The Mill River Recluse (24 page)

She had been with Kyle. All evening.

He had gone out on patrol earlier in his shift, had driven by her house hoping to catch a glimpse of her through a window. Her car had been in the driveway and her porch light had been on, but the inside of the house had been dark. She usually came home soon after the school day ended and stayed there, running on the treadmill or grading papers or doing
something
until she went to sleep. But tonight, when he had driven by a little after six, she had been gone. He had pulled into the parking lot of St. John’s, behind some trees not even a block from her house, and waited for her to return.

The back-stabbing bastard had actually kissed her, right in front of her house, right in front of him.

Leroy’s left hand was clenched on the steering wheel. He held the cigarette in his right hand, and now he ground it into the ashtray. He had arranged to have two dozen roses sent to Claudia’s classroom tomorrow, as a surprise to mark the beginning of their relationship. But now she was home safe and sound, and he would have bet anyone his last Lucky Strike that tomorrow, when his flowers arrived, she’d think they were from Kyle.

Her panties were in his pocket, as usual, but instead of comforting him, they only fueled the raging jealousy that was spreading slowly up his ribs. He started the Jeep and slammed it into reverse, then knocked the gearshift into drive and sped out of the parking lot. He had a few hours left before his shift ended, and he needed to drive.

The main road out of town had been cleared of most of the snow, but patches of ice remained. Feeling confident in his four-wheel drive, Leroy didn’t care.

Now his bruised ego took over, goading him on, telling him that he could compete with Kyle any day.
He was younger and stronger. He didn’t have to rent a place from his boss, and he wasn’t stuck with a brat
. In fact, when the roses were delivered tomorrow, it would be even more of a surprise when Claudia realized they were from him!

Leroy was just outside Mill River when the Jeep hit a patch of black ice going around a sharp turn. He pulled the steering wheel hard, but the four-wheel drive was useless. The next thing he knew, he was flying up over the snow piled along the edge of the road. A telephone pole loomed up out of the darkness, forced itself into the right-hand side of the engine. He felt a sharp jerk across his chest as his seatbelt locked. There was a pop and a
whoosh
as the airbag inflated, and a nasty stinging sensation as his face smacked into it.

~~~

“What the hell?”

The lights in the Wykowski household flickered. Ron Wykowski bolted up out of his recliner, nearly tripping over the extended footrest before it snapped back into the base of the chair. He punched the remote control in his hand to turn off the television. A tremendous crash sounded as if it had occurred right on the other side of the living room wall.

“Quick, get your coat. I think somebody had an accident,” Jean said, looking out the front window. She didn’t realize that Ron was already on his feet, pulling on his boots. “I can’t see far enough around the house from here, but I’m going to call for help. There might be people hurt.”

Jimmy and Johnny came tearing into the living room. “Mom, Dad, a police officer crashed outside!” Jimmy said.

“We can see the lights flashing from the window in our room,” Johnny explained. “I think it’s the Jeep from the department.”

“You boys stay inside,” Ron told them, causing a little of the excitement to leave their faces. He glanced down at his watch as he headed out the door. “Must be Leroy. Kyle’s not on ‘til eleven.”

Ron came trudging around the house just as Leroy pushed open the front door of the Jeep. The telephone pole in front of the Wykowski house was forced deep into the hood of the vehicle. No siren was sounding, but red and blue lights swirled and flashed atop the dashboard.

Leroy swung his legs out of the Jeep, tried to stand, wobbled, and collapsed into the deep snow just as Ron reached him.

“Leroy, can you hear me? Say something if you’re conscious.”

Leroy struggled to sit up. His face was reddish and rasped in a few places where it had met the airbag. “I’m dizzy. And my ankle hurts like a bitch.”

“Jean called for help as soon as we heard the crash. Should be someone here soon. Let’s get you up out of the snow.” He helped Leroy back into the front seat of the Jeep. “What happened? Did you hit ice coming around the turn?”

“Uh, yeah, I think,” Leroy said. “I tried to swerve the other way but the wheels wouldn’t stay on the road.”

Jean came breathlessly around the Jeep. “An ambulance is on the way. Are you hurt, Leroy?” she asked.

“Not bad,” he said. He appeared less dazed now, and began to sound more like his usual self. “Just my left ankle. I twisted the other one yesterday morning, and now this one. I may as well be a damned cripple.”

“Let me see,” Jean said. She squatted down in front of him and, as gently as she could, removed his boot. “Can you move it at all?” she asked, and Leroy gingerly rotated his ankle in her hand.

“Good,” she said. “Now see if you can push against my hand.” Leroy did this as well. Jean carefully felt all around his foot and then lowered it. “You’ve got good movement even though it’s a little swollen. I don’t think it’s broken, but you shouldn’t try to walk on it until you get it x-rayed.”

Leroy grunted and leaned sideways against the back of the seat. The deployed airbag drooped out of the center of the steering wheel, and he brushed it away.

Jean was watching him. “Without that and your seat belt, you probably would’ve broken your neck,” she said. “A lot of the paralyzed people I take care of weren’t nearly as lucky as you.”

Annoyed at her lecture, Leroy looked away and grunted again.

An ambulance arrived a few minutes later, carefully pulling over near the place where the Jeep had skidded off the road. Assisted by Ron and one of the paramedics, Leroy made his way over to the ambulance.

“I’ll follow you into Rutland, Leroy,” Ron said. “I need to fill out a report on this, anyway, and you’ll need a ride back from the hospital.”

“Naw, that’s all right,” Leroy said. “I’m not really hurt. They’ll probably just give me a check-up and send me home, so there’s no sense in you coming too.”

“Well, maybe it would be better if I took care of the Jeep,” Ron said. “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

“My sister lives right outside Rutland City. You could let her know, I suppose, and I’ll just have her give me a lift when they’re done with me.” Leroy paused as he craned his neck up to get one last look at the damaged police vehicle. “You could call the Chief for me, too, and tell him about the Jeep. I know he’s gonna go off on me when he finds out. Maybe he’ll go easier on me if you tell him first.”

Ron glanced behind him at his wife, rolling his eyes, and turned back toward the ambulance. “Sure, I’ll get hold of Fitz. And I’ll call Kyle and see if he can come in early to cover the rest of your shift.”

“Yeah, okay,” Leroy said, just before the emergency medical technician shut the back doors of the ambulance.

“Fitz’ll have his head in the morning,” Ron said to Jean, leaning against the damaged Jeep. “This is the only four-wheel drive we’ve got, and it looks totaled to me.”

“Well, I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,” Jean said. “He could’ve hit someone coming the opposite direction. If the pole hadn’t stopped him, he might’ve come through our house!”

“He must’ve been doing at least fifty when he hit the ice.” Ron shook his head. “Leroy drives like a maniac. I guess he was bound to do something like this before long.”

“C’mon, let’s go inside and call a tow truck,” Jean said. “The kids are probably dying to know what happened, and I’m freezing my buns off.”

~~~

The next morning, Father O’Brien awoke at six. It was still dark outside, and he shivered as he dressed in the chilly parish house. Even after he put the heat up, he couldn’t seem to get warm. He imagined the hot coffee that would be brewing down at the bakery, and the sweet, cozy smell of cinnamon and pastry, and almost felt better. He often hankered for a slice of tart cherry pie. Now, the thought of the warm filling in Ruth Fitzgerald’s flaky piecrust was all it took for him to go to the closet for his coat.

He arrived at the bakery at seven, just as Ruth was turning the “CLOSED” sign to “OPEN.” She smiled and held the door for him.

“Morning, Father. Haven’t seen you in here for a while!” she said. Her hair was pulled neatly back into a bun, and the large apron she wore was speckled with flour and bits of dough. The warm air that rushed out past him was rich with the scent of baking. “I’m awfully sorry about Mrs. McAllister. Fitz told me what happened.”

“Thank you, Ruth. It’s been a busy few days, and it hasn’t been easy. But when I woke up this morning, all I could think about was hot coffee and cherry pie.”

She laughed and went behind the counter. “Well, you’re in luck. I took one out of the oven about a half-hour ago, and it’s just now about cool enough to cut.”

“It must have summoned me over here,” he said, winking at her. “I’ll just take my usual table, then.” He started over toward a small table by the front window.

“There’s today’s paper over there on the counter,” she said, handing him a fresh cup of coffee. “I’ll bring your pie over to you in just a minute.”

He nodded and went over to the small table, taking the newspaper from the counter as he passed. Other people were beginning to trickle in now, mostly to pick up muffins and Danish for breakfast, or to fill Thermos bottles with coffee. He sighed and opened the paper, although it could barely be called that. The Mill River Gazette came out three times a week, on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, usually containing the police blotter, obituaries, and perhaps an article or two. But the news was so slow in Mill River that most issues seemed to contain more advertising than anything else.

“Hullo, Father, nice to see you,” said Fitz, setting a large piece of cherry pie in front of him. “You been holding up all right since Sunday?”

“Fitz! I didn’t see you come down,” Father O’Brien said, setting down the paper. The bakery was busy now, and people were milling around the counter. “Sure, I’m all right.” This wasn’t exactly true, he thought to himself as he remembered Sunday morning, but he supposed he was doing as well as could be expected. “You’re off to the station, I guess?”

“Yep, and I’m not looking forward to it, either. I guess you haven’t heard about the wreck last night?” Father O’Brien’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head. “Well,” Fitz continued, “I got a call at a little after nine last night. Leroy’d taken the Jeep out on patrol, hit a patch of ice out by Ron Wykowski’s house, and smashed into a utility pole.”

“Oh, my,” Father O’Brien said. “Was he hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle, and a few scrapes on his face.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Yes,” Fitz said, but his expression came very close to contradicting his response. “Anyhow, the Jeep’s totaled. Don’t know exactly what we’ll do now, because that was our only four-wheel-drive, you know. And it was old. The insurance payout won’t be nearly enough for a new one. I’ve heard the state sometimes auctions used cars to other state or county agencies, and there’s an auction in a few weeks. I’ll go up to Montpelier and see if they’ve got anything we can afford. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Father O’Brien nodded, and his mind was racing. He thought of the list in his coat pocket. The situation was perfect, but he needed to act quickly. “Everything will work out in the end, Fitz, I’m sure of it,” he said to the police chief, who smiled in return.

“If you say so, Father, I’ll try not to worry. I suppose stranger things have happened in this little town.” Fitz was pulling on his gloves. “I’ve got to get going,” he said, heading for the door. “Enjoy your pie.”

“Will do,” Father O’Brien said. He finished the pie quickly, along with his coffee. When no one was looking, he slipped the teaspoon he had used to stir his coffee up his sleeve. It would be one more to add to the box in his office. The usual guilt was there, but today, he didn’t have time to deal with it. He had something more important than spoons to worry about. Waving goodbye to Ruth, he put on his coat and braced himself for the cold outside.

Chapter 16

As the Allies struggled to push Hitler’s forces out of Nazi-occupied territory, Mary fought her own private battles against her anxiety.

She had no guests other than Conor and Father O’Brien. Eventually, gasoline rationing forced Conor to curtail his trips to Mill River. He managed to see her once in a while, but they took to writing letters as their primary means of communication.

Alone much of the time, even Mary’s occasional attempts to greet the postman ended in fits of trembling and panicked disorientation. She allowed Betty, the hired help, to continue to do the shopping so long as the girl quickly deposited the groceries on her doorstep and left. On V-J day, September 2, 1945, she put on her best dress and eye patch but remained in the marble mansion, cheering silently from her bedroom window as the little town celebrated the war’s end with a victory parade. She succumbed to her isolation, clinging to society only through letters from her Grandpop and visits from Father O’Brien, the news and music on her radio, and the sight of Mill River from her bedroom window.

Mary loved that view most of all. She watched Mill River on crisp, bright mornings, during the noonday rush of things, at twilight as its few streetlights winked on. It didn’t matter that, standing in her home high above the town, she was far removed from the small cluster of buildings and the main road that parted them. Nor did it matter that she knew none of the people who walked up and down the sidewalks each day. Regardless of her affliction, she was a part of Mill River, and the town was a part of her--a steady, calming presence that never changed.

~~~

Keeping his promise to Conor, Father O’Brien stopped by the marble mansion at least twice a week. The young priest came by every Wednesday evening and after Mass on Sundays, when he often stayed for lunch and a horseback ride.