The Leafing: the 2nd book in The Green Man series

by Sharon Brubaker

  Chapter 30

  “Life always offers you a second chance. Its called tomorrow.”

  - Unknown

  “Well,” Carol accosted Sylvia as she walked into the office the next morning? “Was it him?” she asked.

  Sylvia nodded.

  “You identified the killer?” Carol said, “Cool.”

  “Not cool,” Sylvia returned. “I don’t think he killed Joyce.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Carol.

  “Just a gut feeling,” Sylvia said. “I can’t explain it.”

  “You sound like Gibbs,” Carol said matter of factly.

  “You and Joe should get together,” Sylvia told her. “Birds of a feather…”

  “What?” Carol asked.

  “Joe said the same thing. I had never seen NCIS, well, maybe once before, but Joe referred to it as well. I think he’s hooked on the program,” Sylvia said.

  “Well, I am,” Carol told her. “I don’t want to miss an episode.”

  “I can see why,” Sylvia admitted. “I watched it last night and ended up watching three programs.”

  Carol nodded with satisfaction. “See,” she said, “I told you so.”

  Mr. Carter came in and she needed to repeat her story about identifying Kenny. She said again that she didn’t think he was the murderer.

  “So what happens now?” Carol asked, intrigued.

  “I don’t know,” Sylvia said, “but, they charged him with the murder,” she said sadly.

  “Wow,” Carol said quietly.

  “Serious stuff,” Mr. Carter said.

  Sylvia nodded and went into her office. Work was distracting and Mr. Carter called her to his office to go over the dates from the day before when she had cancelled the meeting. He was pleased with her calendar, but was concerned they were missing a large community gathering at a garden market on the first weekend in May.

  “I can’t attend that,” Sylvia reminded him. “I’m in one of my best friend’s wedding that day.”

  “Oh,” Mr. Carter said, “Perhaps Carol would like to cover it. I could take part of the day. We could ask for volunteers in the company as well.”

  “Okay,” Sylvia said. “I’ll make the contacts and send out an email for volunteers.”

  She knew her voice sounded weary. She didn’t mean it, but pulling together volunteers when she was going to be out of town, made her nervous. What if they didn’t show? Was it fair to ask Carol all the time? She tried to sigh quietly and left the office. Carol gave her a puzzled look when she came out of Mr. Carter’s office.

  “What’s up?” she asked Sylvia.

  Sylvia told her about the garden market on the first weekend in May.

  “I always attend that,” Carol said. “I would be happy to spend some time there. Maybe my Mom could volunteer as well. Do we get a discount?”

  Sylvia laughed. Carol could always pull her out of a sullen mood. “No discount that I know of, but I’ll check. I would be indebted to you if you would do this. Mr. Carter is going to volunteer some time as well.”

  “No problem,” Carol told her, “in fact, I’ll email Mom right now. She’ll be thrilled to get in on the early action of plant buying. You know, you can put it out in an email to the company, but I know some girls in accounting that would love to do this. Do you want me to email them as well? What do you think, four hour shifts? That way they can work and shop at the garden market.”

  “Geez, Carol, one, you’re an angel,” Sylvia told her, “but, now I’m wishing I could be at the market as well.”

  “It’s very cool,” Carol said, “and a tradition for the community for years and years. I think this is a good thing for Thurmont.”

  Sylvia gave her a hug. “This is great,” she said again. “Is it time for lunch?”

  Carol laughed, “Almost. Go and do your email. Make calls to the Garden Market people. I’ll email the girls and then let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

  In under an hour they had completed their work. Laughing they told Mr. Carter they were getting out of Dodge and would see him in an hour. He waved at them, grinning. They returned just over an hour later, still laughing. Sylvia went into her office. She loved how Carol made her laugh. She logged onto her computer and accidentally pushed her mouse to the floor. Leaning over to pick up the mouse, Sylvia’s ring banged against her desk with a clink. Sylvia remembered the Green Man said the ‘ring of truth.’ Could he be referring to her ring and to dowsing for answers? On a hunch, she took off her necklace and held it between two fingers. She thought of a yes or no question to ‘test’ the dowsing session.

  “My name is Sylvia Anderson,” she thought. The ring on the end of the chain began to swing back and forth. Then, Sylvia realized what she had said. “Where in the hell did that come from?” she thought. Why would she give Owen’s last name? Appropriately, the ring swung back and forth in the ‘no’ position.

  She asked another question, “I live at Bayside.”

  The ring started out with a small circle and it grew to an ever widening one.

  She stopped the swinging ring and quietly, she said out loud, “Did Kenny kill Joyce?”

  The ring on the end started to move and the phone rang, startling her and she dropped the ring and chain before she could see the answer.

  “Drat!” Sylvia said, frustrated.

  She answered the phone. It was Tony.

  “Hi,” she said, “How are you?” her voice had a note of concern. Tony had not answered or returned a couple of phone calls or texts in the last couple of days.

  “Better,” he said. “Sorry for not getting back to you.”

  “It’s okay,” Sylvia said.

  “I’m not going to argue, but I don’t agree,” he told her. “I’m headed back to Jersey for a couple of weeks. Do you want to meet me for dinner somewhere?” he asked.

  “Umm, sure,” Sylvia answered, “I guess so.”

  “The pub?” he asked. “They have an upscale restaurant side.”

  “That would be great,” she said, wondering why his voice was so tight.

  “See you at 5:30?” he questioned, “I’m headed directly back to Jersey after dinner.”

  “Fine,” she said, “I’ll meet you there.”

  She hung up the phone. Sylvia was puzzled by his tone. She glanced at the clock on her computer and sighed. She had some things to complete for Mr. Carter before she left today. Caught up in her work, Sylvia next glanced up at the clock at 4:55.

  “Shit,” she said softly, now remembering Carol and Mr. Carter had said good-bye and she had blindly waved to them distractedly as she worked. Now she would be very late for Tony if she went home to walk Percy or Percy would be extremely unhappy if she made him wait until much later. She didn’t know how long his bladder would hold and she didn’t want accidents. In desperation she called Marian and Jon and begged nicely if they would walk Percy for her. It wasn’t a problem, but Sylvia felt guilty. She headed to North Bay as quickly as she could, but with the recent snowy weather, the dropping temperatures of the night and the usual commuter traffic, Sylvia was running late one of the few times in her life. It was even more evident when she saw Tony’s SUV parked outside the restaurant. Snow filled many parking spaces, so she drove to the public parking area in town to find a space and hurried as fast as she could to the restaurant.

  The town’s pub had two sections – a pub side and a restaurant side. Sylvia barely had a chance to say “good evening” before the hostess whisked her to the more formal restaurant side. Sylvia walked past men and couples at the bar. Several glanced her way with eyes first downcast, then defiantly looking straightforward, Sylvia stepped from the pub area to the restaurant side. Tony pushed back the heavy Spanish wooden chair and stood as the hostess led Sylvia to her seat. He hurried around and pulled out her chair. There was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne waiting. Tony and Sylvia were the only two people seated here. Soft candlelight played on the light mustard colored walls and large metal sculpture
s.

  Sylvia helped scooch herself into the table. She looked up at Tony as he sat down. The hostess had disappeared.

  “Hi,” she said, “sorry I was a little late.”

  “No problem,” he told her. “Have some champagne.”

  He popped the cork on a bottle of Dom Perignon and poured her a tall flute of the bubbly liquid.

  Puzzled, she looked at him and asked, “What are we celebrating?”

  He returned her look with a puzzled glance and said, “For resolving Joyce’s murder, of course,” he told her. “Kenny has been brought in and shortly will come to justice.”

  “And,” he continued, as he clinked her glass, “it’s all,” clink, “thanks,” clink, “to you.”

  It was Sylvia’s turn to look puzzled. “I don’t understand,” she told Tony. She watched as his eyes that were sparkly and somewhat happy turned darker. A puzzled look swept over his face.

  “What don’t you understand,” he asked.

  “Joyce’s murder resolved,” Sylvia said, “What it has to do with me,” she stated flatly.

  The waitress came to get their order, hovering near the table. Tony gave a short, exasperated sigh before he rattled off a couple of appetizers and told her to give them a few minutes with regard to ordering. He waved the waitress off as if she was annoying fly.

  “You,” Tony stated. “You identified Kenny. He has been read his rights and has been indicted for Joyce’s murder.”

  Sylvia could hardly look at Tony’s face. Poor man, she thought, he must want a quick end to all of this, but deep in her heart, Sylvia didn’t believe Kenny murdered Joyce!

  Sylvia swallowed some champagne. “Oh,” she said quietly, giving herself a moment to think of what to say next. Should she burst his bubble with her thoughts? Fortunately, the waitress and an assistant brought some appetizers to the table – shrimp LeJon; small spring rolls with a dipping sauce, and a smoked seafood sampler. The waitress waited for their order.

  “All right if I order for us?” he asked Sylvia. She nodded.

  Tony waved for her to begin on the appetizers. She made a few choices and savored each bite. How could she tell Tony that she didn’t think it was Kenny? It didn’t feel right to toast to the hope that someone, possibly innocent, would be incarcerated.

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked.

  Sylvia gulped a bit of champagne. “Tony…” she trailed off… “I don’t know if Kenny killed Joyce.”

  “What do you mean?” Tony demanded in a quiet tone that made her shiver inside deeply.

  “I, I…” she said lamely, “I just have a hunch.”

  Tony didn’t quite sneer, but said with just a hint of sneering, “A hunch? What is it the police say, ‘last person to see the victim is usually the murderer.’?”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” she said. She was troubled and couldn’t understand why she felt like crying.

  “Sylvia,” he started and then paused to collect his thoughts, “I don’t think you can begin to understand what the last few weeks have been like.”

  He had certainly forgotten what her life was like last summer with Anna’s murder. She had told him, but, perhaps, she thought, there is no comparison. Joyce was his wife, no matter how bad the marriage was. She took another sip of champagne and listened to him.

  “Sylvia, I know Joyce and I didn’t have the best marriage. For God’s sake, she diddled me with lovers and threw it in my face, but she was still my wife,” he said with conviction. “In the last few weeks, every shred of my life and privacy has been violated. Search warrants for my homes and business –they have crawled through every bit of my life. It’s been horrible. This Kenny, that you identified, is our only shred of hope to find Joyce’s killer.”

  “You have a point,” Sylvia said. “I’m so sorry, Tony, I didn’t realize…” she was interrupted by the waitress bringing food where crabmeat snowcapped a filet mignon in some kind of lovely sauce. Her stomach growled inadvertently.

  “I, I need to get away from here for a little bit,” he told her as they ate their dinner. “I need some space from the murder. Now that Kenny is a likely suspect, I have a bit more freedom. I’m going home to Jersey for a few weeks and then I think I’ll go to Florida.”

  Sylvia listened and nodded. She still felt horrible. The lovely steak tasted like cardboard. She could not eat.

  “Where’s your place in Florida?” she asked, trying to get the conversation on a happier note.

  “We have a condo in Palm Beach,” he told her. “Ocean front. Lovely. You would like it,” he said between bites. Then he looked at her, “I wish you could come. Why don’t you?” he asked her, his eyes pleading.

  Sylvia was stunned. She could barely fathom his question and as she hesitated, she saw the hope in his eyes die to sadness.

  “Tony,” she said, putting her hand over his. “I wish I could,” she told him, “but in the next couple of weeks I am in the middle of my best friend’s wedding shower in Connecticut.”

  “Oh,” he said, still flat, but his eyes held a glimmer of hope. “Maybe another time.”

  “Maybe,” she said lightly and non-committedly.

  The evening ended on a more pleasant note. Tony said he would stay in touch via email or phone. He walked her to the car and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Bye,” she told him softly. “Keep safe.”

  He nodded and watched her drive toward home. She was still confused. When she reached her home she noticed lights were on. Puzzled she carefully got out of her car, but remembered she had asked Marian and Jon to walk Percy. It had been kind of them to turn on lights for her. Percy greeted her with a happy bark. He zeroed in on the doggy bag in her hand.

  “Yes, yes!” she laughed as his eyes followed her every move with the plastic bag. “This is a doggy bag filled with wonderful steak for a good puppy,” she crooned.

  Percy barked happily.

  “Another walk first,” she told him.

  At the sound of the word ‘walk,’ Percy ran to the door and sat, barely containing himself. Sylvia got the leash and hooked it on. She took Percy out into the cold winter night. The stars were blazing in the sky, a testament to the clear, cold winter air. The stars sparkled in the dark sky and it was glorious. She found the big dipper and Orion. It was difficult to walk and look up while holding onto Percy. She looked ahead and twisted her neck back and forth to loosen the muscles. Sylvia walked toward the marina past Tony’s dark house. She still couldn’t believe he asked her to come to Florida. When they got home, she prepared Percy’s dinner and opened the doggy bag. He pranced.

  “Okay, okay,” Sylvia told him, “Be patient.”

  Sylvia cut up the steak into small bites and took a bite of the cold steak herself. It was delicious.

  “You are a lucky dog,” she told Percy in a sing-song voice. “Lucky dog.”

  He sat, his front paws trying to prance in the sitting position. Sylvia put down the bowl of dog food and let him dive into the dinner. Next, she called to thank Marian and Jon again for walking Percy. Sylvia realized she was tired and tried to hide her yawns from Marian, but the yawns eventually won out and she said goodbye. A few minutes later she was snuggly in bed and about to drift off to sleep when she remembered the interruption of her dowsing experiment. Suddenly more awake, Sylvia sat up in bed, cross-legged. She took off her neck chain and the ring and held it between her thumb and third finger. She asked the question in her mind, “My name is Sylvia.” The ring on the end of the chain began to swing in small circles that started to get wider and wider. “Percy is a cat,” she thought. Immediately, the ring started swinging back and forth in the “no” position. Sylvia almost laughed. “Kenny killed Joyce,” she thought. The ring swung back and forth and back and forth in the “no” position. She sighed. “The ring of truth” the Green Man said. Hmm….she wondered.

  A rustle of leaves filled the air and there was the Green Man, sitting on the bed next to her.

  “Hello,” she said to him,
pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them.

  “Hello,” he greeted her in his deep baritone.

  He didn’t say anything, but waited for Sylvia to say something.

  She rocked back and forth a little before asking, “Is this ring thing true?” she asked him.

  “Dowsing is real,” he told her, “definitely magical and definitely real.”

  “When are you going out to practice with that young man?” he asked her.

  “With Bill?” she asked him.

  The Green Man nodded.

  “I suppose when this bloody snow melts,” she grinned as she used one of Marian’s favorite epitaphs.

  “I might be able to help you with that,” he said mysteriously. And with a wink, he was gone.

  Sylvia snuggled into the bed not feeling any better. The question is if Kenny didn’t kill Joyce, then who did? Perhaps there was a thief and a murderer at Bayside. The thought was frightening. She was glad Percy was nearby.

  Chapter 31

  “The past has no power over the present moment.”

  - Eckhart Tolle

  By Saturday, the weather had warmed a bit. The great melt was on. Was it due to the Green Man, Sylvia wondered? Sure enough, she had received an email from Bill suggesting if the melt continued that they try dowsing practice in a few weeks over the Spring Break at State. She replied that it would be fine as long as it did not conflict with her trip to Connecticut. It was warm enough that Sylvia could spot a few snowdrops peeking through small drifts and the spikes of daffodils beginning to thrust their way through the heavy granulation of old snow.

  Every two to three weeks, Sylvia drove her trash to the landfill. Since she was single and recycled, the trip was only necessary every few weeks. It wasn’t too taxing. She had a hard time thinking the landfill belonged to Tony. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought was a bit surreal. When she drove into the landfill she wondered where his office was, surely downwind from the stench. She showed her license and told the attendant she had household trash and mostly recycling. They pressed a button and let her drive through the gate. There were attendants that checked at various points at the landfill. Sylvia drove to the recycling center first. It was new and extremely well organized. She threw her cans and bottles over the small fence. They landed in the recycling truck below with a satisfying clank and clamor. She smiled. Usually there was a family or two with young children and it was great entertainment for them to throw the things to the truck below and to make the noise. Sylvia bent over to pick up a plastic jar that had slipped out of her own recycling container. Much to her surprise, her necklace started waving back and forth frantically. Odd, she thought as she reached up to stop it. What would cause the ring to sway erratically? There wasn’t any wind and she didn’t move in such a fashion to make it sway wildly. She could feel the pressure of the ring almost pressing against her hand. She glanced around to see if anyone was around. No one was! So she bent at the waist to let the necklace hang. She took her hand from it and let it hang still, but it only stayed still for a brief moment. Once again it began to swing wildly back and forth in the ‘no’ position.