Breaking Ground

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Breaking Ground Page 22

by William Andrews


  Julie and Rich went to the door he had indicated and changed into their bathing suits. As they reentered the bare basement, the Nilssons came through the other door. Frank opened the sauna door and gestured to Julie and Rich to enter. She had been so busy today that she hadn’t thought about the sauna until she stood in front of the door. For a very brief moment she froze, imagining the tight space and wondering if she could go through with it. But when Frank opened the door she saw that the room was quite large—easily ten feet wide and fifteen or twenty feet long. She was amazed and relaxed at once.

  Inside, happy that she was feeling so comfortable, she said that the smell made her think of her mother’s cedar chest, Frank laughed and explained: “Whole thing’s cedar. Resists moisture—and it does smell nice, doesn’t it? Here, come try the benches.”

  A single bench ran the length of the room, and on the two ends were double benches, the lower ones jutting out into the room so you could step on them to reach the uppers. Julie sat on the long one, and Rich joined her while Patty settled onto a lower one on the end. Julie could feel Frank’s eyes on her as she crossed her legs. He’s checking me out, she thought, and not too subtly either. Maybe it had been wrong to come here.

  “Now for the steam,” Frank said as he stood up. “I’ll start.” He walked over to a wooden bucket, dipped into it with a large metal scoop, and splashed water onto the electric heating unit. Steam rushed up at him, and he quickly stepped back. “Have to be careful when you do it. Stand away so the steam doesn’t hit your eyes.” He ladled out several more scoops of water, and the room, large as it was, was enveloped in steam. Frank sat down beside Julie rather than joining his wife on the bench at the end of the room. “You can add some water in a minute, Julie. I’ll show you how when the time comes.”

  Julie, still feeling the distaste of Frank’s ogling, wondered exactly how Frank would show her—helping himself to a few feels as he directed her in the use of the scoop? “Maybe Rich should go first,” she said.

  “Sure,” Frank said. “But we can wait a minute. Smell that? It’s not the cedar now. There’s pine pitch in the water—nice clean smell, isn’t it?”

  Julie and Rich agreed that it was. Rich started a conversation with Patty about how often they used the sauna. Patty was as bright and pleasant as she had been with Julie yesterday when the two of them had looked through the boxes of family papers.

  “Okay,” Frank interrupted. “Time for some more steam. Rich?” Rich took his turn with the water and rejoined them on the bench. They sat in silence for several minutes, soaking in the steam. “Your turn,” Frank said in Julie’s direction as he leaned toward her. But she jumped up and asked Rich to help her with the water before Frank could offer instructions. She enjoyed splashing the water and stepping out of range of the steam; the smell of the pine pitch was pleasing, and she said so.

  “Thought you’d like it,” Frank answered. “Now we have to be careful. See that timer? I set it when we came in. It’s best to limit yourself to fifteen or twenty minutes for the first round. When the timer goes off we step outside and cool down. Take a quick shower if you like. Then come back for another round. I call it layering. It’s what really relaxes you.”

  Rich resumed his conversation with Patty, and Julie and Frank sat quietly until the bell on the timer sounded. “Everyone out of the pool!” Frank said. The unfinished basement seemed freezing now, though it was obviously only the sharp contrast with their body heat that made it so. “You don’t want to shiver,” Frank explained, “but it’s good to get just about to that point before you get back in.” They circled around the room, Rich now asking Frank about the house and the sauna.

  “Planned the sauna from the beginning,” Frank answered, “and I’m glad I did. It’s a great family experience, and we enjoyed it with the kids in the years before they left.”

  Rich inquired about the Nilsson children, and Patty rather than Frank responded, enthusiastically reciting their college choices, their majors, their prizes and achievements. “Ted graduates this year, Sue next. Hard to believe,” Patty said. “They’re both working this summer. Sue’s in Portland and Ted’s working for Frank at Boothbay. Ted’s staying at our camp there, and Sue will join us for a couple of weekends when I spend the month there.”

  “Patty,” Frank sharply interrupted, “I doubt Julie and Rich share your fascination for our wonderful offspring.” Before Julie could counter him, he continued: “Let’s do a second round.” He held open the door to the sauna while the three others reentered and took up places on the benches. As Frank ladled more water onto the stove, the rising steam filled the room. “Twelve minutes should be enough this time,” he announced as he set the timer. “So, what were we talking about?”

  Julie was tempted to return to the Nilsson children, not that she really cared but to spite Frank for cutting off his wife so impolitely. Instead, she decided it was a good opportunity to bring up the question of Frank’s joining the historical society’s board, because with Patty and Rich present she could do it quickly and casually. Although the steam made it hard for her to see his face as clearly as she wished, Julie thought she saw a flicker of annoyance after she mentioned that the board was postponing the election of new trustees until the construction project was well launched. If he was annoyed, his response didn’t show it: “Probably smart,” he said. “I’ve got my hands full with Birch Brook anyway, but keep me on the list. Now, speaking of full hands, shall we have some Akvavit, Patty?”

  His wife rose obediently and started for the door. “I’ll bring it down,” she said. “I’m getting pretty hot anyway.”

  “Akavit?” Rich asked.

  “Ak-va-vit,” Frank corrected him. “Danish—means water of life or something. Traditional sauna drink—chug down a couple of shots of ice-cold Akvavit and some little sausages and you really understand what sauna is all about.”

  Rich offered to help, explaining that he, too, was feeling pretty hot. Before she realized it or could act, Julie was alone with Frank. Neither spoke as Frank added more water. Julie was beginning to experience the steamy heat in an unpleasant way, feeling it was wrapping around her like a smothering blanket. When Frank sat beside her on the long bench, she was tempted to move to one of the smaller end seats. Before she could, he put his hand on her bare knee and patted it gently, in an almost fatherly way.

  “It must be hard for you, Julie,” he said, “to be working with that board of dinosaurs. I was looking forward to coming on, as your friend and supporter. But I guess they’re not ready for me.”

  “It’s not a question of whether they want you on the board, Frank,” she said, putting her hand on his as if to reassure him and then gently moving it off her knee. “It’s just a timing issue: Things are so busy they want to get some stability before adding to the board. I know they’re eager to have you join.”

  “You’re a good soldier,” he said. He stood, headed to the bucket, and, using the metal scoop, dribbled water across the heating unit. “When the time’s right I’ll still be happy to get involved,” he said as he started back toward the bench, still carrying the scoop. He walked slowly toward her, twirling the wooden handle in his right hand, which made the nine-inch round scoop itself rotate slowly. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do with the project,” he continued as he stood over her now, still twirling. “You really ought to keep focused on that. Not worry about other things so much.”

  “I’m not sure I follow, Frank.” Julie shifted away from him.

  “Just keep your eyes on the ball, Julie,” he said as he held the scoop in front of him. The metal portion did resemble a ball. Was that what he was trying to illustrate? she wondered. “The construction project,” he added. “If I were you, I’d let someone else deal with stuff like the archives. You were very nice to have a look at Patty’s family papers, and I know you keep track of what goes on in the library. But Tabby Preston can handle all that. No need for you to worry about things like the old Oakes diary, or papers an
d letters and the like. It’d be better for you to let others do that so you can concentrate on the project. Just a word to the wise, Julie—advice from someone who’s been around the block.”

  As he spoke, Frank was looking intently into Julie’s eyes. Then he turned and walked toward the heater and replaced the scoop in the bucket. The message Julie got came as much from Frank’s look as from the words—or even the scoop that he used like a baton to accompany them. Was it kindly advice? Or a warning? Julie really wasn’t sure. Before she could respond, he turned back to her and held up the timer. “Couple of minutes left, but I think I hear Patty and Rich. Shall we try that Akvavit?”

  CHAPTER 39

  The Akvavit, icy cold, went rapidly from Julie’s mouth to her stomach to her brain. She felt momentarily disoriented, woozy from the steamy heat, unsteady enough to take Rich’s arm for support. “Eat some sausages and crackers,” he told her. A few nibbles helped, but she continued to hold onto him. Patty noticed and asked if Julie was okay.

  “I think so,” she said, uncertain if that was true.

  “Better stick to one shot,” Frank said pleasantly. “Pretty powerful stuff. Why don’t you folks take a cool shower and get dressed? I guarantee you’ll feel better then, Julie.”

  The concern for her well-being was so obvious in Frank’s words and tone that Julie had trouble connecting what he had just said to what he had said to her in the sauna. Actually, she had trouble connecting much right now and was happy Rich took over. He guided her into the changing room and into the shower.

  The pulsing water revived her.

  “That Akvavit really hit you.”

  “I guess so, but I think it was more than that. In the sauna, when you and Patty were gone, Frank talked to me about the historical society, about being willing to join the board later, and then about how I should focus on the construction project and not get involved in diaries and letters. ‘Keep your eyes on the ball’; ‘a word to the wise.’ It was really strange—I think it was a warning. And he was sort of brandishing that water scoop while he talked, twirling it around.”

  “Threatening you?” Rich asked, alarmed.

  “Not exactly. Maybe just a nervous thing, wanting to hold something while he talked. I don’t know, Rich—maybe I just got too hot in there and was imagining things.”

  “Or maybe Akvavit’s not your drink,” he said, adjusting the water temperature.

  “Too cold!” Julie said.

  “No, it’s good this way—bracing. It’ll wake you up.”

  They took turns standing directly under the shower, but after two turns Julie said she was cool enough. “And wide awake,” she added. “I can see how this works—warming, cooling, warming, cooling. Have to admit it’s refreshing.”

  Although the shower hadn’t fully washed away Julie’s concerns about Frank’s comments in the sauna, nor his hand on her leg, which she decided not to tell Rich about at least for now, by the time they had dried and dressed and gone upstairs she was feeling relaxed and actually eager for dinner. After dinner they returned to the family room in the basement, Julie making sure she was beside Rich and across from Frank and Patty. Just before ten o’clock, the pent-up emotions of the last few days, combined with the aftereffects of the sauna and the wine and food, hit her with an almost physical force. She suddenly felt too exhausted to say another word. Rich and Frank continued to talk with animation, now focused on that perennial New England summer topic: the Boston Red Sox’s chances this year. If they didn’t leave now, Julie thought, Rich would surely have to carry her to the car. Patty sat up alertly when Julie interrupted the baseball talk to say they should be leaving. Julie hoped they hadn’t overstayed their welcome, but Frank was pleasant and talkative as he walked them upstairs and out to the driveway. “We’ll do it again,” he promised as he waved good-bye.

  “Nice evening, except the part about the threat,” Rich observed as he drove out of the residential area and came onto the access road just below the ski lodge.

  “I didn’t say it was a threat, exactly. I’m too tired to even talk about it. Sorry I pooped out,” Julie said. “Everything just hit me at once. It’s been such a crazy week. I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “Happy to be your guard dog for the night. Think you’ll be able to sleep?”

  “I’ll be lucky if I can stay awake to crawl up the stairs to the bedroom.”

  She was able, but once she hit the bed she was out instantly.

  The alarm clock said 12:25 when she awoke with a start. The memory of Wednesday night flooded in on her, but this time it wasn’t a noise downstairs that woke her. What woke her was Frank Nilsson. They were alone in the sauna, and he was wielding a shovel instead of the water scoop, and calmly but menacingly walking toward her through the steam and repeating “a word to the wise,” “a word to the wise.” The steam was filling the sauna, becoming thicker, covering her like a hot blanket. And still Frank kept coming, getting closer now, and still repeating that phrase. She shuddered and grabbed desperately at the blanket to tear it off her. And that woke Rich.

  “Sorry!” she said as she sat up. “I had a bad dream.”

  “It’s okay … I’m here. Don’t think about the other night.”

  “I wasn’t. I was dreaming about Frank Nilsson. In the sauna. Rich, it was really scary. I mean, when he talked to me in the sauna about staying away from the business of the diary and the letter, I sort of sensed it was a warning, but I wasn’t scared. I guess I really was but didn’t let myself think it then. But now I’m sure he was threatening me, warning me.”

  “About?”

  “About not trying to put things together, to figure it out.”

  “This is why I’m so worried about all this, Julie. You may not have any idea what you’re getting into. You don’t really know these people.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Let’s finish this conversation in the morning.”

  When they woke at 6:30 on Saturday morning, Julie felt more rested than she’d expected. They lay in bed and talked quietly, Julie reviewing her dream and her unease about Frank, Rich mostly listening but interjecting occasional questions.

  “And the shovel—did I tell you my idea about that?” she asked. “That definitely needs to be checked out right away,” she resumed before he could respond.

  “Okay, okay,” Rich said when she finished. “Maybe. But I think we need a good long run to clear our heads.”

  She agreed, and as they did a cool-down walk across the Common, Rich said, “We’ve earned it.”

  “What?”

  “Breakfast. A big, high-calorie feast, with lots of coffee. Let’s go to the diner and indulge ourselves.”

  “I’m beginning to appreciate the value of running,” she said.

  The Saturday-morning crowd was different than the weekday customers. No carpenters and plumbers starting their day over coffee and gossip, no businessmen like Frank Nilsson. In fact, at eight when they arrived, the diner was nearly empty. Two young couples dressed for hiking occupied one table, and a woman sat at the counter reading the paper. Otherwise, they had the place to themselves.

  “So the shovel does seem to be key,” Rich said after they placed their order. “You should just tell Barlow your idea and then drop the whole thing, Julie.”

  “What idea would that be,” a voice said. Julie and Rich both turned to locate the source of the words. “Had a funny feeling I’d find you here,” Mike said. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please,” Julie said. “How come you thought we’d be here?”

  “I saw you running this morning, and when you didn’t answer at the house later, I guessed you’d be here. Rewarding yourself for running.”

  “It was Rich’s idea,” Julie said.

  “But you didn’t disagree,” Rich pointed out.

  “Julie’s gotten to be a regular here,” Mike said. “Pretty soon they’ll be giving you your own mug. Thanks, Doris,” he said to the waitress who handed him a cup of coffee. “Like mi
ne—see?” He held up a mug that said CHIEF OF POLICE.

  “You were looking for me?” Julie prompted.

  “Right. But let me just order.” He beckoned for the waitress and said, “The usual, Doris. So,” he said, turning to Julie, “I figured you’d be interested in what I found out about Frank Nilsson.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Julie said, “I have something to tell you about him, but go ahead.”

  “You remember Frank said he spent the night at the camp in Boothbay? I called there—didn’t expect an answer, but their son was there, Ted. Seems he’s working on Frank’s project and using the cabin. I told him I was checking out that famous auto accident we had here, and it turns out his dad came down Wednesday afternoon to check on the project.”

  “So his alibi checks out,” Julie said, with clear disappointment in her voice.

  “Did I say that? Matter of fact, Ted says his dad left around seven to drive back to Ryland. Didn’t spend the night.”

  “Wow! That means he lied to you—and that he did it. Or he could have.”

  “The first thing you said is true: Frank did lie to me, and I mean to sort this out with him. As to the other things, we’ll have to see. I’m going to go talk to Frank this morning, but the reason I was looking for you is that I wanted to find out more about that diary. Figure it might be useful to bring that up at the right moment, just to see his reaction. So tell me again why you think it’s important.”

  Julie explained that if the Oakes diary did contain information about a survey of the Birch Brook land, and that information was used in settling the dispute in the nineteenth century, then Frank might want to keep it from being discovered. “Patty was surprised it wasn’t in the boxes,” she reminded him, “and Frank is the one who brought the boxes from the rental storage place. So he could have taken it.”

  “That’s helpful. Just in case. Now I need to find out where he was Wednesday night. So,” he added, as he tucked into his eggs, “you said you had something to tell me about Frank.”

 

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