“Who did then?” Owen asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said, thinking of Ed. She couldn’t think if he was right or left-handed. “But, I don’t want to think about it right now,” she said to Owen turning to him.
“All right, Scarlett. You can think about it in the morning,” Owen teased. “Let’s go up to bed.”
Yawning, Sylvia took the empty champagne bottles and glasses to the kitchen.
Owen brought in the cheese and crackers. They went up to bed and Owen held her tightly for a long, long time.
Sylvia woke earlier than usual. She had been awake, off and on, during the night, not able to shake some of her feelings about who killed Anna. She wondered if anyone else was significant on the list of suspects. The morning was hazy. Mist rose from the bay in a thin layer of fog. It looked mysterious in the early half-light of dawn. It was still humid and Sylvia’s thin cotton nightgown clung to her in the moist air. She took her steaming cup of coffee out to the deck. Everything was silent and still. The water gleamed like a piece of mirrored glass beneath the fog. The warmth of the morning air felt good after the chill of air conditioning during the night. Owen liked the air temperature at a near frigid level. Sylvia missed the cool breeze and white noise of Marian’s whole house fan. She sighed audibly and turned when she heard a familiar rustle. It was the Green Man.
“Good morning,” she said, “it seems like a lifetime has passed since I last saw you.”
He nodded, causing the leaves on his head and beard to rustle more.
“Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia,” he chanted softly, “Maiden of the woods,” he said cocking his head with a sly grin.
Sylvia blushed and started to look uncomfortable.
“Don’t fret,” he said. “Remember some think of me as the god of fertility.” The Green Man chuckled.
“You look quite…” he searched for words, “…content,” he said finally.
Sylvia laughed a little and said, “That’s a little surprising considering everything that has happened in the last few weeks, but you’re absolutely right. As usual,” she added as an afterthought.
She sipped at her coffee and they both looked out at the bay and the rising mist before she spoke again. She told the Green Man about the upcoming weekend with Headley and the deal with the police and how a tiny spot of fear was beginning to grow inside of her.
“I only came to let you know I am nearby if you need me. Don’t let fear grow,” he advised. “Think joyful thoughts if you can.” He took her in his arms to hug her gently and kissed her first on the center of her forehead and gently on each eyelid. The leaves tickled her. “Veriditas,” he murmured.
“What did you say?” Sylvia asked in a whisper.
“Veriditas,” the Green Man explained, “Remember? It’s a term coined by the great Hildegard of Bingen. It means the ‘greening of the soul,’” he said stepping back a step, but still having a leafy arm cradling her back. “That’s something that has been happening to you—recognizing your gift of auras and the ability to feel the life force,” he told her. “But you will soon find that your gift is increasing by leaps and bounds.”
“Veriditas,” she said, trying out the word.
The Green Man smiled. “Call me if you need me,” he said and he kissed her eyelids gently before releasing her.
He disappeared and Sylvia shook her head, “How?” she asked the air. And then she blinked. She didn’t have to focus for auras, they were brilliant, almost too brilliant as she looked at the bright haze around the plants and the outline of energy on things. It would take her awhile to get used to this new way of seeing. She returned to the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. When she looked at the vase of flowers Owen had brought to replace Headley’s token, she noticed one of the flowers was dying. It was like watching time-lapse photography as she watched the image of the flower dying in a swift, yet minute colored slide show. Sylvia gasped quietly in amazement. She glanced up at the time and hurried to shower glancing first in at Owen’s sleeping form. He had moved into the warm spot where her body had been and he was hugging her pillow. His aura was pulsing quietly. She went over to kiss his shoulder and he groaned in his sleep and pulled the pillow closer. She showered and dressed, tiptoed downstairs to get him coffee and brought it back upstairs to the bedside table. She kissed him again on the shoulder and the cheek and said goodbye. He opened his eyes a little and giving her the startled look of a suddenly awakened child, he blinked and pulled her down for a long kiss before letting go.
“Have a good day,” she murmured.
“You too,” he said.
Sylvia drove to work and couldn’t stop thinking of the word the Green Man had murmured. “Veriditas,” she would need to look it up on the Internet if she got the chance. She drove, with the darkest pair of sunglasses that she could find, as the auras shone brightly from the life around her. It was difficult to drive. She wanted to sit and enjoy and practice this new way of seeing.
When she arrive Mr. Carter handed her a typed agenda of Friday and Saturday and suggested that she take the afternoon off to find something ‘suitable’ to wear to dinner on Friday evening. He waved his hands when he said it and shook his head and she knew he wanted nothing to do with it. “Not my idea,” he said.
She looked at him carefully and with her new found sight, she saw that his aura was muddied and slightly gray.
“Are you all right?” she asked him. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”
“Oh,” Mr. Carter said, “It’s just persistent heartburn.” He pulled out antacid tablets. “Some people munch on mints,” he said, “and I munch on Tummy mints.”
She glanced at the schedule and saw that a Limousine would pick her up at her home and they would all be transported to an exclusive Inn and restaurant nearby. Saturday would be brunch, bay days, a helicopter ride and then meetings. She was scheduled to be at Bay Days after the helicopter ride.
Sylvia sat numbly down at her desk and emailed Carol what was up and spent some time answering email and searching for information on Hildegard of Bingen. She was amazed to learn Hildegard was a 14th century Nun with extraordinarily revolutionary ideas. Hildegard had visions. Sylvia knew from her reading, that she most likely was able to see auras. Not having scientific methods, Hildegard matched plants with their characteristics with the illnesses. Sylvia wondered if she could match the auras of the plants with the people…an interesting hypothesis. Sylvia was also fascinated to learn that Hildegard of Bingen wrote and published music and plays. An initial search on the Internet led Sylvia to several recordings. Groups around the world devoted themselves to her choral works. When Mr. Carter told Sylvia to ‘shoo’ and go off shopping—bosses orders—she thought she might stop by the book and music store to pick up a CD of Hildegard’s music and a book on her theories. Sylvia drove carefully to the mall, but she didn’t have her heart into looking for an attractive dress to wear in front of Headley. She found a simple, tailored sleeveless black crepe dress with an interesting neckline and matched it up with high-heeled black sandals. She knew Gran had had some simple dramatic gold and onyx jewelry that would set off the dress well. Satisfied with her purchases Sylvia made her way through the mall to the book and music store. They only had one book on Hildegard of Bingen which she purchased and ordered another. There were several CD’s available and Sylvia ended up closing her eyes and making a choice. Leaving the mall, she popped the CD into her car’s player and, listened to ethereal women’s acapella voices. She stepped out of the car at home in a daze, the music still in her ears. She automatically went in through the kitchen, dropping her purse on the countertop and walked through to the deck. Owen was there with his feet propped up on the railing, reading. He looked up at her when she came out and jumped up to give her a kiss.
“Are you okay?” he asked looking at her dazed face.
“Yeah,” she said softly, and then shaking her head, “Yes,” she said. “I was just caught up in a new CD,” she told him.
“What was it?” he asked, curious.
“Hildegard of Bingen,” she said.
“Who?” Owen asked.
Sylvia gave him a brief rundown on Hildegard and on her music. He went out to get the CD and they sat and listened to it while they had a drink.
“It’s not really my cup of tea,” Owen admitted, “but, it’s not too bad.”
“Hungry?” Sylvia asked him.
“No,” Owen said. “Not really, it’s too hot. What do you have in the bags?”
Sylvia rolled her eyes. “An ‘appropriate’ outfit for tomorrow night,” she said exaggeratedly. “We’re to go to the Old Mill Inn for dinner,” she told him.
“Wow,” he said, “They’re pulling out all the stops for these folks.
“They want to sell the company,” Owen said. “Do you know who the potential buyers are?” he asked.
“Not a clue,” she said.
“Let me see the dress you bought,” he said.
She pulled out the little bit of black crepe. Owen asked if she would try it on and when she did, it clung in all the right places.
“Wow!” he commented when she walked into the room. “You look fabulous, I’m not sure I want you to wear that for Headley” he told her.
She walked over to him and he unzipped her in one swift movement and the dress fell to the floor in a little puddle around her feet. She stood in the high heeled black sandals and her black lingerie as Owen breathed “Wow” again and sent tingles up her spine.
Chapter 28
The gloom of the world is but a shadow;
Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take joy.
--Fra Giovanni
Sylvia was surprised that Headley had not been a pest this week. She wondered what was up or if he was trying some weird form of reverse psychology. She was still wary of him and worried most of the morning about the dinner that night. She spent her time going to the local park to scope out the tent sight for Bay Days with Mr. Carter. He still didn’t look well to her, his aura even grayer than the day before. The intense heat and humidity certainly didn’t help and she urged him to drink cold water instead of coffee or caffeinated soda. Ed wasn’t looking much better either. He and a co-worker, Joe, had driven a company truck to the site and worked to set up the tent and tables they would use the next day for their display. Ed’s arm still had not healed and he was clearly in pain. She helped unload some of the parts and held poles in place while the men heaved and worked to get the tent in place. They set up tables and Ed said he would be back in the morning with the boxes of materials, display boards and air tank to blow up the balloons.
“Don’t forget a couple of chairs!” Mr. Carter called after him.
“God, I hope he heard me!” Mr. Carter said. “I can’t imagine being out in the heat like this tomorrow and need to stand the whole day.”
“I’ll throw a couple in my car when I get home,” Sylvia told him, “as a back up.”
“Thanks,” Mr. Carter replied. “Let’s get some lunch,” he said and he nodded at a restaurant that was next to the park and on the water. Sylvia gratefully sank down into the seat of the booth and let the cool air conditioning waft around her. They ordered cold drinks immediately and Sylvia drank the glass of water before the iced tea she had ordered even arrived.
“Is it always this hot here?” Mr. Carter asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sylvia said. “It seems particularly bad this year, especially with the humidity.”
“Horrible,” he said, wiping his face with his handkerchief even though they had been sitting in the cool for several minutes. “You know I only live about fifty miles away, but that fifty miles makes a tremendous difference with the humidity.”
“I think it’s because we’re on the bay,” Sylvia commented.
“Nervous about tonight?” Mr. Carter asked her, changing the subject.
Sylvia nodded.
“You should be,” Mr. Carter said, “Off the record, I think Headley is an asshole. Be careful.”
“I’ll do my best,” Sylvia replied.
“Wish I knew how to get you out of it,” he said, shaking his head.
Their food came and they were silent while they ate. Mr. Carter asked for a rich dessert, but Sylvia declined. Between the heat and her nerves, she wasn’t very hungry.
Mr. Carter told her to go home after lunch.
“I’ll be seeing you in the morning,” he said when they walked out to their cars. “Here, don’t forget to wear this T-shirt in the morning.” He tossed a T-shirt to Sylvia. Thurmont was going patriotic this year and decorated the navy blue T-shirts with Thurmont emblazoned in red and white across the front like a baseball team.
“Thanks,” Sylvia said, “See you in the morning.”
She drove home trying not to think about the evening with Headley. Owen wasn’t at her house and she called Marian. Marian invited her over for the afternoon and Sylvia gladly accepted.
Even though the sun was blazing, the heat seemed to slightly abate with the shade of the forest driving to Marian’s house. Owen and Marian were sitting on the patio, Owen’s legs propped up on another chair. She gave Marian a long hug and turned to Owen for a long kiss. A little breathless, she sat down and Marian poured her a tall glass of homemade lemonade.
“You’re out of work early,” Owen commented.
“Mr. Carter told me to go home so that I had ample time to get ready for this evening,” she said.
“I don’t like it,” Owen said. “Even if you are doing this for the police, I don’t trust Headley.”
“I know,” Sylvia sighed, “neither do I.”
“Why don’t you go back to Sylvia’s house with her, Owen,” Marian suggested. “That way you’ll be available if Sylvia needs you when she gets home this evening.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve always wanted to do that body guard thing,” he quipped flexing his muscles.
Sylvia laughed, “You can be my bodyguard anytime,” she told him. She glanced at her watch. “I should be going,” she said. “Will you be coming too?” she asked Owen.
“Definitely,” Owen said. “Let me get a couple of things.” He went back into the house and came out with a small duffle bag and a thick book clutched in his hands.
Sylvia gave Marian a hug. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she said.
“Be careful,” Marian advised, “and keep your ears open.”
Sylvia rushed to get ready while Owen hovered about.
“You don’t need to look too nice,” he said worriedly as she slipped into the clingy black dress and was putting on make-up.
“Jealous?” Sylvia teased.
“You bet,” he said.
A female detective arrived in an unmarked car and helped Sylvia hook up a wire underneath her clothing. She showed Sylvia how it worked and gave her some tips.
“We’ll be close by if you need us,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ve been through this a hundred times.”
“Owen, you should probably stay out of sight when Headley arrives,” Sylvia said.
Owen nodded. They went downstairs to wait for Headley. Sylvia was nervous and paced. She checked her make-up and glanced at the clock for the millionth time.
She was startled when the back door bell rang. She had become so used to everyone using the kitchen door, that she nearly forgot there was a back door. Even after living at Bayside full time, it was still a little confusing that the ‘back’ door faced the road and the ‘front’ door faced the bay. She kissed Owen quickly and went to answer it.
The limousine driver was waiting and said ‘Good Evening’ to her and motioned for her to get into the car. Sylvia closed the door and nervously went to the stretch limo that filled her driveway. The driver opened the door and she got in. Headley was sitting there, grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.
“Oh!” Sylvia gave a little cry, startled that he was in the limo.
“Good evening, Sylvia,” Headley said. “You look lovely,” he told h
er taking in the little black dress.
“Thank you,” Sylvia replied.
“Champagne?” he asked her.
“Why yes, thank you” she said, still nervous, taking a flute from him. She took a sip. “Mmm, champagne, I never get enough.” What a stupid thing to say she thought to herself. It sounded like something from an old movie. She thought she heard Headley mutter something like ‘you will tonight.’
“Excuse me?” she asked. “Did you say something?”
He held up his glass to toast her, “to the lovely Sylvia.” He cocked his head to look at her. “There’s something different about you tonight. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Sylvia clicked her glass with his but couldn’t look him in the eye and drank the champagne much too quickly. He quickly filled her glass again while he was talking about the evening. As he talked, he moved closer to her and she felt stuck like a rat in a trap. She wasn’t frightened of him any longer. Now she was angry at his audacity to think that he could push her around. She didn’t think that he killed Anna, but probably had felt reason to if he was jealous of her sleeping around. Personally, like Carol, she thought he got a kick out of it. She glanced slightly past him and saw his aura. It was still strongly streaked with yellow. He was quite close to putting his hand on her leg when the driver of the limousine turned sharply into the hotel and Headley had to catch himself to keep from spilling his champagne. Sylvia thanked the driver in her head.
“Damn!” he muttered, “clumsy driver.”
They waited a few minutes until the guests from the other company arrived. The door opened and a sandy hair young man stepped in to say, “Good Evening, Headley.”
His name was Jim Tucker and he nodded to Sylvia and before he said, “I’m sorry to tell you there has been a change in plans. Peter was unable to make it, so the company sent Natalie in to pinch hit. The sandy haired gentleman backed up and motioned for someone to get in. “Natalie” stepped into the car and Sylvia almost gasped aloud at her beauty. She flashed a smile at Headley and Sylvia, bright white teeth against perfectly tanned skin. She was, in fact, tan all over and a white chiffon halter dress and gold sandals set off the tan. Her hair was brown with gold highlights in a very chic pageboy. The sandy haired gentleman climbed into the limo and made introductions. He introduced Natalie Browne to Headley and Headley introduced Sylvia to Natalie Browne and to Jim Tucker. Natalie extended her slim hand to be shaken. Headley opened another bottle of champagne and served it to everyone while they drove to the small restored inn near the Maryland/Pennsylvania line.
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 35
