Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  “But I was about to bail on the relationship.”

  “You know that, and a few of your friends know that. But John’s parents still think of you as their son’s beloved girlfriend. I know you are kind enough to put aside your own feelings and play that part for the day. Let his parents go on believing their son had a woman who cherished him on the day he died.”

  “I did cherish him,” Alexa whispered. “I just didn’t want . . .”

  “I know, Lexie. Your grief for John is real. That’s enough for today. Starting tomorrow, you can come to terms with the awful fact that this man was killed before you could let him know how you truly felt. I hope you can come to accept that not knowing might have been better for John.”

  Alexa managed to get through the funeral without totally losing it. Both his parents and friends treated Alexa as John’s girlfriend. The minister and several of the people who spoke at the service, among them the state police commissioner and John’s former partner, Corporal Branche, included her name among those close to John and most affected by his loss. However, Alexa was glad state police protocol dictated John’s mother receive the flag draped over his coffin. As a trooper killed in the line of duty, John’s funeral was a military-style event. Nearly a thousand uniformed troopers and policemen from Pennsylvania and other states attended to show their support for a fallen comrade.

  Alexa held it together throughout the poignant funeral but broke down at the sight of the riderless horse, empty boots turned backward in the stirrups. She continued to sob in grief and guilt while bagpipers played “Amazing Grace.”

  After the graveside service and twenty-one gun salute, John’s parents invited everyone to a brunch at a huge community social hall. Feeling like a fraud, Alexa stayed for three hours, accepting condolences and hearing people share their memories of John. At the end of the event, Alexa hugged Mr. and Mrs. Taylor and stumbled to the car, exhausted.

  “Do you want me to drive, Mom?”

  “No. It’s nice to drive the Range Rover again. That little Mercedes we have in Italy is like driving a roller skate compared to this baby. Why don’t you take a nap? You handled yourself well, Lexie. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  “No, but it was the right thing to do. For John. I will miss him. The service was wonderful. He deserved all the pomp and circumstance. But he didn’t deserve to die.” Tears ran down Alexa’s cheeks as she mourned the man who had given her his heart.

  On Monday morning, Susan flew back to Italy, and Alexa tried to pick up the pieces of her life. She plunged back into work, bringing paperwork home each night to read until she tumbled into bed, exhausted. Scout wandered around the house, trying to get her attention. When she looked at the dog’s sad face, she imagined he missed John.

  On Saturday, Jim and Melissa came by to check on Alexa as she lounged on the deck, trying to read a book. Scout welcomed little Ansel, letting the frisky puppy chase him around the yard.

  Jim brought news of the investigation into John’s death. “They took two guys into custody in Oklahoma last night. Cannon called to tell me about it. I said I’d fill you in.”

  “Who are they?” Alexa forced an interest, wondering why it mattered. Arresting these men wouldn’t bring John back.

  “Their last names are Hudspeth and Poole. They work for a surveying company based in Texas. The Oklahoma Highway Patrol flagged the truck based on the three digits on the license plate and the fact that it was a white utility vehicle. The damage to the truck had been repaired. And it had magnetic signs on the side with the name of the company ERM. Stands for . . .” Jim looked at Melissa when he couldn’t remember.

  “Earth Resources Mapping.”

  Rousing from her lethargy, Alexa asked, “Are they the ones that want to drill in Michaux? What kind of company hires guys who kill cops?”

  Jim shook his head. “This is where it gets complicated. Who knows if they’re lying or not. But ERM told the police they don’t know anything about why these two employees were in Michaux. The surveyors apparently work shale fields all over the country. They were up in Northern Pennsylvania for three weeks doing seismic studies. According the company, they assumed the men had returned home to Oklahoma at the end of their assignment, almost two weeks ago. The men were due a ten-day break between assignments. When the highway patrol caught them, Hudspeth and Poole were heading toward their next project in North Dakota.”

  “Cannon said these two could have been moonlighting, using the ERM equipment,” Melissa added.

  Jim sneered. “At this point, Hudspeth and Poole aren’t talking. So, if they were doing something off the books, we don’t know who they were working for. The assignment in Northern Pennsylvania was for Radiant Energy.”

  “A solar company?” Alexa asked in disbelief.

  “You would think, right? Radiant is another natural gas company. Radiant officials say they know nothing about Hudspeth and Poole’s activities after they left Warren County.”

  “If these two were just hired hands, why would they kill John?” Alexa’s tone expressed her confusion.

  “These guys are pretty rough. They’ve put in years in the oilfields and natural gas operations. Both of them have records for assault, robbery, and a laundry list of other offenses. Neither one is a geologist. They do the grunt work to set up testing. Someone with skills, higher on the food chain, does the analysis.” Jim paced back and forth.

  Melissa interjected. “They must have known what they were doing in Michaux was illegal. They panicked.”

  “I’m sure the cops will continue to press these two for answers.” Jim sat down. “Cannon said they plan to start extradition proceedings to get them back to Pennsylvania. The driver will be charged with homicide of a law enforcement officer. I’m not sure about the other guy, but no way he’ll walk.”

  “Good,” Alexa replied. “I hope they roll over on the people who hired them. Those anonymous people might not have driven the vehicle, but they’re responsible for the illegal activity that created the entire situation.”

  “Trust me. From listening to Cannon, I don’t think the state police are going to rest until they track down everyone involved.”

  When Melissa and Jim left, Alexa tried to get back into her book. But her thoughts kept drifting from the page. When she had to re-read a paragraph three times to figure out how the character had gotten from the Bronx to Scotland, Alexa threw the book down in disgust. She loved to read, but today she just couldn’t concentrate.

  Leaving Scout napping outside, Alexa walked into the kitchen for a soda. “I can’t believe it,” she muttered, shuffling bottles aside in the refrigerator, looking for a soda. “I really wanted a Coke.” Finding a bottle behind a half-gallon of milk, Alexa pulled out a soft drink. Closing the door behind her, Alexa saw she’d grabbed a birch beer, not a Coca-Cola. Birch beer, John’s favorite. Clutching the cold bottle against her chest, Alexa burst into tears and staggered back against the fridge. She slid down the face of the refrigerator until she collapsed on the floor, sobbing. Alexa remembered the day she and John had begun their romance. It had been his childlike enthusiasm about birch beer that had charmed her into taking a chance on him. Her tears dried, and she smiled as she relived that first, birch beer-infused kiss.

  Alexa raised the bottle of birch beer in a toast and whispered to the empty kitchen, “I’ll miss you, John. That old line about the good dying young sure applies to you. I just wish I could have loved you more.” She took a sip of the beverage and let out a long, tremulous sigh. When she unfolded her body from the kitchen floor, she felt just a little lighter―like she had begun to make peace with what had happened.

  On Sunday, Alexa got up early and drove to the Kings Gap Environmental Center to hike the Kings Gap Hollow Trail. She and Scout walked alone for hours, but she found it difficult to escape memories of John.

  Only at the end of the hike, when Alexa and the mastiff neared the parking area, did they meet other hikers. Two tall young men, dressed in black sweatshirts,
rounded a blind curve on the trail ahead. Alexa’s heart pounded as she pulled Scout’s leash tighter. She remembered the last time she’d been alone and encountered two men in the forest at the Grand Canyon. She’d convinced herself that those Monongas employees had no sinister intent―that she’d overreacted. But, here she was, tensing again at the sight of two men. When they picked up their pace, she prepared to flee. At least this time she had her mastiff for protection.

  The black-clad men were less than five feet away when a group of teenagers in high spirits flooded the trail behind them.

  “Tim. Jared. Wait for us,” the kids called.

  One of the men in black yelled, “Look at this huge dog.”

  His companion asked, “Can we pet him, ma’am? Or is he mean?”

  When Alexa saw the two up close, she realized they were just teenagers. Their black sweatshirts were emblazoned with the words, The Rock, superimposed over a cross. At first Alexa thought the words referred to a local rock and roll radio station. Then it hit her that this was a church group and the rock and cross were religious references.

  “Sure, you can pet him. Just be gentle.” Alexa kicked herself for overreacting yet again―this time to two fifteen-year-olds. She had to stop jumping every time she came across men on the trail. Spanky Fulton was in jail. It was ridiculous to think everyone else was in on some elaborate plot to harm her.

  Before the other kids reached Alexa and Scout, two adults bringing up the rear yelled, “Keep moving, group. Let the lady and her dog walk through.”

  When Alexa passed the adults, the woman in khaki pants smiled. “I apologize for all the noise. It’s hard to contain fifteen teenagers.”

  “They’ll be a lot quieter by the time they reach the summit,” Alexa replied. “It’s a great day for a hike.”

  “God’s creation in all its glory,” said the man, who wore a minister’s collar beneath his black windbreaker. He edged toward the side of the path away from Scout. “God bless you both.” Safely past, he turned back to observe, “I’ve never seen a dog that big.”

  The encounter with the church group left Alexa in a contemplative mood as she drove back to the cabin. It would be so nice to believe God had a plan for all of his or her creation. But Alexa had seen too much wanton death. She couldn’t imagine a deity who would design a plan in which some goon would run over a good man like John Taylor. Or a kid like Lauren would drown in the Susquehanna. Or a respected state senator would be tossed from a balcony like a sack of grain.

  As if sensing her distress, Scout draped his head over her shoulder.

  Alexa had just arrived back at the cabin when Tyrell’s car came driving down the lane. She unlocked the cabin door and turned to wait for her friend.

  Tyrell unfolded his long lean frame from the car and glided up the stairs. Since they had become friends, Alexa no longer became awestruck by the man’s beauty. However, she still regarded the effect of his spiraled dreadlocks and look-at-me confidence as something to behold.

  He kissed Alexa on the cheek. “I wanted to check in. See how you’re doing.”

  She dodged the question. “Every time I see you in that Ford Flex, I think I’ve dropped into an alternate universe. You should be driving a sports car, not a station wagon.”

  “Excuse me. It’s an SUV. Plus it’s got three rows of seats so I can ferry around kids from my youth group. It also comes in handy for trucking people and supplies to RESIST events. They didn’t tell me advocacy work would involve hauling so much stuff around. Remember, just a few months ago I relied on a county child welfare car for business and rode a bicycle the rest of the time. This baby is a step up.”

  “You’re right. And, the,” she paused for emphasis, “SUV has a certain square but ugly beauty.” Alexa smiled. “Have you had lunch? Scout and I have been for a long hike. I was about to heat up some chili.”

  “Sounds good. I came here straight from Sunday services.”

  “That explains the fancy clothes. You don’t want to get chili on that white shirt. Do you want to change into a t-shirt? John’s got a few here. He wouldn’t mind if you . . .” Alexa trailed off, aghast.

  Tyrell put an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, it’s natural to have lapses like that. When my Gran passed, it took me months. I’d be at work and think, ‘I’ve got to tell Gran about this or that.’ John’s been gone less than a month.”

  “You’re right.” Alexa walked into the house.

  Tyrell followed her through the door. “I will accept your offer of a t-shirt, though.”

  “I’ll bring them all. You can take them with you for RESIST. Just let me get this chili on the stove, then I’ll run upstairs for the shirts.”

  They had lunch out on the deck, Tyrell in a navy blue tee that hung loose on his lean frame. “You haven’t been to yoga in two weeks.” He stated it as a fact, not an accusation.

  “John’s death has knocked me for a loop. I’ve been concentrating on work and not much else. Today, I knew I had to get out and do something. But I’m exhausted after our hike.” Alexa took a bite of chili, even though she had little appetite.

  “It’s hard to lose someone close. And you’re dealing with the added burden of a rocky relationship with the guy.”

  Alexa looked up in surprise.

  “It was no secret,” Tyrell replied. “It was clear there was trouble in paradise―at least for those of us who know you well. I could see you jump out of your skin every time he called you sugarcakes. You’ve never really struck me as a sugarcakes type of woman.”

  “You’re right. I was getting ready to break up with John. Then he goes and gets himself killed. If he had lived, we’d have parted ways by now. Instead, everyone is treating me like his ersatz widow. I feel like a fraud. I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, but I am mourning his death.”

  “You need to get off the guilt train. It’s not your fault some maniac killed John. The dude picked a dangerous line of work and knew the risks. Hell, he worked homicide.”

  “I know that.”

  “Well, I’m not about to lay a rap on you about how everything happens for a reason. Half the shit that happens is totally without reason.” Tyrell leaned forward. “But the man died loving you. And when he died, you didn’t love him. That’s a fact. It’s not going to change. You can’t let it rule your life.”

  “Is this how you counseled families and kids in foster care when you were with Children and Youth?” Alexa laughed. “What do you call this technique? Tough love?”

  “I call it telling it like it is. Life happens. Deal with it and move on.” Tyrell waved a hand to emphasize his point.

  “OK. So what’s new with you?” Alexa pushed her chili away, surprised she’d eaten almost an entire bowl.

  “I’m off to India this summer on a trip to visit the RESIST centers in the north. I really enjoy seeing the progress we’re making with retraining these women for new occupations. They just bloom when they’re rescued from sex trafficking. India is such an over-the-top country, but I love it. Sensory overload for sure.”

  “This new job suits you. Moving from being a sometime supporter and volunteer to full-time advocate is a big transition.”

  “It’s good to make a difference.” Tyrell smiled. “I hear you’ve taken up a new cause.”

  Alexa gave him a puzzled look. “New cause?”

  “Fracking. I know Jim and John were looking into some illegal fracking activity when John died. But Melissa tells me you’ve taken a broader interest in the issue. Something involving an old friend?”

  “One of my college roommates has a child who’s fighting a rare form of brain cancer. The family believes it’s related to a fracking operation on their farm.”

  “Whoa. What a nightmare. Then I guess you’re going to that rally next Saturday?”

  “Rally?”

  “A bunch of environmental groups are demonstrating against this legislation that’s going to open up fracking on state lands. I figured you’d be there to fight back agains
t the bastards that killed John.”

  Alexa straightened in her seat. “Maybe I will go. I’ll call Darby Kaplan at the Wildness Cooperative and find out the details. If it’s not stopped, they could be drilling right out there.” Alexa pointed to the ridge behind her cabin.

  “You go, girl. Find something important to focus all that emotion on. Find out that your problems ‘don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.’”

  “Casablanca? You’re channeling Humphrey Bogart now?”

  “I am, Elsa.” Tyrell laughed.

  By the time he left, Alexa had decided that Tyrell had offered good advice. She needed to do something tangible to honor John―and advocating against fracking could be it.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  September 16, 1979

  Nuclear power is not healthy for children and other living things.

  ―Popular anti-nuke poster

  “Not another trip out of town? My God, Will. You’re never home. You spend most evenings and weekends doing whatever it is you do with that bunch of crackpots and weirdos, Three Mile Island Alert.” Randi’s tone was bitter.

  “We take samples for radiation. We’re monitoring people’s health. Even though the state and the feds are saying no one was harmed by TMI, we know radiation was released into the air. There can be short-term and long-term consequences. And someone needs to stay on top of that. The NRC doesn’t care. It’s just going full steam ahead, authorizing new plants. I hear they might even approve TMI to operate Unit 1―despite the millions of dollars they’re spending to clean up Unit 2.” Will gripped the back of the chair as his tone became more vehement.

  Fussing in his baby seat, Walden waved his arms and whimpered. Will calmed down and handed his son the stuffed bear he’d dropped on the table. “When’s Walden’s next doctor’s appointment? I want to make sure they check him for any radiation effects.”

  “His appointment is in a few weeks, a six month check-up. Probably while you’re gone.” Randi paused. “You know, I get the TMI Alert stuff you’re doing. I know you want to help after everything we went through with TMI. But I don’t get the trips out of town. That protest on Long Island at the power plant.”