Sunday lunch this week was at Dr. and Mrs. Lewis' house. "We've been over to your place for the past several weeks," Margaret had explained. "Let me do the entertaining this time. Besides, I have a new recipe I want to try out."
Caryn, Julie, and Michael had no sooner been admitted to the rebuilt farmhouse when Julie turned to Dr. Lewis. "Can you show Michael your library – Please?" she asked excitedly. "It is so cool - I just know he is going to love it!"
"Okay, if you insist," the doctor chuckled. "If you two ladies will excuse us?" he nodded to his wife and Caryn.
"Go ahead," his wife smiled. "I know how you love to show off your retreat."
Smiling, the doctor led Julie and Michael down the main hallway, towards a room which had been added onto the back of the house.
"Now, be prepared," Julie warned as the doctor pushed the door open.
"Oh My Gosh!" Michael breathed as he walked into the spacious room. "This is incredible!"
"You like my little hideaway?" the doctor asked with a smile.
Directly in front of them was a wall of windows looking out over the rustic backyard. Outside awnings, which appeared to be constructed of wood, screened the room from direct sunlight. On the wall to their right was a fieldstone fireplace with a mantel containing an exhibit of family photographs as well as various mementos and, scattered throughout the room, were comfortable looking chairs and couches interspersed with end tables containing reading lamps. However, it was the book shelves which lined the other two walls of the room that caught Michael's eye. Extending from the floor to the ceiling, each set consisted of a rotating circular carousel, containing hard covered as well as paperback books. A 'floating' ladder was attached to the ceiling and could be moved between the various carousels.
"How many books do you have in here?" Michael exclaimed, looking around. "And, how are they organized?"
"As for how many books, it's hard to say," the doctor replied. "Some of these are my wife's and some are mine. We lost track a long time ago."
"Now that batch over there," he pointed to a carousel on the left wall, "Are my reference books and medical journals. On the shelves next to them are my wife's 'classics' and then her murder mysteries and popular fiction. Then we have my various enthusiasms – Spy fiction and espionage, biography, and true crime are the most prevalent."
"Your medical books are here?" Michael asked, walking over to the area indicated.
"Yes, where I can easily consult them," was the reply. "And, as you can see, I have my favorite chair sitting right there in front of them."
"As much as I hate to interrupt the tour, lunch is ready," Mrs. Lewis called to them from the doorway. "You can finish up in here later."
"Yes, Dear," the doctor smiled at his wife. "We'll be right there."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"That was delicious!" Caryn exclaimed at the end of the meal. "Margaret, you really outdid yourself this time! I have never had Corish game hen prepared like that!"
"Mom is right. The Cornish game hen was great!" Julie added her praise. "And the wild rice stuffing was delicious!"
"Thank you," Margaret beamed at her guests. "I wasn't sure about this new recipe, but it seems to have worked out just fine."
"Another excellent job, my dear," Dr. Lewis added his praise.
"It was – very good," Michael got the impression that he was expected to add his opinion. "Especially the coffee flavored cake you made for dessert."
"Thank you, Michael," Mrs. Lewis chortled. "That particular dessert is my oldest son's favorite. I make it every year for his birthday."
"And, now," Dr. Lewis stood up. "If you ladies will excuse us, I would like to examine Michael's injuries and I believe that is best done in private. Michael?" He looked over at the young man.
"Okay," Michael agreed, as he also stood up. "But I must tell you that everything appears to be well on its way to healing up. I rarely experience any soreness or discomfort anymore."
"Well, what if I take a look just to be on the safe side?" the doctor suggested as he led the way out of the dining room.
"You are right," was the verdict a short time later as they sat in the library. "It appears that, physically, you are just about healed up. Now, I need to ask about – "
"The nightmares?" Michael guessed. He took a deep breath.
"I am still having them," he confessed. "And they have been getting clearer. They are about dead people and mutilated bodies and missing body parts and they scare me!"
"What about them scares you?" the doctor asked gently.
"What if I am the one who did these things – The things I dream about?" Michael blurted out. "I don't want it to be me, but what if it is? What will happen to me if I get caught?" He sounded desperate.
"Well, first off," the doctor sounded thoughtful. "The fact that you are worried, upset, and more than a little scared about it tells me that you probably aren't involved. Plus, I don't recall hearing about any serial killers operating around here lately."
"But, then, why am I dreaming about it? The dreams have to be coming from somewhere," Michael pointed out.
"I can think of three very reasonable, logical explanations for your dreams," the doctor told him. "1) You saw a scary movie and it is still haunting you; 2) You played a video game based on some sort of a mass murder scenario and you keep replaying it in your head; or 3) You heard or read about some horrific event that made a very deep impression on you. Anyone of those could account for your nightmares."
"How do I deal with them?" Michael asked sadly.
"Just hang in there," Dr. Lewis told him. "And, if they don't taper off in another week or so, I will see about giving you something to help you sleep. But, remember, as far as we know, you haven't done anything wrong!"
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
In the kitchen, Caryn and Margaret were discussing Michael.
"So, you are e-mailing local colleges and universities checking to see if they are missing a member of their staff?" Margaret asked.
"Yes. I concocted a story about having run into him in an airport and him taking the time to give my daughter some very good advice concerning selecting a major and a college," Caryn explained. "I have been explaining that I want to thank him for his time and his advice, but that I had forgotten which school he was affiliated with. So far I have contacted five colleges, but I haven't gotten any responses yet."
"That story does sound believable," Margaret told her, shaking her head. "Honestly, I can't believe these yarns you come up. You would have made a great undercover agent."
"I prefer to think of myself as an undiscovered novelist," Caryn laughed. "Now, did Dr. Lewis try the state police post again?"
"He did," Margaret confirmed. "And, they let him go through any notices that he could locate. It seems that the officer who usually handles them has been out due to a family emergency so they are basically in a state of confusion. However, from what he could find, there wasn't anything there that sounded remotely like Michael."
"So, we keep searching," Caryn sighed. "Someone out there has to be looking for him."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Later that evening, after their guests had left, Dr. Lewis returned to his library, walked over to the True Crime section of his bookshelves, and began searching.
"What are you looking for, Dear?" his wife had tracked him down and was standing watching him.
"I have been thinking," the doctor replied. "And, I want to look something up. It concerns mass murderers and I believe it is in one of the books by that FBI guy. The one with the Italian sounding name like Roselli or Rosco, something starting with an R. Ah Ha – Here it is – Rossi!"
"What did you think of Caryn this afternoon?" Margaret asked unexpectedly.
"Her new haircut?" was the response. "I thought it looked very nice."
"She was wearing a new top, too," his wife observed. "It was much more fitted that anything I have ever seen her wear before. And, she had that chiffon scarf draped around her neck."
"She did say that she took some time to go shopping by herself yesterday," the doctor was paging through the book he had selected.
"Well, it's about time she did something for herself for a change," Margaret stated. "And, maybe that means she's ready to start moving on with her life. Possibly get out a bit more."
"Just a minute, now," the doctor looked over at her. "I know that look in your eyes. That's your 'Matchmaker' look. Just because Caryn got a haircut and bought herself a new top doesn't mean that she is in the market for male companionship."
"I know Dear," his wife replied. "However – "
"Well, after you find what you are looking for, come on to bed," she added almost nonchalantly. "You have a long day planned for tomorrow."