Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  “You’re right, Lexie. He’s gone.” Her father’s face was like stone as he checked his old friend’s pulse. “Where’s his phone?”

  “Jacket pocket.”

  Norris slid Silas’ phone from his pocket with the hem of his shirt. He thumbed through the recent photos and deleted the ones of Alexa standing on the promontory. Then he took a photo of the sky before he threw the phone against the rocks a few feet from Gabler’s body.

  Even through her shock, Alexa marveled at her father’s unexpected gifts of deception. She knew covering up a crime was anathema to her dad. He lived by the rule of law. And Silas had been his friend for almost half a century. This had to be tearing him up.

  Hugging Alexa, Norris apologized, his voice tight with self-recrimination. “I’m so sorry, honey. I asked you to get involved in that bastard’s trafficking commission. Then I couldn’t refuse when he hinted about coming here to visit. Even in college, Silas had a nasty greedy streak, but I ignored it because of the good times we shared. Are you all right?”

  “I’ve been better.” Alexa felt so tired. All she wanted to do was climb into bed and make this all go away.

  “When we get back to the house, you need to fall apart just a bit. You don’t want to be too calm when we tell Cynthia what happened. Or when you talk to the polizia. Lucky your face isn’t bruised.” He took a long, angry look at Alexa’s battered arms. “Remember to wear long sleeves.”

  Alexa managed a wan smile as she wiped away another tear. “Piece of cake. It’s all I can do to hold it together.”

  The police investigators accepted Alexa’s story about Silas’ selfie accident. When Alexa told them about the senator’s fatal misstep, the investigators nodded. In animated tones, they shared examples of other selfie accidents involving cliffs, moving vehicles, guns, wild animals, and other strange situations.

  “However, most of these accidents are with young people. So impulsivo, the young. And always the telefonino; the Twitter. The Instagram.” The lead investigator shook his head. “But an unusual accident for someone of so many years.”

  “The senator liked his photos.” Alexa didn’t know what else to say.

  “Ah, un senatore. Si, si, signorina. Il politico. Say no more.”

  Surprisingly, even the distraught Cynthia Gabler accepted Alexa’s tearful explanation. Norris arranged for a local lawyer to help Cynthia with the complicated process of dealing with the American embassy, local death registration, a post mortem, the Examining Magistrate, and the insurance company. Following several days of formalities regarding the senator’s death, Cynthia flew back home with his body.

  Her parents’ support helped Alexa through the difficult week. She hated lying to Cynthia and the police. She hated letting Silas get away with murder. Even though he’d already paid with his own death, she felt his crimes should become public. But she heeded her father’s warning. She didn’t want to become the next Amanda Knox, caught in the wheels of an uncertain Italian justice system. When the Italian authorities ruled Silas Gabler’s death an accident, Alexa trembled in relief.

  She decided to spend one more week in Umbria, glad her parents gave her the space she needed. So, Alexa spent her days walking through hill towns, wandering into dusty churches, and sipping wine at outdoor cafés. In the late afternoons, she’d hole up in her magical room at the villa and sip more wine. The week before Silas and Cynthia arrived, she and her parents had visited a monastery in Tuscany, the Abbey of Sant’Antimo. She’d been so entranced by its monks’ famed Gregorian chants, Alexa had bought their CD. Listening to the soothing rhythm of their voices as she watched the evening shadows steal over the valley below brought Alexa some measure of peace.

  “We’re coming home in a few weeks. The renovations to the villa are complete, and we need to spend time with you and Graham and the kids,” Susan told Alexa on the drive back to Florence.

  “You know Kate and the kids are spending most of the summer at their new beach house?”

  “We do. They’ve invited us to stay for a few weeks in July,” Norris interjected.

  “Then we’ll head back here for August and September. I want to see the sunflowers in full bloom.”

  “Honey, take care of yourself. Silas Gabler and those fracking industry robber barons wreaked death and havoc on too many people. It makes me sick that you and John got in their way. We are heartbroken about John, but your mother and I are so glad that you survived Silas’ attack.”

  “Silas got what he deserved,” Susan muttered.

  “You’re right, Mom. Silas paid with his life, and Keisha and the lobbyists are going to jail. But I’m not sure that balances the scales. John, a young intern, Senator Martinelli―they’re all dead. Little Tessa Demeter may not survive to see her next birthday. And how many other people’s lives have been ruined by fracking?”

  Alexa leaned back in her seat and watched the fields whiz by the car window. Although they’d taken the Autostrada on this return trip, she still caught glimpses of La Bella Toscana from the superhighway. Olive trees, wheat fields, clear blue sky. Despite the ugliness of Silas’ death, Alexa had fallen in love with Italy. She spied a field of plants, their spiky stems brimming with furled green buds. She sighed. “I really wanted to see the sunflowers bloom.”

  “You’ll be back, dear.” Susan smiled. “Italy’s now your second home.”

  Back in Pennsylvania, Graham, Kate, and Alexa’s friends overwhelmed her with their concern. They’d all seen the twenty-four-hour news coverage of the “Senator’s Deadly Selfie” and wanted to make sure Alexa was OK. When Melissa brought Scout home the day Alexa arrived, she’d insisted on spending the night. Alexa appreciated her friends’ support. But, after a few days, she pushed them all away. She threw herself into work, but spent her spare time alone, with Scout, attempting to process everything that happened.

  One weekday evening in June, Alexa had a surprise visitor. Stretched out on a deck chair, she listened to the wind sigh through the pines. When she recognized Walt Jordan, Alexa swung her legs over the side and rose. Scout stood at full alert, tail wagging in anticipation of meeting someone new.

  “I hope you like big dogs.” Alexa moved to the deck railing and tried to quell her misgivings. She hadn’t seen Walt since she left his room at the hospital.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever met one with a head that big, but I love dogs.” Walt walked up the steps and addressed the mastiff directly. “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Scout. He’s harmless.”

  “I see.” As he spoke, Walt rubbed the dog’s ears. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m surprised you drove the whole way out here. But it’s nice to see you.”

  “Right. I worried when I learned you were there in Italy when Senator Gabler died. It happened at your parents’ home, right?”

  Alexa nodded. “They own a little villa in Umbria now. Really, more of a farmhouse.”

  “The capitol is buzzing. How totally weird is it that the last two chairmen of the Energy and Environment Committee died in falls. Of course, Martinelli was murdered. I guess you’d call Gabler’s death careless.” Walt’s tone was chatty, like he was gossiping with a colleague. “But I can tell you. Nobody’s lining up to take the chairmanship now, even though it’s considered a plum position.”

  “Sit, please.” Alexa gestured to a chair at the outdoor table. “Would you like a Coke or iced tea?”

  “Iced tea would be good.” Walt removed his suit coat and took a seat. He chuckled as he watched Scout chase a ball around the yard.

  When Alexa returned with two glasses of iced tea, she took the chair next to the representative. “Anything new on the fracking bill?”

  “Good news. When the truth came out about Senator Martinelli’s death, the Senate took a big leap back from that bill. With the Toland gang arrests and Monongas under investigation, leadership got very nervous. I don’t think they’ll touch fracking with a ten-foot pole for the next several sessions. No one wants th
eir constituents asking questions about how deep the corruption might run.”

  “That is good news. Something positive blooming out of the ruins. From what I’ve heard, you played a major role in engineering the backlash against the Senate bill. You’ve led the charge on every major TV and newspaper outlet, right?” Alexa tried to find the right tone. She and Walt had let their guard down during their flight from Nason Kurtz. But, that had been a unique situation.

  Walt sidestepped her praise. “What’s the news on the little Demeter girl?”

  “With all the negative publicity, Monongas was anxious to settle the case. And they were very generous. Jeannie and Tom will have millions of dollars to pay for Tessa’s medical bills and any long-term consequences of her illness. But, on the medical front, I don’t know. After that crisis at the time of the hearing, they got her into a new clinical trial. Last time I spoke to Jeannie she said this treatment seems to be working. But they won’t know for quite some time. They’re hopeful. The whole thing is a damn shame.”

  Walt nodded. “I can’t imagine something like that happening to one of my kids.” After a moment of silence, he said, “Look, I hope you don’t mind I drove out here uninvited. But we haven’t really spoken since that night everything went down in the capitol. You’ve had a rough few months. Seeing Carmine die. Dealing with your boyfriend’s death. Then Gabler’s accident. I truly just wanted to see how you’re coping.”

  “I’ve been better. But I’ll survive.” Alexa gave him a crooked smile as she weighed what she was about to do. But she owed it to Walt, and she felt she could trust him. “Is your law license still active?”

  Walt looked puzzled. “Of course. I need an occupation to fall back on when they finally kick me out of the House.” He grinned.

  “I’d like to retain you then.” Alexa pulled a worn dollar bill out of her shorts pocket. She’d stuffed it there when she’d made a run to Keck’s store for milk.

  “I don’t really practice, you know. What’s this about?”

  Alexa handed Walt the dollar. “Humor me.”

  He accepted the bill and laid it on the table. “All right. I agree to represent you.”

  “I doubt I’ll need your representation beyond today’s consultation, but I wanted to ensure confidentiality.” Alexa leaned close to Walt even though they were alone amid acres of uninhabited forest. “The Italians ruled Senator Gabler’s death an accident, which it was. But what they don’t know―the senator toppled over the edge in an attempt to throw me off the cliff.”

  “What?” Walt sat up in his chair. “Why would he try to harm you?”

  “Kill me,” Alexa corrected him in a somber tone.

  “Bastard.” Walt’s shout brought Scout running back to the deck.

  “It’s OK, boy.” Alexa turned from the dog back to Walt. “I’m trusting you because it’s the answer to the riddle. The end game with Martinelli’s murder. It’ll never come out in court, because it doesn’t help either Toland or Monongas in their case. Especially now Gabler’s dead. But killing Martinelli had a dual purpose. Yes, he got cold feet on the fracking bill. But, more important, Gabler wanted that chairmanship. Toland acted as the conduit, bribing Gabler with Monongas money to get the bill passed.”

  “So Gabler was in on it?”

  “Yeah. And he had an even bigger stake in the outcome. He’d been buying up land in Adams County―on the border of Michaux where Monongas had determined there were deposits of gas. They were going to use this new drilling process to tap the gas. They’d promised him thousands of dollars an acre to lease the land. Then they were going to point to their success in Michaux and leapfrog onto other forest land with the new technique.”

  Walt let out a long whistle. “That explains a lot. Keisha covered for him. I’m surprised.”

  “They must have been paying her off, somehow.”

  Walt wrinkled his brow. “But why did he try to kill you? He escaped the indictments. No one was going to know the role he played in the whole conspiracy.”

  “At dinner, his wife let something slip about this land in Adams County. He knew I would put two and two together eventually. Plus, he was furious you and I blew it all up. It was personal. He’d dreamed about all the money for so long he wanted to make me pay.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t want to relive the details. We struggled. He got too close to the edge. It could have just as easily been me.” Alexa shuddered at the memory. “And I lied about what happened.” She let out a deep sigh.

  “As your attorney, I’m bound by attorney-client confidentiality. Although it sounds as if the Italian authorities are satisfied with their verdict of accidental death?” Walt’s reassuring lawyer-babble reminded Alexa of Graham.

  “They are. I don’t want to burden you with my secrets. But you deserve to know the whole story.” Alexa took a long sip of tea.

  “Wow, I can’t believe what these fracking monsters have put you through. And, of course, your state trooper friend, John, paid the ultimate price. All to stop a conspiracy based on greed, pure and simple.”

  “Don’t forget, you took a bullet.”

  Walt raised his arm. “It’s all better. Just a twinge every once in a while if I knock this arm against something.”

  Alexa smiled. “Your dad would have been proud to know you’ve followed in his footsteps.”

  “He would’ve been proud of you too.”

  The talk of conspiracy and death faded into lighter discussion of Walt’s kids. Alexa felt a passing ping of regret. Though she felt a real bond with Walt, she could never get involved with a married man. The two sat, drinking tea and chatting until shadows lengthened over the mountain. An owl hooted in the distance. “What a great place you have here, Alexa,” Walt spoke after a few minutes of silence. “It’s good for the soul.” He touched her hand then rose. “I better get back to Harrisburg. We’re in session tomorrow.”

  Scout followed Walt down the stairs to his car, but Alexa stayed on the deck. “Thanks for coming out here to check on me.”

  “I’m glad I did. If you need further legal advice, just let me know.” Walt hesitated a moment, then climbed into the car.

  With a pensive smile Alexa watched the car fade into the twilight.

  On Saturday morning, Alexa could barely contain her excitement. Haley had delivered a healthy baby girl last night. Blair had called with the good news and insisted she come to the hospital to meet baby Charlotte. She jumped into the Mini and hit the button to open the top. It was a glorious day, warm and sunny. Perfect convertible weather. As she drove out the long lane to the macadam road, Alexa took it slow, savoring the sounds of birdsong and the fresh smell of pine wafting on balmy air. At the intersection of the lane and Route 233, Alexa pulled on a baseball cap to corral her hair and popped a CD into the player.

  Heading down the mountain, wind rushing through the car, Alexa smiled in sheer delight. Hard to believe the first day of summer was just a few days away. She stole a glance at the envelope sticking out of her purse. Just yesterday, she’d received a letter from Reese. A long letter, not an email. He was coming home from Africa for a while. He said he missed her. Just looking at the envelope made Alexa’s wounded heart sing.

  When Alexa downshifted into a right turn, the whistle of the wind eased, and Gregorian chants filled the car. She’d become quite of fan of the Abbey Sant’Antimo’s Gregorian chants. She giggled. How small the world had become. Here she was in Pennsylvania, driving a German car, thinking about a guy in Africa, and listening to a CD of French monks chanting in Latin from their monastery in Italy.

  The slower speed required by the narrow, winding road allowed Alexa to take in the profusion of greens and reds around her. The trees had all unfurled tender new leaves. Beneath them, masses of mountain laurel displayed delicate sprays of blush pink. New growth sprouted in the wheat field to her left.

  The monks’ voices soared into a chorus of Alleluias just as Alexa caught a flash of red to her left. She
lowered the audio and slowed the car to watch the gleaming red fox, prancing a path through the tender shoots of wheat. Alexa brought the Mini to a complete halt so she could watch the beast. She was astounded when he also stopped, no more than twenty feet away. As he stood there in a shaft of sunlight, dust motes dancing around his body, the animal’s glossy coat took on an ethereal crimson glow.

  For a moment, Alexa and the fox gazed at each other as if caught in a spell. Then, the fox broke the magic moment. Unafraid, he ambled across the road ahead of the car and disappeared into the hedgerow.

  Alexa put the car into gear and moved forward, a beatific expression on her face. These several months had been difficult, but the fox and the blooming spring around her reminded Alexa of the resiliency of nature. She was resilient too. It might take more than a season, but Alexa knew she would survive.

  Afterword

  Dead of Spring is a work of fiction, and its characters are drawn from my imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, organizations, or companies is purely coincidental. The only exceptions are public or historical figures, such as those who played a role during the Three Mile Island crisis.

  Many of my references are based in fact. Hydraulic fracturing is taking place in the Marcellus Shale across Pennsylvania and in other places around the country. It’s a well-publicized fact that fracking is controversial. There are many opponents and proponents for the process. To my knowledge, the “new” process that would allow the non-shale areas to be fracked exists only in my imagination.

  The Pennsylvania State Legislature and the committees named in the novel also exist. However, the legislators and activities of those committees in this book are entirely fictional. On the other hand, Pennsylvania’s State Capitol Building is a National Historic Landmark. Everything described in the building and the Capitol Office Complex does exist. I fear, however, that I have fallen short in describing the beauty of the capitol building and the national treasures it houses.

  The near-disaster at Three Mile Island in 1979 holds a unique place in American history. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission states that the partial-meltdown of TMI’s Unit 2 reactor was “the most serious accident in U.S. commercial nuclear power plant operating history.” The description of the Three Mile Island event is drawn from my own memories as a State employee who worked in Harrisburg at the time. I also relied on news articles and academic research on the incident.