133
THE PARAGON
PUBLISHED BY LEE HARGUS HUNTER
SMASHWORDS EDITION
2009
THE PARAGON
Copyright Lee Hargus Hunter 2009
THE PARAGON
BY LEE HARGUS HUNTER
FOREWARD:
A gentle sleep consumed her being; it was the encompassing sleep of a woman whose dreams have all been fulfilled. A warm glow slowly engulfed her body as a kaleidoscope of images drifted back and forth just beyond her consciousness.
The swirling panorama included the smiling faces of wedding guests circling inside her head. Del's handsome, kindly face smiled lovingly as she glided toward him down the aisle. Her subconscious kept replaying this one scene, burning it deeper and deeper into her memory. She loved him so much. She tried to speak his name but deeper sleep overcame her, making her its prisoner, dragging her deeper into the dark cave of slumber.
She strained to hear his breathing beside her but the deafening blanket of drowsiness prevailed, wrapping her again and again into a quiet, dark cocoon.
Once more the dream of their wedding last night passed through her sub-consciousness. A cluster of imported wind chimes tinkled through the ballroom as the attendant opened the large French doors. Again, Del's planning had been perfect. He spent several hours setting the timing of the ceiling fan and the opening of the doors. A murmur of surprise rippled through the gathering as the chimes tinkled and the lights went up.
Amy entered the ballroom expecting to see only the mass of greenery she and the florist had planned behind an improvised altar. She did not want the decorations to appear too ostentatious. Amy wanted something simple yet lovely. A giggle of delighted surprise escaped her lips as she stepped through the double doors of the ballroom on the arm of her attorney, Keith Walton. He was a lifelong friend of Amy and trusted confidant of her grandfather, and had asked to give her away. She had not a single living relative and felt very close to Keith. Since she was a teenager he had counseled and guided her. Her grandfather had chosen well. The attorney was still in his fifties and would be around a long time as her advisor.
She paused for a moment enjoying the beauty before her. African violets massed behind the altar in a rainbow of colors. Several hundred pots of blossoms in every shade climbed daintily up the rows of risers behind the candlelit ferns creating a picture she would always treasure. Del had learned they were her favorite flowers. It had been such luck that he chose violets to send her that day at the library. “It's fate,” he assured her.
“Where in the world did he find so many violets for our wedding day?” she wondered. Later, during the reception, Del invited each guest to select one of the plants to take home as a remembrance of their special day.
Amy was so impressed with Del’s efficiency. He had been able to arrange all of the details so quickly. She had found the small town boys boring during her high school years. Her busy schedule at the exclusive all women’s college had left little time for dating. Since graduation her job at the library had enabled her to meet a number of men but none had interested her until she met Del.
She aroused slightly for a moment and attempted to reach forward across her pillow to touch Del but was again overcome by the deep sleep and a strange weakness. She discovered she could not recall anything past drinking that last toast to their future. Del had insisted upon it even after she told him she really didn’t like the champagne. Now she was overwhelmed both mentally and physically. Her hand refused her efforts to raise it. Was it possible she was allergic to the drink? She must find a way to fight this strange effect and regain her senses. How could a few sips of champagne have such long lasting and strange effects? For just a moment she thought of her best friend Claire and tried to picture her but found her mind was blank. “I’m losing my senses,” she cried to herself but was still unable to make a sound.
“It has to be the effects of the champagne,” she mused through the haze. She normally never drank alcoholic beverages but Dell had insisted on opening a bottle of rare vintage once they reached their room at the lodge. During the reception, she had only sipped the special non-alcoholic punch she had requested for one of the tables. Many of her friends were also non-drinkers. A special alcoholic bar was set up to one side. Champagne and fruit punch were fine for some folks but the old timers from the ranches wanted their bourbon and beer.
Del had provided everything and the guests enjoyed a wonderful time. They were all impressed with his generosity and thoughtfulness. The out of town invitees were his guests at the “The Gathering Place,” the very prestigious hotel where the ceremony and reception were held. Amy had invited all of her grandfather's neighbors and friends from the Mineral Wells area. She wanted them there for two reasons. First of all, she had grown up with these people who were like family to her. Secondly, if things worked out, someday she and Del would live among them.
The faces of her friends kept floating through her mind but now she no longer recognized anyone. She tried to calm herself by thinking of Del. She had only known him for six weeks and yet he seemed to know her every wish. Amy dreamed off and on about these wonderful last weeks. Disconnected memories floated through her dreams like darting butterflies in no particular order. She wanted to continue sleeping and dreaming but something kept nagging her to wake up. She realized she was losing her fight for consciousness.
Suddenly she felt afraid and wished for her grandfather. As a child she was very afraid of the dark. He would come and sit by her bed and hear her prayers. Then he would recite a little rhyme that always comforted her and soon she felt calm and would fall asleep. What was that little rhyme? She concentrated so hard her head hurt but could not recall the words. Finally deep sleep conquered her again.
After a short while passed, Amy stirred from the deep sleep that consumed her. For a few seconds she was fully awake. She felt strange somehow, almost detached from reality. She feared she was going to die. She prayed again to God for help. She must find something to concentrate on and remain conscious. Again she thought of her grandfather and suddenly she recalled the first line of his little bedtime rhyme. “Winkam and Blnkam and Nod one night”- and could remember nothing more. Frantically she repeated it over and over in her mind. Tears ran down her face as she tried so hard to recall the words.
The faint nausea she had been feeling now overwhelmed her. She had never felt so sick in her life but she was too weak to vomit. She forced herself to repeat the words of the little rhyme over and over. She must not let go. Now she was too sick and too agitated to sleep.
She relaxed a moment and suddenly the words of the next line came to her. Of course - “Sailed off in a wooden shoe”. She felt her grandfather was near, prompting her, calling to her. If he were there she would be all right.
Suddenly Amy was conscious of the soft pillow beneath her face. She remembered the beautiful room where they spent their wedding night.
Amy remembered Del carrying her across the threshold of their suite. She had loved the beautiful room. He had thought of every little detail. He had even ordered smooth blue satin sheets and matching pillow cases for the king sized bed. She remembered how smooth and sensual it had felt against her skin. She felt like a princess. Her right hand touched the sheet lovingly and she was suddenly startled. Something was wrong here. Amy was an accomplished musician and her sensitive fingers felt a coarse woven pattern in the material. It felt like some type of damask instead of smooth satin. Alarmed, she tried again to call Del's name but once again, the heavy drowsiness overcame her and she drifted back into deep slumber.
A strange feeling of movement prodded at her mind. Some little voice inside was calling her to wake up at once. She wanted to reach over and touch Del but still could not raise her arm. Frantically she tried again to call his name but only made the slightest noise. “I will never, ever again drink champagne no matter what the occasion,” she vowed to herself. A feeling of nausea crept up her throat again. It was almost as if the bed were swaying a little. She must be dreaming but she knew she was now fully awake. She tried once more to recall the words of the little bedtime rhyme. Haltingly the words came: “Winkam and Blinkam and Nod one night, sailed off in a wooden shoe, On a river of crystal light-.” But nothing else came to her.
There was a sudden bouncing, a rolling movement that didn't make sense. She swallowed hard and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. What happened to the air conditioning? It was suddenly getting quite warm. “Hold on, don’t panic,” she told herself. Again she prayed to God for help and deliverance from this awful experience. Finally with great effort she was able to raise her arm. She reached forward to place it around Del but felt only the knobby pattern of the sheet. She managed to roll over and reach to the far side. Her hand came in contact with some kind of barrier-almost like a curved wall. Where was she? Where was Del? What was going on? She tried to scream but only a dry choking sound came from her throat as she lost consciousness.
CHAPTER ONE: OCTOBER 3, 2004, RETURNING HOME
Amy couldn’t postpone it any longer. Endless details needed to be taken care of. She owed it to her grandfather’s memory to be prompt and considerate of the many people involved.
Andy, the young lawyer who was assisting Keith with her grandfather’s estate, had been very helpful. He provided her with several lists of ideas and suggestions and assured her everything was in order. Now Amy must attend to her new responsibilities.
She always knew her grandfather was a wealthy man but not that he was a multi-millionaire. He sometimes teased her about studying Library Science instead of accounting. “Someday you will have many decisions to make,” he reminded her and then added, “But of course you will be able to hire accountants.”
Her apartment was just off I-20 near the Duncanville exit. After graduating from college she chose this location because it was a quick ninety-minute drive to the ranch and less than fifteen minutes to the public library where she was assigned.
The bright morning sun quickly stole the chill from the gentle morning breeze. Autumn in Texas could be beautiful. This was her favorite time of year for riding around the lake with her grandfather. The sudden knot in her throat reminded her of another truth she must face. There would be no more of the horseback rides with him she had treasured since childhood. She swallowed hard, suppressing the tears.
She eased onto the interstate and zoomed around Ft. Worth and its mushrooming developments. Always before, she had looked forward to arriving at the Middle Tree Ranch. She felt the tension forming in her body. Today there would be no one to greet her except Mrs. Olson, the housekeeper and old Frankie, an aging canine of unknown heritage. Her grandfather had named him Frankie after some long gone crooner because he often stood and howled at the moon.
Middle Tree Ranch was about ten miles southeast of Mineral Wells on Old Millsap Road. Amy slowed as she exited onto the two lane black top that would take her to the ranch. It had been six weeks since her grandfather’s death. It still felt like a bad dream. Once all the ceremonies and formalities had been observed, Amy was engulfed in the details of her grandfather’s wide spread business interests.
Amy took a leave of absence from her librarian’s position. Everyone seemed to expect her to resign. They incorrectly assumed she would just sit around spending money and leading the life of a rich do-nothing. Well, Amy had other ideas.
She enjoyed her work at the library. She met many interesting people there. Among them were some whom she could help anonymously. Early in life she had learned that it was important to help people in such a way as to preserve their self-esteem. She had asked Andy to prepare a proposal for a non-profit organization for her use.
She smiled as she thought of Mrs. Carter. The woman brought her bright young son to the library every Saturday to use the computers. Their worn clothing was always immaculately clean and the boy was very polite. In casual conversations with him, Amy learned his father was disabled, there were three younger children at home, and there was little chance they would ever have a computer. He was in an advanced science program at his middle school. Mrs. Carter had recently appeared alone at the library to share the most startling news. An anonymous donor had given her family a computer, a printer, and ten years of Internet service. “Yes,” Amy sighed, “I must always be alert to other people’s needs.”
In the meantime there were decisions to be made about the ranch. Should she keep the house open and staffed? How often would she be coming here now? Even old Frankie must be provided for. She shook her head resignedly as she turned down the cedar-lined lane and drove the half-mile to the house.
She fought back the tears again as she spotted the one empty spot in the tree lined lane. When her grandfather was a boy he and his father had transplanted the wild cedars along this road. They had all lived and made a beautiful entry through the parched pasture. When her grandfather was a teen-ager a terrible thunderstorm came through the area and lightening struck one of the trees. The tree, its roots, and the earth around it were blackened and pulverized into silken soot. All efforts to get another tree to grow in its spot failed and were finally given up. Amy took a deep breath. Everywhere she looked there were sudden memories. “Dear God, help me get through all of this.”
Mrs. Olson was hand watering several pots of yellow mums alongside the porch steps, probably leftovers from the memorial service. She sat the watering can down and walked toward Amy’s car. Amy noticed she was walking with a slight limp. Her arthritis must be acting up again.
After a tearful embrace, the two women walked slowly into the old ranch house. Its outward appearance was deceiving. The sun-grayed timbers matched the rail fence that surrounded the five acres jokingly referred to as “the front yard.”
Down the road a half-mile away was a smaller house where Amy had been born. She lived there with her parents until that fateful day when she was five. She could still remember the squeal of the sheriff’s brakes as he wheeled his jeep into the yard that Sunday afternoon. Amy and her grandfather were sitting on the porch drinking lemonade and playing checkers while her grandmother knitted nearby. Her parents had gone for a drive in their new truck. “Just checking it out,” she remembered her father saying. She had chosen to stay here with her grandparents.
Her father had grown up on this ranch. He knew its every creek, ravine, and gully. There were some wild back roads frequented only by locals. One particular area was called Dead Man’s Gulch. Teenagers often went there to test each other’s bravery, drag race, and commit other daring and foolish stunts. It was assumed her dad wanted to test his new truck on some of the steep rocky inclines. Two men on horseback heard the roar of an engine and then a crash. They found the truck and the deceased occupants at the bottom of a thirty-foot ravine. The same riders said they had ridden in the area only a few weeks before and did not remember that cliff. It appeared the recent rains had eroded the backside of the hill causing it to break away creating the hazardous rockslide that could not be seen when approached from the east.
“They never knew what happened,” the men later told her grandfather. The spot of the tragedy was posted and was on state lands in a game preserve. Amy’s grandfather sent his ranch hands down there a few days later where they installed six strands of barbed wire fencing around the dangerous spot. She begged to see the place so her grandfather took her there just once. They sat in his pick up truck and gazed at the rows of wire. In years ahead it would become a favorite hang out for kids and their ATV’s who patterned the area with their tracks in all directions around the fenced in area.
“My son loved speed. I guess it is a fitting memorial,” the old man said sadly. Amy’s grandmother died of her grief within a few months leaving Amy and her grandfather alone in the rambling old house.
Mrs. Olson, a widow who did housekeeping and cooking for folks, had become Amy’s live in nanny, teacher, confidant, and friend. She stayed on taking care of her grandfather after Amy went away to college. In recent years he had traveled a lot, mostly going hunting or fishing. Mrs. Olson took care of things while he was away. Now Amy must find a way to take care of Mrs. Olson.
Every modern convenience had been added to the old ranch house including air conditioning, satellite TV, and its own generating system for when the “blue northers” chilled the area and the winds disrupted the local power lines.
The two women sat drinking coffee, making small talk and finally Amy asked the question that caused her heart to ache, “What do you wish to do now? My grandfather has left you an income for the rest of your life. You may live anywhere, go anyplace, and do whatever you wish. He wanted to reward you for the many years you cared for us. What are your wishes?”
Tears filled the elderly woman’s eyes. “I am so grateful. After my son was killed in Desert Storm, I had no one else. This has been my home. I should be thanking you and your grandfather. I have been well paid through the years. Now it is so lonely here and you don’t really need me any longer. There is a small cottage up town just a short walk from the church where I was married so many years ago. I would like to purchase it if it doesn’t cost too much. I could walk to the corner grocery and visit my friend Ella who lives in the nursing home down the street. I am not getting around as well as when I was younger. Do you think I could do that?”
Amy hugged her friend. “You give me the address and I will have my attorney’s take care of it for you. Is there anything else you wish? Are there items here in the house you would like to have?”
“If I could take the furniture from my bedroom it would mean a lot to me.”
“Of course. Is there anything else?”
Mrs. Olson hesitated then said, “I hate to ask but I would love to take Frankie. He will have to go someplace and we’re used to each other. I’d miss him a lot.”
The hardest part had been settled quickly and to Amy’s satisfaction. Now she must arrange something for Jupiter.
He heard her voice and came quickly to the corral fence behind the house. Jupiter and Mars were two fine quarter horses her grandfather had purchased several years ago. Like most working ranches, horses had been mostly replaced by modern equipment at Middle Tree. A total of five horses remained including Jupiter and Mars. Her grandfather had left Mars to Jim Smith, the ranch foreman and longtime friend.
Jim and his family now lived in the house where Amy had been born. Through the years they had added on as their family grew. Now they had three teenage sons who were a big help to their father.
The tapping of a horn alerted Amy to Jim’s arrival. She had spoken to him on the phone regularly since her grandfather’s death. It was a great comfort to Amy that he was such a trusted and capable employee and friend.
Jim assured Amy that he and his sons would continue looking after the horses. “I want them ridden regularly,” Amy insisted.
“That’s hardly a burden for my sons,” Jim smiled. “When you come out and want to go riding, I’m sure one of them would love to ride with you.” Jim was aware of the long rides Amy and her grandfather had always taken and didn’t want her riding alone. Things were changing out here now. There were many strangers in the area and like most old timers Jim wasn’t quick to trust newcomers. He also felt a certain responsibility toward Amy. He owed that to the old man. Besides, just the other day his wife Alice had been out working in her garden when two young punks from the city came roaring up the driveway. Alice said the presence of Serena, their huge Rottweiler, had kept them from getting out of the car. They were asking strange questions about how to get to the lake. That revealed their ignorance since there were several different lakes in the area. Jim decided to visit a friend’s kennel and bring back a pair of good watchdogs and keep them at the main house. Since old Frankie was moving away with Mrs. Olson he’d feel better about things here. They installed a very advanced burglary system last year that would sound an alarm at Jim’s place if anyone broke into the house or barn but that wouldn’t keep punks out of the yard. Jim was determined to keep Amy as safe as possible as he’d once promised her grandfather.
His eyes moistened as he recalled how their relationship began. As a rowdy teenager he’d borrowed the old man’s truck without asking and wrecked it just outside of town one Saturday night. He’d been arrested and figured he’d really messed up his life. Early the next morning the old man bailed him out of jail, dropped all charges, and told him he could work off the damages. He’d worked here on the ranch ever since.
After Jim left Amy walked back through the old house. She could almost hear her grandfather’s chuckle as she paused by his favorite chair. He taught her to always look on the bright side of things, to always do what she felt was right, and to always trust in God and seek his guidance. “Dear God, help me now,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her.
IN A SMALL PENNYSLVANIA COLLEGE LIBRARY:
The student named Jack Blanton noticed the cover on the latest copy of Persons Magazine. Emblazoned in red were the words “Meet the richest young single women in America.”
Inside, the article presented the profiles and photographs of six young women. It announced the recent addition of the sixth one on the list, a young, innocent looking young lady from a small town west of Ft. Worth. Her wealthy grandfather had recently passed away leaving her the only heir to his millions. Jack’s eyebrows arched with excitement. He looked around the college library making certain no one was watching, then took his Swiss Army knife and cut out the article. Later he would slip it into the large brown envelope in the bottom of his desk; the one marked “My Future.”
CHAPTER TWO: NOVEMBER 10, 2004, OLD FRIENDS
Returning to work at the library had given Amy new purpose. She needed the organized routine and kept herself very busy. Her well-filled day timer belied the confusion she sometimes felt. She scheduled regular meetings with her attorneys and the accountants. Jim called each Friday from the ranch. Everything was running smoothly but something was missing. “It’s just that I feel disconnected,” she told herself. She loved her position at the library but now she discovered her mind wandering back to the ranch quite often. It seemed to always be tugging at her. It was after all the only home she had ever known. She must start spending more time there. Amy decided she wanted to spend the weekend at the ranch. She needed to ride through the fields and feel the wind on her face. She missed her horse Jupiter. Poor dear, he probably wondered where she was.
She also needed to contact her best friend April. She had neglected her lately. For years they had been constant companions. She hadn’t seen her but once since the funeral and that was a brief encounter at a card shop in Mineral Wells. Amy had suggested lunch but April said she must hurry home. Her baby sitter would be expecting her before noon. Amy still could not comprehend that April was married and a mother. Well, she would call and arrange to visit her friend and her young son. They would sit and talk for hours as they used to do. Suddenly Amy was filled with excitement. Even while she was away at school the two old friends had kept in close touch.
Amy recalled the excited phone call from April when she and Robert became engaged. They had dated in high school but somehow Amy never expected them to marry. He had seemed a little immature but that was five years ago. Of course Amy had flown home to be in the wedding. Gradually the calls and notes became farther apart as they had both been very busy. Well now Amy would make certain they kept in touch regularly.
She called Jim and told him she would be arriving late Friday afternoon. He reminded her of how to disconnect the alarms and reset them upon entering the house. She shrugged at his concern. Always there had been several people looking after her so she felt very secure.
She stopped at a favorite deli and picked up some ready to eat food. She didn’t see the need to do much cooking just for her self.
Jim had obtained two new watchdogs to guard the ranch house but he had taken them to his place temporarily this afternoon. He would bring them back to meet Amy that evening. He and his sons brought the dogs over soon after she arrived. At first they barked at Amy but settled down after she petted each one. Jim said he wanted one of them left loose and the other one tied to the front porch. The one that was loose would not be apt to run away without the other but would be free and able to approach any intruder. Amy found some dog treats in the pantry and the two were soon wagging their tails happily.
She had phoned April and arranged to visit her the next day. Amy had picked up several stuffed toys for the baby she hoped would be suitable.. What did 5-month-old babies play with anyhow? She hadn’t a clue.
Jim and his sons stopped by again just before dark to feed the dogs. His sons had named the white one Tuffy and the brown one Gruffy. “Now don’t make house pets of them. They are here to guard the place,” Jim cautioned.
Amy’s affection for all animals had been a problem when she was small. She immediately named every one and tried to make pets of them. She was almost grown before she made the connection between the cattle in the holding pens and the beef that filled the Starling dinner table. For several years afterward she would eat only chicken.
Amy made plans to ride early Sunday morning with Jim’s oldest boy they called Doug. “Let’s leave just about sunrise,” she insisted. She would pack a snack breakfast. This would be fun.
She arrived at April and Robert’s place around ten Saturday morning. They had purchased a small truck farm about three miles out from Palo Pinto. They were among the many who now made a living raising melons, the best cash crop in the area. Most of what they raised was shipped into the Dallas/Ft.Worth area. Amy noticed a new truck in the drive way and a fresh coat of paint on the older home. April greeted her looking a little disheveled. “Little Bobby has kept me up all night,” she explained.
Amy tried to interest him in his new toys but to no avail. He wanted his mother and he wanted to be held. His screams drowned out any attempts at conversation. Finally, after almost an hour of crying, he went to sleep.
April poured them each a cup of coffee and then asked Amy how things were going with her. April was obviously tired from lack of sleep. Amy suggested she should leave and allow April to take a nap while the baby slept. Just then Robert came in from the field and asked how soon his lunch would be ready. April muttered something about the baby and her husband scowled as he pointed to their coffee cups on the table. “Yeah, I can see you’ve been real busy,” he yelled at his wife, waking the baby who screamed again loudly.
Amy rose to leave saying, “I can see this isn’t a good time. Call me soon April.”
As she backed out of the driveway she could hear Robert’s voice yelling again, “Do you know what time it is? I always come in to eat at noon.”
Amy felt concern for her friend and disappointment for herself. She had yearned to have a nice visit with her friend, just as they did for so many years. Suddenly she realized they had each changed. April was no longer the carefree young girl she remembered so fondly, the one who constantly giggled at everything. Now she had a hard working, impatient husband and a sick infant. There was no room in her life right now for Amy.
She drove aimlessly around as she had made no further plans for the day. She hadn’t been in this area in quite a while. A new blacktopped road appeared on the right. A small sign indicated it led to a fish camp on the lake. Well, why not investigate? In a few miles she reached the camp that appeared deserted. A one-pump gas station advertised bait on the other side of the road. Several boat trailers stood deserted in the parking lot behind the boat ramp.
As she turned around in the parking lot she caught sight of a beautiful vista; red sandstone spires rose from the blue waters. The temptation was too great. She parked her car and sat watching the ripples on the water as they changed colors in the wind. The only sound was the mechanical bumping of a rowboat tied alongside the dock.
Suddenly Amy felt very alone. Like April, most of her old friends were now married and some had children. Her classmates from college were now scattered all over the country. With a sudden feeling of loss, Amy realized she must forge a new life for herself. She must join some clubs, meet new people, and get on with her life. Never before had she felt sorry for herself and now she fought off the feeling. “I have so much more than any of my friends. But they have something I have not yet found. Why can’t I meet a nice young man and fall in love? Is there something wrong with me?” Then she recalled the stressful scene at April’s earlier and asked “What kind of man would I be happy with?”
Unable to answer her own questions she sat there staring at the tranquil scene before her and finally dozed in the warm sunlight. A sudden crackling sound disturbed her reverie and she sat upright staring about. “How foolish of me to be so easily frightened,” she thought. While she never would have parked alone in such a deserted spot in the big city she had always felt safe here in this rural area where she had grown up. As she started her car she thought she saw the shadow of someone in the bushes off to her left. “Nonsense,” she assured herself as she rolled up the windows. Then she recalled Jim’s words about getting the guard dogs, “Things are changing out here.”
As she drove back to the ranch she caught herself watching in the rearview mirror. “I absolutely refuse to become paranoid,” she said out loud. All of her life others had looked after and protected her. She had always felt so safe and had never known any kind of fear. Now she suddenly realized she must be more careful and remember to look after herself. “I’m on my own now.”
Amy and Doug had a lovely ride. It felt so good to be out on Jupiter again. They rode for several hours. They sat beneath some cedar trees overlooking a small lake eating their scrambled egg and ham sandwiches.
Doug talked of school but seemed reluctant to discuss his future. “I don’t know what I want to do. I always thought I’d grow up and go to the city for some exciting job. When I visit friends in Ft. Worth I enjoy going to the ballgames and concerts but I’m not sure I want to live there. There are not many opportunities out here, just labor work.” He was a nice young man facing an unknown future.
Amy wished her grandfather were around to counsel the boy. She recalled feeling the same way as a teenager but he had insisted she go to college. “Oh, we all still need him so much,” she thought as she fought back tears.
Jupiter pawed the ground restlessly. It was time to ride back. “Thanks for coming with me Doug. It’s been great.”
“Anytime,” the boy answered. “The only time I feel really great is when I’m riding,” he smiled. “Race you home?”
CHAPTER THREE: THE GREAT PLAN
Jack Blanton started planning his great scheme while still in college. One professor’s assignment was to write a paper on the great families of America and suddenly Jack became inspired. He had a wonderful idea. He spent countless hours doing research. Why should he have to toil away his life when there were riches beyond measure just waiting out there to be taken?
He had deliberately chosen the small Pennsylvania College instead of a local Florida school. He had joined a local little theatre group while in high school and impressed the director with his talents. His endorsement of Jack had led to a drama scholarship at the small Fine Arts School near Pittsburgh. Even before deciding on a plan for his future, he sought to be anonymous. He made few friends and generally kept to himself.
He read many books on crimes, their solutions, and the errors made by the perpetrators. He knew he was smarter than any of those he read about. He would plan carefully. Jack would never be caught.
Before going to sleep at night he spent hours fantasizing about his future triumphs. He had no qualms whatsoever about the crimes he planned. Perhaps sometime in his early childhood he had some sense of right and wrong but during his high school years he had learned to quell any feelings of guilt. He found delight in the many vicious video and electronic games he played. He spent most of his teen-age time alone. He took pride in not needing anyone else. With no religious exposure or training it had been easy to develop an “everything for me” philosophy. His mother was a depressed single mom who moved from one abusive boyfriend to another and openly resented her son. When he was sixteen, his mother took up with a drug dealer who soon had her hooked on cocaine. He tried to recruit Jack to sell for him but the boy was too smart to get involved. He did however learn a great deal about the effects of different drugs, fatal combinations, proper and unsafe dosages, and where to procure anything he might ever want. The drug dealer delighted in teaching the boy and even showed him how to mix certain drugs into fatal cocktails.
“Someday, someone may do you dirty. Now you know how to get even,” he smiled through his rotten teeth.
Jack read all the famous fiction stories about perfect crimes and studied the reasons for their failures. It was no different than planning any business endeavor. Every detail must be taken care of carefully, no matter how small and inconsequential. Every possibility must be anticipated and a correct solution developed in advance.
Jack was neglecting his required classes but he had more important things on his mind. First, he must establish a proper history. He spent many hours researching wealthy Americans. He needed a somewhat common family name with many branches; some had to be wealthy. He feigned an interest in genealogy and found the school librarians very helpful. After months of study, he selected five families as candidates for his scheme. Then one day he found the article in Persons magazine and added the name of Amy Starling.
He would need to travel around the country, observing these families, their businesses, their interests, and developing other skills he would need. He was only an average student. His greatest skill was as an actor. His drama coach had suggested he play a clown at the annual fall festival. He was quite a hit and suddenly he knew he had found his method of operation.
Jack was very skilled at mimicking other voices and had developed a collection of characters he could assume at will. He acquired the different wigs, glasses and other items needed for each character. He picked up a fair amount of money betting with fellow students that he could mimic any well-known person and not be discovered.
Several professors became his victims when he called inviting them to dinner at the White House or to some exclusive social function. They then suffered the embarrassment of being turned away at the door.
His underground educational pursuits had eroded his grade average. He was placed on probation but that was of no concern to him. At mid-term he quit school, leaving a detailed letter explaining his decision to go to Australia to help a distant relative. He had made a point of mentioning this far away family member to several students and teachers during the previous months. He had even discussed the matter with a counselor explaining this relative was suffering from a rare disease and really needed his help in running a station in the outback. He explained he felt guilty for not going down to help, as he had no other family. Jack Blanton failed to register for the spring semester and several weeks later a letter arrived at the registrar’s office asking that his transcript be mailed to a small college in Sydney. For all practical purposes, that day the young man previously known as Jack Blanton died.
He had no family. His mother was unmarried and had died of an overdose when he was seventeen. He never knew who his father was. His mother said she had no living relatives. He had searched the Blanton family trees and had not found any trace of her. He felt secure in disappearing. If anyone ever searched for him, they could trace him to the college where records would indicate he had gone to Australia. Goodbye Jack Blanton. Hello Del Armstrong.
The man who now called himself Del Armstrong first planned travel to several areas in order to learn about and eventually select his beneficiary. His first plan was to take some menial job in a fast food establishment in each city. However, a well-known circus was playing in a near by community. He studied their published itinerary and smiled to himself. It would be the perfect cover. He bought a ticket to a matinee and observed the clowns carefully. That evening he appeared in full regalia as "Shy Sylvester" the clown who was bashful. He asked the ringmaster if he could go on with the group for a live try-out.
"All right," he said. "But if I whistle and point to you that will mean get off." The children loved him and he played to them shamelessly. He knew that circus clowns must appeal to the children. A few hours later, he was hired as a regular member of the troupe.
It was indeed a wonderful cover. The itinerary would take the circus to several of the cities where he needed to do research. It fit his plan perfectly.
The stop over in Pittsburgh proved fruitless. Too many family members of the possible victim were still living in the area.
In Charleston he learned the candidate had recently married. That was too bad.
In Atlanta he discovered the lady of interest was in law school. Oops. That wouldn’t do at all.
In Shreveport there was a possibility but he caught a glance of his subject at a public function. She was a real beauty. Well he would keep her on the list but he really didn’t want anyone he might be tempted to fall for. That would make his work harder. He must never allow himself to become emotionally involved with anyone.
After a weeklong stopover in the Dallas-Ft.Worth area, the circus would do a rest stop and weekend stand at Mineral Wells, and then head for the west coast. Everyone from miles around would visit the smallish town west of Ft.Worth for the event. The circus would arrive there two days in advance of their first show for a required rest for the animals and costume repairs. That would give him time to learn about two of the families on his list.
His only assigned chore while on “rest” was to make certain his costumes were all clean and in order. Since he had just recently joined the tour, there was nothing for him to do.
He used his time to visit the local library where he poured over archives of the one newspaper. There were frequent mentions of the names of the two families that interested him. However, one of the families had many members still living in the area.
He zeroed in on the other family. An obituary in this year’s September issue gave a great many details about the Starling family. It seemed that the patriarch, one Albert Starling, had only one son, who along with his wife had died many years ago in a tragic accident. They left behind a daughter named Amy who was the only surviving member of the family. An additional paragraph mentioned Amy was also the only surviving member of her mother's family, the Carlisle family of Boston.
He spent several hours with his laptop and learned the Carlisle family were middle class workers, had died young and left no estate. Amy's mother had been their only child. Further searching revealed Amy also did not have any aunts, uncles, or cousins. Del leaned back in the library chair, closed his eyes, and smiled. He had found his future.
Del had discovered the existence of a young heiress with no relatives. Now the serious work must begin. He made several more appearances at the small library. He was wearing his blue contact lenses, dark horn rimmed glasses and carried a brief case. The older librarian suspected he was an insurance investigator and after offering to help him, went on about her business. It was a small town and businessmen often used the library for research.
Del stopped next at a pay phone and looked over the residential book. There was only one listing for Starling-it was for The Starling Ranch and gave the foreman's name and two numbers for emergencies. Del called the first number and inquired if Miss Amy Starling were in town. Alice answered and said Amy was living in Dallas but was expected to be home next Friday. “Would you like to leave a message?" she asked warmly.
"No, I will call her next week-end. Thank you," he said hanging up. He walked the streets of downtown Mineral Wells, taking in all the details. There were two florists. He selected the larger one and went in, hat in hand. He had noticed the men in this town were very courteous when shopping. He addressed the female clerk as “Ma’am” and said he was an old friend of a young lady and wanted to send her flowers. He had no idea of what kind she liked and asked if this flower shop ever sent flowers to an Amy Starling.
“Well, yes we do. In fact, her late grandfather left a permanent order for flowers to be sent to her on each holiday and her birthday.”
Del smiled and shyly asked, “Would you mind telling me what kind of flowers she receives on those occasions? I would hate to send roses if they make her sneeze,” he said smiling again.
“I can tell you without looking it up because we have to special order them. Her favorite flower is the African violet. May I order some for you to send her?”
Del explained he would be returning the following weekend and would drop by again. He then found a small print shop run by an elderly gentleman. He ordered business cards printed using the new company name he had selected for his project.
During his freshman year, Del had a roommate who was a premed student. He was working on a detailed study of infant mortality. One night when his roommate was out, Del scanned through the report. He was amazed to find names, addresses, parents, etc. of infants who died at or shortly after birth, or within their first year. He started scanning dates and in less than an hour discovered an infant born in Tennessee on Jack’s own birth date-same day and year! The report indicated the child was rumored to have died within the first year but since the family had left the area, it could not be proven. He was named Delbert Armstrong.
Jack searched the Internet for any record of a Delbert Armstrong anywhere. The closest he found was a Dell Burt Armstrong, deceased. That gentleman was two years older than Jack Blanton and was a graduate of a large university in Connecticut. He had majored in business. Jack made note of the facts given and the next day wrote to the Social Security Office. He enclosed a money order for the fee and requested a social security number for Delbert Armstrong-the missing infant. It arrived in ten days. He then sent a request to the Nashville Records Division asking for a copy of the birth certificate for the same child. He signed his request Delbert Armstrong and included the recently acquired Social Security Number. He received his birth certificate within a week.
Next he applied for a credit card using his new identity and the PO Box he had rented. He gave his business as a freelance writer and showed a properly modest income. He soon received a card with a small $300 limit. That was fine. He just needed to get started. Things were going so well, Del decided to go all out. He wrote the college in question and requested a copy of his diploma, explaining the original was destroyed in a house fire. When it arrived, Del took it to a copy service center. He explained an error had been made in the way his name was written. They quickly copied the original with the name printed Delbert Armstrong. He had it framed and added it to his trove of fundamentals hidden in his trunk beneath his clown costumes. His roommate never knew how much he had contributed toward the perfect crime.
Del actually enjoyed his time with the circus. There is an unwritten rule among circus people that no one asks questions about anyone else. It is accepted that there are some who are there to escape their former lives. Unless someone volunteers information, you do not ask. It is a world unto itself. Del decided that if he ever needed a place to hide, he would find a circus someplace. It was a perfect cover. The circus would be leaving Mineral Wells at dawn tomorrow. It was time for The Shy Sylvester to vanish.
Del made one last visit to the florist shop. The lady welcomed him warmly and offered him coffee. Shyly, he confessed he had a problem. “I have a business emergency and cannot stay for the weekend as planned. I need to contact Amy in Dallas and I don’t have her apartment phone number with me. I don’t suppose you would know how I might find it. I really wanted to surprise her so I don’t want to call the ranch.” He managed his most charming smile. The elderly florist lady did not hesitate. She sat down her mug of coffee and went to a ledger. She quickly wrote down an address and phone number. She handed him the note and smiled as she added, “Good luck young man. I suppose you know she works at one of the public libraries?”
“Yes ma’am I do. Thank you very much,” he lied without so much as a waver in his voice.
“I heard she will be home Friday to spend the Christmas weekend,” the older woman smiled. “You have a Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you ma’m,” he mumbled.
CHAPTER FOUR: LOVE LOST, FRIENDSHIP FOUND
Amy paced nervously back and forth, pausing to straighten a picture or to fluff a pillow. The small apartment was furnished comfortably but not luxuriously. She had brought a few antique pieces from the ranch to soften the look of the very modern furniture. A weekly arrangement of fresh flowers was her one special gift to herself. They reminded her of the outdoors. That was the one thing she missed most after growing up on the ranch. She now spent the entire day inside the library and by the time she reached her apartment during the winter months, it was almost dark.
The phone was ringing as she unlocked her door. She hadn’t heard from Brad in almost a year. He took a job with an oil company in California soon after she went east to college. He had been a year ahead of her in school and was her first boyfriend.
He’d called to say he was back home visiting his folks and would like to take her out to dinner. Amy found herself watching the clock nervously. She wondered if he had changed. He had been her date for the senior prom. They had written each other while she was in school but during the last year their letters had been farther and farther apart. She suspected he had a girlfriend. Well, now she would find out.
She dreamily recalled the night of the prom. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo. Of course she had seldom seen him really dressed up. He even had his hair cut for the occasion. In their neighborhood, jeans and boots were the uniform of young and old alike. A fleece-lined windbreaker was added for colder days. Amy wondered what he would be wearing tonight. She looked down at her pink pantsuit. Was she overdressed? Perhaps she should change into something more casual. That thought vanished as the doorbell rang and she hurried to answer.
It was a long and boring evening. Brad talked on and on about his sports car and drag racing on the sand dunes near Barstow. He had fallen in love all right- with California! He had learned to ski in the mountains and often hiked through the wilderness areas of Yosemite. He went trout fishing with his buddies and bragged about how good looking and carefree the California girls were.
He took her to a bar-b-que restaurant near the stockyards in Ft.Worth. The food was greasy, the music too loud, and the air filled with smoke. Amy found herself just wanting to go home.
What a disappointment. Brad was nothing at all like she remembered. He had shown no interest in her, her work, what she was doing now, or her plans for the future. He casually asked about several of his old buddies who were no longer around. Amy certainly had not heard from any of them.
Back at her place, she served him coffee and cheesecake. He laughed and asked, “You mean this is what I get for desert?”
She ignored his crude comment and deliberately did not offer him seconds. “Who was this stranger who showed so little of the boy she remembered?”
As he left, he casually said, “Oh by the way. I was sorry to hear about your grandfather.” That was all he said. Amy thought of the many good times their crowd had enjoyed at the ranch. Her grandfather had always welcomed her friends and generously provided food and entertainment. Well at least he didn’t say he’d call so she wouldn’t have to tell him she never wanted to see him again.
Amy lay in bed staring at the moonlight that crept slowly across the room. It had certainly been a frustrating evening. What had she expected? She finally realized that following his surprise phone call she had allowed herself to get all hyped up with anticipation. She wanted him to appear and suddenly be the man she had been looking for and dreaming about. Now she must face the truth. She wasn’t in high school anymore. Brad had been one of the good old boys, a typical ranch youngster interested in cars, speed, and having a good time. He had become a man still only interested in the same things. His interests had not broadened in the adult world. His rough and tumble personality had a certain charm in adolescence. As a twenty-six year old man it just reflected a lack of maturity and an absence of polish. No, he certainly wasn’t the man she was looking for. She suddenly realized Brad was a lot like April’s husband.
Amy sat up in bed and rearranged her pillows. “That’s my problem,” she said out loud. “I don’t belong in that world anymore. Where do I belong?”
She buried her head in her pillow and wept. “Dear God,” she prayed, “How can I find a man to spend the rest of my life with when I don’t even know who I am anymore? Am I asking for too much?”
The Central Library, downtown Dallas
The next morning her supervisor introduced Amy to a new librarian, a petite red head named Claire. Amy was assigned to show her around. By noon Amy realized she had met a new friend. Their rapport was instant. She was a light-hearted, outgoing young woman and Amy invited her home for potluck.
They sat on the floor beside the coffee table eating Chinese leftovers and gelatin salad. “I’m not much of a cook,” Amy apologized.
Claire explained that her own version of the food pyramid consisted of five kinds of breakfast food and pop. The two talked and laughed together for several hours. She had recently graduated from the state university and had planned to be married soon. Her boyfriend had unexpectedly accepted a transfer to Oregon without even consulting her. She had received a short note saying he wasn’t ready to get married and wanted to see some more of the world. “I guess you could say he flew the coop,” Claire sighed. “Perhaps he met someone who can cook,” she grimaced.
Amy admired her new friend’s attitude but doubted she could have been so charitable under the circumstances.
They soon became constant companions. Amy was delighted to meet someone who enjoyed many of the same activities she did. They mixed ballgames, musicals, movies, and books to their mutual delight. The other single librarians kept badgering the two of them to go out on double dates with them. Claire just wasn’t ready yet, still carrying a torch for her ex fiancé. Amy expressed the wish to meet men who would not know she was an heiress.
Suddenly one day Claire devised a plan. She had heard Amy say that a college friend had nicknamed her Madge. “For dating purposes we will call you Madge Redwing instead of Amy Starling.” Everyone laughed and Amy really didn’t take the idea seriously until a few days later when Claire introduced a young man to her at a neighborhood diner. The three of them sat together and visited for a while. As the young man rose to leave he smiled and asked Amy, “May I call you sometime Madge?”
That began an elaborate subterfuge. The receptionist at the library was alerted to their scheme. If anyone asked for Madge Redwing she was to forward the call to Amy. Every once in a while Amy met someone as Madge that she went out with once or twice but no one that really interested her. She began to doubt she would ever meet the man of her dreams. Claire asked Amy what she really expected.
“I want him to be kind, ambitious, honest, ethical, loving, and faithful. Is that asking too much?”
In the meantime Claire refused to date anyone. She appeared to be light hearted but Amy knew she was still hurting. She invited Claire to spend the holidays with her at the ranch. Claire had no family except a sister in another state. They would have fun together and Amy had been dreading the thought of her first Christmas alone.