The Mill River Recluse (20 page)

~~~

The massive white house was still and dark.

Just before four o’clock Monday afternoon, Jean Wykowski pushed open the back door to the old marble mansion. “Hello?” she called, but only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the parlor answered her. She stepped into the kitchen and closed the door. It would take only a moment to return the diamond ring to Mrs. McAllister’s jewelry box.

Jean climbed the stairs slowly, recalling her attempts to get to the old woman in her nightmare.
It was only a dream
, she thought, and instead tried to concentrate on the task at hand. When she reached the bedroom door, though, she hesitated before going in. She felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if her entering the old widow’s bedroom now, especially carrying a ring that she had taken from it, were sacrilegious. It was almost enough to make her turn away. Almost, but not quite.

The adjustable bed was in its usual position--facing the window--with the top half in a semi-upright position. The curtains on the window were drawn back so that the occupant of the bed could have seen outside. The heavy bureau was still against the wall, with Mrs. McAllister’s jewelry box resting upon it.

It had surprised Jean, that first day, when the old woman was asleep and she had worked up enough courage to open the small, dark jewelry box, to discover that it was virtually empty. There was a beautiful strand of pearls and a matching bracelet, a cameo necklace, a gold wedding band, and the diamond engagement ring. Judging by the wealth of everything else in the marble house, Jean had expected the jewelry box to be overflowing.

She opened her purse and removed the diamond ring from a zippered compartment. It was as stunning as ever. When she had first seen it nestled in the red velvet of the box’s interior, she hadn’t believed it to be real. It dwarfed her own quarter-carat engagement ring.

She remembered how, while Mrs. McAllister slept, she had first slipped the ring onto her finger. No matter that her nails had been uneven, that the skin on her hands had been painfully dry from repeated washings and the use of latex medical gloves. The enormous diamond had transformed her hand. Even more, it had transformed her, if only for a moment, from a middle-aged, middle-class, average-looking woman into royalty. She had forgotten the disconcerting feeling of certain parts of her body sagging more than they should. Forgotten the hassle of using a weekly rinse on her hair to hide the gray. Forgotten the feeling of wishing for something beautiful and special for Christmas and receiving a microwave oven instead.

She had begun to try on the ring each time she visited, wearing it for a few minutes more each day. And then, last Saturday, instead of replacing the ring in the safety of the red velvet, she had slipped it into her purse.

Now, before she changed her mind, she opened the jewelry box and placed the ring inside. She felt sad as she caught one last glimpse of the diamond before closing the jewelry box. She was giving up her secret happiness. She had no choice.

The stairs outside the bedroom door creaked with footsteps. Startled, Jean whirled around to see Father O’Brien standing in the door of the bedroom.

“Oh! Father! You startled me!” she said, thinking wildly for a way to explain why she was standing in a dead woman’s bedroom. “I heard about Mrs. McAllister. I didn’t know anyone else was here. I still have a key to the back door, and I just, well, I just needed to, to visit one last time, I mean-”

Father O’Brien’s expression went from curiosity to empathy. He came toward her and stood looking out over Mill River through the bedroom window. “I know, Jean. I’m having trouble myself, believing that she’s gone. I imagine you’re feeling much the same way, having taken care of her for so long. It’s quite all right, your being here, I mean. I came to get some information, to start making arrangements for her funeral and for the execution of her estate. But stay as long as you like.”

“Actually, I was just ready to leave.” She handed him the key to the marble mansion and put her purse over her shoulder. “Father,” she said, stopping just before the doorway, “is it true that Mrs. McAllister had no family at all?”

Father O’Brien was silent a moment. “Well,” he said slowly, “members of the McAllister family forgot about her long ago. I don’t believe she’d had contact with any of them in decades.”

“Then, what will become of all this?” Jean asked, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t clutching her purse. “The house, and everything else?”

“I believe it will go to a variety of people,” Father O’Brien said carefully, “but exactly who those people are....” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Who those people are remains to be seen.”

“Oh. Well, I’d better be getting home. Take care,” she said, and started down the staircase.

Stupid, stupid
, Jean thought to herself as she hurried into her car and started the engine.
You should have gotten in and out. A few more minutes, and he would have seen you with the ring
. She shuddered to think how much worse it would have been if she had been caught stealing, or returning something she had stolen, by a
priest
. Her heart, which had been racing since the moment she had seen Father O’Brien, began to slow down. At least now, the ring had been returned and her conscience was clear.

~~~

Father O’Brien watched as Jean Wykowski’s car left Mary’s driveway and appeared on the road back into town. He opened the lid to the jewelry box and saw that the diamond ring was back in its usual place. He still couldn’t believe that she had actually returned it and that Mary had been right.
Ah, Jean
, he thought,
she knew you would keep it for just a little while
. He admired the character that Jean must have had to return the ring she obviously loved so much. Throughout his many years of petty theft, he had mustered neither the strength nor the courage to return a single spoon.

Father O’Brien left the bedroom and went across the hall into the library. The closed door creaked when he pushed it open. The layer of dust that coated the shelves and the stale air that hung between the bookshelves revealed how long it had been since Mary, or anyone, had been inside it. A small desk was nestled in the far corner. He went to it and completely removed the top drawer. It was filled with assorted papers and several bunches of old correspondence bound with rubber bands. Near the back of the drawer, he found what he was looking for: a wrinkled manila envelope containing some folded papers, two business cards, and a small leather booklet.

One of the business cards, from Gasaway and Gasaway, Attorneys-at-Law, was yellowed and slightly bent. The other was crisp and new by comparison. It read
James R. Gasaway, Attorney
. The booklet was old, and nondescript save for the inscription of “Rutland County Savings and Loan” in the lower right corner.

Father O’Brien placed the envelope in his coat pocket and exited the library, closing the creaky door behind him. He went back to the bedroom and withdrew from another pocket a small notepad and pen. He began making notes to himself, lists of things. The jewelry box and its contents were on the list. The house, the furniture, the midnight blue vintage car in the garage out back, the old horse farm that had belonged to Mary’s father. The sixteen million dollars in liquid assets. Sham, the Siamese.

Then, he began to list the names. The Mill River Public Library. Mill River Elementary and Junior-Senior High Schools. Rowen Hansen. Ruth Fitzgerald. Daisy Delaine. Jean Wykowski would have been shocked to know that her name was on the list, too.

The sun was starting to set, and Father O’Brien looked out over Mill River as shadows began to envelop the little town. Today was the ninth of February. He had twenty-two days until March 2.

Tuesday, March 2, would be a very important day. Vermont state law designated the first Tuesday in March as the annual Town Meeting Day. On that day across the state, residents of each town would meet to debate and approve a town budget, elect town officers, and visit with neighbors. Town Meeting Day was always a major social event for Mill River. By the beginning of March, most people in the little town were eager for a change in their winter routines. The meeting was usually held at four o’clock, with a merry potluck supper immediately following.

Father O’Brien thought of the little brown package and the sealed envelope that Mary had given him. They were still on his desk back at the parish house. At Mill River’s town meeting on March 2, after the debating and voting, he would read that letter and present to the town whatever was inside the package. In doing so, he would fulfill his final promise to her.

He looked down over Mill River, watching as the sunlight faded and the streetlights switched on. In the next twenty-two days, he had a lot of work to do.

~~~

Chapter 14

“Well, here we are,” said Conor, holding the back door of the marble mansion for Mary. It had been four weeks since she had last been inside her home, and she walked through the door looking at everything as if for the first time. She was not completely blind in her left eye, but she might as well have been. It registered only shadows of movement and was extremely sensitive to bright light. Its color had changed, too, from a clear, bright blue to a murky shade of blue-gray. She had taken to wearing a patch over it.

“How are you feeling?” Conor asked, coming up beside her.

“Fine. A little strange at being back here, but relieved to be out of the hospital.”

Conor nodded. For a while, he stood in the sitting room, watching as Mary walked slowly around the davenport and chairs, tracing her finger along the staircase railing. She looked up toward her bedroom, put one foot on the bottom step, but didn’t venture any further. She wasn’t ready to go there just yet.

“Grandpop,” she said, backing away from the staircase, “I want to go down to the barn.”

Conor smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. There’s something down there I want to show you.”

All three of the horses were grazing in the pasture. Ebony and Penny hadn’t changed at all, except for having grown fatter. But it was the sight of Monarch that made her gasp with delight. Having been well cared for over the past month, the blood bay horse had regained much of the weight he had lost. His ribs no longer showed, and his coat, though still scarred with white whip marks, was beginning to take on a healthy sheen.

“He looks wonderful! They all do,” Mary said. The horses were coming closer, ears pricked forward, nickering. Monarch wasn’t limping at all. In fact, there was no sign that there had ever been anything wrong with his hind foot.

“The veterinarian was out almost every day at first,” Conor said. “Said he’d never seen a horse in such bad shape. He had him standing with his hind foot in a soaking bucket twice a day for the first week. I don’t know what else he did, but he managed to get the infection cleared up. He said it was close. Another few days and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything for him.”

Ebony went immediately to Mary. Monarch, on the other hand, went to Conor and began nuzzling his shirt pocket.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he told the horse, laughing.

“He likes you!” Mary said.

Conor retrieved several sugar cubes from the pocket and offered them to Monarch. “Sugar’s rationed, you know, so I really shouldn’t be giving it to a horse. But I’m afraid I’ve spoiled him,” he explained. “I’ve been out to see him a number of times over the past few weeks, and we’ve gotten to know each other. He was pretty skittish at first, but this fella has a sweet tooth. Once I figured that out, he came around pretty quickly.”

“Grandpop, I had no idea you liked horses.”

Conor chuckled and rubbed Monarch’s forehead. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around any. But don’t forget, when I was your age, if you didn’t want to walk somewhere and you weren’t taking the train, a horse was your only other option. I enjoyed them very much when I was a young man. I guess I still do.”

“Would you like to go riding with me sometime?” Mary asked.

“I haven’t ridden in years. And, mind you, I wasn’t all that good at it when I was growing up. But, maybe, when the doctor says you are well enough to ride, I could be persuaded to try it again.”

Mary stroked the velvety skin on Ebony’s nose and smiled.

After a few more minutes, Conor looked at his watch. “Mary, it’s after two-thirty, and I promised Stephen I’d be back at three.”

“Oh! Well, you shouldn’t be late on my account.” Her attention was still focused on the black mare.

“Yes. Well.” Conor shifted uncomfortably. “Mary, are you sure that you won’t stay at the house in town with the family for a few weeks? Just until you’ve adjusted to being…well, being by yourself?”

Mary sighed and looked into Conor’s worried green eyes. “Grandpop, I’ll be fine, really. I feel fine. Doctor Mason said there isn’t any reason why I can’t do things around the house, so long as I don’t do anything too strenuous for the first few days. And, I know how Stephen and Elise feel about me. It would only make things worse, for everybody. I’m much better off here.”

“But you’ll be all alone. I intend to do everything I can to see you regularly, but you have to know, with the war on, gasoline is hard to come by and driving for pleasure isn’t allowed. I had to get special permission from the county to take you home, and I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get out here.”

“Grandpop,” Mary said, “please don’t take this the wrong way-–you know how much I enjoy your company--but I’m used to being alone. I don’t mind it. I’ve always been that way. You know strange people and places have always made me anxious. I’d much rather be safe in the comfort of my own home or off riding with Ebony. I’ll be fine here, really. As soon as I’m able, I’m going to start a garden, and go riding, and redecorate the library. And I know you’ll visit me as often as you can.”

“And so will Father O’Brien. He’s right here in town, so he’s offered to stop by a few days each week to check up on you as a favor to a certain someone,” Conor said, winking. “He also said that you should call him if you need anything, however small.”