was going to be. The sun had two hours left on the horizon, and it was reflecting pinks and dusty purples off the treetops, the intense heat of the day making the colors more vivid than usual. The air smelled like water and woodsmoke, and I could hear the pop of firecrackers and a family laughing in their backyard. The pleasant sounds would be drowned out in exactly one hour by the twang of raucous country guitars, but for right now, the town was beautiful. I forced myself to relax. I needed Dr. Castle to be able to feel comfortable enough to confide in me.
“How do you like Battle Lake so far, Dr. Castle?” I was actually a little intimidated by her, now that we were one-on-one. As recently as last winter, I had been a professional college student, and although I was the same age as her, she seemed more confident and much smarter.
“Dolly. You can call me Dolly, and I like the town just fine. The people seem very warm.”
“Really?” I didn’t hide my surprise well.
“Really. What, you thought they’d be mean to me because I’m taking away the Chief?”
“You mean, you were taking the Chief, until he disappeared.”
“Funny timing, that.” Her eyes were hooded, and I couldn’t tell if she was relaxed or hiding.
“Mmm-hmm. So since he’s gone, your work here is done?”
“Oh no. Chief Wenonga was the symbol of the sort of thing PEAS is fighting, but he wasn’t ever the only problem. I’m hoping to do away with the festival entirely.”
I stirred sugar into my icy tea and played devil’s advocate, hoping to mine some information. “Is the festival so bad? People don’t even really know what they’re celebrating. They just want an excuse to get together and have some fun.” It was a plausible argument. In Otter Tail County, where we outshone the country in per capita sales of fishing licenses, we had 1.004 men for every woman, the median age was 41.1, and the mean temperature was not much higher, people deserved distractions.
“Ignorance is not an excuse, am I right?” The question came out gently, but I noticed her neck tense. “Objects sacred to the First Nations are used as tourist attractions, and that’s offensive to those who respect spirituality. Stereotypical representations of Native American men, like the Chief Wenonga statue, limit the role and history of Native American men to that of violent warriors. They also ignore modern cultural experiences of native people and the roles of women and children. Is that necessary?”
“I never thought about all that. Maybe we should appease Les and put up a drunken Irishman statue.” I laughed, hoping my lame joke would get a reaction from her, but she sat still but for her breathing, studying me. I changed the subject. “You know they found fingerprints at the base of the Chief, right? It won’t be long until they match those with the culprit.”
Still no movement. “The culprit would have to have their fingerprints in the system, wouldn’t they?”
I blinked once, then again. Of course! If a person has never committed a crime, they wouldn’t ever be fingerprinted. If they’d never been fingerprinted, there would be no way to match them to a crime unless they were a suspect. I laughed with joy. I had never been fingerprinted in my life. As long as no one saw me at Halvorson Park this morning, or could trace the 911 call to me, I was safe. I just had to stay under Wohnt’s radar until I found the thief, who was possibly a murderer.
I grinned at Dolly Castle, who appeared to be laughing silently at me. “You look mightily relieved,” she said, “as if you just got a pardon. Maybe you have something you want to share?”
For a second, I thought we could be friends, but not until I was permanently off the hook and someone else was on. And that someone might still turn out to be Dolly.
I backed off my smile. “How’re the cookies?”
Dolly’s eyes, which she directed over my shoulder and at the door to the main café,
“How do you like Battle Lake so far, Dr. Castle?” I was actually a little intimidated by her, now that we were one-on-one. As recently as last winter, I had been a professional college student, and although I was the same age as her, she seemed more confident and much smarter.
“Dolly. You can call me Dolly, and I like the town just fine. The people seem very warm.”
“Really?” I didn’t hide my surprise well.
“Really. What, you thought they’d be mean to me because I’m taking away the Chief?”
“You mean, you were taking the Chief, until he disappeared.”
“Funny timing, that.” Her eyes were hooded, and I couldn’t tell if she was relaxed or hiding.
“Mmm-hmm. So since he’s gone, your work here is done?”
“Oh no. Chief Wenonga was the symbol of the sort of thing PEAS is fighting, but he wasn’t ever the only problem. I’m hoping to do away with the festival entirely.”
I stirred sugar into my icy tea and played devil’s advocate, hoping to mine some information. “Is the festival so bad? People don’t even really know what they’re celebrating. They just want an excuse to get together and have some fun.” It was a plausible argument. In Otter Tail County, where we outshone the country in per capita sales of fishing licenses, we had 1.004 men for every woman, the median age was 41.1, and the mean temperature was not much higher, people deserved distractions.
“Ignorance is not an excuse, am I right?” The question came out gently, but I noticed her neck tense. “Objects sacred to the First Nations are used as tourist attractions, and that’s offensive to those who respect spirituality. Stereotypical representations of Native American men, like the Chief Wenonga statue, limit the role and history of Native American men to that of violent warriors. They also ignore modern cultural experiences of native people and the roles of women and children. Is that necessary?”
“I never thought about all that. Maybe we should appease Les and put up a drunken Irishman statue.” I laughed, hoping my lame joke would get a reaction from her, but she sat still but for her breathing, studying me. I changed the subject. “You know they found fingerprints at the base of the Chief, right? It won’t be long until they match those with the culprit.”
Still no movement. “The culprit would have to have their fingerprints in the system, wouldn’t they?”
I blinked once, then again. Of course! If a person has never committed a crime, they wouldn’t ever be fingerprinted. If they’d never been fingerprinted, there would be no way to match them to a crime unless they were a suspect. I laughed with joy. I had never been fingerprinted in my life. As long as no one saw me at Halvorson Park this morning, or could trace the 911 call to me, I was safe. I just had to stay under Wohnt’s radar until I found the thief, who was possibly a murderer.
I grinned at Dolly Castle, who appeared to be laughing silently at me. “You look mightily relieved,” she said, “as if you just got a pardon. Maybe you have something you want to share?”
For a second, I thought we could be friends, but not until I was permanently off the hook and someone else was on. And that someone might still turn out to be Dolly.
I backed off my smile. “How’re the cookies?”
Dolly’s eyes, which she directed over my shoulder and at the door to the main café,
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