by J A Whiting
Olivia considered and pointed to the left. “This way.”
They walked on for another ten minutes and came to a small clearing. They could see the trail picked up again between the trees on the other side of the field. They crossed to the far side and headed along the path which inclined up the side of a hill.
Brad said, “Maybe we should head back, Liv. Joe might be wondering where we are.”
“Okay,” Olivia replied and then smiled. “But he’s probably still sound asleep.”
Just before Olivia turned around, something in the distance caught her eye.
“What’s that near the top of the hill?”
Brad leaned forward to get a better look between the trees. “It’s a building.”
“Let’s go see.”
The trail leading to where they were headed was overgrown, so they ducked and pushed aside branches as they trudged up the slight incline. They emerged from the woods into a large expanse of manicured lawn. An in-ground swimming pool could be seen near a large brick mansion situated at the top of the crest.
Olivia eyed the place. “This is the Bradford mansion. I talked with Isabel Bradford and her daughter, Angela here. I recognize the room with the wall of glass looking over the terrace and pool. This is Magnolia Hill.”
“The area of Howland with all the mansions? This is quite a place,” Brad said. “Do they have armed guards patrolling the grounds?” he joked.
“Emily Bradford told me that she used to meet Kenny Overman in a field behind her house. She would sneak out sometimes. That clearing we just came through at the bottom of the hill. That must be where she used to meet him,” Olivia said. “I didn’t realize that their property backed up to the state park land.”
A dog barked somewhere in the distance and Lily’s ears perked up. She started to advance towards the sound but Olivia took hold of her collar.
“No, Lily. Come on.” Olivia turned her around. “I guess we should get back to Joe,” she told Brad. The three stumbled through the brush to return to the trail.
When they reached the car, Joe was snoring in the front seat. Brad and Olivia exchanged impish grins. Careful not to make any noise, they took small, slow steps until they were right next to the open car window. Brad looked at Olivia and mouthed, ‘one, two, three,’ and then he and Olivia let out blood-curdling shrieks.
Joe startled from his nap and jerked straight up in the seat, blinking, trying to orient himself to his surroundings.
“Idiots!” he shouted at Olivia and Brad who were doubled over, laughing. “Are you damn fools trying to give me a heart attack?” Joe grumped at them and shook his head.
Chapter 21
On Sunday, Brad followed the line of cars past St. Catherine’s Church and pulled into the field which was being used as an overflow parking area for those attending the annual church yard sale and festival. Joe, Olivia and Brad left the car in its spot and headed back to the sidewalk that led up to St. Catherine’s.
“I had no idea this was such a popular town event,” Olivia said.
“Quite a turnout,” Joe remarked.
“You should have set up a table to sell all of the stuff you’re removing from John’s attic,” Brad said.
“Yeah.” Olivia grinned. “And then keep all the profits for myself,” she joked.
The church parking lot, the rec hall, and the field behind the church held food vendors, games for kids, craft tables, and tables and booths filled with all kinds of items for sale from yard sale trinkets to professionally crafted specialties. A band was set up near the food tent and the musicians were playing a mix of country, blues, and pop songs.
Joe was fascinated by a booth that sold wooden decoys, bird houses and furniture and he struck up a conversation with the man who handcrafted all of the items. Olivia admired a table of handmade jewelry and purchased a pair of dangly sterling silver earrings. Brad lingered over a table of out of print books.
The sky was bright blue and the day was warm and clear. It seemed everyone in Howland was at the event.
“I wish I hadn’t eaten lunch,” Brad said, eyeing the food concessions.
“I bet that won’t stop you,” Olivia teased as they approached the food tent where sausages sizzled on grills, individual pizzas were made with every topping possible, and soft serve ice cream was dipped into chocolate, caramel, or strawberry icings.
“Oh, look, fried dough.” Olivia trotted over to a food truck.
“Well, if she’s going to indulge, I’m right behind her,” Joe admitted.
“Sausage truck?” Brad asked.
“Yup,” Joe said.
Olivia met the guys at one of the picnic tables set up under a huge beech tree. She took the bench opposite them and bit into her fried dough. Powdered sugar dusted her nose and lips.
“Looks good on you, Liv,” Brad told her between bites of his sub sandwich of sausage, peppers and onions. Joe had one too and they had a plate of onion rings set on the table between them. They each had a frosty mug of beer next to their plates.
Olivia took a sip from Brad’s mug. “What should I get after this?” she asked.
“At this rate we’ll have to roll back to the house,” Joe noted.
“Or explode before we get there,” Brad said.
As the guys made short work of the food, a man’s voice spoke over the PA system announcing a tractor pull event at the far end of the back field. Joe and Brad grinned at each other.
“Go,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “I’m happy sitting here in the shade. Come get me when it’s over.”
The guys jumped up and hurried off like little kids. Olivia shook her head and chuckled as she finished off her fried dough.
“Hey.” A woman’s voice called. Olivia turned to see Jackie heading towards her with a gigantic banana split. “My dad and brother took off on me when they heard that tractor pull announcement. We were going to share this,” Jackie said. “Looks like you’re going to have to help me now.” She sat on the bench beside Olivia and placed the dessert between them.
“Oh, Jackie, no,” Olivia groaned.
“Here’s a napkin.” Jackie put a napkin and spoon in front of Olivia. “Eat.”
They dug in.
“Is it this crowded every year?” Olivia asked scooping a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, hot fudge dripping off the spoon.
“Depends on the weather,” Jackie said. She pointed at Olivia’s chin where a blob of fudge had landed. Olivia swept her tongue over her chin and giggled.
“Nice manners,” Jackie said.
In between bites, they ate and chatted, enjoyed the music and watched the people. Jackie and Olivia made plans to go for a jog the next day on the rail trails after Jackie finished up work. They polished off the banana split and Jackie left to go look for her relatives. She asked Olivia to join her.
“I’m not leaving this bench,” Olivia said. “I’m too full to move. I need to digest a bit before I go off walking around,” she kidded.
Just as Jackie left, Olivia saw Father Mike strolling towards the table, an older woman holding on to his arm. Olivia waved.
“Olivia,” Father Mike puffed. “May we join you?”
“Please.” Olivia indicated the opposite bench.
The priest put his cane against the picnic table, helped the woman balance as she arranged herself on the bench and then maneuvered his own legs over the seat and plopped down.
“The golden years,” he chuckled. “Not sure what’s so golden about them.”
The woman nodded her head. She was petite and slightly stooped. She had straight, silver gray hair, cut short with bangs brushed to the side. She wore slacks, sensible shoes, and a cardigan.
“Martha, this is Olivia Miller,” Father Mike said. “She is the young woman who is researching the Monahan’s murders. Remember I mentioned her to you?”
The woman reached across the table to shake Olivia’s hand.
“Olivia, this is Martha Martin. She was born in town and has
lived all her life here.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Olivia said shaking Mrs. Martin’s hand.
A young man delivered two plates of pasta, salad, and a French roll to the woman and the priest. They thanked the young man profusely.
“Olivia, can we share our meal with you?” Father Mike asked.
“Oh, thank you, but I’ve eaten way too much today already,” Olivia told him.
Mrs. Martin picked at her meal. “Father Mike tells me you were cousin to Mary Monahan and her daughter.”
Olivia nodded and told her that she never knew of them until she found the newspaper reporting the murders.
“A sad event in the history of our town,” said Mrs. Martin.
“Did you know Mary and her daughter?” Olivia asked.
“Not well. But she and her family attended church here and I knew who the family was.” She took a small bite of her roll and shook her head. “Long, ago. But the feelings seem fresh.”
“True,” Father Mike said. “I hadn’t thought about the crime for so long…and then when Olivia asked me about it, I was surprised how emotions flooded back.”
“Things changed here because of the murders,” Mrs. Martin said. “Before the killings we were so easy-going. But after that we all locked our doors. We worried who the murderer could be. It made us suspicious of others.” She sighed. “I made my son tell me where he was going and who he was with.”
Father Mike nodded.
“I would feel the same way,” Olivia said. “I’d want to know where my child was every minute.”
“But it ends up that the natural events of the day are the real dangers,” Mrs. Martin said.
Olivia wondered what she meant.
“Unfortunately,” Father Mike said. He touched her shoulder.
“It’s been almost forty years that James passed,” Mrs. Martin continued.
When she heard Mrs. Martin’s comment, Olivia’s brain made the connection. James. James Martin. Angela Bradford told her that Emily dated James Martin after Kenny Overman left town.
“James was your son?” Olivia asked.
“Yes.” She paused. “He suffered an accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
Mrs. Martin pushed the pasta around her plate. “He drowned in our backyard pool.”
“How terrible,” Olivia said.
A middle aged woman came over to Father Mike and whispered something into his ear.
“Would you ladies excuse me for a moment? Martha, are you all right sitting here for a bit?”
“Yes, Mike. Go ahead. I’m fine.”
“I’ll be here,” Olivia said.
The middle aged woman helped Father Mike remove himself from the picnic table, handed him his cane and took hold of Mike’s arm as they moved toward the recreation hall.
Mrs. Martin went on talking about the accident. “It was just over a year after the Monahans were killed that James drowned. I wondered if there was some curse put on our little town. How could two such terrible events happen in Howland? That’s what I wondered.”
Olivia nodded.
“And, poor Emily.” Mrs. Martin looked up from her plate. “That poor girl. Emily Bradford. Have you heard her name as you talk to people in town? She dated the young man who was considered a suspect in the Monahan murders.”
“Yes,” Olivia said. “In fact, Emily met with me to give her impressions.”
“A lovely woman. After the murder suspect left Howland, Emily and James started to date. I hoped it would lead to something eventually. Emily was there the night James drowned. She had gone into the house to use the bathroom and when she went back outside he was at the bottom of the pool. She tried to get him out.” Mrs. Martin put her fork down. “I don’t think poor Emily ever recovered. I know I haven’t.”
“It must have been a terrible shock,” Olivia told her.
“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Martin looked off into the distance. “It’s odd. I had an odd feeling that evening. Maybe it was a premonition of what was to come.”
“A premonition?”
“My husband and I were to attend a function in Boston that night. James and Emily were sitting by the pool. They had used the grill to cook burgers for dinner. I was going to let them know we were leaving and say goodbye to them. When I entered the screen room off our kitchen…it overlooked the pool area…I could hear Emily crying. I stopped, wondering if I should go out to them or just leave them be. They seemed to be arguing over something. I didn’t want to intrude on them so I went back in the house. We left for Boston without saying goodbye.” Mrs. Martin’s eyes were filled with sadness. “I should have said goodbye.”
Olivia wanted to say something comforting but was unsure of what might help. “You didn’t know what would happen.”
Mrs. Martin gave Olivia a sheepish smile. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, dear. But when Father Mike brought up the Monahans, and it being this time of year, all those thoughts rushed into my head.”
“It’s okay,” Olivia said. “I understand.” Olivia didn’t want Mrs. Martin to feel badly that she had talked about her son’s accident, so Olivia asked, “Have you kept in touch with Emily?”
“Oh, my, she has been very helpful to me. My husband and I divorced about a year after James’ passing. We both had to deal with our grief. We handled it in different ways. We weren’t there for each other and we grew apart.”
“I’m sorry.” Olivia didn’t really know what to say and felt inadequate murmuring such useless phrases.
“Emily visits me now and then. Calls me.” Mrs. Martin leaned closer. “She has been very helpful to me financially.”
Olivia was surprised. “That’s very kind of her.”
“I told her that it was unnecessary. That I could manage. But the truth is I would struggle without her help. I’m very grateful to her.” Mrs. Martin’s voice was wistful. “She would have made a lovely daughter-in-law.”
“Do you know what Emily and James were arguing about that night?”
“When I was in the screen room that evening I thought I heard them talking about the Monahans. That’s what I meant by a premonition…thinking they were discussing the Monahans made me feel that something bad was going to happen. Whatever it was, Emily sounded angry and upset. Almost, hysterical. That’s why I stayed inside and didn’t go out to them.” Mrs. Martin sipped her water. “I asked Emily about it once. She brushed it aside. She said they had been drinking and that a minor thing got overblown. She said the argument was nonsense.”
Olivia nodded. “Most arguments are.” Olivia wondered why Emily and James would be discussing the Monahans and if they were talking about them, what could have caused Emily to be so upset?
Olivia noticed Father Mike tottering over to them.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he sat down.
“We had a chat.” Olivia smiled.
“She is very pleasant company,” Mrs. Martin told Father Bill.
“I guess I’ll go find my friends now,” Olivia said. “It was nice to see you Father Mike. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Martin.” They shook hands.
As Olivia made her way to the back field, she wondered how on earth a tractor pull could keep two grown men’s attention for so long.
Chapter 22
Olivia, Brad and Joe took bikes to the rail trail after the church festival and completed a fifteen mile ride partly because they were guilty for all the eating they did at the church. When they returned to the house, Joe and Brad took Lily for a walk while Olivia made beef and veggie tacos for dinner. She made Spanish rice and a green salad to go with them. The guys and the dog returned from their walk just as Olivia was finishing setting the weathered wooden table on the deck with flowers, dishes, silverware and linen napkins. Joe and Brad carried the food to the table and Olivia fed Lily. They lit candles, opened a bottle of wine, and settled down to munch just as the sun was setting over the trees.
“I’m looking forward to you being home in August,” Brad said to Olivia
as he added homemade salsa to his tacos.
“It seems like you haven’t been home in ages,” Joe added.
“I know. It feels like that to me too,” Olivia said. Thinking about being back home in Ogunquit caused the anxiety of last summer’s violence to flash through her veins and coil hard in her stomach. She wanted to tell Brad and Joe about her fears and how those fears had prevented her from returning to Maine but she didn’t know how to start. Her fingers shook as she reached for her wine glass.
“Well now that you’ve had a successful first year of law school, maybe you can come home some weekends this coming year,” Brad said. “Now that you’re used to the workload and the routine.” He looked across the table at Olivia. “I miss you.”
“Things aren’t the same without you,” Joe said.
Olivia’s eyes misted and she swallowed hard. “I hope so. I want to.”
They cleared the table when they were finished and Olivia brought out tea, coffee, apple pie and vanilla ice cream. It was nearly dark and the soft light from the candles flickered over their faces as they enjoyed the dessert.
When the pie was eaten and the coffee finished, Joe and Brad helped Olivia clean up, loaded their bags into the trunk, and fastened the canoe and kayak to the top of the car for the trip home.
“We’ll see you soon, sweet pea.” Joe hugged her. “Stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll try,” Olivia said. “I can’t promise though.” She smiled at him.
Brad bear-hugged her and kissed her as he stroked her chestnut brown hair. Olivia couldn’t help a tear escaping from her eye. Brad brushed it away. “I feel the same way,” he whispered. “I’m counting the minutes until August 1.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around him for one last hug.
Olivia waved to them from the front porch with Lily beside her wagging her tail as the car backed up, turned, and headed down the driveway to the street. Olivia watched until the red tail lights disappeared. She sighed, patted Lily’s head, and the two of them went into the house.
***
Olivia sat in her pajamas curled up on the sofa reading. Lily sprawled out on the floor at Olivia’s feet. Olivia was sorry to see Brad and Joe leave. The weekend visit made her homesick for the coast of Maine, her house there, and the daily interaction with the men. Her thoughts of them made it difficult to focus on her book.
