The Minnesota Candidate (13 page)

Chapter 11

The chainsaw was beyond repair. Marie guessed
that she had run it into a steel plate. The engine had seized, the
bar had bent and the chain had disintegrated, barely missing the
two women. Doris and Marie smoked cigarettes as they caught their
breath. “Damn it,” growled Doris, “what the hell do we do,
now?”

Marie eyeballed the situation and shrugged her
beefy shoulders. She puffed on her cigarette. “There has to be
another way in. Have you walked around outside the place?”

“Oh, that bitch has alarms in every door and
window.”

Marie nodded. “And I suppose there is a keypad
for the alarm system?”

“Of course there is. What the hell are you
getting at?”

Marie hooded her eyes and gave Doris a sly
smile. “Maybe we can go in the front door,” she said, checking her
watch. “I have a plan.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that everyone I know with an alarm
system keeps the alarm code written down. We need to get back in
there and find that code.”

Doris grinned. “I never thought of that.”

Marie nodded her head and crushed her smoke
against the wall. “I only wish I had thought of it, earlier. Come
on, girlfriend, let’s get snooping.”

They left the broken chainsaw where it was,
along with the extension cords and the work light and cigarette
butts. Marie led the way, charging up the tunnel like a bull down a
narrow alley. Back inside the house, Doris closed the bookcase.
“Just be sure to put everything back where you found it,” she said.
“I don’t want my Tommy to know.”

“Hey sister, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“I know, I know.”

Marie pointed at the massive bookcases. “Why
don’t you start by leafing through those books? I’m pretty sure she
would keep the codes in there. I know that I would. I’m going to
start in the master bedroom.”

“I don’t care. Just be careful.”

“I’m not an idiot, Doris. I’ve done this a
thousand times and I’ve never been caught.”

Doris started on the middle shelves and she
began popping open books. Some were very old and the bindings
cracked and pages fell out, but Doris stuffed them back into place
and she continued searching. Every now and again, Marie would
emerge from Tom and Shari’s room with something of interest, but
mostly with Shari’s underwear and lingerie. “I remember being this
skinny,” she said, which Doris knew was a lie. “I wonder what Clyde
Bauer would do if I showed up at his door wearing this?”

“He’d probably run.”

“That’s not funny, Doris.”

Half an hour later, Marie screamed with joy at
her discovery of a ring of keys. Several of the keys appeared to be
very old and both women were certain that they were for the big
house. Reenergized, they continued searching, but by noon they were
both tired and hungry. They ate leftover chicken and decided to
catch a quick nap. Nearly two hours later, Marie was shaking Doris
by the shoulder. “I think I found it!” she shouted.

Doris, still groggy, had experienced several
nightmares with Marie standing over her. She gasped, but she
quickly caught herself. “You found the codes?”

Marie nodded and jingled the keys in the air. In
her other hand was a small leather book. “I found this stuffed
under the mattress. The codes are written down in here, in her
diary. When you have some time, you’ve got some reading
material.”

Doris practically leapt out of bed. She followed
Marie and the two women stampeded out of the house. Halfway across
the lawn, they stopped to catch their breath. Doris offered Marie a
cigarette and they both smoked. And that’s what saved them from
being caught in the act.

Shari’s car suddenly appeared in the driveway,
followed closely by Tom’s SUV. Shari sped by the women without
giving them a second glance, but Tom stopped and got out of the
black Mercedes. “Aunt Marie,” he said, “this is an unexpected
pleasure.”

Marie had already stuffed the diary and the keys
in her pockets. “Fat Tommy,” she said, “have you been putting on
weight?”

“Can’t you ever say anything nice to people?”
asked Doris.

Marie laughed at that. “Oh, like you should
talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tom shook his head and climbed back into the
SUV. He drove away and left the two women to their argument. He
didn’t have the energy to listen. Tom parked in the garage next to
Shari’s car and closed the overhead door. He was thankful that his
mom had company. Tom didn’t want to explain anything to his mom,
not yet, not ever. Somehow, Tom was sure that she would try to top
him, or worse, she would spin it around and make it about her. He
walked into the house.

“That was close,” whispered Doris.

“You got that right, sister. What do we do
now?”

“Damn it, I was really hoping to get in there.
You’re going to have to spend the night. We’ll have to wait until
morning.”

“I dunno,” said Marie. “What if they find out
that the diary and keys are missing?”

“Are you kidding me? They’re newlyweds, for
crying out loud. I’ll bet they’re in bed, already.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Didn’t you say
that Shifty Sam was staying here? I’ve never told you this, but I
think he’s just dreamy. Who knows, maybe I can get lucky?”

“Are you crazy? The man is a walking disease
factory. Hello, he’s only spent most of the past thirty years in
prison. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole.”

Marie shot Doris a grumpy look and then she
crossed her flabby arms. “What the heck are we supposed to do?”

Doris lifted her chin into the air. “It has to
be after five O’clock somewhere, right?”

Marie smacked her lips together. “Now you’re
talking. Lead me to the bar.”

Doris had been right about one thing; Tom and
Shari were up in their bed. Shari had her head buried into the
pillows and Tom sat next to her and stroked her back as she wept.
She had finally gotten through to the brokerage and they had told
her that Rick Wellman had committed suicide. They also confirmed
her worst fears. Shari’s entire portfolio consisted of twenty
thousand shares of Burghoffer Biotech. At the time of the call, the
shares were said to be worth a penny apiece.

Tom did his best to console his new wife, but
Shari continued to sob into her pillows. He reasoned that the
property was easily worth well into seven figures, and that they
still had their health. Things could be a lot worse. He would take
the first job that came along. They could sell their cars. They
could move in with his mother.

Shari turned on him as if she had been
electrocuted. “We are not moving in with your mother!” she cried,
pushing his hands away from her. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It was only a suggestion. She does have plenty
of room.”

“I’d rather share Sam’s bridge!”

“Well, he seems to like it,” said Tom. Sam had
told Tom on the way to work that he couldn’t stay with them any
longer. He said that he enjoyed his freedom, but Tom suspected that
it had something to do with his mother.

“Tom, you don’t get it. We’re ruined. Please,
stop making jokes about it.”

“We’re not ruined, Shari. I don’t care about the
money. I don’t care about the cars. And I certainly don’t give a
rip about the status. I love you. Don’t you see? We’re rich in a
way that can never be taken away from us. That’s all that
matters.”

Shari wiped the tears from her eyes and put her
hands on his shoulders. “Oh Tom, do you really mean that?”

“You know that I do.”

Shari pulled him close and the two of them fell
down onto the bed. They didn’t get out of bed until three hours
later. Shari wanted to catch the national news and Tom’s stomach
was grumbling. They walked down the stairs and saw Doris and Marie
sitting on the patio. Three wine bottles sat on the table between
them and both women were smoking. “I’ve met that woman before,”
said Shari. “Who is she?”

“That’s my Aunt Marie. She’s my dad’s
sister.”

“I can see the family resemblance.”

“Dear God, please don’t say that.”

Shari laughed at that and Tom saw it as a good
sign. She walked into the living room and Tom went into the
kitchen. He fixed a plate of tuna fish sandwiches and took it into
the living room. Shari already had the television on. She looked at
the food and shook her head. “Bring me a bottle of wine and a
glass,” she said, “please.”

Tom returned to the kitchen and he grabbed a
bottle of Pinot from the refrigerator. He then grabbed two glasses
and uncorked the bottle. He didn’t want to let his wife drink
alone, not on a day like this. He returned to the living room and
poured them both a glass of the straw-colored liquid. He sat down
next to her and ate sandwiches as the news anchor detailed the
day’s events on Wall Street.

“
Market trading was suspended at two O’clock
this afternoon, after an unprecedented collapse on Wall Street. The
Dow dropped a staggering thirteen thousand points today, assuring
its place in the record books as the worst in history. Brokers
leapt from their office towers as stocks continued their freefall.
President Peabody, speaking from the island of Saint Lucia, called
this a bump in the road and asks Americans to continue on with
their daily lives.”

Shari drained her glass and quickly refilled it.
“I think I’m going to puke,” she said. “Why is he in still in the
Caribbean and not flying back home?”

Tom was chewing his food and all he could do was
shrug his shoulders. He had voted for the other guy. He watched as
Shari emptied another glass of wine. The news only continued to get
worse. There were already several reported cases of shortages as
the price of diesel quadrupled in six hours. The big rigs were
pulling off the road in protest. Banks had closed and workers had
been laid off in droves. Hospitals were filled to capacity with
heart attack and stroke victims. Tom was no economist, but he knew
that what had happened was much more than a bump in the road.

Every channel seemed to be running a special
program on the collapse. Shari channel surfed with Tom sat by her
side, not wanting to watch, but unable to look away. The facts were
mixed with speculation, most of it negative. The Republicans blamed
the crisis on the Democrats, so naturally, the Left blamed the
Right. Ultimately, no one accepted responsibility.

Shari went back to bed at just after 8:00. Tom
had been about to follow her, but his mother had caught him as he
climbed the stairs. “Marie thinks you’re angry with her. I told her
that was silly, but what is she supposed to think? You’ve been
ignoring us all night. Could you at least join us outside for a
glass of wine?”

Tom wasn’t tired, far from it, but he could
think of a thousand other things he would rather do than go outside
and listen to these women gossip. “I kind of have a headache,” he
said, rubbing his temples.

“Welcome to my world. Tough it out, Tommy, this
is your father’s sister.”

Begrudgingly, Tom descended the stairs. His mom
waited for him, grinning, swaying on her feet as if she were
standing on a lobster boat. She gave him a hug. “I’ll have one
glass of wine, Ma. I really don’t feel good. We’ve had a rough
day.”

“You’ve had a rough day? Wait until you’re my
age. Wait until you have only rough days and rougher days and see
how much you like that. You don’t know nothin’; oh, but you will.
Have you been gaining weight?”

Tom pretended not to hear the question and he
refilled his wine glass. They walked out onto the patio. Marie
smiled, drunkenly, and began nodding her head. “So,” she said, “the
big shot has decided to grace us with his presence. We’re so
flattered, aren’t we, Doris?”

Doris was lighting a cigarette and she raised
her glass into the air. “Cheers,” she said.

The night air was warm and perfectly still. A
perfect night to be out on the water, thought Tom, except the bay
was eerily empty. The only sounds came from the crickets and the
bullfrogs. Marie patted the chair next to her. “Come and sit down,”
she said. “I’m not going to bite you. How long has it been?”

Tom sat down and forced a smile onto his face.
These women didn’t like each other, but their worlds were small and
growing smaller every day. They put up with each other because no
one else would. “How have you been, Marie?” he asked.

“I’d complain, but who would listen?”

“You’ve been complaining all day,” said Doris.
“You don’t give a person much choice.”

“Oh, I complain? That’s real funny coming from
you.”

Tom sighed and changed the topic of
conversation. “Have you two been watching the news? The stock
market crashed.”

“Yeah, we heard about it,” said Doris. “What, do
you think we’ve been living under a rock? They interrupted our
programs with that bullshit all afternoon.”

“They sure did,” said Marie, “them
assholes.”

“Well, it’s kind of big news,” continued Tom.
“Something like this has never happened before.”

“Well, we feel real sorry for the bankers, don’t
we, Marie?”

“We sure do,” she said, sipping wine from a
lipstick smeared glass. “Ah, who am I kidding? Those butt-wipes
deserved everything they got. I’m happy they lost all of their
precious money. Now they can see how the rest of us live.”

“You can bet Jay P Rockefeller didn’t lose his
money,” said Doris. “Those guys never lose money. The stock market
is nothing but a rigged game. I hope you and Shari weren’t playing
it.”

“Why don’t you live in that great big house?”
asked Marie. “Your mom tells me that you’ve never been in there.
What’s the story, Fat Tommy?”

Doris wagged her finger at her sister in-law.
“Shari doesn’t like it when we call him that.”

“Well, she can kiss my big fat butt. Besides,
she ain’t out here. I want to know why she doesn’t let anyone in
that big house. That’s pretty weird, if you ask me.”