by J A Whiting
A little boy emerged from the house. He was about five years old with dark blonde hair. He was dressed in shorts and a Red Sox t-shirt and he carried a huge dish overflowing with dog food. The German shepherd sat erect at the bottom of the steps, his tail wagging. The boy put the dish down in front of the dog.
“Okay, eat,” he told the dog, and the shepherd lunged at the dish and started devouring the meal. The little boy squatted beside the dog, patting his side. He looked up and turned his head in Olivia’s direction. His eyes met hers. He raised his hand and waved. “Are you Olivia?” he asked.
Olivia’s eyes widened. She nodded. “Who are you?”
“I’m Mikey. Why are you standing there?” he asked.
She shrugged. Mikey kept patting the dog.
“Joe’s in the house,” he said.
Olivia stepped out from behind the trees and took two steps towards Mikey, but stopped and glanced at the dog as it looked up at her.
“It’s okay,” Mikey told the dog, and the dog went back to eating. “He won’t bite,” Mikey said to Olivia. “He listens to me. If I say you’re okay, he won’t do anything. He’s good.”
“Is Joe alright? Can I go in?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t he be alright?”
Olivia looked at the back door. “What’s he doing in there?”
Mikey was still patting the dog. “Making me a sandwich.”
The back door opened and Joe came out carrying a tray with a glass of milk and a plate with a sandwich on it. Joe smiled when he saw Olivia standing there. “Liv, why don’t you answer your phone?”
Olivia pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen: Missed call.
“What’s…all this?” she asked, gesturing at the boy and the dog.
“I called you from the house phone. I can’t find my cell. This is Mikey…Mikey Sullivan. And that’s… Lassie.” Joe smiled as he set the food on the deck’s patio table.
Mikey climbed the stairs and plopped into one of the chairs. He dug into the sandwich, mumbling, “I know Lassie’s a girl’s name, but he likes it. Dog’s are particular about what they like.” He nodded to the dog as it climbed the stairs and took its position next to Mikey.
“How did you two come to meet?” Olivia asked Joe. She was on the deck now too. She reached down and patted Lassie behind the ears. Mikey took a big gulp of milk.
Mikey answered before Joe had a chance. “I found Joe in the woods,” he managed between swallows.
“Scared the sh…ah…crap out of me, too, I might add,” Joe said. “The two of them came up behind me. Like two ghosts…didn’t make a sound until they were right beside me. I almost had a stroke,” Joe said.
“Oh!” Olivia said. “I need to text Brad. We were frantic when we couldn’t find you,” she told Joe. “What were you doing in the woods?” Olivia asked Mikey while she sent a text to Brad.
“Waiting,” Mikey said.
“Waiting for what?” Olivia asked.
“Mom to come back,” he said.
Olivia exchanged glances with Joe. “Where is she?” she asked Mikey.
Mikey shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Since the other night,” Mikey said, continuing the attack on the sandwich.
“So you’ve been here alone?”
“No. Lassie’s with me. And we were only here for a little while. We’ve been in the woods. At the camp.”
Olivia looked at Joe for clarification.
“Mikey and his dad built a camp in the woods back there.” Joe gestured to the land behind the Sullivan’s house. “Mikey took me there so I could see it. He and his dad stayed there together, camping out some nights. Seems they own quite a bit of the land back there. Mikey and Lassie were hungry so they came back to the house. That’s when we met,” Joe said.
“Dad called and told us to run away,” Mikey said. “Mom said stay with Lassie at the camp. She said she’d come back as fast as she could.”
“Did your mom say to stay away from the house?” Olivia asked.
Mikey nodded. “Yup. But we got hungry. And we got tired of waiting.”
“Were you watching us from the upstairs window when we were here earlier?”
“Yup. I went in the house to change my shorts.”
“Was it day or night when Mom told you to stay at the camp?”
“Almost night…it was after supper,” Mikey said. “Dad called when we were eating. He said he was hurt. Mom said we had to go and stay at the camp. So we took pillows and blankets and walked there. But mom forgot her phone in the house. She went back to get it. She didn’t come back. Lassie and me slept in the camp last night. I think mom went to get dad.”
“So you and Lassie slept at the camp last night. Alone,” Olivia asked.
Mikey nodded.
“How old are you?” Olivia asked.
“Five, going on six. My birthday’s coming.” Mikey turned to Joe. “Joe, can I have another?” The sandwich was gone, crust and all.
“Sure, come on.” Joe, Olivia, and Mikey went into the kitchen. “You want one, Liv?” Joe asked as he prepared to make another sandwich.
“No, thanks,” she answered.
“I called the police,” Joe lowered his voice. “Reported that our friend is alone here. They’ll be along shortly.”
Olivia nodded. “Good.”
Lassie stayed on the deck, snoozing. Mikey sat at the kitchen table while Joe put some mustard on two slices of bread. Olivia started to clear the dirty dishes, but put down the glass and plate she had picked up. The thought crossed her mind that this could be a crime scene and she wondered if they had compromised any evidence by coming into the kitchen. “Joe? Do you think we should be moving things around in here? Touching stuff?”
Before Joe could answer, Lassie started growling outside, a low guttural sound that came from deep in his throat.
“It must be Brad coming,” Olivia said.
“Or the police,” Joe offered.
Mikey went to the back door and spoke to Lassie through the screen. “Stop, it’s okay.” The dog ignored him and bolted off the deck. It stood in the driveway barking. Olivia looked through the screen door over Mikey’s head. The dog was stiff legged, growling, with eyes fixed down the driveway. The scruff on its neck and back was raised. The dog wasn’t paying any attention to Mikey.
Mikey reached for the doorknob, but Olivia put her hand over his to stop him from opening the door. Mikey looked up at Olivia. She put her finger to her mouth and whispered. “Shh. Stay in here with Joe.” She tiptoed through the kitchen.
“Joe,” Olivia said, and pointed to the side of the house as she passed him on the way to look out the window of the dining room. Joe watched Olivia enter the dining room which was on the side of the house near the driveway. He started to put down the knife that he was using to make the sandwich, but changed his mind and held onto it instead. He waved at Mikey to come over to him.
Olivia hugged the wall as she made her way to the window. Still hugging the wall, she peered out from behind the curtain. She gasped and pinned herself flat against the wall. Her hands went clammy and sweat trickled down her back. Her heart struck her chest like a jack hammer. It was the man from the accident scene. The guy who had appeared out of nowhere that night. He was coming down the Sullivan’s driveway. His head was slowly turning from side to side, surveying the area while keeping the growling dog in his peripheral vision.
Olivia crept to the kitchen. She put her finger to her lips again to warn Joe and Mikey not to talk. She waved them closer to her. She leaned to Joe’s ear. “It’s the guy from the accident. The one who scared me to death. He’s walking down the driveway.” Olivia’s face was pale. “Where the hell are the cops?”
Joe leaned down to Mikey and whispered, “Where’s the door to the basement?”
Mikey pointed to the front room.
“Is there a door in the basement that goes out to the yard?”
Mikey nodded.
Joe pointed to the front room of the house. He put his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and moved him along. “Stay quiet. Don’t talk.”
The three of them inched into the dining room on their way to the front living room, pausing before passing the side windows that faced the driveway. Lassie had advanced and was threatening the man with deep snarls and snaps. The man stopped. He was glaring at the dog.
“Joe,” Mikey said. “What’s that?”
Joe and Olivia looked at the dining table where Mikey’s hand pointed.
Olivia stomach lurched and she sucked in a gasp of air. She clamped her eyes shut. Joe pulled Mikey around and hugged him away from the sight.
In the middle of the dining table was a severed finger, the fingernail polished light pink, a bit of blood and bone visible at the end. The finger had been placed on a small, china saucer.
“Let’s get to the basement,” Joe whispered, his face white, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat.
“I’m not leaving Lassie,” Mikey said. His arms folded over his chest.
Olivia, shaking, bent to Mikey’s ear. “Lassie can handle this guy, Mikey. But we can’t. He’s bad.” Mikey gave Olivia a stern look. Olivia continued, “Lassie’s helping us. I’m not kidding. This guy wants to hurt us. Lassie’s helping us get away. I promise we’ll come back for your dog.”
The man in the driveway reached into his pocket for something.
“Come on,” Joe grabbed Mikey’s arm and directed him to the door that led to the basement. He tried the knob but it was locked. Cursing, Joe fumbled with the bolt and pushed against the door. It wouldn’t budge.
Through the side window, Olivia could see the man in the driveway. He had his cell phone to his ear. He was backing up. He wheeled and jogged to his car.
“Joe,” Olivia said. “He’s leaving.” She hunched over and went to the picture window. “He’s back in the car. He’s driving away.” She straightened. “He’s gone.”
“We need to move. Now.” Joe scooped Mikey into his arms. “Get the door,” he said to Olivia.
Olivia unlocked the front door of the house and held it open for Joe and Mikey. They ran for the side of the property that was away from the driveway. Joe carried Mikey in his arms. They hustled to the tree line, where they took cover. Joe put Mikey down and, breathing hard, bent over at the waist, sucking in air.
“Joe, are you okay?” Olivia asked, taking his arm.
He nodded, puffing, his eyes closed. He lay down on the pine needles covering the ground.
“Joe…” Olivia’s eyes were wide with worry.
“I just need to rest.” Joe’s voice was weak. Olivia crouched beside him.
She pulled out her phone to call Brad. He answered right away.
“I saw the guy. I pulled over up the road so I couldn’t be seen. I saw him drive away. I saw you run. I’m coming.”
“Brad’s coming,” Olivia said. “Joe?” She touched his face.
“I’m okay. Too much excitement for me, that’s all.” He was still lying on the ground with his eyes shut, but his breathing was less labored. Mikey stood over him weeping. Olivia reached up and tugged on Mikey’s arm to have him kneel beside her.
Brad pulled his car to the side of the road and lowered his window.
“Come on, get in, in case he comes back,” Brad said. “Where’s Joe?” Brad saw Mikey. “Who’s this?”
Mikey turned to Olivia. “Lassie ran behind the house.” Olivia nodded.
“Joe, come on. Brad’s here. Can you get up?” Olivia asked.
Brad opened the car door and got out in a hurry. “What’s wrong with Joe?”
Olivia answered, “He just got winded. I’m going to get the dog.”
“There’s a dog?” Brad questioned. He bent to help Joe stand.
“Stay here, Mikey,” Olivia told him.
“No. Lassie won’t come to you,” Mikey said.
There wasn’t time to argue, so Olivia took Mikey’s hand and they crossed the grass back to the driveway. The dog was not in sight. Mikey whistled and Lassie came bounding from behind the house. He jumped and circled Mikey in a happy dance.
“Come on, we need to go,” Olivia said, but before they could head to Brad’s car, a police cruiser pulled into the driveway. Finally, Olivia thought.
Brad turned his car around and parked in front of the Sullivan’s house. Joe was sitting in the front passenger seat. He opened the car door but he didn’t get out. His face was ashen.
Two officers emerged from the cruiser. Olivia greeted them and pointed to Joe. One look at Joe and the cops summoned an ambulance.
The EMTs checked Joe’s heart rate and blood pressure and gave him some fluids. They suggested a ride to the hospital to double check everything but Joe flatly refused. By the time Olivia was finishing up talking with the officer, Joe had some color back in his face. The second officer had called the station to request a detective and some lab personnel in order to process the severed finger. He had gone into the house to gather preliminary information when ten minutes later he radioed his partner to send the EMTs into the house immediately. The rest of his message was garbled and Olivia couldn’t make out what he said but the other officer shot into the house ahead of the EMTs, his gun drawn.
Commotion ensued with the arrival of another squad car, two detectives in an unmarked vehicle, and a second ambulance. Olivia, Brad, and Joe stood next to Brad’s car watching the assemblage, the adults exchanging questioning looks. Mikey sat in front of them on the lawn patting Lassie.
“What’s going on?” Brad asked no one in particular.
Olivia strained to overhear what an officer was relaying back to headquarters. Her eyes widened. She leaned over to Joe and Brad. “Mike Sullivan’s in the basement,” she whispered. “He’s hurt. Unconscious but alive.”
“He was in the house this whole time?” Joe asked.
Emergency workers wheeled a stretcher towards the house.
Olivia turned her head to Brad and kept her voice low. “That guy who showed up…the guy in the driveway…he was the man at the accident scene.”
Brad stared at Olivia.
“Was he looking for Mike Sullivan? Did he know Sullivan was here” Olivia asked. Her voice was shaky.
Brad shrugged. “Who knows? What connection does that guy have with Sullivan?”
Olivia and Brad exchanged glances.
“Are you okay, Joe?” Olivia asked. Joe was sitting in the car again.
Joe nodded. “I’m fine.” His head was pressed against the seat headrest. “Just resting.”
Another police car arrived. A woman stepped from the backseat. Mikey spotted the woman and yelled, “Auntie!” He ran to her and they hugged. A detective spoke to the aunt.
One of the first officers to arrive returned to Olivia, Joe, and Brad and told them that they had no more questions for them but would most likely be contacting each one in a day or two.
“Is Mr. Sullivan going to be okay?” Olivia asked.
“The EMTs are taking care of him. They’ll be moving him to the hospital shortly,” the officer told her.
The three of them said goodbye to Mikey and climbed into Brad’s car for the drive home.
Brad looked into the rearview mirror at Olivia. His face was somber.
“What the hell happened back there?” Brad questioned.
Joe was still quiet, sitting with his eyes closed. Olivia filled Brad in on what had occurred at the house while he had been searching for Joe.
“Brad,” Olivia said. “That guy. The finger.” She shuddered. “Whose finger was it?”
“Good God. Who knows,” Brad managed. He looked pale. “Mrs. Sullivan’s?”
Olivia felt sick. “What if Mikey was there alone? When the guy showed up at the house,” Olivia said.
“Thank God he wasn’t.” Brad stared at the road.
“It was that awful man from the accident scene,” Olivia said. “What was he doing at the Sullivan’s? He
must have been looking for Mikey and his mom. Did he have something to do with Mike Sullivan’s accident?”
“Could he be working for Siderov?” Brad asked.
“Do you think so?” Olivia continued, “Where did Mrs. Sullivan go? She would never leave her child alone in the woods so long.” She swallowed. “Do you think she’s dead?”
Brad’s worried eyes held Olivia’s.
“What the hell is going on?”
They were quiet for the remainder of the ride home. When they arrived back in Ogunquit, they dragged themselves into Olivia’s house. Brad insisted on making dinner and cooked up some chicken for Joe and himself and made a veggie stir fry for Olivia. They devoured the food along with a bottle of white wine. Joe had perked up a little and was almost back to himself. There wasn’t much conversation, each one replaying the events that took place at the Sullivan house.
“What an awful day. I haven’t had that much excitement for years,” Joe said. “And I hope I don’t have any more excitement for many years to come.”
“We’re all exhausted,” Olivia said. “I hope Mike Sullivan pulls through.”
“He warned his family to run away,” Joe said. “Somehow he made it back to the house despite his injuries. But no one was there.”
“And the finger,” Brad said. “A warning to Sullivan? A threat?”
“The guy in the driveway,” Joe said. “What’s his connection to all this? He must be after Mike Sullivan.”
“This can’t be because Mike talked about the Siderov’s safe room,” Brad said. “Mike must have some connection to the guy from the accident. Could it be drug dealing?”
“I can’t believe that,” Joe told them. “Mike wasn’t tied up in something like drugs. I’d bet money on that. Has to be something else.”
“I’m going to call Detective Brown tomorrow,” Olivia said. “I want to be sure the Concord Police have informed him about what happened.”
“I better go check on the bookstore,” Brad said. He started to clear the dishes, but Olivia shooed him away. “You made the meal. I’ll clean up. Go ahead. Go check the store.”