CABIN FEVER

by

J.E. Seymour

When this kind of thing happens, it’s easy to second-guess it, play Monday morning quarterback.  “Oh yeah, I saw the signs, I knew this was going to happen.”  Well, no.  Nobody knew it was going to happen.  If we had, we would have stopped it.

I’m the chief of police in Liberty, New Hampshire.  Population 1,500 or so, give or take a few summer folks.  I worked hard to get where I am, one of very few female police chiefs in this state.  I think I’m a pretty good cop.  But I didn’t see this coming.

Let me start at the beginning.  Roger Benson lived up to the far side of Mount Winston.  It was tough getting in and out of there even in the summer, and he would pretty much hole up for the winter, coming out maybe every couple of weeks or so.  He’d stock up on supplies then drive his old four wheel drive truck back up to his cabin.  When I say cabin, don’t get the wrong idea.  Roger’s cabin was made of logs, but it was a pretty nice log house, with plenty of space, indoor plumbing and everything.  Now Roger had been here for years, long before I became chief, and he was getting up there in age.  In all that time, nobody knew anything about him having any family.  So when his younger sister showed up, we were all a bit surprised.

I was having lunch at my desk, as usual.  My administrative assistant leaned in through the open door.

“Chief, Eleana Morrill is here to see you.”

I swallowed too big a chunk of peanut butter on whole wheat and coughed. 

Betty laughed.  “You want me to send her in?”

I took a big gulp of water and nodded.  “Sure, sorry.”

Eleana Morrell is the town gossip.  Everybody knows that, including her.  But she’ll deny it if you ask her.  I got to my feet, shook her hand, directed her to the other chair. 

“Thank you for seeing me, Chris.”

I didn’t like being on a first name basis with this woman, but it was part of the job.  I nodded in an encouraging way and waited.

“I was having lunch at The Diner when a middle-aged woman came in asking how to find an address.  Said it wasn’t in her GPS.  She was obviously from away.  All fancy clothes and high heels in the middle of winter.”  Eleana snorted.  “Anyway, the address she was looking for is Roger Benson’s place.”

“So?”

“So who would be going up there?”

“What difference does it make?”  I wanted to ask her what business it was of hers, but that would have been too rude even for me.

“You don’t find that suspicious, or worrisome?”

“Nope.”

Eleana got up from the chair.  “I don’t know how she thinks she’s going to get up there, the car she had didn’t have four wheel drive.”  She moved to the door.  “Thanks for your input.”

I nodded.  I knew she wanted more input, but I didn’t want to encourage her snooping. 

I’m not sure if the strange woman made it up to Roger’s place that day or not, but the next I heard of it was a couple of weeks later when Courtney Reynolds came in.  She’s the manager of The Foothills Savings and Loan, one of the last of the small banks in the area.  They’ve been hanging on despite buyout offers from a half dozen national chains.  Courtney is one of the reasons they’ve hung on.  She loves her job, loves working for a small bank in a small town, and knows all her customers by their first names. 

She came in and sat down, at least I was finished with lunch this time. 

“I have some concerns about Roger Benson.” She looked out the window, at the bank across the street. “He came into the bank yesterday with this woman.”

“Now, Courtney, you know Roger’s a grownup.”

She frowned at me. “It’s not like that. She claims to be his sister.  Robyn MacIntire.  She’s apparently moved in with him, and he added her to his account.  He gets his veteran’s benefits and his social security deposited directly into that account. Now she has access to that.”

“Was her identification all in order?”

“Yes, but…”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Like I said, he’s a grownup.”

“He seemed, I don’t know, a bit confused. Out of it, maybe.”

“In what way?”

“She did all the talking. He just kind of stood next to her, and signed where he needed to sign. When I asked him if this was what he wanted, he just nodded.”

“You want me to drive up and do a welfare check?”

“Could you? That would be fabulous. I’m so worried about him.”

“I think I can get away with that.” This is a small town, after all, and I am the police chief, and spending the taxpayer’s money on a little bit of gas for the old Excursion didn’t seem like such a bad thing. I headed on up there that afternoon. 

The roads leading to his place had been plowed at some point, the gray snowbanks on either side were testament to that, but there was still ice in the ruts. The Excursion has pretty good tires on it, with four wheel drive, but I had to put it in low and crawl the last half mile or so. I had no clue how the little Honda in his driveway had even gotten there, but it was sitting there in the turnaround, covered in mud, there just the same. Roger’s old Blazer was there too, also covered in mud. 

I opened the car door to more mud, the squishy brown kind you don’t want to get on your shoes. Luckily, I had brought my muckers, and I took off my cross trainers and put on my tall boots, then tromped up to his house.  I knocked on the heavy wooden front door and waited. 

A woman I didn’t recognize opened the door. “Yes?”

“Morning, ma’am. I’m Chris Powell, chief of police. Can I speak to Mr. Benson?”

“He’s not feeling well.”

“And who would you be, ma’am?”

“I’m his sister, Robyn.”

I nodded. “Well ma’am, I’d really like to come in and speak to Mr. Benson. Is he sick in bed?”

Her face turned almost purple. “No, but…”

“Can I come in?”

She stood in the door as if she was going to shut it on me, but then backed up a step. “Okay, I guess so.”  

I walked into the cabin and took a quick look around. Roger was sitting on the couch, staring into space. It was like he was watching TV, but the TV was off. I walked over. “Hey Roger, how you doing?” 

He looked at me, and his eyes were blank. I’d known Roger for years, but it was as if he didn’t know me. “Who are you?”

His sister interrupted. “This is the police chief, Roger. She’s here to see you.” She used that voice some people use with little children.

He looked at her as if he didn’t know who she was, then back at me again. “Police?”

I sat down across from him and leaned forward. “How you doing, Roger? Going to do some turkey hunting this spring?”

“Turkey?”

I glanced over at Robyn. “What’s up with him?”

She motioned for us to go in the other room. I stood up and followed her. She spoke under her breath, as if afraid he would hear. “He’s been like this ever since I got here. I was worried about him, living all alone in the middle of nowhere. I can see that my fears were justified. He seems to have severe Alzheimer’s. It’s a good thing I got here when I did.”

I glanced back into the living room at Roger, who looked as if he might be drooling. “He never showed any signs of senility before.”

“This seems to have come on pretty quick. As I said, it’s a good thing I was here. Sold my house in Lexington, Massachusetts and came up here to live with Roger. I’m sure you must have heard I’m helping him out.  Otherwise you wouldn’t have come out here.”   

I looked her in the eyes. “He was fine before you came up here. And yes, I am here to check up on him after some of his friends mentioned that you were here.”

“Are you suggesting that I have something to do with his condition?  Because that’s just ridiculous. I am a trained health care professional. I would never dream of doing anything to harm my brother.”

I looked back over at Roger. “No ma’am, no accusations.”

She went back into the living room and took Roger’s hand. “We’re looking into a nice facility for him.”

I was sure I saw something flash through Roger’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “Okay then. Thank you for your time.”

I sat in my car for a few minutes before I started it up and drove off.  Just before I turned the key I saw Roger part the curtains and look out at me.  His face looked different for a moment. As if he knew who I was. Then I saw her pull the curtain shut. 

I was puzzling on the drive back to the station. Roger didn’t have much. Just the house, the land, none of which was really worth all that much right now. 

It was a couple of days later that Sam Philman stopped in to see me.  Sam was one of Roger’s only real friends. He sat down in the chair across from the desk and pounded his cane on the floor. “That woman is doing something to Roger, I’m sure of it. Poisoning him or something. He won’t play cards with us.”

“Cards?”

“Soon as the roads are passable, Roger and Tommy and Ben and me get together to play poker once every couple of weeks.  I called old Roger up last night and he wouldn’t even talk to me.  I swear that sister of his is evil.  Says his Alzheimer’s is so bad he didn’t even know who I was.” 

“Hmm.”

“You have to put a stop to this.”

“There hasn’t been a crime.”

“There will be. Mark my words.” He got to his feet and stomped out of my office.

I hate it when people say things like that. I had various other reports, including Courtney saying that large amounts of money were being withdrawn from Roger’s account. Still, with her name on the account, we couldn’t stop it.

The call wasn’t unexpected at this point. It came in the middle of the afternoon.

I was in my office, working on some paperwork, when Betty leaned in. 

“Chris. Dispatch got a 911 hangup from Roger Benson’s house.”

I got to my feet too fast and knocked the chair over. “You know where Bill is?”

I wanted Bill Curry, my sergeant, up there with me this time. I was expecting to find Roger dead, maybe she pushed him down the stairs, or maybe she suffocated him in his sleep. The hangup bothered me though, that didn’t fit with her M.O. thus far. When we got there, the front door was standing open. Roger was on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair, holding an axe. I was glad I hadn’t had lunch.

“Afternoon, Chief.”

“You mind putting that weapon down, Roger?”

“Ayup.” He set it aside, and blood puddled under it.