Chlidren of the Forest

Children

of

the

Forest

Copyright 2022 Lee Willard

The following is a work of fiction, any resemblance to any real people places or governmental institutions is purely co-incidental.

This is dedicated to Donna. Donna deserved more than anyone, but was blessed with the love of her family and friends instead of fame and fortune. Donna left sunshine, beauty and joy wherever she went. Like Delsah, she was beautiful to the very end. All the ‘hood and all of the New England Department of Wildlife owe a debt to Donna.

This tale is NOT science fiction unless you call it ‘alternate reality’ because the specific details of the exact location in New England where this takes place are made up and many route numbers, place names, street names, etc. have been fictionalized. The New England state police is also a creation of fiction meant to tell a story and is not a representation of any real police force in any of the current New England states, but a caricature of some aspects of some police forces. The television stations, nightclubs, photographers, etc. mentioned in here are entirely fictional. In reality the locations on the Greenways mentioned are as much as two days hike from each other. The New England Department of Wildlife was a name used by one of hundreds of groups of friends who built campsites, built and rode trails and partied in the woods of New England and never was a statewide organization (A pity). Only the weather and baseball scores are true to life.

These events happened in 2012 when this part of New England was still deep in the pits of the ‘Great Recession,’ herein often called ‘The Collapse.’ That was right at the point of the smart phone takeover when many people still used flip phones, as most characters in this story do, and most homes still had land lines. Remember that was before social media was such a force for evil and before the Alt Right, Christian Nationalist and White supremacists became mainstream. Though it is only ten years ago, this has to be considered Historical Fiction today because the world has changed so much since then.

Cover by Lee Willard and Roger Zuidema.

Children of the Forest

A madman is loose in the woods of New England, invading isolated homes, killing the inhabitants with a big game weapon and stealing their groceries. With each new atrocity his victims are wealthier than the time before. Kristine Soretti needs a story like this to kick off her career as a free-lance journalist, lieutenant James Kiligan needs this case to advance his career, and his captain and commissioner need a quick arrest to aid an attorney general’s election campaign.

Table of Contents

Book I. For the Love of Janice Jones

Book II. The Foxridge Killings Bridgestone

Book III. The Neighbor and the Driver Isabel&Amos

Book IV. Case Officer Kiligan

Book V. The Fugitive Esher

Book VI. For the Love of Jones Janice

Epilog Lust in the Forest Kris

Book I.

For the Love of Janice

1. Shared Secrets

Jones it’s the ex, Janice called from the office, her voice almost unrecognizable on the spray-booth’s speaker. Dave of Dave and Sam Lieh was hitting the other side of the dent-n-spray they were giving a ‘05 Civic for a guy down in Wills Bridge who ran a colored-streamer used car lot. Jones stepped out of the booth and flipped up the faceplate on his helmet. The nose hose hung down in his face but he was able to pick up the shop phone.

Marston, the sink is acting up again, she began.

He cut her off immediately, You got the house, sweetheart and you moved Mr. Fancypants into the house I worked my whole life to build.

You bought this house.

You know what I did, he said, and now it’s yours.

You could at least give us some advice.

Google, ‘How do I fix a kitchen sink.’

Stop being an ass, she said in her best whiny voice.

When you stop being a viper.

I’m asking you a simple favor that won’t take any of your time.

If you take any more of my time I’m going to have to punch out. You took my house, now it’s your problem.

You couldn’t afford the taxes on this house without my salary.

And you can’t keep it up without my skills and now it’s underwater because you refinanced to buy your Accuras. You’ll have fifteen more years to pay after those Accuras die if you want to keep that house.

She hung up on him. Most calls between them usually ended with the one who made the call hanging up. You go, Jones! Janice said from the other line.

Thanks, he said.

Serves the bitch right, Janice said.

Thanks again, and thanks for not offering your support while she was still on the line.

I’d never do that to you, we’re friends. I was on mute til she hung up.

And thanks for being a friend too, but I better get back in the booth or Dave will ask if I punched out.

She made the sound of a whip cracking and hung up. He put down the visor, turned on the blower and got back in the booth. He really was glad to be friends with Janice. With only four full-timers left at Lieh Brothers, it was a lot like a family with he and Janice being the kids. They teased like kids at times, but it was more and more fun and funny. But so far the only time he’d been alone with her was a kayak trip they took last fall. From right behind the shop they could go up and down the Eagle River (really little more than a brook) from the millpond, almost to the route twenty two bridge.

It was really beautiful, and he really wished he could have turned the conversation to something more romantic and less like siblings. He still felt a little awkward because of their ages. At thirty two she was still in her youth, with a subtle beauty that looked like it would last. At forty two he was into middle age. He didn’t feel it yet, he felt fit as he ever did, but he was conscious of the number. He tried to think of a way to come onto her without acting like a dirty old man. Since then he’d tried to wrap it in humor and that had been a large part of their teasing.

The Civic was soon sprayed and they left it in to bake. The juice for the heat lamps was a large part of the cost of one of these jobs. They charged commercial customers a bit less to accept a few imperfections, but it could still turn a twenty five hundred dollar car into a forty five hundred dollar car if it was mechanically sound. He got out of the spray suit and helped Dave clean up. When that was over he went out to the back porch to clear his lungs.

Behind the shop is a small sand and gravel yard and then a rail line between the shop and the river. Beyond the river is a hayfield, beyond that, the forest. Down by the pond is a little village, what’s left of the millworker’s housing on one side of the river, lake cottages on the other. Not even ruins of the mill itself remain, but the dam is still there. It was the nineteenth of April 2012 and they were blessed with a summery day. The trees were just beginning to show a little leaf so the sun was strong and made the back porch even a little hot, which was to be expected after a winter that had just about missed them altogether.

There was an iron handrail and a four foot drop. Trucks could have backed up to this at one point, but wild roses and blackberry had taken over where the pavement had long crumbled away. A dumpster rusted in its final resting place to the left, engulfed in morning glory, honeysuckle, creeper and kudzu. All of those were out already and bees were out in swarms and the black flies might have thinned out a little. Steps lead down to the right. The brush around them was cut back in the years when the fire marshal complained. The Lieh brothers had never put new yellow tin siding on this side of the building since it didn’t show from the street and was far enough from the river not to attract too much attention. It was passengers on the Montreal Amtrak that had the best view of it, but they went by in seconds.

The big tin shed was in what might have been the tiniest mill town south of Saint Johnsbury. The good thing was, because it was two and a half miles from the edge of the university campus, there was a pretty lively watering hole three blocks up on the state road that made a decent pizza. The river behind the shop had some nice brookies he could get to with his kayak.

Janice came out the other back door, caught her long, wheat blond hair as it blew in the breeze. She pushed it behind her ears, then leaned on the rail with a pen between her fingers, holding it out and level. You still miss them don’t you? he asked.

Shut up, shut up, she held up her hand with her head down, but instinctively careful not to let the ash from that pen catch her hair.

What’s it, three years since you smoked now?

Tobacco, she said, as much to the river as him.

That was a very interesting comment. He wasn’t proud of his habit, it wasn’t the center of his life, but it was there and was one of the reasons he worked here where there was no piss test. Three years they had been friends and he never knew that about her. Of course today everyone is afraid to ask. The brothers could be in trouble if they knew, even though Jones suspected they also indulged. I never smoked tobacco, he said.

She looked up at him. He could see she was looking at him with new eyes. She could probably see that he was looking at her with new eyes. She took a deep breath, Tomorrow’s Friday, she said.

Any plans? he asked.

We could talk further about what we were just talking about after work tomorrow, she said.

Sounds like fun, he said. Where shall this conversation take place?

Oh, that could be anywhere, she said. My place, your place, down on the riverbank if it’s as nice as today, wherever, I’ll be prepared.

So will I, Jones said. He wasn’t sure why they were so afraid to talk about it here. Dave and Sam had been party animals in their younger days and still reminisced about the New England Department of Wildlife and the Eagle River rope swing. He thought pot smoking was an entry requirement for the NEDW and you could get high just hanging out at the rope swing. Since their wives and kids came along, they said they only reminisced, but they kidded Jones about being a single young man again. Dave was three months older than Jones, Sam was twenty eight months older than Dave.

Janice was still looking at him with new eyes, her head at an angle and the breeze blowing her thick blond hair around her face again. He had always noticed she was beautiful in a very natural way. For some reason her natural beauty seemed all the more radiant today. She nodded. This could be interesting, she said, but I still have five sharks to chum before I can get out of here. I don’t see anything else on your schedule today. Ernie can’t bring that Golf down til tomorrow.

Slow days were no longer a novelty at Lieh brothers. Most of their work was spraying temporary advertising signs on Buicks for golf tournaments, and dent’n’sprays for a few guys who still flew those strings of cone-shaped flags around the eastern fringes of the metropolitan area. I think we were going to go over the compressor this afternoon, we haven’t torn that down...

Yeah, yeah, yeah, she said. You guys are as bad as bikers with your wrenching. With that she went back thru the door waving him off, but in a decidedly good natured way. His new eyes noticed all the more how well she filled her jeans.

2. Stopping By After Work

In a few weeks it developed into a routine. He would buy take-out or she would cook dinner. They would smoke a bowl and watch a movie, preferably comedy, more chick than action, but he didn’t mind, he didn’t like the senseless wastes of ammo either and it was her DVD’s they were watching. She liked suspense, he could get into it. Her place was small, but it was much closer than his condo in Easton. Her place was above the detached garage of a house out on the very edge of Wills Bridge, it was tiny but well-built of rough-sawn white oak, well before the days of zoning and building inspectors. Most of the lichen-encrusted grey shingles were still on it. The sun porch was snug and had western exposure, but that was across a few feet of lawn to dense woods beyond. She had enough plants that no one noticed how much of the paint was peeling on those windows.

He tried not to push too hard. She had been hurt badly in her last serious relationship and insisted she only wanted a friend and resisted turning the corner. He hadn’t brought it up much directly yet but the comments between the lines in the jokes told the tale.

After two months of that they turned a corner in a different way. When they were alone in the office this Tuesday she pinched her fingers in front of her lips and asked if he wanted to stop by after work. He was a little surprised, but readily agreed. As soon as he was here, it seemed like Friday. They sank into the couches in her front room, which was the closed-in sun porch, and she packed a bowl while turning on the evening news.

There had been a horrific murder over the weekend just a few miles away at a horse farm on Pine Street in Foxon township and Janice was quite concerned with it. The whole Sarcouski family was murdered and the state police had a news conference this afternoon. They were showing highlights of it. There was some video of a real gung-ho looking, no-nonsense state cop reading a statement with all the flare of a toy robot with a low battery. There was a buxom girl in a frilly blouse standing in front of the capitol and giving commentary on clips taken at that news conference, as well as clips taken from the site where they had been live all day Monday. All you could really see from the site were some state cruisers and Suburbans and a lot of blue lights flashing.

That’s my ex roommate, Janice said, pointing the stem of the pipe at the screen. So Kris made it into TV, good for her.

Yeah, you knew her?

She slept in what I now use as the all-purpose room for a little over a year. We both applied for that job.

What was she like then?

All about popularity, a flirt, quite a... she paused, well; shall we say she should check the ‘sexually active’ box on her medical questionnaire.

How well did you know her?

We didn’t hang out but we were cordial, she was out all the time, a few nights a week she’d come in late and sleep here. We never had meals together, even if she used the kitchen. We watched TV together maybe two hours a month and usually talked about household stuff during that time. She never brought people over. She needed an address and a place to keep her things for awhile. I needed help with the rent.

How did you know her? Jones asked.

From school, but I was already fifth year when she came in, and I already lived here in my fifth year. She sat at my lunch table for a couple, three weeks, then moved on.

Jones hadn’t really been following what they were already calling the ‘Pine Street Massacre’ up til now, but since it was being covered by someone Janice knew, he watched it while he took a second hit.

She got a couple more shots of the cop that time, Janice said. It was him in civvies with a black dude who was also obviously a cop in civvies walking across the park from the capitol. At the conference he even answered two of Kris’s questions, Janice added.

So she was here after college?

Yeah, Paul would have never let anyone live here. She didn’t get her own place until a year ago.

He had known her when that reporter was here but they weren’t close enough at the time for her to give any more details than ‘my never-home roommate.’ She’s found fame... Jones trailed off, noticing there was nothing good he could follow that with. Your dad works for this station doesn’t he?

Yeah? she looked at him. Did you think I watch the news like an old woman just because I have an old man over?

Thanks a bunch for that harpoon, miss thirty something.

It’s because of my old man. He drives the truck... and maintains it, and rewires it, and fills out all the paperwork on it and, and, and. And you’re not an old man, you’re closer to my age than his.

Does that mean there’s hope?

For this friendship? she asked.

Yes, he said, biting off saying anything more.

Sure. You’d like my dad. He’s from our side of the tracks. He’s got a ‘55 that’s almost as mint as your ‘89, but it’s not registered so he never takes it out.

And the Sox? That was one thing they shared. It was great to know a girl who knew baseball, they’d talked about saving up to go to a game as a special event.

Yeah? she said, like it was a stupid question. It seems to be a hereditary disease in my family, third generation at least. She got up, So sit and veg while I find us something to eat, she said when she put the pipe down.

Getting up from the sofa was half the journey to the refrigerator. There was quite a bit left in that pipe and he didn’t want to stay for the rest of it and go into the shop tomorrow. It is a step up into the kitchen and the refrigerator is right there. That meant he could see her face clearly as she opened the door. He saw that she had to check if she was that stoned or not.

He got up with a heave and was right beside her looking over the door and into that refrigerator. In the meantime she had also opened the cabinet where she kept peanut butter, crackers, bread and pasta, all that stuff. All the while she was making noises like, Uh? What the... Huh? In her refrigerator he could see the mustard and soy sauce, along with some leftovers, maybe something in the drawers. In the cabinet there was a box with a quarter packet of stale diet thins and a few packets of gravy mix. I thought I would make supper? she squeaked, I know I had more than this. I was gonna do tacos. I had half a pound of fresh hamburger left. I had a big bag of salad greens, half a big tomato in plastic, an unopened box of shells.

Are you saying someone took your food?

Must have, but Bernie and Fergie would never do that.

There’s been a rash of that going around, Jones told her, It was on the news recently, all along route three. The news guy on the radio thought it was a group of homeless pre-teens that had been seen camping in the woods along the greenways.

We should expect it I guess, she sighed. What with so many never recovering from the financial collapse. It’s been four years now and we’re still at the bottom of that.

Where you gonna find supper now?

Probably in the dumpster behind that Chinese place across the street, she joked very dryly. It was across from the laundromat and down on Cod Street beyond two large Victorian mansions that had been converted to multifamily.

She looked in the door compartments and drawers. Well, I got three eggs left, some celery, the old lettuce is gone by, she let it thump into the compost. Here’s some cheese, we got cheddar and whew, I can’t pronounce it but some yuppie left it here once. She got rid of that too. It wasn’t that color when he left it. This bread’s still good but this ham ain’t, she said upon inspecting the leftovers. He heard the ham make its way to the compost bin.

We shouldn’t have gotten stoned first, Janice said, We could have gone out.

I haven’t got the money to go out on a Tuesday, Jones said, but considering the emergency I could go to the front door of that Chinese place, he said.

If you can go there and bring it back. I’m too stoned to walk in there.

Eggs and celery it is, Jones said.

How do you like your eggs?

Benedict, he joked.

There were a few cans left on the refrigerator door, she picked one up, then made a nasally noise and said, I don’t know, I think this cheese whiz is from a previous tenant.

That went into the trash barrel. He already knew neatness was not one of this girl’s strong suits, and her cooking was edible but certainly not the reason he pursued her. Whoever cleaned out her cabinets was smart enough not to take this stuff that had been hidden behind the more recent items. I’ll settle for sunny side up in a clean pan, Jones said, even if I have to wash it.

She glowered about that as she got down the pan from a hook on the ceiling. She mumbled something about the scum bags who picked her place to raid and how it served them right to get so little. Once the eggs were in the pan she said, This ought to be on a comedy show, loud enough so he could really hear it. I always thought Lieh Bros. would make more from the comedy shows they could make from hidden cameras in the shop and our houses than we could ever get for our paint jobs.

The Hollywood unions would never allow it, Jones said, and those unions are moving into New England now too.

She gave him the ‘so what else is new’ look but said, So what was our excuse for coming here? Janice asked him.

To get high, he said. He had gone back to the couch and was still watching the Pine Street Massacre on the news. Kris was back on, she was now interviewing some criminologist from Yale.

The murder might be the reason he was here. Living out here where she did, he could understand why Janice was so concerned with it. To one who lives in a townhouse condo overlooking a six lane interstate less than fourteen miles from downtown, this was very remote.

No, what were we going to tell the shop? she asked.

It doesn’t matter what we tell them, they’re both sure it’s for sex.

You’re going to disappoint them with no stories to tell.

I’d rather disappoint them than you, Jones said. He didn’t say he could make up all the stories he wanted, but he wouldn’t, he would just say he never tells.

You won’t disappoint me, she said.

He got out his best joking voice and said, So you’ve asked around? There was no one in their lives to ask around to, and they both knew it. His ex was in his house with her new hubby, and after stiffing her and his bandmates for thousands, her ex was singing in a different band, in a distant state, with three other girlfriends, bound and determined to never grow up.

Why; do you get around? she asked. Because we came over here to get high and get supper and nothing more, just like on Fridays.

If you want anything more you’ll have to ask, he said. He knew he could stick to that and knew she would get annoyed if he did.

They had egg and cheese sandwiches with celery and dip on the side, then she found a bag of those miniature chocolate kisses for cookies in a drawer of the bottom cabinet, and they went thru that. They reminisced about that kayak trip they took last fall. They agreed they should have known the secret they shared back then because a bowl would have gone well with the fall colors. They planned to certainly do it better this fall. After that they got onto the sell-out of government to the corporations which went right to money in politics. She was very worried about the election and so was he. He noticed that she found excuses to smack him playfully, bump into him, lean on him, sit against him. He welcomed it all, but he didn’t pursue her. He could tell she missed playing the game.

They paid little attention to the TV shows they were watching, and a lot of attention to each other’s ideas as they talked thru the evening. He couldn’t remember ever connecting as deeply with Lisa as he could with Janice. She was open and talkative and didn’t change her opinion to agree with her company. If anything he already knew she relished an argument, or ‘debate’ as she called it.

For as down-to-earth as she was, most of her opinions were educated. She knew all the reasons an economy does better with a more equitable distribution of income than it has today. He learned a lot of stuff that made a lot of sense that evening. It was when the ten o’clock news came on that they realized the evening had gotten away from them.

This was not the first time he wished he could turn a corner in his relationship with Janice. The fact that she was ten years younger was just what one side of him wanted. Not a fairy-tale twenty something, but a healthy and attractive woman who would be an active companion. They were quiet for a time, staring once again at the girl Janice knew and her attempts to get a statement from the cop in charge of the scene, the same files they had played at six.

She looks very young, Jones said.

She was always vain and she wears a lot of makeup. That’s one of the things she liked about the job was her employer covering her cosmetic habit.

She looks like she’s trying to make this cop. I bet she was the slut of the floor.

She thought I was the slut of the floor.

You certainly don’t act very slut-like with me.

We work together and we’re friends. We know too much about each other. We can’t screw around because your friendship would be too much to lose when we break up.

Why would we have to break up?

Relationships always do, it’s just a matter of how long and how messy.

My parents have been married fifty one years, he said.

She looked at him like he must be making that up, saw on his face that he wasn’t, and turned her eyes back to the screen. It sounded like a culture she couldn’t comprehend. She’s going to lose her job, Janice said. She was out there all night and all she’s got are scenes of being thrown off the site twice. None of the real info they have is from her reporting until the press conference.

You don’t understand news, Jones told her. It’s a lot of talking heads, she shows well in front of the camera. She’ll be an anchor in just a few years.

I’m sure that’s what she really wants, Janice said.

She should try to look more mature. You can tell her that the next time you see her.

Oh I never see her any more, Janice admitted. I haven’t seen her since she got the last of her stuff. I said congratulations on her new job and she gave me a hug and that’s as far as that relationship went.

And you’re still following her career two years later?

I turned this on for my dad, I didn’t know she was going on-air til now, this story. Besides that, but for the tits, that could be me.

Your tits are fine, I would be honored to caress them, and moved his hand in that direction.

We’re friends from work, she said with mock indignance but pushed his hand back.

He was playing her game after all wasn’t he? Even so, it was fun for him. But your tits are still fine, he said, though she was not what one would call ‘stacked’ like they would Kris, she was plenty curvy enough to be womanly. You don’t have the mean streak, that’s what you’re missing. The only time I’ve ever seen you get mean is when you refuse me.

She laughed wickedly at that, I can be as mean as the Dark Lord when I have to. She rubbed her body on him, passed her sweet blonde hair across his face and went back to the refrigerator and opened the door-side drawer. They took the open six of bud, she said, but they left the Piels. I’m having one, you?

I could probably get it down. He heard her open the six pack. So should you call the cops about it?

Damn right, just as soon as I burn two sticks of incense and put my stash out in the gutter by the bathroom window. I don’t think so. To start with, it would be a couple borough constables who took the call and you can bet one of them will be on a work-study from trade school. Not only that, he was only on work-study as part of his community service for juvenile B&E and wasn’t really interested except for casing the joint. They’ll take a statement, give me a form for my insurance agent, like I’m going to raise my rate two hundred a year for fifty bucks worth of groceries. If I was to allow a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses to come in they would make a more thorough investigation of the crime scene, but the cops would look for other violations once they caught the smell. Also, if I was to find out in heaven that the ‘community service’ punk was in on it, I will admit, I won’t be overcome with shock.

So it would be useless.

Less than useless. It shows you how far the collapse has progressed. They would never make even the slightest pretense, that they were ever going to ever even think of trying to find and punish the low-lifes who did it.

It was probably a group of homeless, they think that’s probably what it is all over.

The borough’s full of them, she said, and some of them scare me. I’ll drive to the stores by the interchange rather than pick up pizza and beer down the street. Cod Street was actually route eleven, but some called it Heroin Street. In the good sections were the sharks who sold cars under those strings of cone-shaped flags. A few of the old mills still awaited demolition or re-habbing into senior housing, now they were mainly displays of broken glass and Krylon art. There were a few blocks of re-habbed shops up to where the railroad used to be.

Wills Bridge had once been a mill town a day’s train ride from the capital, now known as ‘downtown.’ Now it was a tiny splinter of inner city in the suburban sea, forty five minutes, mostly two-lane, from downtown. Her apartment was the last property in the borough, township and county. A few hundred feet one way she had pimps, prostitutes and heroin deals, a few hundred feet the other way, dense second growth forest. At the top of the hill in that forest was the link in the greenway that had once been the rail line from Wills Bridge to Easton, Eastchester and on into the capital.

3. The Evening News

The next day Jones got back to his place a bit before six, glad to get inside for a change because it had been a scorcher, unlike yesterday that was rather clammy. He flipped on the A.C. and T.V. on his way to the bathroom. It was an old one with a tube and the cable box took longer to boot than his iMac. He was rummaging in the refrigerator and wondering if he was up for the effort of making an actual meal. It wasn’t til he heard the Shot with an antique weapon... that he really paid attention. He shut the fridge and came out to see the news article. It was that cute reporter with the garhoolies that Janice knew. There is a suspect under investigation, she was saying. A picture of a skinny old guy with long grey hair and beard came up on the screen. This is Tom Esher, a former stable hand and boarder at the Sarcouski farm. He is known to have psychological problems, drug abuse problems and a criminal record. This man is armed and dangerous and may be irrational. The weapon he is carrying is an antique Mauser .3006 ‘big game rifle.’ If you see this man, get away from the area and alert the police immediately.

An aging hippie reliving Charles Manson? the anchorwoman mimed confusion. Miss Juggs faded away and they went on to an article about the hidden dangers in baby strollers.

He called Janice. Jones, what’s up? was her answer. It sounded like her mouth was full.

They have a suspect in that Pine Street killing.

OK?

I thought living at the edge of the woods the way you do, you might like to know.

I also live at the edge of town like I do and I worry a lot more about trouble from that side than I do from the woods. I hate hearing screams I can’t understand.

That too. Anyway, it’s an old hippie dude that lived on their farm, Tom Esher.

Esher? Of Dell and Esher?

You know them? Jones was shocked.

You don’t? You... you know, they both knew better than to talk about the habit that had brought them together over the phone, and you don’t know Dell and Esher?

It was a guy named Tom Esher.

That might have been his first name, he never used it. He’s at all the free stuff in the area, him and Dell. They came to the Bridge Fest every month. They hike the whole distance on the greenway. Dell was sick the last time I saw her and really worried about the hike back.

They said he was a drug addict with mental problems.

They still smoked. You know. And he might have been getting a little slow and forgetful but he’s seventy something now.

He shot them with his .3006.

No way, she said.

It was just on, your friend...

I hardly knew her, she used the place for storage more than anything, we weren’t close enough that I would say we were friends.

Anyway, that’s what he did.

That’s bullshit. Janice said with complete confidence and disdain. He didn’t do it. He was careful not to step on frogs. He thought people should be instinctively unable to hurt each other.

He’s missing.

He didn’t do it. He may have some strange notions, but shooting people wasn’t one of them.

Just be careful.

Oh Jones, come on, I may be younger than you, but I’m not a kid. I don’t open the door to strange men waving big game rifles.

This isn’t funny.

I wasn’t laughing, she said.

I could come over.

Now I’m laughing. Yesterday was a moment of weakness, I have to get my sleep and do my chores on work nights.

I care about you.

And I care about you too, and I’m grateful. You don’t think I go to Lieh Brothers for the pay do you?

Then why chance it out there alone?

Bernie and Fergie can hear me scream.

If they’re awake and don’t have the TV too loud and don’t think it’s just down the block.

I’ll see you at work tomorrow, she said.

I want to come over, it sounds like you’ve got food again.

Yeah, let’s see how long I keep it this time.

I don’t feel like cooking.

Oh you poor old man, she said in mock sympathy.

It was over a half hour to her place anyway, he wasn’t serious. Just a lonely old man. He was afraid of getting old. He didn’t want to do it alone. Three years and he still wasn’t used to it, his condo felt like he’d never finished moving in.

She was still eating, he could see her sitting sideways on the bench at her kitchen window with her feet up, phone on her shoulder, plate in one hand, fork in the other, poking her hair back with her wrists. I can’t do anything during the week, I’m not in college any more.

I didn’t mean...

Or whatever, she said, more to the NSA than him.

You’re so alone there, he said.

Yeah, so I can get the dishes done, maybe a load of wash, get my to-do list shorter instead of longer, and even get enough SLEEP. Ah what an evening alone would be.

He knew some weekends her aunt came out from Southbury and she saw her dad every few weeks. He wondered what took up the remainder of her time? She never talked about a boyfriend. She broke up with Paul about three years ago, not long after she got to the shop. That said, could there be someone she wasn’t talking about? What did she do on Saturdays? She could always call it ‘girls night’ and had enough friends to make it plausible. So what do you do all week?

Get sucked into too much CSI and NCIS and all them.

So do I, that’s part of why I worry about you.

They’re shows, they’re not real, she said. In them they catch the guy.

That’s not funny. They haven’t caught Tom Esher yet.

Good, ‘cause if that macho cop thinks Esher did it, he’s smoking something stronger than Esher ever did.

You should submit that as a comment on their website.

While I’m waiting on the washer, there’s plenty of time to walk back over and log on...

You use the laundromat? That was where the kids she worried about hung out. It was the first business on that side of Wills Bridge. Across the street and two doors up was Hung Won, that Chinese place.

No, I have to walk over to the house and down the basement stairs.

Even so... it was thirty yards in utter darkness.

Jones, listen, before we started hanging out, I did this at least once a week, usually two, for the last nine years.

But there wasn’t a madman shooting people up until now. You’ve been there since...

My fifth year at Eastern, Janice said around whatever she was finishing up. He heard the clink of fork on plate. Now listen, I really mean it, thanks for calling. It really is nice to know someone cares. I’m glad my tongue slipped that day. But I have to get going, by the time I get the dishes done and the washer going I’ll be comment number fifteen seventy five anyway so what’s it matter?

Thanks Janice, stay safe.

Thanks, bye, and she was gone. He was too deep in this already wasn’t he? She was ten years younger than he was. She was childless, Lisa had his tubes as well as his house. Lisa was expecting with her new hubby in the house Jones had been rebuilding since he was twenty six. That house and the ‘89 had been his life’s work.

Two years since his last date, is this still the rebound? It’s his imaginary rebound, he hadn’t even kissed her, never had more physical contact with her than a co-worker hug and a touch of fingers passing the pipe or a little shoulder slapping. In fact he never even imagined making love to her. She could be the tom boy, or frilly romance. He wondered what turned her on? He wondered if she looked at him as more of a father substitute. He wondered if she was in a live sex chat right now?

Why wasn’t he? He knew why, it was because he wasn’t looking. Lisa had been too devastating to him. They weren’t even married ten years, only the legal minimum to have a claim on joint property. She had helped some in it’s renovations. Going out for more beer when his friends helped him with the roof, even holding the end of the measuring tape and writing down a few numbers on a few occasions. But most important, she could buy him out, he could not afford to buy her out.

By the time she got the house, it was landscaped all around, the deck was in with a built-in gas grill and a little fireplace in the corner. At least he got to keep the tools. They were packed solid all around the condo’s garage, leaving just enough room to get his mint ‘89 Z24 convertible inside, but he had to climb out the window onto the stairs. The garage bay with walk out pit where he built a lot of that car were in pretty-boy’s hands now. He never owned a tool.

So if he wasn’t looking, why did he care about Janice? Was it anything more than the mating instinct? Was he prepared to cling to her friendship while she found a boyfriend, got married and raised a family? How long was he willing to pass up the remainder of womankind for one evening a week of passing the bowl and a little conversation? Somehow he found he would rather that than the ‘dating scene’ right now.

4. The Friday Routine

It was Friday and they were at her place once again. They were actually sitting on the steps outside in the sun on a bright and clear evening. The sun was sparkling thru the trees already, though there were hours of daylight left. They kept the pipe low even though the garage across the driveway had no apartment above it. In fact it was easier to get into that garage thru the roof than the door since January of last year. He already knew there was a ‘51 Packard rusting away in there, and that vandals from every generation since the 60’s had left a layer of damage behind. That house had four apartments and their cars were lined up almost to that garage. It was because someone might come out to those cars that they kept the pipe low.

Their talk had worked it’s way around to Kris Soretti, Tom Esher, and the Pine Street massacre again.

I’m worried with you living here, he said. You’re as isolated as the Sarcouski place.

But it’s nice out here, you’ve even said so yourself.

But maybe you should spend nights somewhere safer, at least until they catch the guy. I love to have you spend the night with me.

We work together.

Everyone already ‘knows’, he drew quotes in the air, we’re sleeping together. Why pay for the pleasure without taking it?

Who says it’s pleasure, Janice told him.

So you’re a virgin? he asked.

I’m thirty two years old, she replied indignantly.

It does happen, he said.

There was Paul, and all the peckers I hid to get even with him.

So you get no pleasure from it?

She changed the subject. How will you feel working with me after the affair?

"We’re friends now, we’re not going to want to hurt each other, and besides, I’m wondering why the affair would have to