Christopher Reed wanted to start a new life in Leavenworth, away from people, hoping to escape the grief of losing his wife Janice in a terrible car accident.
The charming cottage he bought with the most alluring garden was perched on a plain near t...
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He left for town soon after the police officers had left that morning. They had searched the house and the grounds again, but had come up with nothing. They had asked him some more questions that hadn’t brought anything to light.
Despondent, he drove to town. He picked up a few things and paid Robin a visit.
"Mr. Reed, what a pleasure to finally meet you in person." She smiled up at him. "Have you settled in well already?"
"Good morning Robin, please call me Christopher. I wouldn't say I've settled in at all."
"Oh, why is that?" She raised a surprised eyebrow.
"That's why I'm here. Strange things have been happening at home. Things I can't explain. The police have even been over as well."
"Oh my goodness! The police? But, why?"
"Someone was in my home last night. Tried to strangle me."
"That is terrible. I'm so sorry to hear that. Are you okay? Did the police find anything?"
"I'm fine," he laughed, holding one hand up. "They couldn't find any trace of anybody being there. No footprints and no forced entry." She ushered him to a sofa in her office and offered him some coffee. Once she had handed him a cup, she took a seat opposite him.
"What can I do for you, Christopher?"
"I want to know who lived in my house and why they left?"
"There's not really much to tell. It was a gypsy woman, who stayed there. Her name was Florica. A local apparently met her on one of his travels and married her. She came to Leavenworth with her new husband. People thought she was a witch because she made potions with herbs and plants she grew on their land."
"That makes sense. Some of the flowers in the garden can be used for their herbal properties. Like the Bee Balm. It can be used for the treatment of colds, headaches, gastric disorders and to reduce fevers and soothe sore throats."
"That's correct. How did you know?"
"My wife... my wife was a florist and she loved studying the use of certain herbs and plants, including those of flowers."
"Oh, I see."
"What else can you tell me about Florica?"
"Why do you want to know so much about her?"
"I don't know. I thought maybe if I knew more about her, I could figure out what's going on at home."
"What do you mean?"
"From the moment I stepped onto the porch, I have been receiving, what I thought to be gifts, from someone."
"Gifts?"
"Yes. My first day I found a scarlet red Bee Balm on my doorstep. That night I found a lavender Aster on my table. Yesterday afternoon after I had searched the grounds I found a bunch of red and green Amaranths on the swing on my porch. Last night a single yellow Dahlia lay on the edge of my bed."
"Do you know what Florica means?"
"No."
"It means flower," she said, wringing her fingers together. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds.
"What are you trying to say?"
"I don't know. All I know is that Florica's husband died in a fight with one of the townsmen after he had touched Florica in an inappropriate way. She mourned his death to such an extent that she became a recluse.
She was a very beautiful woman. She was tall with long hip length, light brown hair. Florica had the most beautiful aquamarine blue-green eyes. She came to town a week before Halloween to sell some of her medicine. She got into an altercation with one of the men's wives and she left town again.
My mother paid her a visit every Saturday and Sunday for some lessons on remedies. When she got there the day after Halloween, she was gone. My mother figured she left because of sadness and the fact that she was never really accepted by the townspeople. I thought that maybe she's back and is trying to scare you away."
"Who gave you permission to sell the property?"
"Everything they owned was in a family trust. The local bar belonged to her husband and his brother, Eric, who runs the place. He said we must sell the house and put the money in the trust for when she returns."
"How long ago did she disappear?"
"It's ten years this year."
"Ten years?" he exclaimed surprised. "Why sell it now?"
"It's actually been on the market for more than nine years. You were the first person that ever showed interest. Tomorrow will be the ten year anniversary of her disappearance."
"Thank you for all the information, Robin. I'll see you around." He left with a lot of concern etched on his face.
He walked around town, not knowing whether he should feel excited or depressed by all the Halloween decorations. Almost every shop had jack-o-lanterns perched outside. A shop called 'Scally Wags' had different costumes on display. Gravestones and severed body parts decorated the display windows with cobwebs strung from window to window. A hooded figure with a scythe beckoned everybody inside.
I need a drink.
He headed to the bar Robin had told him about. When he entered, a jangle of voices greeted him along with a foggy smoke cloud, lingering in the foul air. He weaved through the crowd to get to the bar and slid onto an empty stool next to a slumped man.
"What will it be?
"Whisky on the rocks, please." The bar lady wiped the counter before placing his drink in front of him. She was blonde, young and good looking. Her hair in a tight ponytail exposing her hard but petite features. Staring at her soft brown eyes, he couldn't help but wonder how she had ended up working in a bar.
The peanuts atop the bar were the first solids he had had for the day. Only now did he hear his tummy growling. The loud music were too much for him. Taking the last swig, he decided to head home. Swirling on his stool to face the people in the bar, a broad shouldered bald man in his early fifties stood before him, holding out his hand to greet Christopher.
"Are you new in town?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." He took his hand. "Christopher."
"Well, welcome to Leavenworth. I’m Ben. Join me and a few friends for another drink."
"Thank you." He followed Ben to the back of the bar where another four guys Ben's age sat. He introduced them as Anthony, Michael, David and Roy. He stayed until after midnight.
By the time he left, pint glasses and shot glasses littered the table. He didn't know much about them, but what he could gather is that they were best friends since yea-high, gesturing to his hip. Every Halloween since they could remember, they spent together, either being up to mischief or drinking the night away. They called themselves 'The Five Musketeers’.
They invited themselves over to his place for Halloween celebrations the following night. Or did he invite them? He couldn't remember. All that he knew was that he wasn't at home by midnight and that he wouldn't be alone tomorrow night.
Stumbling upstairs befuddled, he just fell into bed with his shoes still on.
