Winter's Secret (33 page)

"How old did Old Doc think she is?" Penny asked.

"Two or three months." Rodd's shoulders ached from the burdens of the day. I
feel ninety years old.

Bruce walked up and rested a hand on Rodd's shoulder. "Rodd, you look like you've had a rough day. Come on in the kitchen. Penny saved you some supper."

The other man's obvious concern made Rodd feel guiltier. "I'm not—"

"You're not leaving," Penny scolded, "until you've eaten and we've talked. It sounds like you had a hellish day. Zak, say good night to the sheriff. It's your bedtime. Daddy will tuck you in for the night. I have to get the sheriff his supper."

Zak looked like he wanted to argue, but his father swung him up into his arms. "We had a deal, Zak. You could stay up to see the new baby and the sheriff if you went to bed without complaining. You're not going to break your promise, are you?"

"No," Zak admitted with deep regret. The little guy called over his father's shoulder, "Good night, Sheriff. 'Member you promised to take me out to see Mr. Carey and your cows on your day off tomorrow."

Rodd waved and followed Penny into the kitchen. He tried to think of something to say. Finally he came up with, "Where are the foster brother and sister? In bed?"

"Their grandmother picked them up this morning. That's why Social Services had you bring this little one to me." Cradling the sleeping infant with one arm, Penny took a wrapped dish from the refrigerator, put it in the microwave, and turned it on. The aroma of roast beef soon filled the kitchen. "The father and mother agreed to let the grandmother take them until they have settled their differences over the divorce. So you see, we had room for this little one."

Rodd sat silent while Penny poured him fresh coffee and laid his place setting. Her kitchen was filled with peace. He tried to let it work on him. The edge left his emotions, but deep fatigue, almost shock, remained. When she set his warmed plate in front of him, he bowed his head and said the childhood grace his uncle had taught him long ago. He was prayed out today, asking pardon for his dreadful mistake.

Bruce came in and sat down across from him. "I'll let you two talk while I get this little one settled in the nursery." Penny walked out, cooing to the baby girl.

"We heard all about the explosion," Bruce said. "I know you're feeling guilty because you weren't able to save the mom and dad."

Losing the trace of appetite he'd had, Rodd stared at Bruce. "If I'd thought they were in immediate danger, I would have tried to get them out—"

"And then all three would have died and probably you too. Rodd, you're not God. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, and you saved a baby's life. I call that a pretty good day's work. We can't have you going under. Too much has happened in this town this winter. The burglaries. Veda's larceny. Everyone's worried about Wendy."

Rodd's head jerked up. "Why? What happened to her?"

Bruce gave him a pained look and explained. "She's missed two, almost three, days of work at the clinic. Said she was sick, but she just couldn't leave her trailer. Old Doc was afraid she'd slip into a depression."

Rodd paused to get his voice under control. Wendy didn't deserve to be upset like this. "Did she come out of it?"

"She's back at work." Bruce nodded. "But this thing with her uncle has taken its toll on her. Poor kid. She's had so much to deal with in her life. She's come through it all and turned out to be one of the sweetest people I know. Do you think Dutch did what Elroy has accused him of?"

Worry for Wendy made Rodd a little sick, but he focused on the question about the investigation. "I can't comment—"

"Level with me, Rodd. You know it will go no further."

The dam inside Rodd broke. He put down his fork. "After spending a day questioning Elroy, I think he's too dumb to have planned the burglaries, much less the kegger. I think it's quite logical that Dutch was the one who thought up the MO for the burglaries. It would be easy for him to keep track of his niece, then tell Elroy when and where to strike."

Bruce listened, frowning.

"And Elroy's quite capable of hitting Wendy from behind and blowing up his beater truck to get a new one." Rodd clenched his fist. He'd been tempted to deck Dietz when he'd questioned him about the assault on Wendy at Kainzes'.

Now Rodd sucked in air. "But breaking into my house doesn't fit Elroy. It was just a stunt to show up the sheriff. Ego showing off. That fits Rieker. Cocky. And using that old grudge between them as a cover fits Dutch. He's quite capable of coming up with the idea of forming such a unexpected and short-lived partnership, knowing that no one would suspect the two of them of collusion."

"When did the thieves fall out? Or should I ask why?" Bruce folded his arms.

Rodd took a swallow of coffee. "Dutch probably realized fairly early that he could use the fact that Elroy actually carried out the burglaries to stab Dietz in the back. Then Elroy started seeing Dutch's longtime girlfriend, Carlene. That weakened the partnership further. But the assault on Wendy probably sharpened Rieker's craving for revenge. So Dutch set Elroy up to get caught with the anonymous calls."

"Why did Elroy hit Harlan's place when Harlan was home? That didn't fit—"

"I think that was Elroy's revenge for my bringing his nephew Trav in for questioning. And I think Elroy would have enjoyed beating up an old man." Rodd had nicknamed the thief the Weasel and he'd been right. Elroy had enjoyed trashing homes of defenseless seniors. He'd killed Ma's old dog and lured Rodd out onto the ice. If Wendy hadn't been there with her rope, Rodd would have had a time getting safely away from his snowmobile before it went through the cracking ice. He didn't doubt for a moment that Elroy would have left him to his fate. He wasn't the kind who'd face an enemy. Rodd could easily understand the enmity between Elroy and Dutch.

"Didn't Dutch realize that if Elroy was caught, he would spill the beans on Dutch?"

Rodd added silently, And why didn't Dutch understand how much his actions would hurt his niece? Rodd shrugged, trying to loosen his tired back muscles. "Elroy can implicate Dutch for the next twenty years. But if there's no evidence and no witnesses to back him up, I can't touch Dutch. Dutch isn't out of the clinic yet. Elroy managed to get the best of him in their fight. I've finally got a search warrant for Dutch's place. I had a hard time convincing the judge that Dutch was implicated since all we had to go on was Elroy's story—evidently no one puts any stock in Elroy's word. Maybe I will find something before Dutch comes home."

Bruce shook his head. "They can't have made much money at this. Why did they even bother?"

Rodd thought of the money Dutch had given Sage at the airport. He hoped the young girl didn't realize where that Christmas money had come from. He just shook his head as if he didn't know. He wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup. "Neither of them is working. From talking to the victims, I figure Dutch and Elroy each pulled in about six or seven hundred dollars from all the burglaries."

Bruce made a sound of disgust. "Most of which probably ended up in the till at Flanagan's. Why didn't they steal more than cash?"

Rodd took another swallow of coffee to clear his throat. "Fencing stuff means involving a third party and leaving a trail of evidence. Dutch was evidently too smart to do that."

The thought of how this man could be related to sweet, honest Wendy hit to Rodd one more time.

Bruce echoed Rodd's earlier thoughts. "Why didn't he think about how this would affect his nieces?" He looked at Rodd. "It's so sad."

"What's sad is that I'm going to have a hard time proving Rieker's connection without any hard evidence. I just hope I find something. I hate for him to get off scot-free. It'll just make him more likely to try something in the future."

Bruce nodded. "You'll have to turn this over to God. What we cannot do alone, he can. Now eat your supper. You'll feel better."

Though the sour taste of defeat lingered, Rodd picked up his fork and took a bite of the tender beef.

Penny came in and began unloading onto the counter the bag of diapers and formula Rodd had also brought. "Poor little sweetheart. How long do you think it will take to find this little one's family?"

Rodd answered, "I don't know. The license plate was burned, but the number was still molded into the metal. I pulled it up on the computer."

"Then it shouldn't take long," Bruce said

Rodd shook his head. "The car was stolen two days ago outside of Milwaukee. And we have no surviving ID like a driver's license from either victim. The coroner will have to try to ID them by dental records. That could take a long time."

Early the next afternoon Rodd drove into his own drive. The gray sky was heavy with snow waiting to drop on them. Harlan sat beside him and Zak sat in the backseat. Zak had been begging to see Rodd's bam and cows for a long time. With the burglaries solved, Rodd decided the excursion would be a good diversion. And God knew he needed one. Elroy was to be arraigned tomorrow, and Rodd was waiting for the analysis of residue on some clothing from Dutch's trailer. It might match the explosives used in LaFollette and link Dutch to that crime at least.

"Wow!" Zak exclaimed. "It looks just like the barn in my storybook."

Harlan chuckled. "That's because it's a very old barn."

"You don't have one like that, Mr. Carey." Zak pointed out.

"No, unfortunately, my old barn fell down before you were born, and I had to put up the machine shed. Besides, I'd given up on raising cattle. If you have stock, Rodd's barn is the best kind."

"Is cattle cows?" Zak asked.

"Yes."

"What's stock?"

"Another way to say farm animals."

"Oh."

Rodd listened to the exchange, enjoying Zak's lively interest in everything. He wished some of it would rub off on him. Every morning he woke up with what felt like a two-ton sack of rocks on his back that he was forced to drag around with him all day. He parked outside the barn entrance.

Zak trotted over the packed snow ahead of them into the barn. "What can I do? Can I help?"

Rodd grinned and hurried to take Zak's hand. "Here, you can pump the water for the cows. I'll get it started for you."

"Wow!" Zak jumped up and down. Harlan brought over a wooden box for the little guy to stand on so he could handle the old hand pump.

Rodd got the pump working easily and showed Zak how to push down the handle. Every time the water gushed out into the sluice to the trough, Zak shouted with glee.

Rodd walked over to the ladder and climbed up to the loft, where his pitchfork stood against the wall. He picked it up and began to fork down hay to the cattle. Harlan followed him up.

Rodd glanced at him and then down at Zak, still working the pump. "Why do kids get so much fun out of pumping water?"

Harlan smiled. "It's something easy they can do, and it's something they can't break so they don't get yelled at."

"Sounds right," Rodd said

"Rodd, what are your intentions concerning my granddaughter Wendy?"

The out-of-the-blue question startled Rodd. Pitchfork in his hands, he turned to face Harlan. "I don't know what—"

"I know it's an old-fashioned question. But I'm in my eighties so I remember being asked that question when I was courting. I want to know if you are serious about my Wendy or not."

Rodd's mouth went dry. "Does 'serious' mean marriage?"

Harlan nodded. "I grew up with your great-uncle George, so I am sure that he would ask you the same question. You've found yourself a good woman, and it's obvious to everyone that you have deep feelings for her. So what's happened between you two?"

"She won't return my calls." Rodd cleared his throat.

Harlan walked over and put a hand on Rodd's shoulder. "There's more to this than just you and Wendy."

"What is it then?" Rodd's voice didn't sound normal. It rasped and felt rusty.

"I think it has to do with the fact that a Christian needs to depend on God every day."

"Wendy beat you to it. She already made that point."

"She did?" Harlan said, his eyes sparkling with good humor. "Smart girl."

Rodd smiled. "I finally turned the case over to God while I waited outside your home that night."

"Glad to hear it." With one of his large, gnarled, work-worn hands, Harlan squeezed Rodd's shoulder. "Don't expect to feel anything and don't expect it to 'take' the first time, son. But from now on, whenever you begin to worry, give it over to God. Just let God in. Okay? Now we'll both have faith that in God's own time, not ours, he'll bring Dutch to justice."

Rodd pulled away and lifted another forkful of hay over the side of the loft. Harlan's counsel made sense, and how many times had Uncle George said, "Lean not on thine own understanding. But in all thy ways, acknowledge the Lord"? Rodd felt better. Having his uncle's old friend here with him was a true blessing.

"Now, son, what are your intentions toward my Wendy?"

Rodd looked into Harlan's eyes. "I wasn't very nice to Wendy the night I arrested Elroy. I yelled at her, but she scared me so much, coming right out on the ice while it was breaking all around me—"