Chapter 20

Martin pulled up in front of Wild Bill’s at 12:59 p.m., and waited for Sharla in the parking space closest to the door. He knew Sharla knew he was there. He’d see her peak out the window and give a little wave.
At 1:05, Sharla came out of the building, smiling and waving as she came up to Martin’s car. “Hi, Martin,” she said as she climbed into the front seat of his car. “Little Bill just drove in about two seconds before you got here. I was afraid I might have to bail on you. He always slides in just before his shift. I’m never sure he’ll show up.”
Martin put his arm on the back of the passenger seat to look behind him as he backed out of his parking space. He stole a glance at Sharla who, despite her irritation at Little Bill, still managed to smile.
“So,” she said when she caught him looking at her, “what did you do all morning?”
Martin shuddered a little, and replied, “I cleaned my carpet in the apartment. It was disgusting!” Sharla giggled. “I don’t doubt it. How dirty was the water when you dumped it out?”
“Which time?” Martin answered. “I went over it three times, and I’m still not sure it’s clean. If his apartments are any indication, it makes me wonder about Don and how clean he keeps that kitchen downstairs.”
Sharla giggled again. “Oh, Martin. That kitchen is spotless. I can tell. Anyway, Don can’t be responsible for how clean his tenants are. He’s just lucky to finally have one who is somewhat…fastidious.”
“Fastidious, Sharla? Is that what I am?” Martin said, with mock annoyance.
“Yes, you are fastidious. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Have you decided what color curtains and bedspread you’re going to buy today?”

+ + +

The hour drive to Forest Lake flew by, and Martin was almost disappointed when the Walmart came into view on the other side of Interstate 35. Throughout the 60-mile drive, he filled Sharla in on the mountains of evidence Shirley had found that showed Talbot was not only a pervert, but a predator. He also felt he needed to confirm what she believed to be true that, for the most part, Talbot’s targets had been Native American girls. Martin told Sharla enough about the effect on the girls lives, the subsequent violence and suicides, but not so much that she would be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. Martin knew she was tough, but selfishly, he didn’t want her to be in a sad mood for the rest of the afternoon.
Martin didn’t share with Sharla the fact that Shirley was one of Talbot’s victims.

+ + +

It was 1:55 when the car crossed the border between Wisconsin and Minnesota, and 2:00 p.m. on the dot when Martin and Sharla walked into the front door of the Forest Lake Walmart. The place was teeming with crazed parents, from both states, buying up Easter candy, baskets, adorable pink dresses with matching hats and cute little suits with clip-on ties. “Before we leave the store, Martin, we have to go to the Easter candy aisle,” Sharla said in a no-nonsense tone. “I need to pick up some of those little marshmallow chicks. But they have to be yellow.”
Martin looked over at her and laughed a little. “Seriously, Sharla? Peeps?” She looked back at him, frowned and said, “Absolutely. They are delicious.” He stifled his laughter. “Why yellow?” She let out a loud, dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “The pink ones don’t taste right,” she explained. “Let’s get over to home furnishings.”
Sharla grabbed a shopping cart and led the way as they wove through the aisles of the store. Martin hadn’t been in the Walmart since the summer after his senior year in high school. That time, he followed his mother through the aisles as they shopped for his coming move to Milwaukee for college.
Sharla expertly navigated the store, taking the most direct route to an area filled with bedspreads, rugs, curtains, drapes and other home décor items. All together, there were probably 6 aisles of merchandise for them to peruse, and thankfully, things were arranged by category. All the bedspreads were in two aisles.
Sharla could see that Martin was overwhelmed by the number of choices. “Okay, Martin, let’s start with color,” Sharla directed. “Since your walls are blue, you should probably go with something in the cool tones, don’t you think?” He nodded and walked slowly down the first aisle, looking from side to side to see what was available in blues and greens. Suddenly, something caught his eye, and he went over to the shelf and yanked it out. “This is it!” he said, triumphantly. Sharla started to encourage him to keep looking, that there was a lot he hadn’t seen yet, but then she looked closely at his choice and had to agree. “Martin, it’s perfect.” A nubby light blue and chocolate brown plaid spread with a matching pillow sham. “You could maybe get some throw pillows to go with it,” Sharla added, and started toward the pillow aisle.
Before they were through, they had two smaller pillows, one in blue and one in brown, to go with the bedspread, some curtains in a lighter shade of blue than the walls of the apartment and a braided rug that brought in all the colors, plus some red, yellow and green. “Your place will look masculine, but warm and inviting,” Sharla said, using a Martha Stewart tone.
“Sharla, you’ve been reading too many decorating magazines behind the counter at Wild Bill’s,” Martin teased. “Seriously though, I really appreciate your help. This is going to look great.”
They made sure to pick up all the hardware needed to hang the curtains, paid at the checkout and walked out of Walmart at about 2:45, pleased that they picked up some time to actually put everything in place before Jean came over to inspect that evening. The drive home was filled with talking and laughing, and not one mention of Frank Talbot. They arrived at Risky Dick’s well before 4:00 p.m., which gave them over one hour to iron and hang the curtains, place the bedspread and pillows, and put down the rug. Sharla even hung the new shower curtain that Martin picked up at the last minute before they left the store.
They stood in the middle of the room, and admired their work. The colors matched perfectly, and the new rug covered much of the carpet which was clean, but still pretty ugly. “I’m not kidding, Martin. This looks really good,” Sharla said enthusiastically. “Do you like it?”
Martin looked over at her face, filled with earnest concern and a true desire that he like all that they had done. “Sharla, I love it,” he said softly. “Thank you, again. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She smiled and looked down, then looked up and gave him a quick hug. “You’d better hurry and take a shower," she said as she moved quickly toward the door. "It’s almost 5:00, you are filthy and sweaty, and you have to pick up your mom in 30 minutes!”
Had she hesitated in that hug one second more, Martin might have kissed her. But then, she pulled away, and he knew the time wasn't right. He wished he could invite Sharla to join his mother and him for dinner, and maybe church, but he knew the time wasn’t right for that either. “Okay, Sharla. Hey, maybe the next time I have dinner with my mom, you could join us.”
Sharla giggled and looked at him with a look that said she didn't believe him. “Sure, Martin. That sounds good. You just let me know when.”