The Blossoming: The Third book in The Green Man Series

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The Blossoming: The Third book in The Green Man Series Page 20

by Sharon Brubaker


  “I also owe you two an apology,” Joe told Sylvia and Owen. “Things got crazy in the office, and I wasn’t able to check out the Tony connection.”

  “It’s okay, Joe. This isn’t your fault,” Owen said.

  “When can I check on Percy, our dog?” Sylvia asked Mr. Polk anxiously.

  “I’ll check,” Mr. Polk said and he stood and went outside.

  He came back to Kim’s house moments later.

  “You can go to your house,” he told Sylvia and Owen. “Go around the front.”

  Sylvia rushed out of Kim’s house. A group of neighbors had gathered in the open area, close to where Sylvia, Joe, and Mr. Polk had parked their cars. Sylvia ignored them and rushed to the house. Owen followed with Kim.

  “Uh, oh,” Kim intoned, “the poison-ivy vine is beginning. The rumor mill will be running rampant. I’ll go see if I can spray a little Round-Up on it.”

  Owen nodded and continued to follow Sylvia to the house. She was inside the front door, kneeling on the floor and crying into the big, standard poodle’s fur.

  Percy had panicked with the fire and had scratched the door to pieces. Sylvia didn’t care. They could get it repaired.

  “We should go look at the damage,” Owen told Sylvia quietly. He brushed some hair stuck to her cheek from her tears. He kissed her gently above her ear.

  Sylvia nodded and got up slowly. She felt as though she was a hundred years old. She went out to the kitchen to get Percy’s leash. She caught a glimpse of the garage, or what was left of it, through the windows in the kitchen door. What had been the garage was only a heap of smoking rubble. She felt sick. When she didn’t come back right away, Owen came out to the kitchen.

  “Come on,” he said gently.

  They went outside to look at the garage. It was a heap of burned wood over what was left of Owen’s car and the small things inside. Sylvia just stood, shaking her head.

  “I know you wanted a new car,” she said faintly to Owen so that only he could hear.

  Owen chuckled and shook his head. “You know, you’re right,” he said. “It’s always funny how things work out. I’m not sure I like this way, though.”

  Joe joined them. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Owen and Sylvia and a serious note entered his voice as he continued, “I promise you, I will check out if Mr. Capaselli has anything to do with this. I need to go, but when this cools down, a team will be out to investigate.” He turned to Sylvia, “I’ll call Carol. You probably have a bunch of calls to make. The firemen will clear up here. We’ll be sending a black and white to keep an eye on the area and shoo off any curiosity seekers,” he told them and nodded to the knot of neighbors still hanging out in the green, open space.

  Joe left them and walked over to the neighbors. Sylvia and Owen stood and looked at the smoldering rubble of what used to be the garage. They went inside. Owen called his parents and Sylvia’s mom, Mary. Sylvia called the house insurance company and gave them as much information as she could. She also called the local carpenter and explained about the door. Then she called Marian.

  “Hi Marian,” Sylvia began.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Marian asked, “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “The rosemary didn’t work,” Sylvia told her. “We should have planted some around the garage.”

  “What?” Marian asked, “What are you talking about?”

  Sylvia reminded Marian that she had planted rosemary for protection a little more than a week ago. She explained to Marian what had happened to the garage.

  “Oh, my!” Marian exclaimed, “What do you need, Sylvia? Do you and Owen need to stay here?”

  “No, no thank you, Marian,” Sylvia told her, a sad note in her voice. “The house is okay. Just more stuff to juggle.” Sylvia sighed deeply.

  Numb, Sylvia walked to the hammock, swinging gently in a breeze from the water. She sat in it wearily, too tired and numb to cry. The wind from the water kept some of the acrid smell of the burnt building away. The question ‘why’ kept playing over and over in her head. Was Tony behind all of this? She asked herself again and again.

  The rustle of leaves jerked her to attention when the Green Man stood before her.

  She put her question to him, “why?” she asked quietly.

  The Green Man put his hands of living wood on her shoulders. He looked at her with concern.

  “I know it’s selfish,” she said, “but, what have I done in this life or in past lives, if there are any, to deserve all of this?” she asked.

  “You haven’t done anything,” the Green Man told her gently in his deep, baritone voice. His voice almost sounded like a scolding.

  Sylvia interrupted him, “Well, why, do bad things keep happening? I wish and try so hard to be a good person, consciously attempt to be a good person. From my perspective, these things have been pretty bad!”

  The Green Man’s voice had a soothing quality, “There will always be good and bad. Things are always in a balance. There’s a universal law of cause and effect. But, as I have said to you before, the better, the more hope, the more joy you can bring into the world, the more of the evil stuff, as you say, will be squelched. You,” he explained, “and all of humanity, co-creates together.”

  “I don’t know anymore,” Sylvia said in weary frustration. “I’m so very tired of all of this.”

  The Green Man kissed her gently on both eyelids. It was like when she was in Chestertown, and she saw the brilliant connectedness between everything. She gasped in awe, but she was still frustrated.

  “I can’t see the future,” he told Sylvia, “that’s not part of my gift. I am here to help keep the balance of this beautiful, living earth and its environs. We are all manifestations of the same thing. Our core spirit essence is represented by the different manifestations and their states at any given moment.”

  “Does that reach beyond the earth and into space?” Sylvia asked.

  He smiled at this and said, “through space, through time, but more on that another time,” before he disappeared with another rustle of the leaves on his leafy brocade.

  Chapter 26

  “Life is a song - sing it. Life is a game - play it. Life is a challenge - meet it. Life is a dream - realize it. Life is a sacrifice - offer it. Life is love - enjoy it.” Sai Baba

  Sylvia walked back to the house, slowly. Owen was in the study, watching something on television. Percy was at his feet. Both looked up when she came into the room.

  “Are you okay?” Owen asked her.

  “I will be, I think,” Sylvia told him.

  “I would have come down to the hammock, but you looked like you wanted to be alone,” Owen said. “And, I didn’t think this,” he hitched his head to his injured side, “could take the hammock.”

  “How are you doing?” Sylvia asked, “Have you talked to the insurance company about your car?”

  “I’ll be okay. I’m angry, I think,” he said and then with a growl, continued, “I’m furious at Tony Capaselli!”

  “I know, I know,” Sylvia said. She went to Owen and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “What kind of car do you think you’ll be getting?”

  “No idea,” he told her, “yet.”

  Sylvia sat, thinking about nothing and not really paying attention to the television. The doorbell rang at the back door. Percy began to bark frantically. Puzzled, Sylvia and Owen looked at each other. Sylvia stood up. At the back door was a pizza delivery guy. Sylvia looked at him.

  “But, we didn’t order anything!” she told the pizza guy.

  “It’s got your address, lady. And, it’s been paid for,” he told her. “Here, happy dinner.” He winked at her.

  Owen had come to the door, carefully shutting it before Percy had a chance to escape. He was whining.

  “What’s up?” he asked Sylvia.

  “Apparently, someone sent us dinner,” Sylvia said, taking a couple of pizzas and a huge paper bag from the delivery man.

  “Good night,” the delivery guy s
aid, and he got into his car with its lighted sign.

  “I wonder who…” Sylvia began.

  “Wonder no more,” Kim said, coming across the yard with a six-pack of beer and a large bottle of wine in her hand.

  “Thanks!” Owen said.

  “Yes, thanks,” Sylvia told her. “I hadn’t even thought of dinner.”

  “I wondered,” Kim said. “If this had happened to me, I think I would have returned to bed to wake up later to see if it was all a dream. By the way, there’s enough for the guys in the black and white, too.” She nodded in their direction.

  “Owen, hand me one of those pizzas,” Kim said.

  He did so and she took it to the two policemen in the car. They grinned in appreciation. Sylvia ran inside for extra napkins, bottles of water and some paper plates that she ran out to the car.

  “Let us know if you need anything,” Sylvia told them.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they returned.

  Sylvia, Owen, and Kim settled onto the deck. Sylvia realized she had skipped lunch and was famished. Owen was too. They talked about everything, except the fire, even though a wisp of wind would bring acrid smoke around the corner.

  “Are you going to work tomorrow?” Kim asked.

  “Have to,” they both replied at once.

  “We’ve missed so much time,” Sylvia said, “we need to work every second so we have a few hours as a honeymoon!”

  “I’ll be around,” Kim said, “if you need anything.”

  “And, I think the Black and White will be here as well,” Sylvia added.

  “I might need to stay home an afternoon or two when the carpenter comes to repair the door,” Sylvia said.

  “Or Marian and Jon could come over then,” Owen offered, “or maybe one of the moms can come down.”

  “Marian and Jon are supposed to be going on another trip,” Sylvia reminded him, “but, I can’t remember where or when, right now.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Owen said.

  Kim cleared her throat, “and, my friends, you can call me too. I’ll be happy to help out if you need me.”

  “Thank you so much, Kim,” Sylvia told her again.

  “It’s not a problem,” Kim told them. She picked up her paper plate and napkins. “I’m going to bid you good night,” she said.

  Chapter 27

  “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”

  Buddha

  Sylvia didn’t have much time to think in the next couple weeks. She was focusing on work, and juggling the last few plans for the wedding, as well as handling the repair of the garage and the door. She wanted the garage to be a re-creation of what had been there, but with some of the modern conveniences and added storage. Fortunately, pictures of the property gave the builder an idea of what she wanted. His schedule was full, but he said he would get it completed by mid–October.

  It was August. Sylvia was beginning to feel the pinch of even more last minute details for the wedding. One evening, Joe dropped by with Carol in tow. He had his ‘cop face’ on. They settled on the couch in the living room.

  “This isn’t about the wedding, is it?” Sylvia asked carefully.

  “No,” Joe and Carol said together.

  “And, are you two going to elope?” Owen asked.

  “No!” Carol cried, not realizing at first, that Owen was teasing. She blushed.

  “I have some good news and some bad news, with regards to the investigations,” Joe told Sylvia and Owen. “The good news is that we caught George’s murderers.”

  “What? Who? Who is it? Who are they?” Sylvia asked.

  “Fish poachers,” Joe told them, “It was a ring of fish poachers. Their last haul was over three tons of striped bass. They’ve been running the ring through various marinas, using extortion with some fishermen and showing a violent side. George apparently caught wind of the ring. They killed him because he threatened to turn them in. They knew he would. They feel they didn’t have a choice, but to end his life. As with most criminals, they don’t think they’ll get caught. They thought it was a perfect crime. They moved on to another marina.”

  “Poor George,” Sylvia said sadly, her eyes tearing.

  Owen came and sat beside her and took her hand in his. He gave it a squeeze.

  “Do Maureen and Skip know?” Owen asked.

  Joe nodded, “Yes, I told them this afternoon, just before we came here. They are relieved the nightmare is nearly over.”

  “And, what’s the bad news?” Owen queried.

  “It’s apparently not Tony Capaselli who has been stretching out his arm from prison to harass you,” Joe said.

  “Are you sure?” Sylvia insisted.

  “As sure as I can be for the moment,” Joe told them. “I’m still having him monitored pretty carefully in prison, but we cannot find any connection whatsoever.”

  “Then who?” Sylvia asked. “I don’t think…”

  “I was sure it was Tony,” Owen interrupted vehemently.

  “You and me both, bro,” Joe said. “Now, we’re back to square one.”

  “Shit!” Owen returned.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Joe told him.

  “What about Mr. Headley?” Sylvia suggested. “He was pretty crazy too.”

  “I can check it out,” Joe told her, “but, I don’t think so. That’s not what my gut is telling me.”

  “And, usually that’s right,” Carol smiled at Joe.

  “It’s right often enough,” Joe admitted, “but, I still need to follow leads and get the job done right.”

  “Well, sorry to disturb you two, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible,” Joe said and then he mentioned, “Bluegrass this weekend at a farm outside of town if you two are up for it.”

  “Sounds good,” Owen said.

  Joe and Carol left. Sylvia and Owen were alone.

  Sylvia stood up and Owen held her. Percy, worried, circled around them.

  “Now, what?” Sylvia murmured.

  “I don’t know,” Owen told her honestly.

  Chapter 28

  “Life isn't a matter of milestones, but of moments.” Rose Kennedy

  August. Sylvia was so busy, she thought her head might fly into a million pieces. Meeting her deadlines for work before the wedding and the wedding itself, were the prize, which Sylvia had her eye on. Owen was busy at work and looking forward to getting the True Love home. The vandalism stopped. The black and white left the neighborhood. Life seemed to be returning to normal.

  The carpenter called and was finally able to fix the door. He was going to come and take off the door, take it to his workshop to sand it down and refinish the vintage door that graced the house. Sylvia offered to take off and make some calls to confirm things for the wedding. She drove Owen to work and returned home to wait for the carpenter.

  He arrived just after ten in the morning. He brought a substitute door to take the place of the one needing repair. It wasn’t pretty, but it fit and they could close and lock it. Sylvia told herself it would only be for a couple of weeks. The carpenter left and she and Percy went back inside.

  The heat was building, but it wasn’t humid. Sylvia turned on the whole, house fan, got a large glass of ice water and put on her lightest shorts and tank top. She sat in the study, trying to wrestle the paper tiger of wedding plans and the current bills. The shredder was making a grinding noise. She had jammed it with too many papers. It was hot and she pulled her hand away when she touched it. Annoyed, she pulled the plug. Percy was barking and barking and barking. She listened. It was an odd bark. She wondered why and started to get up out of her chair. She thought she heard a strange noise. It was like a pop. She thought she heard him yelp.

  “Percy?” Sylvia called, “Percy? Where are you? What’s going on?”

  Sylvia stepped out of the study and saw Percy, lying in a puddle of his own blood in the hallway.

  “Percy?” Sylvia cried, “Oh, Percy!”

  Sylvi
a ran and knelt beside him. A thwack on her head made everything go black.

  When Sylvia came to, there was duct tape over her mouth. Her hands and ankles were tied. She was seated with her knees in her face. She must have been sitting there awhile as her feet and legs were numb and sore. Sylvia was against the wall in the living room. She could see into the hallway where Percy lay. Tears blurred her eyes.

  A man came into the room. “So, you’re awake,” he growled. “When’s your old man coming home?”

  Sylvia obviously couldn’t answer him. The tape was on her mouth. He ripped it off quickly and she cried out in pain.

  “Shut up!” he yelled at her and he slapped her across the cheek.

  Instantly, Sylvia was quiet.

  “Well?” the man asked, “when’s he coming home.”

  “He’s, he’s working late tonight,” Sylvia lied. “I really don’t know when he’ll be home.”

  If she didn’t pick him up, Owen would call. If she didn’t answer, he would get worried. If he got worried, he might call Carol or Joe. Sylvia could only wish.

  “Shit!” the man snarled.

  Sylvia had thought Joe’s eyes were cold when he was working on a case. They were nothing in comparison to this man’s eyes. His were like chips of ice with dead shark pupils. His mere glance chilled Sylvia to her bones. Her stomach clenched tightly in response to his terrible gaze. Even worse, she could tell that he knew how she was feeling. He felt he was the hunter and she was his helpless prey. His mouth curled in an unattractive sneering smile. She had to look away. Fear filled every cell in her body. There was something more frightening about this man than Mr. Headly, Ed and Maureen Davenport, or even Tony Capaselli.

  “I have to figure this out,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sylvia, “Boss man wants both.” He turned to Sylvia with an evil smile. “Well, we’re just going to have to wait for him,” he said in a low, menacing voice that sent more fear racing through Sylvia.

 

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