by Leona Fox
“No, that's art,” she replied offhandedly, then their eyes locked. “It has to be something to do with her paintings.”
Recently, in honor of her marriage, the local art gallery had hung up a number of Kelly's works for display. However, there wasn't anything to suggest they had been disturbed.
“There has to be something here,” Ellen said, and the two of them walked around the gallery to look for any sign of wrongdoing.
Andy came to another of Kelly's paintings, or at least one that looked like hers. When they looked at the plaque next to the painting they saw the name of a different artist, a male artist.
“This must have been what the riddle meant when it said look through his eyes to see the world as she does. Maybe seeing him means that he has something in common with these pictures.”
“Or the name of the artist...Javier Calvelo, well, if there is someone with that name he should be easy to trace.”
However, after some searching they found there was nobody by that name in East Pender, and in fact that artist never had left his native country. It made the mystery all the more intriguing and since there was no riddle they wondered if that was the end of it, which struck them as rather abrupt. Ellen returned to the cafe.
By this point, her interview had been published in the paper so a few people were coming up to her and congratulating her. She thanked them graciously but she had other things on her mind, for she was convinced things wouldn't end so easily and that another riddle would be forthcoming. She was lost in thought when a regular customer, Edward Carrey, came up to the bar. He had to clear his throat multiple times before Ellen was brought back to reality. The two of them always had enjoyed a good rapport, although mostly they only chit-chatted a little bit rather than speaking of anything substantial. It was the same on this occasion because she was far too distracted. Edward didn't seem to mind, though. He simply patted Scampy on the head and walked away. It was much the same for anyone else who tried to talk to Ellen that day.
Chapter 4
To try clearing her head, and also to work off all the food she had eaten at the wedding, Ellen was enjoying a morning run in the crisp, fresh air. She always enjoyed these times. All through her life she had been an early riser (even when she was a teenager), and she appreciated it because she was able to enjoy the town before most people awoke. It was a special feeling and made her feel serene inside. Everything was peaceful and calm, and it was all rather wonderful. Scampy dutifully ran beside her, tongue lolling out. Occasionally she would have to slow so his little legs could catch up with her.
Taking her usual route, she ran through the park and around the outskirts of town, running parallel with the Mississippi that gushed through the town, the clear blue water flowing freely. Her feet pounded on the ground as she turned onto Main Street, and carried on running until she heard voices, a great many of them. She was surprised for a moment, which soon vanished when she snapped her fingers and remembered what day it was, the farmers market. In all the excitement of the wedding and the intrigue of the riddles she was beginning to lose track of the days, or perhaps that was simply a sign of getting old.
Her pace slowed as she walked through the market and examined the stalls. The smells of fruit and vegetables made her stomach growl, as did the sight of slabs of meat.
“Ellen!” a deep voice called out.
She spun to see Jonathan and Ryan Arnott. The two farmers waved to her and she walked over happily. Jonathan, the older man, was looking much healthier than the last time she had seen him. It seemed as though the new medication was working, and Ryan, his son, looked much less troubled. On his face he wore a silly grin, and she imagined this was due to the young lady he had been courting.
They engaged in some small talk before she moved on and, since she was at the market, decided to get some supplies for the cafe. She did not have much money on her but still managed to get a trial sample of some new coffee and some other interesting-looking snacks. She always liked having a few unusual things available to keep things interesting and to give people a surprise when they came in. She had to order Scampy to heel, though. In environments such as this he was liable to get excited and run off, especially when there was such a vivid smell of meat in the air. He barked a few times and she could see how excitable he was getting.
“Time to get you home,” she said, and whistled.
He jumped to attention and followed her back, although his nose did twitch, unable to ignore all the delicious smells that wavered through the morning air. However just as she was about to leave she turned to look back at the market and realized that it seemed familiar. Indeed, it was almost the exact same scene as the painting they had found in the gallery. Ellen screwed up her face and moved back to the market, sure that it wasn't a coincidence. Scampy looked at her quizzically as she went back the way from which they just had come.
She thought back to the painting and closed her eyes, relaying the image over what she was seeing in reality, seeing the similarities and the differences. It was almost exactly the same, as though Javier had managed to peer beyond the veil of space and time and see into East Pender. Although there was one difference -- there was a mailbox to the right, which wasn't in Javier's painting.
Drawn by her instinct, Ellen walked toward the mailbox with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, looking around for any sign of someone watching her, but of course there was not. She came to the mailbox and saw there was another note taped to the back. She ripped it off and took it straight home, calling Andy as she did so.
When Andy arrived Ellen was just getting out of the shower. The note was sitting unopened on the table.
“You haven't read it yet?” he asked in a surprised tone.
“We're working the case together,” she said.
Andy walked over to the table and tore open the note. He read it, shook his head, and then threw it toward Ellen. The note twisted in the air and landed just in front of her.
“I can't deal with these things. They're too obtuse for me,” Andy said, frustrated.
“I thought you would have liked these sorts of things. You must have had more than a few things like this show up, especially in the city with all those crazy people.”
“I did, and I still hated them then. Luckily then I had a whole department and specialists to take care of them. Now I only have, well, you.”
“You always say the sweetest things,” Ellen said, batting her eyes. Andy laughed.
“But still, I really don't like these things. What I need is evidence, and from that I can work through the case in a logical progression.”
“So let's do that,” she said, and placed the note, still unread, back on the table.
“You don't even want to read it?” he asked incredulously.
“Of course I do, but let's try using some logic first, see if we can't put some kind of method to this madness.” They pulled out chairs and sat opposite each other.
“Whomever is writing these notes thinks of themselves as a romantic, a poet. They think that this is destined to be,” Ellen said.
“And so far all they've done is steal a clock, then returned it. They haven't even been leaving these notes in Kelly's home. Are you sure we're not just making more of this than it is? It's probably some sad lonely person living out a fantasy.”
“They stole a picture.”
“What?”
“From the wedding. There was a picture of me and Kelly by the presents. It was gone.”
“Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“I didn't even think of it until now...there's clearly an obsession with Kelly at work here. It can only be a matter of time before it turns dangerous and we have to figure out who is writing these letters before it gets to that stage.”
“Are you sure you don't want to tell Kelly? I think she'd want to know,” Andy said, his tone concerned.
“I'm sure she would, but no. Let's just let her live as normal a life as possible. She'll be going on her ho
neymoon soon and she shouldn't have to worry about anything else. We can work it out before it ever gets to that stage.”
“I'm glad one of us has faith. I think it's time to read this clue,” Andy said.
He pushed it toward Ellen, who reached out and opened it. She puffed out her cheeks as she read the words. Again there were just a few lines written on the paper. Ellen read it aloud to Andy, who had a thoughtful look on his face.
'In our salute to freedom I place a symbol to you, for I shall never be free of my longing, of my love. The gift has already been given.'
For a few moments after she had read the clue, the two of them sat in silence. Andy's finger tapped absently on the table while the clock ticked loudly in the background.
“What gift? Is he talking about the clock, or the other riddles?” Andy asked aloud.
Ellen stared at the riddle and left his question unanswered for her mind was locked into finding a solution. While Andy found the exercise wholly frustrating Ellen relished the intellectual challenge. She threw all her effort into solving the riddle, and soon she was exclaiming in triumph.
“What is it?” Andy said. He still had a blank look on his face and couldn't fathom how Ellen had solved it so quickly.
“We have to go to the park. The gift was the flowers left by the wedding presents, and 'our salute to freedom' is the park! We have to find those same flowers in Freedom Park.”
Ellen quickly threw on some clothes, for she had been sitting in a towel. While he waited, Andy looked down at the riddle and raised his eyebrows, impressed at Ellen's skill.
They quickly made their way to the park, the scene of Kelly's wedding. There were a few people around but it was still rather early so the park was quiet. Andy was looking around warily, searching for any sign of suspicious behavior.
“I really hate that we don't have any information about this person. It could be anyone,” he said.
“The longer this goes on the more chance we'll have of finding out. This whole thing is going to end with them revealing themselves. That is the point of the game, after all, for Kelly to find out and go to them,” Ellen said.
“I wonder if they even know that she hasn't found any of their clues, that all they've been doing is writing to us?”
“I hope not. If they think anyone is interfering...these are personal, they're supposed to be for Kelly's eyes only. The way this person's mind works, they probably don't even think anyone else but Kelly could understand what's going on.”
The concrete path curled around a fountain and split off into a variety of directions. They took the northeast fork and followed it until they reached the clearing where Kelly's wedding had been set. Even though it only had been about a week ago it still seemed as though it was a long time ago. Ellen still smiled when she thought of how beautiful Kelly had been, and how happy she had looked when she joined Matthew up at the altar. Now the place looked barren and the only remnants of the day were in the memories of those who had attended, but that was the way of life, she surmised.
“Over here,” Andy said, pointing to a flower bed at the edge of the clearing.
Beyond that stood an array of trees, but they didn't make it that far. As they approached the flowerbed they noticed that much of it was scorched. Ellen gasped. Andy moved closer, urging her to stay back while he inspected the scene. The flowers had been robbed of their life. The heads were blackened and charred, creating the pattern of a heart. The ground was ashen and devoid of life now. Nothing would grow there again.
Whatever kind of love this mystery person thought he had for Kelly, it was destructive. It saddened Ellen to see the flowers treated in such a way, and it made her wonder what other lengths this man would go to if he was unsuccessful in his pursuit of Kelly.
“Look at this,” Andy said.
While Ellen still was busy looking at the bed of burned flowers, he walked through the heart-shape to the other side, where something was hanging off a branch. It was a note hanging from a piece of ribbon, something else that had been present at the wedding.
“Doesn't it seem strange to you that they're only starting this now, after the wedding?” he said as he made his way back to Ellen and handed her the note.
“I guess they think they have to try now or it'll be too late.”
“Surely it's already too late,” Andy mused.
“It's also a shame that Kelly invited everyone in town to the wedding. It hardly narrows down the suspect list.”
Ellen would have agreed, but she was busy reading the latest clue to herself. As she read it, her eyes widened.
“Oh no,” she said as she finished reading it.
“What does it say?” Andy asked, moving closer toward her.
Ellen turned and handed the note to him, not wanting to look at it again. Andy took it from her, wondering what was so bad. Then he read it himself and his expression changed in a similar manner.
'You have betrayed me once so don't fool me twice. You are my flower, and love is never forever. We are almost at the end. Do you know who I am yet?'
“This does not bode well,” Andy said.
“If he thinks Kelly is his flower...” Ellen said, unable to finish her thought.
Instead she just looked at the destroyed flowers in front of her and she realized that perhaps now was the time to tell her friend just what was going on.
Chapter 5
Kelly was humming to herself as she wandered around town. The day was fresh and there was something in the air, or perhaps it was just her new state of life that had changed the way she looked at things. For a long time, she had been plagued with feelings of self-loathing for she had kept a secret from everyone closest to her. Yet now she was free and her soul was soaring. On top of that, she was married to the most wonderful man she ever had known and whenever she thought of him, which was often, a smile played upon her lips. It was not just her marriage that had benefited her, however. Mentoring Mickey had given her a new lease on life and reinvigorated her artistic side.
For a long time now she had been indulging herself by painting whatever she liked, when she liked. Since she had financial security from her lottery winnings in her youth, she never had any pressure actually to push herself. She lived a life of whimsy. Yet now, with Mickey's future in her hands, she felt the responsibility, and rather than being a burden it gave her a renewed sense of purpose. She enjoyed teaching him and offering her wisdom. And when he asked her questions it forced her to look at things in a new way. It made her rediscover her passion and she was only sorry that she hadn't done it a long time ago.
Mickey seemed to enjoy it as well and she was confident that it was having a positive effect on him. When they first had started he was shy and quiet, and she had to force the conversation, but since they had spent more time together he was growing more confident and she enjoyed his company. Although most of their conversations revolved around art she did find that he opened up to her about how lonely he felt. She pitied him in a way, for she knew what it was like to not fit in. But she hadn't been lying when she told him that he had genuine talent and she hoped it would carry him far.
Although she loved East Pender she could tell he was meant for greater things, and he was going to be a better artist than she ever could be. Whenever she told him this he denied it, for he did not have much in the way of self-confidence, but she could see it. The greatest tragedy would be him not making a living from painting, and not sharing his talent with the world.
While she had this on her mind people chatted with her and she still was enjoying the good feelings the wedding had engendered. When she decided to invite everyone she did have second thoughts since, well, it wasn't as though everyone had been friendly with her in the past. Yet now she was glad she did and hoped that she could prove as popular as Ellen, who seemed to make friends easily and never had a problem with drawing unwanted romantic interest.
However, as she walked through town she spotted Bob up ahead and her pace stalled. For a moment sh
e considered ducking into a store or crossing to the other side of the street, before chastising herself. She couldn't be concerned with matters like that. She had explained her position to Bob and there was no use making the situation more awkward by avoiding him. So instead, she resumed her stride and greeted him with a smile. Bob merely nodded at her and didn't say anything. He carried on walking even though she was about to stop and talk with him.
“You know, we still can be friends,” she said. Bob stopped and spun on his heels, turning back to face her.
“I don't need any friends. I have enough friends. We had something good going, Kelly. Then you had to ruin it. It's better if we just leave it now,” he said and stormed away, leaving Kelly with a confused look on her face. A few people turned and stared at her but they soon moved away.
He looked at her, watched her walk with such grace. Everyone seemed to move for her as though she were Moses parting the Red Sea. None of them were worthy to be in her presence. She was a queen, and they all should be bowing to her. It frustrated him to think that none of them properly could see her greatness. Recently, of course, there had been a tribute to her, a celebration of her, but it wasn't enough. Only he could worship her properly and give her the appropriate amount of attention. Only he could love her in the right way.
Everything was going as he had planned. His mind was alive with new hints and clues that would lead her to him. It was a private game and they both would win, and nobody else would understand what was happening. Nobody else could understand. It was still torture seeing her with him, seeing her believe she was happy, but soon she would realize that it was a lie, that she only could be happy with him.
The time was drawing near. Yes, soon they would be together and everything would be right with the world. Destiny took its time but it was worth the wait, even though there was nothing more he would have liked than to have walked up to her now. No, patience, he had to be strong, had to wait for the perfect moment, the moment that his life had been building toward. He smiled in anticipation.