The Stone of Sadness (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 3) (14 page)

“It’s nice to meet you,” Olivia said shaking Mrs. Martin’s hand.

A young man delivered two plates of pasta, salad, and a French roll to the woman and the priest. They thanked the young man profusely.

“Olivia, can we share our meal with you?” Father Mike asked.

“Oh, thank you, but I’ve eaten way too much today already,” Olivia told him.

Mrs. Martin picked at her meal. “Father Mike tells me you were cousin to Mary Monahan and her daughter.”

Olivia nodded and told her that she never knew of them until she found the newspaper reporting the murders.

“A sad event in the history of our town,” said Mrs. Martin.

“Did you know Mary and her daughter?” Olivia asked.

“Not well. But she and her family attended church here and I knew who the family was.” She took a small bite of her roll and shook her head. “Long, ago. But the feelings seem fresh.”

“True,” Father Mike said. “I hadn’t thought about the crime for so long…and then when Olivia asked me about it, I was surprised how emotions flooded back.”

“Things changed here because of the murders,” Mrs. Martin said. “Before the killings we were so easy-going. But after that we all locked our doors. We worried who the murderer could be. It made us suspicious of others.” She sighed. “I made my son tell me where he was going and who he was with.”

Father Mike nodded.

“I would feel the same way,” Olivia said. “I’d want to know where my child was every minute.”

“But it ends up that the natural events of the day are the real dangers,” Mrs. Martin said.

Olivia wondered what she meant.

“Unfortunately,” Father Mike said. He touched her shoulder.

“It’s been almost forty years that James passed,” Mrs. Martin continued.

When she heard Mrs. Martin’s comment, Olivia’s brain made the connection. James. James Martin. Angela Bradford told her that Emily dated James Martin after Kenny Overman left town.

“James was your son?” Olivia asked.

“Yes.” She paused. “He suffered an accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Martin pushed the pasta around her plate. “He drowned in our backyard pool.”

“How terrible,” Olivia said.

A middle aged woman came over to Father Mike and whispered something into his ear.

“Would you ladies excuse me for a moment? Martha, are you all right sitting here for a bit?”

“Yes, Mike. Go ahead. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be here,” Olivia said.

The middle aged woman helped Father Mike remove himself from the picnic table, handed him his cane and took hold of Mike’s arm as they moved toward the recreation hall.

Mrs. Martin went on talking about the accident. “It was just over a year after the Monahans were killed that James drowned. I wondered if there was some curse put on our little town. How could two such terrible events happen in Howland? That’s what I wondered.”

Olivia nodded.

“And, poor Emily.” Mrs. Martin looked up from her plate. “That poor girl. Emily Bradford. Have you heard her name as you talk to people in town? She dated the young man who was considered a suspect in the Monahan murders.”

“Yes,” Olivia said. “In fact, Emily met with me to give her impressions.”

“A lovely woman. After the murder suspect left Howland, Emily and James started to date. I hoped it would lead to something eventually. Emily was there the night James drowned. She had gone into the house to use the bathroom and when she went back outside he was at the bottom of the pool. She tried to get him out.” Mrs. Martin put her fork down. “I don’t think poor Emily ever recovered. I know I haven’t.”

“It must have been a terrible shock,” Olivia told her.

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Martin looked off into the distance. “It’s odd. I had an odd feeling that evening. Maybe it was a premonition of what was to come.”

“A premonition?”

“My husband and I were to attend a function in Boston that night. James and Emily were sitting by the pool. They had used the grill to cook burgers for dinner. I was going to let them know we were leaving and say goodbye to them. When I entered the screen room off our kitchen…it overlooked the pool area…I could hear Emily crying. I stopped, wondering if I should go out to them or just leave them be. They seemed to be arguing over something. I didn’t want to intrude on them so I went back in the house. We left for Boston without saying goodbye.” Mrs. Martin’s eyes were filled with sadness. “I should have said goodbye.”

Olivia wanted to say something comforting but was unsure of what might help. “You didn’t know what would happen.”

Mrs. Martin gave Olivia a sheepish smile. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, dear. But when Father Mike brought up the Monahans, and it being this time of year, all those thoughts rushed into my head.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia said. “I understand.” Olivia didn’t want Mrs. Martin to feel badly that she had talked about her son’s accident, so Olivia asked, “Have you kept in touch with Emily?”

“Oh, my, she has been very helpful to me. My husband and I divorced about a year after James’ passing. We both had to deal with our grief. We handled it in different ways. We weren’t there for each other and we grew apart.”

“I’m sorry.” Olivia didn’t really know what to say and felt inadequate murmuring such useless phrases.

“Emily visits me now and then. Calls me.” Mrs. Martin leaned closer. “She has been very helpful to me financially.”

Olivia was surprised. “That’s very kind of her.”

“I told her that it was unnecessary. That I could manage. But the truth is I would struggle without her help. I’m very grateful to her.” Mrs. Martin’s voice was wistful. “She would have made a lovely daughter-in-law.”

“Do you know what Emily and James were arguing about that night?”

“When I was in the screen room that evening I thought I heard them talking about the Monahans. That’s what I meant by a premonition…thinking they were discussing the Monahans made me feel that something bad was going to happen. Whatever it was, Emily sounded angry and upset. Almost, hysterical. That’s why I stayed inside and didn’t go out to them.” Mrs. Martin sipped her water. “I asked Emily about it once. She brushed it aside. She said they had been drinking and that a minor thing got overblown. She said the argument was nonsense.”

Olivia nodded. “Most arguments are.” Olivia wondered why Emily and James would be discussing the Monahans and if they
were
talking about them, what could have caused Emily to be so upset?

Olivia noticed Father Mike tottering over to them.

“Everything okay?” he asked as he sat down.

“We had a chat.” Olivia smiled.

“She is very pleasant company,” Mrs. Martin told Father Bill.

“I guess I’ll go find my friends now,” Olivia said. “It was nice to see you Father Mike. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Martin.” They shook hands.

As Olivia made her way to the back field, she wondered how on earth a tractor pull could keep two grown men’s attention for so long.

Olivia, Brad and Joe took bikes to the rail trail after the church festival and completed a fifteen mile ride partly because they were guilty for all the eating they did at the church. When they returned to the house, Joe and Brad took Lily for a walk while Olivia made beef and veggie tacos for dinner. She made Spanish rice and a green salad to go with them. The guys and the dog returned from their walk just as Olivia was finishing setting the weathered wooden table on the deck with flowers, dishes, silverware and linen napkins. Joe and Brad carried the food to the table and Olivia fed Lily. They lit candles, opened a bottle of wine, and settled down to munch just as the sun was setting over the trees.

“I’m looking forward to you being home in August,” Brad said to Olivia as he added homemade salsa to his tacos.

“It seems like you haven’t been home in ages,” Joe added.

“I know. It feels like that to me too,” Olivia said. Thinking about being back home in Ogunquit caused the anxiety of last summer’s violence to flash through her veins and coil hard in her stomach. She wanted to tell Brad and Joe about her fears and how those fears had prevented her from returning to Maine but she didn’t know how to start. Her fingers shook as she reached for her wine glass.

“Well now that you’ve had a successful first year of law school, maybe you can come home some weekends this coming year,” Brad said. “Now that you’re used to the workload and the routine.” He looked across the table at Olivia. “I miss you.”

“Things aren’t the same without you,” Joe said.

Olivia’s eyes misted and she swallowed hard. “I hope so. I want to.”

They cleared the table when they were finished and Olivia brought out tea, coffee, apple pie and vanilla ice cream. It was nearly dark and the soft light from the candles flickered over their faces as they enjoyed the dessert.

When the pie was eaten and the coffee finished, Joe and Brad helped Olivia clean up, loaded their bags into the trunk, and fastened the canoe and kayak to the top of the car for the trip home.

“We’ll see you soon, sweet pea.” Joe hugged her. “Stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll try,” Olivia said. “I can’t promise though.” She smiled at him.

Brad bear-hugged her and kissed her as he stroked her chestnut brown hair. Olivia couldn’t help a tear escaping from her eye. Brad brushed it away. “I feel the same way,” he whispered. “I’m counting the minutes until August 1.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him for one last hug.

Olivia waved to them from the front porch with Lily beside her wagging her tail as the car backed up, turned, and headed down the driveway to the street. Olivia watched until the red tail lights disappeared. She sighed, patted Lily’s head, and the two of them went into the house.

Olivia sat in her pajamas curled up on the sofa reading. Lily sprawled out on the floor at Olivia’s feet. Olivia was sorry to see Brad and Joe leave. The weekend visit made her homesick for the coast of Maine, her house there, and the daily interaction with the men. Her thoughts of them made it difficult to focus on her book.

Lily lifted her head and turned to the front door. She woofed, low in her throat.

Olivia ran her toes over Lily’s back. “It was just a dream, Lily. Go back to sleep, girl.” Lily put her head back down on the rug.

A quiet thump from the direction of the front door caused Olivia to turn and Lily to bounce to her feet. A growl rumbled from the dog. Lily flicked her eyes at Olivia and turned her gaze to the front entrance. Olivia closed the book and rose from the sofa. She and Lily stood motionless, listening.

Olivia went to the window, turned the lamp off, moved the muslin curtain a bit to the side, and looked into the dark, front yard. The driveway was empty and she saw no movement on the lawn. She crept to the window on the far side of the front door which afforded a better view of the porch. Lily barked and Olivia jumped, her heart leaping into her throat.

“Sshhh, Lily,” she said. Olivia put her ear next to the door. She heard nothing. Lily was beside her. Olivia unlocked the deadbolt and put her hand on Lily’s collar.

“Lily, wait,” she whispered.

Olivia pulled on the heavy wooden door and opened it a crack. Lily was eager to get out, but she stood still obeying Olivia’s command. Olivia put one eye in the open crack, and seeing nothing she fully opened the door. Lily pushed against Olivia’s leg but stayed beside her.

Olivia grimaced and gasped and pulled on Lily’s collar preventing her from pushing open the screen door. On the floor of the porch just beyond the front door, were two dead squirrels, one larger than the other. Both of their throats had been slit and they were positioned with their heads yanked back, fully exposing the gashes. The bigger animal had stab wounds along the abdomen.

Olivia’s stomach churned. Her eyes flashed about the yard and down to the street. She pulled Lily back into the house, slammed the door and turned the deadbolt. Her hands were shaking and her breath was coming in gasps. Anger flared in her chest. She closed her eyes for a second to blot out the gruesome sight, but shutting her lids made the image of the bloody creatures flash in her mind.

Bastard. Who did it?

Olivia darted up the stairs to the second floor of the house with Lily running behind. She dashed from bedroom to bedroom peering out of the windows trying to see anyone who might be lurking or running through the yard to the tree line.

Returning to the living room, Olivia played the past few minutes back in her head. She hadn’t heard a car engine or feet creaking on the floorboards of the porch. She hadn’t seen a gleam from headlights or a flashlight. Lily had perked up right before Olivia heard a thump from the front of the house. Whoever was responsible must have been watching and waiting since the delivery of the deceased squirrels happened after Brad and Joe ended their visit. Olivia suspected the person must have checked around the house on other occasions in order to find the easiest and most hidden way to approach and retreat with the least chance of detection.

Olivia clenched her jaw. Her hands were balled into fists. As she moved to the coffee table for her cell phone to place a call to the police, she was almost thankful that she hadn’t discovered the perpetrator in the yard because she didn’t want to be responsible for what she might have done to him.

The police arrived and Olivia recounted how she found the animals on the porch. Olivia was grateful that one of the officers removed them so that she wouldn’t have to see the mutilated bodies again. Olivia told the police that she had met with some residents of Howland to inquire about the 1973 murders of her cousins and the officers suggested that the dead animals on the porch were probably a prank by local teenagers who had heard that Olivia was asking questions about the forty year old crime.

“So they grab some squirrels and slit their throats? For a prank?” Olivia asked.

“Kids do stupid stuff,” the officer said. “They don’t think beyond the moment. That’s how they end up in trouble.”

The second officer came inside from disposing of the squirrels. “They’d been shot.”

“Kids must have been hunting and thought it would be funny to stage the old crime scene on the porch,” the first officer said.