Potowamish.”
“We’re thinking more along the lines of some kind of police investigation. The house is still there, but it’s been empty forever. It’s one of the few houses on the back side of the lake – the forest side.” Tanner added.
“Nothing but logging roads back there.” Ted said. “Not much news comes out of there.”
“Does the Forest Service keep any kind of records?” Jen asked.
“I suppose. You could probably check with them over in Leinenstern.” Ted said.
“But, if a crime happened over there, wouldn’t it be in the paper?” Tanner asked.
“Oh, for sure. This rag doesn’t miss a beat. I can tell you what Mrs. Samuelsen served Pastor Deiner on the Sunday following Lent 41 years ago this Sunday, if you want.”
“What about child abuse?” Jen asked. Ted and Tanner both shot their glances at her.
“Do they report that kind of stuff around here? I mean, did they, back then?” she continued.
“Yeah, sort of. They didn’t much call it that, but that sort of thing did turn up from time to time. The term back then was “child battering”. I’d remember something like that, though.” Ted said.
“You’ve read all of these?” Jen asked, amazed.
“No, not really. I mean not all the articles, but it’s a 7 page paper, or at least it was up until about 1970, and it doesn’t take long to skim one. I came across three murders in almost one hundred years of papers. The old folks around here say that there’s never been a murder in Sangamon, which is true, I think, but if you include surrounding areas, not true! A guy came back from World War One all goofed up from shell shock or something and killed his father in a fight over a pig, if you can believe that.”
“Around here, I can.” Tanner said.
“There was a family or something that got killed. Some bodies were found. I think that might have been back that way.” Ted said, matter of factly, pointing vaguely in the direction of Reigelheim.
“What!?” Jen and Tanner said in unison.
“Yeah. They were from out of state. Came here for summers.” Ted was digging through stacks of yellow newspaper, looking for dates. “1963, I think. It happened out in the woods around here somewhere.” Ted pulled a stack of about 15 papers from where he must have assumed the summer months from 1963 would be, and threw them on a table.
“Here it is. Big headline for 1963!” He laid the June 15th issue of the paper on the table, page one facing up.
Bodies Found in Reigelheim Forest Preserve
Jen and Tanner both grabbed for the paper, Jen reading aloud:
“Police responded to a report from Forest Service personnel of bodies found near Big Chetek Creek. The victims were Maurice Jaunders from Moline, Illinois, and Harold Lightsey, from Hinckley, Illinois. A third man, whose identity has yet to be determined, was also found dead. A juvenile male was found dead at the scene, as well. The bodies were discovered buried in shallow graves near a cabin belonging to two of the men.
Initial reports indicate no gunshots, but battering wounds and gouging wounds to all five. Details are being withheld pending the notification of relatives in Illinois.”
“Where’s Big Chetek Creek?” Jen asked.
“It runs on the other side of town, but I don’t know where it comes down from.” Tanner said.
“Here.” Ted said. “Here’s the local fishing report map. Shows Potawamish and tributaries. There’s Big Chetek. It looks like it runs down from the Forest Preserve side of the lake. The bodies must have been up in there off one of those logging roads. That’s why Forest Service guys found them, probably.”
Jen and Tanner looked at each other.
“Write the names down on something…” Jen said to herself as she scrambled for a piece of paper and pen.
The Police Department
“Where are we going next?” Tanner asked as they circled the band shell pointing the truck in the direction of the highway leading back to Reigelheim.
“Don’t you think the local cops would have records of this? I mean in Reigelheim?” Jen said.
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s a murder for goddsake.”
“A multiple murder.” Jen said.
“That side of the lake isn’t really even Reigelheim, although you’d think that kind of news would travel like wildfire.” A thought had crept into Tanner’s mind. Would Jay know about this?
“Yeah. And if it didn’t why not?” Jen said.
They drove on in silence for a while, watching the deep green pines slide by lining the county road leading back into Reigelheim. Occasionally they’d pass a locked gate on the North side of the road indicating a barred logging road. Jen peered down each of these, deep into the green gloom present even at high noon in the summer.
They pulled up in front of Reigelheim’s tiny police station. It was next to, almost part of, the Post Office. Tanner killed the engine but didn’t get out of the truck right away.
“I grew up around here, for the most part, Jen. I’m finding it pretty hard to believe that I don’t know about this. It seems odd. I just don’t know why everybody doesn’t talk about something like this.”
”Maybe they just didn’t talk about stuff like this back then.” Jen said.
“Yeah. I guess.” Tanner looked into Jen’s eyes. The high sun made them green as summer. She smiled.
“Wanna go in now?” She said. She actually wanted to kiss him, but somehow the visitor’s slot in front of the police station didn’t seem the right place.
The police station smelled of Pinesol and urine. It served as a the jail, too, and although it was mostly just a holding place for drunks and occasional criminals prior to transfer to county, enough of them had stayed here and pissed on the floor to make sure it smelled like a jail as well as a police department. The serious looking woman at the desk seemed to know this and resent it in her attitude. She didn’t look up as she spoke.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Hi, Janet – I mean Officer Littlehorse.”
The officer looked quickly towards the pair, her demeanor changing, softening somewhat, recognizing Tanner’s voice.
“Hi, Tanner. Thanks for respecting my rank. Better than I get from most around here…”
This part of Wisconsin, once fully populated by American Indians; Chippewa, Ojibwa mostly, now contained almost none, and those who remained were mostly “bloods” like Janet Littlehorse – a person of mixed blood background; Indian and non-Indian parents - although to look at Janet, she seemed to be full blood Chippewa. Her proud, high cheekbones and jet black eyes and hair told the story. Her mother had been an Irish “blood” herself, with an Irish father and Ojibwa mother, and the only trace of this were faint freckles high on her cheeks. Her father was full Ojibwa. She was somewhat stern looking, but with an unvarnished beauty that was completely natural and timeless. She could be 20 or 50.
Janet had known Tanner since he was old enough to ride a bike. In fact, she had known him since the very day he learned how to. Tanner’s dad had just launched him on his maiden solo journey without the aid of training wheels that took him straight into a normally empty road and the path of Officer Littlehorse’s car. She was a rookie cop and gave his dad a full chewing out, but gently. His father had responded to the episode by sending the rookie officer a gift of flowers the following day, grateful for her having not run over his son, but also for not having written him a ticket. The “reds” as the few remaining natives were referred to around there, didn’t get much respect from white folks. Later, she’d become something of a family friend, almost an Aunt to Tanner. She was at all his gymnastic events.
“How’s business?” Tanner asked, smiling. Janet returned a half smile.
“Mrs. Post wants to arrest her neighbor’s dog for barking, that crazy old coot over on Hollowroot road can’t keep his pants on in public, and my back is killing me, but other than that, things are great. How ‘bout you?”
Jen noticed that beneath
the stern exterior, there was warmth in her eye towards Tanner, and almost since she’d walked in the door with him, Jen was aware that she was being “appraised”; small sideways glances that were almost unnoticeable but that also seemed to be giving the sharp eyed officer the information she needed.
“Janet – I mean Officer Littlehorse...”
“Janet’s fine, honey. Nobody’s here but the three of us.” Janet interrupted. “The sherrif’s bound to be in the poker room at the back of the Red Spot by now.”
“This is Jen.” Tanner continued. Janet turned to her partially rose and shook her hand, looking deep into her eyes.
“Girlfriend?” she simply said to Jen.
Jen blushed, then quickly said “Yes!”
“Did you lose a bet?” Janet quipped just as quickly, adding a brief wink.
“No – I won one!” Jen shot back. Janet smiled her first real smile. Jen had passed a test.
“She’s a doll. Don’t screw it up.” She said to Tanner.
“Oh, I won’t!” he said, very sincerely.
“What’s up? What are two young, great looking kids like you doing in a dark smelly police station on a summer day like this?” Officer Littlehorse asked.
“Janet, do you remember anything about a multiple murder around here, years ago? 1963?”
The officer’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “Well, seeing as that’s the year I was born, I don’t recall much, but I do know what you’re talking about. It happened across the lake on one of those logging roads. Three men and a kid, something like that.”
“Do you have any records about it? I mean, we know the names from the Sangamon newspaper, and dates and stuff, but were there any charges? I mean, what happened?”
Janet fixed a long gaze at both of them.
“Why?” she said, slowly and very seriously.
Jen and Tanner looked at each. Jen’s eyes simply asking “How well do you know this woman?”
Tanner looked back at Janet. “It’s really just the three of us here?”
“Yes. Sit down. I can tell I’ve got a story coming. You guys want some coffee?” The officer said, reaching back the pot behind her, topping off her mug. The teens sat in old heavy oak chairs, the seats having been polished to gloss by the backsides of a thousand locals.
“There’s this boy…” Tanner began, while Janet listened impassively. “He just started showing up. He’s not from around here. I mean, I’ve never seen him, and I know everybody our age.”
“He’s red haired, bushy, kind of, It’s hard to say how old he is, really. He looks too tall to be a kid, but there’s something about him that, well, just doesn’t look right.” Jen took over. Janet remained impassive. “A friend of mine and I have both had an – experience – with him.” Officer Littlehorse’s eyes widened perceptibly.
“What sort of experience?” she asked.
Jen went on to detail her experience as well as Delcie’s while the officer listened. Jen omitted the part about the trip to the house with Delcie. Hell, she wasn’t 100% sure Tanner believed her on that, much less a police officer she’d just met.
“What’s this got to do with a 40 year old murder?” the police woman said after a moment’s silence had passed. Tanner looked at Jen, his eyes asking her how much she felt comfortable saying.
“We think maybe we saw the boy at the house. Or… something like the boy. At the house.” Jen’s voice trailed off. The officer’s brow furrowed a little
“Why did you go to the house?” the officer said, her voice just on the edge of admonishment. “You know that’s trespassing.” She said this knowing full well that neither she, the two teens, or the owners of the house, whoever that may be these 40 years later, cared in the least bit about trespassing on the abandoned house.
“I don’t know.” Tanner said. “Same reason every other idiot kid on this lake does at some time or other, I guess. But Jen said she saw something. A deer. Or at least she thought it was a deer. We were out in my boat, cruising on that side of the lake. We just wanted to check it out. I mean, I know it’s trespassing, but you know I wouldn’t do anything, Janet.” Tanner said. He was talking about their visit on the first day, and Jen held her tongue, wondering how long she could keep quiet about her trip there with Delcie.
“Doesn’t excuse trespassing, T.” she said, locking his eyes in her coal black gaze. He looked down.
“I know you wouldn’t do anything. Sometimes people put signs like that up to make sure nobody hurts their stuff. Sometimes they put them up to make sure nobody gets hurt there. I don’t’ care much about the house, but I do care about kids getting hurt.” Janet continued.
“You mean get hurt and sue the owners?”
“Hell, I don’t think you could find clear title on that house much less get anyone to admit they own it after all these years. It would take you three days at the court house just to find a name associated with it. Just don’t go there, is all. That’s all. I’m a public safety officer, right? You two are my public.” These last words were said just slightly louder than the rest of the woman’s calm even tone. Jen noticed that the irises in her jet eyes widened as she said them.
“Janet, we want to know what happened there.” Tanner said, flatly, waiting for a response from the officer.
“Why?” The officer said, again.
“We want to know about the boy. We think he’s still here. I think we saw him there.”
Delcie, Redux
Delcie was sticking her feet out the window of her bedroom so that her freshly painted toenails could just barely reach the sun’s beams that were crawling up the wall as the midday moved towards afternoon. She had tried to call Jen twice but her geeky brother had told her both times she wasn’t home and he didn’t know when she’d get back. Delcie didn’t tolerate waiting any better than she tolerated boredom, so she acted.
“Mom, I’m going to take the car, OK?” she said as she clipped through the kitchen, catching the car keys off the counter without even slowing down for a response.
“I need to grocery shop later, so don’t be long, alright?” her mother said.
Delcie knew this was a bluff. Her mother had just grocery shopped yesterday and she never went into town to shop for anything late in the afternoon, which it was going to be by the time she got back.
She pulled out of the cove onto the main blacktop leading to town and rolled the windows down. She secretly liked the outdoors, although she wouldn’t admit it to many people as it didn’t jive with her suburban princess status.
“God, is there one straight road in the entire state of Wisconsin?” she thought out loud as she continually had to brake going into turn after turn. The state flag should just be a crooked arrow on a yellow background, she thought.
As she neared town the roads straightened a little, just in time for the speed limit to drop. She didn’t make it two blocks into town before she heard her name called.
“Delcie! Hey!” It was Jen, standing by the police station with a guy. Cute guy. Way cute guy. She pulled into an open slot.
“Hey, girl! Delcie shouted as she rolled the window down. Jen approached the car with Tanner just behind.
“Hey. Glad to see you.” Jen said.
“You, too!” Delcie said, looking past Jen at Tanner.
“Oh. This is Tanner. Tanner this is Delcie.”
Tanner reached around Jen and shook Delcie’s hand. Delcie gave her warmest smile.
“Hi, there!”
Jen suddenly felt Tanner’s hands come lightly to rest on her hips. Delcie noticed, and Jen felt better about introducing the two. She leaned back against her boyfriend, who responded by putting his chin on top of her head.
“Well, what are you two doing in town?” Delcie asked, smiling broadly.
“We need to talk.” Jen’s smile had disappeared. Delcie’s did, too.
There was a small diner that just about closed at midday, but they were able to wrangle some soft dri
nks from the sleepy waitress who watched a small TV behind the counter while filling saltshakers.
Jen began, looking around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard, even by sleepy waitresses.
“Delcie, we know some more about the boy.”
Delcie looked at Tanner. Tanner nodded slightly.
“Have you seen him?” she asked.
“No. Not yet.” Tanner said with just a trace of anger in his voice. Delcie looked at Jen, entreating.
“Did you tell him about the dead rose?” Delcie asked Jen.
“He knows everything.” Jen said.
“You don’t think we’re crazy?” Delcie asked Tanner.
“No.”
Delcie looked into her drink glass and frowned a little. She had managed to somehow put aside the incident from the other evening. Not exactly forgetting it, but just putting it aside. But it kept reinserting itself into her thinking, mostly at night, sometimes in the form of nightmares. She felt safe from the event, but still very much in danger, and her sense of reality had shifted. That was what bothered her more than anything.
“We talked to the police.” Jen began. Delcie snapped to attention. Half laughing, she asked what they’d told them, and Tanner explained his relationship to Janet Littlehorse.
“We told her as much as we needed to, to make sure that she would believe us.” Jen said, “But not so much that we’d lose her.”
“Well, how’d she take it?” Delcie asked.
Jen and Tanner looked at each other. Tanner spoke.
“She’s known me most of my life. Let’s just say she didn’t say we were crazy. We found out a lot about what happened there, though. It’s not exactly a secret, but it’s not the sort of thing you want passed around a town that makes a lot of its money off summer tourism. Two families went in on the house with the idea that one would have it for a month or so, and then the other, splitting the time. They were related, though, and wound up spending some time there together, or at least some of them did. The boy’s name was Curtis. He was “mentally ill”. Or at least that’s what the reports said. Mental illness wasn’t something people talked about much then, though. It also covered a lot of things, so nobody’s really sure what the deal was. Just that he was “different”, and a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Delcie asked.
“Well, he was violent, from what Janet said. He got kicked out of school so much they just stopped sending him. One of the families decided to keep him at the lake house, where he wouldn’t be around other kids. This is where it gets really vague. The two families had some kind of falling out. They don’t know if it was about the kid or not, but when they all turned up dead, there were no clues pointing to anybody. There wasn’t exactly a “CSI: Reigelheim” back then. Not much like it today, either, but for sure back then, nobody much cared or looked into it. No killer was “at large”. Anyway, all the bodies weren’t found outside. The boy was found with his head smashed in, but here’s the weird part. He was chained to the wall!
“How old was the kid?” Delcie asked, her face ashen.
“He was 11 years old. He was unusually tall and strong