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

by Sharon Brubaker

  Sylvia still couldn’t speak. “But that makes you an accomplice,” she whispered to herself finally, still in a state of shock.

  “What did you say?” Ed asked warily.

  “Nothing,” Sylvia said, shaking her head.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off of his arm. He had started to wrap the bandage tighter and fasten it so that it wouldn’t slip. What would he do now? Would he kill her too? But, he said he wasn’t the killer. Who was? Wild thoughts went through her head. She glanced around Owen’s office for something to use as a weapon in self-defense if she needed it. Nothing, she could see absolutely nothing.

  “I need to go,” Sylvia said.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” Ed told her in a level tone. “I need to think. I can’t remember anything these days,” he said frustrated. He rubbed his head. “I need to think,” he said again.

  Suddenly he told her, “Move!” in a rough voice.

  “What are you going to do?” Sylvia asked in a small voice, panic beginning to set in.

  “Nothing, yet,” he said, “except put you in a safe place until I can figure out what to do.”

  She hesitated, and Ed prodded her with his good arm.

  “Move!” he said again. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he ordered.

  He led her down the hall to a part of Thurmont that she had never been. He opened up a pair of heavy double doors. It led to the boiler room.

  “Get in here,” he ordered.

  He pointed to a large utility closet that was filled with cleaning supplies. Sylvia was reluctant and Ed pushed her so that she stumbled and fell into the closet. The door clicked shut and he locked it.

  Sylvia wanted to scream, but there was no one to hear her. It was dark in the closet. She had been clutching Owen’s notebook when she remembered that Owen would be waiting for her at the pub. She remembered her cell phone and fumbled in her purse to get it. When she looked at the read out it did not have a signal. She tried anyway, but heard the familiar beep-beep-beep and the mechanical voice that said the call could not be placed. Sylvia sank down to the floor. She wanted to cry.

  A small sliver of light came in from under the door and a tiny bit of fresh air. The utility closet was beginning to get stuffy.

  Sylvia thought about Ed. He said he hadn’t killed Anna, only buried her. It made her wonder who had killed Anna. Was it Headley? She wondered what Ed would do. Would he or his accomplice kill her too? It seemed as though the police weren’t any closer to finding the murderer than before. How long would it take Owen to realize that she wasn’t going to make it to the pub? If he came to rescue her, would it be too late or would they hurt him too? Would the Green Man come? She had too many questions to which she had no answers. It made her head ache terribly. Sylvia rubbed at her temples. She called silently to Owen in her head. She called to the Green Man.

  Sylvia lost track of time. Nothing happened and no one came. Panic came in waves and Sylvia worked hard at keeping calm. She thought she dozed off and she woke up aching from her cramped position. She heard voices outside the door. Sylvia pressed her ear close to the door to try to hear the conversation. Was it Ed? She waited breathlessly, listening.

  Suddenly the door opened and she tumbled out. Ed stood there and an older woman. Now she knew why Ed had looked familiar. It was the woman with the flashing, angry eyes from the meeting at the library. She was the one who told her she was a traitor. It must be his mother because they looked so much alike. She, too, had bandages and they were on both arms.

  “You little bitch,” she said to Sylvia vehemently. “What did you think you were doing?”

  Sylvia didn’t answer. She didn’t see any point in antagonizing this woman. She was clearly crazy.

  “How did she know?” she demanded of Ed.

  He said wearily, “Sylvia found Anna’s body and saw the tracks on me. She put two and two together.”

  “Stupid!” she said to Ed. “How can you be so stupid.” She raised her arm as if to cuff him on the side of his head. Ed flinched and she dropped her bandaged arm that was clearly bothering her.

  The woman started pacing up and down in the boiler room muttering to herself. She was a scary sight with her bandaged arms, wild eyes and white hair sticking up on end.

  “Lock her up again,” the woman ordered Ed.

  “Why Ma?” he said, “What are we going to do?”

  “Dig a grave,” she said seriously.

  Sylvia felt faint and she reached out to grab onto something. She swallowed hard and said, “Wait! Why kill me? I’m trying to help! I’m working with the scientist to clean up and take care of whatever attacked your arms and Anna!”

  “It’s true, Ma,” Ed said.

  “But she knows,” the woman hissed to Ed. “She knows we killed the bitch who was poisoning the world!”

  “You can’t get away with this,” Sylvia said quietly. “People know I am here to retrieve some important notes. They’ll look for me.”

  “Get the keys to her car,” she said to Ed. “We’ll have to get rid of that too.”

  She paced some more, “I’ve gotta work this out. It’ll be all right,” she talked to herself as she continued to pace. “I can’t think. I can’t t-h-i-n-k in here!” she screamed at her son.

  “Give me your keys, Sylvia,” Ed said to her.

  Sylvia had tears in her eyes and she couldn’t see very well. She wiped them away and fumbled in her purse. There wasn’t an exit nearby and she didn’t think she would make it to the door. She was too slow. Ed’s mother grabbed her purse and shook out the contents. Sylvia’s keys clattered as they hit the floor.

  “Ed, please, please don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  “Get a shovel, son,” said his mother. “We’ll need a flashlight too, it’s starting to get dark.”

  “Don’t you move a muscle,” she threatened Sylvia.

  The look in Maureen Davenport’s eyes chilled Sylvia to the bone. Ed went to fetch the shovel and flashlight from the closet adjacent to where she was kept prisoner. The older woman continued to pace, but kept an eye on Sylvia.

  “Do you have any rope?” she demanded of Ed.

  “I don’t know,” he said, “What do you need rope for?” he asked in a whining voice.

  “To tie up her hands, stupid!” she shouted and this time she did cuff him on the side of his head.

  “Ow, Ma!’ he cried. “You didn’t have to go and do that.”

  The protest sounded like an old argument. Ed searched through the closets and came up with a dirty piece of old clothesline.

  “Will this do?” he asked sarcastically to his mother.

  “Fine,” she spat out at him and to Sylvia she said, “Hold out your hands.”

  Sylvia did as she was told. She kept thinking that when they reached the door to the outside, she could make a run for it. The old woman tied her hands so tightly that the rope cut into her wrists. Sylvia wondered what time it was. A big clock hung on the wall. It was 8:35. Owen must be thinking something happened by now. She called to him in her mind. She called to the Green man. She was beginning to get confused as well in her panic and didn’t understand why no one came. The older woman pushed her towards the door.

  “March, little lady,” she said.

  Ed followed her with the shovel and the flashlight.

  “Whack her on the head with the shovel if she gives you any trouble,” the woman said.

  Near the door the older woman took Sylvia’s arm and motioned for Ed to take the other.

  “Don’t even think of running,” the woman warned.

  They sloshed her through the little stream into the woods where she had found Anna and where Headley had assaulted her. Sylvia now hated these woods. She walked as slowly as she could, praying again for the Green Man to come and rescue her. Where the soil was extremely mushy, his mother ordered Ed to start digging as she held on tightly to Sylvia with her left hand. Her left hand. The pieces fell into place like bricks falling into a shallow p
ond. Maureen Davenport was amazingly strong. Sylvia suddenly remembered Maureen had snapped Anna’s neck. She closed her eyes for a moment and swayed.

  “Stand up,” Maureen tugged at her and stated with a bitter tone. “Pesky little do-gooder, just like her granny.”

  It was easy for Ed to dig because the soil was so soft. Sylvia noticed that he tried to keep the muck from his skin area and dug an area large enough to put in her body.

  The older woman started muttering again. “Should I break her neck like the last one?” she asked herself, “Or whack her with the shovel.”

  Sylvia felt faint, but willed herself to say on her feet, breathing air in through her nose and out through her mouth. She willed herself to breathe and to stay on her feet.

  After Ed had dug a sizeable hole Maureen said, “Whack her on the head, Ed.”

  Ed looked at his mother blankly.

  “With the shovel, stupid!” she yelled at him.

  “Oh, Ma!” he said, “I don’t want to kill her!” his voice had a plaintive whine to it.

  “Why do I have to do everything!” she spat at him. “Hold onto her!” she ordered, “and give me that shovel.” Her voice had risen an octave and was very loud.

  From what seemed far, far away, Sylvia thought she heard voices.

  “Over here!” she shouted wildly, “Over here! Over here! Over here!” as loudly as she could when Maureen hit her in the mouth.

  Sylvia pulled away from Ed, blood streaming from a cut lip and stumbled toward the stream. She rolled down the embankment and landed in the water.

  “Syl!” Owen cried catching up with her, “Sylvia, are you all right.”

  Sylvia couldn’t speak, she nodded and then started sobbing. He picked her up out of the edge of the stream and held her. Bill was behind Owen looking distraught. A couple of policemen had followed them.

  “Up there, I think,” Owen told them. “Be careful,” he warned, “Don’t get any of that mud on your skin!”

  “Ed, right?” Owen asked Sylvia.

  She looked up surprised, “And his mother. How did you know?”

  “Thank, Bill,” Owen said. “We were talking about the vandalism and the tent set up and somehow Ed’s name came up. He said that Ed belonged to a pretty radical environmental group, but his Mom was way out on a limb,” Owen told her.

  “She killed Anna,” Sylvia said, “His Mom thought Anna was poisoning the world.”

  “Well,” Owen said with what little sense of humor he had left, “in a sense she was.”

  They could hear expletives coming from the wooded area. Ed and his mother were in cuffs. Maureen was screaming at them, calling them murderers and then became totally incoherent.

  “Do you think I could get out of this?” she said and she held up her wrists.

  “I don’t know, Syl,” Owen said with a grin on his face. “It could be fun, you know.”

  Sylvia stared at him. “I can’t believe you’re joking at a time like this,” she said.

  “Who’s joking?” he said with a grin.

  They crossed back over the stream. Bill followed. The police wanted them to make a statement before she was able to go home.

  Chapter 31

  “Namaste”

  Months later…

  It was December and a Friday. Sylvia was trying to get the office area into the Christmas spirit. Carols played as she decorated a small tree in the office. Mr. Carter came out and smiled benevolently at her. He was about twenty-five pounds lighter and was eating better and exercising. He looked much better than he had the past summer. She hummed along with the radio.

  Owen came in to pick her up for lunch. He had a book in hand. He had been reinstated in his job and was taking graduate classes at night at State University to work on his doctorate. They wanted him as a full time doctoral fellow for his research on the micro-organism, but he wanted to work at Thurmont and try to clean things up and do onsite research at the same time. The micro-organism had been created from the mixture of the organic and inorganic materials somehow transfigured into a dangerous protist. Like the pfisteria organism, it mimicked a plant and then attacked flesh and plant life alike and sucked the life out of whatever it could sink its little microscopic teeth into. It was the horrible stain that had spread across the region from Thurmont reaching fingers towards the bay. No one would understand what she had seen, but she was glad it was being cleared through Owen and Bill’s research. They had no name for it yet, but Owen was hoping to name it himself since it was his discovery. He had already written one paper on it that had been accepted well by the scientific community. They went to lunch and talked about Marian’s solstice party the next day. The weather had turned cold, but no snow covered the ground. Marian and Jon were headed to England for the holidays and they were celebrating early with a solstice party. Marian planned for hot buttered rum, lots of candles and a bonfire.

  Carol joined them with a bowl of soup and a sandwich. She told them all the company gossip, and who they should talk to, and who to avoid at the company Christmas party the next week. Headley had been fired and the interim director seemed very nice. Sylvia had only met him a couple of times. Once when Owen was reinstated and honored for his discovery of the organism and his work to study and eradicate it. The other time when he stopped by the office for a handshake and a smile.

  Sylvia was glad it was Friday. She still had some last minute Christmas shopping to do.

  She had told Owen about the Green Man, but she wasn’t sure he believed her. Marian supported her story, but his scientific mind just wouldn’t open to the possibility of an archetype coming to life. Sylvia was a little sad, but it was something she could live with. She hadn’t seen the Green Man for awhile and that made her a little sad too. She knew she was still growing in the knowledge that he wanted her to discover, but was sad for his absence of late.

  Saturday dawned bright and cold. A few flakes of snow drifted down. The water and the sky were steely gray and it looked like snow. She brought a cup of coffee up to Owen.

  “Time to get up lazy head,” she teased.

  “I’m cold,” he growled and he pulled her down beside him.

  “No! We can’t do this,” she protested as he kissed her. “Marian is expecting us to help her set up for the party.” She got out each word between Owen’s kisses.

  “Spoilsport,” he murmured in her ear.

  “Just wait,” she teased, “and I’ll give you an early Christmas present.”

  They packed up a few things because they would be spending the night and taking Marian and Jon to the airport the next morning.

  Marian hugged them tightly when they arrived. Owen and Jon moved tables to the dining room where Marian had gold netting to place over snowy white cloths. Marian had been cooking for weeks and keeping things in the freezer. Sylvia pulled out the chafing dishes and put the small sterno cans in place for lighting later.

  It was much later when the party was in full swing when the Green Man appeared. Sylvia had gone up to the bedroom to fix her make-up and saw his reflection in the mirror. She turned and rushed to take his hands and he pulled her into a hug. She felt his joyful life force through her.

  “Sylvia,” he said, brushing his hand against her cheek. He seemed to get choked up and could not speak.

  They sat on the bed and she told him everything that had happened since the last time she saw him and he smiled down at her.

  She cocked her head to one side, “You knew all about it, didn’t you?” she questioned him. Noticing his crown of holly and oak she commented, “You look like a king tonight,” she said.

  He stood up and straightened to his full height. He looked regal in his brocade of leaf suit and his living wood skin polished smooth. Tonight he wore a crown of holly atop the oak leaves on his head regally. “It’s a special day,” he said, “the Solstice. It’s the one day when I will go to be renewed and reborn.”

  She gave him a puzzled look but, he didn’t have a chance to answer her unspoken
questions.

  “Syl,” Owen called, “Where are you? It’s time to go to the bonfire.”

  “Will you join us?” she asked the Green Man.

  He nodded without speaking and followed her out of the room. Owen gasped when the Green Man stepped into the hallway. Sylvia introduced Owen, took a hand from both and headed outside. Owen was not able to speak, but kept gaping at the Green Man’s regal form. Sylvia couldn’t help but grin. At least now he would believe her.

  It was a clear, sparkling winter’s night. A full moon was in the sky, but its light could not shadow the brilliance of the stars that shone brightly in the blue-black sky. Marian had lit a bonfire in the meadow. Its flames leapt up trying to touch the sky, higher and higher in a mixture of brilliant white, gold and orange flames.

  When the Green Man appeared, several people cheered. He nodded, king-like, acknowledging his patrons. Sylvia stared up at him in surprise and pleasure that so many saw and recognized him. They all waited and watched the flames.

  Finally at the right moment, the Green Man said, “Good-bye, Sylvia. Veriditas.”

  “What?” Sylvia whispered, dragging her attention back to him. She had been caught up in the magic of the starlight and the flames.

  “I’ll always be nearby if you need me,” the Green Man whispered and kissed her, his oak leaf moustache tickling as he kissed. It was a kiss from a friend, a mentor, but passionate at the same time. Sylvia caught her breath. “Keep looking and listening and learning,” he told her.

  Sylvia shivered. The Green Man stepped into the welcoming flames and Sylvia gave a little cry of “No!” Tears coursed down her face even though the Green Man was smiling as though the flames were like a cozy blanket. People around her were cheering and shouting, “May your days grow longer.”

  “Goodbye,” she whispered through her tears.

  Owen stood with her for a long time, his arm around her shoulders as the party guests left one by one to return to the house for warmth, and food and drink. Sylvia couldn’t take her eyes off the space where the Green Man had stepped into the flames. Owen kept urging her to come inside, to get warm, but Sylvia wouldn’t move.