by Arthur Day
“Feel better?” Pam asked over the top of her magazine.
Doug nodded weakly.
“Big party last night?”
Feeling like the total asshole he was he nodded again.
“Big party every night from the looks of you.” Her tone sharpened somewhat, and she put the magazine down and stared at him. “and the smell. When was the last time you took a shower?”
He couldn’t remember. “A few days ago,” he lied.
“Not likely,” she replied and then sighed softly. “Doug what is it you want? If you just stopped by to say hello that’s fine but I sense you want more than that. What is it? Maybe it’s not something you want but something you need.”
Doug shrugged miserably. “I just thought, you know..” he groped for the words “that we were friends or at least could be friends.” he stopped, not sure what else he could say. He needed her alone in a neutral spot. Not her apartment for sure.
She got up and stood over me. “We are friends Doug but if we’re going to continue to be friends you have to clean up your act.” she wrinkled her nose and waved her hand in front of her face as if to ward off the smell of me. “or we’ll just be Facebook friends.”
“Friends,” he echoed.
“Right. Then go in the bathroom and take a shower. Give me your clothes and I’ll put them in the washer.”
“What am I supposed to wear?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. We both know what the human body looks like but if it makes you feel better you can wrap a towel around you for a while. After your shower you can lie down in the spare bedroom and take a nap. You look as if you haven’t had any real sleep in weeks. I’ll wake you when your clothes are ready and then we can talk about what’s next if that’s what you want to do.”
That’s how it started with Doug blowing lunch in her bathroom. For reasons only she would know Pam didn’t throw him out or yell at him that day. She took the clothes he handed her through the bathroom door. When he woke up later that day he found them on the bureau in the bedroom cleaned and neatly laid out. By the time he had dressed and walked down the hall and into the living room he sensed that this was going to be his last chance to come back from the walking dead and re-join the human race. Certainly, he thought, it would be his last chance with Pam.
Doug finally got back to Compton and his cabin. He turned on the light in the kitchen, poured himself a Coke and took it out onto the porch that wrapped around three sides of the house. The dark womb of the night enveloped him with only the faint indirect light from the kitchen behind him. He had screwed up by going bar hopping and he knew it. Even though He’d only gone to one bar and then only had one beer it made no difference. Doug had slipped, and he did not feel good about himself at that moment. Thinking back over the past couple of months, though, he thought he had reason to be optimistic. He had managed to cut way back on his drinking and, until tonight he had avoided the bars and dives that used to welcome him with open arms because he made their cash registers sing. He had even lost twenty pounds of beer gut and felt in the best shape of his adult life and all of this improvement that he formerly would have sneered at was due to Pam who was probably up at her place sleeping the sleep of the righteous.
Since arriving up at Compton he had formed the habit of meeting her in front of her cabin for their morning walk. At least they started out together but by the time they were on the lake road she was usually well in the lead. That was fine with Doug. She knew he was trying and that was all that mattered with her. He never stopped enjoying the sight of her shapely ass in the tight joggers’ shorts. She had an amazing variety of them and in all colors. He could almost tell her mood by the color of those shorts when they met in the morning. He sipped at his Coke and stared out across the porch railing into the darkness of the lawn and the faint shadow of the pines beyond. He supposed that he had achieved, quite unintentionally, the relationship that his father wanted him to have with Pam. That thought was troubling for he did not want some external force to dictate who he met or with whom he became friends. Now, he could not imagine killing her just for some old man’s obsession with revenge. Doug thought about simply not telling him. Bigbucks could keep his money. Doug would keep his self- respect. Fair deal he whispered into the night. Fair deal all around. He felt better in spite of his trip to Shookies, finished his Coke and went to bed.
“Good morning Cousin.” Pam was standing in our usual spot wearing bright yellow shorts and a t-shirt with VERMONT STRONG written on it. She looked fresh and beautiful and ready to walk a hundred miles instead of a mere seven. “Let’s get going. I have a friend coming up later.” She turned and strode off rapidly down the driveway. Doug almost had to jog to catch up.
They went down the dirt road to the paved one leading to the village and turned left as usual and up a little hill (he had thought it a mountain when he first started) and down the other side to where a dirt road led off to the left around the lake. He his stride and got his rhythm as Pam glided ahead of him occasionally looking back to make sure he had not collapsed on the shoulder. Down the road they went closely hemmed in by trees on the lake side and the occasional farmhouse and fields on the other side. The morning was clear and still cool under the trees though it promised to be hot later.
The road curved gently left and right. It went up an over small bumps and little hills but always kept within a half mile of the lake and sometimes within a few yards. It was hard-packed dirt the consistency of concrete. A maroon red Nissan pathfinder rumbled by them, the driver holding up two fingers in a victory sign as he passed. He saw Pam’s yellow rear end about a quarter mile ahead where another dirt road went off to the right just after a curve on the lake road. She disappeared around the curve. A car started up somewhere and then there was silence.
Doug followed but by the time he got around the curve, she was gone. He kept walking sure that she had speeded up a bit and he was a little slower from the effects of Shookies the night before but the road straightened out and he still didn’t see her. Had she taken a right up the other road but that led away from the lake and she had said that a friend was coming. There was a row of houses partially hidden by trees on my left. Had she gone into one of those? Maybe the friend she mentioned lived in one and Pam had stopped in for a cup of joe and a chat. He didn’t really believe either of these possibilities but for sure it was none of his business and she would be irritated if he brought it up back at our compound.
Pam was just gone.
BUCKMASTER 2014
Buckmaster’s first thought was that the man was not in the bar. He looked around carefully but did not see Worth. He went back outside to double check. Yep. There was Worth’s BMW. The license plate checked with the information from DMV. If he wasn’t at Shookies then he had to have left with someone else. Buckmaster tailed Worth and had been sitting in his cruiser with the lights out watching Worth’s car from when Worth entered the bar until now. If he left, he went out the back door with the help of someone else. Although possible, Buckmaster did not think it likely and went back into the bar.
This time he saw the man slouched back in the far corner with a woman who was obviously a working girl doing the drunks for tips and whatever else she could get. Her dress was too tight for her age and figure and she looked as if she had applied her make-up with a trowel. Buckmaster walked over and looked down at Worth who was well on his way to being falling-down drunk. If he was allowed to get into his car he would be a danger to himself and anyone else he met on the road. Buckmaster showed his badge to Worth and the woman. She got up and left in a hurry looking for greener pastures free from police.
Buckmaster sat down across from Worth. “Evening Mr. Worth. My name is Buckmaster and I’m looking into the death of Pam McCaal and I would like to ask you a few questions.
Doug looked at him blearily. “Questions about what?”
“You and Mrs. McCaal were friends?”
>
“Uh huh. Wanna drink?”
“No and neither do you. I’m telling the barkeep to cut you off and call an Uber driver to get you home.”
“Gotta car,” Worth said.
“Yep and if I see you even open the door to that car I’ll arrest you for DUI. This is not the first time so if you mess up again you may never be driving that pretty little car until you are much older.”
Worth shook his head slowly back and forth “I just can’t catch a break.” He looked down into his empty glass. “Not a fucking break.”
Buckmaster brought his fist down on the table top. The loud bang scared Worth; his eyes momentarily focused under the influence of adrenaline. People at other tables looked their way. “You listen to me Worth. Go home and sleep this off. I will be by tomorrow to ask you some questions so don’t wake up and start drinking or I’ll take you down to the station and you can sober up there. Which would you prefer?”
Worth looked sulky. “Okay, okay.”
Buckmaster smiled grimly. “Now go home and stay there until I arrive tomorrow. Understood?”
Worth nodded and Buckmaster got up from the table and walked over to the bar where Julie stood wiping another dirty glass. “That guy,” he turned and pointed at Worth “He needs a ride home. See that he doesn’t get in his car. If that happens I’ll be coming after you and Shookie. I’m sure that would not make him a happy camper, understood?”
“Whatever you say, Sheriff.” Julie looked as if she had just finished sucking on a lemon.
“Is the man a regular?”
“Sorta.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“He used to come in almost every night, sit at the bar and have a few beers. Always handled it okay. Never gave any trouble and left a good tip. Then he stopped coming I figured he had upped his game and gone somewhere else. He never seemed to be hurting for money, know what I mean?” She put the glass back underneath the bar. “Couple of days ago he comes in but only has a beer and then leaves. He seemed kinda down. Tonight he comes in and starts downing shots and mixing liquors like he’s trying to find a bridge to jump off of, you know, and I told him to take it easy and he starts yelling about it’s all his fault and when I asked him what he’d done he just kept sayin that it was his fault. Then Susie comes over and handles him. She’s good with the drunks. Talks to ‘em real nice. She got him calmed down and then you came in.”
“What time he get here?”
“I’m not his dammed keeper. Probably around nine. Place was busy and I didn’t pay him much attention until he started yelling.”
“Okay get him home in one piece even if you have to drive him yourself or I’ll have this dive crawling with inspectors like you would not believe. They would have a field day.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it sheriff.”
“Good.” Buckmaster turned and walked out of Shookies and over to his car. It had been another long day and he would be glad to get home.
The porch light was still on when he pulled up to his house, but the rest of the house was dark. He let himself in as quietly as possible, removed his shoes and walked through the kitchen and living room to the bedroom. He heard Nicole breathing softly and regularly as he removed his clothes and slipped under the covers. She felt so good next to him and, not for the first time, he told himself that he was a very lucky man.
“Hey there sailor. Looking for a good time?” Nicole’s throaty whisper filled his ear.
Buckmaster chuckled and put his arm around her head. “Whatcha got?” he asked in a lecherous tone. How could he have known that the scared, miserable child he had rescued from a rapist long ago would one day become this beautiful sensual woman who would marry him, warm his bed, cook his meals (okay sometimes she’d just bring food home from the diner where she was a waitress) and keep him from totally losing his mind from the stress of his job. He gently reached around her shoulder and cupped one of her breasts beneath her nighty feeling the warm mass move under his hand as soft as a child’s kiss. “Sorry I’m so late,” he whispered.
“Just in time sailor, just in time,” Nicole whispered back and slipped her hand into his underpants to what she called his magic button both for its small size and for the magical feeling that she had when her man was inside her. Whoever said that size matters was a fool she thought as she felt it come alive under her ministrations. It’s not what you got but how you use it that counts. She felt his hand leave her breast and, a moment later glide between her legs exploring the soft hairy wetness of her. She pushed herself on top of him as he entered her, and she ran both hands through his chest hair. “Happy hour starts now,” she purred.
The man who opened the door the following morning did not look much better than he had the night before. His hair was tousled and stuck up at odd angles in greasy spikes and he had not yet shaved. In fact, it was obvious that he had just gotten out of bed in response to Buckmaster’s repeated knocking. Doug Worth was a mess and the old bathrobe he had thrown on merely emphasized that fact.
“Good morning, Mr. Worth. Sorry to wake you but it is almost noon after all,” Buckmaster announced in a cheerful tone.
“Fuck you Sheriff. Whatdya want?”
“Is that any way to talk? I want the same thing I wanted last night and that is to talk with you about Pam McCaal”
“Last night? I don’t remember much.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Go get yourself together and then we’ll talk. Okay if I come in while I wait for you?”
Worth stared at the partly open door that he was holding with one hand as if he had never before seen it. “Oh sure, sure.” He swung the door open wide turned and walked slowly up a flight of stairs to the second floor.
Buckmaster walked into the living room and stood at a large double door leading out onto a flagstone terrace complete with the obligatory grill and colorful umbrella. Quite a place, he thought. Taxes must be out of this world. The view, though, was spectacular. Past the terrace and a huge stretch of lawn was Lake Compton shining blue in the morning sun. The white dot of a small sailboat went slowly across the far shore. He did not know how long he stood there admiring the lake, but he turned as he heard Worth coming down the stairs behind him.
“Much better,” Buckmaster told him.
“Sorry for the way I opened the door.” Doug now looked human if somewhat the worse for wear. He was clothed, shaved, shod and had probably swallowed some aspirin. His eyes though were still bloodshot, and he walked slowly into the living room and sat down in an old chair covered in some sort of shiny brown and tan fabric that probably dated from the nineteen fifties. “I meant to get up earlier but just didn’t make it.”
“You and Mrs. McCaal were friends?”
“Yes. I thought so anyway. I have no idea what she thought about me.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Since I was a kid. C’mon Sheriff. You’ve seen this place and the one up the hill a bit. All one family on land bought by an ancestor who later built the house that Pam owned.” He looked down at the floor between his legs. “I have no idea who owns it now.” When he looked up there were tears in his eyes. “No clue.”
Buckmaster looked at the man sitting by the fireplace. Worth seemed to be deeply saddened by his cousin’s death, but he didn’t seem the type of man to have feelings for anyone but himself. Well opposites often attract, didn’t they? After talking with her ex-husband, he still had no clear idea what kind of person Pam had been. McCaal had loved her and that said a lot but left a lot that he did not know. “What kind of person was she?” he asked softly as he sat down in a chair opposite Worth. Worth did not respond. “Mr. Worth?” He began again.
“Call me Doug, please. Calling me Mr. Worth doesn’t seem right somehow.”
“Okay Doug. Tell me about Pam, the girl from your childhood and the one you knew in recent years.”
&
nbsp; “She was a good ten years older than me,” he began. “When I was a little kid I used to see her sometimes coming down the road with friends chatting and laughing. My nanny would smile and say hi, but I was too shy to say anything and just watched her. She was so beautiful that I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Just the impressions of a young boy. Pam always seemed to know the answer to everything. When my parents took me up to the Pease house to have dinner with them, Pam used to pull out cards and we would play Go Fish or something like that. I adored her. I wanted to be just like her and when I obviously fell short of that goal my life and hers went in opposite directions. She was smart too. Whizzed through Choate like it was a public school and then onto Vassar where she graduated Summa Cum Laude. I was lucky to make it through high school. I started college but then dropped out because partying was much more fun. We saw each other a couple of times during those years. She was snotty and arrogant, at least that’s how she seemed to me but then by that time I was partying pretty much every day and fucking any warm body that came my way and why not? My dear old dad was paying for it so the sky’s the limit. By comparison she seemed like the virgin queen. I asked her once if she had ever had a man. She told me that there was plenty of time for that. I thought she was stuck-up and stupid. I was the stupid one.” Doug spat out the last words with a bitterness that surprised Buckmaster who remained silent and took occasional notes. He had no doubt that this on and off friendship was complicated. Family relationships were like that. He thought of his wife’s family and grimaced.
“Earlier this year I tried to contact her. I was curious about what she had become and where she had been. Remember that my last meeting with her had not been good. I thought she was awful and she thought I was flushing a good life down the toilet and I was. Anyway, my Dad found out that Pam had moved back up here, and he gave me her address. Amazingly enough we got along okay and then I blew it once again. The story of my so-called life. I got blasted and showed up at her place the next morning and almost puked all over her living room.
