Dead of Autumn

by Sherry Knowlton

  With his hand on the doorknob, Caleb asked, “Are we on for next Saturday night? I would really like to start spending time together during the week, but I’m still pretty tied up most evenings with the business. And, of course, my parents want us to start coming to Sunday dinners after church. But, we can talk about that later. For now, can we confirm next Saturday?”

  “Sure,” Alexa responded with a sinking heart. When Caleb left, she huddled on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. What a fool. She had deluded herself tonight, lulled by the familiarity of a relaxed dinner and great sex. Now, she realized with certainty, things had changed.

  Caleb wanted more than a casual relationship. Even before Kingdom Lodge, she had known that Caleb Browne was never going to be a permanent relationship. She had thought he was just looking for fun, too.

  How did I miss the signs that Caleb was becoming more serious, she fretted.

  “Next Saturday, I’ll have to break things off,” Alexa announced to Scout. “I can’t lead him on any longer.”

  Haley couldn’t wait to flag down Alexa after yoga class on Tuesday night. Melissa missed class, so it was just the two of them. Over huge cups of chai tea at the Om Cafe, Haley pumped Alexa for information on Reese Michaels.

  “OK, give. I thought you were dating Caleb Browne, who in my opinion is really hot. But, then I walk into Florentine’s on Friday night, and there you are with this other really fantastic looking guy. Are you two-timing Caleb? Have you moved on? You know, now that I am happily married, I need to get my thrills by living vicariously through you and Melissa.”

  “Reese and I are just friends. I met him a few weeks ago, and we’ve been doing some hiking together. I really like him, though.” Then, Alexa proceeded to tell her friend about the turn that her relationship with Caleb had taken.

  Haley sympathized with Alexa over the situation with Caleb. “But, honey, you’ve got to tell him. It sounds like he’s way more serious than you are. I think you need to break it off clean.”

  “I know you’re right. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

  Haley leaned her head over the table toward Alexa and lowered her voice, “Just in case you’re thinking about a rebound relationship with this Reese Michaels, I want to tell you what I heard about him. When Blair saw me talking to the two of you at Florentine’s, he told me that he had heard about this new ranger from some of his Elks buddies that work up at the park. They say that Michaels transferred here from a park out in the western part of the state after a big public incident. Apparently, a young girl who was staying in the campground accused him of sexual assault. I guess there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him, but the park officials moved him out of the area because of the scandal.”

  “I can’t believe that. Reese is one of the good guys. He seems to be up front and open with nothing to hide. That’s one of the things I like about him. The story can’t be true.”

  “Maybe there is more to it. You know how rumors get out of hand. Ask him about it and hear what he has to say. In the meantime, honey, be careful with that guy. Ted Bundy seemed like a good guy, too, until they found out how many women he killed.”

  “My God, Haley. We started this conversation with you telling me that Reese looks fantastic. Now, you’ve gone from rumors of an alleged sexual assault to accusing the guy of serial murder. That’s a pretty big leap.” They both broke into laughter, although Alexa quickly sobered as she thought of Elizabeth Nelson dead in Reese’s state forest.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wednesday, November 21, 1934.

  In slumber which broken shall be …

  A lurch of the car jarred Dewilla awake. Groggily, she realized that Daddy had pulled the Pontiac to the side of the road and turned off the motor. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Dewilla saw Norma awkwardly propped against the other corner of the wide back seat. Her sister’s arms were wrapped around Cordelia, who was still fast asleep. These days it seemed like Norma had stepped into Mama’s shoes and taken on a responsibility well beyond her twelve years. Cousin Winifred, who had come to take care of the family after Mama died, never really knew how to manage the girls. Lately, she barely even tried and spent most of her time with Daddy.

  Winifred opened the car door next to Dewilla and said in her breathy little girl’s voice, “Your daddy wants you to come out for a drink at this spring.” Winifred held the door for Dewilla while she clambered out. Norma eased from under Cordelia without disturbing the sleeping child and slipped out the far door.

  When Dewilla stepped out of the Pontiac into the cold November day, Daddy was bent over a stream of water that gushed from a pipe in a wall. The steep hill above the spring blocked the sun, and icicles clung to the rough stones surrounding the rusty old pipe.

  Daddy filled a tin cup with spring water and passed it around. When her turn came, Dewilla recoiled at the touch of cold metal on her lips, but she took a big sip to quench her thirst. Norma drank the rest and passed the empty cup back to Daddy while Winifred went to rouse Cordelia.

  When his youngest child emerged from the car, Daddy handed her a fresh cup of spring water. Cordelia gulped greedily then wailed when the cold water hit her empty stomach. “It hurts. It hurts,” she cried.

  “Silence, girl.” Daddy shouted. “I cannot abide your constant caterwauling.” His handsome face turned ugly with anger.

  Dewilla shrank away and pulled Cordelia into her arms. They both ran to Norma’s side. “She’s hungry.” Norma protested.

  “We are all hungry. Don’t keep harping on me. I know I haven’t been providing for you right. Your mother would be ashamed of me.” As he spoke, Daddy’s anger vanished to be replaced by the saddest look Dewilla had ever seen. He looked even sadder than the day Mama went home to heaven. His voice sank, “I am going to fix things so you young’uns won’t be hungry anymore.”

  Winifred put her arms around Daddy and whispered in his ear. Dewilla strained to hear but could only catch part of what Winifred was saying. “Elmo, you know it is for the best. We can manage better without.” Winifred’s remaining words were swallowed up by the bitter wind.

  Dewilla shivered uncontrollably. In the swift twilight of winter, afternoon had dissolved into evening. As Dewilla watched, deep shadows reached out and folded Daddy and Winifred into their darkness.

  Late November in Pennsylvania was cold, and the biting wind that whipped down this mountain road only added to Dewilla’s misery. However, the chill that filled Dewilla now was a different kind of feeling. Something she couldn’t name gripped Dewilla with an unspeakable dread that gnawed at her even stronger than the hollow space in her empty stomach …

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thoughts of Caleb and Reese preoccupied Alexa when she jumped out of her car near the clinic on Wednesday around noon. After jamming the parking meter full of quarters, she rushed down the sidewalk. Running late, she didn’t notice the young man from the picket line walking toward her until he was a few yards away.

  “Miss, could I speak to you?” She recognized him as the odd man out with the protestors; the one who wore jeans and a fleece jacket instead of the sober attire of the rest of the group.

  Alexa stepped off the curb and hurried across the street without replying. The last thing she wanted right now was a philosophical discussion with an anti-abortion activist. When Alexa reached the clinic door, she halted on the threshold and glanced back. The young man had returned to the group. She noticed that an immensely pregnant woman was brandishing a sign, perhaps the same one who had Miss June in an uproar last week. The pregnant woman looked familiar. Perhaps, Alexa thought, she was a regular who had been here before her pregnancy began to show.

  Alexa’s mind was not really on family planning business today. Even the news that the clinic was now receiving new threat letters almost daily, while alarming, could barely wrest Alexa’s focus away from her personal life.

  Dr. Kearns spoke briefly to Alexa about the threats. “Dr. Crowe and I don’t like that we’
ve been backed into a corner, but we’re hiring security during business hours. Because the threats haven’t stopped, the board approved the expense. Everyone agrees that our first obligation is to protect patients and staff. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Security is a good idea. Maybe these threats are just words on paper and nothing more. If that’s the case, they’ve already had an impact. Clearly, the notes have put everyone on edge. But, I think you and Frank are wise to take precautions. With the history of violence against abortion clinics, you’ve got to be careful.”

  By mid-afternoon, Alexa had developed a splitting headache and told Tanisha that she was going home to rest.

  “Honey, it’s no wonder you’re stressed with all these threats and talk of security. You go home, take some aspirin, and lie down for a while.” Tanisha admonished.

  “I wish it was that simple, Tanisha. The stress that is causing this headache comes from not one, but two guys. And, I don’t think either aspirin or a nap is the answer.”

  When she left the clinic, Alexa kept an eye out for the young man in the fleece jacket. However, he and the other protestors were gone.

  Alexa’s father walked into her office around ten o’clock the next morning. When Alexa looked up in surprise, she was shocked at the haggard look on his face.

  “I didn’t think today was one of your days in the office, Dad. Is something wrong? Is Mom OK?”

  “Your mother is fine, Alexa. But, I do have bad news, and I wanted you to hear it from me. Alice called to tell me that Frank Crowe has been shot. It happened last night around nine when he was leaving the clinic. He wasn’t even on duty. He had just stopped by to pick up some notes for a newsletter article.”

  “Oh, no.” Alexa jumped to her feet in consternation. “So, these threats we’ve been getting were real.” Tears filled her eyes. “Who would do something like this to Doc?” She hesitated, dreading the reply, then asked, “Is he dead?”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I should have told you right away that Frank’s alive. He’s holding his own at the hospital, but it is very serious. Apparently, the shot missed his heart, but they had to remove part of his lung. The doctors are concerned about more than the initial trauma. With Frank’s age, recovery from almost any surgery becomes tricky.”

  “Dad, I can’t believe this. I came home partly because the city was too dangerous. But, now I seem to be surrounded by violence. A dead girl in the woods. Frank Crowe, one of your oldest friends, shot. All the staff at the clinic threatened. What is going on?”

  Her father moved to fold Alexa in his arms. “I know you’re upset, baby. I’m sick about this, and your mother is frantic. We are both worried about Frank surviving this gunshot wound. However, what frightens us the most, Alexa, is that all of this has come too close to you.”

  “I think I should go over to the clinic and see how everyone is doing. Elise and the staff must be so worried about Dr. Crowe. He is the heart and soul of that place. They all must be freaked out about their own safety as well.”

  “The clinic is closed today. The police have the place cordoned off and are processing the crime scene. All the staff members are either being interviewed by the police or were told to stay home. I expect that the place will be closed for the next few days.”

  Alexa struggled to concentrate on work. When she called the hospital, they could only say that Frank was in critical condition. Just shy of seventy, Dr. Crowe was in great health, but she worried about his capacity to recover from a serious gunshot wound. He was no spring chicken.

  She called Elise Kearns to find out how she was coping. Knowing that Elise rattled easily, Alexa was pleasantly surprised to find the doctor in a fighting mood.

  Elise declared, “The clinic will be open for business as soon as the police give the word. The new security company will be patrolling the building night and day. We’re not going to let this stop us from providing services.”

  Alexa worked late to finish a project that Graham needed the next day. When she left the law office by the back door and walked to her car, Alexa felt a little jumpy. The familiar parking lot seemed darker than usual, even though Alexa knew she only saw danger in the shadows because of what had happened to Dr. Crowe.

  On the way home, Alexa stopped at the supermarket for milk and dog food. She had been away from home a lot lately and had been neglecting Scout a bit. She didn’t want to add insult to injury by making him go hungry. Although she didn’t have much of an appetite, Alexa picked up a takeout order of ham and green beans, too.

  In the parking lot, Alexa hefted the twenty-five pound bag of dry food into her Land Rover and closed the back door. When she turned to lift the smaller bag from the shopping cart, she saw the young man from the clinic who wore the fleece jacket walking toward her. At his side strode another young man wearing a baseball cap. When the second man lifted his head, she recognized him as the tall black protestor who she had also seen on the clinic picket lines.

  “Can I speak to you for a minute?” the young white man called out as he approached. “You work at the clinic, don’t you?”

  Alexa panicked. She grabbed the grocery bag in one hand and with a hard push, shoved the empty shopping cart toward the two men. She leapt into the car and turned the ignition key. The parking space ahead was vacant, so she floored the Land Rover and lurched forward, squealing the tires. Alexa looked in her rearview mirror. The young men stood in the parking lot watching her leave.

  Alexa drove several blocks then pulled over to fasten her seatbelt. Her hands were shaking so badly she had trouble inserting the belt into the buckle. Keeping watch in the rearview mirror, she called 911 and reported the incident. She told the 911 operator that these men picketed the clinic and could have something to do with Dr. Crowe’s shooting. The operator asked her name and location. Alexa gave her name and address but said, “If the police want to speak to me, they can find me at home or at my law practice tomorrow.”

  Watching to make sure that no one followed, Alexa drove home. After she carried the groceries into the house and greeted Scout, Alexa collapsed onto the couch. She was so weary that she could barely lift her head.

  Maybe this is a reaction from the adrenalin rush, she thought. Or, maybe everything is just catching up to me. I always thought the protestors were harmless. But, those two guys scared me. What if they’re the ones who shot Dr. Crowe? What did they want with me? Is everyone associated with the clinic in danger?

  Alexa lay on the couch absently stroking Scout, who was nestled on the floor beside her. One thought after another ricocheted around her mind—Dr. Crowe crumpling to the ground with a bullet in his chest; the guys in the parking lot; Elizabeth Nelson sitting with her back to the door in an exam room; the same delicate blonde dead beneath a mountain laurel.

  As she ruminated, Alexa wondered for the first time: could Dr. Crowe’s attack and Elizabeth Nelson’s death be related?

  The ringing telephone roused Alexa from her thoughts. A borough policeman reported that they had not located any men at the supermarket matching the description. An officer would interview Alexa in the morning.

  While she was nuking the takeout ham and green beans in the microwave, the phone rang again. Reese had heard about Dr. Crowe. Alexa was pleased that he called, but that pleasure was overshadowed by mistrust. Haley’s story about Reese’s involvement in a sexual assault scandal was still fresh. Given her recent experiences, Alexa wasn’t in a particularly trusting frame of mind. Still, Reese had sounded so concerned that she wanted to believe in him.

  Police filled Alexa’s Friday. First, an officer named Starke with the borough force came to the office to interview her about the parking lot incident the night before. Alexa told him that she had seen the two young men several times on the anti-abortion picket lines. “The white guy approached me once before outside the clinic. I admit that I’m on edge about Dr. Crowe’s shooting and the threats to the clinic. When these guys started walking toward me in the dark parking lot, I just
freaked.”

  “Understandable, Miss Williams,” Officer Starke said. “Did they threaten you in any way?”

  “No. They just said that they wanted to talk, but the whole thing was sketchy. No one else was around. I wasn’t going to give those guys the opportunity to attack me.”

  “Also understandable. At this point, we don’t have enough information to track down these two men. We’ve reviewed the videotapes from the supermarket but didn’t see anyone matching your description. We will continue to try to locate these two so that we can question them. Because of their presence at the clinic as protestors, we regard these two as persons of interest in the felony committed upon Dr. Crowe.

  “As a lawyer, you must realize that at this point we have nothing to hold them on. Although, understandably, you felt intimidated by these two young men, technically, they did not threaten or harm you in any way. Even if you file a formal complaint, it would be difficult to charge them with any crime. We will, however, continue to track them down.”

  When Officer Starke left her office, Alexa sat back to reflect. The discussion left her torn between feeling somewhat foolish and somewhat pissed at Officer Starke. As the interview progressed, his questions took an increasingly condescending tone. By the end, the cop’s skepticism was so apparent that Alexa imagined he was mocking her.

  The policeman’s behavior had been very unprofessional, but his questions had forced Alexa to reconsider last night’s encounter.

  Did I jump too quickly to the conclusion that those two men were trying to harm me? Perhaps. But how could I know what they intended? I did what I needed to protect myself. Either way, that policeman was a jerk, and his attitude was uncalled for. Doc Crowe was just shot; yet, Officer Starke acted like I’m some hysterical woman jumping at shadows.