Crime Fiction by Jason Smith
Randy Lloyd had always loved gardening, when he was six years old he started helping his father in the garden. In his teenage years Randy wasn’t rebelling against the norm or drag racing cars, he was gardening. After high school, Randy went to college and achieved degrees in Horticulture and Landscape Architecture. It was at college that he met Sally, they were married after graduation and Randy started his own landscaping company, which he ran until he retired at sixty five.
He never planned what he was going to do with himself once he retired. All he did was sit around watching television, until one day he saw a video of a man landscaping a garden for free on an online video app. The man was doing it either for people who needed help or to make a neighbourhood eyesore look better for the community. Randy could think of several houses that needed landscaping and he thought it could be his way of giving back to his community.
Landscaping had kept Randy in shape. He’d never drank, smoked or taken drugs and he’d been eating his own home grown vegetables since he was a child. His doctor had told him he was in pretty good shape for a sixty five year old man.
“Don’t you want to take it easy?” Asked Sally.
“I can do this at my own pace and when I feel like it. I can also film it for the website I built. There’s a house in Ballard, it’s a heck of a mess. I was going to talk to the owner later.”
Later, Randy was standing outside the house in Ballard. The grass was about four feet high on the front lawn and from his vantage point the grass in the back looked higher. He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A tall, thin man with wiry hair answered the door.
“Hello, can I help you?” said the man.
“Hi, my name is Randy Lloyd and I was wondering if you need help with your garden. There will be no charge, all free. I’ll be filming the whole thing for my website. Would you be interested?”
“You’ll do it for free?” asked the man.
“Yes, your garden is one of many in this area that need attention. It’s my way of giving back to the community.”
“What a wonderful idea but I don’t want to be on camera.” said the man.
“That’s no problem but can I ask, how did it get like this?”
“Oh, I’m the new owner, it was like this when I bought the property. The previous owner was disabled and couldn’t afford a landscaper.”
“Well, can I start tomorrow?” asked Randy.
“I’ll be heading out of town for a few days tomorrow. Will you need to get inside the house?”
“No sir, I’m self sufficient. It will take two or three days, it’ll be a nice surprise when you get home.”
“Yes it will, well thank you Mr Lloyd and good day.”
“I didn’t catch your name,” said Randy.
“My name is Peter Nielsen.”
“Nice to meet you Mr Nielson.”
They shook hands and Peter Neilson closed the door. Randy got into his truck and drove away.
***
He arrived at the house at 9am the next morning. He’d set himself up with a cooler full of ice, water and food and he had all the tools he needed. An edger, a weed wacker, a leaf blower, his brand new stand on mower, shovels, rakes, a wheelbarrow and plenty of garden refuse bags. He was ready. As he looked at the back of the property there was a smell and he knew something had died back there.
After setting up all his drones and cameras he decided to tackle the front lawn first. It was a lot smaller than the back lawn and would be done before the day was over. Randy was sure all the people who lived in the street would appreciate it.
He started cutting the grass with his weed wacker. The grass was tall and thick, there would be a lot of raking. His arms and back ached a little, he’d been sitting on the couch too much lately but it felt good getting his hands dirty.
As soon as the grass was shorter he could see the garden was full of trash. After collecting all of the trash he began mowing. Then he started the longest process of the day, raking, edging and shovelling, but it was worth it. At the end of the day the front lawn looked so much better. The grass was short and the lines were straight. Randy felt like he’d done a good job. He went around the back for one final look before calling it a day.
He knew it would take a couple of days to do the bigger rear lawn, he would have to do it in sections and the smell seemed stronger than earlier.
“What the heck could cause such a smell?”
Randy looked over his shoulder, a man was standing by the side of the house.
“Hey, are you the new owner?” said the man.
“Hi, I’m Randy. No, I’m not the owner.”
They shook hands. “Bob Wagner, nice to meet you, I live next door. Did the owner hire you?”
“No sir, I’m doing this for free. Now that I’m retired, I thought I could give back to the community, you know where it needs help.” Randy said, pointing at the tall and overgrown grass.
“Oh, like that guy in Detroit?”
“Yes.” replied Randy with a smile.
“Did you meet the owner?” asked Bob.
“Yes, said his name is Peter Nielsen.”
“That’s strange, I didn’t know Gerald had sold his house. I never saw a for sale sign.”
“He said the previous owner was disabled and couldn’t afford a landscaper.”
“Yes, Gerald was in an automobile accident with his wife about eighteen months ago. He broke his back and his wife was killed. He was in a wheelchair afterwards and mostly stayed in and kept to himself. I only would see him when he went out to medical appointments. I used to see carers coming and going, but I haven’t seen one for a few days. I’m glad you’re cleaning this up though, maybe you’ll find out what that damn smell is.”
“Yes, I don’t know what the heck it is but I’m not looking forward to finding it.”
“Being like that for a week now. When the wind blows, you can smell it in my house.”
***
The next day Randy arrived at 9am and got to work on the back lawn. His weed wacker was working overtime. The trash was everywhere, he would fill up five fifty five gallon bags before his day was finished. Come quitting time, half the garden had been weed wacked, mowed and raked. Randy was holding off edging the lines until the whole garden had been mowed.
He looked into the kitchen window and saw the sink was full of dirty dishes with bugs all over them. As Randy looked away the wind blew the smell towards him. What is that smell?
***
The next day he was back at 9am sharp. It was warm already and he imagined the smell would be stronger in the heat. As he walked around the side of the house to the back garden he saw Peter Nielsen. He was standing by a wheelbarrow, a big bag was sitting on it, insects buzzing around it.
“Mr Nielsen, I wasn’t expecting you. How does it look?” asked Randy.
“So much better Mr Lloyd, I can’t thank you enough.”
“What’s that?” asked Randy.
“That’s the source of the smell, I think it’s a bear.”
“Around here, well I guess it’s possible. How’d you move it by yourself?”
“It had lost a lot of body weight from decomposition and I think rats and other animals have been eating it. It wasn’t very heavy.”
After Peter Nielsen had left with the dead bear, Randy examined the area where it had been. You could see where it had been dragged, it didn’t look big enough of a shape to be a bear. He thought no more of it and got to work, it already smelt better back there.
After weed wacking, mowing, lots of raking, edging, shovelling and filling up garden refuse bags the rear garden was finally finished. Randy walked over to the stained grass where the bear’s body had been. It didn’t look big enough, even for a young bear. As he looked at the stained grass further he saw something glistening in the sunlight. As he bent down for a closer look he realized it was army dog tags. The name Gerald Massey was stamped on them.
“Hey, you finished?”
Randy looked over at Bob Wagner’s smiling face.
“And the smell has gone,” said Randy.
Bob took a deep breath through his nose. “What was it?”
“A bear.”
“A bear? Seriously?” said Bob.
“When I got here this morning, the owner was back here. He moved it, I never saw it.”
“Where was it?”
Randy showed Bob the discolored patch of grass where the bear’s body had been.
“Doesn’t seem big enough for a bear and I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a bear around here.” Said Bob.
“I remember one was spotted around Seattle about fifteen years ago,” said Randy.
“Before I was living here but still, that doesn’t look big enough for a bear.” said Bob as he pointed to the grass.
“Come look at this.”
Randy led Bob over to the kitchen window and showed him the dirty dishes covered in bugs.
“That’s strange. I would have thought the carers would have cleaned up for Gerald, I wonder when he died. I looked online, there is nothing about him. No obituary, nothing.”
“I found these also, near the stained grass.”
Bob stared at the dog tags and then looked at the stain.
“Is it me or is that stain human shape, it’s about Gerald’s size.”
They both stood in silence, both wondering the same thing.
“Do you think we should call the police?” asked Bob.
Randy felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, Sally was texting him, asking how long he was going to be.
“I think we’re letting our imagination run amok,” said Randy.
“Yeah, you’re right, I watch too many true crime documentaries. Well, thanks for doing this. I’m so glad that smell is gone.”
They shook hands and Bob Wagner left. As the sun was lowering in the sky, the house was casting a shadow over the back garden. As Randy looked at the stained grass, he swore he could make out the shape of arms and legs. He shook his head and loaded his truck. Before he left he looked back at the house. Something was giving him the creeps, it was like the house was trying to tell him something. He drove away and just before he turned the corner he thought he saw a brief glimpse of a couple in his side mirror. As he made the turn, he glanced up the street but no one was there.
On the way home he stopped at a local burger joint to get dinner for Sally and himself. As he drove home, he was eating fries, he was starving. He parked his truck and walked to his front door. He briefly looked over his front lawn and flowerbeds before going inside his house.
When he opened the door he saw Sally duct taped to a chair. He rushed to her and heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Before he could do anything he felt a heavy thud on the back of his head.
***
He didn’t know how long it had been when he came around. He felt groggy and the first thing he saw was Sally. She was still duct taped to the chair, he tried to go to her but he couldn’t move.
“Hello Mr Lloyd, how is the lawn looking?” asked Peter Nielsen.
Randy tried to talk but a piece of duct tape had been placed over his mouth.
“I wasn’t going to do this but I overheard your conversation with Mr Wagner and you really left me with no choice. You see Mr Lloyd, the smell in the garden was Gerald. I’d been his carer and he had no will left to live so I helped send him on his way. That’s what I do, help the elderly on their way, so many of them have had enough of living. I call it euthanasia.”
Peter Nielsen walked to the window and closed the curtains. Sally began to whimper, she knew what was coming. Randy felt helpless, he couldn’t get free, there was nothing he could do. He would do anything for one final kiss from Sally. She’d always insisted on goodbye kisses every time he left the house. She’d always said you’ll never know when it will be for the last time.
Peter Nielsen was looking out the rear window at the immaculate garden. “I wanted to move Gerald into the house the night before you came to landscape the garden but I couldn’t. Bob Wagner was standing on top of a stepladder, on his side of the fence, shining a flashlight into the garden. I really did have to go out of town on business and I ran out of time. If Bob Wagner had just minded his own business, this unpleasantness wouldn’t be happening.”
A few hours later Peter Nielsen was inside Bob Wagner’s bedroom staring down at his lifeless body. The white bed sheets were stained crimson red.
Peter knew he would have to leave Seattle. Four bodies were waiting to be found and when they did it would become unlivable in Seattle. As he drove onto the I-5 freeway he didn’t know where he was going but he would know when he got there.
Bio: Jason Smith resides in Washington State. His stories have been published in Short-Story.Me, The Yard Crime Blog and Mystery Tribune. You can find him on Instagram
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