by J A Whiting
“Mary taught Sunday school here.”
“Yes she did. She had worked as a teacher in elementary schools before she had her own children. She was a natural with the kids, very sweet and kind. Mary did a lot for the church, helped out with funeral meals when she could, served on some committees. A hard worker. Cheerful, pleasant. Someone that people enjoyed being around.”
“I’m curious about my cousins…the case,” Olivia said. “I want to talk to people in town who lived here when it happened. I guess I’m trying to get a sense of them. Was Mary friendly with the other priests?”
“Father Paul was only here for a couple of weeks before the crime. Father Anthony was friendly with most of the young families. They would organize softball games, hikes, canoe excursions. Lots of activities that appealed to the younger crowd.” He chuckled. “Even back then, I preferred the spaghetti suppers and things of that nature.”
“Would you say Mary and Father Anthony got along well?”
The priest looked directly at Olivia. “Olivia, I know the talk that went around. I heard the gossip.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask. I’m just trying to understand what happened to my cousins.”
The priest said, “To my knowledge, there was nothing unseemly between them.”
“It would be quite an accusation. It would have hurt the congregation if something like that was true,” Olivia said.
“It would have been a blow, yes. But it wasn’t true. Mary was an upstanding woman. She wouldn’t have engaged in such behavior.”
“What about Father Anthony? I apologize for being blunt…but, what if he had had a willing partner?”
The priest’s face clouded. “Speculation is unfair, especially when a person is not available to defend himself.”
Olivia nodded. “He was transferred I understand,” she said.
“He was.”
“Very soon after the murders.”
“Yes.”
“Where did he transfer to?” Olivia asked.
“California. I can’t recall the specifics.”
“You aren’t in touch then?”
“At first we kept in touch. But then busy schedules got in the way and we no longer kept up contact.”
“You don’t remember what parish he was in?”
Father Mike sighed. “My memory isn’t what it was, I’m afraid.”
Olivia held his eyes.
“You could try the diocese office. I’m sure they have records.”
“I’m not accusing, Father, really I’m not,” Olivia said.
“And I’m not trying to protect him. Or conceal anything,” Father Mike said.
“I’m just trying to figure out what happened to my cousins,” Olivia told him.
“Anthony had a magnetic personality,” Father Mike said. “He was fun, witty, engaging. Everyone was drawn to him. He was a handsome man.” Father Mike paused, and then said, “I cautioned him to be wary of people’s perceptions. To be careful not to give the wrong impression to people…to the women, especially. Sometimes friendliness and caring can be misconstrued to be something other than it is. It’s a fine line and a delicate balance to maintain, especially for an attractive, young priest.”
Olivia said, “I can see that could be hard…to maintain boundaries.”
Father Mike looked down at his hands. “In some ways it seems very long ago and in other ways, it feels like yesterday. I remember the horror I felt when I found out. The terrible anger.” He looked at Olivia. “Mary and her daughter stopped in at the church hall sometime around 2:30pm that day. She dropped off some paint for the recreation hall.”
Olivia sat up. “Did you see them?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“How do you know they were there?”
“The new gallons of paint were in the rec hall.”
“But how do you know what time they brought the paint to the hall?”
“The police know that they stopped at the hardware store to buy the paint around 2pm that day. And they were killed between 3 and 4pm.” The priest sighed. “I often thought what might have been if I had seen Mary that day when she stopped by. Just a short conversation may have eliminated her encounter with the killer. A few minutes here and there may have made all the difference.” He paused. “It would be easy to lose faith when such a terrible thing like that happens.”
Olivia understood those feelings. “How do you cope with such a thing? How do you support your parishioners through that? I would feel so …so…” Olivia’s voice trailed off.
“Betrayed? Abandoned? Hopeless?” Father Mike said.
Olivia adjusted her position on the seat to face the old priest. “Yes, all of those things.” Her voice was soft. “Where was God then, Father? When they were having their throats slit?” Olivia looked out across the green lawn. “Where is God’s loving hand when someone decides to kill? Why doesn’t His hand stop it…keep it from happening…keep good people safe?”
“Do you believe, Olivia?”
She shook her head slightly. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t. I suppose I’m an atheist…or maybe an agnostic…or a humanist.” She smiled weakly, and Father Mike nodded.
“I understand,” Father Mike said. “Belief is…complicated. And, sometimes, infuriating. And there are times when I question…oh my, there are times.”
“But you still have your faith?”
He nodded. “I do. Through all I have seen, I come back to it. My belief remains.”
“In a way, I envy that,” Olivia said.
They sat in silence for a minute.
“I believe in everlasting life, Olivia. I believe that your cousins are at peace. I also believe that punishment may not be meted out in this lifetime, but that what needs to be accounted for…will be…in time.”
Olivia sighed and nodded. “Thank you for talking with me.”
Father Mike patted Olivia’s hand and said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Chapter 14
Olivia sat hunched over one of the microfiche readers at the Howland Public Library. She had spent an hour looking through reels of old newspaper stories and found the information that Jackie’s father had shared about the guy who pulled a knife on two women from the next town.
The story reported that a month before the murders, two women were in Howland taking a walk on a wooded trail when they were approached by a man and a woman who asked for a ride to the next town over. They said their car had broken down. The women agreed.
Once they had traveled several miles, the man sitting in the back seat of the car pulled a knife on the women and ordered them to drive to the town north of Howland. The man and the woman got out near a bus stop and disappeared. The next day, that woman was captured and identified the man as an escaped convict who had been living for several weeks in the Howland state park near the old abandoned prison camp. The man remained at large but was picked up in another state on June 5 on a misdemeanor charge.
So the convict couldn’t have been the murderer, Olivia concluded, as he was arrested in another state on the day of the killings.
Olivia checked the library wall clock and decided it was time to head back to the house. She wanted to go for a walk and thought Lily would like an outing. She packed her notes and printouts in her bag, took the stairs down to the lobby, and stepped outside into bright sunshine. Olivia squinted as she walked to her car.
When Olivia reached for the Jeep’s door, she noticed something white fluttering on the windshield. She reached around and pulled a piece of paper from under the windshield wiper.
LEAVE IT ALONE was printed in the middle of the paper.
Olivia’s heart thudded. She glanced around the parking lot but there were only a few cars parked here and there. No people were around. She looked at the paper again. The words sent a chill down her back. Not many people knew she was researching the murders. Who would write this? Why?
Whoever it was knew what kind of car Olivia drove and that she was a
t the library. Olivia’s eyes narrowed and she could feel anger pricking her skin. She crumpled up the paper and stuffed it into her bag. She got into the Jeep, started it up and pulled away from the library going much faster than she should.
Olivia turned into the driveway of the house just as Jackie’s red truck was starting to back out. Olivia parked her car and got out slamming the driver side door. Jackie stopped her truck.
“Hey, how’s it going? How was the library?” she called out of her truck window.
Olivia stared at her. “How did you know I was at the library?” she said evenly.
“You told me.”
“Oh. Right,” Olivia said.
Jackie studied Olivia for a few seconds. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Olivia answered. “Sorry, I’m distracted. I need to go for a long walk.”
“Okay.” Jackie moved the truck backward again preparing to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Olivia stormed into the house and into the kitchen. She filled a glass with cold water and downed it in three gulps placing the empty glass on the counter. Who left that note? Why should I leave it alone? Who has something to hide?
Olivia jumped as Lily’s wet tongue lapped a path across the bare skin of her leg.
“Lily,” she laughed. “I didn’t hear you come up.” Olivia scratched her behind the ears and Lily did a little jumping thing with her two front paws. The dog’s eyes were bright and happy. Olivia’s distress and anger started to fade.
“You’re a good one,” Olivia told her. “How about we go for a walk? Let’s go to the rail trail.” The Howland area had an extensive system of rail trails, former rail lines that had been converted to passive use trails which threaded throughout Massachusetts beside roadways or through woods and forests. Now these pathways were used for walking, biking, and jogging.
Lily woofed and she followed Olivia upstairs. The dog sat patiently tapping her tail while Olivia changed into her exercise shorts and shoes.
Chapter 15
Before the events of last summer, Olivia had been a jogger. She never called herself a runner because she felt she was too slow for that description. She always said that she didn’t go very fast, but she could go pretty far. In college, she had no trouble “running” six or seven miles every other day with a shorter jog of two to four miles on her off days. Because of the stabbing injury to her gut last year, Olivia had been taking long brisk walks but hadn’t tried to do any jogging. Jackie had recently taken up running and had worked up to doing two to three miles a day, five days a week.
There was a club of runners in the Howland area that got together each week to run and Jackie was at the point where she felt she could keep up with some of the slower members. Jackie’s friend had been nagging her to take part in the running club but Jackie always refused. The next running event was going to be held on the rail trails in Howland and Jackie couldn’t think of a good excuse not to go, so she asked Olivia if she wanted to try it out with her. Olivia was reluctant.
“But you’re in good shape from all the walking you’ve been doing,” Jackie said. “And there are different groups. There are people from elite runners to the slow pokes and everyone in between. You pick which group you’re going to run with. They have different routes and distances mapped out for each group. It might be a fun way to get back into jogging.”
“I don’t know, Jackie,” Olivia said. “I’m not going to be able to keep up with anyone.”
“I bet you’ll surprise yourself. It could be fun. It’s no pressure and my friend says it’s a great group of people. And they all go out for beers afterwards.”
“Well, in that case,” Olivia laughed, then hesitated. “Maybe. Let me think about it.”
“Come on,” Jackie said. “Don’t make me go alone. I can’t tell my friend I’m not doing this event.”
“You can run with your friend.”
“She’s in the advanced group.” Jackie made a sad face.
“Oh, okay. I’ll go,” Olivia conceded. “Can I bring Lily?”
“Great, thank you,” Jackie said. “Dogs are welcome but they have to be leashed. I’m glad you’re not making me do this on my own.”
***
The weather on the evening of the running club event was perfect for exercising. The air was dry and comfortable. Jackie picked up Olivia and Lily and they headed for the state park.
“Perfect day,” Jackie noted.
“I was hoping it would rain,” Olivia deadpanned.
Jackie chuckled. “You’ll do fine.”
“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” Olivia said.
“It’s just because you haven’t run for a while,” Jackie told her. “You can alternate jogging and walking. It’s a good way to start again.”
People were parking in one of the big fields next to the rail trails. Jackie pulled the truck in beside a line of cars and they got out and headed in the direction that other runners were walking. Every body type and shape was represented in the gathering, from long lean marathoner looking bodies to short and stout men and women. There were teenagers in athletic clothes standing around chatting, adults stretching and signing in at a table, and a number of dogs greeting one another.
Lily looked eagerly at the other dogs and wagged her tail. Jackie and Olivia followed behind Lily and headed for the check in table. As they passed a Mercedes wagon, a blonde woman in a tank top and shorts was pulling a big box out of the back of the vehicle and it slipped from her hands and crashed to the ground causing the contents to spill over. A round of cursing followed the impact. The woman bent to gather the materials and Olivia walked over to help.
“Let me help you,” she said.
The woman looked up. “Olivia.”
“Emily,” Olivia said.
They both stood.
Olivia introduced Emily and Jackie. “And this is Lily.”
Emily shook hands with Jackie but ignored the dog.
“I’m running late. I’m supposed to be checking people in,” Emily said. “I’ve got all this stuff to carry.”
“We can help,” Olivia offered. She bent to gather the things that had fallen from the box. Olivia picked up cords of rope, some sort of pick type things, metal loops, a harness, shoes with rubber soles, and gloves.
“That’s my climbing equipment. Just throw it all back in the box,” Emily said. “I was trying to move it to the side of the hatch to get the folding table out.”
“Let me give you a hand,” Jackie offered. There was a mountain bike on top of the table and the two women pulled the bike out and then removed the metal table.
“This is the car I use for all my athletic equipment,” Emily said. “I should replace it with a van. I really need to get this stuff in order.”
Olivia put the box of equipment back in the hatch.
“Could you carry this box of t-shirts over to the check-in table?” Emily asked. “And there’s a container of forms and pencils in the hatch somewhere.”
The women picked up the boxes and headed for the first registration table.
“I don’t know why I offered to help with this. I have a triathlon to train for next month,” Emily said.
“Wow,” Jackie said. “Ambitious.”
“Training for that must take up all your time,” Olivia said.
“I swim or bike in the mornings and run here on the trails on the weekends. After work, I run on the roads. This is going to be my last one, though. Too time consuming with my other commitments. Only marathons from now on.”
There was a long line of runners waiting to check-in and only one young guy trying to handle all of them. “I thought you’d never get here,” he grumped at Emily.
“I run a business,” she snapped. “You’re lucky I made it here at all.”
Jackie and Olivia exchanged glances as they set up the table and placed the container of forms and the box of t-shirts on top of it.
“Can we do anything else?” Olivia asked.
“Thanks. I’ll handle it from here,” Emily said.
“Somebody’s stressed out,” Jackie said as they walked to the back of the line.
“When I met with Emily’s sister, she told me that Emily pushes herself in every area of her life,” Olivia said. “She’s sure hard-driving.”
“Not one of my characteristics,” Jackie smiled.
“She’s got a ton of money. Obviously she’s smart, good-looking, fit. But she doesn’t seem happy, does she?” Olivia said.
“Some people are just sour.”
“Born that way or made that way by life?” Olivia asked, thinking of Emily’s past troubles…her controlling parents, Kenny Overman suspected of murder, her boyfriend James drowning in his pool.
“Maybe some of both,” Jackie said.
Chapter 16
Olivia sat at the bar of Howland’s Sports Bar Restaurant. She was meeting Jackie for dinner and decided to arrive early and get a drink at the bar. The edges of a headache had been threatening all day and she wanted to get in out of the unseasonable heat that had returned to the area. She took a sip of her iced tea just as her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. The text message indicated that Jackie was running late. Olivia didn’t mind, she was enjoying the air-conditioned coolness and listening to the comments of the other patrons who were watching the Red Sox game on the big flat screen television over the bar. A group of middle aged guys were cursing and praising different players.
Look at Lackey. He’s improved.
That Lavarnway kid could become a major force. Just needs more experience.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. A fast ball was hit to center field causing the group to moan.
Yeah! Nice play, Jacoby! The guy next to Olivia hit the bar with his hand to emphasize his appreciation of the talents of the Red Sox centerfielder. He turned to Olivia.
“So, what do you think? Are they gonna make the playoffs this year?” he asked.
Olivia took another sip of her iced tea. “They have the talent. They’re doing well. I hope they don’t end up breaking our hearts,” she told the guy.
