Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1) (23 page)

BOOK: Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1)
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CHAPTER 42

 

 

Every mayor and township commissioner responded to Simon’s call and assembled in the Columbia City town hall.  Dana stood in the back of the room observing the commotion.

Mayor Shanna Brice from Columbia City was the most vocal.  “What do you mean?  How can we declare war on our own country?  This is ludicrous.  Governor Talbot can’t get away with this.  This is outrageous.”  Her face grew redder with each word until it was almost the same shade as her bright red blazer, which gave her quite the patriotic appearance with her white hair and blue slacks.

Dana wondered what word ending in ‘ous’ she’d inject into her rhetoric next.

Dana’s eyes wandered to her husband, who stood at the podium, somber and calm.  Her heart fluttered when their eyes met and a happy smile curled on her lips.  Her shoulder still throbbed from her gunshot wound, but she wasn’t about to dull her senses with pain killers.

Simon’s eyes warmed as he looked at her.  She could tell he battled to maintain his stony expression while Mayor Brice spoke.

The mayor’s voice continued to increase in volume and passion. “How on earth does Talbot think we can survive surrounded by states loyal to the administration?  It would set us up for a blockade or siege.  It is audacious!”

The room erupted in another chorus of murmurs.

Simon pressed his palms to the air in front of him calling for quiet. “I appreciate your concerns Mayor Brice.  First of all, Governor Talbot alone cannot call for secession.  Both houses of the state legislature would have to vote for such action.  Second, secession does not mean we’d be declaring war on the United States.  The governor has requested that the counties ready a militia for our defense should the government attack us.  And third, I’ve been told that at least twenty-three other states are considering similar actions.”

Mayor Brice bristled and took a step back.  Her shrill voice made Simon clench his jaw.  “Which other states?”

Simon ignored her question.  His steady tone calmed the room.  “I want to emphasize that no vote has been taken in any state.  The formation of the militia is a contingency only.  What we are asking all of you to do is inquire of your constituents for a list of those willing to join the militia.  Can I see a show of hands of those willing to assist in this effort?”

Dana was relieved to see most of the hands in the room raised to the affirmative.

The tension eased from Simon’s face. “And those unwilling to assist?”

A smattering of hands timidly rose, except for Mayor Brice who shot her hand defiantly into the air.

Simon jotted down the names of those unwilling to help.

Mayor Brice’s voice shrieked above the din of the room. “Why are you writing down our names?  Are we going to be targeted by some secret government agency?  I demand to know why you are recording our names?”

Simon sighed. “Madam Mayor, I am merely recording the townships and cities where the Sheriff’s department will need to recruit because you have elected not to help.  The constitution affords us the right to form a militia and a regiment will be formed from Whitely County, with or without your help.  This does not mean we are going into battle.  It means we are organizing a force to defend ourselves should the need arise.”

Mayor Brice stumbled over her words, an experience obviously foreign to her.  When she gathered her composure, her resolve was clear, “I misunderstood.  I thought the decision had been made.  In that light I will be delighted to talk to my constituents to help organize a state militia,” her voice grew stronger and took on a campaign rally edge, “Those with me? Say aye.”

The room erupted in a thunderous “Aye.”

Brice continued, “Any opposed say nay.”  The room fell silent.  Mayor Brice turned to Simon, “Sheriff, you shall have a regiment of the finest militia in the state if not the nation!”

Simon smiled at Mayor Brice, “Thank you, Madam Mayor.  I’m sure that will be true, and your assistance will be invaluable.”

Mayor Brice tugged her jacket smooth, squared her shoulders and nodded to Simon.  “Sheriff, I have just one more question.  How will we be protected here at home if you do get called upon to fight?”

Simon held out his hand towards Dana and flicked his fingers summoning her to him, “I’m glad you asked that, Mayor.  Most of you know Deputy Donovan, who rode with me for three years and has been integral in the solution of many of the problems we have faced since the pandemic.  She has been primed as no other to step in and serve as interim Sheriff in my absence.  As an added credit to her character, last weekend she took on the supreme challenge of becoming my wife.”

As Dana made her way to Simon’s side, the room erupted in the applause of a standing ovation.  Simon motioned to the microphone for Dana to say a few words.  She gripped the podium so hard her knuckles turned white, “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to assure you that I have no desire to assume the duties of the Sheriff.  I want my husband to stay right here with me.  But I also want to assure you that should the state require the defense of the militia, the leadership of our regiment would be in the best possible hands.”

She waited for another round of applause to die down.  “And I further want to assure you that the quality of service from the Sheriff’s department will continue with the same level of excellence you’ve come to expect from Sheriff Ellis.”

Dana stepped back from the podium as applause thundered in the room.  Simon took her left hand and raised it high, showing the county leaders their bond of unity.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 43

 

 

Maisy rolled out a ball of pie dough the size of a baseball.  She fussed at Lista who stood watching her. “You can help by keeping an eye on those two kids.  Read a book to them; get them busy drawing pictures or doing their homework.  I have a system.  It might not be as nice a celebration as you can prepare, but there will be plenty of food and I wager there won’t be too many complaints about the flavor either.”

“I know it will be wonderful.  It’s just so hard for me to sit still knowing how hard you’re working out here.”  Lista tried to stifle a yawn.

Maisy waved her rolling pin as she spoke. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.  You’re exhausted.  Go to the living room and relax or go lie down and take a nap.  Those are your choices, young lady.”

Lista nodded as she yawned again and reluctantly agreed.  She walked back down the hallway, passed the dining room and turned the corner into the living room.  She paused at the edge of the sofa to watch Tharon and Helm sitting next to each other on the window seat.  Helm read to her as she drew on a spiral bound sketchpad.

Helm paused mid-sentence and craned his neck to see the sketchpad in Tharon’s hands.  “What are you drawing?”

A mischievous grin lit her face as she scooted to the other side of the window seat and sat facing Helm, hiding the drawing from him.  “It’s a picture of you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Let me see.”

Tharon giggled. “No.  Keep reading.  The story is getting good.”

“Where was I?” He grinned and reopened the book.

“The witch raised her wand,” she said without looking up from her tablet.

Helm feigned a straight face. “Right.
The witch raised her wand and waved it over her head.  When she pointed it at the handsome prince she said, hit the road, now you’re a toad—

“It does not say that!” Tharon giggled even harder.

“Sure it does, right here.” He pointed at the page but held the book so she couldn’t see it.

“No it doesn’t, let me see it.” She wiped a tear from her eye from laughing so hard.

He grinned at her. “You show me the picture first and then I’ll show you the book.”

She looked down at the drawing and the smile left her face. “It’s not a picture of you.” She turned the notebook so he could see it.

The smile left Helm’s face too.  “That’s Marty.  I didn’t know you could draw so good.  It looks just like him.  Is that mark where you cut him?”

Tharon nodded and handed the notebook to Helm.  She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.  “Yeah.  Even though I didn’t mean to, he’s going to come after me someday.”  She shuddered. “He told me he’s going to kill me.”

Helm laid the notebook on the bench and scooted close to her side.  He put his arm around her shoulders. “I won’t ever let him hurt you, I promise.”

Lista walked to the window seat and picked up the drawing.  She studied it and felt the skin at her temples tighten as she recognized the face her daughter had drawn.  “Helm’s right, Sweetheart, we won’t let him hurt you.  I promise, too.”

She tore the picture from the notepad, folded it and stuffed it into the pocket of her bulky sweater. “I think I want you two to play either on the floor or over on the sofa.  I’d rather you stay away from the windows.”

Lista moved mechanically to her chair by the fireplace.  On the stand next to her chair, she saw the card Max had given her the day the children were taken.  She picked it up and tapped the edge of it thoughtfully before stuffing it into her pocket as well.  She wondered if she dared to tell Max, or Dana, or anyone, who Marty was and ultimately decided that she needed to discuss it with Tom before she did anything.  But Tom had so much going on now.  Should she burden him with it when he needed to focus on the militia?

He was hunting turkey for their Thanksgiving dinner.  She decided if he got home early enough, she’d talk with him before he left for the militia meeting.  If not, it was up to her to keep them safe until he returned.

She locked the front door and checked all the windows in the front of the house to make sure they were secure.  In the kitchen she locked the back door and the windows and paused long enough to search outside for trespassers.

Maisy watched her with a puzzled look. “What on earth are you up to girl?”

Lista pulled the drawing out of her pocket and showed it to Maisy. “This is the man who attacked Tharon.  He swore to kill Tharon someday.  Do you realize who that is?”

As Maisy studied the picture, Lista retrieved a key from the spice cupboard.

Maisy’s mouth went dry, in a hoarse voice she said, “I thought he took off for South America.  I thought...”

Lista’s voice was hard and resigned.  “We all thought we were safe.  We were wrong.”  She unlocked the closet under the stairs where Tom kept his weapons.  For the first time in their marriage she was glad he was such an avid collector of guns, knives, arrows and bows.  She was also grateful he’d insisted she and Maisy learned how to shoot.

She selected two revolvers, loaded them, and stuffed one into her sweater, which bulged and hung significantly lower on that side.  She presented the other one to Maisy.

Maisy quickly wiped her hands on her apron, checked to make certain the safety was on and hid it behind the flour canister.  Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at Lista.  “I honestly thought we’d be safe here.”

Lista hugged Maisy. “It’s been a fabulous home.  I’m grateful that you shared it with us.  I’ve grown to love the land and the people here.  If we have to leave, I’ll be heartbroken.”

 

 

Tharon and Helm listened from the hallway.  He took Tharon’s hand and led her back to the living room.  “I hope you don’t move away.”

She looked up at his face and her bottom lip quivered; tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her face.  The lump in her throat kept her from speaking.  The thought of leaving her home, of leaving Kaid, of leaving Helm—was more than she could bear and worse than anything they went through a little over a week ago.

Helm wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed her lightly on the forehead.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure you won’t have to move.  Everything will be okay.”  He held her hand as they sat down next to each other on the sofa.

After a few quiet moments he tried to lighten her mood. “So what’s the plan for Operation Secret Santa this year?”

Helm kept her talking in hushed tones about the elderly Culpepper Sisters.  She’d overheard them lament about not being able to purchase materials to make gifts like they have in the past.  Gifting to them seemed a perfect way to help many people indirectly.  She chatted until fatigue overcame her.

Helm put his arm around Tharon’s shoulder and pulled her close.  She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the steady drumming of his heart and once more felt safe in his steady strength.

She was only twelve years old, but in just a little over a week, her whole world turned upside down.  The only thing she knew for certain was she couldn’t lose the friendships she’d found again with Helm and Kaid.

She and Helm curled up on the sofa together and fell asleep in each other’s arms as the early afternoon rays warmed them from the windows next to the fireplace.

 

 

Lista returned to the living room and when she saw her daughter asleep in Helm’s arms, she realized running was not an option.  Even if they ran, the Hamrons no doubt had operatives throughout every state.  She couldn’t uproot Tharon.  She couldn’t take her from the friends she’d made.  She couldn’t let her become a victim of fear.  Her courage and kind heart deserved at least some semblance of a normal life for as long as they could give it to her.

No more running.  It was time to stand and fight.

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