Page 82 of Precise Justice

“We have other life insurance, too. I think it’s another two million,” Blake said.

“Jesus, Dad, you’re rich. We should’ve killed the old bitch years ago,” Robbie said.

When she said that, Blake noticed the minister. He turned his head toward them with raised eyebrows.

“Come on,” Blake whispered and led Robbie away.

Late that same night Alice Griebler was just about ready to call it a day and head for home. Except for the custodian, she was the last one to leave the building. As the school nurse, it was part of her job to stay until all athletic events were done. The girls’ volleyball team was hosting an eight team tournament of middle school girls’ volleyball.

They were fortunate tonight. Three of the teams had trans boys on their team. One of them was over six feet tall and weighed a hundred seventy pounds. Alice was totally in favor of allowing this, but she did worry about injuries.

Weather outside required a warm winter overcoat. She retrieved the coat from the coat rack in the corner of her office. She slipped into it while looking at her desk. Specifically, the lower right-hand drawer where she kept her brandy bottle hidden.

One more?she thought to herself. The desk was locked, the key in the bottom of her purse. It could wait until she got home.

Alice was literally counting the days in the school year. As she shuffled along the hallway toward the parking lot exit, she thought about it again. Forty years this spring. She had turned sixty-five in the fall and would max out her pension in the spring. Almost a million dollars’ worth. Forty years as the school nurse for Margaret Sanger Middle School.

In the beginning, when Alice was young and enthusiastic, she loved her job. Of course, middle school kids back then were more respectful. If they got out of line a phone call to a home where normally two parents still resided, would put a stop to it. Now, if they acted up, which they were much worse about doing, the parents or, more likely parent, would take the side of their precious little angel.

Alice went through the exterior door and noticed the heavy snowflakes coming down. January in Minnesota. Snow and cold, real winter was hardly unusual.

Sandra Harding was a very happy girl. Twenty-three, a new job, a career she really loved, always jump started her day early. Today was no exception.

As she drove toward Sanger Middle School, Sandy thought about her as yet unscheduled upcoming wedding day. There was three to four inches of new snow on the streets. Being a Minnesota girl, blue-eyed blonde of course, driving in snow was no problem.

Sandy could feel the engagement ring on her left-hand. He had proposed a week ago but today was the first day she wore the ring. Time to show it off. She smiled at the thought of her mother already planning the wedding. Best of all, Jason was a fully employed fiancée. Life was good for Sandra Harding, soon to be Dixon.

When Sandy drove into the parking lot of Sanger, she noticed a car parked by itself. It was completely covered withfresh snow. She realized that someone must have either spent the night or left the car. As usual, Sandy was the first one to arrive. A few minutes before six o’clock, it was still quite dark.

She parked as close to the door as she could. Exiting her car, she hurried through the snow toward the sidewalk. As she did, a city snowplow entered the parking lot to clear it of snow.

Walking toward the building, Sandy could see something on the sidewalk by the light above the door. A large lump of something completely covered by the snow. She stopped and stared for a moment then cautiously walked toward it.

Sergeant Stanley Argent of the MPD was almost at the end of his shift when the call came. He answered, listened then replied, “On my way,” while thinking,great just what I need. That was two hours ago and he was still hanging around the parking lot of the school.

When Argent arrived, the first on the scene, he found a terrified, pretty young woman waiting. She directed him toward the sidewalk leading up to the entrance door. Argent walked toward what he knew was a body. As he did, he used his shoulder mic to call it in.

He knelt down by the body as carefully as he could. The first thing he noticed were the holes in the top of the skull. At least six of them. Blood, brain matter and brain fluid had matted the hair. The woman was obviously quite dead.

Now, two hours later, Stanley Argent was accruing overtime standing guard at the parking lot entrance. He was chasing cars away, school employees who parked in the lot, to preserve the crime scene. With him were two other patrol cops.

As teachers, staff and students continued to arrive, these cops directed them to the front of the building. Inside there were more police keeping gawkers away from the door to the lot.

“Hey, Stan, been a while,” a tall, black man driving an unmarked department car turned into the school lot, stopped and said. “Still on midnight to morning?” The man in the car, Lt. Owen Jefferson, homicide supervisor, asked.

“HeyOwen. Yeah, still on mids so one of us is always home for the kids.”

“How many are you up to? An even dozen?” Jefferson asked.

“Could be, I’m losing track. The last number I got was seven, maybe eight,” Argent replied while shaking Jefferson’s hand through his open window.

“You do know how to prevent that, right?” Jefferson asked.

“I don’t even know how it keeps happening.”

“Ah. That might be the problem. What do we have?” Jefferson asked, referring to the crime scene.

“Alice Griebler. School nurse. Dr Benny thinks she was struck multiple times with the claws of a claw hammer, on the top of her head.”

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