As she walked, Polly thought about the two murders. They had to be connected because otherwise, there were two murderers in town and that just hurt her head too much to think about. She gave a quick shudder, thinking back a few months when her old boyfriend had shown up in Bellingwood with a serial killer. She felt terrible for Joey because she still had a soft spot in her heart for him. He'd deteriorated since she first met him. Maybe he'd always been that way, but she worried that she'd been the catalyst for his rapid descent into madness.
The only comfort Polly had was that his mother was as mad as he was. She just hid it better. Polly shook her head. How in the world did people like that manage to live within society, doing all that woman did, and never be caught in their insanity? Did her acquaintances ignore that part of her personality or just refuse to see it?
A tug from Obiwan made Polly realize that she'd stopped in the middle of the trail. She paused to get her bearings. No wonder she'd stopped.
"Hey," she said to the dogs. "At least some part of my brain was paying attention."
They'd come out on the street leading south from the vineyard to Sycamore Inn. She could retrace her steps on the trail, but was much more curious about how Alistair Greyson was getting along. Jeff thought he was doing very well. He'd rearranged furniture to make the front room nicer for guests and was talking to Eliseo about bushes and trees they could plant to bring color to the front of the building.
Polly walked between two buildings to enter the courtyard in the center of the complex and heard someone whistling. Grey looked up from a picnic table when Han gave a yap.
"Ms. Giller," he said and stood up, moving across the lawn to greet her. "How are you this fine evening? I see that you are accompanied by two very handsome young beasts. Out for a stroll?"
She shifted both leashes to her left hand so she could accept his outstretched hand to shake. "We are. We took the trail. The boys needed exercise and I needed peace."
Grey reached for the leashes and she allowed him to take them. He gestured to the picnic table. "Ahhh, peace. One thing we don't often find, though our souls desperately crave it. I find that life in a small town can offer more or less depending on how we choose to live."
"I suppose so," Polly said. "How do you like it here?"
"In my own search for inner peace, I find this space to be quite comforting," he replied. Then he pointed to the center area. "This has not always been a lawn. Might I ask what used to be here?"
She nodded. "It was a swimming pool, but it had been pretty much filled in by the time we purchased it. Things were a horrid mess."
"I see," he said. "Might you consider ever opening that back up again?"
Polly looked out over the beautiful lawn and scowled. "No, I can't imagine why I'd want to do that. I don't want the liability or the maintenance of a pool. Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity," he said. "You left the pool intact, but filled it in?"
"Yes. Now I'm curious. Tell me what you are thinking?"
"Nothing much. And certainly nothing that I'd want you to consider until you knew me better. We'll discuss it later."
Polly chuckled. 'You have no idea how much I hate surprises and I am not terribly fond of cryptic questions and statements either."
"Please allow me time to line up all of my mallards before pursuing this," he said.
"Get your ducks in a row?"
"That's one way of putting it." He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of hers. "Am I to understand that you encountered another vicious murder this morning? I am sorry you are constantly exposed to such darkness in the world. You are a shining light. It doesn't seem fitting for this to be your calling."
"It certainly is something," she said. "But if someone has to do it, I'm glad it's me." Polly looked into his deep blue eyes. There was caring and understanding there, as if he'd experienced the greatest depths of pain and the highest heights of joy. Every time she was with him, she felt comfortable and safe. The dogs must have felt the same way. Obiwan was lying under the table, almost exactly between them, and Han had taken a place beside Grey, his head lolling over on the man's foot.
"Why do you say that?" he asked.
As he spoke, Polly watched the lines on his face shift with the formation of words. She was so focused on him, she missed the question and had to slow her mind down to think back on what he had said.
"Say what?"
"Why are you glad that it's you?"
"I guess I know that I can handle it. Death doesn't frighten me. Sometimes I'm startled by it, but it isn't scary or dark or awful. Whatever that person felt before they died, it was over in a split second and they've left all the pain behind. Their last moments, whether horrifying or peaceful, no longer mean anything to them. They've moved on to the next step and have no physical ties left to their lives." She shrugged. "It would have been awful if Abby's father or sister had found her this morning. Neither of them need to have that memory chiseled into their minds. I was the one who was there. As awful as losing her is going to be for them, at least they will remember her as a happy, sweet girl."
"What about your memory of her?"
"I didn't know her before today, so she's just become part of me now. I was the one who protected her father and sister from that. I don't take it in."
He didn't look as if he wanted to accept that. "You have to take it in. It's a powerful moment. You shouldn't just toss it aside."
"You're right," Polly said. "I don't toss it aside, but I don't let it eat away at me. I'll hold on to my dogs a little tighter tonight and I'll snuggle in with my husband, maybe hug Rebecca one or two times more than usual."
"So you let your friends and family help you through this."
"They aren't helping me through anything. They're just part of my life."
Grey smiled at her. "You've figured this out by surrounding yourself with good people. You don't let many toxic folks into your life, do you?"
"I ignore them as much as possible. I don't have time for their bitter anger."
"I don't suppose you would," he said. "Especially not if you are the body finder. That takes emotional energy. Energy that the rest of us expend on those toxic, bitter people. You're a smart woman, Polly Giller. You've figured this out without all of those pesky psychology degrees."
She nodded and he allowed silence to surround them.
"I should get home to the girls," Polly said, swinging a leg out from under the picnic table.
"This isn't all that easy for you, is it," he asked quietly.
"Death?" Polly shrugged. "It is what it is."
"And everyone lets you get away with saying those words. You pass it off as if it is easy for you and you try not to think about it after it's over."
"You're right there," she said. "I don't need to think about it again. It's not my job."
"You don't spend time with their families. I'll bet there are some you've never met. You leave that all to others. Am I right?"
Polly thought back to the girls who had been killed by her ex-boyfriend a few months ago. She'd never met any of those families. She didn't want to. She knew that it made no sense for her to feel guilty about their deaths. Joey was the one who obsessed over her and committed the murders to get her attention. She had no interest in meeting Julie Smith's family or Abby's father and sister. She thought back further. It wasn't completely true. She'd gotten to know Thomas Zeller's old girlfriend and her family and she'd found Henry's Uncle Loren.
"Those don't count," she muttered, then looked at Grey. "You're right. I avoid those situations as often as possible. I don't want to see the shock in their eyes and have to deal with the grieving of someone that I don't know. That's such a personal time and having a stranger gawk at you while you try to process a loss like that isn't fair. They need privacy and family, not me." She gave him a wry grin. "It's bad enough that people see me as a grim reaper."
"You make jokes, but it isn't easy, is it?"
"We all make jokes," sh
e said. "It's about the only way to handle it. I mean, look at me." She gestured at herself. "I'm a normal, Midwestern girl and my super power is finding dead bodies. I have a super power. Who else can say that? Everybody around me lives normal lives and do normal things. But when the Sheriff sees my phone number show up, he knows I've found a dead body." She hit the table with her fist. "Three months ago they had to send me out looking for a girl who had been killed. I was the only one who could find her. The police had looked for days, but in just a few short hours, I tracked her down. I didn't want to be strange and odd. I didn't want to be infamous. I just want to be Polly Giller and live a quiet life in the middle of Iowa."
"This frustrates you. And you won't talk about it."
"No one wants to hear me whine about something as silly as this. I can't make it stop, so why complain?" She grinned. "And I have plenty of other things to whine about."
"I doubt that. You know, a person once said something about cursing someone by wishing them an interesting life."
"Confucius," she said. "May you live in interesting times. But I don't think he said it."
"Anyway. You have an interesting life. Whether it's a curse or a blessing is your decision."
"Tonight it feels like a curse," Polly said. "It was a long day with no sign of growing shorter." She looked out over the lawn and said, "You won't tell me what you're thinking of back here?"
He laughed. "You don't forget a thing, do you?"
"Not really."
"Do you know why I limp?" he asked.
"Something about hockey?"
"I was pretty good in my day - being recruited by the pros. Then came a rather horrendous car accident and my pro career was over before it had even begun. I had to re-start my life while I lay there in that hospital. Before I left, I decided that I hadn't always been defined by hockey and I could choose to be anybody I wanted to be. So, I made some interesting choices and years passed and here I am."
Polly looked at him and said, "There must be more of a story in those years that passed, yes?"
"Aye, my friend, but those stories will be told another time. For the purpose of this conversation, the fact that I still love hockey is enough."
"Wait," Polly said. "That day you swept the kid's legs out from under him. Did you learn that playing hockey?"
He chuckled. "Well, not that exact move, but I can still face down an aggressor."
"Now, tell me what you are thinking." She gestured to the grassy area.
Grey stood up and walked away from the table, stirring the two dogs into life. Han sat up and Grey stopped to pick up his leash. He handed Obiwan's leash to Polly. She walked with him.
"I'd like to put ice in here this winter. Maybe teach some of the boys and girls how to skate and find out if any of them show any skill for the game. You have a league in Des Moines and several young teams in the state. Maybe someday we could do something in Bellingwood, but we need to start. This isn't much, but even a little bit of ice for a short period of time could be interesting." He turned and grinned at her. "There's that word again."
"That's a pretty big dream," Polly said. "I can't even imagine how to make it happen."
"I'm sure your husband can. And don't forget your groundskeeper. Both of them are quite creative and practical. They both understand how to create something from nothing."
"Henry is amazing. It still astounds me that he can take my ideas and turn them into something like Sycamore House and then, this place. I start dreaming and he makes it happen."
Grey was walking close to her and nudged her arm. "The two of you are very fortunate to have found each other. It's a joy to see you together. You fit."
She nodded. He was right. That was a perfect description. They fit together. Sometimes it was so natural she couldn't believe they hadn't always been together. Polly looped her arm through his as they walked. "Who are you thinking will come skate with you?"
"That young man in your sickroom. He needs me. He sees nothing out there in front of him for his life. All he ever focuses on is the pain that he's in. And those young men who assaulted us. They are so wrapped up in their anger that they have lost their true north. They don't know who they're supposed to be and right now, no one is helping them discover that. The world is afraid of them. Their parents are afraid of them, their teachers and friends are afraid of them, so they live in a bubble, knowing that at any moment it could break and they'd be lost."
"Wow," Polly said. "I'm just mad at them. Who in the hell do they think they are, treating people like that? Do you know that two of them were in the coffee shop today and were taken out by the police?"
He stopped and turned to her, pain in his eyes. "I'm too late."
Polly put her hand on his. "Grey, you've been here less than two weeks. You can't save the world in that amount of time."
"You said there were two boys today. We were attacked by more than that."
"One of the boys who lives with his aunt and uncle on their farm wasn't there. I don't know what happened to him."
"I want to meet him. He'll remember me. Maybe he and I can start moving earth here in preparation for the ice this winter."
She tightened her grip on his hand. "You are a character. I will find out who he is. Henry told me the other night and I've forgotten. His parents were killed, so I'm sure that he is as lost as you can get."
"You give me permission to begin this project?"
"Talk to Henry," Polly said. "If he thinks it is possible and the two of you can come up with a budget we can manage, my answer is yes."
"The budget is not something I will saddle you with," he said. "The boys and I will raise the funds and I have money of my own."
"No big decisions today," Polly said. "I'll tell Henry you want to make an appointment to discuss this and we'll move forward from there. You are a character, you know."
"It's my best trait," he responded with a smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nobody moved the next afternoon when Polly asked if they wanted to go to the library and then get ice cream. Kayla and Rebecca sat on either end of the sofa in the media room with Andrew in the middle playing a game. The girls whimpered and Rebecca gave a weary shake of her head.
Gina was a very active girl and had kept the three older kids moving all day long. She'd kept Rebecca and Kayla up late the night before, begging them to talk about boys, teachers at school, the horses and donkeys at the barn - anything she could come up with. Polly had checked on them a couple of times, but finally gave up and went to sleep.
The little girl had gotten up when she heard Polly and Henry moving and in her excitement, stirred Rebecca and Kayla awake. She begged to go to the barn, so by eight o'clock they were out of the house. Andrew showed up soon after and Polly sent him down to join them. They had ridden horses, much to Gina's delight, taken a wagon ride, and helped Eliseo in the garden. As soon as the swimming pool was open, Gina pulled out her swimsuit and announced that she couldn't wait, so off they went.
When Darla Landry showed up with her son, Polly was certain that she'd sent the young girl home completely exhausted. Darla wouldn't have to do much this evening to entertain her daughter.
Polly was in the kitchen mixing a marinade for the chicken they would grill this evening when Rebecca came over.
"What's up?" Polly asked.
"Can Kayla and Andrew spend the rest of the evening with me? We won't be able to relax like this when school starts. I'm not ready to have them go home yet."
Polly shrugged. "They have to ask permission, but I certainly don't care. What are you planning to do?"
"Not much. Just sit around and talk. We won't get in your hair or anything and Henry usually watches TV in your room if he isn't working in the office. We'll stay out here."
"That's fine," Polly said. "Don't worry about getting in our hair. We're both kinda used to you all. As long as Stephanie and Sylvie don't care, I'm fine with it. In fact, tell Kayla to ask Stephanie if she wants to eat dinner outsid
e with us. I have plenty."
Rebecca gave her an odd look, but said, "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"You can start on the corn," Polly said, pointing to a bag filled with corn on the cob. She opened the refrigerator and took out a container. "I've already mixed up the butter and herbs."
"Do it in the garage?" Rebecca asked. She'd been through this routine several times already.
Polly handed her a box of aluminum foil and utensils. "Thank you."
"Kayla, I need help," Rebecca called across the room after dropping the aluminum foil on the floor the second time. She handed the bag of corn and the butter to her friend and gathered the rest into her hands. Kayla shared another of those odd looks with her friend, but Rebecca pushed her forward.
Polly smiled as she watched them walk across the room. Rebecca was always going to be in charge. All she would be able to do was watch and guide her as best as she could.
"Henry's here," Rebecca yelled back from the stairway.
Han and Obiwan went tearing through the house to greet him. He walked in from his office and put his hand out toward Andrew, who gave it a high five slap and went back to his game.
"What are you doing?" Henry asked. "I came home early."
"I'm getting supper ready. Are you good to grill tonight?"
"They did it again?" He shook his head.
"Who did what? The girls are taking care of the corn. I have the chicken and there are salads in the fridge downstairs."
"Not them they, but they they." He gave her a look of disgust. "She calls and asks if I will be able to make it home in time to deal with dinner so that you're free, but does she call you?"
"Who?"
"Where's your phone. Have you had it on today?"
Polly thought back through her day. She'd been busy enough to not pay much attention to whether or not her phone was working. She'd made some calls in her office, but maybe not on her phone. That didn't make sense, though. She used that phone for everything. She patted her back pocket and realized it wasn't there.
Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11) Page 22
