Marian looked puzzled.
“Maybe you’d better sit down,” Sylvia told her.
Marian sat and faced both of them before she said, “Well, it looks as though you have a story to tell me.”
Sylvia nodded, “Our morning ended quite differently than expected,” she began.
Owen interrupted and stated, “Sylvia found Anna’s body in the woods near the stream.”
“What?” Marian said incredulously. “Anna? Anna Hansen? That scientist you brought to dinner a couple of weeks ago?” she asked.
They both nodded.
Marian’s usually bright, twinkling green eyes shone with a steady light. She looked from one to the other steadily.
“Perhaps you had better tell me what happened,” she said seriously.
“Someone murdered her in the last couple of days,” Owen told Marian. “I mean,” he stammered, “it’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen or talked with her.”
Sylvia nodded as well.
“Me to,” Sylvia agreed, “And it’s possible that Owen is under suspicion,” Sylvia said, “because he was one of the last people to see her alive.” Sylvia hesitated, “and after they had a very public argument.” She had to look away at that point and gazed at the gray and brown bark of the spreading oak over the patio. There was an ant finding its way through the crevices and canyons of bark. She wondered briefly where it was going.
Owen had closed his eyes as if in pain when Sylvia made that statement.
“I didn’t kill her,” he stated again.
“No one’s accusing you,” Marian said.
“We think the one detective might think he’s a suspect,” Sylvia stated quietly.
“Do you know how she was killed?” Marian asked.
They both shook their heads.
Owen continued, “She was buried in a shallow grave in the woods. The weird thing is that her skin,” he stopped, “her body looked as though it had been eaten away by something.”
Sylvia held her stomach. “It was horrible,” she told Marian not wanting to relive what she had seen.
“Was it from some sort of animal?” Marian asked.
Owen almost snorted, “Not one that I’ve ever seen,” he said. He went on to describe the way the skin had been eaten away in trail-like lines, some all the way down to the muscle.
Sylvia recoiled and closed her eyes. It still made her feel sick to think of Anna’s body. Owen finished telling Marian the rest of the story as Sylvia stared at the bark of the oak again. When he was finished, they all sat silent for a few minutes.
“Do you think you’ll need an attorney?” Marian asked Owen.
“I don’t know,” he answered miserably.
“I think it would be a good idea,” Sylvia said, adding her opinion.
“I do too,” Marian agreed.
“But, if I hire an attorney now,” Owen pondered, “Wouldn’t it look as though I was guilty?”
“I see what you mean,” Sylvia said and she sighed.
“Well, I think you need something good to eat,” Marian told them matter-of-factly. “I’ll go and see what I can rustle up for dinner.”
Sylvia started to get up to help and Marian put a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder.
“Sit,” she ordered. “Just sit and relax.”
Sylvia didn’t protest. She felt too numb. Owen took her hand and held it without talking. They sat, not talking, holding hands tightly and looking out over the meadow. The late afternoon sun turned the green meadow into gold and the oak beside them began to spread a deep shadow that reached towards the meadow. Birds began their evening conference as the twilight crept in. They both relaxed a little and Owen loosened his grip slightly on Sylvia’s hand. She looked over at him and saw his eyes were closed. She wondered if he was just thinking of if he was asleep. Before she had a chance to ask, Marian came out to call them in for dinner.
“You are amazing Marian,” Sylvia commented as they sat down to another gourmet dinner created by Marian.
“This is nothing,” Marian said. “I thought you could use some comfort food.”
“Definitely,” Owen agreed as he scooped a mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Sylvia filled her plate, but didn’t feel like eating. She took a bite or two and exhaustion overtook her. Suddenly she felt as though the effort to bring the fork to her mouth was too much.
“Are you all right?” Marian asked.
“I’m really, really, really tired all of a sudden,” Sylvia answered.
“It’s the shock,” Marian told her. “Why don’t you spend the night,” she suggested.
Sylvia almost started crying with relief. “Thanks,” she said. “Every time I close my eyes,” she shuddered, “I see that pale white hand sticking up from the ground. I can see how she was, she was,” she hesitated, “how she was eaten down to the muscle tissue. It was….grisly.” Sylvia stopped.
“Sorry,” she said, “this really isn’t dinner conversation.” She closed her eyes to the welling nausea from remembering Anna’s body, Anna’s pale, translucent skin, or the shreds that were left of it and the ragged, bloody trails as the necrosis seemed to eat through the layers. It was worse than anything she had seen on television. It was worse than any horror film she could recollect. Yet, the problem was, real. Finally, she said to Marian, keeping her eyes closed, “I don’t think I want to be at home alone tonight.”
“The room you changed in last weekend is all ready. Why don’t you go up and draw a hot bath, have a good soak and go to bed,” she suggested.
“I don’t think I can argue with that,” Sylvia told her. “Thank you.”
She picked up her plate and took it over to the sink, went back to the table to retrieve her wine glass and say goodnight.
“Leave your clothes outside the bathroom door,” Marian said. “I’ll run them through the washer so they’ll be fresh in the morning. I think I can scrounge up a clean nightgown too,” she told Sylvia.
Sylvia nodded and turned to go up the back stairs. She drew a steaming bath and drained her wine as the bathtub filled. As warm as it was outside, Sylvia felt chilled as though rivulets of icy water ran underneath her skin. She could not get warm. She climbed in and instantly her skin turned bright pink in the hot water. Sylvia tried to scrub away the horrors of the day until she lay exhausted, soaking in the warm water until it turned too cool to stay in the bathtub. When she stepped out of the bath her limbs felt heavy and were lobster red. She toweled off and peeked out the door. Her clothes were gone and in their place was a pretty nightgown of sprigged cotton. She pulled it over her head and went down the hall to the guest room. Marian had turned on the light, opened the windows and turned down the bed. Sylvia slipped between the cool sheets and turned off the light. A light breeze came in through the window and she could hear Owen and Marian’s voices drifting up the stairs. It was a soothing sound. She fell asleep immediately and slept peacefully through the night.
Chapter 19
Earth brings us into life
And nourishes us.
Earth takes us back again.
Birth and death are present in every moment.
--Thich Nhat Hanh,
Earth Prayers
Sylvia squinted in the bright morning that came streaming across her pillow. Her room at home faced west and the morning light was bright yet, diffused. This room faced east and the light from the rising sun was brilliant and filled the room. Sylvia looked around and saw that Marian had laid her clothes, now clean, on top of the bureau. Stretching luxuriously, Sylvia smelled coffee and something that hinted of cinnamon and sugar. She got up, made up the bed and dressed and went downstairs. Marian was pouring a cup of coffee and pulled a second cup out of the cupboard when she saw Sylvia coming into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Syl,” Marian greeted. “How did you sleep?” she asked handing her the fresh cup of coffee.
“Wonderfully, thank you,” Sylvia answered as she breathed in the aroma of t
he coffee.
“Sit down,” Marian suggested. “I have a coffee cake that just came out of the oven.”
“So that’s what I smelled,” Sylvia said.
Marian brought over a generous piece of coffee cake for Sylvia and one for herself. It was high and light, covered in a crumbly topping, almonds and thin streams of sugary white icing. It looked very decadent and yummy.
“Where’s Owen?” Sylvia asked as she cut into the cake with her fork.
“I sent him up to the store for a few things,” Marian told her. “He was pacing around like a caged tiger.”
Sylvia took a bite of the coffee cake that was still warm. “Yum!” Sylvia commented.
Marian smiled and nodded in response.
“Other than pacing, how’s Owen doing?” Sylvia asked.
“He’s very upset by the whole thing,” Marian said. “We talked a little last night and he told me how Anna was changing the numbers on the government reports for the superfund clean-up. I know he feels betrayed and it certainly made him look like a fool. Apparently he was boastful about the numbers when the agents came to check a week or two ago when he just started his job,” she told Sylvia.
Sylvia traced her finger around the rim of her coffee mug absentmindedly before she asked as casually as she could, “Do you know how involved he was with Anna personally?”
Marian looked at her steadily, “I know he took her out a couple of times, but he broke it off,” she told Sylvia. “I don’t know why. I assuming it was the discovery of the numbers problem.”
“By the way,” Marian said, changing the subject, “I called your Mother to let her know where you were. Murder is big news in this small community and I have no idea if the news would be picked up in the Philadelphia area. We’ve had a couple of calls from reporters already,” she said.
Sylvia looked at her in surprise. “Really! That’s something I never even considered,” she said to Marian.
“Well, I think I’ll ask Owen to follow you home, just to be safe,” Marian said to her. “We clearly have ‘No Trespassing’ signs for this area, but your home is another story. Someone could be camped out there waiting for some juicy details.”
“Great,” Sylvia said sarcastically. “Just what I need.”
“As I said, this is big news. This is the first murder in a couple of years,” Marian told her. “You might want to hire an attorney, too,” she advised.
Sylvia asked surprised, “Whatever for?”
Owen interrupted them by coming in and tossing a newspaper on the table with a grimace, “We’re famous whether we like it or not,” he told Sylvia.
Splashed on the front page was the headline ‘Body found on Thurmont Property.’ The article beneath it was brief:
Owen Anderson (24) and Sylvia Ash(22), both employees of Thurmont, Inc.,
stumbled onto the body of Dr. Anna Hansen (26), noted scientist at Thurmont, buried in a shallow grave on the property. Anderson and Ash were walking through the
wooded property after a community stream watch effort organized by Thurmont when they found the body. Cause of death forthcoming after autopsy. No comment from Thurmont executives. No comment was available from Anderson and Ash. Investigation forthcoming.
“Great,” Sylvia said. “Just what we need, media.”
“Now I am concerned about you going home,” Marian said worriedly. “Owen, will you follow Sylvia home to make sure reporters aren’t hovering about?”
“Sure,” Owen said. “No problem.”
“I guess I should go and face the music,” Sylvia said. “Thanks for letting me stay last night.”
Marian hugged her tightly and said, “Sylvia, promise me, if it’s too crazy, pack a bag and spend the night here. If they come past our ‘No Trespassing’ signs, I can call the police. You don’t have that luxury where you live,” she reminded her. “With the road so close to your house, they can lie in wait at the edge of your property.”
“Okay,” Sylvia said, her feelings of well being suddenly diminished.
She glanced at Owen, “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, “Let’s go.”
They got into their respective cars and headed down the road. When they arrived at Sylvia’s, a couple of cars and a television van were parked along the roadway. Sylvia got out quickly, locked the car and walked as quickly as she could into the house.
She heard the voices, “Ms. Ash! Ms. Ash! We’d like to talk to you a minute.”
Sylvia ignored them and went into the house. Owen got out of his car too and there was a murmur of surprise among the reporters. They called after him as well.
When he got safely inside the house, Sylvia said, “This is awful!”
Owen went over and took her in his arms and held her. “I think Marian might be right about hiring an attorney,” he said grimly. “This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”
“I know, I know” Sylvia said resigned. She leaned against him and closed her eyes for a minute. When she opened them, she saw a reporter standing at the door.
“Oh my God!” she said angrily, “Won’t they leave us alone?”
She strode over to the door and opened it a crack. Camera bulbs flashed and the steady light from a video camera shone brightly in her face. She squinted and said as politely as she could muster, “I have no comment at this time.” As she closed and locked the door she hoped she had done the right thing.
“Let’s go to the living room,” she told Owen. “Hopefully they won’t come onto the deck.”
“You know, I see this happening on the nightly news and now I understand why people get angry with the media!” she said. She grabbed the phone on the way into the living room and called Marian.
“You were right,” she told Marian as soon as she picked up the phone. “They’re here. We are besieged,” she said using an old fashioned term. “This is a private community, but it doesn’t have ‘no trespassing’ signs posted. I guess that gives them the right to barnstorm my property. I don’t know,” her voice cracked with frustration and tears on the last sentence.
“Pack a bag and come back,” Marian told her firmly.
They hung up and Sylvia sat holding the phone and looking out through the French doors at the water for a minute or two before she spoke. The water was as still as glass and devoid of sailboats for the moment. It was the only thing that seemed peaceful to Sylvia at the moment. A seagull wheeled in the sky and a few other birds caught the updrafts from the land and water.
“Marian thinks I should pack a bag and come back to stay for a few days,” she told Owen.
“I think it’s a good idea too,” he said. “You should probably bring clothes for the week, at least,” he advised in a serious tone.
“A week?” Sylvia said. She shook her head. “I guess I’m being naïve,” she told him. “I keep thinking this will go away quickly, but I guess that’s not how it works,” she said miserably.
Sylvia went up to pack while Owen flipped through the channels on the television. He also walked around checking the locks on the doors and windows. Sylvia came down a few minutes later carrying a suitcase and put it in the kitchen by the door and her dress clothes over a chair.
“You know we could lock your car in the garage,” Owen suggested, “and go together to Marian’s and to work.”
Sylvia thought about it. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m worried at leaving the house let alone the car. I don’t mind going to work together, but I think I would like to take my car to Marian’s.”
Owen nodded. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Are you ready to face the them?” he asked.
Sylvia nodded grimly. They went out to their cars ignoring the shouts from the press about where she was going and what she knew about the murder. The media followed them to the edge of Marian’s property and stopped when they came to the ‘No Trespassing’ signs. Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief when she looked in her rear view mirror. It was like sharks that had reac
hed an invisible wall and they crowded the road after their cars went through.
“Well, you know where your room is,” Marian quipped as they got out of their cars. “Why don’t you go and get settled.”
Owen took the suitcase and Sylvia took her dress clothes still on hangers and went inside and up the stairs to the room she had slept in the night before. She hung the clothes in the armoire and turned to the suitcase Owen had set on the floor. She started to pick it up to put it on the bed when he took it from her and swung it up so that she could unpack. Owen stood there, seemingly wanting to say or do something, but stood silent.
“You look as though you want to say something,” Sylvia stated.
Owen looked at her and then down at his feet and back up at her. “Syl, I have so many thoughts running through my head at the moment, I don’t know where to start or how to sort them out,” he told her.
She started taking some clothes from the suitcase and put them in an empty drawer in the bureau. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes.
“Start from the middle and work your way out,” she said as lightly as she could.
He sat down on the bed next to the suitcase.
“Do you think I killed her?” he asked bluntly for a second time.
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. “I’ve thought about it,” she said, “and deep down, I don’t think you killed Anna. I guess I’m wondering what kind of relationship you had with her and perhaps, how it impacted what happened. I have a lot of questions, too,” she told him.
“You can fire away on the questions,” he said, “But my relationship with her…” he stated. “It’s rather complicated. We worked because it was part of her job to train me for my job. She had been working with the government on the superfund clean up as her division created some of the chemicals that caused the problem and is supposed to be part of the solution. We ended up going out a couple of times, but Anna is – or was—a difficult person. She was the type of woman that liked to play with people…flattering you, using you and then taunting you. I think I was one of many.”
“Did you sleep with her?” Sylvia bluntly asked the question she had been wondering about for weeks.
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 23
