If Onions Could Spring Leeks (22 page)

We had two—courthouses, that is. One that was built back in our violent Old West days and where we now performed courtroom skits like the one featuring the trial of Sally Swarthmore. The other one was built in the 1970s and was where we conducted our present-day legal business. It was also where all the town's records were stored. Additionally, sometime in the 1980s, it had become the storage facility for the
entire
county's government records. Even a country county in Missouri could produce large amounts of government paperwork. The courthouse wasn't large; it was made up of two cramped stories. The bottom level housed our small courtroom on one side and our DMV on the other side. If someone in Broken Rope wanted to obtain a driver's license or renew their current license or had other legal motor vehicle issues, this is where they went. There were days when the line stretched out the front door and halfway down the block,
almost to the other courthouse. In fact, sometimes people made the choice to drive to either Springfield or St. Louis just to avoid the wait.

Today, there was no line—no one even standing at the help desk. I didn't know the person sitting there waiting to assist customers, and they didn't look up from the book they were reading as I sped past them and then took the stairs, two at a time, up to the second floor.

The second floor was where the good stuff was anyway. It was divided into four different rooms, each of which held their own varieties of files and paperwork. This place was packed with papers that had, for one reason or another, needed or been the result of legal attention or intervention. Jake loved it here, but he was also intimidated. He'd mentioned once or twice that he didn't understand Danni Heather's filing system and he didn't like to rely on anyone to help him find anything. And she'd never let him run free through
her
files without supervision.

Danni did her have own filing methods. Of course, the stories of her ability to pinpoint that one piece of paper in what sometimes looked like a gigantic, disorganized mess were legendary. I didn't point out to Jake that he had his own methods, too, and though he wasn't messy, he could be just as mysterious.

Danni Heather was a fireball; an odd, old, wrinkled fireball who happened to be one of Gram's biggest fans. I didn't understand their friendship because Gram never seemed all that excited at the prospect of a dinner with the ever-energetic Danni, but they always had a great time together. Danni loved Gram's food, all of it. I'd watched her eat three helpings and not only remain skinny but look around for more. And Gram
would smile and laugh at Danni's jokes and observations about the old legal documents she found and thought were humorous.

Danni had a few part-time employees working for her, but most of the time it was just Danni and her papers. As I stepped onto the landing of the second floor, I saw her carrying a box toward the back room. As she leaned the box against the wall so she could free a hand to open the door, I took off toward her.

“Danni, hang on. Let me help.”

She turned and peered at me through the top of her bifocals. Her short, gray hair was a complete mess, but that was probably because she never brushed it.

“Betts, hi. You have good timing.” She pulled the box back and waited until I got the door open.

“Can I carry that in for you?”

“What? Why would you do that? I'm perfectly capable.”

“I know. Just asking.”

“I'm fine, but thanks for the door,” she said as she heaved the box up to the counter inside the room. She turned and faced me and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Do you need something?”

“I do,” I said, knowing the direct approach was always the best with Danni. “I was wondering about lawsuits against the city, or township, or whatever. Do you have those sorts of records?”

“Of course. What are you looking for?”

“When Lynn Rowlett was young, she was knocked over by a performance horse. She actually ended up saving others from getting hurt, but I think she was hurt. I was curious if she sued anyone and if she won.”

“Well,” Danni said as she pushed up the glasses and put
her hands on her hips. “I might have those types of records, Betts, but some of them are closed, particularly if cases were settled.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Now, I'm not saying that.”

Danni walked past me and back out the door and toward the hallway. I didn't see any other option but to follow her.

“Can you look?” I said.

“Where is it you think I'm going?” she said over her shoulder.

“Oh. Good. Thank you.”

“No promises. I might not be able to find what you need.”

I squelched a laugh. “Okay.”

We went to the front west-side room. It was warmer than the rest of the building. Stuffy, even. I didn't know where Danni spent most of her time, but I thought it probably wasn't in this room. It wasn't a big space, maybe only about ten by fifteen feet with windows that were shut tight and covered in closed blinds.

“Stay on this side,” Danni said to me before she walked around the partial front counter and toward some file drawers. She didn't hesitate a second before she pulled open the second drawer on the first cabinet and reached inside. She read something from a file and then put it back before making her way back to the counter.

“Well?” I said.

“All I can tell you is that there is a filed lawsuit on the records that is titled Lynn Stevens v. the township of Broken Rope, Missouri. Stevens is Lynn's maiden name.”

“And?”

“That's all I've got.”

“I can't see the details?”

“No, I don't have them.”

I looked around her toward the file cabinet. “What was in the file?”

“Something that told me very specifically that I can't tell you any more.”

“So a settlement was reached?”

Danni shrugged and made a small
hmm
noise.

“If I promise you that Gram will make you dinner in the next two weeks, could I convince you to tell me more?” It was low, I knew, but at that point I didn't care.

“What kind of dinner?”

“What's your favorite?” Gram was not going to be happy, but I'd help her.

“Something with beef and mashed potatoes, and her green bean casserole, of course.”

“Consider it done.”

“Well, I cannot tell you the details, but the file and the settlement . . . oops, I mean the
file
was sealed. That happens sometimes when settlements are reached, but I'm not saying that's what happened.”

I leaned a little closer to her. “Was it big?” I whispered. When she didn't answer, I added, “Apple crisp for dessert.” I
knew
it was her favorite.

She looked at me with wide expectant eyes behind her bifocals, but then she squinted. She didn't like being manipulated, but I smiled innocently and waited.

It worked. “It was huge,” she whispered before she pushed past me again, this time with a slight shove thrown in, and then headed toward the door. She stood in the doorway, waiting for me to leave the room, too. She wasn't going
to risk tempting me to look at the records on my own. Smart move.

“Thanks, Danni,” I said as I passed by her. I hurried out of the building and then back to the police station.

•   •   •

And no one was there. Well, one person was there but he wasn't a police officer. In fact, I hadn't even met him yet. He introduced himself as Frank Stanley and he was from Chicago. He'd moved to Broken Rope and was planning on becoming a police officer, but he wasn't one yet. The only people I wanted to talk to at the moment were Jim and Cliff, but Frank wasn't sure where they'd gone.

I stepped outside the police station and called Cliff's mobile. I checked the area for curious listeners, but no one seemed to care what I was doing or saying, so I left a simple message saying that Lynn does or did have money and it came from a lawsuit settlement from when she was younger. Who knows where she put it.

After I ended the call, I tried to bring the pieces together in my head, but they weren't fitting. I didn't understand the specifics, but, of course, I was aware that people could hide their money in offshore or overseas accounts. If I'd stayed in law school I might have learned how to do such things. As it was I really had no idea how to even begin. But there was money there somewhere, and the fact that it existed seemed to make a few things clear—okay, maybe not clear, but probable.

Lynn or Derek, using Lynn's money, paid five women to marry Derek. I couldn't quite pinpoint the exact reason but it undoubtedly had something to do with bribing them to be with
Derek. Had I really been so close to the truth during my last conversation with Ridley? Had it been about a child? Had five women attempted to have a child with Derek Rowlett?

Why? Money?

I looked up and down Main Street. Jake's building was clear, which meant he wasn't performing. If he had been, the crowd would have been so big that some people would be watching from the open doorway—they always did. He was available, at least short term.

I stuck my head back into the real police station and asked Frank if he would tell Cliff to come find me at Jake's. He didn't ask who Jake was, but he seemed to get the idea.

I trotted across the street and peered into Jake's, only to find it empty except for the stick pony, Patches. I was always surprised that no one stole the prop that had been part of Jake's act for years. I knocked on the door that led to the archive room and opened it a little bit.

“Jake,” I said as I went through and then shut the door behind me.

He was standing on the other side of the room, looking at something on the table that was apparently much more interesting than me.

“What do you have?” I said as I joined him and looked at the items, too.

I'd seen them before. They were the historical items that Jake had gathered on Jerome, but he'd added one thing. On his paranormal camera that seemed to have worked only one time, he filmed Jerome and I together in the middle of a kiss. He'd taken that film and made a still of that moment in time. I reached for the picture.

“When did you add this?” I said.

Jake looked up at me with his handsome face and bright blue eyes and said, “Hello, Isabelle.”

I put the picture down. “Jerome? You're . . . you're in Jake?”

“For the moment.”

“Oh, wow, he's going to flip when I tell him about this. Don't kiss me, though. We'd never be able to get past that one.”

He laughed and smiled—it was Jake's face, but unquestionably Jerome's smile.

“All right, I'll try to contain myself,” he said.

“What are you doing here—in Jake?”

“I'm not sure. It's just where I needed to be. I thought as long as I was here, I'd take a look at Jake's papers again. I wasn't the bad guy they made me out to be, you know.”

“I know that. I've known that since your first visit.”

“Good,” he said.

“What's with all the strange possession stuff? It's new, that's for sure.”

“I know, and I don't understand it at all, except I know that things are off-kilter over in the place I am when I'm not here, and I know that whatever caused them to be off-kilter occurred over by the barn where those wagon contraptions are located.”

“You saw those?”

“I did, and I was going to get Jake to walk us over there now so we could have another look. In fact, seeing through his eyes might be the most intelligent view I've had. Jake knows Broken Rope.”

“Do you think the thing that happened to put everything off-kilter happened recently or is it something from the past?” I said.

“I don't know, Isabelle.”

I smiled at hearing Jake's voice say my name the way Jerome always did.

“Will Jake remember this? I mean it didn't seem like Paul remembered his possession very clearly and Elvis was a ghost so he doesn't matter. I have no idea what Reginald thought.”

He laughed. “I don't have any idea, but if I can control it, do you want me to make sure he remembers or doesn't?”

“Remembers.”

“I'll certainly try.”

“Thanks. Let's take a walk.”

I put a sign on the front of Jake's door announcing that his next show was canceled. Though that would not go over well with the tourists, a note was better than just not showing up. As we made our way down the boardwalk, I was surprised that we didn't see anyone who wanted to chat with us. It would have been interesting to see how Jerome handled such a meeting, but it was better not to have to worry about it.

I'd gone to find Jake to tell him what Danni Heather had told me and how there was now money somewhere. I couldn't have the same conversation with Jerome.

Surprisingly, the barn doors were locked. I tried the lock and the doors a few times just to be sure.