not?!” Charpentier joined in. “They’re hers!”
“They’ve been seized by the police. If you want them, you’ve got to go talk to them.”
“Epping Police?” They had both heard Sheila rail against the department and the chief who had it in for her.
“I’ve got to bring the rest of them to the shelter in Stratham. If you talk to the police, I’m sure you can work something out.”
The two women looked at each other, unsure of their next step. They knew Sheila would not want to go to the police station, but she was damn set on getting those horses.
“Are they okay? The horses?”
“They’re old. But I think they’re going to be fine. We’ll give them a checkup, give them some hay and groom them.”
Paquin and Charpentier shuffled back to the car and got in. Sheila remained low behind the backseat bench, waiting for some kind of report. None came.
“What did he say?” she finally blurted.
“If we want the horses, we have to go talk to the police.”
“The police? Why?”
“They’ve seized them. But he thinks if we show them the bill of sale, we might be able to get them back.”
“What do you want us to do, Sheila?”
She thought some more. “You’re going to get those horses. Let’s go.”
The car pulled back into traffic and disappeared down the twisting road. In the cab of the pickup, the animal rescue worker was on his cell phone. The 911 operator had put him in touch with the Epping dispatch center.
“There are two women inside the car. It’s a New Hampshire license plate, number….”
9
Wal -Mart
On the evening of Saturday March 11, two weeks before the police investigation of the Silver Leopard Farm began, Sheila turned up at the Wal-Mart customer service desk with Kenneth Countie. Although it lost its holiday season battle with Chief Dodge over twenty-four-hour service, Wal-Mart was still one of the only businesses open late in Epping.
“I need you!” Sheila was rapping her hand on the counter. The younger of the two women behind the desk approached her, but Sheila put up a hand. “No, you,” she said pointing to the older woman. “I need you!”
“Can I help you?” Brigit Pearson asked. She wore the familiar blue Wal-Mart vest with her first name on a tag. Sheila stood in front of her wearing a fashionable brown leather coat.
“There’s a woman, a customer in this store, who just grabbed him by the arm and pushed him out of the way!”
The anger and determination in the customer’s voice at first took Pearson by surprise. She glanced at the young man standing next to the woman. He was wearing blue jeans and a red sweatshirt. Although he would not return the look, keeping his head down the whole time, Pearson could see there was an age difference between the two customers. She looked closer and could see there were cuts and scratches all over the man’s face.
“She did that?” Pearson asked.
“Yes!” Then Sheila said, “Well, no. This is all from a car accident. A really bad car accident and he was burned on his arm and all up in here.”
Sheila grabbed Kenny’s arm and spun him around. The young man made no attempt to resist. Sheila grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled it up over his head, revealing a large burn on Kenny’s back. Pearson was both shocked and embarrassed, but she noted that there was no blood on the inside of the sweatshirt. Pearson noticed something else while looking at his bare torso: his skin color was odd.
The customer service desk was in the center portion of the enormous store, right in front of the checkout lines. Shoppers passing by started to stare. Kenny did not look up. Pearson wasn’t sure whose gaze he was avoiding: hers or Sheila’s.
“He’s in a lot of pain,” Sheila continued. “I want something done right now! I want the head of security and the manager here now! Do you hear me?”
I’ve got to defuse this situation somehow, Pearson thought. Other employees were gathering at the customer service desk or watching from afar.
“I want that woman thrown out! I want something done now! I have friends who work at Wal-Mart, this Wal-Mart, and I want something done now or I’ll have your job!”
Pearson tried to explain that they did not have a security team at their store. “Would you like to call the police?”
“No. I don’t need the police. I’m a lawyer and I can do it myself.”
Pearson dialed the extension for the management office. One of the store’s co-managers, Dan O’Neil, said he’d be right down. Another associate, who had witnessed the tirade, found co-manager Patsy Lynn on the floor.
“There’s a woman flipping out at the service desk,” he told her.
O’Neil and Lynn both approached Sheila with smiles and politely asked how they could help. Sheila’s anger shifted to them as she explained how a woman near the posters in the stationery aisle had assaulted her “husband.” The managers explained they did not have a security team and again offered to call the Epping police.
Sheila tugged on Kenny’s arm and dragged him back through the store. The employees all noticed he winced in pain as she did this. “I’ll have your job! I have friends that work for Wal-Mart in Bentonville. Don’t you hear my Southern accent?!”
Another customer, who had been standing in line at customer service, pulled Lynn aside. “I saw the incident,” he said. “The other woman barely brushed against the man and even said, ‘Excuse me.’ That lady started screaming at the customer in the aisle.”
Minutes later, O’Neil’s walkie-talkie squawked for a co-manager to get over to the electronics department. Sheila was standing in front of a yellow smiley face sign, her own face twisted into a terrible frown. She was yelling that her husband had been assaulted in the store. Again, she pulled on the red sweatshirt and tugged it over Kenny’s head.
“Please don’t do that,” O’Neil requested. “That’s not necessary.”
“You’re all being unprofessional,” Sheila spat. “Don’t you know your own job description?”
“There’s no need to turn this into a personal attack,” he countered.
“I’m going to sue Wal-Mart for millions of dollars! And I’m going to have you all fired!”
“Since you have mentioned suing,” O’Neil said, “we no longer have anything to say to you.” The employees all walked away, hoping this would calm things. Sheila grabbed Kenny and left the store.
A half-hour later, store co-manager Hank Linton was asked to take a call
