Moose River Murder

A tall, well-fed young man looked out a large picture frame window onto a garden of various manicured shrubs, topiaries, and ornamental flowers that framed a maze of paths carved into the sprawling blue-green lawn that was embanked by a serene lake. The branches of the oaks and sugar-maples rhythmically swayed in the gentle breeze. While lost in his befuddled thoughts, he caught a glimpse of a pair of kayakers as they skimmed along the calm blue water. He watched them enjoying their sunny bliss until the disappeared behind the boat house. Further in the distance he looked at Moose Island. Its dense woodlands rose out of the lake like spires on a cathedral reaching for the heavens. His eyes wandered along the line that formed between the dense woodlands and the narrow rocky shore. Finally, they fell upon a few sunbathers grilling in the noon day sun. He finished his glass of whiskey before he turned back to his guest, Pearlie Pratts.
“What is the matter with you?” Her voice trembled.
Louis spoke with an unaffected tone “Sir William Hotham came here in 1930 and built this lodge for that upcoming winter Olympics. He was ahead of his contemporaries. As you may have noticed he incorporated a lot of passive solar features into his design. He built this house knowing it could heat itself in the winter and cool itself in the summer. That is why there are these south facing windows, these massive stone walls, and the granite floors. They catch the sun’s heat and then slowly radiate that heat into the house through the night. They mocked him. They said it would never work. But he proved them wrong, didn’t he? You see this was his love. Shortly after the closing celebrations when no one invested in his ideas he came into this room and shot himself.”
Alarmed, the young woman rose to her feet. “Louis…what are you talking about?”
“Love.” he said “To live, to love, to die, I just wanted to make sense of it all.”
“You are not making sense, Louis.”
“Pearlie, you know what it means to love someone and then to lose them. The pain and grief rips out your heart and leaves you empty.”
“I do.” She said as tears welled in her eyes.
“I loved her with all my heart. You do know that don’t you. Oh say you do.” He begged.
“I know you do. I did too.” Pearlie stepped toward the window and looked out. “I…I mean we were in love.”
“What!” Louis bolted toward Pearlie and spun her about. “What do you mean you were in love?”
“We have been friends since we were little girls and in time it only seemed natural for us to share in each other’s love. We had to keep it a secret.”
“Son of a bitch!” Louis poured and drank another glass of whiskey.
“I will not apologize for our love. I am not sorry.”
“I think you should go.”
“But Louis we should talk.”
“I said leave!”
“Louis.”
“Now!”
Louis Deppen sat in a large brown leather high back chair. On the table next to him was the decanter of whiskey, his glass, and several opened letters. In his lap was a Beretta. As he filled his glass with the spirits, he picked up the letters. Tears trickled down his face while he started to read the letters. He downed his drink and pulled a hand written note out of his pocket. He raised a gun to his head, and, with one last breath he pulled the trigger and fell limp in the chair. The note fell to the ground and only read:

“I didn’t mean to kill her. I loved her.”

* * *

Alton Mcfarlane watched as the shadow of the Christmas tree in Monument Square stretch out from the morning sun. A small pile of cigarette butts lay next to him as he lit another one. He reached into his bomber jacket and pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. The phone rang several times before there was an answer.
“Hello. Steven Buchs, how can I help you?”
“Steve, its Alton.”
“Alton! Good to hear from you. You have been MIA for too long. How have you been?”
Alton looked at his bank statement. Gritting his teeth, he steadied himself as he expected the worst.
“Not so hot. I just checked my account and the last deposit wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“Let me look up your info and figure what is going on with your account. Give me a second.”
Across the way Alton noticed a mother and her two children. The children wore only sweater and a thin coat while the mother had on a long sleeve shirt. They looked to be waiting for the next bus, though when it came they did not get on it. As he approached them a car pulled along side and she went to talk to the driver. He paused and saw her pointing to her children. He could see something wasn’t right, the driver became angry and took off.
“Pardon me.” Alton said.
“What do you want?” She replied thinking here is someone else looking to take advantage of her.
“I hope I am not intruding but…”
“But what?”
“It appears things are a bit rough for you and your kids. I thought…”
“You thought what? That I can’t take care of us, men are all alike.”
“Damn miss you are as stubborn as cock-eyed mule. Since it is the season for giving I just wanted to give you some money.”
“What do I have to do for it?”
“Nothing.”
A voice returned to his phone.
“Alton.”
“Just a second, Steve.”
Alton pulls out some money from his coat and gives it to her.
“Merry Christmas!”
“That’s all. Just like that you’re just giving me money?”
“’Tis the season.”
Alton walked away and returned his attention to his phone.
“Steve, what did you find?”
“It was a clerical error in your favor. So, taking care of the less fortunate I hear. You do have a big heart.”
“Well that is good news and her and her kids look like they haven’t eaten in a week. Figure it is a good way to build Karma. When will the deposit be made? ”
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“The woman that does the accounting is leaving soon. I can get her to write a check and I will personally deliver it to you. Where are you staying?”
“I am renting a condo in Portland.”
“If I leave now I can beat this morning Boston traffic and get there a little afternoon, plenty of time for you to go to the bank before they close. Where are you going to be?”
“There is a pub around the corner that serves brunch.”
“And cocktails?”
“You know I am a writer.”
“Must be nice to do what you want. Well good for you. When I am passing York I will call you. So, is everything else okay?”
“Not really.”
“Around noon we can meet at Monument Square on Congress Street. Do you know the place?”
“I know the place. Alton, you do not need to worry about this check business, I will take care of it. Shit, I need to go if I am going to beat this traffic. So, till then, relax and we’ll talk later.”
“Sounds good, Steve. Drive safe.”
“I will. See you soon.”
The bells of the First Presbyterian Church rang out a dozen times. Alton looked at his watch and realized he was late for his meeting. He quickly drank his bourbon and left the pub. As he crossed the street to the square his phone vibrated.
“Hello Alton.” The voice on the phone said.
“Hi Steve, I am on the north side of the square. Where are you?”
“I am behind you.”
Alton turned with surprise. His friend, Steve, walked up and the two hugged as long lost friends do.
“Hey Steve, glad you could make it.”
“Me too. The traffic was bad until I was damn near in New Hampshire.”
“I don’t want to come off as rude, but do you have my check? My bank is right over there.”
Alton pointed to a sleek geometric stone fortress reminiscent of the stepped buildings of New York. The simple fluted façade, broken only by terra-cotta reliefs of men and women depicting truth, knowledge, industry, labor, and commerce and bounty, flanked the contours of its main entrance.
“You’re to the point. I guess I am just Mr. Money Bags to you. Seriously, hope everything is okay. Well, I do have it and the better news is you’ll have a jolly Christmas this year. Now let’s take care of this because I want to spend some time up here with a good friend. Alton let business worry about business.”
Moments later Alton emerged from the bank wearing a broad smile.
“I guess that went well for you. You sounded pretty gloomy on the phone, are you good?”
“I’m good. Where do you want to get lunch?”
“There’s a corner market that makes killer Italians.”
“Sounds good to me. Lead the way.”
“What do you think of Maine?”
“Love it here, though it is a hot one today.”
“What is it about 40 degrees? I’ve been meaning to ask you what brings you up to these parts.”
“Some of us like the cold.”
“Imagine that a Florida boy liking Mainer life. So, what did you want to talk about?”
“I am worried about my book sales.”
“Let me reassure you again that this is a job. The more you write the more I can take to the publisher. And speaking of which, where are you with your new project?”
“It is coming alone but I am killing a small forest with pages of bad ideas. Making me feel more stressed.”
“Relax. Tell you what. I know a bed and breakfast near the mountains. It is out of the way, about three hours north of here, but worth the effort in the relaxation you receive. They even have a wood fired whirlpool. And even though it is self-reliant, she has her charming class.”
“I don’t suppose you have a number?”
“I know I sound like a commercial, I don’t carry their number on me. I’ll call home and get it from Jessie.”
“How is Jessie?”
“She’s good.”
“What do you mean self-reliant? Do they slaughter their own cow?”
“Nah. A few years ago they upgraded the place. Installed a couple wind turbines, remodeled the whole place, and they have enough water to last a year. Sometimes, though not often, they get hit with a nasty blizzard. Just buries the place.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It is when the place is full of party animals.”
“I you know when they are there I suppose. How big is it?”
“It’s a twelve bedroom log home style lodge.”
“Rustic.”
“Give it a shot and I know you will go back.”
The waitress delivered their Italians and two cold beers. “Can I get anything else for you gentlemen?”
“Not right now. Thank you, Maggie.” Alton replied.
“So, Alton, tell what is really gnawing at you.”
“You know I lost Olivia a year ago and that got me thinking, life is so very precious. All we have are capricious moments stewing in an empyrean cauldron. I know I need to let her go and find someone to fill that empty place, but …” Alton trailed and gazed out the windows at the people huddled from the cold. Light snow begun to fall. His eyes traced each snow flake on its journey from the sky to the ground where it melted with the other snow flakes.
Steve interrupted. “Quit making excuses for yourself. Let me put it this way. Shit happens, but you don’t have to stand it.”
Alton returned his attention to Steve and said. “Eloquent.”
“Point made, though?”
“Point made.”
“As far as finding someone goes everyone wants to be loved. It is one of those awkward things along the lines of shit happens. I have found that the best cure for melancholia is to just love again, even if it is a one time engagement. I should go back to Boston tonight, but I want to take you out tonight. There’s a nightclub not far from your hotel. We’ll go back there and I’ll get a room. We will meet for later for dinner then go to that night club for some laughs and drinks. And who knows who’ll be there. If it is dead, then we’ll hit the other clubs. To get you laid will be our mission.”
“What about Jenny? Won’t she get pissed if you’re out getting pissed?”
“Don’t worry about Jenny. She knows I am up here to see you. When I get my room I will call her let her know what I am doing. Besides, she’ll get a kick out of it. You know she is very fond of you too, and a bit worried. She is the one who insisted I ask you to be the best man, which I was going to do anyway.”
“Tell me, do you still carry an overnight bag with you everywhere you go?”
“Since I travel frequently I feel better safe than sorry. A habit I started back in college. It was one of those life-long lessons I learned from all those spontaneous road-trips we used to take on the spur of the moment.”
“They were fun times.”
“Do you remember that one trip we took where all we had was a few bucks for gas, a couple 30-packs, and some weed? We jumped onto 95 and headed south to nowhere, ended up in some two-horse town.”
“Vaguely. I guess we had a good time.”
“They say if you don’t remember the party it must have been a blast.”
“So they say.”

Alton awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache and sour stomach. He eased out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen where he found the hair of the dog. As he hovered over the sink he tried to recall last night’s events, it was a search through the fog for a dimly lit candle. He remembered Steve and the money, the night on the town, and his departed wife, Jessie. Maybe the best cure for a broken heart is to love again, he thought. “Where’s that number?” he mumbled to himself. He held his head as his half-cracked blood strewn eyes looked about the apartment. When the phone rang it sounded in his head as a church bell tolling for the deceased. To end the agony, he scurried to the phone and answered it.
“Hello.”
“Alton…” The voice said.
“Not so loudly, Steve.”
“Been bitten have we?”
“Funny.”
“I am just calling you to see how you are feeling? You were pretty nuts last night. So, what was her name?”
“Who’s name?”
“The girl from the Copper Mug, a blond I believe.”
Slowly more of last nights events came back to him. Alton walked back into his bedroom and saw a body under the blankets. “I don’t remember.”
“Don’t tell me she’s there and you have no idea what her name is. You are always a fun time.”
“Do you know?”
The woman in the bed pulled back the blanket to reveal her face and asked “Do I know what?”
“Nothing, dear. Go back to sleep.”
“Alton, it is noon.” Alton could hear Steve’s laughter.
“Oh shit. It is noon.”
“Noon?” The girl exclaimed. “I have got to go.” She raced to get dressed as Alton took his call into the living room.
“So, did you call to have a laugh on my account?”
“Not at all. I called to remind you to call Moose River.”
“I was looking for that number when you called.”
“Did you find it?”
“No!”
“I’ll give it to you again. Got a pen?”
While Alton searched for a pen the woman came out of the bedroom and kissed him on the cheek. “I have a splendid time. Maybe our paths will cross again. Who knows?”
“Yeah, right. Who knows?”
When the door closed Alton scribbled the number and directions to Moose River Bed and Breakfast.
“Be sure to call them as soon as you can. They book up quickly on their extended week-end get-a-ways.”
“I’ll be sure to do that. So, what was her name?”
“Beats me. But, it was like you two kids knew each other for some time. It made my heart melt. I need to get back to Boston as soon as I can. Hey, listen have a good time and call me when you get back into town.”
“Thanks, Steve. I will.”
For the rest of the day Alton spent his time in between packing and trying to remember who she was.