Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller

by Michaela James

  Reaching into an inside pocket of his navy-blue blazer, Detective Smyth produced a folded piece of white paper. Carefully bringing the document to its original legal size, he smoothed it out atop the coffee table.

  The image resembled an enlarged driver’s license photograph. Stew wasn’t what Scarlet had expected, but then she hadn’t given his appearance any thought. There was no fork-tail, no horns or fangs. This suspected serial killer had reddish blond thinning hair and pale blue watery eyes drooping at the outer edges. The skin around his jawline and neck was loose and wrinkled.

  “This photo is a couple of years old,” Smyth said, refolding the paper and returning it to his inside breast pocket. “He could have less hair and perhaps gained or lost weight in those years.” Picking up his cup, Smyth enquired, “Do you recognize the face?”

  Scarlet shook her head. “No, but he does look very average. I could have seen him and not remembered.”

  “Yes, serial killers do tend to look like your average Joe living down the street,” Smyth responded.

  Prudence let out a loud snort as if doubting the credibility of Smyth’s pronouncement.

  A slight frown forming across his broad forehead, Detective Smyth asked, “What type of pig is she?”

  Scarlet pulled a face. “If you look at the sales receipt, she’s a micro pig. But, if you look at the wardrobe she’s grown out of and the amount she’s eating, then she’s …”

  Pausing for a minute and letting her head fall back onto the sofa cushions, Scarlet voiced for the first time, what until this very moment she’d been afraid to admit, “Going to be really, really big!”

  Detective Smyth leaned forward to pat Prudence’s soft head, “Or perhaps she’s just a slightly larger breed of micro pig and is very close to her full weight potential.”

  Feeling a new and sudden warmth for the man, Scarlet said, “I do hope you’re right or I’ll be in all kinds of trouble with the landlord.”

  Draining his teacup and standing, Detective Smyth joked, “You’ll need to buy a farm.”

  Wondering if he knew more about her sister, Violet, than she did, Scarlet gave a half-smile and nodded.

  Smyth glanced at his oversized stainless steel watch. “Surveillance is in place and operational. You just go about your regular daily routine and leave the rest to us.”

  Feeling as if nothing would ever be normal again, Scarlet, seeing him to the door, thanked him for his time. An invitation of more sleep posed to Prudence, received no argument as the pair snuggled back into bed.

  Scarlet felt some sort of filing system was required to sort through the various emotions bombarding her person.

  First and foremost, was she going to be killed? Sanctioned or not, the three conversations she’d had with Stew kept replaying in her head. His speech had been eerily slow but that aside he’d come across as … well… just grateful.

  Then there was the matter of what she’d said to Stew. Surely he hadn’t misconstrued bath to mean drown a poor woman in the shallow waters of the bay? Was Scarlet insane to imagine it was, in any way shape or form, her fault for misquoting the sports analogy? Admittedly, her closest friends, Niles and Tom, had insisted her mere contemplation of this scenario was, if they were honest, certifiable behavior.

  Then there was Andree. Was it sane to worry about him? Scarlet reminded herself he was nothing more than a spineless, petty thief. Yes, this one she’d file in the back under, no need to worry, took his creepy self off to San Diego.

  Right behind Stew, she’d need to file her older sister and what to tell their Mother. The last mention of Violet was Tom screaming, that’s her, accompanied by Police rapping at the front door. The movie was all but forgotten after the detective’s arrival.

  Deciding it was high time to get up, Scarlet gently nudged Prudence to her own side of the bed. Taking the three-step journey to open her bamboo shades, Scarlet, with the remembrance of a surveillance team, rapidly ducked down, and hastily closed them again.

  Prudence awoke to the sound of running water in a cast iron claw foot tub. Trotting in and giving her owner a rather you than me expression, the little pig sat nearby as Scarlet lowered her body into the steaming water. Wincing from the heat for a couple of seconds, Scarlet reached up to the pedestal sink and pressed the voicemail button on her phone.

  Message after message echoed around her black and white tiled bathroom. Two from her Gran stating how much she’d love to see the Mending Men studio and how could Scarlet possibly deny an old woman’s simple request. One from her father, who laid out a schedule of rides to and from the radio station that were entirely for his benefit as he had business in that part of town. Three messages were from Niles and Tom. Niles was attempting to talk but kept getting drowned out by Tom shouting things like we need to see you today, and it’s imperative we chat with you today in the background.

  The last two messages were from James and Gary. James, happy to be back on American soil, was looking forward to seeing her again and would be by at two p.m. on Saturday as agreed. Gary said he enjoyed their first date and would she consent to a second one.

  The bathroom finally silent, Scarlet realized the water was almost cold, and she hadn’t even glanced at a bar of soap. Hurriedly washing, she grabbed a towel and shivered her way back into the bedroom.

  If clean clothes were the goal, Scarlet had few options. However, she was pleasantly surprised at the end result of black tights, tall black riding boots, and a floral sleeveless summer dress over a long sleeved black t-shirt. Hurriedly putting on a load of laundry and feeding Prudence, Scarlet drove up the hill to Niles and Tom’s home.

  Greeting Scarlet with great enthusiasm, they led her through their large house to the enclosed patio.

  Continually talking over each other and effectively saying the same things, Niles and Tom appeared to be eliciting Scarlet’s help. The final words blurted out with emotional energy were how they barely coped and would she, in all essence, save their lives on a daily basis.

  “What on earth are you two babbling about?” Scarlet asked, as the men finally sat in the comfortingly warm and bright room.

  Tom, evidently baffled she hadn’t understood their heartfelt plea, offered her a plate of scones.

  With a sidelong glance at his partner, Niles explained, “We really need you here with us, full time. I’m getting busier and busier at Trade Elite, and as you know, Tom gets very little notice before he’s off to some third world country.”

  Tom handed her a cup of tea. “Exactly! Off I go, poor Niles is all alone, and everything’s in chaos around here. Please say you’ll quit your job at the station, move in here, and work as our personal assistant.”

  Scarlet leaned back on the cushioned wicker sofa. “So, when Tom is away working overseas and you,” she added, looking at Niles, “are putting in a ten-hour day, trading stocks, I’m needed here to …?” Trailing off, she raised her eyebrows in question.

  Tom began rearranging the remaining scones. Niles, after momentarily sticking his chin out in defiance, appeared to physically deflate. “Scar, we’re worried about you.”

  “Make that terrified for you,” Tom interjected.

  Leaning in towards the men, who sat poised on the edges of rattan chairs, Scarlet said,

  “I am so lucky to have friends like you. And believe me, I’m very grateful for what you’re trying to do here. But … I’ve decided while being super careful, not to let Stewart change how I live my life.”

  “Scar, that’s very brave and all,” Niles said, refilling her teacup, “but the man has killed two women already. Then …” he added raising his voice, “bragged about it by leaving you those damn wildflowers.”

  “You said you spoke to him three times on the show?” Tom asked for clarification.

  Nodding her head slowly, Scarlet exhaled. “Yes. He called on my first day. As I told you, I was so flustered about giving sports minded advice, I said bath instead of shower. He called and thanked me about a week later. Then, may
be two weeks after that, he said he was having an issue with another woman.”

  “May I please just say again, for the record,” Tom said with his hands in the air, “you saying bath instead of shower has nothing, nothing, to do with these murders.”

  Giving Tom an appreciative smile, Scarlet said, “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Niles waved his empty teacup in the air. “And if you had told those two detectives about it, I guarantee they wouldn’t even have written it down in their silly little notebooks.”

  Reaching over and grabbing a perfectly formed scone, Tom said, “What is it with the pen and paper? Are those guys living in the last century or what?”

  Scarlet began giggling. “Can you believe the timing of their visit?” Eyes wide, she added, “Oh good heavens, I keep forgetting to ask you about my sister.”

  Niles gave a sympathetic smile. “Hardly surprising. Well, dear Scar, we have good news there.”

  Putting her teacup on the coffee table, Scarlet, placing her hands together, looked expectantly at Niles.

  “Violet was wearing short shorts and a …” making some peculiar hand movements around his chest area, Niles concluded, “top.”

  Over a mouthful of scone, Tom said, “Like Elly May from the Beverly Hillbillies.”

  Niles pulled a face. “What? Elly May wore jeans and a buttoned up long sleeved shirt. She was a tomboy who loved critters.”

  Curling his top lip, Tom said defensively, “Forgive me, I only watched maybe two reruns.”

  Looking at Tom and tapping his hand on his thigh, Niles said, “The Dukes of Hazard, remember the girl with the shorts.”

  “Guys!” Scarlet interjected impatiently, “was my sister decent?”

  With matching sheepish grins, Niles and Tom nodded their heads.

  “But you were only ten minutes into the movie,” Scarlet said with a slight scowl.

  Without a trace of embarrassment, Tom informed her, “We finished it when we got home.”

  At Scarlet’s raised eyebrows, Niles explained, “We had to find out what happened to the young newlywed who’d fallen from her horse, lost her memory, and wandered onto this farm of love.”

  Head in hands, Scarlet chuckled. “Thank you both so much for doing that for me. I’ll have some good news to tell Mom, and I’ll worry a little less about my sister.”

  Right forefinger pressing gently against his lower lip, Tom confirmed, “She was in maybe three scenes, always, be it scantily, dressed.”

  Draining her cup, Scarlet declared, “I have to get into that compound, or whatever it is, and see her. It’s been too long; she may need me.”

  “But it’s a farm of love,” Niles argued in mock horror.

  “Yes,” Tom said in a theatrically deep voice. “The husband had to come and rescue his young bride and remind her of his existence.” Putting a hand to the side of his mouth, he added, “Although he was a little late.”

  Niles stifled a laugh. “But he ended up loving the farm and staying there forever, with all those very friendly people.”

  Once the three friends had regained their composure, Scarlet concluded the farm discussion by saying, “Well then, you two must be my chaperones to this commune place that isn’t a farm of love.” With a grimace, she added, “I don’t think.”

  Niles smiled broadly, “We’d love to meet Violet.”

  Tom, still flushed with laughter suggested, “Our lives would be so dull without you, Scarlet.”

  Silently wishing for a little dull, Scarlet sat back and let the two men reiterate their need for her to move in with them. It appeared, despite having a housekeeper, cook, and gardener, Tom and Niles could, suddenly, barely make it through the day without Scarlet’s help.

  Scarlet scrunched up her small nose. “I know this new gig at Bay Radio may not be the right fit for me. And … I know things are creepy right now, but I have faith it will all turn out okay in the end. As for my safety, I’m being watched around the clock and who’s to say they don’t catch this freak in the next couple of days.”

  Conceding this to be a possibility, Niles and Tom walked Scarlet to her car.

  After informing them of her upcoming date with James, Niles enquired, “Still no idea where he’s taking you?”

  Scarlet frowned. “No. Do you think I should just call him and admit I wasn’t listening when he told me?”

  Mid-nod, Niles stopped as Tom exclaimed, “Goodness no! Men like you to hang on their every word. That would not be a good start to this relationship. Just wear jeans and a cute top, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Belt and heels?” Scarlet asked in all seriousness.

  Without hesitation, Tom replied, “Yes to the belt, no to the heels.”

  “Hawaii!” Scarlet repeated as she sat drinking hot chocolate with her new young friend.

  “Friggin’ crazy, huh?” Sylvia said with a smile.

  Checking how much time she had left before going live, Scarlet asked, “How long’s the trip, you lucky girl?”

  Sylvia stretched her back. “A week. I’ll be back to work on the thirtieth. Mom just blurted it out on Thanksgiving. I think it’s what got her through the day, to be honest.”

  “As bad as ever?” Scarlet asked tentatively.

  Shuffling silver bangles up and down her lower arm, Sylvia replied, “The good news is Grandma wasn’t drunk this year. She still said some shit, but it wasn’t as nasty as when she’s had a few. I guess Uncle Brian is, dipping his wick, as Mom calls it, where he shouldn’t be.” Pulling a face, Sylvia added, “Nothing new there, but somehow Grandma found out about it and isn’t pleased.”

  Suspecting the dipping recipient may be Veronica, or Candy as she called herself on air, Scarlet, not knowing for sure, stayed silent.

  Although curious to hear more, Scarlet clicked her mouse, saying, “Sylvia, I’m live in three.”

  The young girl picked up her thermos. “I’ll be back.”

  Hitting the record button, Scarlet voiced her new signature, “Thank you for calling Mending Men, this is Scarlet, how can I help?”

  Groaning inwardly when the caller announced himself as Barry, Scarlet patiently listened.

  “Expensive shoes!” Barry began.

  Taken aback at a statement instead of a question, Scarlet waited. It paid off, moments later he continued, “That’s all a man needs to get laid in this city.”

  Sadly, it didn’t pay off a second time. Barry apparently needed a response to this one. Following an uncomfortable silence, Scarlet managed, “Is that right, Barry?”

  “Damn straight it is. My friend Dean from the Gym clued me in. He said chicks always look at your shoes. If they see the real deal, they assume you’ve got serious bucks in the bank and give it up real easy.”

  Disliking the man more with each call, Scarlet responded, “I think you’re playing hardball here, Barry. If the shoes are intended to mislead the women, then you’re not an honest player. Plus, why would you want to be with someone whose interest in you relies purely on what she believes your financial status to be?”

  Barry gave an unmistakable snort. “You don’t get it ’cos you’re a chick. Chicks can get laid anytime they like. That’s why it should be a man doing this show. A man would understand the problem and be impressed with my solution.”

  Scarlet closed her eyes for a second. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help with this one, Barry. Thank you for calling Mending Men.”

  Prevented from screaming out loud by the other calls on hold, Scarlet took a deep breath and braced herself for the next onslaught.

  “Hello Miss Scarlet, this is Henry from Bernal Heights,” the deep voice began.

  Sighing with relief, Scarlet remembered this man to be her one and only, now she knew Stew was psychotic, pleasant caller.

  “First of all,” Henry continued, “much as I respected your predecessor, I think having a lady on this show is much more valuable.” With a throaty laugh, he concluded, “You can let us dumb guys in on the female perspective.”
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br />   “Thank you so much, Henry,” Scarlet gushed. Wanting to hug the man, she continued, “I think you have an excellent point there, proving you are most certainly not a dumb guy.”

  Politely thanking her, Henry explained the reason for his call. “I’m not sure if you remember, Miss Scarlet, how my wife and I have little in common. Forgive me, how could you remember with all the calls you get.”

  Wanting to say how could I forget you, but feeling as if the gushing had gone on long enough, Scarlet instead said, “I think I remember she liked to scrapbook and have her nails done.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Henry said. “Now she’s joined a book club which, initially, I was pleased about. I love to read, and even though the club is just for her lady friends, I thought maybe I could also read the book allowing the two of us to discuss it.”

  Nodding, despite the fact no one could see her, Scarlet said, “Sounds good to me Henry, but you said initially.”

  In a more dispirited tone, Henry continued, “Well, last night it was her turn to host. There are eight women. I know maybe two of them from her scrapbooking club. I kept out of the way as instructed, but when I heard raucous laughter, I became a little curious.”

  Imagining Henry must be confident his wife and her friends didn’t even know the radio dial for Mending Men, Scarlet said, “Understandable.”

  “I’ve finished the book,” Henry explained. “It’s incredibly somber. I can’t remember a funny line in it.”

  “Keep in mind, Henry,” Scarlet interjected, “these book clubs are as much about getting together and enjoying friendships, as they are about the actual book.”

  “Agreed, Miss Scarlet, but my eavesdropping revealed a group of women who find their husbands ridiculous. I couldn’t repeat the things they said about them. It was shocking to hear how little respect they have for their spouses.”

  Scarlet took a moment to process this information. “Obviously, I don’t know your wife or her friends. I have no idea how they feel about their husbands. But, I can guess there was a fair bit of exaggerating and maybe even a little showing off going on in that room.”