Chapter 14

It was close to 8:00 a.m. when Martin and Shirley saw Clark Grayson’s car pull into the Sentinel parking lot. Shirley took a stack of the unread newspapers off the corner of her desk and quickly put them into the bottom file draw by her right leg. The pile fit perfectly into the draw, which happened to hold Shirley’s backpack and nothing more. She kicked the drawer closed with her navy Swedish clog, and whispered to Martin, “Here, take this other stack. I can’t look like I’m too interested in what you’re doing. Just make sure you make copies of anything suspicious, and highlight the good parts.” She looked out the front window and saw that Clark was struggling to get something out of the back seat of his car. “I’ll keep looking at these old issues to ‘pass the time’. It’s fun, right Martin?” She winked at him as he nodded at her. “Now get out of here with that other stack of newspapers before Clark comes in!” she whispered loudly at him.
Martin decided that Shirley wasn’t trying to sabotage his efforts. It was pretty clear to him that she wanted Talbot nailed as much as he did.

Martin spent the day plowing through his own stack of newspapers, looking for anything that would support his digging further and collecting solid proof of Talbot’s misdeeds. Whenever he’d find anything of interest, he’d casually go to the copy room and make his copies, making sure that he didn’t attract too much attention. As he passed the desks of this co-workers, he noticed most of them were either surfing the internet or playing solitaire on their computers. Typical Holy Week.
Only Clark seemed to be truly working. He was on the phone constantly and left the building at 11:00 a.m. for a long lunch meeting. Shirley took that opportunity to make her copies and replenish her stock of unread issues of old Sentinels.
Martin and Shirley had agreed in the morning that they would make sure they were the last ones out of the building when the day ended. That way, they could compare notes and make plans for their dinner meeting at Risky Dick’s. Clark never made it back after lunch, and everyone else saw this as an opportunity to leave early. At 4:45 p.m., Martin, seeing that everyone had left, walked up to Shirley’s desk in the reception area and said, “I think everyone is gone. Did you find anything else of interest?”
Shirley opened the right bottom file draw and pulled out a file folder thick with paper. “Did I ever!” she replied. “Wait until you see this stuff, Martin. This can’t be a coincidence.”
Martin’s eyes grew wide at the thickness of the file. “Okay, Shirley. We’re still meeting at Risky Dick’s, right? I can’t wait to read this.”
Shirley scratched her head and replied, “Risky Dick’s, Martin? Why there?”
Martin didn’t hesitate a moment. “You’re right, Shirley. It wouldn’t attract attention at all that you and I are having dinner at Adventures.”
Shirley looked at him and wiggled her eyebrows. “So, Martin, you think people will suspect us of having an affair or something?” When he looked shocked at the suggestion, she rolled her eyes and said, “Relax, Martin, it’s a joke. Remember me saying you need to get a sense of humor? You still need to work on that.”
Martin laughed a little and said, “No, really Shirley, Risky Dick’s is perfect. No one cares who comes and goes. And Don Wardle, the owner, is a great guy. He’s…”
Shirley cut him off. “I know Don. He is a great guy. And you’re right, Risky Dick’s is the right place for us to be working on this stuff. You and I could be doing it on the bar and no one would even notice.” Martin’s face look startled again. “Humor, Lundeen, humor. I’ll see you there at 7:00.”

Martin was sitting at the bar when Shirley walked in at 7:13 p.m. She looked around furtively, and sat next to him, looking at all the tables and booths to see if she knew anyone. Upon seeing nothing but strangers, she relaxed. “Some of Greg’s co-workers at Howe Construction hang out here. Since I told him I was going to visit my mother, he might be surprised to hear that I was with you at Risky Dick’s.”
Martin looked at her closely and asked, “Why do you have to lie about this?”
Shirley looked back at him and said, “It’s complicated. I’m not too worried. He’ll be asleep by the time I get home, so I won’t have to make up a big story about my visit with Mommy Dearest. And it’s Tuesday of Holy Week. Mr. ‘Goodie Two Shoes’ Howe doesn’t like his employees boozing it up during this sacred time of the year. So none of them should come in here tonight.”
Don came over to them and said, “Well, well, well, Martin. Two different ladies, two different nights. If you don’t watch it, you’ll get a reputation for being a player.”
Martin looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. Before he could protest or make introductions, Shirley said, “How are you doing, Don? Great seeing you. Now quit giving my friend here a bad time. We’re here to discuss business.”
“And Shirley, it is wonderful to see you as well,” Don responded, oozing with charm. He took both of her hands into his and asked, “How is everything going? You doing okay?”
Shirley warmed to his sincerity. “Things are good, Don. And now I have a new cause to get into.” She cocked her head towards Martin. “This one’s got me looking into Frank Talbot’s teaching career…”

By the time Martin and Shirley had finished their first beer, it was clear to Martin that the Campbells and Don Wardle were friends, close friends, but ones who maybe didn’t socialize that often. Don just seemed to know a lot about Shirley and Greg’s life together, their home, their interests. And Shirley clearly held great affection for Don. Martin sensed that she felt gratitude for something he did for her. But what that was, neither Don nor Shirley revealed.
When their burgers were served, Shirley pulled out an Excel spreadsheet of all the articles she had found, the content and her perceived relevance. “Does Clark Grayson have any idea how smart you are, Shirley?” Martin asked her several times during the evening. “No, he doesn’t,” she replied, “and that is just fine. I’d hate to raise his expectations for me as an employee.”
For the next two hours, after reviewing and comparing all of their notes on past issues that covered 1973 through 1992, they were more convinced than ever that Frank Talbot was not only a pervert, but a dangerous predator. Both Martin and Shirley were sickened, however, that no one stopped him.
“Why do you think no one ever stopped him?” Martin asked Shirley. “I mean, someone had to know this was going on. Why didn’t anyone ever just haul him in and throw the book at him?”
Shirley said nothing as Martin railed at the school board and local authorities for their lack of attention and action and complete irresponsibility as it pertained to protecting the girls of Burnett County. He went on and on for nearly five minutes until he noticed Shirley just looking at him, frowning at him, her chin in her hand and her elbow on the bar. Finally he said, exasperated, “Well, Shirley, don’t you agree?”
“Well of course I agree, Martin. But it isn’t always that easy,” she said. “You’ve got to remember that his victims were young girls. And a lot of them just avoided him rather than deal with him. He was a teacher, hired by a bunch of idiots who didn’t do their homework. Did anyone call Aberdeen to find out why he was leaving in the middle of a school year? Hell, no! They just bought his bullshit. And they weren’t the only ones…”
Shirley stopped short. Either the beer or the realization of how bad the situation was made her start to go down a road she wasn’t prepared to travel with Martin. She knew she had said too much, and Martin’s curiosity was piqued.
“What do you mean, ‘they weren’t the only ones’?” Martin asked. Shirley could tell by the way he asked that he had information to make that question not as innocent as it sounded.
She turned on her barstool and faced him. “Okay, Martin. I may as well tell you. I know Frank Talbot and what he was capable of. He ruined my family’s life. He married my older sister, Beverly, when I was 17 years old. Just guess who his first under-age conquest was in Burnett County?”
Martin’s jaw dropped and as he said, “You mean…?”, Shirley interrupted him. “Yep, even though he was married, Frank thought it was okay to have sex with his wife’s little sister. That’s what ended their marriage, before it even began, really. It was the summer of 1975, right after I graduated from Siren High. Bev and Frank were married just 3 months when he raped me.”

Martin didn’t need to ask a lot of questions. Once she got started, Shirley couldn’t stop telling her story. It was as if she were telling it for the first time.
“When I told my parents what Frank did, they didn’t believe me. And when I told Beverly, she said she didn’t believe me either, but I know she did. She fell for him so fast, she wasn't thinking when he asked her to marry him. He used to be pretty good looking and so smooth. He came into town in January, met Bev in February and they got married in May. She believed everything he said…until he raped me. She tried to defend him, but then things didn’t add up. By the time he started teaching at Siren High, Bev had left town to start her life over in Minneapolis. Their divorce was final a year later.”
Shirley paused to catch her breath and asked Don for another beer. “My parents finally figured it out and essentially banished Frank from their lives. But they always blamed me for Bev’s marriage breaking up. Like I’m the great seductress!” Shirley tried to smile, but ran her hands through her long, gray hair and shook her head. “Sometimes I just have to joke about it, or I’ll cry, you know? I never made peace with my dad before he died, and my mother and I deal with each other on an as needed basis. And Beverly? I haven’t spoken to her in 35 years.”
For a moment, Martin was speechless by Shirley’s revelation. Then he asked, “So you are helping me because…because…?”
Shirley gave a little, guttural scream and growled, “I’m helping you to help me! Maybe, just maybe, getting Frank revealed as the monster he is will help me get past this. It’s been 35 years, you know. I’m ready to be done with this.”
Martin put his hand on Shirley’s shoulder. “Okay, Shirley, okay. We’ll do it. Before we’re done, everyone will know Frank Talbot for who he really is.”