The River Rolls On (Bellingwood Book 10) (20 page)

"But?"

"But I'll try to be better about my limitations. If you tell me I shouldn't go somewhere, I won't."

"Please don't stop asking us, though. Gerry and I think that this morning's near encounter was a fluke. And they didn't get close enough to threaten you."

"But they got to the donkeys."

"They're ducking in and out like little boys who don't want to get caught. They know they can't get close to you, so they're trying to scare you."

"It's working."

"I know, but we're here. We've got your back."

Polly took another drink of her punch, screwed up her courage and said, "I have a strange question for you."

"Okay..."

"The only exposure I have to serial killers is from television and movies..."

Tonya rolled her eyes.

"I know, but they always talk about how serial killers escalate and it gets bad before they get caught. If this Allendar doesn't get caught, how bad is it going to get?"

Tonya thought for a moment and then said, "First of all, television shows have to tell an exciting story and their killers have a huge background built. Secondly, not all serial killers are as smart as Ted Bundy and the few others that make national news. This guy isn't at the top of the list of intelligent killers. He's gotten away with it because he uses people who are willing to be led. He preys on weak-minded fools like this Delancy fellow. He's making mistakes right now. When you escaped, he should have left the area. Even though there are places for him to hide, the FBI and the local police and sheriff offices and the Department of Criminal Investigation ... they're all looking for him."

Polly nodded. "And this is Iowa. At some point, some farmer is going to recognize that he and Joey are out of place, they'll put it together with all of the gossip, and make a call."

"Exactly. But remember, Allendar doesn't want to panic or escalate or do anything that will get him caught. He craves the power he has over Delancy. If Delancy is caught, Allendar will move on until he finds someone else to control. Otherwise, when Delancy tries to break away, Allendar will kill him and then move on."

"So the only reason those two are focused on me is because of Joey - not the actual serial killer."

"That's right," Tonya said, nodding.

Polly looked up when Lydia replaced the glass in her hand with a full one. "Is this one spiked, too?" she asked.

Lydia grinned. "I'm not telling. The line is down, do you girls want to eat?"

Polly stretched and flicked her foot in the pool. "I think I'm fine for now. Maybe I'll just drink my supper tonight."

"Would you like me to bring you a plate?" Tonya asked.

Polly chuckled. "You're my bodyguard, not my maid. But thanks. I'll get something later." She reached her hand up to pull Lydia's plate down so she could see its contents. "What's for dinner, anyway?"

Lydia pulled her plate back up. "You get your own. There are burgers, hot dogs and brats."

"But my feet are so comfy," Polly said.

"Fine. Have mine." Lydia put her plate in Polly's lap, causing Polly to jump up with it in her hand.

"No, I was kidding." Then Polly saw the ornery look on Lydia's face. "You're mean to me. I was going to go later." She handed the plate back and slunk out to the hallway and got in line.

Beryl came up behind her. "I would have brought you a plate."

"Nah. Lydia offered me hers. Who needs that guilt?"

When Sylvie saw Polly, she ducked under the counter and came up with a plastic sand bucket. "You're the only one who looks out of place," Sylvie declared. "Fix it."

Polly put on a pair of yellow over-sized sunglasses and dropped the rubber flip flops to the floor so she could slip her feet into them. She pulled the visor over her head and held up the snorkel. "What am I supposed to do with this ... or this?" She had just put her hands on a rubber ducky.

Sylvie shrugged. "They're yours now. Burger or hot dog?"

"Burger, please. When did you plan this?"

Beryl bumped Polly's shoulder with her own. "No questions. You just enjoy the evening."

Rachel filled Polly's plate with cole slaw, potato salad, baked beans and a roll and Polly went back into the auditorium. Lydia waved and pointed to two empty seats beside her.

"How are you, Polly?" Angela Boehm, the Methodist pastor's wife was sitting with Lydia and Andy.

"Fine, thanks." Polly sat down beside Lydia.

"Angela and her husband are moving this summer," Lydia said with a sigh. "Just about the time I start enjoying a pastor and his family, they move."

"You don't have any say?" Polly asked.

"We always do, but the Conference asked Del to help a church in northwest Iowa. Their pastor died the day before Christmas."

"That's awful," Polly said.

"It's been hard on everyone. His family stayed in the parsonage for the last five months while the kids finished school and his wife came to grips with it all. Two retired pastors have taken care of things during the transition, but now they need someone to come in and offer stability and an opportunity for the church to heal."

Lydia frowned. "I wish they didn't need you and I wish they'd tell us who will be appointed in Bellingwood."

Angela patted Lydia's knee. "All in good time. I'm sure you will love the new family and they will love you, just like we have." She winked at Polly. "But I'm not sure that they'll know quite what to do with you."

Polly laughed. "What do you mean?"

"It isn't every town in Iowa that sports a celebrity quite like you," Angela said with a smile.

Beryl stuck her head forward and whispered loudly. "She means dead bodies."

"I get it," Polly said, wrinkling her nose at Beryl. "Maybe we don't tell them."

"I have a reason for bringing this up," Lydia said. "There are some big renovations the board wants to do at the parsonage. Usually there are only a few days between one pastor moving in and the other moving out. I thought I'd talk to you about letting Del and Angela move into the hotel the week before they're to leave town."

Polly smiled at her friend. "Of course. Whenever you're ready."

Angela nodded. "Thank you. We moved into a town once and they were still working on the kitchen floor when we got there. Then, the chair of the board told us that the upstairs bathroom didn't work and the attic was leaking. We had to rent an RV for six months before we could finally move in. It was a mess. Del kept insisting that if they would just let us in, he'd do the work." She shook her head. "It probably would have been faster and cheaper if they'd built a new parsonage." Then she laughed. "They built that new parsonage two years after we left. The next pastor wouldn't put up with it."

Polly looked around the room. It was good to listen to people talk about the things that were happening in their own lives. Kayla and Rebecca were sitting in a pool and eating hot dogs, Rachel and Sylvie had come into the room. Sylvie was laughing with Joss and Sal while Rachel had joined Stephanie and Jessie. The three young girls were laughing at the baby's antics.

Jean Gardner had corralled Polly's mail woman, Lisa Bradford, and other women that Polly had met through Lydia or gotten to know in town were at tables around the room, laughing and talking with each other. They were here to remind her that the town was bigger than a terrorizing serial killer, but what they didn't know they were telling her was that life continued no matter what.

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Friends like that make this much easier," Polly said.

"Did you have a good time?" Henry asked. Polly was nestled into his arms in bed. It was late - much later than she'd expected to be up.

"I did. And I like the way they involve everyone in things like this. Did you know that Lisa Bradford's sister works for NASA? That's so cool. And Rebecca's teacher, Mrs. Hastings was here for a while. She has an uncle who used to work in the kitchen at the White House." She turned to face him. "I don't have anyone interesting like that."

"You just don't know about them."

Polly nodded. "That's true. I wonder if I would ever have taken the time to ask Dad about these things if he'd lived longer."

Henry pulled her closer. "I haven't talked to my parents about those things either. We assume they'll live forever."

"But they don't. And then everything they know is gone."

"Maybe you need to talk to your uncle."

She bristled. "It's probably going to have to be lost information, then."

"Polly." His tone was scolding, but she knew he understood. They'd talked through this many times. Her relationship with her father's brother was never going to be easy ... no matter how hard she tried. And she wasn't trying right now.

"Maybe someday." She chuckled and said, "Sal tells me that you might be getting tired of her. Is she bugging you that much?"

"Nah. She's fine. With you out of the picture, she shows up during the day more often, worrying over details, but it's okay."

"How long do you think until the coffee shop is ready to open?"

"I dunno," he said. "We could probably have the coffee shop part of it open in three weeks. Dad's installing the bar tomorrow. Then it's up to her and you to get the rest of the place put together."

"We have a few tables and chairs in the storage unit."

Henry moved out from under her.

"What? Am I too heavy for you?"

"No, my arm went to sleep." He turned to face her. "We can have my guys get those and bring them over. Do you have enough?"

"Enough to get started. What about the bakery?"             

"That's going to take more work. It will all be installed in the next few weeks."

"I can't believe we're almost there. This is going to be real."

Henry laughed. "I'm glad it's nearly finished. We're getting busy again. I bid on a new apartment complex out past the winery. Pretty sure we're going to get it. Nate is ready for us to dig in on his place and there's a knick-knacky store that wants us to bid on building out another space downtown."

"So I'm about to never see you again?"

He hugged her close. "I'll be around. And one of these days you'll be so busy, you're going to be the one who's never available."

Polly put her head back on her pillow. "It was nice of people to do this for me tonight, but I'm done with this. I want to go back to helping other people and doing things for them."

"I know that." His eyes fluttered shut.

"I'm sorry. You sleep. I'm still wired so I'm going to read."

"Come here," he said and waited until she turned her back to him before snuggling around her. "You read, I'll rest my eyes."

Polly reflected back on the evening as she thumbed through the pages of her book. She'd stayed to help clean after the bulk of the group was gone. Henry had come downstairs and Len Specek had come to pick up Andy. She smiled at how happy those two were together. Andy giggled like a high schooler when she talked about him.

They were leaving at the end of the week for Spain to spend time with Len's daughter, Ellen, in Barcelona. Andy was both terrified and excited out of her mind. She couldn't wait, but it had been so long since she'd done any traveling, she worried about every small thing. There was nothing to be said to calm her down either. She was going despite her fear and promised to relax once she was solidly and firmly on European soil.

Ellen was planning to spend several days with them and then they were off to Paris. Len promised Andy that they didn't have to hurry to see everything on this trip. Barcelona and Paris were enough. They'd go back again and see any part of Europe she wanted to visit.

Polly hoped they had a wonderful time and returned with pictures and stories. She had no desire to travel to Europe, but if Henry wanted to, she'd go. He hadn't reacted when Andy and Len described their trip. For that, she was thankful. Henry always said he'd like to see the United States before worrying about flying across an ocean. He was hinting at a trip to the east coast in the not too distant future. It would be fun for them to go to the historical places that area was so famous for. The only time she'd done touristy things was when her Dad visited. He'd been shocked that she'd never gotten out to Lexington or down to Plymouth, or even out to the Mayflower.

They were just part of the landscape and something Polly knew she'd always have time to visit. She visited when he insisted and was glad for it, now that she was back in Iowa.

She looked down at the words on the page in front of her. This was one of her favorite books - Asimov's "Foundation." She'd just finished the Robot series. How many times had she read these stories? The copy she had in her hand was one she'd found in a thrift store in Des Moines when she was in high school.

Her dad had said nothing that day, he just offered to carry the bags of books she'd purchased. They'd gone down to watch several of her friends play basketball in the state tournament, but Polly had done research on the best places to buy used books. Everett had said she could choose two stores and that was it. In the first, he struck up a conversation with the owner while Polly wandered in and out of the shelves. They were playing a game of checkers when she arrived at the counter with her first load of books. Her dad had stood, thinking it was time to go and then shook his head when she told him she'd just started.

A tear leaked from her eye as she realized how fortunate she'd been to have him. How many fathers would let their daughter wander a used book store for hours and not complain? They'd stopped for tacos that day. He always made her feel like the time he spent with her was more important than anything else. She missed him.

Polly scooted away from Henry to put her book back on the table beside the bed and turn off the light. When she settled back onto her pillow, Henry whispered. "You were thinking pretty hard."

"Why are you still awake?"

"Your brain was putting out so many waves, I couldn't sleep."

"I'll bet I can fix that," she said, teasing.

"I'll take that bet. If I lose, I win."

~~~

When Polly's phone rang, she jumped, sending both cats to the floor. Henry sat up. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just a minute." She picked up her phone, swiped it open and swore. "It's Evelyn downstairs."

"Hello, Evelyn," Polly said. "What's up?"

"It's time. Sarah asked for you."

Polly breathed deeply and said, "I'll be right there."

"Tonight?" Henry asked.

"I think so. Sarah asked for me." She was already swinging her legs out of bed.

"Do you need me to be there?"

Polly leaned back and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, but no. Maybe take time with Rebecca in the morning after this is over, but we'll be fine for now."

"Don't worry about calling if you need me," he said. "I'll come right down."

Polly found her jeans and pulled a sweatshirt on, then slipped into the flip flops from the party. "You boys stay here," she said to the dogs who, in their confusion, headed for the door.

Han barked and Obiwan sat down.

"Han, come," Henry commanded. The younger dog slunk back over to the bed. Henry said his name again and Han jumped up, then sat at the edge of the bed, watching Polly.

She slipped out into the living room and headed for the main door. Obiwan whined at her once more.

"Okay, you can come. In fact, maybe that's a good idea." She turned to face the bedroom. "I'm taking Obiwan with me."

"Okay," he said.

They went downstairs and crossed the darkened foyer to the addition with the help of the flashlight on Polly's phone. She knocked quietly on Sarah Heater's door and went in.

Rebecca was sitting in a chair beside her mother's bed, holding Sarah's hand. Tears streamed down her face when she saw Polly. Obiwan walked right over to the girl and put his head in her lap, as if he understood what she needed.

Evelyn nodded at Polly, who went to the other side of Sarah's bed.

"I'm here, Sarah," Polly said. "Everything's okay. I brought Obiwan and he's loving on Rebecca right now."

Sarah moved her hand toward Polly. She took it between her two hands. There was so little energy left in the woman, but Sarah gave her a slight squeeze.

Polly looked at Rebecca, "How are you doing, honey?"

"I'm okay. She's so tired. I told her that it was okay if she died tonight. I don't want her to hurt anymore."

"That's good," Polly said.

Sarah's lips moved and Polly stood and moved closer so she could hear the woman speak. "Love you," the woman whispered.

"We love you, too, Sarah. It's okay for you to go now. Henry and I will always love your daughter. She's safe with us."

Sarah nodded and turned to Rebecca. The girl stood as well and threw her arms around her mother. "I love you, mommy," Rebecca said. "I'll miss you so much, but you have to go now. You can't stay any longer. I know that. I love you."

It broke Polly's heart to see this child be an adult. She'd had to grow up this last year, faster than anyone wanted her to, but Sarah had done a wonderful job with Rebecca. She was still able to love and be happy, even in the midst of her grief and sorrow."

Sarah relaxed and her breath caught. Both Polly and Rebecca held theirs until she took another breath. It went on that way for a few minutes and Polly finally sat down again. Rebecca looked at her in confusion.

"Go ahead," Evelyn said. "This could be a while. Our bodies don't always give up so easily."

Rebecca sat back down and Evelyn stood over her, quietly stroking her hair. Obiwan was lying on the floor beside Rebecca.

They quietly watched and waited. Every once in a while, Sarah stopped breathing, but started again. It was maddening to watch. Polly kept a close eye on Rebecca. She was completely exhausted, her face was drawn. Her shoulders slumped as she watched her mother expectantly.

After an hour passed, Polly stood and wandered around the room, her nerves raw. She couldn't imagine what Rebecca was experiencing. There were a few photographs in the room. She was glad to see that there were some from the last few weeks of Sarah and Rebecca together.

Polly picked one photo up and showed it to Rebecca. It was a picture of Rebecca standing at her mother's side, with bunny ears over Sarah's head. The two were laughing at the camera. These were the moments that Rebecca would want to remember someday.

There were only two photographs of Polly's mother just before her death. Polly was in both of them. Her father had taken them. While it was difficult remembering her mother that way, it was also the last memories she had before the funeral.

In one of the pictures, she was laughing out loud. Polly remembered that moment with great clarity. A college friend of her father's had stopped in to wish them well and told stories of learning to ski. He painted a hilarious picture of his complete failure to learn, tumbling down the slopes, picking up snow as he went. He'd worn blue jeans because he wasn't investing in ski apparel, and she remembered him telling them how they'd gotten heavier and heavier as his legs got more and more tired trying to get down that mountain in Colorado. A forty-five minute run had taken him four hours. He'd told the story in order to entertain them and her father had finally closed the hospital room door because they were all laughing so loud.

That same friend had come to her father's funeral and done the same thing. Mary and Sylvester had invited him out to the house when he'd arrived in town and they'd stayed up late, listening as he told stories about Everett Giller. Polly hadn't laughed so hard in months. At one point, she'd had to stretch out on the floor, her ribs hurt so badly.