by Darrell Case
It seemed light years now since she had boarded the Greyhound bus for Washington, D.C. The small farm outside the village of Elm Grove, Indiana seemed lifetime away.
Allison shuttered as the bloodied bodies of her parents past before her eyes. The day after her father hired Joe Brimmer he declared a holiday. For 27 years, Frank Stevens single handedly worked the farm with only the help of his wife and daughter. Now finally he was able to afford a small fee for a hired hand. Frank took 18 year - old Allison and her mother for a sit down meal at The Crossing Cafe. Mildred Hardesty owned the only restaurant in Elm Grove. The elderly woman made each of her guests feel special. That night she pulled out all the stops. Knowing Frank wouldn't stand for her giving them a free meals she baked a German chocolate cake for the occasion.
Little did the family know Brimmer was an ex-con released from Michigan City State Prison only two weeks before. Joe had served 25 years for committing murder during a liquor store robbery.
Things seemed to go well for a while. Joe was a hard worker with a full knowledge of running a farm. For the first time in years, Frank had time to relax.
One afternoon he brought out maps and laid them on the kitchen table. The family began planning their first vacation in 15 years. They discussed renting a cabin in the Smokey Mountains or taking a trip to New York City. Their new hired hand assured them he could handle things while they were away. Alison went to sleep that night excited about seeing a new area of the country.
Joe seemed happy to sleep on the screened in porch.
If the weatherman predicted rain, he would move to the barn loft. As school, ended Allison began working at the Dairy Queen in Sullivan. Her shift ran from 2 to 10 PM. She saved half her pay for vacation and half for college. Frank planned on their trip south the last two weeks of July. In June he began to notice that things had disappeared.
At first it was small items, like vegetables from the garden, oil from the shop, a screwdriver or wrench. Then larger objects, sacks of cattle feed, hay from the field. Frank agonized for a week about confronting Brimmer. Then a new tractor tire disappeared.
Frank debated with himself for several days more before facing down Joe. He waited until a Saturday evening after supper. They were enjoying thick slices of pie.
“You accusing me of stealing? After I worked my tail off for you and your lousy family?” Joe shouted, jumping up he so fast the chair overturned and hit the linoleum floor with a smack. It fell to the old linoleum floor with a bang.
“I think you'd better leave. Get your stuff and get out,” Frank said. He turned away, intending to open the back door for Joe.
“You old hog,”Joe yelled, grabbing a butcher knife off the sink. He swung it at Frank, the razor sharp instrument sliced through Frank's neck nearly severing his head. Hysterical after witnessing the murder of her husband, Becky Stevens came at Brimmer with a frying pan. Joe turned to face the screaming woman. He easily knocked the skillet away, and drove the knife into her left breast. Becky fell, the knife protruding from her back and pinning her to the floor.
Calmly, Joe poured himself another cup of coffee. He finished his pie while watching the couple bleed out.
After Frank and Becky breathed their last, Joe began ransacking the house. He put anything even of questionable value in a feed sack he had gotten from the barn.