The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1)

by Sharon Brubaker

  “I need to report it,” Owen went on unhappily. “I suspected it, I couldn’t believe it but, I proved it,” he said. “Obviously, she’s not happy about it from what everyone saw today in the cafeteria,” he said sardonically. “She likes to put on quite a show.”

  Sylvia didn’t say anything. She leaned against him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Owen shook his head and put his arm around her. They sat quietly for a long time and then he turned to kiss her. First he kissed her on the hair lightly and repeatedly. She turned her face up to him and she kissed him back. The kisses turned deeper and deeper.

  When they finally broke apart, Sylvia said, “Let’s go inside.”

  “No,” Owen said hoarsely and seriously, looking into her eyes, his one hand cupped against her cheek and the other on her arm, lightly brushing her breast. “If I come inside, I won’t be leaving tonight,” he told her. “And I don’t think either of us is ready for that.”

  He was probably right, but Sylvia didn’t want to agree. Yet, Sylvia’s mind and body were not paying any heed to anything that made sense. The smoldering fires within her wanted to flame. She swallowed hard and nodded in agreement to his reasoning. They stood up. His hands lingered on her.

  Sylvia leaned her head on his chest and held him as tightly as he held her. Owen kissed her on the top of her head and reluctantly pulled away.

  “Thanks. Thanks for being here and for listening,” he told her. He said louder with a voice firm with resolve, “I know what I need to do.”

  Sylvia watched him walk across the deck and over to his car. She held up her hand in a silent goodbye and went back into the house.

  Chapter 18

  O Lord

  Let my spirit

  Glow so brightly,

  That darkness

  Will disappear.

  -Pakistan, Islamic “a child’s prayer”

  Peace on Earth

  Sylvia watched him drive away and tears welled up in her eyes for no apparent reason. She wondered what he meant by ‘he knew what he had to do.’ She looked around, hoping that the Green Man would return, but he didn’t. Now her heart ached for Owen even more since and her frustration level was still high.

  She felt she could barely make it through work Friday. She checked and re-checked her e-mail hoping to hear from Owen and looked for him at lunch to no avail. She had a difficult time concentrating and tried, very hard, to make sure everything was in place for Saturday’s training. Fortunately the kits had arrived by express mail and she double -checked that the appropriate people would be available to open the building and that the catering was in place. Mr. Carter urged her to leave early since she would be working on Saturday, but Sylvia refused. She hoped that perhaps Owen might stop by the office at the end of the day. Reluctantly at 5p.m. she turned off her computer and the lights to the office. Her car was one of the last ones left in the lot. His car was parked under a tree. She didn’t know what kind of car Anna drove. She went home and paced endlessly and finally called Marian. They conversed for a few minutes and Sylvia asked if Owen was there.

  “No,” Marian answered her. “I haven’t seen him. In fact, I thought he might be with you until you called. He didn’t get in until late last night and was up and out quite early this morning.”

  “Hmm,” Sylvia murmured. “Okay, thanks.”

  They talked for a few minutes more and hung up. Sylvia made herself some dinner and picked at it. She turned on the television and channel surfed only staying on a program for a few minutes before switching to another. She felt like a fool. Even though Owen expressed interest in her and seemed sincere with his feelings over the weekend she couldn’t help but wonder if he was jerking her around? Was he really involved with Anna. Sighing, she finally went up to bed. She couldn’t read. She couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned throughout the night.

  The next morning, Sylvia dragged herself out of bed and sat hunched over a cup of coffee. She knew full well she had to be at Thurmont in the next hour and a half, bright, chipper and ready to lead this group on a stream watch. She had hoped Owen might call and say they could go together, but he hadn’t. She washed, dressed in old khakis and a Thurmont T-shirt that had been provided to the company, and set off to Thurmont. The custodian, Ed let her into the building. He was a really nice guy only a few years older than she. He always seemed to be at Thurmont and always had a smile and something nice to say.

  “You must live here,” she commented.

  “Almost,” he said. “I like the overtime! The catering’s all set up,” he told her. “And I started coffee.”

  “Thanks, you’re terrific!” Sylvia said, returning his bright smile. She noticed that his hand was bandaged. “What happened to your hand?” she asked, concerned.

  Ed hesitated and then said, “Poison ivy, I think. Stupid of me.”

  “Gee, I hope you’re okay,” Sylvia said sympathetically. “It looks like you’re really allergic to it.”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  She went to the conference room where she found the caterers had provided carafes of coffee, a variety of teas, juice, muffins, croissants and Danish. Clutching a cup of coffee, Sylvia returned to the lobby to wait for people. She was beginning to feel brighter as the caffeine course through her veins. They couldn’t have asked for a more perfect summer’s day. Sylvia was glad the humidity was down. When Owen arrived a few minutes later he looked haggard and drawn. She had wanted to be cool towards him, but was shocked at his appearance.

  “Owen, you look terrible!” Sylvia exclaimed, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” he said curtly. “I just need some coffee.”

  “There’s some brewing in the conference room,” she said. “Why don’t you get some and relax until the people arrive.”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding relieved.

  Sylvia couldn’t help but wonder why he was in such as state, but she didn’t have too long to think, as the Stream Watch team started to arrive. She showed them to the conference room and passed out packets and kits while everyone chatted and had coffee.

  She opened the group by welcoming them to Thurmont and passed around a sign-in sheet. She introduced herself and Owen who stood, sipping coffee and nodding in acknowledgement. Everyone went around the table introducing themselves and then Sylvia went over the facts, why the stream watch was needed and the contents of their packet. Owen used some overhead transparencies and shared the types of life that they might find in the stream. They asked everyone to pick up their things and head out to the stream. Sylvia led them from the front door, through the staff picnic area and down to the stream. The sunlight dappled through the leaves as they gathered at the edge waiting for direction. The stream sparkled in the sunlight and gurgled invitingly over the rocks. Owen gave them step-by-step instructions on what to look for and demonstrated how to test the water and sieve for critters. They volunteers practiced and were enthused when they found larvae and other items listed on their sheet. Owen gave a brief lecture about stream health. He voiced his concerns that the stream’s health was fairly poor and he hoped that due to the clean up that it would improve. Sylvia thanked everyone for their time and handed out Thurmont T-shirts. She said she would be in touch to return in a couple of months to return and continue the watch.

  She and Owen walked everyone back to the parking area before they returned to the stream area to get the kits. While Owen was assessing each of the kits and making sure they were put together properly, Sylvia hopped across some stones to the other side of the stream. She stopped and listened once she had climbed the embankment. All was quiet as before. She reached out and touched a tree. There was no life force surging through it. She walked a little and felt another. She felt no life force surging through the trunk. She tried another and another, wondering if the recent gift was lost. As she looked up at the branches overhead, she noticed most of the leaves were hanging limply and realized all of a su
dden that the trees had no auras. They were lifeless. Not caring about the muck, she walked from tree to tree, in almost a state of shock, touching and looking hoping to find some sort of life. Nothing. Dead leaves littered the ground. She looked up and the leaves still attached to the branches were pale, limp and lifeless. It gave her a horrible empty and sickish feeling. Sylvia continued walking through the eerily quiet forest. When she came to a small clearing, she saw something that puzzled her. She saw something a short distance away that was pale and white compared to the surrounding earth and woods. Was it a branch or lifeless plant? She walked over to take a closer look. What she saw was a white hand sticking out of the muck. She looked closer and retched. It was definitely someone’s hand, and that meant that the rest of the person was probably buried beneath her. Sylvia screamed—silently inside at first and then she screamed louder and louder, over and over, unable to stop. She shrieked Owen’s name and “help” and just screamed.

  Owen came running.

  “Syl!” he called out, “Sylvia! What’s wrong?” His face was pale and worried and he took her by the arms and forced her to look up at him. Sylvia stopped screaming out loud, but words didn’t come out. Her body was rigid. Owen held her at arm’s length with concern in his eyes. Shakily she pointed to the hand sticking up out of the soil. She held onto her stomach again and buried her head into Owen’s chest her whole body trembling.

  “Oh my God,” Owen said faintly. He stared at the pasty white hand too, not wanting to get too close.

  “We need to get someone,” she said shakily. “We need to call the police.”

  Woodenly she walked back through the trees, across the stream and then started to run back to the building. Fortunately Ed had left the door open for their group in case they needed anything, but Sylvia didn’t see any sign of him. The first phone she could find was at the security desk in the front lobby where she dialed 911, not thinking of her cell phone in her car. Owen had caught up with her and they both sat in the sunshine until the police arrived. It seemed like hours and finally one squad car arrived. Two policemen got out and she explained what she found and led them to the hand. They looked and immediately called for back up as well as an ambulance and they started questioning her and Owen as to why they were in the area and how they found the hand. More police eventually arrived along with the ambulance and the coroner. Sylvia watched from a distance clutching Owen’s arm as they exhumed the body. She caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair and gasped. The plain-clothes detective nearby caught her reaction and came right over.

  “Do you know her?” he asked demandingly. He was a tall man with hard muscles and the strength of iron, his graying hair was cut in a military fashioned crew cut. He looked down at Sylvia at her diminutive level and had to look up at Owen with delving eyes.

  “Anna!” she said in a whisper. “I think it’s Anna!”

  “Anna, who?” prodded the cop more forcefully.

  “I d-d-don’t remember her last name,” Sylvia said shakily. “She’s a scientist here.”

  “Anna Hansen,” Owen told them quietly. “She is” he hesitated, “or was a colleague of mine.”

  “You’d better come over with me to see if you can identify the body,” the cop said.

  They walked over to where the body had been exhumed. It was Anna. What was horrible was that it looked like something had been eating away at her skin. Trails of flesh had been eaten away and on her arms and legs you could see the muscles’ sinewy tissue.

  Sylvia walked over to lean against a tree and was quietly sick. The detective came over with sympathy in his eyes.

  “It’s never easy,” he told her quietly and he handed her a tissue. “Especially if they’ve been buried for a long time.”

  Sylvia’s head shot up. “But, she was alive a couple of days ago!” she told him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked sharply. “Usually bodies with that much decay…” he stopped.

  “I saw her in the cafeteria with Owen two days ago,” she blurted out unthinkingly and stopped and looked guiltily at Owen. There was a lump of fear in her stomach that started to build into a knot.

  “Well,” the cop drawled, “I guess I’ll need to ask him some further questions,” the cop said turning to go back to Owen.

  Sylvia wanted to sit down, but not in the muck.

  “Could I go back to the picnic area to sit down, Officer?” Sylvia asked.

  He turned back to her and saw she was still pale. “Sure,” he said and he called to another policeman, “Hey, Joe! Come here!”

  ‘Joe’, a tall, young uniformed policeman with a nearly shaved head of blond hair and bright blue eyes walked over to where they were standing and Officer Smith asked him, “Would you take this young lady back to the building’s picnic area and let her sit for awhile. I need to talk to her friend for a minute.”

  As nice as he was, Sylvia couldn’t help but catch the note of satisfaction in his voice. He turned to walk over to Owen who was standing like a statue, unable to take his eyes from the body.

  “He thinks Owen killed her,” she thought, almost saying it aloud. She walked back to the picnic area with ‘Joe.’ They sat at the picnic table. As warm as it was, Sylvia felt chilled in the shade.

  Joe looked at her sympathetically and said, “It’s shock, I’ll go and get you a blanket.”

  He walked back to the squad car and Sylvia sat shivering with her teeth beginning to chatter. Nausea filled her and she rested her forehead on the table. She was grateful when Joe put a blanket around her shoulders.

  He started to talk, just in general, asking her name and telling her his was Joe Collins. He told her he had been a cop for five years. He talked about the weather, sports, and any general knowledge. He didn’t expect Sylvia to answer and she was grateful. He was trying to take her mind off the horror that she had seen. Some of the chill went away. Her teeth stopped chattering and she started to converse with Joe. It wasn’t long before Owen walked back with Officer Smith and another plain-clothes officer. The trail of other emergency personnel followed them.

  “It’s like a grisly parade,” Sylvia thought.

  Officer Smith led Owen over to where she was sitting. She was a little warmer now and had let the blanket fall some. She pulled it around her for comfort and looked up at the two with hollow eyes.

  “You’ll both need to stay in the area for additional questioning,” Officer Smith told them. “Thank you for your statements. We’ll be in touch if we have further questions.”

  Sylvia and Owen nodded at him in acknowledgement. He went over their personal information again and where they could be reached and then told them they were free to go. Sylvia folded the blanket and returned it to Joe.

  “Thanks,” she told him. “Thanks for the blanket, and for sitting and talking with me.”

  He flashed a smile at her and took the blanket. “Sure,” he said, “Take care.”

  She turned to Owen who was pale underneath his tan. The police had already brought up the stream watch kits and left them by the building door. Sylvia went over to grab a few and take them to the trunk of her car.

  “Let’s go,” she said quietly to Owen.

  He walked duly over to the kits and picked up the rest. Sylvia could see the shock was hitting him.

  “Do you want to leave your car here and I’ll take you home?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, “I’d rather just get home.”

  “Look,” Sylvia said, “I’ll follow you to Marian’s or would you rather just come over to my place?” she asked.

  “Let’s go to Marian’s,” he said quietly. “She might be able to help.”

  Sylvia followed Owen the few miles back to Marian’s house. She wasn’t home, but Sylvia went in to get Owen a beer thinking that he might be better off with a straight shot of whiskey. She poured herself a tall glass of Marian’s delicious cool spring water. It was so cold it made her teeth ache and she greedily gulped a glassful and refilled it before she went back out to Ow
en. He was sitting in the sunshine staring at nothing. Sylvia handed him the beer, which he took and drank in thirsty gulps. They didn’t speak.

  When he had finished, Sylvia finally asked, “He—Officer Smith thinks you did it, right?” Sylvia guessed.

  Owen sighed heavily. “I think so,” he said. “He didn’t come out and say so, but he certainly hinted at it. I’m not sure about the other detective though.”

  Sylvia did all that she could not to ask, ‘did you?’ As if catching her thought, he looked at her.

  “What do you think?” he asked her pointedly.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Sylvia replied. “I don’t know if you would have just cause, but you would have cause…” she stopped and chewed at her lower lip, “And people have killed for less,” she commented uncomfortably. She stopped again for a moment and sighed. “But it made me realize that I really don’t know you, all that well and that frightens me a little bit,” she admitted.

  He kept looking at her, those hazel eyes that melted gold and green and brown together. She looked back. As she looked she thought and thought and listened with her heart.

  “No,” she said, quietly yet firmly. “I don’t think you killed her, but I wonder who did?”

  “I don’t know,” Owen answered her. “I haven’t a clue.”

  They sat quietly and Owen reached over and took her hand and held it firmly. They sat that way, not talking, not thinking until the crunch of tires came up the drive. It was only after Marian’s cheery greeting rang across the lawn that they broke their hands and turned towards Marian.

  “Hello, you two!” came her cheery greeting. “How was the stream watch?”

  When she reached them and saw their faces her cheery smile changed to concern.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked with concern when she saw their faces.

  Owen and Sylvia looked at each other and then at Marian. It was Owen who spoke first.

  “Things turned out a bit differently than we had planned,” he said quietly.