The Plague Doctor (5 page)

Chapter Nine

The afternoon was beautiful—sunny and warm—with a soft breeze from the south which lifted my hair and kissed my cheeks. High above, little fluffy white clouds scooted across an intense cerulean sky like naughty chicks scurrying home to mama. It was perfect weather, and there were no bars between me and the great outdoors. One hour in a jail cell was more than enough for me. I had left feeling infinitely sorry for Ethan.

Too unsettled to go home just yet, I decided to walk around and sort out my feelings. Ethan's request that I help him was not unexpected. I was already trying to help to some extent. But now that he was really counting on me to solve his problems, I wasn't sure I was up to it.

I tried to explain to him that I was not really a detective—just a writer who seemed to get in the middle of murderous muddles and had to figure her way out. I could not guarantee any results at all. But like others before him, he simply ignored what he called my modesty. He'd brightened like a hundred-watt bulb when I said I would do the best I could.

Damn! Another muddle. Leonard had better put on his thinking cap for this one. It was a dilly.

Rowan Springs had two main streets—one went north and the other south. When they met at the courthouse square, they divided and went east and west as well. It had been a very nifty plan when the town was founded over a hundred years ago. Amazingly enough, it still worked today—with the addition of one or two traffic lights and a four-way stop sign here and there.

The jail, firehouse, and City Hall were on the north side of the square. The pharmacies and clothing stores were on the south side. A barber shop, a beauty shop, and one Tai Chi studio were on the west.

When I was a little girl, I used to shop for groceries with my grandmother at the A&P on the east side of the square. Rowan Springs was still a little country town back then. Farmers brought their wagons to town filled with fresh produce and live chickens and sold them off the tailgate. My grandmother always bought a nice fat hen for Sunday dinner. I usually made a pet of it before we got home and cried all night after she swung it by the neck until the body popped off and went flapping across the backyard. Somehow the violent demise of my new feathered friend never stopped me from devouring the juicy meat off the crispy fried pulley bone after church the next day.

The hitching racks were long gone and so were the grocery stores. They had moved out to the mini-mall on the road to the lakes where there was more parking space.

Once abandoned, the high-ceilinged old stores had been turned into offices for lawyers and accountants. Bruce Hawkins, Mother's lawyer, had been the only one in town to rebel against having an office on “Lawyer's Row.” Instead he had turned the old Capitol Theater into a wonderful art deco homage to the movies he used to love and made his offices there.

I walked around the square lost in reflection and memories. My mind was a hundred years in the past as I admired the wonderful old carvings on the fronts of the buildings.

I did not see the crowd gathering outside of the jail until I rounded the corner of the courthouse. Andy Joiner was standing on the steps in front of his office trying to disperse what appeared to be the beginnings of an unruly demonstration.

I crossed the street and stood behind an obese, middle-aged woman with stringy grey hair. She was waving a homemade placard with the word “feend” misspelled in bright orange letters. I watched in morbid fascination as the flabby fat under her arms swayed grotesquely with her every movement. She noticed me watching her and turned around.

“You got daughters?”

She thrust the placard under my nose and waved it dangerously close to my brand new Ralph Lauren sunglasses.

“That crazy doctor inside the jail is killing our babies. You'd better join us and make your voice heard. We don't want his kind ‘round here—even in jail. He's a monster!”

“How can he hurt you or your daughters if he's in jail?”

“He's a monster, I told you. Has them supernatural powers. Puts spells on people. Makes them do things they don't want to do. That's how he got poor little Brittany Hayes pregnant. Now she's carrying that devil's child.” She ran over to another newcomer to the scene where I heard her repeating the same vicious spiel.

I hurried back to Watson and took the back road out of town.

Mother and Cassie were out in the backyard raking leaves where Aggie was busy rolling around madly in the biggest pile. I shucked my linen jacket, grabbed a rake, and went to join them.

“How's Ethan, dear? Holding up well, I hope?”

“Yes, Mother, and he said to tell you ‘hello.'”

“How nice. I must send him some blackberry cobbler with the next one of you who goes back to town.”

Cassie dragged her pile of leaves behind her to add to Mother's cache.

“What did Ethan want to see you about?”

Cassie looked like a beautiful wood nymph. Her hair was loose and blowing in the wind, with one bright orange leaf caught in the long, dark strands.

I bucked up my flagging spirits and forced a smile.

“He wants me and Leonard—and you two, of course—to find out who killed Hayes and raped his daughter—and get him out of jail.”

“Oh, is that all.” She discovered the leaf and tugged at the stem to free it. “Didn't he send me a message?”

I left the three of them raking, or in the case of Aggie, unraking leaves and headed back to my desk in the library. I could hear Cassie laughing at the antics of the puppy and considered for a moment going back to join them, but no matter how beautiful the afternoon, the truth was, I hated raking leaves. And relaxing on the patio watching them work would earn me no kudos. Besides, Cassie needed the distraction, and I needed her to quit crying herself to sleep. I hoped she would be too tired tonight to waste time on that nonsense.

And I had forgotten to tell them the choice bit of news I had learned: Brittany Hayes had claimed she was pregnant with Ethan's baby when she had been a patient at the Morgantown abortion clinic, long before he'd even arrived on the scene. She had probably cried rape to explain her pregnancy to her family, but why had she put the blame on Ethan? Since I was not positive of all my facts, I decided to keep the information to myself for a while.

From my vantage point behind the big desk in the library, I could watch Cassie and Mother as they crisscrossed over the back yard. After a while, Cassie went down to the carriage house and brought up the John Deere tractor with the wagon attached to the back. Cassie drove the tractor around to each big pile of leaves in turn and stopped while Mother scooped up the debris and loaded it in the wagon. After only a half turn around the yard the wagon was full. Mother climbed in back and hitched a ride down to the dry pond bed where we built our bonfires. They stopped, emptied the wagonload of leaves, and started all over again, with Aggie running round and round the moving tractor and barking maniacally the whole time. I decided the puppy would sleep well tonight also. It looked like I'd be the only night crawler. I was restless and could not get back to work for the life of me.

I shivered and realized that the room had grown a little chilly. My father had grown tired of emptying out ashes and installed some wonderful gas logs in the big open fireplace the year before he died. I pushed the magic plunger and a big beautiful fire appeared.

It was the first fire of the season. Usually we all gathered together for such an occasion, but everybody else was already having too much fun. I had to enjoy something.

I sat on the wide brick hearth for a few moment to warm my rear end, then took up my position behind the desk again. Ethan's computer was still on, and the screen saver—which I had not seen before—slowly moved across the monitor. Big red letters on a hideous purple background repeated over and over again, “ABORTION BUG.”

I shivered again, but not from the cold. For the first time, I realized that there was something really malevolent going on here—something that I did not have a clue about. It was some “thing” that even Ethan did not really understand, yet feared nonetheless. He had managed to transfer that uneasiness to me this afternoon. He had never spoken the words, but I knew he was afraid that I might find what he had been looking for when he came to town. He knew that I would not be prepared. I had never been in a cave in Kinshasa. I would not know a vector if it bit me. And it just might.

Chapter Ten

I fanned the floppy discs out on the desk in front of me and wondered why they were called by that name. They were anything but floppy. There were ten of them in all. I wished I had made a list of the ones I had already scanned. I had been in such a hurry when I had finally figured out Ethan's encrypted password that I had just looked at them helter-skelter. Now I had no idea which ones I had reviewed and which I had not. I would have to start all over again.

I needed to get organized. The computer screen was too small for my organization chart. I needed something larger. I remembered tucking a large piece of cardboard under the bed, thinking I would need it someday. Smart lady. I needed it now.

What I did not know was that someone had let Aggie back inside the house. She was cooling her tummy and taking a nap under my bed. I got the cardboard but I also got a nasty nip from our furry little cobra. Damn dog!

I was in the bathroom putting on some antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid when the police caravan pulled up in the driveway. Two Lakeland County police cars pulled in first and went on around the circle. Another cruiser followed a large unmarked Toyota van with dark tinted windows.

My heart leapt with joy. They were letting Ethan go! But then I saw Chief Joiner open the van door and help him out.

Ethan was handcuffed and shackled. He had to bend over to accommodate the chains. I realized with a sinking heart that he looked exactly like the old man in the storybook.

Cassie was on the tractor, but when she saw Ethan she hopped off and went running to him. When Joiner stopped her before they could embrace, I heard her angry retort without really understanding the words.

Two deputies got out of the first car and stationed themselves at Ethan's side. Cassie stood meekly in front of him with a crooked little attempt for a smile on her face. It was a sad, pitiful scene and mercifully, over in less than three minutes. I didn't even have time to open the window so I could hear what was going on. Joiner helped Ethan back into the van and they all disappeared around the drive in a cloud of gravel dust.

Cassie stood like a statue until Mother tried to put her arms around her, then she shook off the embrace and ran toward the lane and the back field. Aggie had awakened when the cars pulled out of the drive and was now barking furiously as she saw her mistress running off to play without her. She slipped out when I opened the French doors to join Mother and went barreling down the lane in pursuit of Cassie. I found myself hoping a fox would eat her up.

The tractor engine was still running. Mother climbed up in the seat to drive it back down to the carriage house, and I hopped on the back of the wagon and rode down with her.

Honeysuckle vines with their dainty white flowers vied for space with wild berries on the back fence. I reached out and grabbed a couple of blossoms as we drove past. I pulled out the stamens and sipped the tiny drop of incredibly sweet honeysuckle nectar. Too bad there wasn't enough to bottle. Or maybe it was a good thing. Anything that delicious would be overwhelming in large amounts.

We drove down past the dry pond bed and back up to the carriage house. The trees along the lane still had enough foliage to prevent me from seeing Cassie; besides, she was probably halfway to the big pond by now. I wasn't worried for her safety. There were no bogeymen in the woods.

Mother parked the tractor three times before she got it just exactly where she wanted it. When she finally turned off the engine, the silence made my ears ring.

“Wow, I thought you would never stop. What's the matter? Is there a prize for the farm with the best-parked John Deere?”

When she did not answer, I hopped out of the wagon and went forward to the tractor where she remained on the seat.

“What is it, Mother? Are you all right?”

Her face was grim and tight and her eyes were bright with tears.

“They are taking Cassie's young man to Teddyville to the state penitentiary. Andy Joiner was kind enough to let him come and say goodbye.”

I was shocked. The prison in Teddyville had the reputation of being a dreadful place. It was almost a hundred years old. Built of huge limestone rocks, it sat high on a hill in the middle of a narrow peninsula that reached down into the Cumberland River. The area was flooded when the TVA dams were built fifty years ago, and the powers that be in the state penal system had decided that it would make a perfect home for the most incorrigible prisoners. The guards reportedly had
carte blanche
to discipline the men as they chose. There had been more than one charge of brutality made since I had returned to this area a year ago. Why in the world had they sent a man who had not even been tried for his crimes to that awful place?

I helped Mother down from the tractor, and we walked back up to the house as she filled me in with the reason.

“Andy says that a very nasty crowd gathered in town this afternoon in front of the jail. He was afraid he couldn't guarantee Ethan's safety here in Rowan Springs. That's why they moved him.”

She stopped and looked at me, her eyes shimmering.

“Cassandra is devastated. What are we going to do, Paisley?”

A big yellow butterfly danced in front of my face and flew away. Rafe had always believed that butterflies brought bad luck. I could never bring myself to think that anything so beautiful could be a harbinger of misfortune, but it wasn't too late to change my mind.

I squeezed Mother's hand and pulled her toward the patio. The sun was hovering over the horizon, but it was still warmer outside than in the chilly house.

“It's almost time to turn on the furnace.”

“I guess so,” she answered distractedly.

“Look Mother, if Joiner took Ethan to Teddyville, it was the right thing to do. I trust him implicitly. He's a good man. I'm sure Ethan will be all right. I didn't mention it before, but I saw the mob when I was in town. There were some ugly threats being bandied about. Ethan's better off in Teddyville, believe me.”

“I suppose you're right, dear.” She smiled at me. “You usually are.”

I grinned back. “Yeah, except when I'm too cheeky, or too smart-alecky, or too full of piss and vinegar.”

“Paisley!”

“Or cursing,” I added.

The sun sank slowly, leaving the sky awash with a gold and crimson hue. Mother looked look ten years younger in the rosy glow. I hoped I did, too. I was going to need some youthful energy to get us out of this mess.

“I'm starving! What gastronomic delight have you planned for dinner tonight?”

“The truth is…let's go out. My treat.”

“What about Cassie?”

“Oh, you are so right. We can't leave her.”

She looked to the heavens for some inspiration.

“I think I have some flounder in the freezer.”

“Ugh! Frozen fish. Think of something else.”

We had finally given up and gone in the kitchen to peruse the cupboard when we heard Aggie barking. I went out to the porch and unhooked the screen door for Cassie as she wiped her sneakers on the doormat.

“Boy! The lane is muddy. I'd better take off my shoes, Mom. Gran will get mad if I get mud on the kitchen floor. She won't feed me for fussin,' and I'm about to die of hunger. What's for dinner?”

She pushed past me and my open mouth before I could remind her that the puppy's feet were probably muddier than hers. I expected her to return with a face swollen with tears. I thought she might barricade herself in her bedroom for a week—tear her hair and wear sackcloth and ashes. She never ceased to amaze me.

Mother managed to put together a wonderful Welsh Rarebit, something Cassie had never eaten and I remembered only from my childhood. Cassie ate every bite and licked her plate. I watched in amusement as Mother tried her best not to reprimand her granddaughter. Cassie finally burst out laughing.

“Gran, I can't believe it. I thought you would have a cow. You really are getting tolerant in your old age.”

“Humpf.”

I could stand the suspense no longer.

“Okay, Cassie, I give up. How come you're not locked in your room crying like a baby?”

“You said it, Mom, ‘like a baby.' Well, I'm not a baby any more. If Ethan is to get out of this mess, he needs our help. I can't let him down.”

She put her hand over mine. “You aren't going to either, are you, Mom?”

“No darling, of course not.” I smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “I'll do my best.”

“Leonard, too?”

“You can always count on Leonard.”