Red Tape (18 page)

“I like the idea. I’ll just run it past your father to make sure.”

“Do you mind if I stay here for the night? I have to be at work byfive tomorrow morning for the election and if I stay here, I won’t have to leave the house before four a.m.”

“That’s fine. Mandy is just fine staying here.”

“Feel free to move in tomorrow when I’m at work if Dad’s fine with it. I won’t get home until close to ten. I can’t leave until the polls close, the results are tallied, and I take the hand-written ballots back to the county.”

“We’ll probably see you tomorrow,” my mom said.

Chapter 22

At four o’clock in the morning, I jumped into the shower. It was so nice to be in my own shower, in my own home. I missed my little peanut, though. It was going to be a rough day. I drove over to the church in Madisen first to put out signs and see how the poll workers were making out. Bonnie would always say that our workers were so old that their spouses were already collecting survivors’ benefits. It was only five o’clock and they were already setting up. They might have been ancient, but they were incredibly reliable. I reminded them to start up the machines and open the doors to the public promptly at six.

I then headed over to the all-purpose room to man the phones. The main calls were people wanting to know how to get to the emergency poll location and when people would be allowed on the island again.

Bonnie arrived to help me at nine in the morning. I ran out at ten to buy donuts and coffee for the poll workers. When I arrived at the polls, I noticed that a reporter from the
Lagoon Tribune
was doing exit polling. Out of curiosity, I asked her what the polls were predicting. She said it was a close race, to my dismay. I dropped off the donuts and coffee and took a long lunch to reenergize myself. I headed back to my makeshift office around two o’clock so that Bonnie could take a breather as well.

When Bonnie returned, I headed back out to the church. The poll workers reported it was slow all day. I hoped the polls would pick up during the evening hours, when the nine-to-fivers were on their way home from work.

As the close of polls neared, I found myself biting my nails. I was a nervous wreck waiting for the results. I wanted to be rid of Frita O’Donnell as soon as possible, and not having to work with her was a start. There was no date selected for her trial yet and I didn’t want to wait for a trial and sentencing for her to be out of my life for good.

The fax machine rang at eight thirty and I got a taste of the preliminary results. The write-in and early voting ballots were tallied with Frita winning by only ten votes.

“Nuts!” I said.

“What? What’s the matter?” Bonnie asked.

“I have the county’s tallies and they are showing Frita winning by ten votes.”

“That doesn’t mean she won.”

“It’s usually a good indication of the winner,” I told Bonnie. It was the truth. In every election I had worked, the write-in results mirrored the machine results. The winner of the write-ins was always the winner.

I was on the edge of my seat waiting for Rose and Giuseppe to come to my office with the machine votes.

“I predict Rose will be here by eight forty-seven,” Bonnie said.

“I’ll take Giuseppe by eight forty-two,” I said.

It was a little game we decided to play to pass the time—predicting who would be the first poll worker to bring us results and what time. I was the closest; Giuseppe arrived at eight forty-five. We had a system where I checked in the poll supplies to make sure everything was signed properly, the machine keys were returned, the machine cartridges were sealed, and the written ballots were properly handled. Bonnie took the result print outs from each machine and entered them into a spreadsheet so that we had a final tally.

When Bonnie finished the tally, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting any longer!” I said impatiently.

“New guy won,” Bonnie announced.

“Are you messing with me?”

“Nope, new guy won by a little under a hundred votes.”

I did a little victory dance and Bonnie laughed. As of January 1
st
, whether or not Frita was put away for her crimes, she would no longer be my boss! I couldn’t have felt more overjoyed at the moment.

We finished up our work for the evening, and I drove to the county to deliver the written votes. I arrived at home to see my parents’ car in the driveway. I smiled; I was glad they decided to stay with me and I couldn’t wait to see my precious baby girl.

I went inside and told my parents the good news about Frita not winning, then I crept into Mandy’s room to sleep next to her. She looked like a peaceful little angel in her crib. I drifted off to sleep, listening to the sounds of her breathing.

* * *

The day after the election, Frita showed up in the Madisen Township all-purpose room where I was working. I picked up my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. She was screaming, “You rigged the election, you little rat! I am going to kill you!”

I backed away from her, but she kept coming at me, yelling and carrying on like a lunatic. I grabbed my purse, reached in, and pulled out the pepper spray Bonnie had given me. I depressed the pump and shot her in the eyes with the spray. Sh
e shrieked and rubbed her eyes. “You witch!” she hollered. Within minutes, Madisen Township police officers showed up. I handed them a copy of my restraining order, which I always carried with me, and they placed her under arrest for violating the order.

The officers dragged her out in handcuffs as she kept yelling, “I’m going to call the attorney general; you rigged the election. I’m going to get you, Chelsey Alton!”

I thought,
Be my guest!
I yelled back at her as they dragged her out the door, “There is no way I could have rigged that election and if you have to tell yourself that in order to accept your fate, then so be it.” That was a woman who was in total denial.

Madisen’s clerk came into the room. “I’m just checking to see if everyone’s okay,” Kathy said.

“We’re fine now, thanks! You probably aren’t going to ever invite us back with all the drama we brought today,” I said to her.

“Are you kidding? This was the highlight of my week! Nothing ever goes on here. I was excited for a change!” she said.

We all laughed.

“You’re definitely working the council meeting tomorrow for me, right?” I asked Bonnie.

“I will, but I’d much rather see you have to work the meeting, so I can watch you pepper spray that bitch again!”

I was relieved that Bonnie would handle the meeting for me. I didn’t know how that would work out anyway if I was supposed to work the meeting. I’m sure Colby would have directed me to stay away from the meeting, given the circumstances and the restraining order.

I asked Bonnie to text me after the meeting to see how it went. The resolution to officially reappoint Bonnie as the deputy town clerk was on the agenda and I was eager to know if it passed without issues. She later told me it did.

* * *

The remainder of November and most of December were dedicated to cleaning up the municipal complex and putting the office back together. Rodney hired a contractor to drain the flood waters from the basement of the municipal building, gut it, and handle mold remediation. The ground floor offices were in decent condition and didn’t need much work. Replacement windows were installed in one afternoon.

Bonnie and I spent a lot of time taking in donations, coordinating volunteers and helping those in need get back on their feet. The range of support and donations we received to give out to the community was astonishing.

Even though we were all working hard, Sunshine wouldn’t be completely back to normal for a long, long time. Streets were littered with drenched carpeting, rotting drywall, mold-infested furniture, and inoperable major appliances. Garbage haulers were working overtime in an attempt to clear all the debris. Utility companies were providing around the clock teams to restore power to the community. Crews were removing fallen trees and limbs for weeks. The public works department was desperately trying to rebuild dunes that had washed away in the storm in an effort to protect the town from any winter storms that might have been on the horizon. Most residents were unable to inhabit their homes and the majority of those who worked in Sunshine lost their livelihood.

The large dunes near the municipal complex protected the buildings in the complex and I knew I was lucky to have a home and a paycheck coming in. I actually felt sorry for Mr. Triggers. He had lost everything, which was his greatest fear. It was like he had a sixth sense about something like this happening and it made him extremely passionate about trying to save his home in advance.

By Thanksgiving, not too many Sunshine residents had a lot to be thankful for. Rebuilding had begun for only half of the homeowners and businesses in town. My parents were still living with me and I liked having them around. They had a way of making me feel safe and secure. They loved being around Mandy 24/7 too, but they would have liked to be back in their own home.

A contractor had begun working on their house earlier in the week. He estimated that renovations would be done by Christmas. With my parents around all the time lately, it made me realize I wanted a big family of my own. I was done with my independent phase. I realized that life was too short and could be taken away easily. I wanted to share my life with someone special and have a happy home, much like the home my parents provided me with growing up.

Chapter 23

December
21st. It was supposed to be the end of the world, according to those who believed in the Mayan calendar doomsday predictions. It seemed like the end of the world when Mr. Triggers showed up at the window. Bonnie and I were about to exchange our Christmas presents when he arrived and put a damper on the holiday spirit.

“I want to see the mayor now!” he demanded.

“Perhaps you’d like to wait until after the first of the year when the new mayor takes office,” I suggested.

Mr. Triggers turned around without saying a word and walked away. His face showed no expression.

“That was weird,” I said to Bonnie.

“Sure was,” she said.

We opened our presents. Bonnie had bought me a cashmere sweater, scarf, and hat.

“I wish you wouldn’t spend so much money!” I said to her. “Thank you very much!”

I had bought Bonnie a gift card to Woody’s for dinner. I never knew what to buy for a woman who had it all. Or should I say, had it all before the storm. I didn’t know what she needed, but I thought being able to take a break from renovations and going to dinner would be something she would enjoy.

“I was going to buy you paint so you can change your house color again, but since you need new siding anyway, my idea was a bad one.”

We both laughed.

“Thank you,” she said to me. “This is perfect. I love Woody’s.”

I went to the kitchen and made myself some coffee. After settling in at my desk with my hazelnut decaf and opening up my emails, I heard the unthinkable.
Pop, pop, pop, scream
. I ran to my office door and saw Bonnie lying on the floor covered in blood. She glanced at me, then at the window, and she closed her eyes. I heard the crack of the office door being kicked in, but couldn’t see it from where I was standing. I panicked, but thought enough to run to the back office, where Rodney happened to be and lock the door. He looked at me in horror.

“What is going on?”

I couldn’t speak. All the blood drained out of my face and my hands shook uncontrollably. I picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

Pop, pop, pop.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

More shots rang out; more screams of terror could be heard.

“Someone is shooting, Bonnie was shot, please hurry,” was all that I could manage to say. There was a loud bang, then the door to the back office burst open. We found ourselves staring at Robert Triggers, all decked out in military fatigues, holding a rifle in his hand, and with at least two guns in holsters at his sides. He had shot through the door lock, then kicked in the remaining door. I froze. Rodney gasped.

Triggers’ angry voice boomed.
“Put…the…phone…down!”

I could hear the dispatcher saying, “Are you hurt? Hello? Are you there?”

I slowly placed the receiver back on the hook. I could hear Rodney whisper,
“Please.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was trembling and my heart was pounding so wildly I could feel the pounding in my head.

“Sit!” he demanded.

With his gun aimed directly at me, we both slowly took a seat.

Sirens blared in the distance. Mr. Triggers made his way over to the window to look out, then he closed the blinds.

I was thinking,
Can I run for the door?
Probably not, I was shaking too hard and I didn’t think I’d be able to outrun the gun. Rodney looked like he could faint at any moment. I supposed that no amount of marijuana would make someone feel calm enough to get through this.

Triggers was silent for what seemed to be an eternity. I could hear the commotion outside with police cars, but I couldn’t see what was going on since the blinds were closed. I felt a little relieved that the police were here and that they probably knew Triggers had us, due to my 9-1-1 call, but I still couldn’t help the feeling of dread that poured over me. My mind wandered to my daughter, and how I would soon be dead. How I wouldn’t be able to see her grow up. How she wouldn’t remember me telling her I loved her, how she wouldn’t remember anything about me. How she would have to grow up without a mom.

My poor parents,
I thought. Having their daughter die and having to raise their grandchild. How they would have to explain one day what happened to her mommy. I choked back my sobs.
Don’t cry, Chelsey, don’t cry. He’s more likely to shoot if you cry.

Triggers finally broke his silence. “I want my dunes and you are going to help me get them!” He glared at me. I remained silent. I didn’t know what to say.

“Did...you…hear…me?!”

I whispered, “Yes.”

I wasn’t sure why he still wanted his dunes at this point. His house was gone. But, we were talking about someone with a gun; chances were, he wasn’t thinking clearly.

The phone started to ring. Rodney and I glanced toward the phone, then toward Triggers.

“Don’t answer that.”

We sat silently. Triggers started pacing. The phone continued to ring. He started banging his forehead with the palm of his hand and repeating, “Think, think.”

Rodney said he could answer the phone. Triggers screamed at him, telling him to shut up. The phone stopped ringing.

“You!” he shouted, pointing his finger at me. “You call public works and tell them to make arrangements right now to have dunes installed or else!”

I normally didn’t think very quickly on my feet and maybe it was more of a survival instinct than anything, but I picked up the phone and dialed 555-2400, which was the non-emergency police number. I prayed that Triggers couldn’t hear it when the voice on the other line said, “Sunshine Police, Dispatcher Forty-one.”

“Hi, it’s Chelsey. I need you to make arrangements to install dunes on Fourth Street.”

Detective Texidoro picked up the phone. I almost started to cry again when I heard his voice.

“Chelsey, it’s Tex. Good job. You are going to be fine, just stay calm. Can you tell us who is there with you?”

“Rodney is here and he can approve the purchase order for sand for the dunes. Can you please make the arrangements?”

“Is Robert Triggers there with you?”

I guessed it wasn’t that hard to figure out that Triggers was the nut case that kept asking for the dunes.

“Chelsey, can you tell me how many guns he has?”

“Three truck loads of sand would be good for starters.”

“Three guns? Are they machine guns?

“No.”

“Hand guns or shot guns?”

I could see Triggers, seemingly irate, telling me to wrap it up. “Yes! If you could put a rush on it, that would be good. Thanks, bye.” I quickly hung up the phone.

Unknown to us, there was a huge gathering outside. Flashing lights from emergency vehicles filled the parking lot. Police crime scene tape encircled the building, creating a boundary between law enforcement and curious onlookers. SWAT teams and FBI agents set up an emergency command station at the senior center. Various news vans were arriving. Reporters holding microphones and cameramen with headsets were awaiting information that could be released on air.

My thoughts turned to Bonnie. Was she alive or perhaps badly injured? I pleaded with God to let her live. She had two young children and didn’t deserve to die. Could the EMTs get to her or were they afraid it wasn’t safe for them to enter the building? I kept praying until the phone rang again. Triggers told me to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Chelsey? This is Agent Salvatore Romeo of the FBI. I will be acting as your hostage negotiator. Please see if Mr. Triggers will take the phone.”

I motioned toward Triggers. “They want to talk to you.”

“Tell them I have nothing to talk about.”

I relayed the message.

“Ask him if he has any demands,” Romeo said.

I asked.

Mr. Triggers flipped out. He began screaming and carrying on like a maniac. “Do I have any demands? Do I have any demands?” He grabbed the phone out of my hand and screamed into it, “I want my dunes and get me that wench Frita O’Donnell while you are at it!”

He slammed the receiver down and grabbed the entire phone, violently ripping it out of the wall, then slamming it to the ground. He then jumped on it and kicked it clear across the room.

Rodney and I traded glances. We were both terrified and we sat there silently. I found myself holding my breath from time to time. I was afraid to exhale. Triggers started pacing and smacking his head with his hand again.

“We are going to stay here until I have dunes installed and until Frita O’Donnell shows her ugly face,” Triggers said.

“How will you know when the dunes are installed?” Rodney asked.

“Good point,” Triggers said. He pointed the gun directly into Rodney’s face, aiming it between his eyes. “Is there a TV in here?”

“In my office,” Rodney hesitantly replied.

“Let’s go,” Triggers said, motioning toward the door with the gun.

He marched us at gunpoint out of the back office. When we reached Bonnie’s desk, I saw a large smear of blood on the floor where I last saw her lying. It appeared as if someone had dragged her out. I couldn’t control myself as I let out a whimper.

“Shut the hell up!” Triggers screamed. “I killed her and I’ll kill you too.”

He told us to move into the lobby. The floors and walls were covered in blood. There were three people lying dead. I had never seen anything so gruesome in my life. They didn’t look like any of the employees of Sunshine. I assumed they were residents doing business in the town. It was sickening to know these poor innocent individuals had met their fate as a result of this madman by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I silently wondered if Bonnie made it out, since I didn’t see her body anywhere.

Through the glass doors, I could see a S.W.A.T. team with guns pointed directly into the building. “Hold your fire,” was shouted by someone I couldn’t see.

Triggers grabbed Rodney and used him as a human shield to get through the lobby and down the hallway to Rodney’s office. Inside Rodney’s office, I was instructed to turn on the TV. We were all over the news. The volume on the TV was down, so Triggers instructed me to turn it up.

Video of the municipal building surrounded by law enforcement was streaming. The reporter was saying that police had reported a hostage situation. My Facebook photo flashed across the screen and the fact that I was a confirmed hostage in the situation was announced. I thought that was pretty darn quick that the reporters already got my picture off of Facebook.

“Sit down!” Triggers yelled.

I jumped out of my skin. For a split second when I was watching TV, I had zoned out. I swiftly scrambled into the closest chair. We sat there for a couple of hours without saying anything. Rodney’s phone started to ring. Triggers told me to answer it.

“Town of Sunshine,” I said. It was a force of habit to answer the phones that way. It was someone trying to sell me a copier. I hung the phone up and said, “Sales call.” My thoughts turned toward the phone. I so badly wanted to call my parents and hear my daughter’s babble. I didn’t want to leave this world without telling her I loved her one last time. I wanted my last words on this Earth to be, “I love you, baby girl.” I began to think I had nothing to lose.

“Mr. Triggers, sir. I was wondering if I could call my daughter and say good-bye to her.”

“No,” he said in a booming voice.

“She’s only ten months old and if you’re going to kill me, I would like to say good-bye to her.” A tear fell from my eye.

“A ten-month-old baby?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said softly with my eyes cast downward.

“So that
was
you in the grocery store!” he exclaimed.

Oh lord. I had forgotten I told that lie and as luck would have it, it was coming back to bite me. I wasn’t quite as clever as I had thought.

“Grocery store?” I asked.

“Yes, you’re just another lying bitch!” he yelled.

I panicked, but thought enough to say, “Is that where you had run into my sister? You told me you met my twin sister. Was her daughter with her when you saw her?”

He looked sufficiently befuddled. He sat silently for a little while, staring at me. I was getting jittery. I wasn’t sure if he was buying it.

“Fine,” he said to my surprise. “You have one minute to make your call.”

Oh, thank heavens; he bought it. I picked up the phone and quickly dialed my parents’ number.
Please pick up, please pick up
was going through my head. I finally heard my mother’s voice. “Hello?”

“Mom?” I said in a shaky voice.

“Chelsey, oh my god, I’m watching the news, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

I took a deep breath. “Mom, please go get Mandy. I need to tell her I love her.”

My mother let out a wail and burst into tears. My face was red, trying to hold back my own tears until I was done on the phone.

“Thirty seconds,” Triggers said.