Backwater Justice

Book 36: Sisterhood

by Fern Michaels

Genres: Women's Fiction; Suspense; Siblings

Synopsis

The Sisterhood: a group of women from all walks of life bound by friendship and years of adventure. Armed with vast resources, top-notch expertise, and a loyal network of allies around the globe, the Sisterhood will not rest until every wrong is made right.

The small Oregon town of Mountain Valley seems like the perfect place to safely raise a family, away from the dangers of the big city. Vanessa’s parents think so, until the day their fourteen-year-old daughter doesn’t come home for dinner. They call her cell. Straight to voice mail. They call her friends. Nothing.
 
An attendant at the local gas station mentions seeing a girl fitting Vanessa’s description getting into a pick-up truck that he thinks belongs to one of the Spanglers. Everyone knows the Spanglers—the richest, most influential family for miles around.
 
Patriarch Milton Spangler offers a $50,000 reward, determined to quash any notion that his family might be involved. But as search parties fail to yield any clues, another young woman goes missing. Are these simply disillusioned runaways[CC1] ?  Or does the Spangler family have something to hide?
 
Myra Rutledge has honed her instincts over scores of missions, and the news stories about missing young women set her internal alarms ringing, especially when it involved her old friend, Milton Spangler. . She shares her concerns with other women of the Sisterhood, and they agree to look into the goings-on in Mountain Valley. But a small town like this can have deep secrets, especially when one family holds so much power.
 
Praise for Fern Michaels and her Sisterhood novels
 
“Readers will enjoy seeing what happens when well-funded, very angry women take the law into their own hands.” —Booklist on Weekend Warriors
 
“Delectable . . . deliver[s] revenge that’s creatively swift and sweet, Michaels-style.” —Publishers Weekly on Hokus Pokus
 

Release date: December 24, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 368

Sample

Fifteen-year-old Milton Spangler came home to a wailing mother, a hysterical sister, and a phone ringing off the hook. “Papa is dead!” the thirteen-year-old girl shrieked. Milton stood in the doorway with his mouth agape.

“What are you saying?” He ran over to his little sister and placed his arms on her shoulders. “What do you mean Papa is dead?” He looked at his mother, who was too bereft to speak.

“Papa! Dead!” She continued to sob as the phone went on ringing.

He gently released her and lifted the receiver. “Spangler residence. This is Mill.”

“Oh, dear. I am so sorry to hear about your father.” A woman’s shaky voice sounded on the other end.

“Your father. There was an accident. At the mill.” She was gasping between sentences.

Mill turned to his mother for a clue, but she was sobbing into an already soaked kitchen towel. “Aunt Jill? What is going on?” He tried to remain calm, but he knew he was going to hear nothing good.

It was right after World War II when Josephine met Harold Spangler at the Geiser Creek Sawmill outside of Salem, Oregon. Josephine worked in the back office, posting invoices into the company ledger. Harold worked in the mill, debarking the trees after the loggers brought them in. Two years later, they were married and had their first child. They named him Milton. They decided that since they’d met at a mill, it was an appropriate name for their son, who was affectionately called Mill. Two years later, they had their second child. A girl. They debated as to whether or not they should call her Milly, but then thought it might be too confusing. They decided on Helen, after one of the magnificent volcanoes in Oregon. Little did they know, Mount St. Helens would explode twenty-eight years later, killing fifty-seven people, making it the deadliest eruption in U.S. history.

Harold had an impeccable work ethic and never refused overtime or to cover for his coworkers. He made what some considered “decent money.” Even with Josephine being a stay-at-home mom, they were able to pay for a modest three-bedroom ranch, albeit with only one bath, an automobile, utilities, and to put food on the table. Family vacations were trips to national parks, and the kids got new clothes each school year. Purchases were made out of necessity rather than luxury, they were never indulgent. Life was good. Calm.

But just after his fortieth birthday, a careless mistake took the life of Harold Spangler and changed the course of his family forever.

It had been a typical day at Geiser Creek. The flatbeds were delivering the newly felled timber to the debarking area. While Harold was waiting for the all-clear signal, one of the fasteners holding the logs on the flatbed snapped, causing the load to tumble off the truck, crushing Harold to death. Some said it was Harold’s fault. Some blamed the crooked foreman, who was rumored to overlook the well-being of the employees. But it wouldn’t be for another six years that the Occupational Health and Safety Administration (OSHA) was formed, establishing safety standards for workers.

The Spanglers had no life insurance to speak of. A mere $2,000 barely covered Harold’s funeral expenses. The company took no responsibility, but offered a job to Mill as a consolation. Josephine vehemently protested, but Mill had no choice. The family needed to eat and pay the bills. The company compromised with Josephine and promised her that Mill would be out of harm’s way. They gave him a desk job doing similar work to what his mother had done before she decided to stay at home and raise her family.

Josephine was also adamant that Mill was not going to drop out of school, and she got no argument from either Mill or Geiser Creek. They didn’t want to look bad to the community and made concessions to the grieving family, proposing a late-afternoon and weekend schedule. It wasn’t quite a full-time job, but it helped the family make ends meet.

With two teenagers, it was time for Josephine to get out of the house and find a job. She couldn’t expect Mill to be responsible for all the household expenses. The mill offered Josephine her old job—another consolation prize—but Josephine wanted no part of Geiser Creek Mill, and she took a part-time job at a local dress shop as a seamstress during the day while Helen was at school. Thanks to Mill’s keen eye for finances, he and Josephine paid their bills with a smidgen left over to put in a savings account. This routine went on for three years, until Mill finally graduated from high school, with a bright future ahead.

The Early Years

The majestic Cascade Mountains served as the backdrop of Milton’s life, with Mount Hood and Mount Jefferson posing like two bookends in the distance. Milton had a great appreciation for the outdoors and the pristine waters of the lakes and rivers. When he was old enough, and his father wasn’t working a sixty-hour week, they would spend hours fishing. The day his father taught him how to bait a hook, Milton got hooked on nature. He spent as much time as he could walking through the woods, admiring the trees. The trees brought much profit to the area. Milton once asked his father what would happen if they killed all the trees. His father explained that Oregon was the first state to enact a reforestation program, in which landowners had to leave at least two seed trees per acre, but as time went on, the building of new American homes required more trees to be planted. Mill became more curious about the process and about everything having to do with the lumbermill.

As often as possible, Milton would ride to Geiser Creek with his father to pick up his paycheck. Mill loved the smell of sawdust. He knew almost everyone’s name at the mill and would wander around the lumberyard while his dad was in the office. Mill often wondered if this was a place he’d like to work, but he saw the physical toll it took on his dad. No. He’d rather smell the wood than handle it. Besides, he was a bit of a whiz when it came to math, an ability he’d inherited from his mother. Maybe he could eventually figure out how to do both. And it was his father’s terrible accident that gave him the opportunity.

Before his father passed, Mill had had a good relationship with both of his parents. It wasn’t Father Knows Best or Leave It to Beaver, but it was close. Good manners. Being polite. And most of all, being honest. His father taught him it was a lot easier to remember the truth than a lie. Lies required a lot of energy to keep track of. Harold Spangler was considered a fine man; gone too soon.

Growing up, Mill had a typical relationship with his younger sister, Helen. They’d fight over who spent too much time in the bathroom, or whose turn it was to fold the laundry or dry the dishes. But they were loyal to each other. No matter how much they argued, no one was going to pick on either of them, not without the other getting into it. Those occasions were rare. With their father gone, Helen looked to Mill for advice and guidance, which he was happy to provide. He also looked after his mother. She never got over the shock of losing her husband. She was able to function, but there was an emptiness in her eyes now.

Milton had big shoes to fill. Despite his schoolwork, and his part-time job at Geiser Creek, he managed to help with the chores, cooking, and shopping. He wasn’t going to let his family down. Even though Harold was no longer around, Mill wanted his father to be proud of him.

During his part-time stretch at Geiser Creek, Mill discovered more efficient ways to file and organize the company’s accounts receivables. Of course, he always ran his ideas past the office manager, who was willing to give Mill a shot at it, especially if it meant the office manager could get away with doing less.

By the time he turned eighteen, he’d become the office manager’s favorite employee, because the young man actually made his life so much easier. When Mill was about to graduate from high school, the manager offered Mill a full-time job. Mill, who wasn’t about to veer off his path of further educating himself, carried out his first negotiation: he would continue to work, but his hours would be flexible so that he could take classes at the local community college, where he planned to study business administration.

Helen was about to graduate from high school, and the savings he and his mother had squirreled away would help pay for her college tuition. A scholarship would cover the rest. Mill insisted she do the full four years and become a teacher. No ifs, ands, or buts, so she enrolled at Western Oregon University, a half hour’s drive from home, thereby saving money on room and board. She majored in early childhood education and met a fellow student named Gary Bahr, whom she fell in love with.

Mill and his mother approved of Gary, which was saying a lot. Mill was very protective of his sister. He felt she’d never gotten over the trauma of losing her father. She was as vulnerable as her mother. But Gary was kind and thoughtful, working on a degree in special education. Mill knew it took a special person to work with special students. By the time Helen finished her internship, they were engaged. Milton was happy his sister had found someone who loved her dearly, and he proudly walked her down the aisle.

Most of the people Helen knew either worked at the mill or knew someone who worked at the mill. It was a constant reminder of what had been taken from her. It was time to move on, and she and Gary found jobs in the small town of Bandon on the Oregon coast. Josephine was troubled that her daughter was moving four hours away, but the trauma of Helen’s father’s death would never leave Helen until she could leave the anguish of her past behind. Within a year of their marriage, Helen and Gary had their first child. A girl. They named her Christina.

Promises were made that Mill and Josephine would visit often, but Mill became consumed with Geiser Creek Sawmill. He was determined that the mill would repay him for the loss of his father. Legitimately, of course. His goal was to eventually own the place and make it a safer environment for all who worked there. Turning a profit would be the icing on the cake.

Long before computers were the caretakers of cashflow, Mill created a calendar to keep track of payments due to the company. Anyone who was a day late got a notice. Not a nasty one, but a “friendly reminder.” By the time he completed the two-year college course, he became the youngest assistant office manager in the history of the mill.

With the receivables coming in on time, the mill was turning a good profit, allowing it to expand and grow. Over the next few years, Mill proved to be a valuable asset to the company, and at the young age of twenty-five, he was asked if he wanted to become a partner in the business. The only issue was the 20,000 dollars required to buy his shares.

Having worked on the books for so long, Mill knew the company had the potential to be valued at a few million dollars. He believed if he had some influence over the company’s practices, he could make that potential a reality. His family home was free and clear, so he took out a loan using the house as collateral. His mother was hesitant, but she also had faith in her son. He had certainly stepped up when his father died. Her biggest concern was that he was still single at twenty-five, and still living with his mother. But times were different back then. He wasn’t a basement dweller playing video games. Most hadn’t been invented yet. No, he lived at home to help support his mother, just as he had for the past ten years. But with Helen, Gary, and Christina so far away, Josephine decided it was time for her to retire from the dress shop and bring her nimble fingers across the state.

Mill lived modestly, in the same house where he’d grown up. He now had enough earnings and savings to look into real estate in Bandon and bought a fifty-acre parcel of land for 5,000 dollars. At the time, undeveloped acreage was cheap, and Mill saw it as an asset. Something for the future.

Mill insisted on helping his sister and brother-in-law finance a house on the property that could accommodate the young family and Josephine. In the beginning, it was a modest ranch with a separate room for Josephine, where she could set up her sewing machine. When Josephine moved, she made Mill promise he would meet a nice girl and settle down. He made good on half the promise.

During a political fund-raising event, he met the “nice girl” he’d promised his mother. Her name was Patricia Wakeman, daughter of a U.S. senator. Milton wasn’t the most handsome man in town, but he wasn’t the ugliest, either. He was average-looking but had a nice smile and was very personable. It didn’t take long for Patricia to see the potential in Milton, and Milton didn’t mind the idea of having a senator as his father-in-law. It was always good to have someone in the Senate who could expedite things that would ordinarily take years. It wasn’t that Milton was an unscrupulous man, but he knew when an opportunity presented itself, it was worth pursuing.

Patricia had recently graduated from Towson University in Maryland. She was involved in a sorority and was invited to many on-campus and off-campus activities. She was, beyond a doubt, the daughter of a U.S. senator. Patricia was being groomed to be a socialite. She never planned on working, but having a college degree was important to her father and his reputation.

Patricia was pleasing-looking, but not stunning. She made up for her slightly above-average looks with her charm, good hair and makeup, and a high-end wardrobe. Well-dressed and well-spoken, Patricia could easily carry on an interesting conversation. She didn’t seem spoiled at the time, and Milton found her likeable. He’d never had a girlfriend for whom he felt a deep sense of romantic love. His mind and heart were consumed with expansion. His passion was accomplishment. For Milton, having a partner was more important than having a lover, except for the brief affair he had just before he met Patricia. That was as close as he ever came to a relationship that tugged at his emotions. But it was ephemeral, and the geographic locations made it impossible. At least they had remained friends.

During the boom of the 1970s, profits soared, and Milton parlayed the company’s assets into several divisions, buying back stock from other shareholders who were looking to retire. By his thirty-fifth birthday, Mill owned half of the lumber company. Before the next three years had passed, he would own all of it. The first thing he did was change the name from Geiser Creek Sawmill to Geiser Creek Lumber and Millwork. He felt the word sawmill limited the perception of the company. And he was right. When contractors sought lumber, they went to Geiser Creek, an all-service company.

Milton spent endless hours reviewing the books, expenses, and ways to be more efficient. That practice was what had gotten him to where he was. He realized renting trucks was a waste of money, so he invested in trucks and leased them to other companies during slow months. He called the new company Interstate Trucking. Not very original, but that’s exactly what it was. As the business grew, he needed more space, so he invested in real estate, building two more lumber and millwork facilities between Salem and Lebanon.

Geiser Creek had become the second-largest supplier of lumber in the entire state. Two years later, it would become one of the largest in the country under the umbrella of Spangler Enterprises Inc. The conglomerate included real estate holdings, as well as a regional hotel chain designed to accommodate truckers, called the Cascade Inns. There were five of them in the Pacific Northwest, attracting many long-haulers, giving them a reasonably priced, more comfortable place to sleep, shower, and eat, than a truck stop or the back of their cab. The inns were refurbished buildings and motels that were scheduled for demolition, and Milton got a tax incentive for renovating the properties. Geiser now had three mills, and a fleet of vehicles including pickup trucks, box trucks, flatbeds, and eighteen-wheelers.

Every Friday, Mill would visit one of the facilities, rotating them every week. He’d have sandwiches delivered and sit with the men and discuss their jobs. He wasn’t trying to intimidate or spy on them. He was genuinely interested in how things were going. What could be improved? What was working and what wasn’t? His several hundred employees appreciated the face-to-face opportunities to talk with the “big boss.” Patricia often questioned why he was spending time with the underlings. “Isn’t that what you have foremen and supervisors for?”

“It’s not the same. I don’t ever want to be out of touch. Besides, talking with the men reminds me of when I was a kid and ran around in the sawdust.”

Patricia would smirk. “Whatever you say, dear. You are the boss, after all.”

As the years went by, he would have to remind himself why he’d married her. He used to like her. But now? He wondered. Had she turned into one of those entitled posers she’d loathed at one time? They say people don’t change. They just become the worst or best of themselves, but the core is still there. Too bad he hadn’t seen her core earlier, although he would never change anything about their son Benjamin.

Milton was on the fence when it came to his father-in-law. That connection was a double-edged sword. But he learned to live with it and made use of his father-in-law’s desire to please his daughter. Milton began to discover Patricia’s true nature when she insisted they hire a nanny for Benjamin. Milton didn’t think it was necessary since Patricia didn’t have a job, but raising a son might infringe on her leisure time, which was most of the time. The senator made the decision for them and paid for a full-time nanny. He wanted his daughter to be available for social happenings, whether they occurred in Oregon or Washington, D.C. Milton didn’t particularly like getting “handouts,” but he told himself it was for Patricia. And Benjamin.

After Benajamin came along, Mill tried to balance home life with work. When he had free time, he made plans to spend it with his son. He wanted to teach Benjamin how to fish the way his father had taught him. Teach him how to ride a bike. Fly a kite. He wanted to have the same kind of relationship he’d had with his father; a relationship that was cut short. He was there when Benjamin took his first step and drove him to his first day of school. Milton worked late hours but always had breakfast with his son. Patricia rarely rose before ten o’clock, but the nanny, Alissa, made sure Benjamin was dressed and ready for school. That was when Milton developed an appreciation for the extra help around the house.

When Benjamin turned eight, Milton began to plan trips with him. One of their weekend adventures included a visit to Bend, Oregon. Surrounded by the Cascades, the town had a “high desert” climate, with three hundred days of clear sunny skies and cool nights. They visited Pilot Butte, one of the only urban volcanoes in the U.S., with panoramic views of the desert, mountains, and the city of Bend below. Milton also planned trips to Bandon to visit his sister’s family and his mother. He took Benjamin to Haystack Rock, one of Oregon’s most popular landmarks. Its basalt sea stack arose two-hundred-thirty-five feet from the shoreline. During low tide, it was possible to walk to the base of it. Milton remembered the day he’d brought Benjamin there for the first time. Seeing the delight on his son’s face was one of the most memorable moments in his life.

There was little time for much else, although he never neglected his wife or other family obligations. Patricia enjoyed the finer things, parties, galas, and travel. Lots of it. Mill did not oppose any of it, as long as he wasn’t expected to be roped into all of it. Some of it, yes. All of it, no.

Patricia

For Patricia, Milton wasn’t like any other man she had met before. For one thing, he wasn’t a politician. For another, he wasn’t looking for favors. Maybe that was the same thing. Milton was a man with a mission that wasn’t “inside the Beltway.” She liked the idea that he was an ambitious young man; a man who had to earn his way, without the benefit of rich and influential parents, even though hers were exactly that. When it came to the dating pool, she had had enough of the pretentious posers in search of benefits for themselves or family members. For Patricia, Milton Spangler would be a good provider, especially if she had anything to do with it. She set her sights on him, and the two formed an alliance. It appeared they came to the same conclusion at the same time. Each of them would get what they wanted from their union. It wasn’t emotionless, but they each had something to gain from it.

As a wedding gift, Senator Wakeman bought the couple a piece of property in Mountain Valley, a suburb of Salem, with the unspoken understanding that it would be a wonderful place to raise a family. Two years later, they had their first child and named him Benjamin, after her grandfather, who had left her a tidy sum. Soon after, they broke ground to build their first house. It wasn’t quite a mansion yet, but was designed for future expansion. The senator saw to it.

Patricia returned frequently to Washington, D.C., to visit family and friends and enjoy social activity with high-puffery politicos. She couldn’t help herself. It was in her blood. The more often she visited, the more she was disenchanted with Salem. She needed a project and decided the family should have a vacation home on the Oregon coast. Bandon was the perfect choice. It took very little coaxing for Milton to agree, since his sister, her family, and his mother were there, and there was plenty of property to build a showcase home, as big and as lavish as the Salem residence. She decided it would have five bedrooms with en suite baths to accommodate weekend guests, family or otherwise. Milton gave her full control of the project, which eventually ran. . .