The heater was broken again.
The cold November air worked its way through every crack and splint in the old station house. The secretary at the front desk thought little of it and pulled her sweater over her shoulders letting out a detached sigh.
In the corner, Sheriff Rainer watched the sheriff station’s coffee pot grow cold. The TV was on the fritz and watching the old coffee pot brew and drip served almost as entertainment.
It was more than a slow day, it was a slow month.
The population of Chautauqua County tended to dwindle in the cold months and even then people liked to keep to themselves. Except for a few noise disputes or car accidents Rainer had been lost in a sea of paperwork stuck behind a desk.
“Shit”, Rainer eased out of a desk chair as a familiar man approached the station.
“Sheriff ?”, the man said
The old man stumbled through the door, one hand snug around an canvas bag. He appeared shaken and ambled over to Rainer’s desk, The click of his metal cane echoing in the small room.
Rainer couldn’t count the times Roger DeLune had burst into the station in the past months, ranting about his missing granddaughter. The Sheriff had calmed him down but the truth was it was out of county jurisdiction, but Roger was a family friend and with that came a listening ear.
“How are you Roger”
He took another step, letting his canvas bag and it’s contents roll to the ground
“I saw her Sheriff”, Roger’s voice as husky he was out of breath but Rainer knew what this was about. Roger was in bad health and Rainer suspected it had something to do with the bottles on the floor.
“Now, Roger we talked—“
“Listen, now Olive. I know what I saw she was here just down that way”, he pointed down the street, and “you have to believe me. Your father would have.”
Rainer shifted her position, letting her curly auburn hair fall free from her sheriff’s hat. Her father would have listened to Roger, hell, he would have poured a cup of coffee by now. Rainer had been used to getting compared to her father after she took over his position, today she decided to give in and nodded for Roger to continue.
“I see her everywhere”, continued Roger, “This time she spoke and I. . .”
Roger became distracted by the photo of Rainer’s father on her desk, it was a new fixture the picture had been taken just before his death a few years back.
“. . . and she spoke to me”, he finished, “she was in an old car, I couldn’t see who was driving”
Rainer reached for a pen a new type of compassion as she filled out the report. He spoke carefully and placed a picture of the girl from his wallet onto the table.
“I’ll see what I can do, Roger”
Rainer called in one of the deputies to take Roger home, keeping the picture of Clara tucked into the side of her notebook.
While she sat and pondered what to do next the mystery began to unfold itself.
---
The call had come in around midnight,Rainer stood out in the cold, her Sherriff’s boots digging into the ground, if she could she would have let out a low whistle.
.
She stood back as the black Ford Fairlane was pulled out of the ravine just of the northwest back roads. Pulling the car out of the ravine had been quite a task for the small office a few deputies from other counties had been called in, most unsure what to do. Rainer canvassed the area trying to figure out what she was looking for.
The ravine was surrounded by a bleak flat piece of land, the grass was covered with a light frost that crunched under her shoes. The car had clearly veered off the road maybe hours ago everything else remained a mystery.
Deputy Morrisy one of the three deputies working in the county jogged over to Rainer from his car, he had a folder and she inwardly groaned from the thought of more paperwork.
“It’s not registered”, said deputy Morrisy, “no plates, no . . . bodies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the car around town before.”
“Hm”, Rainer responded walking around the area
“Don’t think I’ve ever been this far out in the county”, said Morrisy , "It's kinda creepy"
“That so?”, she pushed the tip of her boots into the ground.
“What’s out there anyway”, Morissy was young and enterprising but he asked to many questions.
“No much now”, she said following his gaze, “There was murder a few miles up that way.. . that years ago though. My Dad worked the case. Got him promoted to Sherrif”
“Think it’s the same person who took the DeLune girl, maybe he got out of prison. ”
“No”, she laughed, “I’m sure we would have found the body by now. Although . . .”
“What is it Sheriff”
Rainer shrugged it off, if anything she knew about the 1955 case was that Roger and his wife had somehow been involved. They had been questioned when a couple reported their nephew missing .
Rainer would often read the case, if only to find comfort in her father’s handwriting getting inside his head trying to figure out how he worked. Trying to solve the crime he couldn’t.
“Call Martin DeLune”, she ordered
“And Roger ?”
“No.. . let’s wait till we have better news”
--
He appeared sullen with dark markings under his eyes. He couldn’t keep himself concentrated for to long on one question or a spot on the wall. Martin DeLune also didn’t seem to keen on resting his daughter’s safety in a woman 18 years younger than him.
Martin claimed to know nothing about the car, something else however was on his mind.
“Martin”, Rainer whispered, “What’s going on.”
His jaw clenched fingers drumming on the table there was something more.
“My wife and I. ...We received a letter”
“What kind of letter ?”, Rainer’s voice became authoritative
“Ransom letters…I haven’t paid it yet—“
“They will keep asking for more”
“ I shouldn’t be talking to you”
“Martin, this isn’t going to stop—“
“Yes, it is. Money talks a hell of a lot more than justice.”, he stood causing the chair underneath him crash to the floor, “and you and your backwater town are going to stay out of this. My father is a drunk he barely know s what year it is."
"But the car" . .
"Drop it Sheriff, if you're truly his friend then leave it."
Martin strode to the door, pausing just slightly before opening it, leaving Rainer pouring over a dead end case.
Martin walked around the block certain that no man had ever felt the desperation he felt now, he feared his wife was losing faith in him especially with another child on the way.
The sun was beginning to set but just before nightfall Martin found the second place that gave him comfort.
His mother's grave.
He had tried to be the best man he could for her, He wanted to make up for his father's short coming.
In truth Martin had infact not paid the ransom. For the first time he had bills to pay and proved unable to protect his own daughter.
He had disgraced his family name and run it through the dirt quicker than his father.
"Forgive me mother", he said, "Forgive me"