Three Seasons

By Geoffrey A. Feller

Natalie Dvorak #20:

Detective-Sergeant Natalie Dvorak of the Vermont State Police says goodbye to her mother at a family funeral. Two of her friends attend the service to lend support, Chief Kate Billings of the Lake Dakib, Minnesota, Police and Lieutenant Cheryl Grant of the Burlington Police Department. After the funeral, the three “sisters of the badge” gather at Natalie’s home to share stories of police work during the past year. In “The Hard Freeze”, Kate tells the story of a body found frozen in lake ice that reopens a missing person case now ruled a homicide. The victim was a young handyman who seemed to be well-liked in the community. But popularity can breed resentment among certain individuals. Could that be enough to make someone kill? Cheryl’s problem in “Community Policing” is a rookie cop whom Cheryl tried to remove from the force. The veteran lieutenant and the young patrol officer clash over how to deal with a homeless man; when a wrongful death occurs, Cheryl takes charge of the investigation while her teenage son gets into trouble. Natalie tells her friends about “A Haunted Homicide” at an abandoned old house. Preparing to film a horror movie on location, the author of the original story spends the night at the house but turns up dead by morning. A producer, a director, the film’s leading lady, and a production assistant are all suspects, assuming a ghost didn’t commit the crime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geoffrey A. Feller
• Release date: Aug 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005868819

Geoffrey A. Feller

I was born fifty-seven years ago in the Bible belt but grew up in a Massachusetts college town. I am married and my wife and I have moved frequently since we met. We've lived in Minnesota, Massachusetts, and New Mexico, as well as a brief residency in Berlin, Germany. I have worked peripherally in health care, banking, and insurance. In addition to writing, I have done a bit of amateur acting and comedy performances. I am afraid of heights but public speaking doesn't scare me. My wife and I live in Albuquerque with our chihuahua.

Book preview

THREE

SEASONS

by Geoffrey A. Feller

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 by Geoffrey A. Feller

The Hard Freeze • Community Policing • A Haunted Homicide

CHAPTER ONE:

THE WATER NYMPHS

The family gathered in a small function room at a restaurant in Montpelier, near the State House. There had been a ceremony for the 1980 State Police promotions a couple of hours earlier; one of the State Troopers honored was sitting at the table.

I am not one to make speeches, Stefan Dvorak declared after rising from his chair. That would be something for my son to do.

A sardonic smile appeared on his dark face, his deep blue eyes mischievous. Stefan nodded to his right at Henry, who smiled back with good humor. Both father and son were short and had prominent noses. Henry was bald at forty-six while his seventy year old father had a full head of hair, gray and cropped short.

Beatrice, Henry’s mother and Stefan’s wife, was seated to the patriarch’s left. She had white hair and grayish-green eyes and was the shortest person at the table; this was a family of below-average stature. To Henry’s right were his wife Margaret and their two teenage daughters, Melanie and Becky. The State Trooper was sitting to Beatrice’s left. This was thirty-seven year old Natalie, with her Dvorak nose and eyes along with thick hair like Beatrice’s. But hers was still dark brown.

My son, the professor, Stefan continued in his mild Czech accent, who lectures about great literature at the university. He appreciates art in the form of the written word. Art appreciation comes from his mother, my Beatrice, a most talented painter.

Beatrice smiled gratefully.

And Henry married an artist, the lady from London, Margaret, another talented painter. What would Herr Freud say?

Stefan! Beatrice complained even though the rest of the family laughed.

So then our daughter Natalie has perhaps chosen to emulate me, her father. I, who used to study the health and growth of trees, and Natalie, whose career in criminology has taken a great stride forward this day, represent the scientific discipline.

Psychology, too, Grandpa, Melanie suggested. Auntie will have to use psychology to be a detective.

Yes, Stefan agreed. To get the criminal’s confession.

He smiled at his grand-daughter. Seventeen years old and on her way to Radcliffe in the fall. Such an intelligent girl! But Melanie was so young that it wasn’t yet clear whether she would lean towards art or science. On the other hand, fifteen year-old Becky was already showing an affinity for the latter.

Natalie was wearing her uniform from the ceremony although her work would generally be done in plainclothes. But she had a detective badge now and was feeling happier than at any other time in the past ten years.

We are all so proud of you, Natalia, Stefan said, using a pet, Slavic name for his daughter.

He raised his wine glass to toast her.

Thank you, Papa, Natalie said, standing up from her chair.

Stefan held out his arms to her. This invitation to an embrace brought a lump to her throat; her Old-World father had never been especially affectionate.

The rest of the family applauded while father and daughter hugged each other.

It’s not only science, Natalie whispered in Stefan’s ear. There’s also an art to getting people to talk.

You, my dearest girl, are a hybrid.

I guess so.

Beatrice hugged Natalie from behind. Then everyone wanted to get into the act. Henry, Margaret, and the girls each took their turns.

Melanie was virtually the same height as her aunt. She had Margaret’s heart-shaped face and short nose but her eyes were Dvorak-blue.

If only Artie could see you now! Melanie declared.

Do not mention that man’s name! Stefan shouted.

Melanie shuddered but Natalie squeezed the girl’s shoulders.

Papa, it’s all right, she said, keeping eye contact with Melanie. Artie can’t hurt me anymore. Maybe he should know I’m more of a cop than he ever was. Melanie’s just being her sassy little self like I was at her age.

Then she looked back towards her parents.

Remember?

I sure do, Beatrice replied somewhat ruefully.

Sorry, Melanie sighed. Bad luck mentioning your ex-husband?

On the contrary, Henry spoke up. As Natalie said.

Bad luck or not, Stefan said, that’s quite enough about Arthur Bixby.

No one disputed him.

It’s been a long time since Papa was that proud of me, Henry said to Natalie in a private moment outside the dining hall.

Are things that bad between you? Natalie asked with a concerned frown.

Never been the same since the Prague Spring. He put that portrait of Alexander Dubček up in his study and became a militant anti-communist. Hell, I admire Dubček, too! But he thinks voting for McGovern and Carter puts us at risk for a Soviet invasion.

Good thing I didn’t vote for them, Natalie smiled.

Go ahead and laugh.

I love you, big brother, Natalie said. You might be slightly pink but you’re hardly red. I’m sure Papa knows that, too. And loves you as much as I do. Now, you might think I’m a fascist pig cop…

No, I don’t! There are bad cops but you aren’t one of them. My baby sister could never be a bad cop!

Well, I hope not.

You’re very ethical, Henry nodded.

Natalie put her hand on his arm.

You want me to speak to Papa? she asked.

No, that’s all right. I think I was being too sensitive. He was sort of kidding with me just now, did you notice?

I noticed. You should still tell Papa how you feel, while there’s still time.

Nine years later at Lakeview Cemetery in Burlington, Natalie was thinking of that conversation as she looked down at the marble headstone marking her father’s final resting place. Natalie read:

STEFAN DVORAK

1910-1981

Below it was a bas-relief carving of a sugar maple tree. There was a blank space next to Stefan’s name and lifespan. Natalie almost turned around to look for Beatrice and maybe make some smart-ass remark about the double occupancy burial plot. But, no, the engraver would be along within days to carve the second name into the stone.

Natalie was now an orphan.

Honey…

The voice was that of her husband, Dan Moritz. Now Natalie did turn from the gravesite and walked over to meet him. Dan was a foot taller than she was; Natalie pushed her face into his broad chest. They were both in their mid-forties and fought aging with weight-lifting. Dan was bald and Natalie’s hair was beginning to turn gray.

Ready to go back to Henry’s? Dan asked.

Yeah, Natalie said, standing back to look up into his eyes.

They walked, holding hands, to Natalie’s car, a Chevy Cavalier, in the parking lot.

Although Natalie and Dan lived about sixty miles to the south in the mountain town of Holbrook, they were staying with Natalie’s brother and his family at Henry’s large house in Colchester, next to Burlington. Natalie’s nieces Melanie and Becky were up from the Boston area along with Melanie’s boyfriend Simon. Dan’s daughter from his first marriage, Elaine, was also staying with the other mourners.

The funeral would be on the following day, before noon.

Natalie was thinking of how Dan had never met her father. Stefan’s death had been a few months before Natalie met the big man from Holbrook. Dan had been and still was the lone policeman in town; he and Natalie met at the site of a fatal one-car collision. Before long, Natalie seduced Dan away from his wife, Michelle.

Although Beatrice hadn’t been happy with Natalie for breaking up Dan’s marriage, during the several years she was his mother-in-law, Beatrice adored Dan and was happy that Natalie’s second marriage was better than her first.

Natalie thought her father would have liked Dan. He would have wanted a man to treat his daughter with kindness and respect; Dan certainly accomplished that and more.

Melanie and Simon had arrived in Melanie’s vintage Volkswagen Beetle with Becky as another passenger. Elaine had driven in from Albany in her Corvette. Both cars were parked in the driveway behind Henry’s Saab and Margaret’s Buick Electra so Natalie pulled over to the roadside in front of the house.

She and Dan walked up the white stone garden path to the front door. It opened before either of them could touch the knob.

Oh, there you are! Margaret Dvorak exclaimed in her slight West London accent; as an exchange college student, she had married Henry twenty-eight years ago. Your Elaine is here. She’s visiting with Melanie and Simon downstairs.

We saw her car, Dan said as he walked inside.

I don’t believe Elaine met Simon before.

Natalie smirked and thought that might be interesting.

Simon worked at a video store while Melanie was an editor for a feminist newsletter. Elaine had reached the point in her wrestling career where she was able to quit her day job and buy the Corvette.

Melanie’s room had been relocated to the finished basement to give her more privacy. Throughout college and up until recently, the older daughter had been notoriously promiscuous. Becky’s room had been next to her sister’s and the noise that sometimes came through the wall irritated the serious young lady. Melanie playing songs like Sugar Walls on her stereo at a high volume to drown out cries of ecstasy hadn’t helped matters.

Partitioned off from the storage area and with its own half-bath, Melanie’s room had a queen bed, a desk, and her stereo system. There was also a TV connected to a VCR. A rope carpet covered the concrete floor. There was a love seat in addition to the desk chair.

Natalie walked right in and found Simon standing face to face with Elaine. Natalie’s stepdaughter was almost six feet tall with long dark hair. Her massive arms and shoulders were as obvious as her buxom chest in a tank top and cargo pants. Simon, wearing a T-shirt and denim shorts, was slightly bigger than Elaine although he lacked defined muscles like hers.

Auntie! Melanie called from her bed where she was sitting up and watching the other two.

What’s all this? Natalie asked, looking to Simon.

He had dark hair, kind eyes, and was smiling at her through his beard.

We’re about to wrestle.

You think you know what you’re doing? Natalie asked, hugging him hello.

He still lifts weights, Auntie.

Natalie grinned and felt Simon’s biceps. They were as dense as car-tire rubber. But Natalie knew that Elaine’s muscles were more like iron. She pulled Elaine into a light kiss on the lips before whispering in her ear.

Don’t hurt him.

I won’t, Elaine whispered back.

Come here, Melanie told Natalie, patting the mattress to her right.

They kissed and Natalie hugged her niece around the shoulders. Melanie was built like the gymnast she’d been in high school and had only recently quit her job as a bike messenger. All four of the people in the room lifted weights but Melanie was weaker than Natalie, even though she was twenty years younger. As a tag team, Elaine and Natalie would easily beat Simon and Melanie.

The Mighty Maple, Natalie nodded, reciting Elaine’s ring name. What’s Simon’s alias going to be?

Herbie the Hunk, Melanie said, a play on her boyfriend’s surname, Herbst.

Any wrestling experience? Natalie asked Simon. Wrestling team in high school?

No, but I was in school plays so I can do the acting part of professional wrestling.

Hey! Elaine reacted in mock-offense. I’ll show you acting!

She grabbed Simon around the ribs and pushed him. Simon planted his feet on the floor and held his ground. Then he pushed back, using his weight against Elaine. But he was only about 15 pounds heavier, not enough to overpower his opponent.

Aren’t you strong! Elaine giggled. Stronger than most of the girls in the league.

Most of them? Simon asked, panting from the effort.

You could beat Red Rhonda, I think.

She’s toying with him, Natalie whispered to Melanie. Making Simon exhaust himself before going in for the kill.

I know, Melanie whispered back. Serves him right, though. He does that to me.

"And Dan does that to me, Natalie smiled. I think your boyfriend is enjoying this!"

Melanie nodded.

But you can’t beat me! Elaine declared.

We’ll see… Simon gasped.

Elaine held him in check for a long minute before lifting Simon