Home Fires

by W L Ripley

  “Hank,” Leo said. “When are you going to go smoke-free and stop killing your clientele? I could die of second-hand smoke.”

  “Gee,” said Hank, dead-panned. “That would be a loss. I’ll wear a black arm band.”

  “So,” Leo said, after Hank went back to the bar, “once again, I have prepared our boys to crush the enemy in my coach of the year style. Let our bloody colors wave or else, a grave.”

  “Why do you talk like an English Lit teacher instead of a football coach?”

  “Because I’m not an ignorant beast who makes mistake, takes chances manages to look silly but keeps right on going.”

  “That’s a paraphrase of Thomas Wolfe,” Jake said. “Not the real quote. Read a book, my ass.”

  The front door opened, and Fat Boy Haller and Tommy Mitchell came in, glaring in Jake’s direction.

  “Not going to let it go, are they?” Leo said, watching the pair stomp to a table.

  “We had an argument about French politics.”

  “I’m sure they had an interesting take. You’d do best to pay attention as your enemies for they are the first to notice your mistakes. And now back to current events. Jake, buddy, I’ve been pondering your situation. My advice for you is not shoot anyone and stay clear of Pam Kellogg.”

  “Mitchell.”

  “Whatever. I fear she has unseemly desires for your body.”

  “Whatever you want to believe.”

  “That’s what you do when you don’t want to address things. Just like you used to. Like with your father.” Jake cut his eyes at his friend and Leo put up his hands. “I know, I know, leave it alone. You have a complicated history with Pam K now heightened by a contretemps with the two mental-deficients.”

  “Contretemps?”

  “That’s Leo the Lion, high professor of math and elocution talking. Stay on task here. Never doubt the old professor.”

  Leo paused and took a drink of his beer. More people came in; the smoke swirled in the air.

  “It’s like now, Leo said, continuing, enjoying the opportunity to expound. “You’re on a collision course with a candidate for most likely to be lusted after and the blue ribbon goes once again to the winner and still champion, Pam Kellogg Mitchell.”

  “Do you sit in the teacher’s lounge and dream up this stuff?”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing. You don’t want to address the situation but you’d better because she’ll be coming around and...oh, hello.”

  Leo looked up from the table.

  The juke box changed tunes.

  Jake turned to see what Leo was looking at.

  Pam Kellogg Mitchell.

  Jake, looking at Pam, said, “Another thing, Leo. Did Gage have a dog?”

  Chapter Six

  Pam Kellogg Mitchell walked over to the table and asked Leo if she could sit. Leo winked at Jake where Pam couldn’t see it. Jake could see her entrance wasn’t lost on Tommy and Fat Boy. Tommy punched in numbers on a cell phone.

  “We’d be fools to miss the opportunity of your company,” Leo said. Jake didn’t miss the big smile on Leo’s face. Pam ordered a light beer, patted her 24-inch waist and said, “have to watch my weight or nobody else will.”

  “Very nice,” Leo said, then said to Jake, “Yes, he does.” Meaning Gage had a dog leaving Pam to consider the double entendre.

  “Well I can’t find him,” Jake said, telling Leo about the food dish and the dog pen.

  “Whose dog?” asked Pam.

  “Gage Burnell’s. Remember him? The guy your husband fired before he was killed?”

  Pam reached up and touched up the edge of an eyebrow. “Are we doing this again? Why does everything you say sound like an accusation?”

  “Why does everything I say make you think you’re under scrutiny?” He nodded at Tommy and Fat Boy. “We have company.”

  She put her hands on the table as if she were going to push away. “I don’t care about them and you’re being a shit again and I don’t know why. Maybe you can explain that.”

  “He’s been a cop since he left,” Leo said. “Makes him less interesting, be my guess.”

  She narrowed her eyes and said, “So, you’re a policeman now. Explains a lot.”

  “More than just a police officer,” Leo said. “Texas Ranger.”

  “Much more romantic,” Pam said.

  Jake wanted a cigarette and a way to restart the conversation.

  “Okay,” Jake said. “I apologize for my tone. Don’t read anything into it. I’m not happy about Gage’s death coming so close to his being fired.”

  “I didn’t fire him,” Pam said.

  He started to ask why she was making that a point. Instead, he said, “I know. And, it is good to see you again, Pam. You look great.” He wanted to take it back as soon as he said it but it was too late.

  She smiled; her shoulders relaxed. “Thanks for that.”

  Leo patted his chest and Pam said, “Good to see you, too, Leo. Big game Friday.”

  “That’s why I’m self-medicating,” he said, holding up the empty beer bottle. “I must look and feel my best tomorrow in preparation.”

  Leo’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and stepped away from the table to take the call.

  Jake followed Leo’s departure with his eyes, but Pam kept hers trained on Jake.

  “Alone at last,” she said. Pam placed an elbow on the table and rested a cheek on her palm. “You’re abnormally reticent. I don’t remember you that way.”

  “You’re married, Pam. Hard to get past that.”

  “Can’t we try? What’s wrong with being friends?”

  “Junior may see it differently.”

  She shook her head, smiling with her eyes briefly closed. “You are purposely calling Alex by his nickname. Why’re you doing that?”

  “Fun to do.”

  “I was hoping you would be a little jealous.”

  He looked at her. “He marries the prettiest girl in Western Missouri. Who wouldn’t envy him?”

  She smiled at that. He felt her smile. Easy, Jake.

  Leo returned and sat. “My wife on the phone.” Leo’s eyes left the table and looked at the entrance. “And, oh boy.”

  Before Jake could look, he heard his voice.

  “What the hell now?” said Alex Mitchell, his jaw set. Jake hadn’t seen Alex Mitchell in years. Alex looked pretty much the same, save that he was heavier, not fat, but settled into maturity. Apparently, that’s who Tommy was calling.

  Alex stood close to the table, saying to Pam now, “Pretty sure we had a conversation resolved this.”

  “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Pam said.

  Alex made a face. “I’m not jealous.”

  Jake turned in his chair and said, “How’re you doing, Alex? Join us.”

  “Can’t,” Alex said, edgy now, absently rubbing an unusual square Tiger eye ring he wore on his right ring finger. “We’re leaving. Let’s go, Pam.”

  “I have a beer, Alex,” Pam said, saying it as if it explained everything. “I’m going to finish it and maybe have another. Why don’t you sit down and enjoy the evening?”

  “You know what I’m talking about, but you want to avoid it.”

  “Dammit, Alex, sit down,” Pam said, with a little more force behind the words.

  “We’re going.”

  Shaking her head. “Grow up, Alex.”

  “This is the second time,” Alex said, nodding at Jake when he said it.

  Jake watched Tommy and Fat Boy rise from their seats, thinking go to town, have a beer with Leo. Talk about old times. What could go wrong?

  Jake saying now, “Look...a...you guys want to talk, Leo and I’ll move to another table.”

  “Sit still, Jake,” Pam said. “Alex forgets himself.”

  The crowd beginning to notice. Jake knew Alex was in a bad spot here, standing there exposed and looking bad. He had initiated a scene and his ego would force him to look like he was in control of the situation. He coul
dn’t retreat, and Pam would not. The Alex Mitchell Jake knew hated looking bad. This was not going well.

  Growing worse as Tommy and Fat Boy moved closer.

  Pam turned, pointed at Fat Boy and Tommy and said, “Go back and sit down. This is none of your business. Alex?”

  Alex motioned for his brother and Haller to move back. “Do what she says.”

  “Fuck her telling me what to do,” Tommy said, bristling.

  “Aw, shit, Tommy,” Alex said. “Not today.”

  “Come on, Tommy,” said Fat boy and the pair moved back to their table but did not sit. Tommy even glowered.

  Jake stood and said, “This doesn’t concern me.”

  “There’s an interesting position,” Alex said. “It always concerns you.”

  “You’re reading it wrong,” Jake said. “Don’t take this to a place doesn’t exist.”

  Alex looked at Pam and said, “Let’s go. Now.”

  Pam laughed, without humor. “Save the macho pose for the snuff queens you encourage when you think I’m not looking.”

  Not getting any better. Situation spiraling away. Jake was uneasy, thinking of a way out.

  “Not kidding about this,” Alex said, rubbing the Tiger eye ring again.

  Pam shook her head and took a theatrical sip from her beer while looking up at Alex.

  Alex grabbed her arm, but Pam pulled away, spilling beer on her blouse. “Goddammit, Alex. Look what you did.”

  “You don’t want to do this, Alex,” Jake said, trying to take a conciliatory tone.

  “Shut the fuck up and stay out, Morgan.”

  Jake stood, his chair scraping on the wood floor. “I’m not sure I can hear you when you take that tone, Junior.”

  Leo the Lion said, “Aw hell,” as he stood. “Everybody, calm down.” He made a flat motion with his hand, palm down. “Beautiful evening. Have a beer. Smile a lot.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Alex,” Pam said. “Calm down.”

  “Don’t feel like it.” He pointed at Jake and said, “It would be a good thing you keep your distance from her.”

  Having people point at him was on the short list of things Jake didn’t care for. Wanting to say he wasn’t after his wife. Swallow it. Jake blew out a breath, decided to let it go but it grated on him to do so.

  “I’m leaving, Pam,” Alex said. “Whether you come along or not. You won’t enjoy the conversation later.”

  “This is your rebellion?” Pam said, giving him a triumphant smile. “You’re not sitting down and I’m going to regret your conversation? Comical.”

  Alex left. Thankfully. Jake didn’t need this.

  “You should go with him,” Jake said.

  “Alex needs to learn I’m not livestock. Besides, a little jealousy is good for him. He’s no choir boy himself.”

  “I prefer not to be a part of whatever is going on in your marriage.”

  “Don’t be fussy. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  “I’d feel better if you left.”

  Pam sat up in her seat, saying to Leo, “You hearing this?”

  “Well,” Leo said, with a little nod. “He’s not entirely wrong.”

  “Okay.” She stood. “You boys take these things far too seriously. But what am I to do? Good to see you again and in the interest of tranquility I will leave you to talk football and cars.”

  “Thanks. Good to see you again.”

  She left. Tommy and Fat Boy walked out behind her. Tommy gave Jake the finger.

  “How high school is that?” Jake said, to Leo. “Town’s changed, the idiots haven’t.”

  Leo the Lion saying now, “You’re like a brother to me, Jake; don’t know many people I like as much as you but dammit, no more of this, huh?”

  “I’m sitting here, she walks in bringing her shitty marriage with her and you decide it’s somehow my fault. The way your mind works is incomprehensible. Whatever medication you’re on needs reevaluation.”

  “I’ll concede the point, but you,” pointing at Jake as he said it. “You attract trouble and need to own that facet of your personality.”

  Jake looked around before saying, “I attract trouble?”

  “The funny part?” Leo said, “You don’t realize it and you never did.”

  Chapter Seven

  Bad dreams, too much on his mind and not enough booze to chase it away. Jake tired but sleep avoiding him. What had he accomplished coming back to Paradise? Not much. Nothing good anyway.

  The landline buzzed. Need to stop Gage’s phone service. Jake looked at the clock. 2:00 AM. Nothing good came of calls this late.

  He picked up the phone.

  “Gage Burnell no longer—”

  “Jake? This is Pam. I need someone to talk to. Would you mind if I come over? Please.”

  He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his free hand. Tried to clear the cobwebs in his head. Felt like he was dreaming all this. Let it be a dream. That would be better than the reality.

  “Not a good idea,” he said.

  It was quiet on the other end of the connection. For a moment he thought, hoped, she had hung up.

  “Alex is crazy over here. He’s drunk and I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me.”

  “Look, I’m not unsympathetic, but you coming here? Nothing good comes of that. I’m sure you have friends you can stay with. Call your dad.”

  He could hear her breathing on the line. “Okay, you’re right,” she said. “I understand. Good advice. I’ll be okay.”

  They hung up and Jake pulled the blankets over his chest. Glad she wasn’t coming but thought about it. There was still something between them and he didn’t like not being in control of it. He stared at the ceiling for several minutes before sleep overtook him.

  Jake dreamed deeply. His dreams were a mixture of reality where he could touch, feel, reason, and smell. But it was a muddle of locales and people. In his dream there were people that he seemed to know but their faces were wrong in familiar places where he never lived.

  He felt her in his dream. She was warm, her body silky and inviting.

  But it wasn’t a dream. She was there. Right now. In bed with him.

  “How the --?”

  “Ssshhhh,” she said, her hand lightly on his lips.

  He sat up and she slid into him. “Pam, this can’t happen.”

  “I know,” she said, stroking his hair away from his forehead. “But I need someone. I need you. No strings. Honest. Just tonight.”

  She lifted herself to straddle him and he thought to push her away but hesitated and in that moment he lost all arguments against this mistake of gigantic proportions. He was drowsy but felt the arousal of her body against his, realizing and admitting he’d harbored hopes of this happening from the first moment in the diner.

  This is wrong and you know better, dammit. Don’t be stupid. You’re a rational human being, aren’t you?

  Well, aren’t you?

  Apparently not.

  And so it went.

  Pam left before sunrise. Jake had coffee and cigarettes for breakfast with a side order of regret.

  He couldn’t blame her; he could’ve made her leave or barring that, moved to a different room. She merely offered herself and he indulged in the delight of her body, her warmth, the smell of her hair. Her urgency fueling his libido and the memory of long-ago love. Was it nostalgia, or weakness? No, he was a willing accomplice in the commission of the forbidden. It wasn’t loving or tender but rather rancorous as if avenging an old wrong.

  And now? Well, now, Jake old buddy, you live with it. The morning after was the toughest.

  How did that old song go? ‘Not quite friends...and not quite lovers.”

  In the morning he sat on this front deck wondering should he pack up and head back to Texas before things got worse? But Gage’s death bothered him. As a law enforcement investigator, it struck him as incomplete. Too convenient. Too many questions swimming through his cop mind.

  It was a remote possibility Gage’s death
was an accident, but Jake’s instincts rejected it. The coroner had looked into it.

  Still...

  He heard a noise. In the back of the house.

  He walked back into the house and heard it again. A snuffling noise and then a crunching sound as if someone were cracking walnuts.

  Jake’s heart was pounding, and he stopped to compose himself. He could feel the back of his neck tense and his blood pumping adrenaline. He stopped again to listen, taking a deep breath and letting it out halfway to relieve his tension.

  Same noises, then a soft whining sound, the sound of an injured animal.

  From the back porch? Had a raccoon got in through the dog flap? Coyote?

  Jake entered the kitchen, slid open the door to the mud room then reached over and flipped on the light. A dog.

  Growling, snarling.

  Gage’s dog?

  The dog was lying by the dog dish, his snout in the dish but Jake could see the dog was exhausted and injured but knew better than to approach too quickly. The dog was dragging a short chain that had been snapped at a point about a foot behind the collar. The dog’s neck where the chain rubbed was bare of fur and matted with mud and blood. The ribs of the animal were showing.

  Jake found the bag of dog food in the room and filled the dog’s bowl.

  “Easy now,” Jake said. “I’m a friend.”

  The dog curled a lip and a guttural sound emitted from deep within the animal. He kneeled and held a hand out palm down, below the dog’s muzzle. The dog approached, warily, hackles raised, sniffed at Jake’s hand, satisfied the dog then backed up and began eating.

  Jake eased the door shut and left the dog alone.

  Jake returned to his room and picked up his cell and dialed Buddy Johnson.

  “What the hell, Jake? I worked the night shift?”

  “I need a vet.”

  “A vet? What’s up?”

  “Gage’s dog just came home, and he’s hurt.”

  Chapter Eight

  The veterinarian’s name was Billings, a short, muscular guy wearing a Stetson and Tony Lama’s. “I know this dog,” said Billings. “Gage brought him in for his shots. He’s a good boy. Black Lab mix. His name is ‘Travis’. He’s been mistreated.”