The Curious Case of the Brevard Recluse

By W. M. J. Kreucher

In the serene town of Brevard, Sally Fowler's ordinary childhood takes a sharp turn when she stumbles upon the lifeless body of an elderly recluse while playing near the local pickleball court. Officer David Chapman, navigating the peculiar circumstances surrounding the recluse's death, uncovers clues that upend the initial assumption of a heart

• Language: English
• Publisher: dandelion man press
• Release date: Feb 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869199805

W. M. J. Kreucher

W. M. J. Kreucher is a Detroit native, hailing from the vibrant west side of the city. With a career spanning over three decades, he dedicated himself to the automotive industry, particularly focusing on environmental initiatives. His expertise lies in providing technical support for legislation and regulations, with a keen emphasis on clean fuels and vehicle fuel economy. Notably, Kreucher has lent his talents to ghostwriting for esteemed Congressmen and Senators, as well as contributing to the authorship of significant legislation and regulations.Now, having concluded his illustrious professional chapter, Kreucher ventures into the realm of fiction writing. Some may jest that crafting narratives for politicians is akin to fiction, but he now embraces the creative pursuit wholeheartedly, acknowledging the distinction between political rhetoric and storytelling. As he embarks on this new journey, Kreucher brings with him a wealth of experiences and insights, ready to weave captivating tales that resonate with readers far beyond the realm of politics.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Body in the Woods

You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heath of life?

—Khalil Gibran

Nestled in the embrace of the Blue Ridge Mountains, Brevard, the picturesque little town, settled into twilight. The air carried the fragrance of pine needles intermingled with the last remnants of dinner from the nearby diners. Houses tucked cozily against the verdant foothills exuded a welcoming glow from their windows, while the distant chatter of a few lingering locals echoed through the streets. Porch lights flickered on, painting the streets with a warm, inviting glow as neighbors exchanged evening pleasantries, their voices fading into the growing dusk. Known for its tight-knit community and warm hospitality, the locals took pride in their town and its natural surroundings. The scent of pine mingled with the oncoming coolness of the night, wrapping the town in a comforting embrace.

Amidst this serene backdrop, the Pisgah Forest came alive with the sounds of nature. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on the forest floor, illuminating the nocturnal symphony unfolding. Whispers of wings filled the air as bats took flight, their sonar guiding them through the darkness. The scent of damp earth mingled with the sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, as if the night held secrets waiting to be discovered. From the bushes and canopy, the sound of leaves rustling reverberated. Creatures, ranging from the tiniest insects to the great black bear that dominated this forest, left their daytime sanctuaries and embraced the night.

Yet, amidst this harmonious transition, an unanticipated disruption pierced the tranquility.

Into this serene landscape, a pickup truck—a weathered remnant of bygone years—slipped off the main road onto a secluded dirt path, its headlights eerily absent, casting the forest into a deeper darkness. The abrupt intrusion disrupted the peace, scattering the wildlife and leaving only the echoes of retreating footsteps.

From the truck's passenger side emerged a figure, hunched and unsteady, navigating the uneven terrain with faltering steps. Each movement seemed a struggle against the encroaching shadows, the figure's silhouette betraying a sense of urgency and disorientation amidst the woodland stillness.

On the opposite side of the vehicle, a second figure emerged—a stark contrast to the first in posture and purpose. This shadow moved with a determined gait, clutching something small and shimmering in the dim light. One figure following the other. Closer and closer. The determined figure approached the stumbling one, their actions appearing almost choreographed, a dance of secrecy and confusion.

A sudden scuffle broke through the forest's tranquil chorus. A muffled tussle lasted but a few heartbeats before the flailing hands of the frail figure were laid to rest, collapsing onto the forest floor. Silence engulfed the scene, save for the soft rustling of leaves disturbed by the unsettling event.

With calculated motions, the driver knelt next to the fallen figure, swiftly unwrapping something from the lifeless neck. Their movements held a meticulous precision, as if rehearsed—a mysterious exchange that unfolded in the cloak of night. Retrieving a small jar from behind the truck's front seat, the driver poured a viscous substance onto the motionless body, its opaque texture glistening in the dim moonlight. Kneeling down once again, the figure brushed the hair on the lifeless body.

I had to do it, the figure whispered into the ear of the body, lying motionless on the ground. Please forgive me.

A heavy exhale punctuated the stillness—a sigh laden with the weight of an unspeakable burden reverberating through the forest. In the aftermath, the driver stood alone, a silhouette against the backdrop of swaying trees, their posture conveying a complex interplay of resolve and conflict.

The silhouette retreated to the safety of the pickup. Inside, the silence felt palpable, amplifying the weight of the moment. The driver's hand hovered uncertainly over the ignition, wrestling with indecision in the enveloping darkness. The night enveloped the vehicle, its inscrutable depths mirroring the tangled thoughts of the driver.

The pickup rumbled to life, gliding through the night without the customary intrusion of headlights, tracing a path away from Brevard. The darkness not only veiled the road ahead but also the enigmatic motives and laden conscience of the driver.

In this quiet moment, the forest became a sanctuary, a place where the driver momentarily escaped the chaos of their thoughts. The rustling of the animals served as a reminder that life continued, even in the midst of turmoil. Without turning on the headlights, the pickup truck made its way down the deserted road away from town.

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As the truck pulled away, the normal tranquil nature of the evening forest slowly returned. An eerie silence befell the forest. Cautiously, three racoons approached the lifeless body. Sniffing the air, the familiar sweet aroma beckoned them ever closer. The largest racoon licked the hand lying on the ground. As a second racoon approached, curious what his brother found, the larger racoon snapped, asserting his dominance, demanding retreat. The stench of anger filled the forest tonight. Three female deer seem unconcerned with the scrapping and went about tasting the fresh growth in search of vegetation. A mother black bear and her two cubs ambled up to the commotion, chasing the other critters away. Even together, the raccoons would not take on a black bear. The mother bear sniffed the air. The pleasant aroma beckoned her as she licked the hand. Enjoying the taste, she clicked her tongue. The two cubs looked up then joined their mother, one on each side, taking turns licking the hands. The mother bear turned her attention to the upper body. Licking the face and neck, she clawed at the throat, scratching deeper in search of more of the tasty morsel. Rubbing her giant paws over the face, she licked the pad of her hand. Blood poured onto the ground. The cubs sniffed the blood and, distracted from their snack, began investigating. The momma bear swatted her cubs away and went back to licking the blood now gushing from the lifeless body. Over and over, the bear tossed and turned the body of the man, dragging it along, rolling it over. Eventually, the threesome lost interest and wandered off in search of other delicacies.

The bears wandered into the garbage cans behind the Brevard Health and Racket Club. The momma bear climbed on top of the large dumpster and searched for a way to lift the lid in order to gain access to the smells inside. With a determined look on her face, Momma searched high and low, but the key to unlock the tantalizing smorgasbord remained elusive. Undeterred, she gracefully descended and gathered her curious cubs, ready to move on to the next exciting destination. As they continued their town tour, the bustling streets captivated their senses. The aroma of bread baking in ovens mingled with the scent of blooming flowers. Wide eyed, the cubs took in the colorful storefronts and ornate architecture. The gentle night breeze brushed against their fur, carrying with it the promise of new discoveries. With each step on the asphalt of the now deserted Rosman Highway, their excitement grew, fueling their curiosity about the next exciting destination. As they continued their journey, the anticipation built with every step they took. Each new destination brought a surge of excitement that ignited their curiosity even further. The allure of the unknown fueled their desire to explore and discover what lies ahead. With each passing moment, their enthusiasm grew, propelling them forward to the next exhilarating adventure. They found joy in the anticipation, relishing the thrill of not knowing what awaited them at the next stop. The possibilities were endless, and their eagerness to uncover new experiences drove them to keep moving, eager to uncover the hidden gems that awaited them on their path.

Reaching the edge of town, the three black bears lumbered across the asphalt towards the forest in search of a stream that held the promise of a fresh trout. Suddenly, a deafening roar filled the air, shattering the tranquility of the sleeping city. A massive male black bear enraged by the smell of blood emerged from the shadows, muscles rippling beneath its thick coat. The female black bear froze, the cubs’ eyes widening with fear.

The male charged forward, its massive paws pounding the ground, causing the earth to tremble beneath its weight. The three black bears scrambled, their instincts screaming at them to find safety.

With lightning speed, the female black bear darted towards the forest, desperate to escape the wrath of the angry male. Together, mother and cubs sprinted towards the stream, their hearts pounding in sync with their thundering footsteps.

As they reached the edge of the stream, the male’s roar faded into the distance. They dove into the crystal-clear waters of the stream, feeling its cool embrace washing away their exhaustion. The scent of pine and the sounds of rushing water greeted them. The promise of a fresh trout became their lifeline, their hope of survival.

The three bears feasted on the succulent trout; their hunger finally sated. They licked their fur, grateful for the forest’s refuge and the strength that carried them through the asphalt adventure.

And as they rested beneath the towering canopy, they dreamed of new adventures, knowing that the untamed wilderness was their true home. The sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Birds sung melodies of freedom, their sweet notes echoing through the tranquil air. The earthy scent of moss and damp soil filled their nostrils, mingling with the refreshing aroma of wildflowers. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, whispering secrets of the untamed world. In this sanctuary of nature, a profound sense of peace enveloped them, grounding their spirits and fueling their wanderlust.

Chapter Two

Sally Fowler loved the stars. Though she was only ten years old, ever since she could remember, she would lie on the grass in her backyard and gaze at the night sky, wondering what secrets they held. She dreamed of becoming an astronomer and exploring the mysteries of the universe. With her wide, curious eyes, and a heart brimming with dreams, Sally had a passion that soared higher than the stars themselves.

Sally found solace in the shimmering night sky. She spent countless nights drawing intricate sky maps on her bedroom ceiling, mapping out constellations and dreaming of a future among the stars.

 Sally often brought home books about space from the library. She was fascinated by everything related to STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics). And she excelled in STEM subjects at school, finding comfort and joy in the mathematical precision. Two plus two always equaled four. There was no subjectivity, no opinions that differed. No chance for debate. Her enthusiasm for learning about the cosmos only grew stronger with each passing day. She was enchanted by the mysteries of the universe and aspired to go to the prestigious Pisgah Astronomical Research Institute summer camp program in nearby Rosman when she got older.

 Sally had heard about the Pisgah Astronomical Research Institute from her teachers at Brevard Elementary. The Institute hosted summer camps that could ignite Sally’s dreams, but financial constraints posed a formidable barrier. Her mother, a hardworking single parent, did her best to support Sally’s dreams, nurturing her daughter’s love for science and astronomy. In the evening, after putting Sally to bed, Amy would read to her daughter from the books she brought home from the library. Sometimes they would take turns making up fantastic stories about the planets and space exploration. Sally would write these stories in her journal. She would beg her mother to allow her to go to the camp when she was old enough, but the answer was always the same. There was no money for such an extravagant expense.

Sally’s heart sank at the thought of not being able to attend the camp that could be a steppingstone toward her future.

 But not everyone shared her passion. At school, her classmates mocked her, calling her a nerd. They called her other names as well, teased her, and made fun of her. The children said she was weird, boring, and ugly. They said she would never fit in. Make no friends. They said she would never achieve her dreams.

Sally tried to ignore them, but it hurt. She felt lonely and sad, wishing she had someone who understood her and supported her. She wished she had someone who shared her love for the stars.

One Saturday morning, Sally Fowler walked slowly down the street from her house towards the Sunrise Café where her mother worked. Sometimes she would help her mother, who worked there as a waitress. Today, she took the shortcut through the woods. As she walked, she kicked stones, walking with her head down. There was nobody with her. When you are lonely, even the streets seem unwelcoming. The woods seem more friendly. A white squirrel scampered across her path, chittering at her, seemingly asking where she was going.

Good morning, Mr. Squirrel. How are you today? I am glad you came to visit me. You can be my friend. None of the other kids will play with me. No, don’t run away. I won’t hurt you. Oh, please, stay with me for just a while. Sally ran after the white squirrel. She had been in these woods hundreds, thousands of times. She never feared she would get lost. As she walked, she came across a young fawn nursing at her mother’s side. Sally watched in awe at the majesty of nature. When the fawn noticed the young ten-year-old, she backed away from her mother and leapt and jumped, frightened by the sudden appearance of a stranger.

I’m sorry, little deer. I didn’t mean to disturb your breakfast.

The doe snorted, warning her young charge of the potential danger, and the fawn scampered deeper into the forest.

Sally crept after the two deer, trying to move silently through the twigs and leaves that covered the forest floor. The deer were too quick for the young girl and were soon no longer visible. Crying, Sally sat on a nearby log. Why don’t I have any friends?

In the distance, Sally noticed a man sleeping. There were many days when Sally slept in the woods. She enjoyed the peace and tranquility. Sally walked over to the man.

Good morning. Sally said.

There was no answer.

My name is Sally. What’s your name? My mother says I shouldn’t talk to strangers. But I like you. You seem nice. You remind me of a grandfather. All my friends have grandfathers. I don’t … I don’t even have a father. It’s just Momma and me. We live alone in town. How come you’re all cattywampus? That can’t be comfortable. Here, let me help you. I don’t mind.

Sally straightened out the man’s arms and legs. He was lying face down.

My, you are all dirty. Do you mind if I clean you a bit? Sally said to the man lying in front of her.

Sally walked over to a nearby stream, took off her shirt, and dipped it into the cold water. Returning to the man, she tenderly washed his hands and neck.

I’ll bet that cool water feels good on your neck. I like to splash cool water on my face sometimes when I walk in the woods, especially on hot days. Do you live around here?

Sally sat on the ground at the side