LeGarde Mysteries Box Set, page 15
part #1 of LeGarde Mystery Series
“About a fifteen-minute climb.” I flashed a smile in her direction.
She smiled back with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
My insides whirled in spirals and a fluttery warm feeling trickled down to my toes. Whether I’d imagined it or not, we’d connected for a brief moment, exchanging smiles on that cold hill. My spirits soared.
The rising sun scattered pink and blue clouds in the eastern sky. Streaks of orange and purple slashed through the red sphere when it slowly crept above the horizon. Our goal had been to make the top of the hill by sunrise. We crested the ridge and stood quietly for several moments, inhaling the beauty of the landscape.
A perky male cardinal chirruped from a branch, heavily bowed in a snow-covered spruce high above our heads. “Weeka, weeka,” he twittered.
Johnny began to chatter, excited about the prospect of his first adventure in sledding. The sun continued to rise, as it’s been known to do, transforming from a reddish-gold orb to a blinding white ball of fire in a cobalt blue sky.
Siegfried rode with Johnny and began the gentle descent to the bottom of the hill. The dips and bumps formed by the glacier thousands of years before were enough to sufficiently slow their progress from breakneck speed to a controlled, enjoyable ride. Camille settled in the other toboggan with Sadie in front of her, straddled by her legs. She looked at me expectantly. “Aren’t you coming, Gus?”
I practically ran to sit behind her, tucking my legs around hers and anchoring them on the boards of the toboggan. Holding the rope, I pushed off with my hands and we began the thrilling ride down the snowy slope. I rested my head against Camille’s soft blue wool hat and felt her hair blowing against my cheeks as we rushed down the hill. The spray of the snow stung my cheeks. We landed safely at the bottom of the hill twenty yards from Siegfried and Johnny.
The smell of wet wool was almost intoxicating. We trudged up the hill and sped down again, changing partners frequently and laughing as the path became well-packed and the sleds flew more quickly. Johnny was unafraid, and we plunged down the slope again and again.
The air warmed and the sun grew stronger. Dazzling in its early morning splendor, light sparkled through crystalline frosty structures trimming the trees overhead. Sadie seemed to bond with Siegfried and accepted rides with him several times.
When we’d all had our fill, I opened the bag and poured hot chocolate into the cups. Siegfried sat sideways on his toboggan between the two children, enchanting them with a story about a snow prince. I marveled at his ways with the children. He spoke with quiet tones and raised his eyebrows slightly when he got to the exciting parts of the tale.
Camille walked over and spoke to him, then motioned for me to follow her to the creek bubbling at the edge of the field a hundred yards away. I put down my cup and caught up with her in three long strides.
“Care to join me for a walk?” she asked, heading toward the creek.
“Sure.” I walked beside her, happy to be in her company.
We tromped through the deep fluffy snow, making twin parallel paths. After a few minutes of hiking, we found our way to the edge of the creek and sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk. The water bubbled through the snow banks, slid over submerged stones, and created a pleasant murmur in the background. If the cold continued, it would freeze over in a matter of days.
Camille stretched her legs out in front of her. “I know I’ve acted a little strange over the last few weeks, Gus.”
I started to disagree, but she held one gloved finger to her lips.
“Just let me get it out. I don’t know if I’ll ever get up the courage again, okay?”
I shifted around to face her. “Okay.”
She expelled a long, warm breath into the chilled air, and began to speak. Her eyes focused on the bubbling stream. “I was with Greg for ten years. We were married right after college. He swept me off my feet and we settled in Rochester where his new corporation had their headquarters. I found a job in the psych ward of the old Genesee Hospital, working with troubled teens. In the beginning, everything was very exciting. We worked hard and saved enough for a down payment on a small house. It all seemed so perfect, until his company laid off half of their workforce six months after he started with them. Greg was a software engineer, so he didn’t have too much trouble finding a new job. But then it happened again. It was a tough time in the industry, anyway, but each time he’d just about get settled, they’d let him go. After the fourth time, Greg began to drink.”
My eyes riveted on hers. She looked away and her face crumpled. I reached over to rest my hand on hers. She composed herself slowly, and then turned back to me.
“At first it was mostly verbal abuse. He’d say something horrible. I’d become angry. We got into terrible arguments. He was furious his life hadn’t turned out like he expected. I was disappointed he’d turned to alcohol for comfort, instead of to me. It just got worse from that point.” Pain etched her face.
“Did he hit you, Camille?”
She looked at me, then turned away. “Yes—that’s why I got so shook up in the emergency room, Gus. I stood the abuse for four long years. I was in and out of the E.R., and every time I go near there it brings back the memories.” She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and smiled weakly. “I kept thinking I could reach him. We tried rehab several times. He’d start out with great resolve, and then some little thing would set him off again. Of course, he couldn’t find work after that. We had to depend on my income, sell the house, and go down to a dingy little apartment. That just about killed him. He was angry at life, angry at me for being the breadwinner, jealous each time I went to work or came home a second late.”
She paused for a moment and her voice trailed off.
“I’m so sorry, Camille. I don’t know what to say. No one deserves to be treated like that.”
She looked at me with a sad smile. “Thanks, Gus. The last time he attacked me, the police convinced me to press charges. He was jailed within six months and is still there. Of course, I divorced him shortly thereafter.”
I gazed into her eyes; she lifted them to mine, facing the sun. Wisps of cold vapors puffed from her lips. Her creamy complexion had taken on a rosy glow from the cold. I felt drawn in by her cinnamon eyes. In rapt fascination, I noticed they weren’t pure brown. A narrow flare of pale green circled the iris. As I looked closer, I noticed a remarkable, star-shaped spot of gold in her right eye. I continued to stare, captivated.
“Your eyes…” I whispered.
She cast them down in embarrassment and lowered her head. I gently lifted her chin. “They’re dazzling.”
She looked worried. “Can you see the scar?”
I shook my head. “What scar?”
She pointed to a spot above her left eye. There was a thin, faint white ridge under her left eyebrow. It extended an inch, left to right. I removed my glove and ran my index finger lightly over the proud tissue. She didn’t pull away.
“How did you get it?”
She hesitated, winced, and answered softly, “Greg. That one put me in the hospital for a week.”
I longed to kiss the scar and hold her to me, enfolding her in arms that wouldn’t hurt her. Instead, I kissed my fingertips and briefly, gently touched them to the scar.
Her eyes searched mine. I sensed an infinitesimal shift in her mood. She relaxed slightly. The confession of her past was complete.
A chickadee landed beneath a red-berried bush, several yards from our feet. We watched him for a few moments together in silence.
“If I had known you then, Camille, I would’ve knocked him to the moon.”
A smile spread slowly across her face and her already pink cheeks grew a shade deeper. “Thanks, Gus.”
She laid her hand on my arm and left it there for a long time. I sat still beside her, enjoying the quiet company until we rose and rejoined Siegfried, Johnny, and Sadie at the hill.
We returned home after another hour of sledding. Although we sweated beneath the layers of clothes, our noses and cheeks were freezing. We all stomped into the barn to deposit the sleds. Sadie slid her hand into Camille’s and watched Johnny chase one of the barn cats down the aisle.
“Thanks so much for sharing your toboggans with us, Siegfried. I think Sadie loved it,” Camille said. She brushed a stray curl from her flushed face and looked down at the little girl who tugged on her hand. “What is it, honey? What do you want?”
Sadie looked pleadingly at Camille, and then at me. Siegfried crouched down before her and looked into her eyes. “We talked about the puppies. Maybe she wants to see them, Ja?”
Sadie’s head nodded vigorously. We followed Sig down to the far end of the barn. The whimpering and barking of the puppies grew louder as we neared them.
Siegfried lifted a fuzzy yellow pup. Sadie sat on a bale of hay, and Siegfried placed the puppy in her arms. Her face lit up in ecstasy. I brought out another pup for Johnny, who lay on the straw on the floor of the stall as the black and white pup licked his face and kissed him, sending him into peels of laughter.
Camille leaned over and patted Sheba’s head. The dog lapped her hand. “What a good momma dog you are.”
After a moment, Camille stepped into the whelping pen and sat down on the blanket. The puppies tumbled around her in a soft, whimpering pile and clambered onto her lap. “Oh Siegfried, they’re magnificent.”
Siegfried grinned, bursting with pride. “Ja. They are good dogs.”
After twenty minutes, Camille accepted my offer for lunch. We walked up to the house and hung our wet clothing on the rack by the woodstove. I stacked the boots on a rubber mat beside the stove, hoping they’d dry by the time Camille and Sadie went home.
The aroma of fresh baked bread wafted out from the kitchen. I walked over to the bread machine and lifted the cover, pleased to see a rounded, tall loaf of bread. It didn’t always come out that way.
I sliced the steaming hot loaf with an electric knife, and laid twelve pieces on a plate. Siegfried got the butter from the refrigerator, and Camille ladled the thick pea soup into the white soup bowls. Freddie arrived home just in time to join us for lunch and we chatted happily in our state of post-exercise euphoria.
We each drank several glasses of cold milk with the meal. For dessert, we munched on crisp Mutsu apples from the cold-cellar. Afterwards, we played games in the great room and watched The Little Mermaid. When the movie was over, Siegfried urged me to play the piano. It was the first time I’d played for Camille, and I chose my favorite Chopin waltzes. Johnny dragged out the tinker toys and asked Sadie to help him build another robot.
The afternoon flew by. At six o’clock, I escorted Camille and Sadie out to the Volkswagen. The air temperature had plummeted. Camille buckled Sadie into the back seat, and then closed the car door gently. The sky had darkened to an indigo blue, and shimmering white stars peppered the heavens above us. She was about to open the driver’s side door, but I touched her arm. She looked at me with an inquisitive expression.
I wrapped my arms around her and drew her toward me, hugging her briefly.
To my surprise, she lifted her lips to mine and deposited a small kiss on the side of my mouth. “Thanks for a marvelous day, Gus.”
Before I could respond, she’d ducked into the front seat and closed the door. I stood and watched for a long time after the VW bumped down the rutted drive.
Had the kiss been a friendly, thanks-for-the-fun-day kind of kiss, or the beginning of something more intimate? Unsure, I finally turned around. With my hands in my pockets, I walked back up to the house, tasting her cherry ChapStick on my lips.
Chapter 38
The second phone call came a week later. The FBI had been in our home with their bewildering assortment of wiretapping and recording devices for seven long days. Mrs. Pierce had tended to them in her motherly manner, furnishing the men with sandwiches and coffee as needed. I'd tired of the routine and longed for my life to return to normal. Although I felt a sense of submerged terror based on Baxter’s threats, I also seethed with anger. The monster had turned my life into a circus and my family into prisoners in our own home.
The plan was for me to “reveal” the location of Sadie to Baxter. A house in Rochester had been identified as the point of contact. If the wiretapping effort were unsuccessful in identifying Baxter’s hideout, then the FBI would catch Baxter in the act when he tried to reclaim Sadie.
When the phone rang, the men in the room raced to their positions and signaled for me to answer. All week we'd received innocuous calls, and I was beginning to tire of the routine. Out of habit, I repeated the address of the city house under my breath. Forty-eight fifty Clinton Street.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakable. I waved my hand in the air rapidly, alerting the men to the call.
“You know who this is?”
“Yes.”
“No messing around, LeGarde. Where's my kid?”
“I've got the address. Hang on a minute while I grab my notes from the other room.”
I'd been instructed to stall Baxter as long as possible to facilitate the tracing of his location. Although several of the fellows on the force were doubtful he'd buy the ruse due to his history on the force, I'd been encouraged to try it, regardless. Adam Knapp sat beside me, encouraging me with his eyes.
“No. Wait!” Baxter yelled.
“It's in the kitchen,” I said. “It'll just take a second.”
“I'll give you ten seconds, LeGarde. If you don't come—”
An electronic whine came from Adam Knapp's walkie-talkie. Adam fumbled with the controls, but everyone—including Baxter—heard the strident announcement asking for all available officers to report to a robbery in progress at a gas station in Lakeville.
Baxter hissed in my ear, his voice seething with anger. “You’re dead, LeGarde.”
The phone went dead.
Adam Knapp turned pale. Joe Russell and every agent in the room glowered at him.
“Did you get it?” I asked. “Could you trace him?”
The agent on the laptop looked first at his supervisor, then at me.
“I couldn't pinpoint the exact location, but it looks like he's somewhere near Buffalo.”
Two hours away. He’s coming for us.
Chapter 39
Monday morning dawned cold and gray. Over the past few days, our home had become a madhouse of policemen and agents. There were discussions of moving Sadie elsewhere, and of moving my family out of our home in fear of Baxter’s retribution. In the end, they decided to increase the FBI agents hidden around Camille's house as well as ours, and to step up the manhunt between Buffalo and East Goodland.
The agents in charge seemed on edge, anticipating an imminent move by Baxter. I'd been encouraged to stay away from the university for a few days, because protecting me would be difficult on campus. We'd cancelled classes, and Maddy moved in with Camille and Sadie until Baxter was caught. If Baxter was caught.
I drove to Camille’s house with Agent Silverman on my tail, my nerves on edge. I pictured Baxter raging with anger, furious at me for trying to trap him. With his background in the service and the police force, he had a great number of skills at his disposal. His ability to slip in and out of state lines, hide undetected in our very woods for weeks, and evade capture was extraordinary. Would he slip past the agents and show up on my porch again, or break into my home and start torturing my family until I told him where Sadie was? A chill rippled down my spine, recalling his smoldering gray eyes.
Since I faced the long days ahead with no classes to teach, I'd offered to drive Sadie to the ARC for Camille. Although we had discussed keeping her home, and had actually been pressured by the agents to do so, Camille fought like mad against their advice and insisted Sadie continue her therapy. She claimed it had done wonders for Sadie's development, although the child hadn't yet regained her speech. A routine was important, she insisted, for the sake of stability. Of course the feds had assigned a man to follow us to the school. He kept an eye on Sadie the whole time.
I felt safer knowing Camille and Maddy were well-protected at home, and not exposed to the public eye. If Baxter linked Sadie to Camille, even briefly, it opened the possibility that he might discover her location. After all, he already knew where I lived.
I picked up Sadie and hurried her into the Volvo. The agents at Camille’s place watched from two separate vantage points, and Agent Silverman’s car idled in the street, waiting for me to back out. The temperature hovered in the low twenties, and the wind blew hard from the west. I slid into the driver's seat, buckled up, and smiled at my little charge. “Wave goodbye to Camille, honey. See? She's looking out the window.”
Sadie sat up straighter in her seat and raised her hand, wiggling her fingertips. A quick little smile crossed her face, followed by an expression of doleful concern. Agent Silverman waved from his dark sedan, ready to follow per usual.
I backed out of the driveway and started up the icy road, wondering how much the child had heard. Did she know she was in danger? Was she worried about Camille? If her little brain was functioning as well as I expected, then she probably understood a great deal more than we thought. The fear of her father's return probably terrified her.
“Are you worried about Camille, Sadie?” I spoke gently, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
She met my gaze with her big brown eyes and nodded.
My heart melted. I stretched one hand over the seatback and patted her mittened hands. The poor little waif had been moved from location to location with her mother, trying to escape the evil of Baxter. That, in itself, would have been deeply traumatizing. But then, she’d witnessed the horrific murder of her mother. It was possible she feared the same thing would happen to Camille, who had become like a mother to her.
“It'll be okay, honey. Camille will be just fine. Don't you worry now, little one. Okay?”
