The House on Maple Drive

By Edna May Cieslewicz

In the house on Maple Drive, three women have vanished from the same house on the same day. One is an RN, working and living there, caring for the elderly invalid owner. She goes out on her day off, comes home early because of an impending storm never to be seen again.
A young lady renting a room there went to work in the morning, came home ill an hour later and also vanished. The neighbor next door came for a brief visit; was seen by her housekeeper rushing home through the woods from an upstairs window and she, like the others, was never seen again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 15, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465332127

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The man in the black raincoat stood across the street from the police station, staring at the building, hesitating, wrestling with inner self-doubt, if he should or he shouldn’t. The cold March wind bit furiously into his cheeks as he stepped in front of the curb.

Mary’s face appeared before him. He could see her plainly in his imagination. The large sparkling blue eyes and her medium length blonde hair that shone like spun gold in the rays of the sun were so vivid to him. He thought of those delicious stolen moments they shared together, of her soft warm skin pressed lovingly next to his in their nakedness. Those magnificent moments they shared together that they may never share again, now perhaps just a memory. He couldn’t, wouldn’t think that he may never see her again. Mary was his life. He lived only for the times when they could be together, he loved her so. He remembered holding her close to him—so very close. And the kisses, unforgettable, filled with passion; his hands on her beautiful breasts that seemed to come magically alive at his touch. And more kisses. He thought of his hand between her legs, how they’d open wide for him. And when he was inside her body, he felt feelings that he never knew he possessed. In turn he aroused a passion in her that she had never known.

Then he thought of his wife, Dottie, and his daughters, Hazel and Stella. How could he face them? He felt deceitful as though he led a Jekyll and Hyde existence. Inwardly he loathed himself for it. He’d snarl cruelly at his little girls, at his wife, and his mother. He thought a drink could erase his sinful pleasures, only the drinking got worse.

One day he didn’t see or hear from Mary anymore. Was God punishing him for his indiscretions?

It’s now or never, he thought, as he decided to go inside.

The lobby was bustling with activity. There were people in every part of the huge room, in all corners, going in different directions. Some wore uniforms, some were in ordinary street closes, while others wore outrageous getups.

This was the first time he was ever inside a police station. He went over to the desk. The man sitting behind it was speaking to someone on the phone. The nameplate read Sergeant Cooke. The sergeant looked up saying, Be with you in a minute, glanced down and resumed the conversation. The man stood there waiting patiently. When the sergeant finished, he looked back at the man. Now, then, what’s the problem?

The man leaned forward saying in a low voice, I, er, want you to find someone for me.

Missing Persons is upstairs, first door to your right.

The sergeant pointed to a stairway. The man went to it, thanking him, and ascended the steps moving quickly. He was still hoping he was doing the right thing. Breathless, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. He didn’t know whether to knock or just walk right in. He decided to enter.

He saw a man sitting behind a desk, writing on a large piece of yellow paper. The man was so absorbed in his writing and didn’t notice him immediately. After clearing his throat, the other man at the desk came to attention. Yeah?

The man shifted from his left foot to his right. Er, I want you, er, I mean, I want to report a missing person.

A child?

No, a woman.

A relative?

No, a friend.

A good friend?

You could say that.

The man handed him a form, telling him to fill it out. The detective asked for his name. The man looked uncomfortable.

My name?

Why? Got something to hide?

The man became embarrassed. Well, you see, she was more then a friend, and, I’m well, a married man.

The detective grinned. Oh, I get it. You mean a lover? You’re having an affair and you don’t want the wife to know, right?

Can I tell you about it?

Sure; that’s why I’m here. Oh, don’t worry. In our line of work, we hear things that would make your toes curl.

I’m sure you have. Well, Mary, that’s her name, is a registered nurse. She was working and living in a private home, caring for an invalid on Maple Drive. One day, on her day off, she went out and nobody’s seen her again.

Look, Mack, isn’t it possible that Mary just didn’t like the place or the people and took a walk?

"Oh no. She’d never do that without telling me. She told me everything. You see, she has nobody. No family of any kind. Her parents are dead, she was an only child, and she’s never been married. Completely alone in the world except for me, and nobody knew about me. We kept our friendship a secret."

Aha! I get the picture. How long is she missing?

It’s been almost three weeks now. Since the first of March. I feel something’s happened to her. I know I’d of heard from her by now. I called the agency where she works out of and they told me they never heard from her since she vanished.

When did you say she disappeared again?

On Wednesday, March first.

What was the name and address of the house she worked in?

The name is Andrews. 1644 Maple Drive. She was looking after a man named Mr. Stanley Andrews, a diabetic with a heart condition.

The detective looked surprised. Did you say the name is Andrews? On Maple Drive?

Yes. Why? What is it?

Be sure to fill out the form I gave you and if you have a recent photograph, we can use it. I’ll be right back, said the detective, rising quickly from his chair and rushing out of the office. The man studied the form with a puzzled look on his face.

The detective hurried down the stairs, through a long corridor to another office. He knocked at the door. A voice from inside called to come in. The detective opened the door quickly and said, Anderson, do you remember getting a report of a missing girl on Wednesday, March the first, by the name of Gloria Howard?

That’s correct. Why?

"There’s a guy in my office reporting his lady friend as missing from the same address on Maple Drive, on the same day."

Really? How interesting. Two women missing from the same house on the same day.

The detective sat down on a chair near Anderson’s desk and went on with: The guy’s married, having an affair. She worked there as a nurse. He said it was her day off. She went out and never came back. She has no family or close friends except him. When I suggested that maybe she didn’t like her job there caring for the husband, he said she’d have told him. They were very close.

Anderson nodded and then asked, Did you tell him about the Howard girl?

No. I came straight to you.

The door opened. A female officer in plain clothes entered. She was Helen Kaplan, the department psychologist and assistant to Anderson.

Having overheard part of the conversation, she asked for more details. Anderson obliged:

"Last week we got a report about a missing girl who lived in a house on Maple Drive. She was young, in her twenties, and rented a room there. Her uncle, Doctor Harold Howard, a local dentist, wondered why he hadn’t heard from his niece for a while. So, one day he went to Maple Drive asking to see her. The landlady, Mrs. Amanda Andrews, said that Miss Howard had moved. This information surprised Dr. Howard because his niece always confided in him. If she had plans to move, she would have told him, he reasoned. Well, he asked if she had left a forwarding address. The landlady said she did. That she had moved to 232 Garden Road. Howard drove off to that address only to find out there’s a Garden Road, but no 232. The numbers only go as high as 198. He became frantic, knocked on doors, and showed her picture to all the neighbors, some of which he knew, as a number of them are his patients. No one claimed to have known the young lady or to have seen her in the area. He thought Mrs. Andrews made a mistake so he went back to her, only the woman became abusive and nasty, and called him every name she could think of, slamming the door in his face. He was amazed and bewildered at her reaction.

"From there, he drove off to the shop where she worked. Elaine’s Gift Shop, I suppose you’ve heard of the place. One of her coworkers, who was also a good friend, told him that Gloria was frightened of the goings-on in that house, that she didn’t think the inhabitants were quite normal. Her friend advised her to move. The friend’s husband said he knew two nice old ladies who rented rooms. Good friends of his mother, widows, who rented to young ladies. They evidently need the money. He gave her their names and addresses.

"The following day, Gloria got her monthly period. We were told she always gets pretty sick with pains and stomach cramps. She went to work that day and the pains got worse. Ms. Howard’s employer, Mrs. Elaine Gritfin, who was very understanding, told her to take the rest of the day off. She didn’t like the way Ms. Howard looked, so she personally drove her home in her car. When they got to the front stoop, she watched her go into the house. The next day, Gloria called saying she was still too sick to report to work. That was on Thursday, March second. Her friends never saw her again. Neither did her uncle. He came here and reported her as missing. He also posted a $10,000 reward.

Now we just found out that an RN has disappeared on the same day from the same house. She was working and living there. Her patient is Stanley Andrews, a very sick man. She went out on her day off and hasn’t been seen anymore. What do you make of it?

I’d say that a lot more than just a mere coincidence. It bears looking into.

They all agreed.

The detective from Missing Persons said a few more words before departing, and quickly ascended the steps, and hurried back to his office. Looking around he saw the man who was waiting for him was gone.

On his desk was the filled out form plus a photograph of the missing woman. He lifted it up to get a closer look. It was a simple picture of just her face. Not a bad looker, he thought. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, light complexion, a toothy smile with perfect pearl white teeth. From the picture he determined that she looked young, but he knew pictures could be deceiving. He knew people could be more photogenic than others, although she looked fairly attractive. He noted the signature on the bottom of the form. Arthur M. Logan. The signature was a shaky, trembling style of a nervous person.

He read the rest of the form. The missing woman was Frances Mary Noble, RN, Caucasian, age, 28, single, five foot four inches, weight, approximately 120 pounds, no distinguishing marks, scars or tattoos. Wore contact lenses, was in good health. Hobbies were reading, knitting, playing the piano. Liked walking, swimming, and horseback riding. Didn’t smoke or drink. Religion: Protestant.

He went over to the file cabinet looking for the Howard file. He thumbed through a few papers until he came to it, pulled it, and compared it with the new one.

Gloria Howard, sales clerk, Caucasian, age, 22, single, five foot two inches, approximate weight, 110 pounds, large mole on right cheek, brown hair, brown eyes. Suffered from migraine, borderline diabetic, and dysmenorrhea. Hobbies: none; likes Bingo. Doesn’t smoke. Has an occasional drink (in moderation). Religion: Roman Catholic. He looked for a common denominator. There were five. They were both single, in their twenties, were white, Christians and neither smoked. No other obvious comparisons that he could see.

He then took out a pen from his top drawer, preparing a file on the other missing woman.

Downstairs in Lieutenant Anderson’s office, the new case was being discussed and diagnosed. Helen Kaplan asked, Did you know that I have a sister-in-law who’s a nurse? I was thinking—

Anderson cut her off. It’s too risky. We couldn’t take a chance like that.

But Ken, she’s well trained in self-defense. She’s taken courses in—

Again he cut her off. I don’t care what kind of courses or training she’s had. The answer is no.

If we could get her into that house, we may be able to learn—

"How many times must I tell you? I said no and I mean no."

Kaplan didn’t like to be unheard. She persisted, tenacious as a bull dog, until Anderson asked, What kind of courses did you say she took?

Self-Defense, Judo, and Karate. Her husband taught her how to use a gun.

Kenneth Anderson was quiet, deep in thought. She took that as a sign that he was about to give in. He sucked in his breath.

All right. If you have faith in her ability. But we’ll have to have her closely watched.

Helen sighed and reached for the phone.

CHAPTER 2

The train from Treesport was pulling into the Meadowwood station, while a couple stood on the platform together, waiting and watching as the train came to a full stop. They looked carefully at the passengers leaving the train to pick out someone. As a lone woman was the last to leave, the couple rushed up to her asking, Are you the person we’re waiting for? The new nurse for Mr. Andrews?

I am, confirmed the woman. My name’s Weiss.

The man introduced himself. I’m Jack Andrews, the son of your patient, and this is Annie, our housekeeper.

The women nodded at each other.

Is that Miss or Mrs.? asked Jack.

Ms.! answered the nurse, sharply.

Oh, well, where’s your luggage? Jack asked, looking at the small overnight bag and the nurse’s kit that she was carrying.

Just this for now. I’m having the rest of my things sent to the house. They’ll arrive tomorrow, said the nurse, handing Jack her overnight bag.

Just then a familiar figure came toward them, waving and smiling. It was Anderson. He called out, Sylvia! Sylvia!

The others turned, looking at him, wondering who he was.

Sylvia, pretending to recognize him, said loudly, Well, if it isn’t Ken.

What in hell are you doing here, in Meadowood?

I have a new job at the Andrews’ house on Maple Drive.

"This is a big surprise, seeing you again right here in town. Just wait ’til I tell