Read Online In Sheep's Clothing by Rett MacPherson - Free Book Online Page A

church, following closely behind Aunt Sissy. The office seemed dark, since we’d just left the brilliant sunshine just seconds before. “Well, Sissy. How are you?” I heard a voice say.
    â€œI’m fine. Lisa, this is my niece, Torie.”
    â€œHi, I’ve heard so much about you.”
    â€œShe’s my brother’s daughter,” she said. “Of course, we just all recently found out he has two daughters.”
    Lisa, a woman of about twenty-five years with bobbed blond hair, raised her eyebrows at that remark.
    â€œVery sweet girl,” Aunt Sissy said.
    â€œWell, are you just sightseeing?” Lisa asked.
    â€œNo, actually,” Aunt Sissy said. “We’re here to see the records.”
    Lisa raised her eyebrows again. “Records?”
    I interjected, finally. “We were wondering if we could see the baptism, marriage, and death records that you may have on file here?”
    â€œFor what year?”
    â€œOh, it would be like … well, when do your records start?”
    â€œThe church was built in 1854. Our records start in 1854.”
    â€œWell, then, I guess, give me the records for 1854 to about 1861,” I said.
    â€œSure,” she said. “Come on.”
    She led us to the back of the office and to a door that connected with the church. It also connected to another door that opened into the basement. Lisa flipped on the light. “You have to forgive us, but we don’t have a whole lot of room.”
    I’ve seen worse basements. This one was dry, with concrete walls and that green plastic turf on the floor for carpeting. The whole room was nothing but filing cabinets. There was a funny smell to the room, even though it seemed to be perfectly dry. Maybe it was just the smell that all basements have, regardless. Except my mother-in-law’s. Hers smelled like Febreze.
    Lisa opened up the top drawer on the first filing cabinet. “Here you go.” Inside were big leather books. One was marked: Marriages 1854–1875 A–M. I found the N–Z book right below it. Below that was births and baptisms. The last one was deaths. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
    â€œAll right,” I said. Lisa walked back up the basement steps to her office and I let out a deep breath. “I don’t even know her name to look up a death record.”
    â€œCan’t you just look under Bloomquist?”
    â€œWell, yeah. But … that doesn’t mean it will be the same person who wrote the novel. Unless…”
    â€œUnless what?”
    â€œUnless it actually gives her father’s name,” I said. “All I can do is look.”
    I pulled out the death registry and scanned the pages. Now, I’m not sure what the official date in Minnesota is, but in most states nobody had to report a birth or a death prior to 1910. In West Virginia, it’s 1917. Therefore, any reports of births or deaths prior to about 1910 in this country were strictly voluntary. There were a lot more reported to the local parishes than one realizes. But fire on the frontier was a serious problem, due to the fact that most of the churches were built out of wood, and so a lot of the records were lost. Plus, trying to find the church that your ancestor attended can be a real problem. And sometimes churches just fell by the wayside or were incorporated into another church, so you never know where your ancestor’s records will end up.
    The point to all this is that as I stood there holding that death registry in my hands, I knew that even if the girl I was looking for had died in this county, between 1854 and 1875, I would only find the record in this book if her parents had voluntarily reported her death. I opened the book and held my breath as I scanned the names. They were not listed alphabetically, but rather by year. Most likely, the names had just been written in this book as the deaths were reported. So I had to read