[Shelby Alexander 01.0] Serenity
Page 10
Shelby looked around the kitchen. The counters were lined with food products.
“What the hell is all this other stuff?”
“Expired food from the refrigerator. I haven’t even looked in the freezer or the pantry.”
“The freezer? I thought frozen food lasted forever.”
“Oh dear god.” Carly stood up, closed the refrigerator door, and backed away with her hands in the air. “I give up. I’m throwing away all this stuff on the counter, but then you’re on your own. I think you may be beyond educating on this issue.”
“I’m not dead yet,” Shelby said.
“Your system has probably built an immunity to food poisoning by now,” Carly said. She grabbed a trash bag from under the sink, shook it open, and started scooping things into it: condiments, packs of deli meat and cheese, bottles of dressing.
“That’s a lot of money you’re dumping in that bag,” Shelby protested.
“I’m doing you a favor. And I won’t be doing it a second time.”
“Good. I couldn’t afford it.”
“Shut up and hand me that bottle of mayo.”
He did so, pausing only briefly to read the price tag and feel a moment of regret. Well, it was that many fewer calories. At his age, mayo was to be used lightly, so his doctor said. Which explained why he had so much left—that and the fact he subsisted primarily on frozen dinners and canned goods, a diet style he had so far concealed from his doctor’s prying questions.
“By the way,” Carly said, “you missed a call from your daughter. She said to call her back as soon as you get back in.”
“Leslie?”
“You have another daughter you didn’t tell me about?”
Shelby instinctively patted his pocket for the phone, but it was nowhere on his person. Carly pointed to the counter.
“It’s there. You forgot it.”
“You answered my phone?”
“I thought it might be important.”
“Did she say what she wanted?”
Carly shook her head. “Just to call her right away. She didn’t actually say ‘or else,’ but her tone implied it.”
“Fine, I’ll call.” Shelby grabbed the phone from the counter and moved into the bedroom for privacy. He had a sneaking suspicion what Leslie’s attitude might have been about. Carly had answered his phone. The idea of the two women talking gave Shelby a heavy, sour feeling in his stomach. He pressed Leslie’s name in the Recent Call list and held the phone to his ear. It rang twice.
“Dad?”
“I understand you called?”
“Yes. Why aren’t you carrying your phone with you? One of these days, you’ll need it. And why is this Carly person answering it?”
Shelby didn’t think this was the time to mention carrying it with him had almost cost him his life and Carly had been to blame for it going off at that inopportune moment.
“I went out with Jerry McIntyre and forgot my phone. Carly was here and answered it when she saw it was you. She thought it might be important.”
“She seems nice,” Leslie said in the tone women use when they don’t think someone is at all nice, especially another woman, but don’t want to start out by saying, “I hate that bitch.”
“She is.” Shelby felt himself growing defensive. “She’s been very good to me.”
“I bet she has. How old is she? A lot younger than Mom. She sounded twenty.”
“She’s not twenty.”
“Twenty-five?”
“No.”
“Thirty?”
Shelby didn’t answer.
“You’re screwing a woman thirty years younger than you? Don’t you know how clichéd that is?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Not like what? Not a cliché? Your relationship is so different?”
“We’re very close.”
“Gross.”
“Leslie—”
“I’m serious, Dad. I don’t want to be mean, but it kind of turns my stomach. I’m really mad at you right now.”
The final statement surprised Shelby. Leslie had always had a temper, so displays of anger were not uncommon with her. But never before had Shelby seen her express a verbal emotion so calmly.
“That’s a very mature way of telling me so,” he said, meaning every word.
“My therapist says I should tell people how I’m feeling instead of acting on emotion. He says my reaction to feelings is the only thing I can control, since I can’t control the emotion itself and never how others act or feel.”
“That sounds—wait, you’re in therapy?”
“Have been for weeks.”
A light dawned in Shelby’s mind.
“Leslie…does your therapy have anything to do with your quest to fix the relationship between your mother and me?”
“No,” Leslie said. “Don’t try to minimize this for me.”
“I’m not, honey. I’m trying to figure out where you’re coming from.”
“No, you think if I got this idea of you and Mom being able to at least talk to each other from therapy, that shows it wasn’t my own idea, which leaves you free to stay with that little whore.”
Shelby’s face tightened. He knew Leslie was losing control of her anger and weighed his words carefully so as not to further antagonize her. The fact she was in therapy was news to him, but if it was helping, he had no desire to derail it.
“Leslie, I’m not trying to invalidate your desire for your parents to have a cordial relationship. I think that’s the most natural thing in the world. And if therapy is helping you, I am all for it. But Carly is not a whore. I can’t let you call her that.”
There was a brief silence, broken by Leslie’s sniffling.
“Leslie? Honey? Don’t cry. You know I hate it when you cry.”
“Sorry. I’m just so mad at you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why can’t you call Mom?”
“Is that why you originally called me?”
Silence.
“Leslie?”
“Yes. Sorry. I nodded and then remembered I was on the phone.”
“Why would I call your mom? Why do we need to talk?”
“I want you to. Okay?”
“Why are you being so cagey? What the hell would I even say?”
“Tell her the truth. That you called because I wanted you to.”
“We’re not getting back together.”
“Did I say that? I’m only asking you to call her.”
Shelby sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Leslie squealed so loudly Shelby had to pull the phone away from his ear.
“Thank you, Daddy!”
“I didn’t say I would. I said I’d think about.”
“That always means yes, though.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does! I don’t remember one time when I was growing up that you said you’d think about it and afterward said no.”
“Good-bye, Leslie.”
“Bye, Daddy!”
Shelby hung up with both a smile and a grimace. Damn that girl.
22
The Barn Door was busy when Shelby and Mack walked inside and grabbed two stools at the bar. They had followed Carly in for her late shift to make sure she arrived safely, and decided to stay for dinner and a drink.
“Couldn’t get enough of me?” Carly said, as she plopped two menus down.
“We’re here to eat,” Shelby said. “You threw all my food away.”
“It was for the best. The special is the buffalo burger. Personally, I think it’s a little dry, but if you eat it with enough beer, it’s pretty good.”
“I’ll risk it,” Mack said. “And hit me up with a tall Guinness.”
“Make it two,” Shelby said. “But I’ll take a shot of whiskey first.”
“You two making a night of it?”
Mack grinned. “I’ll have to head back downstate soon and if I can’t catch any bad guys with an ol
d pal, then I can at least get drunk with him.”
“You never know,” Carly said. “You might catch one yet. They don’t seem to be bashful. And if you do, give them the bill for my car window. Turns out they aren’t cheap to replace.” She walked away to pull their drinks.
“I didn’t know you were planning to head back so soon,” Shelby said.
“Well, I’m not leaving tonight, but I can’t stay up here forever. As much as I might like to. All the shooting and corruption aside, it’s rather peaceful. I feel disconnected, in a good way.”
“You’d love it in the summer.”
“Maybe I’ll come back up.”
Their drinks arrived. Shelby tossed back his shot and then they both drank from their beers.
“I wish I could stay and see this through with you,” Mack said.
“Me too. How soon are you planning to head out?”
“Another day or two.”
Shelby regarded his friend suspiciously. “What’s wrong, Mack?”
“Wrong?”
“Don’t try to play me. I know you too well. It’s not like you to leave when there’s a chance for life-threatening adventure. And you’ve seemed a little quiet this trip. At first I assumed you were getting to be as old as you look, but now I’m thinking there’s more to it.”
“It’s nothing. Really. Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”
“It’s Gloria, isn’t it?”
Mack drank deeply from his beer. “How’d you know?”
“Mostly a guess. Not many things make a man as morose as trouble with a woman. And you seemed terribly eager to leave home. I wanted to believe you wanted to see an old friend, but that didn’t seem quite right.”
“You can be annoying sometimes, you know that?”
“That’s what friends are for. So spill it.”
Mack sighed. “Yeah, it’s Gloria. She’s been spending a lot of time with this work acquaintance of hers. Some new faculty member in her department everyone loves. At least, to hear Gloria talk about him.”
“Gloria teaches English, doesn’t she?”
“Literature, yes. First and second year.”
“And the guy?”
“Upper level. He was the state poet laureate at some point.”
“A young guy?”
“No, early fifties. Gloria thinks he’s aces. She bought his damn poetry books and wants to read them aloud before we go to sleep. I tried to get some sex out of her the other night, but she shooed me away because she was deep into analyzing some deep, intellectual stanza this idiot had scribbled out on a napkin during the latest faculty cocktail party. I read it. Really stupid shit.”
“Have you met this genius?”
“No. I never attend any of those faculty shindigs anymore. I used to, when Gloria and I were younger. Felt duty bound. But we got old enough to quit that. I never had anything to talk about with the academic types anyway.”
“She’s probably more interested in his work than she is in him, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s probably some wizened old guy with leather patches on the elbows of his tweed sports jacket.”
“That is what I’m worried about. I’ve seen his picture. He’s more like Cary Grant on the movie Houseboat. But I assumed the same as you, until I found out she wasn’t only seeing this fellow at faculty gatherings. They were also meeting alone.”
Shelby again fixed his friend with that suspicious gaze.
“And how do you know this?”
Mack was spared from answering by the arrival of their food. Carly knew Shelby well enough to bring more beer without being asked.
“I’ll check back in a few minutes,” she said.
They thanked her and bit into their burgers, which were, as advertised, quite dry.
“I think they put these on special to sell beer,” Shelby said, drinking half of his newly delivered Guinness. “Now, back to the matter at hand. How do you know Gloria is meeting with this guy?”
“Someone told me.”
“Who?”
“A detective friend of mine. Also retired.”
“And he just happened to see them out and reported back to you? How did he know they weren’t related or on a business lunch? Seems a little reckless to run to you and suggest your wife is wining and dining with another man.”
Mack squirmed on his barstool. “He didn’t just happen to see them.”
Shelby groaned. “You didn’t.”
“Yeah…I did.”
“So you suspected her enough to hire a detective.”
“I didn’t hire anyone. This guy owed me a favor. And it turns out I was right to be suspicious, so what does it matter?”
“Trust but verify, eh?”
“My vocation has taken a toll on me. You know how that works.”
Shelby nodded. “Have you confronted Gloria? Maybe she has an explanation.”
“I haven’t mentioned anything. She would follow the same line of questions you did: how do I know, how did I find out.”
“And you don’t want her to know you’ve been spying.”
“Of course not. What if she really does have a reasonable explanation? Then I’m in the doghouse for nothing.”
“I see your dilemma.”
“I got the report from my detective friend a day or so before you called up. I thought getting away up into the great northern wilderness might give me a chance to think.”
“Instead, you ended up getting shot at. Sorry about that.”
“Nah, it’s gotten my mind off things a little. But I can’t stop worrying about Gloria, especially at night, wondering what is going on down there in my absence.”
“I get it. I’d be the same way.”
Carly set down two more beers. “How’s it going, you two?”
“We’re solving the world’s problems.”
“Good to hear,” she said. “While you’re at it, you can solve his.”
She pointed down the bar to Norman Evans, who sat leaning over his glass of beer. Evans saw them looking and waved. He got up from his barstool and came toward them.
“He looks familiar,” Mack said.
Shelby nodded. “He should. He was coming out of Wilkes’ office that day we brought in the bag of meth.”
“Hello,” Evans said, his eyes typically shifty. “You two…mind if I join you?”
“Go ahead, Evans. I think there’s room for another stool at the end there.”
Evans took a stool from a nearby high table and settled himself next to Shelby.
“I wanted to apologize for…my rudeness the other day at the sheriff’s office,” Evans said. “I was not in my…best frame of mind and I’m afraid I must have seemed…brusque.”
“No worries,” Shelby said. “We all have those days.”
“Thank you,” Evans said. “Who’s your…friend?”
“This is McIntyre. He’s visiting from downstate.”
“Ah, welcome to…Serenity, Mr. McIntyre.”
“Thanks. Nice place.”
“We like it.” Evans looked back to Shelby. “Mr. Alexander, I was wondering if I might…impose on you again for the use of your Jeep. I’m overdue checking my maples and with the thaw…the ground has gotten soft. I’m afraid the trail back will be quite muddy and…difficult to navigate for my sedan.”
“It probably would,” Shelby said. “When do you need to get back there?”
“As soon as possible. Tomorrow…morning, perhaps?”
Shelby shrugged. “Sure. I guess I can do that.”
“Excellent. Thank you so much. I hope to…get a more rugged vehicle by next year, so hopefully, this will be the…last time I’ll be bothering you.” Evans slid off the stool and left the bar, leaving his beer unfinished.
Mack watched him go. “Weird guy,” he said. “What’s this about his maples?”
“He taps trees. Sells some maple syrup on the side. I’ve never bought any, because the idea of ingesting anything Norman Evans concocted makes me queasy
.”
“He does have a bit of a molester vibe.”
Shelby laughed. “A what?”
“Molester vibe. We used that phrase when I was on the Detroit force. Whenever we had a suspect with a molester vibe, we dug a little deeper. We almost always found something, even if it wasn’t exactly what we were searching for. Those types have an air about them.”
“If you say so,” Shelby said. “I think in Evans’ case, it’s social anxiety. Nothing illegal or dangerous about that.”
“Maybe,” Mack said. “All the same, if you had small kids, I’d tell you to keep them away from that guy.”
23
The knocking on the door roused Shelby from a deep sleep. He felt as if he were moving upward toward the light from the bottom of a dark well, fighting his way through black cotton. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. Then he remembered the previous night at the Barn Door, how much he and Mack had drunk, and that Norman Evans was expecting to be taken out to his maples that morning.
Shelby pivoted in the bed so his legs hung over the sides. Then he thrust his upper body so he was in a sitting position. Not too bad. Then he made the mistake of standing up. The room and his stomach vied to see which could turn the fastest. The room won and he was forced to sit back down on the bed, which bounced under his sudden weight, adding more distress to his churning stomach. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, so he put his head down between his knees to force blood to his head. After a minute, he felt well enough to sit up straight.
The pounding on the door continued. He decided to shoot Evans at the first opportunity. The man had to die.
“Just a minute, dammit!” he tried to yell, but his voice came out as a croak. He struggled back to his feet, swayed, and then moved to the bathroom to throw some water on his face. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and shuddered. He didn’t look like death warmed over. He looked like death deep fried, eaten by the hogs, and shit back out. He turned on the tap, washed his face, and drank deeply from his cupped hands. Never had water tasted so good. How much alcohol had they consumed last night?
From the other room, he heard Mack stirring and then, “What the hell is that noise! Turn it off!”
In spite of his condition, Shelby grinned. At least his drinking buddy was in no better shape. If Mack had strolled in whistling and looking fresh as a baby’s newly wiped ass, Shelby would have been forced to admit age had caught up with him.