The Julie Avery Mystery Trilogy Part 3: The Architect

By Beverly J. Graves

THE ARCHITECT is the last book in author Julie Avery's Mystery Trilogy, following HER NEW BOOK where we met Brandon Jenkins, her high school boyfriend and Eric Players, her tragic new love interest and the second episode, then THE CURSE OF APARTMENT 5B which explored the people and the curse at West End Manor where Julie and her cat Spot, move t

• Language: English
• Publisher: ReadersMagnet LLC
• Release date: Nov 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781959165989

Beverly J. Graves

Beverly lives in Pella, Iowa with husband, Don. She is retired and volunteers in community events that keep her busy. She's been actively involved with community theater for almost 40 years performing and directing 50+ productions. She has written several plays and skits, and seen them brought to life on stage. Her love of theater encouraged her to organize a children's drama group at church that ran for eleven years. Beverly says, "It is a joy to see young actors grow up to become confident, outstanding young adults."

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Eric Players had been a scrawny quiet kid growing up in the small borough of Middletown, Pennsylvania, on the Susquehanna River, ten miles southeast of Harrisburg and about a hundred miles northwest of Philadelphia. It had a population of a little over 8,000 and was known as the oldest community in Dauphin County, founded in 1755. Those statistics didn’t mean much to young Eric who hadn’t been very popular throughout grade school and high school, partially because he was an only child, but mostly because his mother had died when he was in the third grade, so it had just been him and his dad from then on.

Eric’s dad, Ben Players, was a rough, burly man who worked construction all his life. He was the lead contractor on jobs with a company called Streeter Construction. His boss and owner of the company, Fred Streeter, valued Ben as an employee and gave him the responsibility to handle the job sites and supervise the other workers. Financially, the position provided well for Ben and Eric but the loving, nurturing part of being a parent wasn’t in Ben Players’ nature and Eric suffered because of it.

Not having a mom had been difficult. Ben never remarried so Eric and his dad learned to function without a woman in their lives. Grade school was never the same for Eric after his mom died; his dad wasn’t very diligent at attending PTA meetings or coming to other school functions like Eric’s mom had been, so Eric withdrew from school activities and any possible friends along with it.

Ben Players loved sports of all kinds. Football, basketball, baseball, soccer, you name it, and he was always there in the living room with a beer in his hand cheering on his favorite team. Knowing how much his dad loved sports, Eric tried watching with his dad but just couldn’t seem to develop the same passion. His dad was disappointed that his son didn’t share the same interests.

In a last ditch effort to please his dad, Eric tried to participate in school sports but soon realized he would never be good at them. He wasn’t strong enough or coordinated enough. He sat on the bench or in the dugout for most of the seasons and finally Eric told his dad that sports just weren’t for him and ended his involvement in sports of any kind and probably any of the closeness he might have had with his father went along with them.

Eric felt he had let his dad down, he had tried, but he barely managed to make it through the required Phys Ed course. Seeing his dad’s disappointment during his grade school attempts at sports, Eric didn’t even enjoy going to the high school games to watch. His lack of friends meant there was no one to go with anyway and the girls all turned away if Eric even approached anywhere near them in the hall. He would never have gotten up the courage to ask one of them to the after-game dances even though he had often wanted to. He had decided not to make an attempt because, even if he had mustered up enough nerve, he knew the answer would have been the same. It was the usual story, the girls only wanted the jocks; so no sense embarrassing himself. The girls didn’t give a second glance to the scrawny, quiet kid who had no mother.

His early school days hadn’t been an enjoyable time for Eric. Because he wasn’t good at sports, he had turned to his studies, particularly Art. He spent a lot of time in the school library and volunteered after school hours restocking shelves and he would find a quiet corner where he could read after he was done. He was often bullied by the other boys for spending so much time in the library. They called him a bookworm and made fun of him constantly and sometimes, even the girls joined in. Brainiacs just weren’t popular. So, throughout school, Eric kept to himself, or at least he tried to.

Billy Waters, the Players’ next door neighbor was the worst. Billy and Eric were the same age but they were never friends. Eric didn’t know why, but every day Billy picked on Eric as they waited for the bus. Eric would wait in the front doorway until he saw the bus pull up and he would run out hoping to get on before Billy arrived, but Billy was always there waiting. Hey, dipsticks, what ya got in your lunch bag today? Anything I’d like? ‘Oh, here we go again,’ Eric thought. ‘I might as well just pack my lunch and go over to Billy’s house and give it to him to avoid any further trouble.’ But Eric knew even that wouldn’t help, Billy would find something else to ridicule him about.

So when Eric gave Billy his lunch bag and got on the bus, the other guys cheered – for Billy, of course! It was a no win situation. He either gave up the lunch bag willingly or risked getting punched. Either way he was going to be made fun of by everyone on the bus. The girls snuggled together and pointed at him and giggled when he walked passed and took his seat at the back of the bus. He could hear them whispering and looking at him. He got a sketch book out of his backpack and opened it. He didn’t need friends; his art was his comfort.

Eric made up his mind that he could handle the other guys mocking him and the stupid girls as long as he didn’t have to engage in a fight with Billy; so giving him his lunch was the best possible outcome. Besides, he had a Twinkie and an apple in his backpack that dumb Billy didn’t know about. Eric would have liked to show Billy exactly what he thought of him, but Billy was bigger and stronger than Eric and any physical contact would not have ended in Eric’s favor. He had found that out when he had tried once to save his lunch by kicking Billy in the shins. That just ended up with Eric getting a black eye and a tear in his new jacket. The bus driver had turned his head and looked the other way; he wasn’t paid enough to get involved with boys who wanted to fight. They could settle things on their own as long as they both kept it outside and it was over before they got on the bus.

When Eric got home from school that day, Ben Players had been mad at first. Your new jacket? Do you know what that cost? I’m not made of money. Eric, why didn’t you punch him back? Stand up for yourself.

Dad, I tried. Billy Waters is a bully. He takes my lunch every day.

You got to hit him back; that’s the only way to handle a bully. I’ve told you that before.

Dad, he’s so much bigger than me, I don’t have a chance. I tried by kicking him in the shins and look where it got me. Eric started to cry.

Okay, okay, knock off the cry baby stuff, I don’t want to hear it. If you want to give up your lunch every day to Billy, then who am I stop you. Ben Players had washed his hands of the situation and left Eric to handle it himself. Eric watched his dad walk away and turn on the TV to watch a football game. Eric never really forgot how his father had deserted him when he needed him the most. He was just like Eric’s mom; she had left him too.

Eric was eight the day he sat in the church pew next to his father. The organ music filled the huge sanctuary. People had been coming in and stopping to hug Ben and Eric. His dad had told him that his mom wouldn’t be coming home and that her ashes were in the silver jar that sat at the front of the altar. ‘What does he mean mom’s ashes are in that jar?’ Eric didn’t fully understand. He knew his mom had been sick since he was three but why isn’t she coming home?

He had spent a big part of his early childhood in doctor’s offices and hospital waiting rooms. He didn’t understand exactly what was wrong with his mom. No one took the time to try to explain it to the quiet little boy who sat alone in the hospital waiting room, but he knew it must be serious based on the look on his dad’s face when they returned from the doctor’s exam room. No one ever bothered to tell him why she had to spend so many long days at the clinic and the many weeks she was in the hospital before his dad said she would not be coming home again. It was years later that he learned she had died of breast cancer after fighting it for five years; finally, her body and her will gave up. Eric didn’t know how to grieve; he just felt she had abandoned him.

Whenever he thought about his mom, Eric couldn’t always remember her face, but she had baked the most wonderful cookies for him to take for the school Christmas party. When he tried real hard, he could almost smell them. He particularly remembered the time she had helped decorate the Christmas tree in his Kindergarten class room and then stayed for the pageant where he was the innkeeper in the Nativity play. She had applauded and cheered along with the other mothers. Eric knew she was so proud of him when he said his one line, I’m sorry there is no room at the inn. When he had looked her way, she was smiling and gave him a thumbs up. Just bits and pieces of fleeting memories of a tall blonde woman who had held him and who smelled so wonderful. ‘Why then did she leave me?’ Eric often asked himself, but there was no answer that comforted him.

Ben had been devastated, of course, when his wife died and his own personal grief kept him from noticing what his son was going through. He knew Eric didn’t care for sports, so they didn’t have anything to talk about. Their life consisted of Ben going to work and Eric going to school and studying in his room. Ben hadn’t bothered to look at the report cards each quarter when Eric left them on the kitchen table and Eric finally quit bringing them home and his dad never asked about them. Eric put his dad’s initials on the bottom of the card each time and returned them to his teachers. The teachers never knew the difference and if they did, they never mentioned it. It wasn’t their place to care for the sad little boy as long as he didn’t make any trouble.

When Ben finally realized that Eric had withdrawn from all school activities and didn’t seem to have any friends, it was almost too late. Two years had gone by before Ben shook himself out of his grief and depression and discovered he should be helping his son recover from the loss of his mother. He didn’t know where to start, but he knew he had to do something. A friend from work suggested to Ben that he could ask Eric to help him work on evening projects in their garage, maybe that would help. Ben decided to give it a shot.

Eric, I’ve been thinking maybe we should get a dog. What do you think? Ben asked Eric one night after supper as he was clearing the dishes from the table. Eric was heading for his bedroom.

I don’t care. Eric had responded. It suddenly dawned on Ben that his wallowing in his personal grief had affected more than just his own life. His son needed him, especially if a ten-year old boy wasn’t enthused about getting a dog. The realization of how he had been neglecting Eric was like a cold slap in the face. Ben knew he had to try to get through to his son somehow.

Well, I was thinking maybe you could help me build a dog house and then we could go to the animal shelter and pick out one. Hmmm? Ben asked his son.

Eric paused when his dad suggested building a dog house. A dog house? You mean, we can build it? That might be fun. Really, when can we start?

Well, right now if you want to; let’s head to the garage and work on some plans. Ben suggested. He was surprised and pleased at Eric’s quick response.

Okaaay. Ben could hear the immediate change in his son’s voice and hoped that this would be a start to helping Eric and maybe himself out of the depression they both had succumbed to when Eric’s mom had died. Ben knew that two years of grieving was long enough; they needed to get on with life.

What kind of dog house are we going to build? Eric asked as they walked to the garage in the back yard. Ben could hear the change in his son’s voice.

What kind of dog do you want? Ben responded. We can build one especially for it.

Well, I don’t know, I suppose any kind will be okay. What kind do you want? Eric asked.

We can see what they have at the animal shelter. Let’s go on Saturday; how about we take the one that likes us best. What do you think? Ben said.

Sure, that way we can plan on building a special dog house that works for just the exact dog we get. Eric agreed.

Seeing his son’s sudden interest in building a dog house was a pleasant surprise for Ben, even though Eric hadn’t been that interested in actually getting the dog. Ben had been a contractor his entire life but, now seeing his son interested in perhaps learning something about the construction trade, was exciting for Ben.

When they got to the garage, Ben got out a large piece of paper, a pencil and a ruler and sat down with Eric next to him and began to talk about what kind of dog house they should build. What do you think, Eric? Something big and fancy or a simple little one? Ben asked.

Dad, let me research some dog house plans first and then we can build something really special. Eric’s enthusiasm was growing and Ben was very pleased he had suggested it.

Okay, where do you think we should put the dog house? Ben asked to keep Eric engaged in their long overdue conversation. The back yard is big, so wherever you want it.

Close by the house, I would think, so I can go out to feed him and check to see if he’s ok in the night if we have a storm or something. What do you think? Eric was getting excited about the idea.

I think that would work great; just off the back patio close to the house it is. Ben responded.

The next couple of days, Eric spent at the library reading about dog houses and then he began drawing out his own ideas.

His research told him the dog house should have a floor that sits far enough above the ground to prevent water from entering on the rainiest of days and insulate it from the cold ground in the winter if the dog was going to be an outside dog. ‘That makes good sense.’ Eric thought.

The dog house should be large enough for the dog to turn around in but small enough so that the dog’s natural body heat would help keep it warm in the cooler weather. There was especially a caution to drive the nails in accurately so no nail points would be sticking out that would cause injury to the dog. Eric agreed that was the most important thing. He wanted his dog