“So, why is more the question,” Joe said, pondering.
“Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” Joe asked Sylvia.
“I-I don’t know,” she said shakily. “I guess I could call Marian. She and Jon are watching Percy.”
“Call them,” Joe urged. “We’ll be here a while gathering evidence.”
She did. Marian asked if they should come over.
“No,” Sylvia said shakily. “Joe’s going to stay with me and follow me over to your house.”
“All right,” Marian told her. “Be safe, Sylvia.”
Sylvia threw some clothes into her car and looked wistfully at her house. As she drove to Marian’s she called Carol and Mr. Carter and filled them in. When she stepped out of the car at Marian’s, the exhaustion hit her. Joe helped her up the walk to the door. Percy had begun to bark in happy excited barks. Jon opened the door and Percy launched out, snuffling and kissing and doing his best not to jump on her. Joe introduced himself and they welcomed him in. He had briefly been inside of Marian’s home when they arrested Owen the year before, but this was his first time to take in the foyer and the lovely antiques.
“We were in the kitchen, if you don’t mind being casual,” Jon informed them. “We’re trying to cut back on heating all of the rooms.” He led them through the dining room and into the kitchen.
Sylvia noticed that the door to the living room was closed and the dining room was a bit chillier as they walked through. When they stepped into the kitchen, it was filled with warmth and light. Marian ran over to hug Sylvia. Owen unfolded himself from the floor in front of the fire. It reminded her of the first time she met him where he had unfolded himself from the car.
“You poor, poor thing,” Marian crooned to Sylvia and she came over to give her a hug.
Owen and Joe shook hands and Owen gave Sylvia a long hug when Marian released her. Joe filled everyone in on the story. Jon interrupted and asked Joe if he would like a drink.
“No, sir. Thank you.” Joe said, “I’m still on duty.”
“Coffee?” Marian suggested.
Joe sighed in relief, “That would be terrific. Thank you.”
Marian busied herself boiling water. Jon asked Sylvia if she wanted a glass of wine and she nodded.
“I think hot milk would be better,” Marian said from the counter.
“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble sleeping,” Sylvia said drily “I’m exhausted.”
Percy was leaning heavily against Sylvia and put his head on her knee. He looked up at her with mournful eyes. She kissed him on top of the pouf on his head.
When Joe had finished the story, Sylvia remembered that Joe had called her on Saturday evening. She looked at him quizzically.
“Didn’t you call me on Saturday evening?” she asked, “Something about Tony?”
“Yeah,” Joe said, “What was going on with you? I could barely hear you!”
“We were at Gwen’s bachelorette party,” Sylvia said, “and we painted the town red…at least for a while.” Sylvia blushed.
“Oh,” Joe said, “You weren’t driving and drinking, were you?” he asked accusingly in his cop tone.
“No, sir!” Sylvia said, laughing, “Claire ordered a limo to take us from place to place.”
“Claire’s a good friend,” he said. “But, I called to see if you knew where Tony went. I haven’t been able to get hold of him.”
“He said he was going to his place in Florida,” Sylvia said. “A condo in Palm Beach, he said,” Sylvia told him.
“Thanks,” Joe said, “Now back to this issue at hand. What are you doing tomorrow?” Joe asked. “You’ll need to get your house back together.”
“I guess I’ll need to take the day off,” Sylvia pondered, “I have already called and talked very briefly to Mr. Carter and Carol. It’s not something I’m looking forward to doing.”
“I can take tomorrow off and help you,” Owen said, “I have some time.”
Marian interrupted, “Jon and I can help you as well.”
Joe nodded approvingly.
“What about tomorrow night?” Joe asked. “Are you going to stay here or at your house?”
“At my house, I think,” Sylvia told him. She couldn’t think of being chased from her home by a psycho. As much as she like being at Marian’s she wanted to be at home—except it was too scary tonight.
“Are you all right with that?” he probed.
Sylvia was thoughtful. “No, not really,” she admitted.
“I can stay with you,” Owen offered eagerly.
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. Joe and Marian raised an eyebrow. Jon had a poker face.
“I’ll, I’ll stay in the guest room, of course,” Owen said sheepishly.
“Okay,” Sylvia said very slowly. “I would feel better if someone is there with me.”
“Good,” said Joe, “that’s settled. I need to work some extra shifts, so I’ll feel better if someone is with you.”
“Do you feel this is somehow involved in the murder of Joyce Capaselli?” Jon asked.
“I couldn’t possibly say, but I do think it is a possibility,” Joe said.
“Hmm,” Jon said.
Sylvia was too tired to ask any questions.
“I think I want to go to bed,” she said, swaying on her feet.
“Let me help you, Sylvia,” Marian said. “Good night,” she said to Joe.
“Yes, good night, Joe,” Sylvia said, remembering her manners, “thank you.” She gave him a hug.
Winter sunlight streamed in the windows like pale lemonade when Sylvia awoke to a soft knock. Marian entered the room with a steaming cup of café au lait. She placed it on the bedside table and sat near Sylvia in a small, upholstered antique chair. Sylvia sat up in bed, took the cup of café au lait and took a sip of the foam at the top. She took a rubbed and then did so again, when she saw the time. It was after ten in the morning!
“Oh, my!” she said, “Look at the time!”
Marian chuckled, “My dear, you were dead asleep. You didn’t hear Percy whine at the door to go out nor Owen opening the door to take him outside.”
Sylvia grimaced, “I think I passed out from exhaustion and shock.”
“No surprise,” Marian said, “considering everything that happened this weekend.”
“Hmm,” Sylvia said, sipping her coffee.
“Where is Percy?” she asked Marian.
“At your house,” Marian responded.
When Sylvia looked surprised and questioning, Marian explained she sent Jon and Owen over to begin to put Sylvia’s house to rights.
“I thought they should open some windows to get some of the bad humors released,” she told Sylvia in all seriousness, “and Percy was quite happy to go home. I’m so glad you are permitting Owen to stay a day or two. Joyce’s murder and now this are quite disconcerting. How are you feeling about all of this?”
“I’m not sure,” Sylvia confessed. “I’m a little scared, I think. I wonder if the two incidents are related.”
“I have no idea. Perhaps you should talk to your friend, Joe,” she suggested.
Sylvia nodded.
“I’m going to head downstairs and prepare you a bit of brunch,” Marian told her.
Sylvia smiled at Marian, “I am hungry,” she said.
Marian left and Sylvia stretched in bed and continued to sip at the coffee for a minute. The sunlight was beginning to fall across the bed and the sunshine felt like liquid warmth. Sylvia felt like a cat, but she could not languish as Marian was preparing her brunch. Sylvia dragged herself from bed to dress and head downstairs.
Marian was waiting with fresh coffee and more of the baked oatmeal that she had prepared during the storm. Today she had topped it with walnuts, dried fruit and vanilla yogurt. After eating Sylvia drove Marian to her home.
The air was beginning to smell like spring – wet, wormy and the smell of new, green grass filled the air. Sylvia filled her lungs with it when she stepped from the car. Th
e water on the bay sparkled as if it was topped with an icing of a million diamonds. It rippled in the soft spring breeze and the wavelets blinked brilliantly at her. It was good to be home.
Sylvia was surprised when she walked in the kitchen door. The soft breeze blew through the open windows. Owen had her favorite Celtic music playing loudly, filling the rooms. Sylvia was amazed what Owen and Jon had accomplished. Cushions were back on the chairs and things were much tidier. Fresh flowers in small vases dotted the rooms. Everything felt cleansed.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Sylvia cried and gave Owen and Jon huge bear hugs. Emotions and tears threatened to spill over, but Sylvia gave a huge, relieved sigh and held out her arms. “Everything seems almost normal again. Thank you so much.”
Jon, Marian and Owen beamed. Owen and Jon went to close the windows and Marian suggested they all have some lunch.
“Oh, good,” Sylvia said, “I can take you all out.”
Jon just laughed and put an arm around Sylvia’s shoulders. “Now Sylvia,” he interrupted her, “Can you even imagine that my lovely wife would let you consider taking us out?”
Marian actually blushed, but she said to Jon, “Did you bring everything?”
He nodded. Marian smiled at him.
She turned to Sylvia, “One of your favorites,” Marian told Sylvia, “that carrot soup with curry. It’s in your refrigerator.”
“Which is painfully empty!” Owen interrupted.
Sylvia made a face at him. “You know how I love going to the grocery store,” she said to him.
He nodded with an amused smile before he said, “If you want me to stay here, I’ll need more than light yogurt and lean cuisines.”
“Okay, okay,” Sylvia relented, “Groceries after lunch.”
The afternoon passed quickly. Jon and Marian went home after lunch. Owen and Sylvia went to the grocery store. It was not too crowded and Sylvia had to admit it wasn’t too bad. Owen promised her she would never live it down. It felt almost like old times with Owen as they traversed the aisles and picked up items for the week.
“Do you have charcoal?” Owen asked Sylvia.
“Yes, I think so,” Sylvia answered.
“Do you want to grill tonight?” he asked. He had picked up a package of lean pork steaks. “These are awesome when they are grilled!” he said with enthusiasm.
“Okay,” Sylvia shrugged.
Owen went on, “Marian makes these amazing lemon, mustard potatoes too.”
“Are you offering to make me dinner?” Sylvia asked Owen coyly.
Owen hesitated at first, “Sure,” he said, “as long as you make the salad.”
“Deal,” she told him, “and I’ll do dessert too,” she told him as she reached into the freezer and pulled out ice cream.
They had an enjoyable dinner. Sylvia’s edge with Owen was wearing down more and more with each glass of wine. She nervously finished the first glass as they were preparing dinner. She slowed down as she drank the next glass with her meal, and now was feeling more than comfortable with the full glass Owen had poured for her when they settled in the living room. Owen sat on the couch with his stocking feet on the coffee table. He was reading through his students’ papers on his laptop. He stared at the screen intently.
Sylvia didn’t trust herself, sitting next to Owen. The wine had broken down barriers that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be gone. Her emotions were high and tears were on the brink. Her fear was that she would throw herself at Owen to be held as she sobbed. And if he touched her in any way, she wasn’t sure she could control what might happen next.
Sylvia sat curled up in the wingback chair. She sipped her wine and stared out into the night, mulling over the amazing variety of events that had occurred in the last few days. The bay was a puddle of mirrored blackness from the sky. Percy was curled up at her feet. She was still exhausted. Percy whined to go outside.
When Sylvia stood up, she swayed. “Whoa,” she said, putting out a steadying hand on the chair. The wine had hit her when she stood up. She was most definitely more than just tipsy. Owen raised his head from his reading. He saw Sylvia trying to navigate.
“Syl, wait,” he told her. “I’ll take Percy outside. You go on up to bed.”
“Thanks,” she said, slurring her words a little.
Owen chuckled, “Let me help you up the stairs.”
“I’m okay,” Sylvia said with a hiccup.
“No, you’re not,” he told her. “Let me help,” he said insistently.
Sylvia relented. Owen kept a steadying hand on her elbow as she climbed the stairs.
“Thanks,” she said again at the door to her room.
“Good night, Sylvia,” he said swiftly and kissed her gently on the top of her head.
Tears pricked her eyes, but when she turned he was already down the stairs.
Sylvia crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep. At one point, Sylvia heard something. It was loud in her dream and growing louder. Percy whined and pressed his nose into Sylvia. He gave a short, sharp bark, the one he used when something was wrong. Her eyes flew open and her ears seemed to wake up too. A cacophony of sound filled her ears. It was an alarm that was clanging in the night. It took her a moment to realize what it was and she sat up abruptly. Owen pounded down the hallway to her room.
“What is that?” he asked rubbing his eyes. “What is that noise?”
Percy gave another short, sharp bark as if he asked the same question. Sylvia had climbed out of bed and put on her robe and slippers.
“I think it’s Kim’s alarm,” she told Owen. “I hope she isn’t there,” she added worriedly. “She should be in Wilmington.”
They both hurried down the stairs and Percy clattered behind them. Sylvia opened the kitchen door only to see police cars approaching Kim’s house swiftly and silently like bats. Owen had clipped on Percy’s leash and they walked to the edge of the driveway. Police and flashlights were making arcs of light all around Kim’s yard and the adjoining ones. One of the men came near them.
“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Owen asked.
“Possible break in,” the cop told them.
“Oh, no!” Sylvia cried out, “Is Kim okay?”
“No one was on the premises,” he told her.
“Good,” Sylvia said with relief.
The policeman continued to look carefully. His flashlight continued to make arcs on the ground. It dawned on Sylvia that he was looking for footprints. The snow had melted and she did not see grass matted down.
“Excuse me,” Sylvia called to the policeman again.
He had continued his search and basically ignored them. He looked up with a baleful glare.
“Is Joe, uhm, Detective Collins with you?” she asked.
It was as if a light went on and suddenly the policeman recognized her. “No, ma’am,” he told her, “but, he’s on the way.”
“Could you ask him to stop over?” Sylvia asked, “if he can?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the policeman told her.
The cold and damp were seeping through her robe. Sylvia shivered.
“C’mon,” Owen said, “We can’t do anything here. Let’s go home and get warm.”
Sylvia nodded and went back into the house. The peacefulness of the still night at Bayside felt shattered again. Sylvia’s comfort level, which had returned earlier, was now broken again.
Owen and Sylvia went back to the living room. She stretched out on the couch so that Owen could not sit down. He gave a small sigh and sat in the wingback chair that Sylvia had occupied earlier that evening. They did not talk and Sylvia felt herself nodding off. Loud knocking on the kitchen door woke her. She must have fallen asleep as the soft blanket throw was tucked in around her. Owen. Now he was up and answering the door. Joe came in and Sylvia sat up. He sat down wearily at the end of the couch.
“How are you?” Sylvia asked him.
“Frankly, I’m exhausted,” Joe told them.
“Coffee?” Owen offered.
“Thanks, but no,” Joe said. “I’m floating with the stuff.” Joe rubbed his eyes.
“What’s going on?” Sylvia asked worriedly.
“To be honest, I’m not so sure now,” he told them. “Another break in. More mayhem. Fortunately the owners were not at home.”
A frown furrowed Owen’s forehead. “That’s it?” he commented.
Joe cleared his throat. “Not sure,” he said shortly. “My brain is swimming with a few scenarios.”
“Which you’re not going to divulge?” Owen pressed.
Joe shook his head, “no,” he said, “I can’t,” he paused, “yet.”
Owen nodded and Sylvia sat back in a slump.
“Sorry,” Joe said.
There were a few heartbeats of silence before Joe stood up, “Look,” he said, “you lucky people actually get to go back to bed,” he said enviously, “I need to get back to work.”
When he turned, Sylvia asked, “Did they find any fingerprints there?” she asked.
Joe shook his head with a frown. “No, no fingerprints,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “It was the same at your house. There are very few clues.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Owen said, “Thanks for coming over, Joe.”
“Yes, thank you,” Sylvia said with a yawn.
Owen and Joe reached the door.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Joe said in a sotto voce voice to Owen glancing back to Sylvia, “Something isn’t jiving here,” he told him.
Owen nodded. Sylvia had turned out the lights in the living room. She stepped into the kitchen with Percy on her heels.
“Good night,” Joe said again and he went out the door and down the steps.
Sylvia yawned again. “Okay,” she said, “Back to bed, Percy. I hope we can sleep.”
“No worries about that,” Owen said, yawning broadly. “See you in a couple of hours.”
Chapter 33
“We can not solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them.”
- Albert Einstein
Sylvia and Owen carpooled the next day. There was little conversation and a lot of yawning. They stopped to gas up the car at a convenience store. Sylvia went in to get large coffees and breakfast sandwiches. As they drove, Sylvia only nibbled at the sandwich and sipped more of the coffee.
The Leafing: the 2nd book in The Green Man series Page 30
