I am suing you and this town for negligence, breach of trust, and culpability in the death of Chief Harden. There’s one way you can avoid paying legal costs for the next ten years. You can build a hospital now, and I mean now, no stalling. Now! I am hereby donating the first million dollars toward its construction, but only if the foundation is laid in the next ninety days.”

One of the councilmen leaped to his feet. “You’re a retired teacher! You don’t have a million dollars! This is a funeral for a respected friend and you’re trying to turn it into a political rally.”

Mr. Aptos pointed. “Lars, you’re the bank manager. Do I have a million dollars?”

He stood, his voice loud and clear. “You have far more than a million dollars, Bill.” Then the fellow identified as Fred jumped up. “Don’t you threaten us, you old coot! It’s the county’s responsibility.”

Mr. Rustvold stood up. Esther knew he had been a math teacher or some such. And he was at the clinic during the storm, she remembered. “County be hanged. They have their regional hospital in Bemidji and they aren’t interested in us. I say it’s past time for us to do something, and the proof of it is lying in that casket.”

“Well, lawsuits aren’t going to help anything.” Esther couldn’t see who that was. “It just lines the lawyers’ pockets!”

Someone else shouted, and others called out, waving their arms to be heard. The noise was reaching cast-of-thousands proportions.

And then Ben suddenly changed. Esther could not explain it, even to herself, but one moment he was a gentle, caring man and highly attractive escort, and the next he was a formidable law enforcement officer ready to quell a riot. He stood straight and tall, and he went for his baton at the small of his back. He was nodding toward another border patrolman nearby. The fellow nodded back and they moved forward down the aisle, pushing aside people who stood in the way. And there were two other officers in the next aisle, and…

Esther wheeled and shoved her way out the glass doors. She ran down the walkway, away from the screaming, shouting, yelling hubbub of the funeral of the man she had held so dear.

Chapter Sixteen

T
hose old codgers certainly went at it.” Ansel didn’t sound like he was too thrilled with old codgers. He tossed some popcorn in his mouth and picked up his drink.

Ben nodded. What could he say? What should have been a time of remembering Chief’s life and service to the town had turned into a screaming match.

“Can you believe that Mr. Aptos? Suing?” Beth chimed in. She kept her rocker moving with one foot while nursing Nathan and joining in the conversation.

Ansel shook his head. “I had no idea he had that kind of money stashed. A million bucks to give away? They were teachers, for pete’s sake. And Rustvold’s almost as wealthy. How did they do that?”

“Maybe we should have him take us all back to school, this time on life and wealth management.” Ben shifted Dawn from his shoulder to the crook of his arm, who now that she had a full belly was half asleep. So was he. This had been some day.

“Ben, something’s been bothering me. I hate to bring it up but…” Beth who rarely appeared hesitant, was.

Ben shrugged. “Put it on the table and let’s deal with it.”

“Has Esther said anything to you about Dawn and social services?”

That slimy hand he was coming to know so well clenched his stomach. “Why? She said I could have Dawn if I didn’t drink anymore.”

“That sounds wonderful, but when we looked into maybe becoming foster parents, I learned quite a bit about the system. I think she, as a medical person, is legally bound to notify social services if a baby is abandoned and she learns of it.”

“What can they do to her?” Ansel asked.

“Do you mean Dawn or Esther?” At his shrug, she continued. “They might be able to revoke her license. This ward-of-the-court thing is pretty serious in case the mother ever shows up demanding her baby back.”

“But the mother abandoned her. She didn’t even give her to someone, just left her in the woods. What kind of a mother was she?” Ben’s voice rose; Bo’s ears pricked, and he looked about to rise. “It’s okay, fella, some things just get under my collar.” Bo laid his muzzle back on his front paws.

“Like you said in the beginning, she probably was given no choice.” Ansel always had been a voice of calm, even when they were growing up.

Right now calm was not on Ben’s list. He was living up to his part of the bargain. He wasn’t drinking and he had help. “Who would I talk to?”

“I guess if it were me, I would wait it out. Maybe I’m barking up a tree that got blown down in the storm. It’s just been on my mind. Far as I’m concerned, she’s part of the family. I know God has a plan for this but…” Beth wagged her head.

“But He’s not given you written instructions—personal ones?” Ben’s comment brought back youth group discussions from when they were all teens. Amazing how they thought they knew all the answers then. Until life got in the way.

“No, but He does promise to guide all our steps if we seek His will.”

He wished she’d left off the end of that sentence. Ben knew when he quit trusting God. The day Allie last said she loved him. She went home. How many times he wished he could have gone, too. “I better get to bed. I’ll put her down first.” He stood up with the baby he considered his daughter and held her close, safe, hands cupping her head. Beth had tied a tiny pink bow in Dawn’s sparse hair, right on top of her head. Her little round face with the tiny nose, the dark eyes that sparkled when she was happy, but were now softly closed in sleep, made him want to protect her from anything else happening to her. What a miracle that she was alive. He laid her down in her crib and covered her with the fleecy blanket Jenny had bought for her.
He must love you an awful lot to keep you alive, little one. Or have great plans for you.

Bo sat right at his leg, looking from the baby to Ben and back again.

“Yeah, you take care of her, big dog.” Ben rubbed the black ears, and Bo leaned against his leg. “Like Mom used to say, ‘God only knows what’s coming next.’ That’s for sure.” He turned and left the room, hitting the switch on his way out and leaving the door partially open. “Lord God, please don’t let anyone take her away. You can’t be such a cruel jokester as that.”

Of course, evidence such as Chief’s death and Allie’s might suggest otherwise. Friday morning he had to force himself into the office—for two reasons—first of all, no Chief, and second Samuel Perowsky, the man they’d sent as a temporary replacement. He had better be a short temporary before everyone threatened to walk out. Any other “Samuel” would be “Sam” five minutes into his job. Not this one. He wasn’t even Perowsky. He was
Chief
Perowsky, pronounced
per-OAV-skee
, not
per-OW-skee
. Maybe he just needed to be taken down a peg or two. Acting like he’d been sent to the armpit of the border patrol wasn’t scoring him any points. Within an hour of arriving, he had made no secret of the fact that he wanted to be back at headquarters and away from here.
May his wish be granted.

Why they’d not given the job to John Jordan, the second in command while Chief was here, was beyond Ben.

He was still pondering this mystery as he and the others gathered to be given the day’s assignments. No one was asked if he or she had a preference. The jobs were dished out arbitrarily without regard to anyone’s strengths or weaknesses. His duty regarding morning assignments completed, Perowsky left the room and the rest of them swapped eyebrow-raised looks. Half of them would go out on patrol, and half would assist the local public safety agencies in checking on farms and houses outside of town, since everyone within the town limits was now accounted for.

Ben was on the assistance half. He loved patrolling.

He asked no one in particular, “Has anyone talked with the Army Corps of Engineers lately?” and got a chorus of responses.

“Not since I heard they were going to install a temporary bridge.”

“That sure will make life easier.”

“I hear they’re doing it because the corps boys need the practice, not because they want to make our lives easier.”

“Gonna be a pontoon bridge. Any of you guys ever cross a floating bridge?”

“I hear they got floating bridges around Seattle someplace. Sounds kinda wobbly to me.”

Ben left the others to their speculations and stopped by Jenny’s station to see what she’d been hearing, not just about bridges, but about everything. Their regular dispatcher, Ada, was working 911, and Jenny seemed to be on the phone a lot taking calls from people checking in or asking questions. Ben waited until she finished a call. “Anything we need to know?”

That seemed to be one of Chief Perowsky’s favorite sayings: “A need-to-know basis.” Stark contrast with Chief’s “Let’s throw it all out here and brainstorm.” Far as Ben was concerned, anything going on in town should be everyone’s need to know. Well, mostly.

She sat back. “You can cross the Rusteads out on Timber Road off your list. That was him just now, and he says they are fine. Lots to repair, but people and animals secure. He said he surely won’t lack firewood this year and I should let him know if I hear that anyone’s looking for some. Here’s the list of folks we heard from.” She handed him two pages.

Ben tapped his upper lip with a finger. “All that wood getting cut up. Not just Rustead’s. I mean everyone in town seems to have at least one tree down. Who gets it?”

“They’ll dispose of it somehow, I’m sure. Landfill, I guess. The big question is who’s going to cut up all those trees. The line crews don’t have time, and the town maintenance crews are busy doing things like reinventing washed-out streets.”

“The football team is always looking for moneymakers. What if they do the cutting and sell the firewood? They could take truckloads down to Grand Forks and sell it there.”

“And cheap to anyone in town here who wants to buy it.” She cackled with delight. “Not only that, our football heroes want strong muscles, and that’ll sure build muscles. Great idea!”

“I’ll call Coach and suggest it.”

“And I’ll call Andy Anders, head of the parent support group.”

Ben gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Any other changes on this list?”

“Not that I know of. Will call if I hear.”

“You heard from Esther?”

“Not yet this
A.M
. You want her to call you?”

He shook his head. He should probably drop by Chief’s house and see how Amber was managing. She’d looked pretty frazzled, not to mention angry, after that fiasco during her father’s service. But then she looked kind of worn anyway, as if she’d aged twenty years instead of the ten or so since he’d last seen her. If half of what he’d heard about the way she was living was true, no wonder she looked so old and worn.

Missing his furry partner, he headed east of town to his assigned area. Stop at farms, knock on doors, chat with the folks, leave notes on kitchen tables when no one was home. Remarkable how few people locked their doors.

He had two more farms to check, but instead of turning south as per assignment, he stayed on the main road to the river and the no-longer-functional bridge, and he had no idea why. As he left the road and pulled up near the shore, men in fatigues and hard hats were standing on the bank, pointing to something in the flood and gesturing.

Ben parked his SUV and climbed out. “What’s up?”

One of the men turned, but Ben could see it, too, the mud-covered roof of a van. It had drifted against a fallen tree, trapped in the waving limbs. Only the roof stuck out; water swirled past it almost to the tops of the windows. “Someone’s car got washed away? Hello, Abe.”

“Ben. Good to see you again.” The stocky fellow snickered and added, “In a non-competitive environment.” They shook. Abe Higgins. Seeing him took Ben way back.

One of the others asked, “You two know each other?”

“Casually,” Ben explained. “Players on rival football teams. I quarterbacked the victorious Pineville Eleven, and he scored the only touchdown for the Fillmore Eagles.”

The former tight end grunted. “Crooked refs, or we woulda won. I called the highway patrol. We’ll need a tow truck to winch it out.”

“Or something bigger. If it’s full of water it’ll weigh a ton. Anyone been out to see if someone is in it?”

“Not yet. We just spotted it half an hour or so ago. Probably been in the water since the storm, think? Maybe came downriver before the water rose too high to let it go under the bridge.”

“Hm.” Ben shook his head. “The patrol office hasn’t received any reports of someone going off the bridge.”
But then, we are now on a need-to-know basis. We might not have needed that tidbit of information.

“Think the river current could have moved it clear down from Baker’s Ford?”

“Floods do strange things.”

A state trooper stopped on the other side of the river and got out. Ben knew him. He flipped his radio to local. “Hey, Leroy? I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Leroy Larrimer radioed back, “So am I, but there’s still a lot to do here. Another week at least, the boss says. Your tow truck is on the way.”

“We’re glad to have you.” Ben meant it, too. He turned to Abe. “We should go out there. If there’s anyone in it, we’ll need to call in forensics.”

Warren nodded. “I’m way ahead of you, hotshot. Called a fishing buddy; he’s bringing his inflatable. Uses it for walleye fishing. Billy can catch walleyes like you wouldn’t believe. You want fresh walleye, just ask Billy; he’ll get you some in no time, in season or out of season.” He stared at the roiling brown water awhile. “Never seen the river this high or for this long.”

“Me neither.” Why did that submerged van hold such fascination for him? Ben was not sure, but he couldn’t pull himself away. Crazy. Or God speaking?

Behind them, a dark red pickup left the road and came lurching over to the riverbank. The bulging sides of an inflatable boat stuck out of the bed. The driver got out. Were he from the Deep South he would be the perfect Good Ole Boy, complete in overalls. He grinned hello to Abe, grasped his boat by a built-in loop in the bow, and hauled it out. It plopped to the ground with a bouncy
fwupp
, and he dragged it down to the water. He returned to the truck bed and lifted out a small electric fishing motor.

From across the river, Leroy radioed, “Hey, James. You know this river?”

Ben thumbed his radio. “I was born and grew up here. This was our playground.”

“So did I,” said Abe. He looked at Ben. “Wanna go out with us?”

“In a word, yes.” Ben whipped out his cell and pushed the speed dial for the office. When Jenny answered, he told her what he was doing and where.

She responded, “A drowned vehicle. We haven’t had any missing persons calls. If there’s someone in it…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m going out with some others in a Zodiac, so I’ll let you know. It’s closer to the other bank than to our side, hung up in a sifter. Highway patrol is there.”

“Be careful!”

He was going to say,
Yes, Mother
, but he didn’t. With the river running this fast and high, there was in fact a strong element of danger.

Billy mounted his little trolling motor, and Abe and Ben climbed in. They each took an oar, Abe on the right (starboard, Ben knew, but no one used
port
and
starboard
around here) and Ben on the left. The puny electric motor screamed, maxed out, but it could not keep the inflatable going in the right direction. Grimly, Billy turned and headed upstream, hugging shore on this side. “You guys steer.”