Read Barbara Levenson - Mary Magruder Katz 03 - Outrageous October Online
Authors: Barbara Levenson
Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Lawyer - Romance - Vermont
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I was packed up and ready to hit the road by six the next morning. Mother and Dad were outside in their robes to wave me off. I had a complete picnic lunch prepared by Mother and Dad’s parting hug and advice. “It’s good that you found out about that
schtunck
Carlos. You’ll find a nice Jewish boy, a beautiful girl like you.”
I had mapped out my itinerary to include a stop in South Carolina with my cousin, Celeste, daughter of mother’s sister, Faith. Celeste lived in the low country in a small town whose claim to fame was the largest Baptist Church in the area with a steeple that could be seen for miles, considering the flatness of the area.
Celeste’s parents were killed in a traffic accident a few years ago in Haiti where they were serving as missionaries. For some reason, Celeste felt the need to continue their church work. Celeste’s husband was a “born again” preacher and Celeste ran the day school at the church.
We hadn’t seen each other for a few years. I was shocked to see beautiful Celeste turned into an overweight, frumpy woman who looked ten years older than her real age of forty. It was just an overnight visit, but there was enough time to see that Celeste still was beautiful under the extra weight.
As we sat and talked late in the evening, I asked the question that my mother would have asked and I was surprised to hear myself prying into Celeste’s life. “Is your life turning out the way you had imagined it? Are you happy with your marriage?”
Celeste looked down at her hands and turned the plain gold band on her ring finger. I had a flashing thought of the rock of a ring I no longer possessed while I waited for Celeste to say something.
“The reason I asked,” I said, “is that I remember one summer when I was fourteen and you were nineteen or twenty. I was visiting Aunt Faith and you came home from summer school. You told your folks that you wanted to be an actress. I think you had the lead in a musical at your college. You looked so glamorous. Your parents threw a fit. You said you were going to New York as soon as you had enough money. Do you remember that?”
“Oh, yes, we fought on and off for the rest of the summer.”
“So what happened? That’s why I was asking if you were happy, because I just broke off a relationship. I guess I’m just trying to see my disappointments in comparison to how you’ve coped with yours.”
“Those silly teenage dreams were just that. I grew up. No marriage is perfect, if that’s what you’re asking, but Lincoln and I have so much in common. We are always busy with our parish members and their children and problems, and we’re planning for a mission in a year to carry on the work of Mom and Dad.”
“I wondered why you didn’t pursue the driver who caused that accident. Mother was so horrified losing her sister. She and Aunt Faith were very close in spite of their different life styles. I know she was hoping you would pursue some court action.”
As I spoke, I saw Celeste looking behind me. I turned to see Lincoln standing in the doorway. He frowned at us.
“I’m sorry, Lincoln, were we keeping you up?” I asked.
“Please, don’t come breezing into our home, filling Celeste’s head with all your lawyer talk. It was God’s will that took her parents. The courts are an ugly place. I don’t want my wife upset. Nothing she can do will bring them back. Celeste, shouldn’t you be coming to bed? It’s late, and I know Mary will want to get an early start.” Lincoln stared at me.
“Of course, I’ll be leaving early tomorrow,” I assured Lincoln. I hugged Celeste and Sam and I headed for the tiny guest room behind the kitchen.
How could my cousin stand to be bullied by Lincoln?. One more reason I was glad I wasn’t married. You can erase an errant boyfriend by letter, but getting rid of the wrong choice in spouses might take a lifetime.
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The drive to South Carolina had taken nine hours and I did not have a restful night thinking about Celeste and Lincoln and the death of Aunt Faith,
I had no set agenda for the second day. I decided to make some stops in Virginia and Pennsylvania to see some of the Civil War monuments. By the time I reached Gettysburg, the day was nearly gone. Sam and I found a dog-friendly motel. After checking in and examining our clean but Spartan room, I decided to haul Sam’s crate into the room, although I was sure he’d opt for sleeping on the bed. I gave him a heaping bowl of his favorite chow and then we took a leisurely walk along the street filled with fast food joints, and tourist shops with tee shirts touting “See Historic Gettysburg” and pictures of Honest Abe.
I took Sam back to our motel room and secured him in his crate. After a quick face wash and a clean shirt, I prepared to get some people chow for me. I rummaged in the overnight bag for a sweater. As we drove north, the weather had begun to change. We left the heat and humidity behind. It was early October but Pennsylvania was swept with the cool breeze that ushers in autumn and hints at winter. It felt amazingly refreshing, like it was blowing away all my problems.
I left the TV blaring in case Sam decided to howl over being left behind. Sam was a good traveling companion. He hadn’t complained about the accommodations at Celeste’s. He didn’t offer any negative opinions about my choice of motel. Well, who needed a spouse when a girl has a great German Shepherd for company?
Walking back down the tourist street, I spotted the Chamber of Commerce office and ventured in for advice about what to see in the morning. I found maps and brochures for self-guided tours of the battlefield and directions to a Gettysburg museum. Armed with my reading material and directions to an honest-to-goodness diner, I was feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time.
Two hours later, I returned to the motel food logged from pot roast and real apple pie, made by an Amish farmer’s wife in the area. I expected to hear howls of welcome from Sam. Instead I found the door to my room ajar and a broken door hanging abruptly to the side of Sam’s crate. What I didn’t find was Sam.
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Panic enveloped me. I felt like I was having a nightmare but I was wide awake. My first instinct was to call Carlos and ask what he thought I should do. I had gotten into the habit of relying too much on him whenever bad events came my way. Now I realized that I would be relying on myself. The feeling of loss enveloped me. There was no more Carlos in my life and now I’d lost Sam.
I walked completely around the motel, yelling “Sam, come” to no avail. I went to the front office, but the desk clerk who looked all of sixteen years old, was busy talking on her cell phone and glared at me for interrupting her.
“I haven’t seen no dog. The rules say, keep your dog confined at all times.”
She turned back to her cell phone.
I walked up and down the route that I had walked with Sam just a few hours ago. It was completely dark now and the street was only two blocks from the Interstate. I kept yelling for Sam. The wind carried my voice away. I stopped the few people still walking about. No one had noticed a large German Shepherd. Sam would be hard to miss.
I leaned against one of the stores and called again. Guilt over dragging Sam and me a thousand miles from home overwhelmed my ability to think what to do next. I felt hot tears start down my cheeks. Just then a police car pulled up to the curb.
“Everything okay, Miss?” One of the cops leaned out the window to ask.
“No, I’ve lost my dog,” I said. I walked over to the cop car. Why hadn’t I thought about contacting the police?
“I left him in his crate at the motel a few blocks from here and went to dinner. When I got back, he had broken out. I’m so afraid he’s been stolen or gotten hurt or something. We’re from Miami and he doesn’t have any idea where to go,”
I paused for breath and heard, “Is he a very big German Shepherd?”
“Yes, have you seen him?”
“No, but we got a report a little while ago. Someone has him. He wandered into a restaurant near here. Hop in and we’ll take you over there.”
So that’s how I happened to be riding in the back seat of a squad car in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, in the space usually reserved for prisoners. I hardly noticed the drunk snoring gently in the seat next to me. In a minute, we pulled up outside the diner with the delicious pie. We all got out, except for the drunk. I opened the door to the diner and Sam threw himself on me, knocking me into the cop who I could now see was a cute young guy. He took his time picking me up and standing me in front of the owner who was patting Sam.
“No need to ask for proof that he’s yours,” Mrs. Gallogly, the owner, said. “Come on back here, all of you, while I get some pie and coffee for you.”
“Sam, you bad boy,” I said as I hugged my dog.
“That’ll teach him,” the young cop said.
“But he found the place I went for dinner. I forgot that German Shepherds are great tracking dogs.” I couldn’t stop hugging Sam.
We all sat down in a booth and Sam and I had a new bunch of friends.
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The next day was spent looking at the history of the Civil War. Miami has very little history. When a building reaches thirty years or so, it’s considered ancient and is promptly torn down in favor of the newest fad in architecture. Our real historic background in south Florida resides in the lore of the Seminole Indian Tribes that once inhabited all of South Florida. Our other claim to a history is the art deco buildings of South Beach which aren’t really old at all. Viewing real history whet my appetite for more.
I kept Sam close by and started the next leg in our journey by midafternoon. My father’s brother’s daughter lived in Elkins Park, a suburb of Philadelphia. Uncle Max’s daughter, Madeline, and I grew up together in Miami Beach. We were close in age and shared friends, family, and school until Madeline won a full scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania. She graduated with an MBA, found a husband from Philadelphia where they both have jobs in banking or finance or one of those fields based on numbers.
Madeline also has two children, Nancy aged seven, and Martin aged nine. She has the suburban house to go with the husband, job, and kids.
I pulled into the long driveway lined with a tall privet hedge. The house was an English Tudor model. It fit the rolling landscape and looked like the set in the movie
The Philadelphia Story
.
A Lexus SUV pulled in behind me. Two kids and Madeline spilled out and rushed over to my car.
“Have you been sitting out here long? My God, I was sure I’d beat you here. Soccer practice was too long.” Madeline practically yanked me out of the car and hugged me hard. She was still dressed in her dark work suit and heels. The years between us slipped away and we began to gab as if high school just ended.
Nancy and Martin grabbed Sam’s leash and led him onto the lawn where they all proceeded to roll around in the grass. So began forty-eight hours of pure fun for Sam and me. The overnight stop stretched into two nights and by the time I was loaded back into the Explorer with Sam now occupying the front passenger seat, I felt full of good food, good conversation, and a brighter outlook.
“Remember,” Madeline said as she leaned into my car window, “You’ll know who the right guy is when he comes along, but anyway you can take care of yourself. You always have.”
As I headed to the interstate, my mind swirled around my two cousins. They were so different; a reflection of the differing backgrounds of my parents. Somehow Hope Magruder and Abe Katz had melded those differences into a successful family life for my brothers and me. I wondered if Carlos and I could have done as well. That led me to think about Carlos’s many cousins, but I knew I had to put everything about Carlos out of my mind and move ahead.
“We’re moving on,” I said to Sam. “Next stop is High Pines, Vermont, Lucy’s house, and real peace.”
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Sam and I were finally on the last hundred miles to High Pines. I slowed our pace as we crossed into Vermont. The further north I drove, the more riotous the leaf colors became, ranging from deep scarlet to orange and yellow.
Each side of the road looked as if Chagall had painted canvases on the landscape. We stopped at a rest area high on a hillside. I took numerous photos with my phone and Sam took care of his dog business. We breathed the fresh brisk air. The thermometer on the dashboard read 55 degrees. When we pulled out of Miami, it had read 89. I told Sam he shouldn’t have shed so much coat which now covered much of the interior of the Explorer. He answered by shivering.
I decided to check in with Catherine before we got back on the road, but all I got was “out of service area.” Lucy warned me that the mountains cut off transmission from the few cell towers in the state. It wasn’t a tragedy not being bothered by cell phone interruptions. I realized I was not homesick for the stress of court appearances, traffic, excessive heat. However, I couldn’t rationalize that I wasn’t missing Carlos. A month ago, I would have called him to share the scenery I was observing.
I urged Sam back into the car. The sun was getting lower in the sky. We needed to move on. Soon it would be hard to follow Lucy’s strange directions. “When you near the village, take the turn under the covered bridge. Stop at the general store for groceries. Then proceed through the village past the golf course. Keep following the river until you come to the third dirt road. It winds up a hill and you won’t see anything but woods. Then you’ll come to a meadow. Ahead of you will be a driveway. Turn there and the house will be at the top of the hill. The caretaker will have the house unlocked. I instructed him to leave some lights on for you. Hardly anyone locks up their houses, so don’t worry about carrying keys around, if the caretaker leaves any keys for you.”
“Don’t these roads have any names?” I had asked Lucy. “Aren’t there street signs?”
“Everyone knows the names of the roads, so why would signs be needed?” Lucy laughed. “You’ll see how easy it is.”
We did as directed. The climb up the main road led us to the High Pines Village Green. It was green alright; an oval of inviting grass surrounded by shimmering hills. The general store and post office were really white clapboard houses facing the green.
“We were just about to close,” the man behind the counter said glancing at his watch. His long frame was wrapped in a white apron which said “Welcome to the Upper Valley.” A name tag pinned to the apron told me he was Hal.
“Hi, Hal, I’m Lucy Stern’s friend from Miami. I’m on my way up to her house to spend a week or so. Sorry to keep you from closing.” I sniffed the great smells in the little store. “Boy does it smell delicious in here.”
Hal came out from behind the counter and extended his hand. “So you’re Mary. Al Shields told us to expect you. He’s got Lucy’s place all ready for you. We’ll get you squared away with some supplies. I do the baking and cooking here early every morning so you can stop by for coffee and cinnamon rolls anytime. I’ve got some left so I’ll just box those up for you, and some of this carrot soup I made fresh today. Hal started loading bags and boxes just as a round white-haired woman came in through a side door. She had rosy cheeks and wore a long skirt and what looked like a hand crocheted sweater.
“Margaret, this is Mary, Lucy’s friend. We’re just getting her ready to go up to the house.”
“We’ve heard all about you. You’re the lady lawyer from Miami. Welcome. Where’s that dog I heard you were bringing?” Margaret extended her hand and gave me a firm handshake. “I run the post office right next door. Will you be getting mail while you’re here?”
“Probably not. The dog’s in the car. Thanks for asking,” I said. I couldn’t believe these people knew more about me than some of my neighbors in Miami did.
“I’ll help you get these packages loaded in your car. I don’t mean to rush you, but you still have a bit of a ride ahead and it’s almost dark out. The roads are pretty dark up here and you don’t want to meet a deer or a moose. They can do you a lot of damage.”
Hal and Margaret followed me out to the SUV and loaded the groceries They both patted Sam. Hal gave him a doggy treat which Margaret said she baked herself. They pointed me back to the River Road, and we were underway again.
As the darkness quickly settled over us, I realized just how far I was from my comfort zone. I knew how to cope with rude drivers who signaled left and turned right. I knew to count two cars after the light turned green before venturing through an intersection. Those were Miami rules. I wasn’t prepared to watch for deer and moose and to find my way through a maze of dark roads that contained neither lights nor signs.
“Well, Toto. It looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore.” I said to Sam quoting my favorite
Wizard of Oz
saying. The road was a series of sharp twists and turns. Once I almost hit a tree. Thank goodness there was hardly another car in sight. I counted the dirt roads that came into view as I passed them.. I missed the third road. With no one else in sight, I backed up and took the turn. Trees loomed over the car on both sides of the narrow gravel road. The friendly village seemed more like a horror movie. My heart was pumping hard as I climbed to the top of the hill. Suddenly the white farmhouse loomed in front of us. A gravel driveway led to the side and stopped in front of a red barn. A wooded area stretched from the left side of the house. A deck or a porch hugged the front and sides of the house. A row of rocking chairs dotted the porch.
Lights shone through the front windows. Sam jumped out and followed me to the front door. It was unlocked just as Lucy had said. We walked into a large living room. The stone fireplace that dominated the room welcomed us with the heady aroma of a wood fire. I warmed my hands for a minute while Sam eyed the fire with suspicion.
We walked through the dining room that contained a mahogany table and eight chairs. Through a swinging door we found the kitchen. A butcher block table was set for one with a glass of red wine in front of the checkered placemat.
“What a great caretaker the Sterns have. He’s thought of everything to make us feel welcome,” I said to Sam who had begun sniffing the floor for any hidden crumbs of food. “You must be hungry, Sam. Wait here,” I said.
I returned to the Explorer and began to unload, starting with Sam’s dish and food bag. I filled the dish and led Sam out the back door. Sam ate on the concrete stoop while I sat on the steps leading to a backyard or meadow. It was too dark to see more than a few feet. Then I saw twinkling lights and realized that I was looking out into the valley. I couldn’t wait to see the whole view in the morning.
After several trips to unload the car, I began to walk through the other rooms on the first floor. There was a bedroom and bath at the end of a long corridor. It had a luggage rack and some fresh towels stacked in the bathroom. I decided this must be the guest room and dropped my suitcase on the rack.
Back in the kitchen, I unpacked the groceries from the general store. There was a newspaper tucked into one of the bags. The Valley News said its banner. I warmed the soup and unpacked a sandwich. While I dined on the delicious food and drank the dry perfect wine, I thumbed through the paper. There was a calendar of events and places to visit; a hike through a Gorge called the little Grand Canyon, a bird sanctuary, a flea market on Sunday. It all sounded peaceful.
On the front of the local section a story caught my eye. “Nearing the first anniversary of the murder of a matriarch and still no killer is found. Carolyn Brousseau’s killer still at large.” The story outlined a bizarre murder of a woman in her own home. Lucy said nothing much ever happens up here. She must have missed this.
My stomach was full. Now I began to feel a little restless, so I whistled for Sam and we began to explore the rest of the house. I thought I’d check out some television, but there wasn’t a TV on the whole first floor. This surprised me since Lucy had kids. Well, good for the Sterns, I thought. They must want the children to enjoy nature without interruptions from cartoons and Play Station.
There was a telephone on a table in the long hall. I picked up the receiver but it was disconnected. I thought Lucy had told me the land line in the house was operative. I must have misunderstood. I went back in the bedroom and tried my cell phone but all I got was “out of service area.” The peaceful feeling of a few minutes ago receded and I wondered what I would do if there was an emergency and here I was with no phone in a strange house, in a strange place.
Sam and I went up the steep steps adjacent to the living room. There was another flight of steps behind the kitchen. I though how much fun Lucy’s kids must have hiding and chasing each other from the front stairs to the back. It made me wish I was a kid again.
There were four bedrooms and two more bathrooms. Everything looked as if the original furnishings of Lucy’s grandmother were in place: flowered wallpaper, patchwork quilts, chenille bedspreads, maple furniture. I was surprised Lucy hadn’t redecorated.
Inside one of the bedrooms we came to a door with a step in front of it. I tried the door but it was locked. Sam growled a low growl at first and then an excited bark. The hair on his back stood up. He looked exactly like he does when he spies a squirrel in the backyard.
“Come away Sam. It must lead to an attic or storage room. You probably smell a mouse or something worse like a rat or a possum.”
I dragged Sam away and down the back steps. The wine and the drive made me sleepy so I quickly unpacked the suitcase, shut the bedroom, door and hit the bed. I pointed to the rug beside the bed but Sam leaped on to the bed and settled down. Just as I dozed off we heard a loud bump. Sam went into full bark mode. We walked back to the kitchen, listened at the back door, and checked the living room. All was quiet, so once again I hit the bed. The next thing I knew sunlight streaked through the open window.