Chapter 4: Patriarch

Farmhouse

“Hrrm,” Mead cleared his throat as he clicked on the tape recorder. “Present at this time are Rosebud Falls Police Detective Mead Oliver, suspect Larry Syre, and attorney for the suspect, Matt Hogue. I have some questions regarding your activity this weekend and it will be much to your benefit if we can get quick answers.” Larry glared at the detective.

“Where’s the bad cop who shot me?”

“Larry, I’ve known you for a long time. Being a smartass won’t help you,” Mead said.

“I have instructed my client to answer and assist in your investigation as much as possible without incriminating himself,” Matt said. “I may, at any time, interrupt if I deem the questioning is inappropriate.” Mead nodded at the attorney.

“Mr. Syre, did you pick up a loaded flatbed at Savage Sand and Gravel on Saturday morning, November 17?”

“Yes.”

“Was that trailer destined for Kissimmee, Florida?”

“No.”

“Where did it go?”

“To the address on the bill of lading, idiot. Newnan, Georgia.” Mead had dealt with Larry Syre, usually intoxicated, enough times over the years to ignore the insult and continue.

“What was your cargo?”

“That’s on the bill of lading, too. Twenty tons of cut limestone.”

“Do you know the rough shape and size of a load like that?”

“It’s a big rectangle that sits on the bed of the truck. Why would I pay attention to anything but whether the load is secure and the scales tip correctly?”

“When did you receive word that you had a load waiting?”

“Friday, a little after noon.”

“Is it typical for you to get a load at such short notice?”

“Yeah. They aren’t that organized over there. Especially since that fairy in a skirt took over,” Larry snorted. Matt shook his head and moaned but didn’t interrupt.

“Who called to give you the job specs?”

“Simon Alexander. He’s the second shift crew foreman. Mostly they load gravel trucks that local drivers deliver the next day.”

“Is it unusual for a second shift foreman to call you at noon on a day he isn’t working?”

“Nah. He knows I sleep late. And it was a quick call. Pick up and deliver. Be back by Monday morning and get a bonus.”

“That’s a long drive. Why didn’t you leave immediately?”

“I ... uh...” For the first time Larry seemed unsure of himself. “I was still hungover,” he finally said. “Yeah. Never drink and drive. I hit the road as soon as I was able.”

“That’s all for now. Let me remind you that you are under arrest, even though you are in a hospital. You will remain cuffed to the bed and an officer is on guard outside your door. You have access to your attorney and your wife may wish to visit. Pending further investigation, we are holding you on suspicion of transporting stolen property, possession of controlled substances and paraphernalia, child trafficking, resisting arrest, and threatening an officer with a firearm. I suggest you and your attorney discuss ways in which you can cooperate with this investigation to clear your name. You will be transferred to the county jail in two hours, pending doctor’s release orders.” Mead turned on his heel and left the room.

“Well, fuck you very much,” Larry sneered at the closed door. Matt finally broke his silence and leaned toward him.

“Larry, stick to your story. You could have been out of here and asleep at home if you hadn’t pulled that stupid stunt when they arrested you. You’ll have to pay for that but everything else ... you’re just a dupe.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry to say it, but you don’t know anything about anything.”

“I hated to throw Si under the bus.”

“Makes no difference. I doubt he knows any more than you do. Or me. Just stick to what you know and don’t say anything else. It’s the same as when you get drunk and disorderly.”

Matt left the hospital room with a tight smile on his face.

Sheriff’s Deputy Jeff Carlisle approached the farmhouse with caution, flanked by two other deputies. Mead Oliver had taken the lead in getting a warrant signed for the arrest and questioning of Simon Alexander but the farmhouse was outside the city limits so the sheriff’s office had to execute it.

Jeff pounded on the door and listened. The other deputies took positions at the corners of the house with their hands on their guns. No one responded.

“Anything?” Jeff asked his partners.

“All clear,” both responded.

“Sheriff’s Department. Open up!” Jeff shouted as he pounded on the door again. Again, there was no response. “Okay, guys. We’ll have to go in. Be ready for anything.” They drew their weapons. One deputy backed up Jeff while the other circled the house. The deputy with Jeff prepared to crash the door but Jeff turned the doorknob and it swung open.

The sight that met them explained the silence when they knocked. Like most farmhouses, the door opened to a combination living room-dining room. Simon Alexander sat at the table with his wife. Both were slumped over their food, a plate of cold spaghetti and meatballs. Jeff rushed to the table and checked for a pulse on the cold bodies.

“Call the coroner,” he said softly.

Breaking News

Cameron LaCoe stormed into the office of The Elmont Mirror in a wave of fury.

“Kelly! Get to Simon Alexander’s farmhouse and find some way to get pictures! Ken, go with her and get the story. Karen? What’s the status on the children story?”

“What’s going on?” Axel demanded as he came out of his office.

“What’s going on? We have three of the biggest stories in Rosebud Falls breaking right now and your staff is sitting on its ass. That’s what’s going on,” Cameron shouted. Most of the staff didn’t know Cameron owned the Mirror through his trust.

“Cam,” Karen said softly. “Everyone is on task. We just intercepted the news of the raid at the Alexanders’. We didn’t get advance notice like we usually do, so it must have come through the sàmhach. Kelly’s on her way. I was going to go with her, but Ken’s a good choice. We’re not just sitting on our asses here.”

“I want to know who ordered sàmhach and kept us in the dark,” Cameron continued, only slightly abated. “Who cut the news outlets out of a discovery like this?”

“The Family heads know. You should talk to your grandfather. The Nussbaum,” Karen rebuked him. Axel looked at the disturbed people in the office and waved to Ken and Kelly to get out the door.

“Would you at least come into the office so we don’t disrupt getting this newspaper out?” he said. Cameron followed Axel and turned toward Karen when she didn’t follow. She held up her hands and shook her head.

“You two are the bosses. I have to finish editing the Larry Syre arrest story and get the released details out on the children.” She turned her back on the men and went to her desk. Cameron started to say something but Axel dragged him into the office and closed the door.

“What the hell gives you the right to charge into my office and start ordering my people around?” he shouted at Cameron.

“I’m the owner and publisher. This being the last to know has got to stop.”

“We’re never the last to know,” Axel responded. “The people are the last to know because some punk asshole charges in and disrupts us getting the news out.”

“Watch yourself, Axel. This punk asshole can throw your ass out of here.”

“Go ahead. What will you accomplish? Are you going to sit behind this desk and edit every story, lay out the paper, and get on the press by ten? Maybe you should fire everyone and write all the stories, too. That should do a lot for people’s confidence in what we report.”

“We need to move to daily operation and put a person firmly on the police beat,” Cameron insisted. “Things are moving too fast in Rosebud Falls for our sleepy little newspaper.”

“We publish the news Tuesday through Saturday. Nothing happened over the weekend that we could have reported on Monday. We had no information about what was going on. And for good reason,” Axel insisted. He was over twice Cameron’s age and had been in the newspaper business his whole life. He’d never had an interfering publisher before and was just this close to quitting.

“I want to go to six days instead of five. I’d go seven if I thought we had the advertising. Those kids have been in the hospital for three days and no one knew. Gee has been there. Why didn’t Karen get the news in here before the Family meeting this morning?” Cameron was settling down, though still obviously upset.

“Fine. We’ll go to six days. I already have a budget. It will cost you a third of what the paper costs now to increase one day. That means we need to raise revenue by thirty-five percent. Do you want me to raise the advertising price or send someone to Palmyra to try to get the city businesses to advertise? We’ve already maxed out the business advertising in town,” Axel said. He’d always wanted a daily paper but the numbers just wouldn’t support it. “And what difference would it make? You aren’t thinking of breaking the tradition of silence when it’s imposed, are you? We won’t get any news at all. From the story Karen got, keeping the silence may have been the only way they managed to capture the driver.”

“Yeah, we’ll keep the silence. But the people have a right to know what’s going on in our town. We print Friday’s news on Saturday and don’t give another word until Tuesday. By then, it’s all old news.”

“There’s never been more news than that,” Axel insisted.

“There is now. No matter how much we try to keep a lid on it, we aren’t local any longer. State police were called to investigate the Sheriff for shooting a suspect. We’re all lucky it wasn’t fatal. By the end of the week there will be feds here to investigate the children. And the transport of Syre’s cargo—which we still don’t know the contents of—is an interstate felony. Now we have dead people in a farmhouse and a missing researcher from LaRue Labs. I want to know what is happening in this town.”

“That’s really the issue, isn’t it, Cameron. You don’t know what’s going on. It isn’t about getting the news out to the people. Troy broadcast about the children from Karen’s notes before noon today. It’s all about you not knowing. You should get out of this business. It isn’t your private gossip channel. You have your cousins for that.”

“Troy ended his broadcast today by claiming he’s been sick over the weekend and is going to Palmyra for tests. What the hell is wrong with him that can’t be checked out at our hospital?”

“Nosy Families, that’s what. Doesn’t make a difference to the people of Rosebud Falls. You still aren’t the Kardashians,” Axel said. Cameron scowled at him, the wind taken out of his sails.

“Get me a daily newspaper by the end of the month, Axel. Six days a week. If you need help, hire it. If you can’t do it, I’ll get someone who can.” He left the office as abruptly as he arrived with only a passing glare at Karen.

Here/Now

It was already dark when Gee left the hospital. He looked up into the cold night sky and could see the stars through his own breath. He’d eaten with the children and then played with them after dinner until they got sleepy and he tucked them in bed.

“We’ve given them a light sedative with their meal,” Ellie said as she led Gee away from the children’s room. “Adam needs to have blood drawn and we’re afraid the process might traumatize them. As soon as we know they are fully asleep, we’ll draw the blood and they won’t remember it at all.”

“Isn’t that what we’re dealing with? They don’t remember at all,” Gee sighed. He’d kissed each child goodnight on the forehead and thought he caught a hint of a smile on Littlest’s face.

Why do I care?

His thoughts raced as he contemplated the sky and slowly walked home in the darkness. Of course, everyone cared. He was no exception. He felt compelled to do more than nod his head as the doctors discussed the children’s condition. He needed more than to wish for them to find a cure—whatever that might be. The first time he’d seen the children he knew he couldn’t leave them to face whatever the future held by themselves. Healing? Hope? Heartache? Whatever, he would be there with them.

I have something none of the others have. I have no memory.

It seemed odd to consider the absence of something in his life to be a thing he could use to help them. He was sure they held more in their heads than had been discovered in these three intense days. When he lost his memory ... Gee tried to think back but still remembered no specific events prior to entering Rosebud Falls. When he lost his identity, he still held fundamental knowledge he had accumulated through his life. He could read, write, do math, talk, and carry on with the habits of life. He’d even fallen in love. He was sure the children still held that spark of knowledge within them, too, even if the horrors of the life they had lived were better left buried.

“Gee? Are you here, Love?” Karen called as she came up the stairs.

“In bed waiting for you” he called back. The walk in the cold and the long hot shower he’d taken did little to soothe him. But Karen...

“Oh, how I like hearing that,” she laughed as she entered the room. For the first time in her life she felt like she had a reason to be home at night and was becoming resentful of the evening hours spent at the newspaper. She crossed quickly to the bed and kissed him. “I’ll join you as soon as I can get ready.” She headed toward the bathroom, removing her work clothing as she went.

“How were things at work?” Gee asked through the open door.

“Oh, crazy, of course. We have three competing headlines for tomorrow with the discovery of the children, the arrest of Larry Syre, and the two dead people found at the farm,” she said.

“What? When did all this happen? I mean, I knew silence had been lifted and you’d be writing about the children. What else?” Gee asked.

“Oh, dear,” Karen said, coming to the door with her toothbrush in hand. “You’ve been so focused on them you didn’t even hear about the other things going on. Mead and Brad arrested Larry Syre when he rolled into his driveway this morning. There were shots fired but Syre is recovering in jail. He drove the truck that was supposed to deliver the children to some place in Georgia. Sheriff’s deputies went to the house of the man who gave Larry the driving job and found him and his wife dead at the dining room table.” Karen stuck the toothbrush back in her mouth and returned to the bathroom as Gee looked after her.

“So much happened!” Gee said. He waited patiently for Karen to finish in the bathroom and come to bed. “Anything else?” he asked as she cuddled next to him.

“Well, that was the news. But just after we heard about the Alexanders—the dead people—Cameron stormed into the office. I don’t think most of the staff even know he owns the paper. Owners have always kept a low profile. He started shouting orders to people and hauled Axel into his office where there were more raised voices that we all tried to ignore while we did our work. When Cameron left, he yelled, ‘Do it or I’ll find someone who can.’ Axel looked shell-shocked.”

“What did Cameron want him to do?”

“Axel wouldn’t say. I’m pretty sure I smelled a healthy dose of alcohol on his breath when I left the office tonight.”

“Gee wrapped Karen in his arms and gave her a sip of wine. She took it gratefully.

“How are the children?” she asked.

“A child psychologist showed up today.”

“Adam told us this morning in our briefing that they had an expert coming up from Palmyra. Are you being relieved?”

“No. I’m getting some good tips as to what to do when I’m with them. She’s observing from outside.”

“We watched you for a bit from outside after the meeting. Poor Collin. He’s heartbroken. Are the tips helping?”

“I think so. Littlest smiled today.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“I just wish I knew what I was doing. I feel like I’m wandering around in their minds and could do so much damage if I’m not careful.”

“Have you planned what you’ll do tomorrow?”

“Not so much. I’ve been wallowing in ‘why me?’ I don’t mean that to sound like I don’t want to be doing this, but why me? Why am I ... able? ... at least a little ... to connect to these children.”

“Are you helping them remember?”

“No. I’m going to talk to the psychologist tomorrow. I’m not sure I want them to remember.”

“Why not, Gee? It seems so important.”

“What do they have to remember? They’ve been held in isolation somewhere for long enough that they could have their minds wiped with drugs and learn they had to be blindly obedient to anything they were told to do. How long was that? Certainly, no less than three months. With the age range of the children, the process could take a year or more. The most recent part of their lives was filled with discipline and abuse under the influence of drugs. Is that what we want them to remember?” Gee pleaded. The tears in his eyes broke and trickled down his face.

“Are you afraid to face your memories from before you arrived here in Rosebud Falls?” she asked as she kissed his cheek.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just never seemed important to me. I found my life here. I found my love.” He returned her kiss. “Being now is all I can remember as important.”

“Maybe that is what you should teach the children,” Karen whispered. “Teach them to be here and now like you are. If there is a purpose to things, maybe that is why you are with them. Show the children how to be here and now.”

Investigation

“Judge Warren and District Attorney Mazzenga, we’ve completed our investigation of the discharge of weapons by Sheriff Johnson and Officer McCarran on Monday, November nineteenth,” the state trooper said.

“That was fast,” Warren commented. It was only Tuesday afternoon the twentieth. “Please proceed.”

“In short, we find that everything was conducted according to proper procedures. Detective Oliver approached the driver with his weapon secured, per protocol. He was backed up by Sheriff Johnson and Officer McCarran, who had their weapons trained on the suspect. The suspect was warned not to move when he suddenly spun to the cab of his truck and brought a shotgun to bear on the detective. Responding to the clear danger to his fellow officer, Sheriff Johnson fired on the suspect, hitting him in the lower right abdomen. The suspect pitched forward, losing his grip on the shotgun. This has been confirmed with footage from Detective Mead’s dashcam.”

“What about McCarran?” District attorney Kendra Mazzenga asked.

“We have determined that McCarran did not have a clear shot on the suspect, who was partially hidden by the open door of the cab. His weapon was accidentally discharged when Mrs. Syre struck him with the storm door as she rushed out of the house. The spent bullet was recovered from a pillar on the porch. Officer McCarran is still relatively new on the force and should be given additional training in suspect apprehension and assessment of environmental threats as well as personnel threats.”

“Any further recommendations?” Judge Warren asked.

“There is no reason both men cannot return to active duty unless they request time off for counseling. In that case, we recommend they receive the time off with pay. Discharging a firearm in the line of duty always has an emotional effect on the officer but both of these men seem at peace with their actions.”

“Very well. Thank you, Trooper Smith.”

“What’s our case status?” Sheriff Johnson asked as he strode into his office Wednesday morning.

“Sheriff. Good to have you back,” Jeff Carlisle said as he stood. “This chair doesn’t fit me.”

“I hear you filled it well. Now, where are we?”

“I have Deputy Elliott standing watch at the farmhouse as that forensics expert from Palmyra goes over the scene. Every effort was made not to contaminate the crime scene. We even spread plastic before the bodies were removed by the coroner. The preliminary report from Dr. Gaston indicates the couple was poisoned. The exact substance is not yet known. However, it must have been very fast acting as both appear to have died within moments of ingesting it. We don’t have anything from forensics yet, but you’ve worked with Pete Remington before. He’ll probably be able to tell us the vintage wine they were drinking.”

“Did the coroner give a time of death?”

“Yes. He estimates they died at dinner Friday night, about seven o’clock.”

“Hmm. Detective Oliver says Syre was slow getting out of the truck because he was texting Alexander to tell him the delivery was complete.”

“Alexander was already dead.”

“Mmmhmm. So who texted back ‘Good’? Who has Alexander’s cellphone?”

“I’ll call Deputy Elliott and have him check the premises. There was no cellphone listed in the effects of the deceased.”

The Alexander farmhouse was outside Mead’s jurisdiction but he and Brad Johnson had worked so closely coordinating city and county operations that it was only natural for him to accompany the sheriff out to the farm.

“What do you think of all this, Mead?” Johnson asked.

“The investigation? I think someone is working overtime to throw us off.”

“Syre?”

“No. He’s brawn, not brain. He’s well-known in the jail from previous arrests, mostly on drunkenness and domestic violence. He’ll get six months for resisting arrest. That’s about the best we can hope for him. I don’t think he had any idea what he was transporting,” Mead said. “His attorney, Matt Hogue makes me uncomfortable.”

“Something shady?”

“Just reputation. He used to be General Counsel for Savage Sand & Gravel before the takeover. Now he’s set up an independent practice in town and was right on the spot to represent Syre. He could be covered in mud or just slippery as hell. Either way, I don’t trust him.”

“Well, here we are,” Johnson said, pulling into the long driveway of the Alexander farmhouse. “Let’s take a look inside.”

“This place is sure isolated,” Mead said when he stepped out of the car and looked around. “It’s easy to forget how much open country there is around our little city.”

“Yes. The new annexation gets it a little closer, but once you hit the county roads, the population density drops drastically.”

“That would be the border of the Wild Woods back there, wouldn’t it?” Mead asked, pointing at a line of trees visible from the house. Johnson nodded. “I wonder if there is an access point from here.”

“It wasn’t suicide,” Pete Remington said. “They didn’t poison themselves. There was nothing in the food. Of course, we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report before we know what toxin we’re looking for. But there is other evidence.”

“Like?” Johnson and Mead were being led through the house on a plastic mat that had been laid down from the front door to the kitchen.

“Mrs. Alexander was a meticulous housekeeper. Notice how the carpet stands in the living room with the vacuum marks still in place? You can see on the other side of the mat that the same marks continue through the dining room and under the table. Notice how they are flattened and trampled around this end of the table?”

“That’s where they were found, right?”

“Right. But look there, under the table. The area under that third chair is just as matted and flattened as the area under the chairs where the bodies were found. This leads me to believe a third person was at dinner with them.”

“Where’s the third person’s food?” Mead asked.

“Exactly,” Remington continued. “Remnants of it are in the garbage disposal.” They continued into the kitchen. A white sheet on the floor in front of the sink displayed a disassembled garbage disposal. Remington opened a cabinet and pointed at wine glasses. “Notice anything strange about this display?”

The two policemen looked. Mead’s left eye squinted and the corner of his mouth pulled back.

“The glasses in the front row are right side up while the rest are upside down,” he said.

“Someone who didn’t know Mrs. Alexander’s methods replaced the wine glasses the wrong way,” Remington acknowledged.

“Mightn’t she just keep glasses in front that were often used?” Johnson asked.

“Certainly. But that would only account for two glasses, not three. And, while I haven’t dusted them, you can clearly see that these three glasses have no fingerprints. They’ve been washed, polished, and put away without so much as a partial print on them.”

“Gloves?”

“Undoubtedly. But you can see from here that all the other glassware in the cabinet has at least a partial print.” Remington shined an ultraviolet light on the glassware and the difference was obvious. “And there are no gloves under the sink or in the trash.”

“Let’s reconstruct this,” Johnson said. “The Alexanders had a guest, someone they knew, for dinner. That person poured poisoned wine that the Alexanders consumed but he didn’t. When they collapsed at their places, the perpetrator collected the glasses and wine bottle, dumped his own plate of food in the garbage disposal, washed the dishes while wearing gloves, put the glasses away wrong, and finally took the gloves and wine bottle with him. Probably with Simon Alexander’s cellphone. That’s a lot of speculation based on only a few clues, Pete.”

“I can only give you the evidence and summarize what I think it points to,” he answered. “Some of it probably doesn’t mean a thing. Like Mrs. Alexander using the exact same cleaning products that were used to scrub down the cabins in the woods.”

Big Plans

“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. Do you have special plans for the children?” Dr. Salinger asked Gee as they sat together in the cafeteria. Gee had begun to evolve a routine in which he left the children alone for a while and then returned. Of course, Ellie or Julia remained nearby but interactions with the nurses were still reserved. When Gee left the room, the children tended to sit quietly.

“I scarcely have a plan when I walk into the room, let alone a day ahead,” Gee chuckled. “Any suggestions?”

“Don’t subject them to a big family gathering with a lot of new people. You didn’t intend that, did you?”

“No, I wouldn’t think of it. But I should check with my fiancée to see if she has a traditional family meal. I haven’t had time to ask,” Gee said.

“Perhaps she would join you here to eat a nice celebratory meal with the children. Not elaborate, but enough to mark it as an occasion,” Salinger suggested.

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll talk to Ellie about getting a special meal sent up. I’m sure Karen would love an intimate family celebration.”

“You’re already considering these children part of your family, aren’t you?” she asked softly. “I can see it in your eyes. I’d caution you against it, but experience tells me that would be a wasted effort.”

“I just want to help them.”

“I’ve been a child psychologist for thirty years, Gee. I’ve met many children I wanted to adopt.”

“I’d like that but Karen and I aren’t even married yet. They need a mother. But Karen has a career and I’ve been asked to become a full-time forester.”

“And you are on call as City Champion,” Salinger added. “I’m not saying you couldn’t adjust your lives to make an adoption successful but adding three special needs children to a new relationship is more stress than any couple needs. And, Gee, what happens the next time an orphan comes to town or the next time you rescue one from the woods? Do you think you could adopt them all?”

Gee shook his head sadly and went back to play with the children.

“Of course I want to have Thanksgiving dinner with the children!” Karen said when they were home in the evening. “How shall we arrange it? I need to go shopping.”

“Ellie is arranging the meal with the cafeteria. They do something special for patients. We’ve adjusted the height of a table for their room and it’s almost comfortable for both the children and adults.”

“As to other Family celebrations,” Karen sighed, “we haven’t had a moment free to talk about such mundane things.”

“Your family is scarcely mundane,” Gee laughed.

“Well, all the drama aside, Ben can’t take another big family gathering. As a dutiful heir, however, I should... we should stop in to see him and pay our respects. Leah, of course, has invited us to dinner with her family. I understand Levi has consented to return for the holiday since the matter of an heir has been settled. He made it clear before he left for college that he had no interest in anything Family-related.”

“I do like Jude and Laura,” Gee said.

“You like the strangest,” Karen laughed. “The poet and the grave keeper. They were made for each other.” She spent a moment kissing her fiancé as they relaxed before bed, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace. “All the other Families have issued an invitation for us to join them at some point during the day. You don’t want to accept all those, do you?”

“No one will be offended if we don’t, will they? I’d rather not spend the day doing politics. I need some time to walk in the Forest and the Wild Woods. Not for work, but...”