Chapter 29: Agents of Change, Part II

22 February 1993 – Avocado Street, Springfield, Massachusetts

Jeff parked his truck at Connecticut River Valley Ambulance’s headquarters and grabbed his coat and stethoscope. For an industrial area, CRVA’s garage wasn’t in too bad of a spot. Nestled at the end of a dead-end street and up against the Connecticut River, it was easy to forget where you were. The road noise from nearby Interstate 91 was the only hint you might be near civilization.

Jeff inhaled a lungful of crisp winter air as he exited his truck. The air near CRVA’s garage was clean today, owing to the southwest wind coming up the river. The winter sun tried its best to warm the air, but the mid-twenties temperature won that battle. However, the weak sun did, at least, keep the pavement clear. The crews wouldn’t eat their dinners along the riverfront as they did in the summer, though.

Jeff entered through the employee entrance and stepped into the crew room. He checked the ambulance assignments to ensure he and Gene would use Ambulance 15 for their shift. Gene entered a minute later, and they traded their standard greetings and insults.

They heard yelling coming from the front office while they punched in. Whoever yelled probably made the front office staff deaf. They walked towards the front of the building and heard a loud <crash> before they reached the office door.

Jeff and Gene entered in time to see Dawn Ebersole stomping away from the building. The front door flapped open in the breeze, and its hydraulic closing arm hung twisted and useless from the frame. Bill Harris, Stu Masterson, and Connie Willis all scowled at the sight. Stu wore his street clothes, while Connie and Bill wore their uniforms. Bill sighed and waved everyone towards the crew room.

“People! May I have your attention, please?” Bill called to the other crews. They looked at him, curious. “Dawn Ebersole is no longer employed at Connecticut River Valley Ambulance. Please do not allow her access to company property or vehicles as of this date. If she does show up here, please notify me, the on-duty supervisor, or the local police as necessary.”

Bill motioned the original group from the office out to the garage. Then, at the back of Ambulance 15, he explained what happened to Gene and Jeff in low tones.

“Guys, I rode third with Connie and Dawn today. Unfortunately, unlike the two of you, Dawn has not made the progress we like to see in new employees over the five months she’s been here. Based on the reports I’ve gotten from Stu and Connie, she’s started to backslide. Watching her performance today, she appeared to me like a misplaced rookie. Her skills were marginal. Even worse, she showed little empathy for our patients.”

“Back here in my office, we showed her the facts. We had stacks of signed preceptor reports, which Dawn countersigned, detailing her initial progress and then her regression. I wanted to offer her an extended probationary period until she started spewing invective.”

“Invective?” Gene asked before Jeff could.

“She called me a ‘fucking dyke,’” Connie said with anger evident in her voice. “We’ve worked together for five months, and she knows that I’m gay, but she didn’t say a word about it until just now. So she’d better not ever cross my path again.”

“Her shifts will be open for a while. Our other trainees are already assigned other shifts. We don’t have anyone else in the pipeline at the moment. So we won’t get another surge of applications until the next batch of local EMT classes finishes, based on experience.”

They talked for a few more minutes until Stu needed to leave for his son’s basketball game.

“Connie, does she know where you live?” Jeff asked.

“I don’t believe so, no.”

“Just watch your surroundings back at the apartment. I wouldn’t put anything past Dawn at this point.”

“I’m glad you were home today, Jeff. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You would have called my dad, eventually,” Jeff replied while the Valley Automotive flatbed pulled away with Connie’s car.

“Sure, an hour from now when I stopped freaking out. What did you say it might be?”

“Hopefully, just the transmission shift solenoids. Those control the flow of the transmission fluid and make the car shift. Dad’ll have it figured out pretty quick, and fixing it shouldn’t take more than a few hours if that’s what it is. Shouldn’t be too expensive in that case, either.”

“Well, with Steve not charging me much in rent, I’ve been able to build up my savings. So as long as it’s not the actual transmission, I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Steve knew you needed to get your feet back under you over the past two and a half months. Don’t sweat it. Let’s get back inside if we’re going to keep chatting. It’s too cold out here to be standing around this parking lot.”

Connie noticed the message light blinking on the answering machine when they entered the kitchen from the back deck. She pressed the button, and the messages began to play.

“Connie, Jeff, it’s Bill Harris. Call CRVA when you get this message. <BEEP>”

“Connie. Jeff. It’s Stu Masterson, and it’s about 10:30 on Wednesday morning. Call the office as soon as you get this. <BEEP>”

“Guys, it’s Bill again. Would you please call in as soon as you get this message? <BEEP>”

”<End of messages.>”

“We were only outside for thirty minutes. I wonder what’s so important?” Connie asked as she dialed CRVA’s number.

“Hey, Paul, it’s Connie Willis. We ... Wow, whatever it is, I’m being transferred to Bill Harris already ... Hey, Bill, it’s Connie. Yeah, he’s here with me. Why?” Jeff saw Connie’s face fall when she received the answer to her question. “No...” she wailed. “Oh, no! Okay. We’ll be there. Bye, Bill.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Jeff, they coded Mr. Noke this morning,” she replied while a tear tracked down her face. “He’s dead. There’s a preliminary meeting about him at CRVA at two p.m.”

The two roommates didn’t get much accomplished around the apartment before they left for the meeting. A somber Connie and Jeff joined a silent crowd in the crew room at CRVA later that afternoon. The Noke family hadn’t announced any arrangements yet. But the company came up with a plan to honor Mr. Noke at his funeral.

“Hey, Jeff, Paul in dispatch got a message for you from your dad,” Neil Fournier informed him before he and Connie left an hour later.

“Thanks, Neil,” Jeff replied as he read the note Neil handed him. “Connie, your car’s ready. We’ll stop at my dad’s garage on the way back to the apartment.”

“Seems like you were right again – that it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Hold off on your exuberance until Dad hands you the bill.”

“You’re a real wet blanket, you know?”

“I do what I can.”

Thirty minutes later, Joe Knox handed Connie an invoice for her car’s repair.

“Mr. Knox, you only charged me for parts. What about the time you spent working on the car? Your labor costs?”

“Joseph spent barely half an hour working on your car.” Joseph was Jerry Gulbicki’s son. A skilled mechanic, his work enhanced Valley Automotive’s already stellar reputation. “And you’re what ... less than three months out from that fire? So let this be our way of helping you out a bit more.”

“Okay, okay,” Connie relented. “But full price next time! You can’t keep the lights on here if you keep giving away your time!”

“With Jeff out of the house, we’re still saving money on food. So I don’t have to work as hard here.” Jeff gave his father the finger. “Your mother would wash your mouth out with soap if she saw that.”

“For what? I didn’t say anything.”

“Go on, git. Some of us have work to do.”

Jeff followed Connie back to Bilzarian’s and saw no trouble with Connie’s car on the way. She reported none after they parked their vehicles.

“Hey, did you check the mail before we left?” she asked him.

“No, I thought you did,” he answered before they walked to the street.

There was a mail slot in the door to the front staircase. The lights from the Common and the businesses lit the center of town while the daytime faded to night. Connie and Jeff collected their mail and walked up the stairs after securing the front door. Jeff pulled the shades down before turning on the lights there.

“It’s been about a month since you told me you felt that someone was watching you. So why are you still pulling the shades and curtains before you turn on the lights?”

“Part of it is a habit now, I suppose, Connie. Part of it’s not wanting to give the enemy a chance to study our movements.”

“Enemy?”

“Sounds pretty paranoid, I know, but...”

Connie laughed at him. Jeff started making dinner, one of his specialties: spaghetti carbonara.

“I don’t know how you can eat this stuff and keep your girlish figure,” she said while he plated the cheesy bacon and pea-laced pasta thirty minutes later.

“I’ll run an extra mile tomorrow,” he quipped as he sat.

Before tasting a single forkful of the meal, they heard a muffled <bang> from the back of the building.

“Wait!” Jeff barked when Connie moved towards the door to the back deck.

He darted into his bedroom and returned with the same shotgun and .45 he used to defend himself almost a year earlier.

“The hair on the back of my neck’s been standing up since we came home. Kill the lights.”

Connie didn’t question him and did as he asked. With the lights off, Jeff used a window over the driveway to check the back parking lot. He waved Connie into the living room area and turned off those lights. Jeff picked up the cordless phone.

“Enfield 9-1-1, this call is being recorded. What is your emergency?”

“Mrs. Somersworth? It’s Jeff Knox at Bilzarian’s again.”

“Jeff? More trouble at your place?”

“Yes, Ma’am. 223 Main Street, Bilzarian’s parking lot for two cars on fire.”

“My car?” Connie cried. She tried to push past Jeff, but he forced her to the same window he looked out earlier. Jeff also blocked her path to the back door.

“Don’t go out there, Connie. I don’t like this.”

“Jeff? Are you still there?”

“I’m here, Mrs. Somersworth. I was keeping my roommate from going out to our back deck. Something’s wrong with this whole situation, and it’s got me on edge.”

“They refill propane tanks at Bilzarian’s. Where are you parked in relation to their storage tank?”

“Opposite side of the lot, Ma’am. Our vehicles are well away from the propane. The burning vehicles are an ‘83 Chevy K-10 pickup and an ‘83 Chevy Chevette hatchback. There’s a hydrant just down the street, in front of 219 Main.” Jeff heard the first fire engine pull down the driveway. He listened to their radio call over the phone also. “The fire department’s here, Mrs. Somersworth, so I’ll let you go. Ask the officers responding to check the door off the loading dock again, please?”

“Will do, Jeff. Call back if you need something.” Jeff hung up.

Now Connie questioned him. “Jeff, what’s going on? Why won’t you let me out there?”

“Do you remember the car fire they had off Division Street in Springfield right after I started at CRVA last year?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Vaguely, why?” she replied in the same quiet voice.

“A former boyfriend set his ex-girlfriend’s car on fire and then stabbed her when she came out of her apartment to look. The lights on the deck are out. Someone is waiting for us outside, Connie; I can feel it.”

“Okay, you’re weirding me out now. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier when you asked me why I always pull the shades after dark. I had a vague feeling, but I wasn’t sure. So now, I don’t want whoever is out there to know where we are, what we’re doing, or that we’re armed.”

“You think somebody is waiting for us out there?” Jeff could hear the fear creeping into Connie’s voice.

“I wasn’t sure until our cars caught fire, but now? Absolutely! Anyone coming in here uninvited is getting a load of double-aught buck right in the chest, followed by a slug. If anything happens, I want you in your room with the deadbolt locked.”

Jeff installed a lock for Connie when she moved in, though she’d never used it. Now, Connie curled herself into a ball on the floor outside her room while Jeff stood guard over her. Five minutes later, Jeff heard yelling on the back deck. Male voices barked commands over and over for about thirty seconds, then silence. A minute after that, someone knocked on the back door.

“Jeff, it’s Jack,” a welcome voice called.

The lights on the deck were still out, even though the switch for them was on. So Jack Dwadczik lit his face with his flashlight so Jeff could see him.

Jeff unlocked and opened the door. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said.

“Yeah, when you invite me over, why are there always intruders and firearms involved?” Jack asked, pointing to the shotgun Jeff held at a low-ready position and the .45 in his waistband.

“Where’s that dyke bitch, Jeff?” a loud, coarse voice shouted. “I’m gonna kill her! I’m the one who’s interested in you! I’m the one who’s interested in men!”

Jeff pointed his flashlight in the direction of the voice. The beam lit the snarling face of a woman he hoped he’d never see again. An aluminum softball bat lay next to her.

“Dawn Ebersole,” he sighed.

“You know who this woman is?”

“Dawn Ebersole. She used to work for the same ambulance company in Springfield that Connie and I do. Unfortunately, she was fired about two months ago.”

“It was that bitch in there who got me fired! I’m gonna kill her! Come out here, bitch! I’m going to give you what you’ve got coming to you!”

“Pete, did we Mirandize her?” Jack asked one of the officers holding her down.

“Sure did, Sarge. As soon as we took her down.”

“Spontaneous utterance, then. You two get her out of here.”

The two other officers wrestled the small, angry woman down the stairs.

“Can I come in, Jeff?” Jeff opened the screen door, and his old friend stepped in. Jeff turned the kitchen lights on. Connie no longer sat on the floor, and her room’s door was closed.

Jeff ran through the sequence of the day’s events for Jack. Jack asked him a few questions for clarification, then asked Jeff to sign a statement. Jeff quickly agreed and inquired about a restraining order against Dawn.

“And I’m sure Steve Bilzarian will ask for at least a criminal trespass warning against her as well, Jack.”

“He’s got it as soon as he asks. It’s a good thing that you parked your vehicles across the lot from that propane tank. I hate to think about what could have happened if the fire had been next to it. An explosion from a tank that size could have leveled the whole business district.”

“Do you need to speak to Connie?”

“I do, yes.”

Jeff knocked on Connie’s door, but there was no answer. Then, finally, a sheet of paper with a signed statement slid its way out from under the door.

“This is good enough for tonight, Jeff. I’ll be in touch if we need more. It’s clear to me that woman intended to ambush you and your roommate tonight. There are signs that she forced the door downstairs. She unscrewed the light bulbs over the deck, and she was lying in wait for the two of you. I think you threw off her plans when you used the front door. She lit your cars on fire and planned to attack when you came out to the fire. I’m glad you had a hunch on this; I’d rather not investigate a double homicide, especially the deaths of people I know.”

Jeff shook his head. “Unreal. All right, thanks, Jack. Keep in touch. You think they’ll keep her locked up for a while?”

“No bail is a guarantee on this, and so’s your request for an emergency restraining order. You’ll have to go to court in Northampton to have that extended past forty-eight hours. She’s going to buy a thirty-day evaluation committal at Bridgewater at least.” Bridgewater State Hospital is where the Commonwealth sends defendants who need mental health evaluations before trial. “Odds are you’ll never have to see her again if you’re lucky.”

Jeff thanked Jack and showed him out the back door. The deck would remain off-limits until the police processed the crime scene, possibly into tomorrow morning, so Connie and Jeff would have to enter and exit via the front stairs. After locking up, Jeff made another attempt to talk with Connie to no avail. He’d have to borrow a car from his Dad to get to work tomorrow. A phone call to his parents’ house confirmed a couple he could borrow at his father’s garage. Joe would pick Jeff up an hour before his scheduled shift for the drive to the garage.

Jeff unloaded the shotgun. He put it and the shells back into the gun safe. The loaded .45 went under his pillow.

The following day, Jeff found Connie’s door still closed. CRVA hadn’t called looking for her after six a.m., so Jeff guessed she called out for her shift. Jeff dressed and walked to the Valley Credit Union branch where he did his banking. The manager assured Jeff could get a cashier’s check for a new vehicle whenever Jeff needed it. The manager also told him he’d deliver it personally anywhere in the valley to facilitate the process. There was plenty of money in Jeff’s account to cover a new vehicle.

Jeff walked back to Bilzarian’s to talk with Steve. The car fire blackened the spot where he and Connie had parked, but repair costs would be minimal since the lot was cinders and not pavement. Left unsaid was any concerns Steve might have over Jeff’s second violent incident in two years.

Jeff returned to the apartment to find Connie’s door still closed. He sighed and went about preparing for his shift. Jeff prepared his uniform, packed a dinner, then ate his lunch. After lunch, he shaved, showered, and changed. Finally, he waited for his father on the store’s loading dock.

At CRVA, Jeff learned he was correct about that morning. Connie called out for her scheduled shift the night before, citing the need to secure another vehicle. Jeff’s shift with Gene was unremarkable: all transfers and no responses.

Mr. Noke’s wake would be the following evening in Springfield. The funeral would be Friday morning. Gene, Stu, and Jeff planned to wear uniforms of their respective armed services to both. CRVA staff who weren’t veterans would wear their work uniforms with ties, work jackets, and white gloves.

When Jeff returned home at midnight, Connie’s door stood open, but her belongings were gone. An envelope with his name sat on the coffee table in the living room. With it was her apartment and room keys. The envelope held a thank you card and a check.