Chapter 19
Vanian
I fucked up. Big-time. And where the hell is all this weird jealousy and possessiveness coming from? I’m surprised Nantes doesn’t have whiplash after talking to me.
Rubbing my forehead, I pull forward to the stoplight, considering my next move.
I could get to Winona, Minnesota in two and a half hours and still be back in time for dinner.
Nantes won’t even know. When I stopped in at the main house, it was packed with people waiting for tours and so busy all Nantes could do was wave.
I slipped out, and now I’m driving west. It’s daytime though, and after what I pulled with Gage, I can’t afford to keep being messy and impulsive. I won’t do anything. I’ll just watch.
I spend the drive sorting my thoughts, and as I enter the city limits, I note landmarks and street names.
It doesn’t take long to realize this is a university town, but given that it’s summer, the sidewalks are pretty empty.
I pass an ice cream shop that has a bench out front with two kids and a woman sitting there licking cones.
Ice cream sounds delicious right now, so after the next turn, I find a parking spot.
Instead of heading straight for the ice cream store, I stroll up and down the sidewalk, glancing in at all the different stores.
It’s a cute place. Kind of quaint. Two older men sit outside of a barber shop on a bench, shooting the shit.
The scene makes me smile. As I draw nearer, I overhear their conversation, and I catch a particular word.
“Can you believe the nerve of that Fetterman?” one man says. “He thinks he can settle in our town and sully our good reputation?”
I linger in front of the store next to them to eavesdrop. Are they really talking about Alex Fetterman?
“His aunt lives here,” the other man says. “What’d you expect? Dolores would take in anybody, even trash.”
“I called the sheriff and asked him what he planned to do about it, but do you know what he said? Can’t do nothing. He didn’t commit a crime here.”
“He didn’t, Ernest. He was acquitted.”
“He wasn’t acquitted, Amos. The charges were dismissed. You read the article.”
“Yeah, I did. Suppose all we can do is hope he keeps to his own.”
“Except I heard from that city council boy that he’s been asking about some of the storefronts for lease. He’s gonna open a business here.”
“Man’s gotta make a living.”
“Amos, dammit, don’t you care? You’ve got grandkids, same as me.”
“Well, now I heard it was all in the church. He don’t go to my church.”
Earnest huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Megan is worried. All the teachers at the elementary school are.”
“I understand, but I don’t think he’ll go up there. This town’s too small. We’d all notice. He’s already being watched like a hawk.”
Being watched like a hawk, huh? Leaning against the wall, I pull my phone out and see if I can find his aunt’s name. Maybe it’s also Fetterman.
“Need help, son?” Amos calls over to me.
“No, sir. I was just passing by and thought I’d check out the town, see if there’s anything interesting.”
“We’ve got the Marine Art Museum. That’s about it other than trails, but you don’t look much like you’re planning to hike.”
“No, sir.” I glance down the sidewalk. “How’s that ice cream shop?”
“Good. Been open since I was a boy.”
“Fettermans own it,” Earnest grunts. “Younger generation is running it now.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know the Fettermans.”
“Good,” he says.
“Now, Ernest, that family is fine. It’s not their fault they got a bad egg. Every family does.”
“Not mine. Not yours.” Ernest turns his hard gaze to me. “Not everybody.”
“Sorry about him,” Amos says. “The humidity’s getting to him. You should get ice cream. It won’t do you wrong.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I wave and head back in the direction of the ice cream store. There’s a small line, and behind the counter three teenagers are busy filling orders. A woman, probably in her thirties, stands at the register ringing customers up. When I walk in, a bell over the door rings and she looks up and smiles.
“Welcome,” she says.
“Thanks.”
She might be related to Alex. She might know where I could find him. But the worst thing I could do is draw attention to myself by asking questions. I have to think of a way to be slick about it. Something no one would remember if the police came asking.
I make my decision, old reliable cookies and cream, and wait as a kid with a name tag that says “Graydon” on it makes my cone.
As I wait, I gaze around the room. The walls are covered with old photographs, and in the center of the main wall is a large portrait of an elderly couple.
The photo looks like it was taken in the fifties or maybe early sixties, based on how they’re dressed.
Under it is a gold plaque that says “Douglas and Esther Fetterman.”
“Those are my great-grandparents,” the woman behind the counter says. “They opened the place.”
I nod, feigning a lack of interest. “The gentleman by the barber shop mentioned you have good ice cream.”
“Best in town. You’re not from around here?”
“No. Just passing through.”
Graydon hands me the cone and the woman rings me up. “Three eighty-nine, please.”
Cheap. I pull a five from my wallet and hand it to her, dropping the change in the tip jar.
As I eat my cone, I study each picture, landing on one I hope is a good lead.
It’s a large house, stone, and in front is the same older couple from the portrait.
The house appears in several more photos as it seems to be passed between family members.
The most modern one features the woman behind the counter, one of the kids working, and an elderly woman.
It’s gotta be a family home. Maybe one where the aunt lives. If I find the aunt, I find Alex.
Suddenly the woman is right next to me. “Hailey Fetterman.”
“What?”
She laughs softly. “That’s my name. In case you were wondering.”
“Nice to meet you, Hailey.”
“How’s the cone?”
“Great.” I turn back to the picture. “This your house?”
“Not yet, but I live there. I help my great-aunt out with chores and stuff. She’s getting up there in years.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. She’s very sweet. Generous too. It’s an old family home, so when she goes, it’ll be mine. She doesn’t have kids.”
“Not a bad deal.”
“Nope.”
“This seems like a nice town. Quiet.”
“It’s better when school is in session, but I can’t complain. It’s my home.”
I peer closer to the photo. “Your great-aunt looks familiar, but I don’t know how I could know her.”
“Probably not. She’s never left Winona her whole life, but she used to teach a long time ago. Way before you would’ve been in college.”
“Did she ever write any papers? Maybe I read one.”
“I don’t think so. She taught English and literature. Dolores Fetterman, but she retired before I was even born.”
“She must have a familiar face.”
“Maybe. How long are you in town?”
“I’m not in town. I’m just passing through.”
“Ah, heading to the big city?”
“Yeah.”
“Mom,” one of the kids says, “we’re running out of peach ice cream.”
“Okay.” Hailey smiles. “If you want to drive by the place, it’s a historic building. It’s two miles from here. Take a left, you can’t miss it.” She leans closer. “Don’t tell my aunt I told you. She hates the lookie-loos, as she calls them.”
I chuckle. “My lips are sealed.”
“Take care.” She turns to leave but pauses. “Oh. If you see a surly man out front, don’t engage. He’s eternally in a bad mood.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s my…” She shrugs. “My great-aunt’s nephew, whatever relation that makes him to me. He’s just staying for a bit, but he’s rude to people.”
“Noted. Thanks for the ice cream.”
“You’re welcome.”
Man, you gotta love a small town. How long would it have taken me to get this kind of intel in Madison or Chicago? I head back to my car and decide to do a little drive-by. I won’t do anything, I just want to know what I’m dealing with if I decide to.
Down the street, exactly as Hailey described it, sits a big stone house on the corner.
It’s beautiful, if a little worn around the edges, but its original grandeur still shines through.
No one is outside, but there’s a beat-up truck in the drive, next to a luxury sedan.
I pull to the curb and sit for a bit, pretending to use my phone while I stake out the place.
Thirty minutes go by and nothing happens.
Either no one is home or everyone is staying inside.
There are lots of windows though. Plenty of ways to get into the house.
I bet in a town as small and homey as this, they don’t bother with a security system either.
Maybe I can come out again in a few days to get another read on the place.
I need to make sure Hailey and Dolores and any other innocent people are left in the dark.
If Fetterman ever leaves his house, that would be ideal. I need to plot the best way to get rid of this douchebag. I start my car and turn around just as my phone buzzes.
Glancing at the screen, my chest tightens when I see who it is.
“Hey, Nantes,” I answer, hoping I sound cool.
“Hey. Where are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean your car isn’t here. Did you go somewhere?”
“Oh, yeah, just out for a drive. Looking at different spots around town. Everything okay?”
“Fine. Busy. I was just checking in. Making sure we’re cool from this morning.”
“We are. I was being weird, not you.”
“I don’t mind a little weirdness.”
I laugh at that. “Good. I’m on my way back.”
“Okay. I’ll be busy until about four when our last tour ends.”
I glance at my watch. That gives me three hours. Perfect. “See you then.”
Ending the call, I blow out a breath. What am I thinking? I can’t do this kind of shit when I’m with Nantes and his family. Ugh. I need to purge this Fetterman dickhead from my brain and let karma catch up to him. I scrub my hands over my face before continuing the drive.
Alex Fetterman will be around if and when I’m ready to take him out. For now, I need to keep my nose clean and my alibi tight.