Discovering Lost Family Members

Blog item from Brotherly Love, Chapter 1, pages 6-8:

Going back inside the house, Frank Tuttle walked through the blue-walled living room into the bright white kitchen. He checked the calendar taped to the refrigerator. It was Thursday, May 9. Outside, a breeze ruffled leaves on the trees. The day felt cool as the temperature hovered in the mid-60s. A horn beeped on the street. A dog barked a few doors away. Ike, Frank’s large black and brown military-trained German shepherd, lay next to the kitchen table munching a bone.

Slicing the envelope open, Frank placed the letter on the table. Taking a cold beer from the refrigerator, he popped the cap and eased himself into a blue-cushioned wooden chair. Ike, briefly eying his master, returned to the bone.

Ignoring the erratic spelling, Frank read the typing: “You cant know me, but Im married to your brother Jack. We live in Port Huron, which is in Michgan. Jack, hes a driver for Huron Trucking. One office is downtown and another plus a warehouse is crossed the river, in Sarnia. Jacks a good man. Hes a provider. He tries real hard. Deep down I know he loves me. He dont mean to get mad but he drinks, you know. Well just a little. We wuz married in ‘33 in Deetroit. We moved here 3 years back when one of Jacks pals got him the drivin job. Plus Jack has ways of makin extra $$$. Like secret trips at night with Pete. Jacks real smart. Me, I work 5 days at Chips Eats, its a diner. Were not far from the big bridge, the blue water.

“Mainly I want you knowin we got Billy. Hes 13. He looks kinda like his old man. Hes got black hair and slender and thin face, black eyes and all. Billy likes baseball and the Tigers – he trys hard in school. I dont think the teachers is alwuz fair. Hes a good son. See – Billy dont know any of his family. Jack and his ol Deetroit pal Gene – they kinda look alike you know. Well, they wuz drinking awhile back – so Jack mentions he had it tough growin up in Baldamore, plus hes got a big brother Frank. Jack says someone told him not to far back you wuz a Army guy now livin in Ypsalanta (sp?). Thats 2 ½ hours from here. Naturaly thats news to me too.”

For a moment Frank wondered how his brother had learned his whereabouts, but he returned to the letter. “If you dont mind I would appraciate havin Billy meet his uncle. He dont know many relatives, xcept my mother Jane – but she died 1 year back, and theres my sis Caroline.

“We got a old Ford – could me and Billy drive from Port H to Yspalanta and see you? Im off Saturday and Sunday this week, so we could probaly make it Sat by 12. Thank you – your sister-in-law (signed), Jenny

“PS – Please call me at the number below. Its Port H too. PS again – Jacks in Canada.”

As Frank finished the letter, the black wall telephone beside the refrigerator rang. Frowning, he arose and answered it. He heard, “Frank, I knew you’d be there for lunch. What’s up?”

“Mickey Mathews, my pal, how’re you doing today?” He hesitated. “I was having a good day, but I just read a letter from my sister-in-law.”

“Really? I didn’t know you had a sister-in-law.” Mickey’s chuckle came through the wire. “Frank, have you been holding out on us? Patty’s gonna want to hear this news.”

“So will Norma Jean, pal.” Another pause. “Actually, I ought to tell my wife first. Jenny’s the woman’s name, and she’s got a son named Billy. This means my wife’s an aunt … And I’m an uncle. I hope you understand …” Frank’s deep voice trailed off.

“Listen, my friend. That’s no problem.” Speaking in the clipped tones of a Michigan native, Mickey continued: “Today I got a message at the History Department from John Becker, of the FBI’s Detroit Office. We’ve worked with Becker before, but he didn’t say what he wanted.”

He switched subjects. “I’m about to go over to the gym. Why don’t you join me?”

Frank trusted Mickey more than anyone else. “Okay pal. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

The two friends hung up. They could hardly know a new murder mystery loomed like a dark cloud on their horizon.

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