The Mill River Recluse (34 page)

The little gray mop rolled over on the bed and groaned.

“Fine, you stay inside. I won’t be long, and we’ll have a nice breakfast when I get back. But if you miss seeing a Leprechaun, you’ll be sorry!”

Daisy scrambled into her parka and boots and wrapped a thick scarf around her neck and face. Waiting by the front door to her trailer was a snow shovel, a nine-volt floodlight, and a large metal colander. She gathered them together and ventured outside into the night.

The best place to find fresh wintergreen was in the thicket of trees behind the buildings in the center of town. The snow there was often more shallow than in other areas, and something about the soil, or perhaps the shade of the large spruces and white pines, seemed to help the shrubby wintergreen plants to flourish. Every year, early in the morning on the last day of February, Daisy awoke to pick wintergreen.

She didn’t mind the cold, or the tiny, crystalline flurries that flew at her face. She trudged through the snow, pulling the shovel behind her. It actually stayed atop the snow, making a slight grooved indentation beside her deep footprints. Leaving this trail in the darkness, with the back of her parka spread out behind her against the snow, the little round woman resembled a strange sort of winter snail.

Upon reaching the thicket, Daisy positioned the floodlight on the colander and began to dig. She had to clear two feet of snow before she uncovered a short clump of waxy green leaves. “Oooh,” she squealed to herself, slightly out of breath. She threw down the shovel and stooped down to pick them.

Wintergreen was the primary ingredient in her St. Patrick’s Day potion. Before adding other magic ingredients, she would ferment the fresh leaves for a week in her kitchen to produce a fragrant, minty tea.

In no time, her colander was half-full. She was humming to herself, alternatively shoveling and picking, when she heard a deep, guttural noise from within the thicket. It was unlike anything she had ever heard while gathering wintergreen. Perhaps it was an animal--a bobcat, or maybe a bear? She grasped the snow shovel defensively. The backs of the town buildings were quite close. Surely, a bear would be wary of approaching so near the town.

Daisy took up her floodlight and walked slowly in the direction of the sound. Again, the noise rattled through the darkness, a deep, gurgling growl that sent shivers down her spine. Only a short hill separated her from the final cluster of trees behind the buildings. A little voice inside her head told her to turn back, but she summoned up all of her courage and pressed on. Using the snow shovel for support, she came up slowly over the hill and shined her floodlight directly ahead.

There, squatting against a large pine tree, was a man dressed in black. As the beam of the floodlight washed over him, he opened his mouth and released another enormous belch. Daisy was at once disgusted and relieved. At least it wasn’t a bear.

The man turned to stare at her, but was forced to shield his eyes from the glare of the floodlight. In the split-second she stood watching him, Daisy noticed several empty beer bottles glimmering in the snow. When she saw his black ski-mask, she recognized him immediately.

It was the same man she had seen running away from her burning trailer.

“Oh!” she gasped. Too shocked to scream, Daisy staggered backward, abandoning her shovel. She followed her broken path back through the thicket, snatched up her colander, and continued as fast as she could go until she burst through the front door of her trailer.

Smudgie was waiting for her, now fully awake and wagging happily. Daisy ignored him. She slammed the door and locked it, grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall, and dialed 911.

“Rutland County 911, what is your emergency?” asked a woman in a monotonous voice.

“I’m in Mill River. I need to talk to the police,” Daisy cried into the handset.

“If you’ll tell me what’s wrong, m’am, I’ll try to help you.”

“Please, just let me talk to the police in Mill River.”

“One moment, I’ll transfer you.” Daisy heard a series of clicks and then a man’s voice.

“Mill River police, Officer Wykowski speaking.”

“Officer, Officer, this is Daisy Delaine. There’s a man in black in the woods behind town,” she said, gasping to catch her breath. “It’s the same man I saw when my house burned down in November.”

“Hold up a minute, Ms. Delaine. Are you sure you saw someone?”

“Oh, yes, Officer, and heard him, too. He was drinking and burping. At first I thought he was a bear, but then I saw him burp and realized it was a man.”

“I see.” There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Just out of curiosity, Ms. Delaine, could I ask what you were doing out in the woods at this hour?”

“I was gathering fresh wintergreen for my St. Patrick’s Day potion. It has to be picked on the last day of February, you know, before the sun comes up. After dawn, it loses its magical properties.”

“Ah.” Ron Wykowski was quiet a moment. “Well, I suppose I’ll drive by and have a look,” he finally said. “About where did you say the man was?”

“He was sitting in the woods behind the bakery, or was it the hardware store? He was wearing all black, even a black mask. I ran away once I realized who it was.”

“You say you’d seen the man before...do you have any idea as to his identity?”

“No, Officer. He wasn’t very tall, but he wasn’t really short, either. And I’ve never seen his face.”

“Okay, Ms. Delaine. I’ll swing by and check things out. If you think of anything else, give us a call back.”

“Thank you, Officer, I will.” Daisy hung up the phone and went back to make sure that the door to her trailer was locked. She also lowered the window blinds and pulled the curtains closed. If the strange man in black had followed her home, she would see to it that he couldn’t get inside to hurt her or Smudgie.

~~~

Claudia opened her eyes.

As Kyle shifted beside her, she raised her head to look at his alarm clock. They’d been sleeping for only a few hours, but she felt wide awake.

Is this what being in love does to people’s sleep schedules?
she thought, sliding her arm around Kyle’s waist. She snuggled up against his side, breathed in the delicious scent of him, kissed him lightly on the mouth.

In the dim bedroom, he opened his eyes slowly before he turned to face her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just woke up.”

“What time is it?”

“Some wee hour of the morning.”

“And you just woke up?” Kyle flipped onto his side and pulled her closer.

“Uh-huh. But it’s too early to get out of bed.” Claudia heard his quick intake of breath as she slipped her hand down his boxer shorts.

“You’re right,” Kyle said, nuzzling her cheek. “Much too early.”

~~~

Having that witch find him sitting in the woods was the last thing he needed. At least, it had looked like Crazy Daisy. With the damned floodlight shining in his eyes, he wasn’t positive whom he had seen.

At least no one else had come by.

Warily, Leroy waited in the thicket for a good half-hour after Daisy had stumbled upon him. He had expected her to tattle on him, but no one had driven through the town the entire time he’d been waiting. Wykowski was a pretty serious guy, but if Daisy had called the police station, even he would’ve dismissed her story.

Reassured by the silence, Leroy looked at his watch and saw that it was after two in the morning. His random doodles and choice phrases had thoroughly defaced the back of the bakery. He was feeling better now that he’d had another beer and was no longer breathing paint fumes. It was time to take care of the next part of his plan.

Leroy took his cell phone from his coat pocket and cleared his throat. He smiled as he pressed *6-7 and then 9-1-1.

“Rutland County 911, what is your emergency?”

“Yeah, I’m at 744 Mitchell Road in Mill River,” he said in an artificially low, panicked whisper. “We need the police out here quick. Someone’s in my house, maybe more than one. I heard glass breaking and woke up. I think whoever it is is still downstairs.”

“744 Mitchell Road in Mill River?” the operator repeated. Leroy detected some confusion in her voice. “That address isn’t coming up…are you on a cell phone?”

“Yeah, the landline’s not working,” Leroy said, thinking quickly. Maybe whoever’s downstairs cut the wires. Can you tell the cops to hurry?”

“Yes, sir, I have officers enroute. Would you like me to stay on the line with--”

Leroy hit the “end call” button and slid the phone back into his pocket.

~~~

Ron was wondering whether it was really worth going out into the frigid night to investigate Daisy’s call when the dispatch radio crackled to life.

“Officer Wykowski, this is Rutland County. We have a report of a burglary in progress at 744 Mitchell Road with the possibility of multiple intruders. Do you copy?”

Ron sat up in his chair. Fred Richardson, a longtime resident of Mill River and the town’s only doctor, lived at 744 Mitchell Road.

“That’s an affirmative. I’m on the way.” Ron stood, grabbed his coat and gloves, and bent back toward the radio’s microphone. “RC, could you contact Chief Fitzgerald at his home and apprise him of the situation? He’ll need to arrange for another officer to assist on this, and he might want to be there himself.”

“No problem, Officer Wykowski. We’ll divert other units from Shrewsbury and Proctor if you need additional backup.”

“Thanks, RC, I’ll let you know. Wykowski out.” Ron locked the station door and ran to the Jeep.

~~~

“Who’d be knocking at this hour?” Claudia said, pulling the covers up around herself. A loud pounding at Kyle’s front door continued.

“Oh, crap,” Kyle groaned. He got out of bed and put on a pair of jeans as quickly as he could. “It’s Fitz, I’m sure. Which means that something serious is going down.”

“Aren’t you off duty?” Claudia said, but Kyle had already left the bedroom.

“I’m awful sorry about this,” Fitz said when Kyle opened the front door. The police chief had baggy eyes and was fumbling with the zipper on his coat. “We’ve got a burglary in progress out at Doc Richardson’s. Maybe two or three of ‘em in the house, Doc said. Ron’s on his way now, but he needs backup, and there’s nobody from any other department who can get there faster than we can. I radioed him to let him know we’d meet him at Doc’s place. We can take my truck, and Ruth offered to come stay with Rowen until we get back.”

“No need for that, she’s at a slumber party,” Kyle said. “Just let me grab my gear. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Fitz nodded and started downstairs as Kyle ran back into the apartment.

“What’s going on?” Claudia asked. She had switched on a bedside lamp.

“Burglary,” Kyle said, removing his service revolver from the nightstand drawer. “I’ve got to go help, but it shouldn’t take too long.” He finished dressing, buckled on his duty belt, and slid the revolver into its holder. “Maybe you can keep the bed warm for me?”

Claudia smiled. “Okay, but be careful.”

“Don’t worry,” Kyle said. He leaned over to kiss her. “Everything will be fine.”

Fitz’s truck was just beginning to warm up inside when Kyle climbed into the front seat. “I hope Doc’s okay,” Fitz said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Stuff like this doesn’t usually happen out here.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Old Doc? Years and years. Ever since Ruthie and I moved to Mill River. He was one of the first people we met and he’s been a good friend ever since. His wife and Ruthie are real close.”

“Is Leroy meeting us there, too?”

“Nope,” Fitz said. “He went off shift a few hours ago, but he isn’t home and he didn’t answer his cell. Who knows where he is.”

“I can think of a few places,” Kyle said, and then added cautiously, “You know, maybe it would be better if you just let him go. It seems like he’s getting to be more trouble than he’s worth.”

Fitz snorted. “I’ve come really close, let me tell you. But it’s hard to find anybody willing to work here. We can’t pay what people deserve. We’ve barely got the staff and resources to scrape by, which is why you and I are doing what we’re doing right now.”

Kyle nodded but decided not to prolong the convsersation. Fitz was driving fast, focusing on the curving road ahead of them. The police chief didn’t need any distractions.

~~~

Leroy crouched against the large spruce in back of the bakery until Fitz’s truck had disappeared.

Department policy required at least two, and preferably three, officers to respond to a burglary in progress. As always, Fitz had followed that policy to the letter. The old man was
so
predictable.

Mitchell Road was a winding mountain trail, and the address he’d given the emergency dispatcher was a good five miles from the center of town. With the snow reducing visibility and making the roads slick, it would take the officers at least ten minutes to reach the right house. They’d probably take several more minutes to realize there was nothing wrong and another ten minutes to get back to the station. By his best estimate, he had at least twenty-five minutes to execute the rest of his plan.

Plenty of time.

Leroy reached for the two nearest empty beer bottles and stood them upright in the snow. Next, he lurched to his feet and grabbed the container of gasoline. After the beers, a good dose of paint fumes, and almost an hour in the bitter cold, he was wobbly and seeing double. His hands trembled as he positioned the nozzle of the gas container above the empty bottles. Filling them with fuel was even more difficult. He had forgotten to bring a funnel, and he struggled to hold the container steady as he poured the gasoline. Once the bottles were almost full, Leroy reached into his sack for the old rag.

He ripped the cloth down the middle, twisted one side of each piece into a cylinder, and stuffed the cloths into the mouths of the beer bottles, making sure to leave some of the material hanging outside each glass neck as a fuse.
Just enough
, he thought as he shook the nearly empty gasoline container. He turned it upside-down and watched the last of the gas drip out onto the protruding fabric.