Word to Death Page 21

  And how did the woman end up in the dumpster?

  I grabbed my keys and headed into the garage. The door lifted open, and I backed out into the street. Immediately, the kid next door pummeled the car with snowballs. I put the car in park, climbed out, snatched up snow, packed it good and hard, then sailed it over to him—hitting him square in his back. Before he had time to retaliate, I jumped into the car and continued on my way.

  Since Lake Nokomis, in South Minneapolis, was where I took swimming lessons as a child, I wanted to take a memory lane drive. I passed over the Hennepin Avenue Bridge and kept going until reaching Washington Avenue. The road turned, but I followed the signs for Cedar Avenue. Upon reaching the Minnehaha Parkway, I followed it until turning toward the little beach. Cars lined the parkway and up into the neighborhood. I ended up parking near an ice cream shop on Twenty-Eighth Avenue. I texted Maggie to find out where she was. She responded that they had just started playing and she’d meet me where we used to hang out. I sent: ok.

  It took a few minutes, but we finally located each other. Fortunately, Aaron’s team had been on the ice for just a few minutes. The temperatures were climbing, and the local thermometer told me we were in a heatwave—it was sixteen degrees, warm for our Januarys.

  “Look at them! How can they move with all that equipment and skate on this ice? It’s rough,” I said. “I’m glad you thought of lawn chairs.”

  “No problem. Now we can try to wrap ourselves up with this blanket. Our guys have enough padding,” Maggie said, watching them skate. “A little wobbly.” She put the blankets across our laps.

  “We’ve got ourselves two jocks.” There was a vendor nearby. “I’m going for hot chocolate,” I said. “Want a cup?”

  “Sure.”

  “Be right back.”

  I purchased two cups of cocoa. We covered ourselves up again and enjoyed watching and cheering.

  “We’ll have to rent a sailboat next summer again, like we did last year. That was a fun day,” I said.

  “Yes, only let’s get a larger one—it makes for a bigger party,” Maggie said.

  “I agree. We only fit four people, and ten is a good number. Maybe we should get a pontoon up north for a weekend?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Maggie said.

  “Hey!” I saw Aaron raise his stick to us. Tim was right beside him and did the same.

  The game ended in a shoot-out with Aaron’s team losing. At the end, we made arrangements through texting to meet them at Matt’s Bar for a Juicy Lucy burger.

  Maggie and I sat opposite in a booth at the bar. Soon the men of the team charged through the doorway. Aaron and Tim were in the lead. Aaron had saved ten goals, and Tim made the only point for the team.

  “Whoo-hoo!” I shouted.

  “Whooey!” Maggie called.

  The other women piped up also. When the burgers arrived, the men joined us.

  “You looked good out there, honey,” I said.

  “Thank you,” Tim replied, winking. “Oops! You meant that ugly guy beside you.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” Maggie said, nudging him.

  “I’m going back to watch the games, but I would guess that you ladies are frozen?” Aaron asked.

  “Cold and kind of a headache,” Maggie said. She rubbed her temples.

  “Frozen solid comes to mind. I’ll just meet you at home,” I said. “You enjoy yourself.”

  Maggie and I stayed for a short while, but when the guys left to watch the games, we left for our cars.

  “Take care of yourself,” I said, giving Maggie a hug.

  “Will do,” she said and climbed into her car.

  I did the same and followed her out into the traffic, but where she turned toward our old school, I kept on the main road. It was always nice to drive past our high school, Theodore Roosevelt, but this time, I drove past the Swedish Institute and thought about how beautiful it was during the holiday season all lit up like a Christmas tree. The reminiscing brought my thoughts full circle. The murder of Blanche and Dr. Williams, and all that Mary Lincoln lived through, was a tragedy. I was happy to reach home. I parked, and went inside. Once the heavy clothing was shed, I started thumbing through recipe books. The garage door reopened, and soon Aaron entered.

  “Honey, how come you didn’t stay?” I asked.

  “I didn’t want you home alone,” Aaron said. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve had enough of worrying. I’m going to look up some recipes.” Maybe researching Mary Lincoln recipes will take my mind off the case for awhile.

  “You? Digging up recipes? What is this world coming to?” Aaron playfully knocked the side of his head. “Tell me it isn’t true? Tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

  “Hush. I’m onto something. Now be nice,” I chided. “I just thought, well, what the heck. I’ll see what I can find.” There was one food site that featured her infamous cake. Mary Lincoln was known to cook like a master chef all day and invite crowds of people over for dinner. She would prepare several different meats, and no one seemed to care about watching calories in those days. Mary baked plenty of cakes and desserts, and for Mister Lincoln’s morning snack, cornbread. While Mary was considered a Southerner, and Abraham, a symbol of the North, both were gracious hosts, and dinner with the Lincoln’s was a coveted invitation.

  “Hmm,” I moaned, a little disgruntled because there wasn’t a particular recipe that struck my fancy. I decided to make a grocery list, adding baking apples for a Civil War recipe called Brown Betty, a forerunner to apple crisp. When the shopping list was completed, I looked over at Aaron. “I think we’ve got it all set and know where to go. We just have to wait until we nab the killer.”

  “We really should stay home and wait for the detectives.”

  “I know. It makes me nervous to wait. I’m going in to the store tomorrow. It’s making me buggy staying home.”

  “Well, we’ll see what we come up with to keep you busy tomorrow.” Aaron reached for my grocery list. “Let’s run to the grocery store to get this stuff. We’ll be back in a flash.”

  “Sure.”

  Upon our return, I put together the ingredients to concoct the Brown Betty. It took time to bake, but it was delicious. We smiled at each other, tiptoeing around the predominant thoughts that circled our minds.

  Eventually Aaron received a message stating Erlandsen and Mergens would soon be dropping by. Just as he clicked out of the message, they appeared at the door.

  “We came up with a usable message to use as a decoy,” Erlandsen said, wiping his feet.

  “You’re going to like it,” Mergens added, doing the same with his shoes. “May we?”

  “Sure.”

  Aaron and I followed them into the kitchen. Erlandsen sat down on the stool in front of the computer and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling Harris so he can give me the directions.”

  I stood directly behind Erlandsen and watched as he followed the directions Harris gave him. After opening the mailbox, he typed in the e-mail addresses for the Presidential Library and the Mary Todd Lincoln House. In the subject line, he entered: Lost Speech location found. The message read:

  Dear All,

  Through plenty of research, I have finally figured out the whereabouts of the Lost Speech that Mr. Lincoln gave in Bloomington, Il, May 29, 1856.

  Isn’t that…

  “What?” I asked when he cocked his head at me.

  “Would you say, marvelous or wonderful? What word would you use?

  “Wonderful.”

  He finished the message by typing in wonderful before he added,

  Will be in touch. “Is your signature saved in here?”

  “Yes, that and my website link are already in place.”

  “Okay.” I watched as he hit send. “Tonight, stay nearby and give us a jingle when he logs on, will you?”

  “Will do,” I answered. “Both you and Harris?”

  “Yes.” The detectives looked at each other
and nodded. “We’ve got our handwriting expert copying the lines from the speech that are known onto a sheet of paper, which he’s prepared to look really old and yellowed. We’ll sneak it into the desk sometime tomorrow, if this guy doesn’t bite tonight.”

  “I really think this message is going to flush him out,” I said. “I’m glad you guys are as confident as I feel.”

  “Let’s see, it’s six now.” Erlandsen rubbed his chin. “We’ll call you about ten to check in.”

  “Is the volume turned up high?” Mergens asked. “It should be loud enough to wake them.”

  “Right.” Erlandsen made certain it was. “All set.”

  With Aaron right beside me, we followed them to the front door where they both said, “We hope this works.”

  If it doesn’t, guess who might be next?

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The remainder of the evening seemed to drag on and on, never ending. Grandpa and Grandma came over for a short while, and we finished the Brown Betty. Grandma even congratulated me on my baking. It was the only high point of the evening.

  Aaron and I camped out in the kitchen in a makeshift recliner we devised by plumping up pillows and spreading blankets across the kitchen chairs. Eventually we managed to become semi-comfortable as we dozed off, each with one eye open to keep tabs on the monitor.

  Just as I started drifting off again, the short song blared and woke us. We jumped up, stumbling over the chairs and knocking one over.

  “I’m calling the station.” Aaron fumbled sleepily with his phone.

  “Give it to me.” I grabbed his phone, found the contact number, and speed-dialed Harris. He answered on the third ring.

  I simply said, “Got it.”

  “Good. Put us on speaker so Aaron can also hear.”

  I hit the speaker button. The computer’s cursor seemed to have its own mind, maneuvering around the screen, reorganizing the messages, making copies and deleting my incoming e-mails. When the hacker logged out, Aaron asked, “Now what?”

  “We wait. The tracer should lead us to him. Hold on,” I said. I could almost hear Harris’s heart beating over the phone as we waited to see if our plan had worked. “Nope, but don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Doggonit! It should’ve worked. This makes me mad!” I said.

  “We’ll get ’em. Usually, these guys aren’t this smart,” Harris said.

  “We’re taking the computer in to the store in the morning. Liv has work to do and it was only Max on Saturday,” Aaron said.

  “I’ll come by later this morning or early this afternoon to work on it. Until then, don’t do anything besides check your usual accounts,” Harris said.

  “We’ll meet at the store,” Liv said, “in the afternoon, since tomorrow is Sunday.”

  Aaron disconnected. “Let’s go back to the real bed before my back breaks. It’s killing me.” I started gathering the pillows and Aaron put the chairs back in place.

  We crawled into bed and somehow managed to get in a few hours of sleep. I felt miserable in the morning with the lack of sleep, but my heart raced, exhilarated and confident the whole, convoluted puzzle would soon be solved. Convincing myself was the hard part.

  Yawning, I crawled from the warm sheets and headed for the shower. The sun bleached through the draperies as I shuffled through the living room into the kitchen. I couldn’t wait for the snow to melt and splash onto our deck. Thoughts of blooming daffodils, tulips, roses, and a flood of colors that would emerge from the plentiful spring rain we’d soon get, made me smile. The end of snow and cold for a few months sounded like heaven.

  Hearing Aaron whistling as he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, I quickly loaded the toaster and poured us each a glass of orange juice.

  “Time to get started. I’m ready to face the day, how about you?”

  “My sergeant called. I have to go in for a suspect interview in a short while. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Shoot.”

  “It won’t take me long, I promise.” He kissed me. “Can’t be helped.”

  “Well, all right,” I said. “The toast is up.” I buttered the slices, handing one to Aaron.

  “Let’s get moving and carry the computer out,” Aaron said. “I’ll take the tower, you carry the monitor.”

  We ate quickly and then tackled our task. Shortly, we had it loaded into the car, and we were on the road.

  As we parked and began carrying our cargo into the store, Max greeted us at the door and held it open for us. It didn’t take long to get the computer connected.

  “I’ll bring you down a coffee before I take off,” Aaron said.

  “Thanks.” Looking at Max, I said, “It’s great to be back. How are you feeling?”

  “Still a little stiff, but not bad.” Max shrugged in his boyish way. “I’m gonna have to run to my sister’s, but then I’ll be back. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. She’s putting up bookshelves and needs help. You won’t be alone for long. I’ll probably beat Aaron back here.”

  “I’ve got plenty to do.”

  “I’d say! You have to solve the puzzle. No one else has a clue as to what’s going on, right?” He grinned. “I won’t be long.”

  “Right.”

  Max had no sooner left when Aaron entered with the full coffee cups. I took mine from him and said, “Thanks.”

  “What? No Max?”

  “Had to run a quick errand.”

  “Busy guy.” Aaron shook his head. “I’ll call if there’s a delay.” He kissed me, and then left. Sipping my coffee, I paced the showroom floor. After double-checking the backdoor lock, I walked to the show room. Staring at the front door, I knew it must be unlocked in order for my store to be open. It had been only a couple days since the store was closed, but it seemed longer. I was pacing—something I hadn’t done since my parents were killed in the car crash when I was a kid. I opened the door front door and flipped the Closed sign to Open. With that step behind me, I felt slightly better.

  Strolling around the houses, I reacquainted myself to the ladies by telling them about the recent happenings. Rearranging furniture in the various dollhouse rooms, and doing a little bit of dusting, kept me busy. The First Lady photos hung crooked, so I adjusted them. The Penny Dolls on the shelf also needed attention. When finished with all that, my attention turned to the Lincoln desk. As I approached it, a surge of cool air come into the room. Isn’t the door locked? I called, “Hello?” My mind is playing tricks. Did I just hear the lock from the backdoor turn?

  I listened intensely. Hearing only silence, I leaned over the desk. The floorboards creaked. My nerves tingled.

  Peering closely under the desk, I carefully ran my fingers over the wood, hoping to find the hidden pocket, and that was precisely the moment when the radio came on.

  “Aaron?” I softly whispered. “Is that you?” My bag with my cell phone was in the workroom. I didn’t know what to do. Should I run for the front door? Where is my hammer? What else can I grab as a weapon? Keeping low, I began inching my way toward the front door.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Hurrying, I tried to make it to the door and out before whoever it was could get to me but was too late.

  “Gotcha.” His whiskers burned against my cheek. The man’s breath felt hot against my face as he pulled me closer.

  I screamed.

  “Not the right thing to do.” One arm held my arm across my chest, pulling me to his while the other poked a pointed object into my lower back.

  “Where’s the speech?”

  “What speech?” Wiggling, I tried to pull away, but he squeezed my arm tighter. “You’re hurting me.” Struggling only made it worse.

  He jabbed the object into my back, and pain shot down my leg. He fastened his grip tighter.

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Yanking my hair, he growled, “Tell me now or you’ll pay dearly.”

  He poked me again. This time I felt blood run
ning down my back.

  “You’re making all this up, aren’t you? You don’t even know where the speech is, do ya?” I shook my head and kicked. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  I wiggled toward the cup of hot coffee, but he realized what I was planning and squeezed me tighter. My neck was bent over his shoulder. I tried to drive my heels into his leg or higher into his abdomen, when the point of the knife dug deeper.

  I screamed from pain. A warm stream of blood trickled down my back. It must’ve scared my attacker because he pulled the knife back, but at same time he tightened his fist around my throat. The last thing I remembered was thinking his shoes looked weird.

  When I awoke in the hospital bed, Aaron was holding my hand. The doctor had come and gone, and I learned that I had been stabbed.

  “Just as I thought,” I whispered. “I’m so tired.”

  “It’s the meds, hon. You’re all taped up. Nothing too bad…you only need to be careful while you are healing. The knife didn’t go too deep, so it missed all vital organs.”

  “That’s a relief.” I tried to sit, but it hurt. “I should’ve been safe. I was so scared when he attacked. He kept asking for the speech.” I glanced at the water pitcher on the bedside table. “I’m thirsty.”

  “Okay.” Aaron filled a glass with fresh water and held it to my lips. “The detectives are right outside, and you need to speak to them whenever you feel you are up to it.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Aaron fluffed my pillows and handed me a mirror so I could rearrange my unruly hair. He also handed me my makeup case he had pulled out of my bag. I applied a coat of lipstick and gave myself a brief touch-up, then handed the items back to him.

  “Ready?” He leaned over and gave me a kiss. “Yep.”

  “You’re a trooper, Liv.”

  The two detectives entered the room. Their expressions were grim, but their demeanor was calm. They were used to this.

  “You ready?” Mergens asked.