THE VIOLETS DIE AT DAWN
CHAPTER 1
The weather had turned ugly. Paul fought to see the road as rain lashed his windshield, faster than his wipers could push it aside. As he climbed steadily higher in the mountains visibility dropped dramatically, low clouds becoming fog as they touched the ground. As he neared the turn that would take him to his mountain retreat, Paul wondered in what condition he would find the old logging road that had, in effect, become his driveway. He made the turn and started up towards his home; the unpaved surface fast becoming a quagmire.
Less than fifty feet in, Paul slammed on the brakes. An out of place heap of red and blue had caught his attention. Putting the car in reverse, he carefully backed down the road until he was opposite a large fir. Someone was huddling beneath the tree in a vain attempt to get out of the rain. Paul stopped the car, got out, and began to make his way to the tree. Whomever it was attempted to stand only to fall down face first on the soggy ground. Paul rushed forward and as he reached the tree, a small, weak voice said, "Help me. Please help me . . . i'm so cold." Paul rolled the figure onto its' back and reached under knees and shoulders to pick up the surprisingly light figure. Not looking into the person's face, his eyes only watching the ground, Paul carried his burden to the car and placed it on the passenger seat. He returned to the other side and only after getting in and closing the door, did he look at his passenger.
Matted red hair covered the face; he reached out and wiped it aside and found himself looking at a teen-age girl. Pug nose, firm chin and high cheekbones told him she was very attractive when not wet and covered with mud. He restarted the car and began again to make his way toward home. Paul stole an occasional glance at his passenger during the long, slow journey to his home. He was surprised to see that she was apparently a natural redhead; her eyebrows matched her hair. The girl's eyes fluttered open and he found himself looking into wells of pastel violet the color of amethyst. He was stunned. It had been eight years since he had seen eyes that particular shade of violet. She muttered a nearly inaudible thank you through chattering teeth, closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to get warm. Paul turned the heater up to its limit and continued on.
The rain ended, the storm moving to the east leaving ragged streaks of clouds that turned orange, magenta and silver as the sun dropped behind the trees. Paul pulled the car behind the house and stopped opposite a garage-sized building. He got out and headed to the door, opened it and reached inside to turn on several switches and returned to get the girl. He carried her inside a bath house he had designed and built himself.
The warm air was scented with cedar and moist from a bubbling hot spa.
He set the girl on a bench and proceeded to remove her sandals. Grabbing a towel from a stack near the bench, he wiped the mud from her face and feet. Removing his own shoes, he picked her up and carried her to the spa. Ignoring the mud, Paul stepped in and sat the girl on the ledge inside. She was so short the water came to the base of her neck. Reaching under the water, Paul removed the girl's red plaid shirt and jeans and pitched them on the floor beside the spa. Lifting her slender arms to the edge to help her maintain her balance, Paul got out of the water, removed his own sodden clothes and pulled on a pair of swim trunks that hung on a peg. Grabbing several towels, he returned to the spa and re-entered the water. Setting all but one of the towels near the edge, he lowered the girl's arms and pulled them from the straps of her bra. Taking the remaining towel he wrapped it around the girl and removed her bra pitching on the wet pile of clothes. He reached under the bottom of the towel, removed her panties and they too, joined the growing wet heap.
The girl opened her eyes and looked around. Realizing that she was up to her neck in hot water covered only by a towel, she shied away from the stranger hovering over her. "Who are you? Where am I? What is this place?"
Paul stepped back from her so as not to appear threatening and replied, "My name is Paul Brown, and you are in the bath house behind my house. Stay in the spa and get warm while I go to the house and get you something dry to wear." Climbing out of the warm water, Paul picked up the pile of soggy clothes and headed to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He called over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.
Entering the house through the kitchen door Paul went straight to the laundry, tossed the soiled clothing into the washer and started the cycle. Returning to the kitchen he filled a pan with beef stew left over from the previous night's meal, turned the stove on low and went to his room to change. Picking out the smallest robe in his wardrobe he carried it to the kitchen and placed it on the table. Paul stirred the stew and went to the living room. He stepped behind the bar, picked up a shot glass and a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream Sherry and half filled the glass. Paul swallowed the liquid and poured another half ounce for the girl. He returned to the kitchen, stirred the stew again and picked up the robe and started for the door. The washer buzzed and he made a u-turn to put the clothes in the dryer. That done, he headed back to the bath house.
Paul stepped inside and saw that the girl was not in the spa. Looking around, he noticed that the shower stall was wet and a trail of footprints led to the sauna. Peeking through the small glass window in the door he found the girl sitting on the top bench, a fresh towel wrapped around her body and vigorously drying her hair with another. Not wanting to startle her, he knocked on the door, counted to three and stepped inside. "Feeling better?" He asked.
"Much better. I hope you don't mind that I took a shower and came in here to dry off," she said as she continued to rub her hair.
"Not at all," he replied. "I brought you the smallest robe I have and something to warm you on the inside too."
The girl took the glass and looked dubiously at its' contents. "What is it?" she asked as she raised the glass to her lips.
"Sherry" Paul answered.
The girl swallowed the contents in one gulp and almost dropped the glass as her eyes widened and began to water. She coughed twice and croaked out a very raspy, "That's smooth." Grinning, Paul took the glass from her hand and tossed her the robe. "Put this on and come on out." He stepped out of the sauna and went to the spa to drain out the muddy water.
The girl stepped out before he finished and waited for him to turn around before asking, "Now what?"
Paul smiled at her and said, "Let's go in the house. I've got some stew warming on the stove. We can talk while you eat." He headed for the back door and the girl padded barefoot behind him. Inside, he motioned for her to sit at the table and turned to the stove to dish up a bowl for her. "Bread or crackers?" he asked without looking at her.
"What?" she replied.
Paul chuckled and said, "I asked if you would like bread or crackers with the stew."
"Oh," she replied, "Bread please."
Paul selected some rye and placed it on the plate beside the steaming stew, centering the bowl in front of his guest. As the girl began to eat, Paul sat down across from her and silently studied her face while she ate. She unabashedly looked back at him between spoonfuls of stew and bites of bread. When she had finished, he got up and took the plate and bowl to the sink, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. The dryer buzzed as he turned back towards the table. "I'll be right back," he told her as he headed for the laundry. Paul returned in a few minutes with her clothes neatly folded .
"Come with me, I'll show you where to change," he said as he headed for the bathroom in the hall. Her chair scraped backwards as she rose to follow him. Paul entered the bathroom, turned on the light and set her clothes on the edge of the sink saying, "When you finish dressing, please hang the robe on the hook behind the door." He stepped out of the way so she could enter and close the door.
Paul went back to the bath house, picked up the girl's shoes and returned to the kitchen. After rinsing them off he carried them into the living room to place them on the hearth. Paul lit a fire, returned to the couch and waited.
Several minutes passed before the girl emerged and took a seat in the big leather chair across the coffee table from Paul. Folding her hands in her lap, she looked at Paul and said, "Mr. Brown, I don't know how to thank you for what you have done for me. I thought I was going to freeze to death out there."
Paul nodded and said, "If you're ready, I'd like to know who you are and how you came to be under that tree."
The girl placed her hands on the arms of the chair, leaned back and gazing at the ceiling said, "My name is Lynnell Franklin. I'm from Cleveland and I ran away from home eight days ago." She looked at Paul to see his reaction before continuing. "I've been heading West since I left. The storm caught me on the road and the tree was the only place I could find to get out of the worst of the rain."
Paul silently waited for her to continue. "Mr. Brown, I'm almost sixteen. I think I have a right to look for a better life than what I had. My father left mother and I three years ago for some other woman. Mom took it hard and started drinking. About six months ago she got herself a boyfriend, a real dirtbag who moved in two weeks after they met. Within a month, whenever mom wasn't around or passed out, he would start hitting and slapping me. He never hit me hard enough to leave marks, but the things he said frightened me. He said he hated me and wanted me to get out, threatening to kill me if I didn't go. I tried to tell mom but she wouldn't listen, I didn't have any bruises for proof so she called me a lying little bitch claiming I was jealous of her new boyfriend. I just couldn't take it any more Mr. Brown, so I ran away."
Paul nodded his head in understanding and asked Lynnell what she planned to do and where she planned to go. She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. I haven't stopped long enough to think that far ahead."
Paul made a decision, looking into her violet eyes he said in a quiet voice, "Well young lady, you're staying here tonight. It's almost dark and the road is too muddy to drive down at night. Maybe after a good night's sleep you'll have some ideas in the morning."
Paul stood up and said, "Let me show you around the house." Lynnell stood up and followed him to the next room. Paul's voice, taking on pride began, "I designed this house several years ago after I won a lottery that gave me the financial freedom to quit work and explore some ideas and dreams that I had. You've been in the kitchen, living room, and the bath house. This is my study and office." Lynnell looked around the room. Books and papers filled shelves along one wall, a fireplace dominated a second and a third was a huge picture window through which she could see the mountains whose snow-covered peaks were still illuminated by the rapidly setting sun. The last wall contained several filing cabinets, a desk, a computer station and racked stereo gear. The center of the room was several feet lower than the main floor and held a sectional sofa and coffee table.
Paul walked to the window and stared at a sharp sloped mountain slightly separated from the others and watched the colors fade as the sun sank lower below the horizon. Lynnell walked to the window and looked out in the direction of the mountains. "It's so beautiful,
I can understand why the wall is almost all glass."
Without looking at her, Paul replied, "My wife and daughter died on that mountain eight years ago." After a moment he turned around and walked towards the door saying, "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the place." He left the room quickly and she hurried to follow.
Paul entered the hall and turned right, and walked to the door at the end. Opening it he said, "You can sleep in here tonight." Lynnell stepped in the room and looked around. The room was comfortably furnished. Through a door to the left, she could make out a bathroom. Paul turned and started back down the hall, saying "The room next to yours is another bedroom and my room is at the far end." He left the hall with her following and entered the kitchen. Going to the door, he turned on several outside lights and said, "Behind the bath house is my workshop and to the right is the pool and cabana the building to the left is the garage and storage space." Lynnell looked out the window and nodded. Paul turned and pointed to an open door. "And the laundry is through there." She walked to the door and gave the room a quick once-over.
Turning around to face Paul she said, "You have a beautiful home Mr. Brown."
"Thank you." Paul replied, and added "But please call me Paul." He turned out the lights as they returned to the living room.
Paul went to the bar and got a Killian's Red and asked Lynnell if she wanted anything to drink. "A soda if you have one." She replied. He reached back into the small refrigerator and pulled out a Coke, opened it and took it to her before he sat on the couch. Reaching for the remote, he turned on the large TV that sat against the wall. Paul changed the channel to CNN to catch the World Report and settled back. Lynnell joined him on the couch and they sat in silence as the top story was reported. Lynnell yawned twice before the first commercial.
When Paul had finished his beer he took the empty to the bar and dropped it in the trash. Reaching back into the fridge, he pulled out another and looked at the girl to see if see wanted a second Coke. She was asleep. Paul set the beer down and crossed the room to her. Gently taking the can from her hand, he softly called her name and repeated it before she stirred and opened her eyes.
"I must have dropped off," she muttered. Paul took her hands and pulled her to her feet.
"You're worn out, why don't you go to bed?" Lynnell yawned again, nodded her head, and started for the hall and her bedroom. She stopped just before making the turn and looking at Paul, said in a dreamy-sleepy voice,
"Thank you Paul. I'll see you in the morning." Without waiting for a reply, she turned the corner and disappeared. Moments later he heard the bedroom door close. Paul watched the rest of the news then changed channels to catch the local update on The Weather Channel. Tomorrow was forecast to be clear and warm. Paul turned off the TV and went into his office.
Sitting at his work station, Paul turned on the computer and logged onto the Internet. He proceeded to follow a daily ritual of checking his bank balance, paying bills, checking his mail and answering those things that needed to be answered. He finished quickly, switched to Netscape and pulled up the YAHOO search engine. Setting it to search the Cleveland phone book, he waited a moment before being informed that there were over 45 listings for Franklin in the Cleveland area. He groaned in dismay and logged off. It's not going to be easy, he thought as he shut the computer down. He turned to the phone and dialed his lawyer's home number.
He and Michael James had been friends for many years and he knew that he would still be awake.
"Hello?" Mike said when he answered the phone.
"Mike, it's Paul. I need your help with something." Paul explained the whole story of finding the girl to Mike and concluding his narrative said, "Find out what you can about the girl and her mother but be discreet. I don't want anyone getting the idea that someone is digging around looking for information, OK?"
"Paul, I'm paid to be discreet. The point here is if you've been discreet. If you get my meaning."
"Don't be stupid, Mike. The girl's fifteen and fast headed for trouble and if I can keep her out of it, I will. She's very lucky to have made it this far without being raped or killed. She's a sweet kid, and seems to be very intelligent and mature for her age." Paul replied.
Mike asked several questions and ended the conversation with, "This won't be cheap Paul. Private detectives are pulling in big bucks these days, and when you throw in the expense money they all want it could run you thousands."
"Money isn't a problem, Mike, you know that." Paul shot back at him. Mike said that he would get on it first thing in the morning and hung up the phone.
Paul wasn't tired yet so he went to his room, got his robe and headed out to the bath house to clean it up. Turning on the light as he entered, Paul hung the robe on the peg where he usually hung his trunks and walked over to the spa and looked in. A thin layer of mud covered the bottom and there was a faint ring around the sides. Paul went to the utility closet and got out the hose and cleaning supplies he would need and undressed. He had found the task easier if he didn't have to worry about getting his clothes wet and dirty.
He quickly scrubbed the spa down and rinsed the residue down the drain. When he was satisfied that it was clean, Paul shut the drain valve and began to refill the spa. Moving about the large room, he got the mop and began mopping the floor, picking up the wet towels as he went. He finished quickly and put the mop away, and piled the dirty towels on the bench by the door. The spa was filling at it's usual steady pace so Paul headed for the room next to the utility closet, opened the door and turned on the light. A large commercial tanning bed sat in the middle of the floor. Paul set the timer for 20 minutes, put on the goggles and turned the bed on. He laid down on the bed and used the time to go over the day's events. The lights on the bed went out before he could draw any conclusions or make any further plans. He knew that whatever Mike found out about the girl and her family would be instrumental in helping him figure out what to do. Paul got up from the bed and headed back into the main room, turning off the light and closing the door as he went.
This time the spa was over half full when he looked in. Paul bent down to the access panel and turned the heater and pump circuit breakers back on. He secured the hatch and crossed the room to the sauna, checked the temperature, got two towels and went in. He set the timer for thirty minutes before closing the door. The dry heat immediately caused him to sweat. He moved to the top bench, spread out the towels and stretched out to enjoy the heat. When the timer rang, perspiration was pouring off his body.
Paul quickly left the sauna and crossed the room to the shower, turned the cold on full force and stepped in. Paul gasped as he turned in circles under the frigid water that cascaded from the oversized showerhead. When his teeth began to chatter, he reach out and turned on the hot tap until the temperature modified to a more reasonable level. Paul grabbed the soap and rapidly washed, rinsed and turned the water off. After drying, Paul put on the robe and checked the spa again. It was full. He gathered up the towels, turned everything off and headed back inside the house. He put the towels on the top of the washer, turned out the lights and headed for bed.