LET ME GO (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 5)

by Willow Rose

  Torben had worked for Mrs. Heinrichsen for as long as he could remember. Drove her around wherever she needed to go. Did some handiwork around the house whenever it was needed, or at least made sure the right people were called to fix it. He was her go-to guy, as they said in the movies. Torben didn't mind that. In fact, he enjoyed being needed by someone. Ever since his wife had passed away six years ago, the old house seemed so empty. The kids had moved away many years ago, off to the mainland, to the big city to lives of their own and they soon forgot all about their old father rotting away on the island.

  Back in the day when Mr. Heinrichsen was still alive, Torben had not liked his job very much. He simply didn't like Mr. Heinrichsen and the way he treated people. Well, the old lady wasn't much better herself, and age didn't seem to soften her up, but Torben had known her for many years now and knew she wasn't so bad once you really got to know her. She would boss him around, yes, but now that Yvonne wasn't alive anymore, he quite frankly liked to have someone tell him what to do from time to time. It had that familiar feeling to it. Like he had a purpose.

  Torben broke out of his reverie and fixed his cap and tie to make sure they were on straight. Mrs. Heinrichsen preferred him to look right. She didn't like sloppiness, and over the years, Torben had learned to appreciate this fact. You didn't find much of that these days anymore. Discipline, self-control. It was all in the character, and Mrs. Heinrichsen had helped Torben build his character. She had made him stronger. Not with a loving and caring attitude, but by being harsh and hard on him when he needed it the most. Like when Yvonne died. It had nearly broken him. He was about to slide into a deep depression, when Mrs. Heinrichsen told him to stop feeling sorry for himself.

  "Just get over it," she had said.

  She had given him a day off to go to the funeral, actually a whole week, but the next day he had shown up at her doorstep, his cap in his hand, asking her if she needed him today. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she hadn't any plans, but she had come up with some.

  "As a matter of fact, you're late," she had said, with her well-known snort that Torben had hated so much, but suddenly found very comforting, very familiar. "I have to see my hairdresser in ten minutes and with all this traffic, it's going to take at least fifteen."

  "Then let's get going," he said with a huge smile, and brought the car out. Of course the old lady didn't have an appointment, but the hairdressers found time for her anyway. She had a way like that. She could make people jump for her.

  That was when Torben realized the old woman did have a heart. They never talked about the death of Yvonne or Torben's sadness again, but they didn't have to. Somehow, they had found each other, a strange sort of friendship in the middle of it all, and that was enough for him. He didn't need her pity or her compassion. He needed everything to go back to normal, and so it had. It made coming home to the empty house a lot easier when he knew there was someone needing him in the morning.

  Torben whistled and waited in the driveway for the big old wooden door to open, but minutes passed and nothing happened. Torben wrinkled his nose. In all the thirty years Torben had worked for the lady, she had never ever been late once. A feeling of unease was starting to spread in his body as the minutes passed by, and finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. Mrs. Heinrichsen was supposed to be at her lawyer's office on the mainland at ten, and if she didn't come out now, they weren't going to catch the ferry.

  Torben knew Mrs. Heinrichsen would be very angry with him for doing this, but something compelled him to walk up the stairs and walk into the big old house.

  "Hello?" he said, hoping Mrs. Heinrichsen had merely overslept. "Mrs. Heinrichsen? The car is ready for you? The ferry leaves in half an hour."

  As he received no answer, Torben's heart started racing in his chest. This was not good, he thought, and ran up the stairs and down the hallway. He knocked on her bedroom door with his cap in his hand.

  "Mrs. Heinrichsen. We're going to be late."

  He knocked twice, three times, and when there was still no answer, he took in a deep breath and did what he had never done before. He walked into Mrs. Heinrichsen's bedroom.

  "I'm sorry to do this but…"

  Torben froze at the sight of the old lady lying on her bed with her empty eyes staring into the ceiling. Then he cried. Not because he was reminded of the time he had come home and found his wife in the same position, dead from a heart attack on the same bed where she had given birth to their two sons, and not because he was sad that he was now going to be really alone, since no one would need his services any longer. No, Torben cried because of what had happened to Mrs. Heinrichsen’s body. He cried and sobbed because never in his sixty years of living had he been in the presence of such cruelty.

  END OF EXCERPT!

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