by J. W. Lucas
I got back to my room, got undressed and was in bed by eleven-thirty. Sweet dreams had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning.
Chapter Nine
I woke up at seven-thirty and was showered and dressed in half an hour. I gathered up my laundry and filled the bag that I had brought. It was too early for my phone calls, so I went down to the lounge for a light breakfast, grabbing a newspaper in the lobby. After I ordered my food, I scanned through the paper until I came to the police news section.
The disturbance in the lounge two nights earlier was described as an intoxicated man arrested for a weapons violation. It listed his name as Mark Savage but didn’t mention that he was an Abbot Deputy. It went on to say that he was treated for a head injury and held for observation in the hospital. He was charged with disorderly conduct, assault, and the felony charge of possession of a firearm while intoxicated. It reported that his five-thousand-dollar bond was posted at the hospital by Freedom Bail Services, and he was released for a court appearance in two weeks.
I read the last sentence twice. It was the first time I had ever seen the bondsman’s business name listed in a newspaper report.
There were three other unrelated arrests in Abbot County that required bonds for release, and Freedom posted them as well. Odd I thought.
I finished breakfast and went back up to my room and called Bernie on her cell. I told her that I would be at the house around noon and I would be having a guest staying with me.
“Are you bringing a woman home for the weekend?”
“Yes, her name is Mandy.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ll run down to the store and pick up some groceries for you. Do you want me to pick up some meat for you?”
“Well, don’t go overboard, and thank you. We’ll be going back up to Vermont Sunday or Monday.”
“Oh? Did you meet her in Vermont?”
“Yes.” There was a long pause before she said, “I can’t wait to meet her. See you at noon.”
I called Lindsey, and she answered, “Well Good Morning Romeo, I was going to wait until nine to call you. How was your date?”
“It was great. The restaurant was really nice, and the food was excellent.”
“And?”
“And, after dinner, we went back to her place and spent the evening talking about a lot of things. She has a degree in Finance and is almost finished with her Masters.”
“And?” She asked again, with a bit of a song in her voice.
“And no to the question that you’re dying to ask!
“Why Daryl, whatever do you mean?” she said with a laugh.
“Remember when I said to you that I couldn’t believe that Ethan Falls was a hotbed of crime and passion? Well, I was wrong on both counts. Mandy’s coming home with me for a long weekend. That’s why I’m calling. I think I’ll be back at the hotel late Monday afternoon.”
“Daryl, I’m so happy for you. I think she’s the one, my friend.”
I hesitated for a moment “You may be right. Any update on the Judge?”
“He’s holding his own, every day he seems a little stronger. He’s talking more and sleeping less. He still has some pain, but they’re working on that.”
“That’s great news. Are you going home for the weekend?”
“Yes, I’ll sleep there tonight and come back to the hospital in the afternoon. I think I’ll be able to spend my nights at home next week.
“Okay, if anything comes up, and I mean anything, call me on my cell. I’ll only be an hour away.”
“I will. Have a great weekend my friend. And promise you’ll tell me all about it when I see you.”
“Well, you don’t really mean all, do you?”
“Good Bye Lover Boy!” she said as I ended the call.
I still had an hour to kill, so I sat at the desk and made some notes to start my inquiries next week. I wanted to interview Billy Barnum and visit the doctor who reportedly did Susan’s autopsy.
That procedure is usually done in a hospital, and I was curious what evidence he obtained, and get my hands on any post-mortem lab reports.
I also wrote down the name of the bail bondsman that Deputy Savage used. That bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
I jotted down ‘ambulance crew’ as a reminder to touch base with them to see if they could provide any leads.
County Attorney Petrone mentioned he was concerned with many of the Sheriff’s drug arrests. I needed to look at some arrest reports to see how they were making these seizures.
The most important, straight to the heart of the matter, was for me to learn more about the immigrant resettlement program. Were there really drug dependent kids there?
I pulled the three-page letter that Donnelly gave me out of my blazer jacket pocket and re-read it. There were some serious allegations in there and I had to find a way to identify who could have written it. Supplying a militia with weapons and vehicles is a high threat accusation. I needed to know more about any extremist activity in Vermont if it existed at all.
I pulled into Mandy’s condo lot at quarter to ten and rang the bell. I heard the deadbolt click and was greeted with a hug and a kiss. She stepped back and said, “I’ve never seen you in jeans before. You look so young!”
“Are you insinuating that when I have a suit I look old?”
“No silly, you look great.” I noticed that she had two small suitcases and a garment bag by the door.
“I’m a little early, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ve been ready for an hour! I’m so excited to spend some time with you.”
“Me too.” She locked her front door, and I carried her suitcases to the car. She carefully placed the garment bag in the trunk.
“I know you said a casual weekend, and that’s great, but I brought a couple dresses just in case.” I opened her door for her and she slid into the seat. In two minutes, we were on our way.
Our ride down Route 7 was relaxed. She asked me about my house, the housekeeper and her husband’s names, where they lived, generally just idle conversation. I did my best to be vague with my answers. After about twenty minutes she said, “Did you by chance see this morning’s paper?” I said I did and asked why.
“Did you see in the police blotter? It reported Savage getting arrested,” she said.
“I did. I was surprised because it said a bondsman bailed him out at the hospital, and they listed the company’s name. That’s unusual.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured, but didn’t elaborate.
“Freedom Bail Services, have you ever heard of them?” I asked.
“I’ve seen their ads in the paper and they have a sign near the county jail.”
I hadn’t given a thought to a county jail and asked, “Where’s the jail, in Ethan Falls?”
No, it’s in Hamilton, two towns over. The Sheriff’s Department runs it and from what I’ve heard it’s a hell hole.”
“Oh? What have you heard?”
“That the guards are animals. They beat up the prisoners; they abuse the women that are in there.”
“They hold women prisoners there?” I asked.
“Yeah, they have a couple of women guards. Real beasts I was told.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I have a girlfriend whose boyfriend got arrested for drunk driving. He deserved to get arrested for that, but the cops beat him up and said he resisted arrest. We all knew that was a lie, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” “They towed his car and his parents had to come up with a thousand dollars cash to bail him out. They didn’t have it, so they had to call the Freedom people. They said it would cost $2000 but they would accept payments. They had to put up their house as collateral.”
“And then he had to pay a couple of hundred dollars to get his car back. His parents went crazy because they found out that the tow truck people were relatives of the Sheriff. I wouldn’t be surprised if he owns the Freedom Company too.”
“How did he make out in Court?”
“The judge fined him $100 for the drunk driving and they dropped the other charges.”
“Wow, that’s crazy.” Silently I was saying, “Thank you, Mandy.” I would have to look into Freedom Bail Services.
As I drove Mandy played with the radio and told me about a half-dozen times how much she loved my car. I was silently glad when she settled on a sixties soft rock station on the Sirius.
Right after we crossed over into Massachusetts she asked if I saw a gas station could I stop so she could use the restroom. No emergency she said, but I stepped up my speed, anyway. Five minutes later I pulled up to the pumps at a station.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab something to munch on. Would you like anything?” I told her no thanks.
I filled up the Challenger and Mandy came into the store as I was paying. She selected a drink and an energy bar, I paid for us and we left.
“I have to say, that’s the cleanest gas station bathroom that I’ve ever been in,” she said with a laugh.
She was quiet during the ride, occasionally humming or singing to the tunes on the radio. After she had her snack, she reached over and held my hand.
She asked me some more questions about my house. “Was it big? Did it have a nice yard? How far from town was it?” She said she pictured it as a white Victorian, with rose bushes and flowers in front. I told I thought she’d like it, but I wanted her to be surprised.
I told you that I never knew my great uncle, but apparently, he was in love with Frank Lloyd Wright’s prairie house school of design.
The house was built in the early fifties and was four thousand square feet all on one level. It featured two guest en-suite bedrooms, as well as a large master with bath. It had a family room and a sunken living room with two-story glass along the full length of the back wall. Both rooms had huge stone fireplaces.
In the year and a half since Aunt Clarice passed, I had all new windows installed, the outside was clad in cedar, upgraded all the mechanicals and bought new appliances and some furniture.
Bernie and Erik’s house sits on two acres off to the left as you pull into my driveway, and both houses enjoyed privacy from each other. To their credit, they handled all the contractors and upgrades pretty much by themselves since I was in Boston and could only be home on some weekends. They wouldn’t take a penny from me for their efforts, saying my Great Aunt had left them and their daughters financially set for life.
The last of the work was finished a week ago, and I myself hadn’t seen its completed look. This should be fun.
We pulled into my road at noon and Mandy saw the bronze sign embedded in the front stone wall.
“What’s Stonegarden?” she asked pointing at the sign.
“That’s the name of the estate.”
“Estate?” She looked to my left and pointed to Bernie and Erik’s Cape.” Is that your house?”
“Nope,” and as we rounded a slight curve to the right she saw the full expanse of the front of my house. The lawn was freshly mowed, the flowers were in full bloom, and yes, there were roses.
“This is my house,” I said as I crept the Challenger up the driveway.
“Oh My God!” she exclaimed,” this can’t be real; this has to be a dream!”
“No dream, this is where I live.” I stopped at the entrance to the barn garage.” I hope you like it.”
“I’m speechless!” she said, fumbling to release her seatbelt.
I had no sooner shifted into park and she was outside the car holding her head in her hands. “This is gorgeous; I can’t believe you live here.” I crossed over to her, and she hugged me hard.
“Thank You! Thank You! I’ve never seen a house like this in my life. At least not in person.”
I popped the trunk, grabbed her suitcases and my dirty laundry bag and handed her the garment bag.”
“Come in and let’s see what you think about the inside,” I said.
Now, I could have gone into the house through the kitchen, but in all honesty, I wanted Mandy to go through the front door for the full visual effect. I don’t think I’m a vain person, but I wanted to see her excitement. After everything that had happened to her this week, I wanted her to be happy.
I unlocked the double front doors, and we stepped into the foyer. The slate floor was polished to a gloss shine, straight across were an ultra-wide doorway and the three carpeted steps leading down into the Grand Room, as I had named the living room. I set the bags down on the floor.
“Should I take my shoes off?” she asked in almost a whisper. She sounded like a little kid.
“Of course not, and you don’t have to whisper. This is my house, come in and check it out.”
When she saw the piano in front of the massive glass wall, I thought she was going to faint.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “A baby grand! Do you play?” She quickly walked across the room and gently touched the rosewood case. A thought flashed through my mind that she looked like a little kid rushing to see her presents under the tree on Christmas morning.
“No, I don’t. My Aunt did, but it hasn’t been played for many years. I had it tuned but I wouldn’t know if it was done right. It’s actually very old.”
“Oh my God, it looks brand new. I play a little, may I try it?”
“Of course!”
She sat down, and I heard the soft melody of Moonlight Sonata as if
I was in Carnegie Hall.
After about three minutes she stopped, looked up, and said, “The tone is excellent, the pitch is perfect, and the keys feel like they’ve never been touched.”
“I haven’t seen how the rest of the work came out,” and I took her hand. “We have some exploring to do,” and I led her down the hall to the kitchen, dining room, and two guest suites.
Everywhere we looked she said, “Oh My God!” I must admit all the new appliances looked great, Bernie had made up the guest suites in a perfect combination of color and fabric, and the tile work in the bathrooms was exquisite. My money was well spent I thought.
“Where’s our bedroom?” she asked, wrapping her arm around my waist and leaning into my chest.
“It’s at the other end of the house, past the Grand Room. I started the tour in the wrong direction! Let’s go, I’ll show you.”
When we crossed into the master we were both in awe. With the sunlight streaming through the windows, the new furniture, the curtains, drapes, and colors made it look like a five-star hotel room. The master bath with its marble tile, raised Jacuzzi double soaking tub, and walk-in steam shower was over the top. Even I was starting to think that I didn’t really live here! Did I need all this?
Mandy turned to me and took my hands. “Daryl Richardson, you are a man of many surprises. Thank you for bringing me here. Her kiss was soft and long, and I liked that.
“C’mon, let’s get you unpacked and I’ll show you around outside.” I told her to make herself at home and I went back out to the kitchen.
I heard a tapping at the outside kitchen door and saw it was Bernie and Erik. I unlocked it and welcomed them in.
After a hug and handshake, Bernie said, “We don’t want to intrude, and we’ll only stay a minute, but I wanted to see if you and your friend needed anything.”
I looked at Erik and he rolled his eyes.
“That’s okay,” I said and went halfway down the hall to the master bedroom and called out to Mandy. I told her I wanted her to meet some folks and as she entered the kitchen, I couldn’t help but see Bernie and Erik’s eyes get big as they both broke out into smiles.
“Mandy, these are my dear friends, no, my extended family, Bernie and Erik Nichols.”
Mandy offered her hand to Bernie and said, “I’m pleased to meet you,” but Bernie pulled her close in a gentle hug and said,” No dear, we’re pleased to meet You! You’re beautiful, are you a model?”
Mandy blushed and softly said no. Bernie followed up with, “Well you should be.” Erik, the gentleman that he is, offered his hand i
n greeting.
As they left, Bernie showed Mandy the direct dial button on the house phone linked to her cell and told her if she needed anything or couldn’t find anything in the house to just call.
“They’re very nice. They remind me of Hansel and Gretel. Cute.”
“Hey! I want to show you the yard,” and walked her outside through the sliders in the family room. The deck overlooked a large meadow, and you could see the Berkshires in the skyline.
“This is magnificent,” she said,” like a postcard. How big is your yard?”
“I have seventy acres.”
“WHAT?” She exclaimed. SEVENTY ACRES? Who mows the lawn?”
I laughed and told her that Erik maintains about four acres around the house, that there are a couple of dairy farms still working in the area and I let them harvest the hay from the meadows, and that the rest was forest land. We went back into the kitchen.
I asked her if she was hungry and she said no. As for dinner, she said, "let’s just stay in.” Bernie had brought in some soft rolls, cold cuts and left us small lasagna. Mandy checked the refrigerator and saw there were greens and other vegetables for a salad.
She asked if she could soak in the tub and I told her absolutely and made her promise that she would do whatever she wanted without asking my permission. She saluted me and headed down the hall, pulling her top over her head as she walked.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge and looked at the pile of mail that Bernie had left for me. I went through the envelopes and saw that most of it were from my lawyer and accountants. My monthly income and payment distributions summaries I suspected. They could wait.
I sunk down into a recliner in the family room and switched on the new flat screen. I forget how big it is, but the more I looked at it I thought it may be too much for comfortable viewing. I guess I’ll have to give it a chance.
I sat there for about an hour switching through the channels when my cell phone beeped and vibrated. I saw it was Lindsey calling, and I answered quickly.
“Hello, Lindsey, anything wrong? Are you and the Judge OK?”
“Daryl, hi, no, we’re okay, but something happened that I think you should know about. Mark Savage is dead.”