LeGarde Mysteries Box Set, page 14
part #1 of LeGarde Mystery Series
We’d spent many evenings together, encouraging Sadie to speak. Camille had remained warm and friendly, but maintained a distance that made me to realize she didn’t feel that way about me, and probably never would. I found myself tormented and lonely, pining away for the love I’d shared with Elsbeth and simultaneously mooning over my affection for Camille.
As much as I told myself to forget about a relationship with her, I fell for her more and more deeply each time our paths crossed, and the emotions coursing through my body slowly transformed from infatuation to deep affection. My soul soared when she was near. I found it difficult to get through an hour without thinking of her.
I was completely besotted.
The veiled expression that crept across her face continued to reappear when I casually asked about her past or allowed even a whisper of my passionate feelings to show. I felt her retreat into the shadows, and quickly learned to internalize the love, forcing myself to act in a friendly fashion without threatening the poor woman with my adoration. The last thing I wanted to do was to drive her away in fear of the crazy professor who obsessively doted on her.
Although Sadie had progressed, she hadn’t regained her speech. Camille had been taking her to the Livingston County ARC in the village of Conaroga, where they worked with her for four hours a day. The organization featured a well-rounded staff of speech, play, and trauma therapists, each who had their allotted time with Sadie while the police continued to search for her aunt. She began to calm down and relate better to her teachers and classmates, but hadn’t responded to the speech therapy, much to their collective chagrin.
Maddy finished her hallway conversation and clicked back over to her desk. She flipped through my appointment book, licking her forefinger as she turned each page.
“Professor, you haven’t forgotten about the WRLN fundraiser Friday night, have you?”
I looked up with a blank expression on my face.
She tut-tutted and tapped her pencil on the edge of her desk. “You did forget! Shame on you. Who are you going to get to go with you at this late notice, Gus? It’s only two days away.”
The decision of who to bring to these functions was becoming increasingly tiresome. Freddie and Maddy had both pinch-hit for me a few times, but I’d begun to feel uncomfortable about asking either of them again. I fantasized briefly about asking Camille, but decided against it.
Maddy read my mind. “Why don’t you ask Camille? She hasn’t been on a date in five long years. I think it would do her a world of good.”
I hadn’t revealed my feelings to Maddy, but I suspected she knew how I felt about her daughter. She seemed to know all when it came to love.
“I really don’t think she’d want to go to such a stuffy old function with me, do you?”
“Well, you won’t know ‘til you ask. For heaven’s sakes, what have you got to lose?” She sat at her desk with her arms folded across her ample bosom. An expression that bordered on a challenge came over her face.
“I suppose you’re right, Maddy,” I said reluctantly.
She nodded in satisfaction, scribbled Camille’s phone number on a Post-It note, and waltzed over to my desk. “Here. Call her now, I know she’s home with Sadie this afternoon.”
My palms began to sweat. I fingered the yellow square of paper in my hands, but I didn’t want Maddy to know I’d memorized Camille’s phone number the first time I’d returned one of her calls about Sadie.
“Go on, Gus! Just do it!” Maddy practically shouted. She looked at me with the devilish look of the matchmaker she was born to be. I sighed and picked up the receiver, dialing the number with trembling fingers.
Camille answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
I forced myself to speak calmly, although I feared the words would emerge in a pre-adolescent squeak. “Hi, Camille. It’s Gus.”
“Oh, hi, Gus. I was just going to call you.”
I smiled into the phone. “No kidding? Must be telepathy.”
“Guess so,” she chuckled.
I laughed with her, enjoying the repartee and glad for the excuse to procrastinate. “So. What were you going to call me about?”
“Oh! It wasn’t much. I was just thinking Sadie might want to take a look at Sheba’s puppies. She loves animals, you know. It could be good therapy for her.”
Maddy frowned because I hadn’t brought up Friday night. She lifted one hand in the air and moved her fingers in my direction as if she was shooing away a bug, urging me to get down to the task at hand. I turned away from her and kept talking.
“Good therapy, or just plain fun, Camille. I think it’s a marvelous idea. Why don’t you bring her over on Saturday morning? Siegfried and I will both be home. He’d love to show off the pups.”
“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
Her musical-mellow voice sent a thrill through me. An unsettling combination of elation and trepidation coursed through my body. Yet, the sound of her voice moved me to heights of bliss that nearly doused the tremors of nerves flitting from my gut, across my ribs, and up to my throat.
She waited a second for me to respond. I didn’t.
“So why were you calling, Gus? Sorry, I kind of monopolized the conversation.”
I stuttered a little. “Don’t be silly, Camille. I just wanted to ask you—”
I hesitated.
“Ask me what?”
I swallowed hard and pressed on. “There’s this WRLN fundraiser Friday night. I was just wondering if you—if you don’t have any plans—I mean, would you like to go with me?”
The ensuing silence felt like a knife in my heart. She sat mute on the other end of the line. The stillness drew out into a long, painful pause. I agonized through the moment, feeling as if my heart would explode.
Finally she spoke. “Gus? I think it’s time I shared some stuff with you. I don’t date. I’m sorry. It’s not you, Gus. You’re a dear, sweet man.”
My heart thudded to the bottom of my feet.
“Something happened to me a while back that feels as fresh as yesterday. I’m working on it, Gus, but it still keeps me up at night and I don’t feel comfortable getting close to men. I haven’t starting dating yet, and I’m sorry, I really don’t know when I will. Or if I will. Ever. Please don’t take it personally. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
I mumbled into the phone, feeling shattered. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“I don’t think you do, Gus. Maybe Saturday when we get together—”
I didn’t respond.
“Gus? Do you still want me to come over with Sadie on Saturday?”
Maddy stared at me.
I turned my face away from her and pulled myself together. “I’m sorry, Camille. Of course. We’d love to have you. They’re predicting a foot of snow tomorrow night. Winter’s supposed to make a comeback, can you believe it? Maybe we can go sledding with Sadie. It could be lots of fun.”
“Okay, Gus. We’ll look forward to it. And I’m really sorry about Friday night, I’m just—”
I summoned up some gallantry and made an effort to smooth things over. “Don’t say another word. Your friendship means more to me than anything. We can still be friends, can’t we?”
Her voice caught in her throat as if I had completely surprised her. “Friends? Why…yes. Of course. Friends it is, Gus.”
We settled on seven o’clock Saturday morning and hung up.
Maddy looked at me expectantly, one penciled-in eyebrow arched higher than the other. “Well?” she asked nervously. “What did she say?”
I swallowed my pride and looked into her worried eyes, hating the fact that Camille had called me a dear, sweet man. She thinks of me as a damned uncle, I thought. “No dice, Maddy. She’s not interested.”
Her face fell and she looked almost as disappointed as I was. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. But don’t take it personally. Keep trying. I really think you, of all people, have a chance with her. I’ve seen signs, Gus. Signs of life that haven’t been present since—” Her eyes clouded over and her mouth tightened. “Well, I suppose she’ll have to tell you in her own time.”
I stared at her. My feelings of deep disappointment were suddenly laced with intense curiosity.
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll go solo Friday. I’d skip it altogether, but I’m doing a short lecture on the Brahms violin concerto. Matter of fact, I’d better get busy on it. I haven’t even started my notes yet.”
I turned to my computer and pretended to look through files of notes. Instead, I wondered what in the world happened to Camille to upset her so—and what or who was responsible for the trauma.
Chapter 35
The phone call came in the middle of the night. I'd set the alarm for 5:00 and when the insistent ringing sounded beside my pillow, I pummeled the snooze button, trying to make it go away. When that didn’t work, I fumbled for the phone.
“Hello?” I croaked. The alarm clock's blue display read 4:12 A.M. No one answered. I sighed loudly. Max raised his head from the foot of the bed.
“Hello?” I repeated.
Silence. I was about to hang up when a chilling scream pulsed through the receiver. I pulled the phone away from my ear. The scream was prolonged. It didn't sound human. After it trailed off, the sound of dripping liquid followed. I morbidly wondered if it was blood.
“LeGarde?” a gravelly voice beckoned.
I pressed the receiver to my ear. I recognized him immediately. “Baxter?” Anger built in my gut. “What in God's name—”
He interrupted. “God has nothing to do with it, LeGarde. Tell me where Sadie is or the next throat I slash will be your grandson's…”
Damn. He knew about Johnny.
“…or your daughter's. You can pick when the time comes. Your choice.”
Cold dread rippled in my stomach. I couldn't reveal Sadie's location, and tried to think of a way to stall the madman. “I don't know exactly where she is, Baxter. That's God's truth. But I can find out.”
There was silence for a moment, and then he spoke in a steely, quiet tone. “If you're lying, LeGarde, you'll pay. You'll pay in blood.”
I sat on the bed, my heart thumping wildly. “When I call you back, you'd better have the information.”
“When will y—”
He hung up.
Chapter 36
I'd been on the phone with Joe Russell for over a half hour when the alarm clock buzzed at 5:00 A.M. Officer Giorgio investigated the phone records by pulling departmental strings with the phone company, and had confirmed the call came from somewhere in Wisconsin. The FBI was notified and would take over the search of phone records in the morning, hoping to pinpoint Baxter’s location. A wiretap was planned for our phone and would be set up as soon as possible.
I relaxed slightly upon hearing the news, glad Baxter wasn't in the immediate vicinity.
In spite of the unsettling experience, I assured myself that the family was safe for the time being and turned my attention to the visit with Camille and Sadie. I indulged in a long shower and then stoked up the woodstove. Next, I dug out the thermos, rinsed it, and found a backpack that would serve as a carrier.
With plenty of time left, I plowed the driveway, then decided to make a soup. Today it would be Punjab Split Pea. I started to boil the peas in a pot of beef stock and bay leaves, then chopped onions, carrots, and potatoes. I sat at my comfortable kitchen table, with the old scarred chopping board, and felt lost. Since the demise of Elsbeth, bouts of overwhelming, choking loneliness routinely crept up on me in the most unpredictable moments.
Four long years had passed and the raw-edged sadness had lessened only slightly. I’d worked hard to hide it from my family and friends. They seemed to think I should be getting on with my life. I hesitated to admit the truth to anyone. As the onions reddened my eyes, I felt great gulping sensations of real tears trying to break through.
I miss Elsbeth now more than ever. I miss her warmth, her touch, and her fire. And it doesn’t look like anyone else will ever be interested in loving me, that’s for sure.
The house echoed with emptiness. Johnny had slept over with Siegfried in the carriage house when I attended the fundraiser the night before. They’d taken care of the puppies together and had brought several Disney movies to watch with their Friday night popcorn.
Mrs. Pierce had left early yesterday afternoon for her routine weekend visit with her sister in Syracuse, to avoid the storm. Freddie stayed overnight at the clinic with a critically ill Burmese cat. And Harold, my least favorite person on earth, was visiting one of his favorite resorts, the Turning Stone Casino. It was no wonder the man kept asking for loans. Money slipped through his fingers like water.
Max lay at my feet, sleeping. I reached down to stroke his funny gray ears and he sat up. He raised his muzzle in the air, trying to lick my face. At least he still loved me, I thought, allowing myself to wallow a bit more in the melancholy moment.
“Good dog,” I murmured. “What a nice boy.”
His gray and white wiry tail thumped happily against the red brick pattern of the linoleum floor and he jumped up to place both paws on my lap. I wrapped my arms around his solid canine neck and gave him a quick hug. With his quota for attention satisfied, he settled back down on the floor.
I stood up and pulled back the kitchen curtains, looking at the wintry landscape. The sky had lightened in pre-dawn softness, revealing over a foot of soft, fluffy snow that fell overnight. My breath formed a circle of fog that quickly turned to frost on the window. I scraped the frozen moisture with my fingernail, and wondered if it were possible to recover from the loss of a lifetime mate. The loneliness began to close in on me again, and I stood in the quiet house, sorely wanting for human contact.
I walked back to the table, picked up the chopping board and utensils, and carried them to the sink, thinking about Camille. I rinsed off the board, and gazed out again onto the broad expanse of fields and woods blanketed with fresh snow. A muted orange light reflected from the surface when the sky lightened. The beauty of the scene was cathartic.
Methodically, I dried the dishes and returned them to their appropriate cabinets and drawers, then walked over to stir the soup.
A spark of resolve fluttered into my throat, and an inner voice spoke to me. It was reminiscent of the steady counsel my father had given to me over the years. I’d loved Elsbeth more than life itself, but she was gone. For four long years I’d languished, wafting back and forth between anger and depression. I’d woken sad in the mornings, fallen to sleep at night longing for her touch, and had tried to fill the days with family activities that would drive away the sorrow.
As I thought more deeply about my situation, I realized it was possible God had seen fit to offer me a chance at salvation. I had been drowning, and he had offered me a life vest of sorts, a flotation device in the form of Camille’s friendship. Although it was questionable whether she would return my deep affection, perhaps in time she’d learn to trust me. A whisper of hope passed through me.
I turned the soup down and placed the cover on the stockpot, tilting it slightly to the side to allow the steam to escape. It was almost seven, and Camille would be arriving any minute.
The hot chocolate was ready. I re-rinsed the inside of the thermos with boiling water and then filled it to the top with cocoa. Next, I stuffed five disposable cups into the backpack with the thermos, zipped it up, and placed it on the chair by the door.
Mrs. Pierce’s bread machine stood with its cover open on the counter. Taking the recipe booklet down from the shelf of cookbooks, I flipped through it, and finally decided on a recipe for oatmeal bread. I began to follow the instructions carefully, and had just added the molasses and yeast when I heard Camille’s VW pulling up beside the barn. I pushed the start button, selected the French setting with dark crust, and hurried to the mudroom to get ready for sledding.
Chapter 37
I pulled on my winter gear and slung the backpack over my right shoulder. I’d decided not to tell Camille or Siegfried about the phone call until after our day on the hills. It would be useless to worry them.
Camille had unbuckled Sadie from the back seat and was helping her out of the car when I reached her side. The little girl was bundled so heavily she could barely raise her arms. Siegfried and Johnny both emerged from the barn similarly dressed for sledding. Siegfried pulled two long toboggans behind him.
“Morning, men. Ready for some fun in the snow?” Camille asked.
“You bet! Hi Sadie.” I bent down to her level and squeezed her mittens.
Only her eyes showed above the lavender scarf covering her nose and the hood pulled down over her forehead. Her eyes crinkled with smiles. I took her hand and walked her to Johnny, who danced impatiently beside Siegfried.
Johnny threw his arms around my neck when I crouched beside him. “Mornin’, Opa.”
I hugged him close, enjoying the feel of human contact. Straightening, I turned to both children. “Would you two like to ride on the toboggans while we climb the hill?”
Sadie and Johnny hopped over to the toboggans. I pulled Sadie’s sled and Siegfried grabbed Johnny’s rope. My ribs still ached where Baxter had so strategically placed his boot during the attack on the porch, causing a slight fracture on two of the bones. The thigh wound from the snowmobile, however, had healed nicely over the past few weeks, allowing me to regain my former strength as I trekked through the wintry landscape.
Johnny squealed with delight when Siegfried trotted a few steps. The big man exploded in laughter, then slowed and waited for us to catch up, matching our pace.
Camille walked between us. “So how far is this famous Thrill Hill, Siegfried?”
“Not so far.” He tossed his long blond ponytail behind him, leaning forward to pull the sled. We reached the bottom of the ridge and started to ascend the west side.
