Christmas Greetings...

                 Wishing you all a very happy and blessed Christmas!  Thank you so much for your support of my "little literary endeavor".   I hope you enjoy reading about these "mini" characters as much as I enjoy writing about them.

Vicki  aka "Madame Mystery"

Gone...But Not Forgotten

Sheriff Beckett and Fr. Kevin discuss plans in the cabin's kitchen

     "What do you mean she took the Escalade?"  Maureen dropped her turkey sandwich back on the plate in front of her.  "Does that mean we're stranded here...out in the middle of nowhere?'

        The thought of having no means of escape made Kevin nervous too, but he held his tongue and let his sister worry for the both of them.  No reason for all the O'Kenney siblings to look like cowards.

      "Actually... no, we're not 'stuck' here.  I keep a beater pick-up out back for work around the property.  Worse case scenario...we could drive that back to Dollyville."  Beckett tossed the rest of his meal in the trash, and placed the dirty dish in the sink.  "But the rain has turned to ice, and driving that hunk of junk over slick roads in the dark would be stupid, especially with the baby on board.  It'd be best to wait until morning to leave.

       Maureen pursed her lips, and leaned on the breakfast bar, directing all the indignation she could muster toward the Sheriff.  "And just what are we supposed to do until then?  Sit around and wait for someone to come cut our throats?"

      The Sheriff rubbed his forehead and sighed, speaking in a voice reserved for the very young, or mentally disabled.  "Miss O'Kenney, you are in no danger of having your throat...or any other part of you...cut.  It was pretty obvious from the crime scene that this murder was some kind of vendetta killing.  It's common for drug lords to remove the hands or tongues of their victims as a sign of their displeasure at being crossed.  That unfortunate woman must have been involved in some sort of shady dealings with some very bad people.  So, unless you know that woman, or are yourself involved in any kind of business with drug lords, I'd say you were in no immediate danger."

      At the mention of the woman, Fr. Kevin's stomach did a lurch.  She had looked familiar.  But then again, it was hard to tell with the odd angle of her head, lying detached from her neck.  And with all that blood covering half her face, he hadn't had a real good look.  If the Sheriff was right, then he must be mistaken about knowing her.  After all, it wasn't like he had any contact with drug lords either.  He turned his attention back to his sister, who he figured was brewing for a heads on confrontation.

       But to his surprise, Maureen didn't say a word. No disagreement.  No last word.  She quietly slid off the stool, and left the kitchen without further comment.  Kevin looked at the Sheriff, and shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of confusion.  They could hear footsteps above their head, and knew when they heard the heavy bang of a door slamming, that Maureen had retired to her room upstairs.

       "I'm sorry Maureen's so upset, Father.  I full well understand that she's afraid.  But I don't believe any of us are in real danger here.  These type of people usually don't bother with anyone not within their circle.  It's all business to them.  You either do what your told, or they end their association with you.  Permanently.  I don't believe we will see any more of them around here."  He paused, and made a face, as if thinking out loud.  "Although, in all honesty, I am curious as to why that young woman was here in the first place.  Plymouth County doesn't see much drug action.  And how the hell does that baby tie in?   It's all too weird to be simple coincidence."  Beckett took a slug from an open can of Pepsi on the counter, and continued.  "I guess we'll know more when the Sheriff's office identifies the vic.  If she's involved with those kind of people, her prints will most likely be on file."

      "Well, you'd know best, Sheriff.  If you say we're in no danger, then I trust your expertise.  Maureen will come around to thinking that too.  I'm sure you're concerned with Miss McKre...I mean Cassie's... welfare if the roads are as bad as you say."

      "Under most circumstances, she'd be fine driving herself.  The Cadillac has all the bells and whistles.  Practically drives itself.  But it bothers me that she left without saying a word.  And, it seems she only took a small tote bag, her laptop, and strangely enough, the rifle.  Of course, if she's on her way back to Dollyville, she'd have what she needs at home, and we could always come back at some point to get what she left.  Just odd, is all.  I knew she was very upset, but I never figured she'd run off like that.  Cassie can be...a bit ...impulsive, but she has always deferred to my...decisions.  And if she's taken her meds, than I worry that her concentration is not what it should be.  I'm thinking I should go after her.  She hasn't been gone long, and the Escalade was low on gas.  She's going to have to stop and fill up, and there's only one station within 50 miles.  Maybe I can catch up with her there.  You don't mind being here by yourself do you?"

          Crossing his fingers for the white lie he was about to tell, Kevin forced a smile.  "Absolutely not, Sheriff.  Maureen and I will be fine until you get back.  You go look for Cassie, and don't worry about the three of us.  We'll be right here when you get back."

           "Thanks, Father."  Beckett bent down, and removed a small gun from an ankle holster Kevin had never noticed before.  "I don't expect that you'll have any trouble, but take this 9mm in case.  It's small, but does the job just fine.  And it may make Maureen feel a bit safer if you have it."
He grabbed a black North Face jacket from a hook near the door, and slipped it on. "I'll have my cell with me, but if you need any help at all, dial 911 first.  Don't waste time waiting for me."   He stood by the back door waiting for the priest to confer.

        Kevin could only nod his agreement, as the lump in his throat and the cold, little gun in his hand, kept him from forcing the words out.  From the window in the kitchen, he watched the Sheriff make his way out back, and soon saw a pair of headlights pull around the cabin and disappear out of sight.  He said a silent prayer that the Sheriff would return quickly, with, or without, the missing Cassie.

                       ______________________________________________________

          He had hoped the television would take his mind off murder and mayhem, but the drone of 376 channels instead lulled him into a deep sleep.  He woke with a start, his neck stiff from being propped on one of the couch's cement like throw pillows.  The cabin was quiet, and the clock on the mantle read 1:20 AM.  He dragged himself off the sofa, and looked out the front windows.  The sleet had turned to snow, and the trees surrounding the building were draped with a heavy coat.  The ground was a solid
blanket of white, not a single tire track marring the surface.  It appeared the Sheriff had not yet returned, and that was worrisome.

          Leaving on a single dim lamp, Fr. Kevin checked the locks on the door, and made his way upstairs to bed.  Maybe the Sheriff had ended up going all the way back to Dollyville in search of his errant bride to be, and there was a chance he wouldn't be back until morning.  It seemed ridiculous to wait up all night, uncomfortable in the drafty great room.

         He was half way up the stairs, when he remembered the 9mm sitting on the kitchen counter.  Probably wasn't a good idea to leave it unattended, especially if Beckett returned to find it lying there.
He trudged back down, retrieved the gun, and with a final glance out the dark windows, turned in for the night.

         The room was cold, and he shivered under the quilt.   After several minutes of pillow smooshing, and cover adjusting, he finally got settled in, and was most almost asleep, when he heard a knock on the door.  Without waiting for his response, Maureen poked her head inside, carrying the baby in her dresser drawer, an afghan thrown over her shoulders.

       "Psst...Kev?"  Are you up?"

       "I am now.  What's wrong, Mo?"

       "I thought I heard something outside my window. Like a scratching noise.  Scared the shit out of me."  She stood at the foot of his bed, hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes, looking so woeful he felt guilty for not checking on her sooner.  "Do you think...would it be okay...if maybe the baby and I could stay in here with you?  I brought a blanket with me.  I could just curl up on the floor.  We won't keep you up, I promise"

       "Sure you can stay in here.  But, I'll take the floor.  You can have the bed."

        "Oh no, Kevin.  I can't make you sleep on the floor.  You know how bad your back gets."

        Fr. Kevin flipped back the quilt, and swung himself out of the bed.  "I'll be fine.  Here, put the baby on the cedar chest.  You'll be able to reach her from the bed if she cries."  He took the dresser drawer from her, and set it on the sturdy surface.  Turning to the bed, he held the quilt back, and motioned for his sister.  "Hop in.  I have it all warmed up for you."

        "Are you sure?  I feel awful about kicking you out of your bed, especially when I'm probably just being a big ole' baby."

        "It's okay, Momo.  It'll be like old times, when you were little and I had to sleep next to your bed in case the monster in the closet came out.  I managed fine then, and I'll manage just fine now."

         She stood on her tip-toes, and gave him a peck on the cheek before climbing under the covers.  "Thanks Kevin.  You're still the best brother, ever."

         He chuckled, and rolled the afghan out on the floor.  "Do you think you could spare a pillow for the best brother ever?"

         She giggled, and tossed him a large feather pillow, aiming for his head.  In that moment, he forgot all about drug lords and dead girls, preferring to remember the many nights he spent telling his baby sister stories as he lay on the floor next to her tiny bed.  For the first time all weekend, his heart felt lighter.

         He settled in on the rug, and it wasn't long before he could hear both his sister and the infant snoring in tandem.  He might have fallen asleep for only a few minutes, when he heard banging coming from the rooms below.  He reached under the bed, and pulled out the 9mm, not knowing what he'd do if the situation required him to use it.  Careful not to wake the child or Maureen, he crawled to the door, and pushed it open.  His heart pounding, he heard the footsteps coming closer up the stairs.  With shaky hands, he pulled the pistol in front of his chest, and kneeling, pointed it toward the staircase.

         The figure reached the landing, and seeing a gun pointed directly at him, stopped, and whispered in a frantic voice.  "Shit, Father!  Watch where you're pointing that damn gun.  It's me!  Ted Beckett."

          Kevin placed the gun on the floor, and struggled to get off his knees to an upright position.
"Sheriff?  Boy, am I ever glad to see you!"

          "And I'm pretty happy you didn't shoot me in the head.  Remind me to show you how to hold a gun properly.  You're a menace with a weapon."

           Embarrassed, Kevin stuttered an apology.  "Sorry, Sheriff.  Handling a gun is not part of my normal job description"  Changing the subject,  he continued.  "Did you find Cassie?  Is she safe?"

        Weary, Beckett sat on the top stair.  "I was able to track her to the gas station I mentioned earlier.  Driving is absolutely miserable.  I basically had to crawl the whole way there, and it took me twice as long as it normally would have.  The attendant was able to identify her from my photograph.  He said he thought she arrived there somewhere around 11:30 PM.  Bought a huge amount of junk food, and several road maps. He wasn't sure, but he thought they were maps of  Ohio, Maine and Florida."

        "Why buy maps of those places?  That doesn't make any sense at all."

        "Beats the crap out of me, Father.  The gas station guy said he tried chatting her up, but that she cut him off, and left in a hurry.  Kept looking over her shoulder, like she was worried about being followed.  I dialed her cell so many times, I've lost count.  All my calls go right to voice mail."

         "That sounds crazy, Sheriff.  Who would be following her?"  Kevin could sense the Sheriff's angst, and tried to offer some positive encouragement.  "Did you check back in Dollyville?  Maybe she just went home, and is sitting there waiting for you to come after her?  You did say she was impulsive."

          "I called a close friend of mine back home.  Asked him to check the house for me.  I knew it would take me hours to get there in the snow, and I was desperate for an answer.  He called me back a short while ago.  Said the house was dark and empty, and the Escalade wasn't anywhere to be seen." The Sheriff leaned his head against the railing, looking exhausted and worried.

           Kevin knew he should say something to comfort the man, but was at a loss for words.  He could offer nothing in the way of suggestions as to where the woman had disappeared to, or any reason she should have acted so strangely.  "I'm sure she's fine, Sheriff.  Maybe she just decided it was too bad to drive, and is holed up in some motel waiting for the weather to improve."

           "Then why not call me and let me know she's okay?"  The man stood up, and shoved his hands into his pocket, suddenly looking very tired.  "No, Father.  It's obvious.  She's left me, and doesn't want to be found.  Why... I can't tell you.  But I do intend to find out."

Copyright 2012 Victoria Rocus

Fr. Kevin shares his room with Maureen and the baby

                             

         

       


     

Big Trouble from the Big Easy

Cassie in the cabin's Master Suite

             

        It was nearly 5:00 PM by the time they made it back to the cabin, cold, wet and thoroughly exhausted.  The rain had let loose in a torrent of stinging, cold drops, soaking them to the skin, and making the last mile or so a true character builder.  With Maureen's teeth chattering loud enough to hear, and Kevin's wet socks rubbing in his shoes, it was hard to tell who was more miserable.  Oddly, the sheriff seemed impervious to the bad weather, setting a brisk pace, and having to stop every so often to let the other two stragglers catch up.  When the log building came in sight,  Fr. Kevin gave a sigh of relief, and literally pushed his sister towards the porch.

      The group was met at the door by a very agitated Cassie, a wailing baby thrown over her left shoulder.  "Where the hell have you people been?  You've been gone almost six hours, and this freaking baby has been fussing for five of them.  I'm going crazy stuck here."  She moved to hand the baby to Maureen, but realizing she was sopping wet, drew the infant back across her chest, and turned toward  Becket.  "And you... I've been dialing your cell all afternoon.  You didn't pick up once.  What the hell is that all about?  You know how I get, and you just leave me hanging?  That's bullshit Teddy! I'm not playing second to anyone."  She scowled at Maureen, walked toward the great room, and plopped the crying baby into her basket.

      The younger O'Kenney trailed after her, leaving huge wet puddles with every step.  "For your information, Cassie McKreedy, this day has been a complete nightmare!  You know what we found in the woods?  A dead girl, that's what!  So don't you go railing on me about your afternoon.  I'll never be able to get that horrible image out of my head."

       Cassie whirled around to face Maureen, her face a distinct shade of gray.  "A dead girl?  What do you mean... dead?  How did she die?  Who was she?  How did she get in the woods?"  The words ran together like watercolors in the rain, with barely a breath between them.

        Before either Beckett or Kevin could stop her, Maureen, near hysterics herself, went on.  "How the hell should I know who she was.  One minute we're walking along, then boom!  I practically trip over a dead woman lying there in the dirt!  It was the most horrible thing I have ever seen.  Her throat was cut from ear to ear, and there was blood everywhere.  The ground was soaked with it, and there were bugs crawling all over her face...all over her open eyes."  She stopped and shuddered.  "But the worse thing was her hand.  It was...was...cut off at the wrist and jammed in her mouth.  Like some kind of broken doll..."

          Cassie gasped, and although her lips were moving, no sounds came forth.  She teetered for a moment, then slumped to the floor in a dead faint.

            ____________________________________________________________________

           An hour later, things were more under control, at least in appearance.  Cassie was settled in an upstairs bedroom, Ted at her side, the baby had been changed, fed, and rocked back to sleep, and now in dry clothes, Kevin and Maureen rested in silence in the cabin's great room.  Hard as they might, they could not ignore the loud conversation coming from the floor above them.  Cassie's high pitched ranting floated down the stairs, followed by Beckett's low pitched timber.  What ever was going on between the two of them, Kevin felt it shouldn't involve either he or his sister, and refused to allow Mo to drag him into speculation about what might be ensuing.  In fact, he wished with his whole heart he were back in the quiet comfort of his rectory, watching one of several Thanksgiving Bowl games.

           When the Sheriff finally made his way to join them, he didn't seem to be in any mood to discuss his personal business.  He poked around a bit with the fire, and once satisfied with the level of flame, parked himself in an over stuffed chair, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.  "I'm afraid I need to apologize if you heard any of that conversation.  This whole murder thing really has Cassie spooked, to the point she's working herself into a frenzy over it.  I tried calming her down, but she's insisting that we leave immediately.  I convinced her to take her meds, and I'm hoping she'll just sleep through the night.  I really don't feel like driving all the way back in this bad weather."  He leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, and turned his attention to Maureen, who was curled in a corner of the sofa.  "Look, I realize this wasn't the weekend get away you imagined, and for that I am truly sorry.  I promise, we'll try this again, and it will be way better.  Honest.  You have to see this place when it snows.  Just beautiful.  And the cross country skiing is fabulous."  He paused, looking so earnest, even Kevin felt bad for him.  He hoped his sister would at least be polite, if not cordial.

          But Maureen was...well... Maureen.  She brushed a stray curl from her forehead, and looked at  Beckett with cool, green eyes.  "Please, Sheriff.  Don't give it another thought.   None of this is your fault, and you don't owe us any apologies."  She went back to flipping through a magazine, and it was obvious the conversation was over on her end.

        The Sheriff took her disinterest in stride, and rising from his chair, added, "Well, the invitation is always open... to both of you... if you change your mind.  Now, how about we see to some supper?  I've been thinking about those leftovers for the last three hours."  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed toward the kitchen.

                   _____________________________________________________________

        While her fiancee was making a turkey sandwich downstairs, Cassie McKreedy was pacing the floor of the cabin's Master Suite, her breathing shallow and quick. How in the hell had Marzano tracked her here...in the middle of nowhere.  It had to be him.  Who else would leave such a grotesque calling card?  And that poor dead woman?  Could it possibly be Lizzie?  Oh damn, not her cousin.  Why would she come back to Massachusetts?  That made no sense.  None at all.  And that baby?  Was it Lizzie's kid?  That seemed impossible.  Surely she would have known if her cousin had been pregnant, wouldn't she?  Her head pounding, she began rummaging through the dresser drawers, pulling things out, until she found one of the hooded sweatshirts Teddy was so fond of wearing.  This would do.

         Cassie knew she should feel some deep seated grief, maybe even guilt, over the death of her own flesh and blood. But at this very moment, her only concern was escaping with her ass intact.  She slipped the sweatshirt over her head, tucking her hair inside the hood until it was completely covered.
From the closet, she grabbed a pair of Ted's Levi's and pulled them on over her leggings.  They were several sizes too big, and inches too long, but with a few rolls and tucks, she'd make it work.  Dressed this way, if someone were watching the cabin, it would be hard to tell if the figure leaving was a man or woman.

      For a second, she felt the loss of everything she was leaving behind, including Teddy.  Would he be hurt?  Miss her when she was gone?  She shook the thought from her head.  Ted Beckett's feelings wouldn't matter at all if she were dead.  End up gutted like some damn fish in the market, her throat cut like poor pathetic Lizzie.  Besides, Ted didn't truly know her.  The real her. Only thought he did.  And maybe that was a good thing.

         She dug through the pockets of his damp jeans, and found the keys to the SUV.  He had left his wallet on the dresser, and flipping it open, she took out a stack of folded bills, and slipped them in her back pocket.  Again, a momentary stab of guilt.  Teddy had been good to her.  Didn't deserve her ripping him off, and disappearing without a word.  She might have actually cared for him.  At least a little.  But sometimes, these things couldn't be helped.  Maybe someday she'd make it up to him.  Maybe.  Someday.

                      ________________________________________________________

       Despite the stress of the day, appetites were hardy.  The three of them dug into the Thanksgiving leftovers, perched on stools around the kitchen's breakfast bar.  With mouths full, there was no need to speak.  They munched quietly, each person contemplating the events of the horrible day, while the storm raged outside.  With a clap of thunder, Maureen jumped a bit, and then narrowed her eyes, her attention focused toward the front of the cabin.

       "Did you hear something?  Sounded like it was coming from outside the cabin. A car, or something?"  She held still, and listened intently.

       Kevin stopped chewing, and listened for a moment.  Confident it was only the rain, he went back to eating his sandwich.  "Naw, it's just the storm, Maureen.  You're awful jumpy tonight, and that's understandable.  You know...considering what went on today."

      The Sheriff nodded in agreement, but Kevin noticed he felt around for the Glock stuck in his waistband, and after a few moments of listening, Beckett wandered into the great room to check for himself.  The baby was still sleeping peaceful in her make shift bed, and hearing nothing from above, he made his way upstairs to check on Cassie.


    After several minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his lips pressed into a tight line. "Cassie's not upstairs.  Anywhere.  And the keys to the Escalade are missing, along with the hunting rifle.  Damn, I think she may have taken off on her own."


Copyright 2012 Victoria Rocus

     





         

           

       

Into the Woods...

Morning Mass in the cabin bedroom

   

      Despite the fact that the bed was twice the size of his attic mattress, luxuriously dressed with feather pillows, and a soft patchwork quilt, Fr. Kevin O'Kenney had a rough  night.  When he did sleep, he had wildly frightening dreams in which an army of red headed babies with sharp pointed fingernails chased him through the pouring rain.  But for most of the hours after midnight, he tossed and turned, rumpling the bed coverings into a tangled mess, and staring aimlessly into the black.

         By 5AM, he finally gave up and hauled himself out of bed.  He hadn't thought to pack a robe, so he slipped on his old clothes, and padded down the hall in search of the bathroom the Sheriff had pointed out the night before.  The cabin was quiet and dark, the only sound being a slight whimper coming from behind the door of his sister's room.  Maureen had volunteered to take the baby for the night, and no one had declined the offer. The two of them hadn't really spoken about the ramifications of the surprise visitor, but he was sure once they were alone, she'd have plenty to say.  Forever the champion of the underdog, there was no doubt she'd advocate for this baby like a mama bear with her cubs, whether or not she had any business doing so.

         Once showered and dressed in fresh clothes, Fr. Kevin felt a tad bit better.  He thought about wandering down to the kitchen, and making some coffee, but feared he might run into Cassie, an option he wanted to avoid at all costs.  Instead he headed back to his room.  Maureen had promised to join him for Mass at 7AM, so he moved a side table over, and readied himself for the liturgy.  Everything in order, he plopped himself into the rocker, and waited for his sister to make her appearance.

           At some point, he must have dozed off, because the rap on the door startled him awake.  It was his sister, as expected, the baby asleep in her arms, and dark circles under her eyes.

          "Morning, Kev.  You sleep as bad as I did?"

          "Worse, probably.  I had a head full of nightmares I couldn't shake."  He looked down at the sleeping baby, and shuddered.

           "No doubt.  This whole thing is frickn' crazy.  Like some kind of goofy soap opera drama.  Why
track you all the way out here?  It just doesn't make sense."

            He couldn't stand the 600 pound gorilla in the room, and finally asked, "You don't really believe this is my baby, do you Mo?  I know you tried to beat the shit out of Cassie for saying so, but I need to hear it from your own lips.  Just between the two of us."

            "Of course not, Kevin.  I knew the moment I saw this kid it wasn't an O'Kenny baby.  Look how much hair she has!  All the babies in our family are bald until their first birthday"  Seeing the stricken look in her brother's eyes, she sighed, and added, "Lighten up, Kev.  I was just teasing.  Of course I never believed for one minute that you would break your vows.  How could you possibly think otherwise.  I think I know you better than any other soul on this planet.  Nobody's perfect, but
when it comes to your devotion to God and the Church, no one is more rock solid.  And I dare someone to say otherwise."

        He leaned down and kissed her cheek.  "Thanks Momo.  You don't know how much that means to me."

       "No thanks necessary, big brother.  Now, you better get going with Mass.  I don't know how
much longer this tiny tot is going to stay sleeping.  I'm sure she's due for a change and a bottle."

        Fr. Kevin slipped on his alb, and began the opening prayers.  The peacefulness of the liturgy and the sight of his sister, content with infant on lap, calmed his troubled mind, and although it was just the two of them, Mass felt perfectly right.  If this whole baby mess was his current cross to carry, he was grateful for the presence of his younger sister at his side for moral support.

      They had just finished up, and the baby began to make her presence known, when there was a knock on he door, and the Sheriff stuck his head in.  "May I come in?", he asked.

     Maureen looked away, setting her lips in a grim line, and said nothing, forcing Kevin to reply.
"Sure, Sheriff.  We were just finishing up Mass."  He pulled off the alb, and folded it into a neat square, while he talked.

     "I didn't mean to interrupt your service.  I can come back later if you'd like." He spoke directly to Maureen, who was doing her best to completely ignore him.

      "It's fine.  We're finished anyway.  What did you need?"  It was obvious that his sister wasn't going to say a word to the man, so Kevin answered for them both.

       "Well, I just stopped up to tell that I made some breakfast, so your welcome to come down and have a bite, if you're hungry.  Fresh coffee too."

       The thought of fresh coffee was enticing, but he wasn't about to cross Mo over it.  Hopefully, she was hungry enough to consent to the presence of the Sheriff, and his troublesome fiancee. Luckily, Beckett solved the issue for them.

        "Cassie's zonked out, and not much of a breakfast eater anyway.  So it'd be just the three of us.  I was hoping the two of you might be interested in a brisk hike this morning.   The weather's cleared, and I really would like to show you around the area.  Try to make something worthwhile out of the bad start to the weekend."

          Kevin waited for some kind of sign from his sister.  He wouldn't mind getting out the confines of this cabin, but again, would follow her direction.  After a moment or two of silence, Mo turned around to face the Sheriff, chin held high, and eyes narrowed.

        "And just what am I supposed to do with this baby?  Strap her to my back like an Indian squaw and tramp through the woods, while you lead on like Big Chief Know It All?"

       The Sheriff turned a light shade of red, and Kevin wasn't sure how this whole thing was going to go down.  Beckett hadn't struck him as someone used to being insulted, but apparently his sister didn't seem to care.

        The Sheriff leaned against the door, folded his arms across his chest and responded.  "Miss O'Kenney, I have apologized profusely for yesterday's fiasco, despite the fact I don't think I am entirely to blame.  It is still my hope that I can act the part of the good host, and try to salvage something of this weekend.  I did call some of my contacts at the Department of Children and Family Services about the child.  But because of the holiday, no one can get here until Saturday afternoon.  Until then, that baby remains my responsibility.  As Cassie will not agree to leaving the cabin, she has volunteered to keep an eye on the little one while we're out.  In fact, if the lake was calm enough, I thought maybe we could take the boat out for a bit.  Of course, if you'd rather stay inside with Cassie, that's perfectly fine too.   Far be it for me to force my company on you."

       It was Maureen's turn to blush, and Kevin could see the wheels turning in her head.  Whenever she was thinking hard about something, she would twist a strand of hair around her index finger, and at this moment, the strand was in a tight little knot.  Finally, she released the lock, and stood up, causing the baby to let out a howl.  "I need to see to this child's diaper and breakfast.  Then, maybe, I'll think about your offer."  And with that, she made her way out of the room, being careful to put a wide berth between she and the Sheriff.

                              _________________________________________________

   
   Two hours later, the group of three headed out into the woods behind the cabin.  Breakfast had been another somber, silent affair, with Cassie making an appearance only a few minutes before they left.  She begrudgingly settled herself on the sofa, the baby tucked next to her in the little basket she had arrived in, and hadn't acknowledged either Kevin or Maureen.  Not that he minded the lack of conversation.  The least amount of contact he had with the woman, the better, and the idea of a couple of hours of fresh air appealed to him.

      He was also glad that Maureen had decided to relent and join them.  He hadn't wanted to leave her alone with Cassie, but was looking forward to walking off some of last night's angst, and when she had thrown on her poncho, he was genuinely relieved.  The Sheriff looked pleased as well, chatting amicably, and pointing out various fauna and wildlife as they walked through a path of towering trees.

      The Sheriff's property was vast, seemingly going on for miles.  They had walked for about an hour, when Maureen tugged on Kevin's sweater, and whispered into his ear.  He tried not to smirk, as she looked rather desperate, and called out to the Sheriff, who had wandered a few feet away.

     "Sheriff, do you think we could chill for a few minutes.  Maureen needs...um...to make a pit stop."

      Becket wandered back, and pointed to spot densely populated with tall, full evergreens.  "You should have plenty of privacy over there, Maureen.  We'll wait here for you."

        Maureen moved toward the trees, her cheeks as bright as the curls on her head, and the two men made themselves comfortable while she was gone.  The Sheriff reached into his backpack, pulled out a thermos of steaming coffee, and two tin cups, offering Kevin first dibs.  Sipping the custom brew, Kevin leaned against the oak, and gave thanks that the day had taken a more cheerful direction.  He surely spoke a bit to soon, as the quiet of the day was shattered by Maureen's piercing screams.

        Both men reacted at the same time, dropping the cups and rushing into the grove.  Maureen stood with her back to them, staring at a body of a young woman, her throat cut, her right hand sliced off, and jammed into her lifeless mouth.

       Shocked, Kevin could only stare, as the sheriff removed his Glock from the back of his waistband, and bent over the body.  From the gaping wound across her throat, and the excessive amount of blood pooling around her head, the priest was pretty sure the poor woman was dead, but watched as the Sheriff tried to find a pulse.  Rising, Beckett stuck the gun back in his pants, and pulled out a cell phone, dialing what Kevin presumed, was the local law enforcement.

       Maureen had buried her head in his shoulder, avoiding having to look at the awful scene a moment longer.  But for some odd reason, Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off the unfortunate victim.  He had a strange feeling that he had seen this woman before.  Where, he wasn't sure, and he racked his brain trying to place the face.

       Beckett finished his call, and walked over to where he and his sister were huddled.  "I'm sorry, but we're stuck until Sheriff Fenton can get here. This is out of my jurisdiction, but someone needs to secure the crime scene.  I'd send you back to the cabin, but I'm not sure you'd be able to find it, and I'd hate to think of you guys wandering around these woods lost, especially since..."  He left the words hanging heavy in the air.

      "It's fine, Sheriff.  We'll wait here with you."  He nodded toward Maureen, "If you could keep an eye on my sister, I'd like to pray for the victim."

       "Sure thing, Father.  But stay three feet away from the vic, and don't touch anything.  I'm afraid we've already contaminated the scene...no need to make it worse. "

         He sat his sister on a nearby log, and Beckett sat next to her, giving her personal space, but staying close enough to offer assistance.  Kevin neared the body as best as he could, and prayed for her departed soul, which he hoped was at peace after such a violent end.  Still, he could couldn't shake the feeling that she was not a stranger.  The shape of her face, the tilt to her nose looked oddly familiar. He debated sharing his feelings with the Sheriff, remembering the man's annoyance at not being told about the phantom Volvo.

        And he meant to.  Really, he did.  But then the local Sheriff and the crime scene people arrived, and things got hairy.  Beckett was busy discussing evidence with Fenton's team, and Maureen, watching everything unfold, suddenly lost her breakfast behind the log they were sitting on.  In her defense, Kevin himself found the murder especially gruesome.  The throat wound was bad enough, but the hand shoved in the poor girl's mouth seemed unusually personal and cruel.

       Fenton took their statements, and after exchanging business cards and handshakes with Sheriff Beckett, the three were free to go.  Maybe it was the drop in the temperature, the gathering clouds that signaled impending rain, or the sight of the dead girl burned into his brain.  The woods seemed darker, more menacing, than they had earlier in the day.  Thinking of Maureen, he worked at keeping his cool, but was happy when the Sheriff picked up the pace of his strides.  He'd be happy when they reached the safety of cabin, and then frowned at the irony of that statement.

Copyright 2012 Victoria Rocus

Murder most foul...

       

   

 



     

   
   
     

       

         

A note from our sponsor...

 Dear Readers,

    Last Tuesday, November 27th, 2012, I suffered a major attack.  I am here today, still writing this blog, because both my husband and I knew the warning signs, and took them seriously.  I am only 53, and have no markers indicating I was at risk.  I have never smoked, do not have diabetes, always had normal cholesterol levels, and do not have a serous family history of heart disease.  There was no warning signs.  I felt fine all day, went to bed, and woke up shortly after feeling queasy.  Within minutes, I was vomiting, sweating, and had tremendous back and chest pain, as well as shortness of breath.
   My husband gave me an aspirin to chew, and called 911.  In less than an hour, I was being prepped for emergency angioplasty.  There was a 100% blockage in a main artery.  A stent was put in, and I'm home recovering.  Of course, this means serious life changes in diet and exercise, as well as a myriad of daily prescription drugs.  And I will need to return for additional angioplasty sometime after the 1st of the year for two other arteries with blockage.  But I consider myself lucky.  If I had questioned my symptoms, fearing ridicule, I would surely have gone into cardiac arrest, and things might be different today.

     This blog receives nearly 2000 page views a month from all over the world.  In gratitude for my life, I am posting this chart of heart attack symptoms.  If it saves at least one life, it will have been worth it.

Thank you for your kindness and support,

Vicki  aka "madame Mystery"

Symptom	Description
Chest discomfort or pain	This discomfort or pain can feel like a tight ache, pressure, fullness or squeezing in the center of your chest lasting more than a few minutes. This discomfort may come and go.
Upper body pain	Pain or discomfort may spread beyond your chest to your shoulders, arms, back, neck, teeth or jaw. You may have upper body pain with no chest discomfort.
Stomach pain	Pain may extend downward into your abdominal area and may feel like heartburn.
Shortness of breath	You may pant for breath or try to take in deep breaths. This often occurs before you develop chest discomfort or you may not experience any chest discomfort.
Anxiety	You may feel a sense of doom or feel as if you're having a panic attack for no apparent reason.
Lightheadedness	In addition to chest pressure, you may feel dizzy or feel like you might pass out.
Sweating	You may suddenly break into a sweat with cold, clammy skin.
Nausea and vomiting	You may feel sick to your stomach or vomit.

Red Room...Returned (Last Time!)

Okay...many of you asked again.  So here they are...for the last time...extra photos of the infamous Red Room ala Fifty Shades of Grey ( with, of course, some poetic license).

I'm thrilled you find my odd little room fascinating.  It was fun to make, and turned out exactly as planned.   I just hope you'll come back to follow the story...

                     
 Copyright 2012 Victoria Rocus

Baby, it's cold outside...

Maureen tends to the newest guest

 
      Scrunched into the corner of the sofa, blanket to her chin, Cassie whined to Kevin.  "Aren't you going to go out there and check on him?  Some thing's obviously wrong!"

     Fr. Kevin griped the rifle tighter across his chest.  "The Sheriff specifically said to stay inside.  I think we should listen to him."

      From under her breath, Cassie mumbled something nasty, and Kevin was pretty sure she called him a "chicken shit".  Apparently his sister heard it too, because behind him, he felt her stiffen.   He prayed that the Sheriff would return soon, before he he was forced to follow him out the door.

       The point became moot as the Sheriff pushed through the heavy wooden door, a large wicker basket in his arms.  The strange noise was muffled, softened by soggy yarn blanket stretched over the top.  "This... you're not going to believe," Beckett warned.

       Kevin expected a basket full of kittens.  Or possibly, some wet and frightened puppies.  He was therefore shocked when Beckett whipped off the cloth, revealing a very damp, howling baby girl.

      For a moment, everyone was too stunned to speak, until Cassie broke the spell.  "It's a baby", she murmured.

        "Duh. Ya think?"  Maureen shot Cassie a snotty look, and leaned over the basket, lifting up the baby, and cuddling her at chest level.  "Oh, you poor little angel!  Who would do such a horrible thing?  Oh my gosh, she's soaking wet.  Ted, do you have some clean towels I could use to dry her off?"

        The Sheriff wandered off, and returned shortly with a stack of soft, cotton towels.  He handed a few to Maureen, and used the remaining one to dry himself off.  "This whole thing is weird. The basket was just tossed on the porch.  I almost tripped over it in the dark."  Raking the towel through his wet hair, he continued,  "My cabin is set in the middle of nowhere, on private property.  Why would anyone decide to leave a baby here?  There's a small town just about 15 miles east.  Much more populated.  So why not leave the baby at the local hospital, or the fire station there, where someone would find her right away?  It just doesn't make sense."

       Maureen rummaged through the basket with her free arm, the baby finally quieting down.  "Well, at least they sent some supplies along.  There's several fresh diapers, two clean sleepers, and some bottles and powdered formula.  We're okay for a little while."  As she removed the items and placed them on the sofa, a damp envelope fluttered from inside one of the sleepers, and fell to the floor.

       Beckett leaned down and retrieved the scrap.  Flipping it over, he read the wording scribbled across the front, and made a face.  "Uh...Fr. O'Kenney...this is addressed to you."  He handed it to Kevin, who stood there, not sure what to do with the envelope.

       "Open it up, Kev.  Maybe it will tell us who this baby belongs to."  Ignoring the oddity that the letter was addressed to her own brother, she tucked the dozing infant in her arms, and sat in a wooden rocker near the fireplace.

        Fr. Kevin picked at the sealed letter, careful not to rip the wet paper, and pulled out a single sheet.
Reading the letter, his eyes grew wide, but he didn't say a word.  Stunned, he handed the letter to the Sheriff, who read it aloud to the group.

       "Dear Fr. O'Kenney,
             I am so sorry.  I tried to keep you out of this whole mess, but things have changed for the worse.  I can no longer handle any of this on my own.  Please take good care of Marissa, and do what you think best."

       Beckett peered intently at the note, bringing it closer to his face.  "I can't seem to read the signature.  The ink has run from the rain.  It looks like it begins with an 'L', or maybe a 'P', but the rest of it is just too smeary to figure out."

       The room remained silent for nearly a full minute, all eyes directed at Kevin, who could feel the heat rising from under his collar.  He knew he should say something, but was at a total loss for words.  He had no idea what the letter meant, or who it was from.  It hadn't made a bit of sense to him.

       The Sheriff cleared his throat, hesitated, and then asked, "So, Father, what do you know about
this baby?"

        Kevin looked across the room to his sister, whose expression he couldn't read.  Next to him, Cassie propped herself on the end of the sofa, with what seemed to be a smirk set across her face.  "Honestly, Sheriff.  I don't know any more than the rest of you!  As far as I know, none of my parishioners were... expecting...I...I...have no idea who...who this baby belongs to.  Or how it got here."  He knew the stammering made him sound guilty, but he was totally freaked, and couldn't get the words out clearly.

        Beckett rubbed his hand across his face in frustration.  " You have to know something, Father. Whoever left this baby obviously knew you were going to be here.  And the note seems to imply that you were somehow...involved."

         "Well, I did tell everyone at Thanksgiving Mass this morning that I was going to be at your cabin for the week end, but that was all.  I didn't even know where this place was myself."  Snapping his fingers, he suddenly remembered something important, and continued, "But, there was this strange white Volvo that seemed to be following us for the last hour or so.  I wanted to say something sooner, but felt you'd think I was nuts.  And then, about a mile before we got here, it turned off in another direction."

         "A car was following us, and you didn't think maybe you should tell me?  Damn, Father, none of this makes any sense.  I feel like we're missing key points here."

        Cassie leaned in, pointing a red lacquered nail at the baby. "And I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but that baby has some fine looking red hair."  She let out a giggle, and shook a finger at Fr. Kevin.   "Looks like somebody's been a very naughty boy."

          From her position across the room, Maureen quickly jumped up, startling the sleeping baby, who let out a yowl.  " Just what are you implying, Cassie McKreedy?  You shut your filthy little mouth, or I'll close it for you!  That is not my brother's baby!  Kevin would never break his vows!"

         Cassie crossed the room, meeting Maureen halfway.  "You are so naive, you silly bitch.  Men are men.  What they do for a living doesn't matter.  Inside, they're all the same.  Something I'm sure you already know, little Miss Dumped."  She turned and looked directly at Kevin, "And we all have our secrets, don't we, Father?"

          Kevin saw the rage in his sister's face, and should have anticipated what was going to happen next.  Before he could stop her, she plopped the crying baby into his arms, and went head first into Cassie, grabbing a hunk of hair, and twisting.  It was obvious that Cassie was no stranger to street brawls, and used her free hand to sock Maureen straight in the gut.  In a matter of seconds, the two were rolling around the leather sofa, punches and kicks flying in every direction.

         He wanted to intervene, to stop the fracas before anyone truly got hurt, but he wasn't sure what to do with the howling baby in his arms.  The Sheriff however, got to them first, pulling both apart, and grabbing a woman in each arm.

          "Knock it off, ladies!  Right now!"  The harder they struggled, the tighter he held them.  "You look absolutely ridiculous, and I'm embarrassed for you both.  Now, you will cease this childish behavior immediately!"

          Kevin hoped Beckett wasn't going to actually release them.  He was pretty sure a little scolding wasn't going to stop either of those hellions from going at it again.  But to his amazement, the women looked sheepish, and after a few seconds, he released his hold, and they quietly went to opposite sides of the room.

       Staring them both down, the Sheriff continued, "Now...Father Kevin and I are going outside to bring in the rest of the luggage, and supplies.  You ladies will act like civilized human beings while we are gone.  When I return, we will all work together to get this food warmed up, and we will have a polite, adult, Thanksgiving dinner.  Have I made myself clear?"  He waited until he had affirmation from each of the two woman, and then said, "Good.  Father, if you would please give me a hand?" And without another word, he turned and stomped out of the cabin.

         Completely mortified, and not wanting to deal with either of the women on his own, he plopped the squalling baby into Maureen's arms, and silently followed the Sheriff to the car.

                          ____________________________________________________

        The women kept to their word, and avoided coming no closer than three feet to each other.  Once everything was unpacked, the four of them methodically warmed the food, and set the table, all in relative silence, while their newest visitor observed from her spot in an emptied bureau drawer.  It was, in Kevin's opinion, the most awkward Thanksgiving dinner he had ever attended, and he was most thankful when it ended, and he could retire to the privacy of one of Beckett's guest rooms.

Copyright 2012 Victoria Rocus

Thanksgiving Dinner...the hard way.