"So your client, James Makinen, has been questioned by the police about the recent murders."
Afterwards, Sandra never understood how she had the presence of mind to stop the reporter. She knew she had lost the incentive with the woman. She had to gain it back or both she and her clients would look guilty. She knew that no matter what was said, most court cases were affected by the popular press. But she didn't understand reporters! How could she get control back? She understood lawyers, not the press...
She gazed directly at the reporter and calmly asked, "I would like the name of your station's lawyer and his phone number, please?" She then retrieved her cell phone from her bag and waited for the number.
The reporter hesitated, "I don't know the name."
"Well, then give me your station manager's number and we'll go from
there."
The reporter tried to leave at that point but Sandra followed her. As the reporter and cameraman retreated to their truck, Sandra finally got a number. She then stood in front of the vehicle so it couldn't leave the parking lot. Sandra watched the reporter's face blanch as she calmly dressed down the station manager and requested an immediate response from the station's lawyer.
After her conversation, she turned again to the reporter. "Ms. Nord-Schuler ... Is that right?" Sandra waited for the affirmative reply. "Mizzz Schuler. Never again come at me with a camera running. If you wish to talk to me, YOU will make an appointment. YOU will never again ask questions about any of my cases or clients without permission. If I find out that you contact any of my clients without first contacting my office or me, I will see that you will be sitting in court for the next six months. Do you understand, Mizzz Nord-Schuler? Good!"
Sandra then turned and left the stunned reporter. She knew in a way she was lucky this was a new reporter. If she had had more experience, she would never have been intimidated. But if she'd had more experience, the reporter would have been more circumspect in her initial questions.
That was just the start of the weirdness. This morning she heard the news of the deputy sheriff's disappearing and the closing of the school. The law firm was abuzz with rumors that people in the school were about to be arrested by the police. Jack Andrews, the school's lawyer, called at eight-thirty and requested a settlement meeting that morning. When she questioned him on who would be there, she was surprised that neither Shermon nor Kawalski would be. She put him off for a day.
She had to find out what was happening. She called the sheriff's department and asked for Hakanen, the deputy she had talked to earlier. She was told he was out on the search and couldn't be contacted. She than tried the county prosecutor's office but was again put off. She didn't know any other local people, so she called her office to see if they could get any information from the BCA state offices. She sat through the rest of the day, waiting for a return call and trying to discern what was happening.
* * * *
Henry had barely started to ask Makinen about yesterday's encounter with Shermon and Kawalski when his radio sprang to life. Nancy asked him to call back on a phone line. He asked to use the Waithe's phone. It was than he heard about another body found.
He left immediately for the logging site. There were ten police cars, the BCA van and a TV truck pulling up by the time he got there. Someone had had the sense to pull a logging truck across the entrance to the landing.
Henry had to walk a hundred yards down the muddy access road before he got a clean sight of the scene. The macabre sight of the black plastic lumps dangling six feet off the ground from the back of a skidder rolled his stomach.
Men from the BCA and sheriff's department were still photographing the ground around the skidder. One man was dusting the skidder for fingerprints. Two others were trying to make casts of some footprints and tire tracks. Henry stood back out of the way and looked at the lumps, the bodies. The bodies! All you could see sticking out of the plastic was a single white hand with a small trickle of blood dripping to a small puddle on the ground, but there were more lumps than just one body could make.
Henry realized that Frank was standing next to him. "Do you know who the bodies are?"
"What?"
"The bodies?"
Frank looked again his mouth open. "Oh, my God! You're right. There is more than one body there."
In the anger of frustration, Frank erupted, "God damn it! Didn't anyone notice there is more than one body here?" Everyone turned away. No one wanted to catch Frank's angry glare.
"Easy, Frank. The boys are tired. It's the bastard doing the killing we need to get. We need to get the son of a bitch now!"
The forensic crew seemed to have finished. They stood to the side, waiting for the okay to lower the bodies.
Frank finally asked, "Is the coroner here yet?"
"He's still a few minutes away, Frank," someone answered.
"We'll wait for him. I don't want any mistakes. I don't want this bastard to get away because some bit of evidence was lost or mishandled."
They waited in silence, knowing who would be found in the plastic but not wanting to know. Using the excuse of not knowing to bear the tension of the waiting, the lined up men shifted their weight from one foot to the other. When the coroner walked up the road to the wood lot, he saw the macabre ballet of the men in front of the raised human sacrifice. For a minute, the coroner thought he was on the set of a cheap movie where someone stumbles on a cult in the process of offering a human sacrifice. This he knew would be the third body of this killer, without even checking. The killer's placing and mutilation of the bodies all had the same chilling affect. He prayed that when they opened the bundle, the killer would be dangling from the steel cable, not another victim. The men could change their minuet of horror to a dance of joy if only his prayer would be answered.
They lowered the bodies and for the first time knew in fact who the mangled remains belonged to.
* * * *
_The hands remove the card from the deck. Something has happened. The hands move in jerky motions, sometimes reaching for the light switch,
sometimes the card. Finally they rest on the table and tap a beat not quite on tune. Somehow the unexpected has occurred._
The top of the card has a lion's head with wings mounted on the caduceus of Hermes. Beneath, a boy and a girl are sharing two cups in a pledge.
_The hands finally reach for the light and plunge the room into darkness.
CHAPTER 14: The Two of Cups
Jeffrey had gone to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was nearly an hour since Hakanen had left. The TV stations had interrupted their programming with the information that another body had been found north of town. He believed James when he said his daughter was in danger. Normally, the coffee would calm him down instead his concerns for his daughter increased.
When he returned to the living room, James was asleep in the sofa chair. Lori was switching channels, trying to find more information about the newly discovered bodies. Watching them for a minute, he made a decision.
"I'm going out for a while. Be careful on who you let in and keep the doors locked."
"Yes, Daddy," came the slightly impertinent reply.
Lori looked at Jim, "You know, I don't think he has had more than a couple of hours of sleep in the last three days."
"I'll buy some groceries and then I'm going to talk to some of my friends at the VFW Post. You can call me there if you need me."
"Okay, Dad."
Lori watched Jim sleep for a while after her father left. He had sagged in the chair until his head twisted in an extreme angle. She decided to move him to her bedroom.