Jason used the remainder of the scheduled hour to take a quick shower, the water as cold as razors against his skin. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her - nude and stretched out before him, waiting for him to have his way with her. It was maddening, like the incessant taps of a woodpecker when all you wanted was a nap.
I could have.
Maybe I should have.
And what about Flynn? I couldn’t do that to him.
But he’d probably never even know …
But that doesn’t make it right.
No, it doesn’t. I did the right thing.
And … Julia.
He wished he’d never met Savannah Sturgess.
When his skin was waterlogged and his anatomy had shrunk to embarrassing proportions, he got out of the shower, dressed himself, and headed downstairs to join Amber in the living room.
She was engrossed in Good Witch, which continued as if on a loop on the television. He tried getting into it, tried to follow the plot, but it just didn’t hold his interest. He was glad Amber liked it, but he didn’t blame Brent a bit for complaining. The beginnings of hunger had just announced themselves when his phone chirped, telling him he had a text.
It was from Brent: Really REALLY hungry, Dad.
Jason texted back: Of course you are. You’re stoned.
Some moments passed, then: I’m not anymore.
Not wanting to cook, Jason wrote: Wise Guys?
YES!!! :)
K. What do you want?
A chicken wrap, onion rings, a fish sandwich, and a large Coke.
Jason grabbed the keys.
Brent texted again: And fries 2. LOTS of fries!!!
Jason texted once more: You want to tell me again that you’re not still stoned?? He couldn’t help smiling - not that he’d ever let Brent see that. “Come on, Amber. Let’s go to Wise Guy’s.”
In the car, Amber stared out the window at the tree-lined street, watching as they passed houses and shops.
“Well? What do you think?” asked Jason.
“I like it here, Daddy.”
“Do you?”
“Mm-hmm.” She paused. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweetie?”
She hesitated. “Stevie Rose says the lady next to us in the white house is a witch. She says she only comes out at night and looks through people’s windows to find kids and babies that she wants to eat. Stevie Rose says-”
He’d hoped Amber might be spared the local lore, but it wasn’t to be. “Mrs. Cooper isn’t a witch, sweetie. She’s a defenseless blind old woman.”
“You mean she can’t see? At all?”
“Not a thing. So even if she were a witch, she couldn’t go looking for children, so you tell Stevie Rose to quit telling stories.” But it wasn’t hard to see where the legend had come from - the old woman was terrifying. He only hoped Amber never had the misfortune of seeing her in the window. The nightmares were sure to keep them both up.
“That’s what I said. And I said that witches aren’t mean anyway - they’re nice, like in Good Witch.”
“And did you also tell her that witches don’t exist?”
“No.”
“Well, you should, because there’s no such thing.”
They passed the cemetery and Amber watched it go by. “What about ghosts?”
“Those are just stories, too, sweetie.”
She looked at him, her expression serious. “Are you sure, Daddy?”
He grinned. “Of course, I’m sure.” Jason pulled the Legacy into Wise Guy’s and parked in an open space next to a massive red-and-yellow sign featuring an order of unrealistically golden fries. “Do you know what you want?”
“Yes. But can I tell them?”
“Of course.” While they waited, Jason played with the radio, trying in vain once more to find something decent. When he recognized the voice of conspiracy deejay Coastal Eddie on KNDL-FM, he grimaced and turned it off. He secretly liked the deejay and often wondered if there wasn’t some truth to his conspiracies, but he didn’t want to risk Amber overhearing anything about serial killings, government cover-ups, UFOs, or vampires.
Within moments, the roller skating blonde appeared at his door, blowing bubbles and looking bored. She took their order and as she skated away, Jason stared at the people inside the burger joint through the large window that fronted the triangular building. When he recognized Travis Delgado sitting in a booth by himself, he almost threw the car in reverse and left, but he and Travis were bound to cross paths sooner or later. He just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.
He looked at Amber. She’d brought Ruby and was talking to her as she wiped a smudge off her face. I should have come alone. He scanned the parking lot for the black Jeep and saw it just a few spaces down. If Travis left the restaurant before the roller skating server returned, he was sure to spot Jason. So, what do I do if he comes over and starts up? Jason wasn’t sure.
He looked back to Delgado, trying to determine how close he was to leaving. The man wasn’t eating, which must mean he hadn’t gotten his order yet. That was a good sign. And it gave Jason a chance to study his enemy - maybe he’d learn something useful about him.
The well-groomed buzz cut suggested self-discipline, as did the muscles, but his physique - which was without an ounce of fat - also suggested vanity. And the root of vanity was usually insecurity, which was clear in his possessiveness of his wife. But everyone has insecurities. Jason wondered what Travis’ were.
The scars he’d seen on the man’s face indicated a violent past. They weren’t surgical scars, Jason was sure of that much. So, what happened? For obvious reasons, bar fights were all that came to mind - and perhaps prison brawls. Though Jason didn’t know if Delgado had ever done time, he certainly looked like he had.
Jason realized he’d have made a lousy detective.
Travis’ head snapped up and Jason followed his gaze. Marlee was heading toward him, probably from the restrooms. Travis stood.
Shit. He’d been waiting for her. They’d already finished eating. Jason tapped the steering wheel nervously as Marlee slung her leopard-print purse over her shoulder and the couple headed toward the doors. Shit, shit, shit! The Delgados exited and headed straight toward him. They walked in silence, neither of them noticing him. Yet. Jason tried to make himself smaller and glanced at Amber. She was caught up in a conversation with Ruby. He hit the lock button and coughed to disguise the sound as all four doors were simultaneously secured.
Amber didn’t notice - another small mercy.
When he looked back up, Travis Delgado’s eyes were on him. He slowed to a stop, a smirk toying at the edges of his mouth.
Just then, Marlee saw him, too. She went pale, then tugged her husband toward the Jeep.
But Travis never broke the stare. He mouthed two unmistakable words at Jason: Dead man. Then his attention shifted to Amber and something about him changed - his eyes took on an unnerving faraway glaze, reminding Jason of distant, frost-covered windows.
It turned his blood to ice.
Jason watched the tremendous muscles working under the black t-shirt as Delgado hefted himself into the Jeep. It rocked under his weight. Marlee climbed into the passenger seat and Travis started the engine, revved it a few times, and then peeled away, tires screeching, gravel flying.
And only then - naturally - did the blonde server skate her way toward Jason’s car with their order.
6
Domesticity
The next morning, after dropping the kids at school, Jason went downstairs to do laundry.
Brent hadn’t wanted to go to school, but Jason, figuring it was probably the worst punishment he could inflict, wouldn’t budge. He told his son he could choose between staying home from school today or missing out on the carnival tonight.
Brent suddenly wasn’t as sick as he’d claimed.
And there was another catch: Jason had meant what he’d said about wanting to meet Liam Sturgess, so instead of going to the carnival with his fri
end as he’d planned, Brent would go with Jason - and introduce them. From there, Jason had said, he’d decide whether or not he’d allow Brent to take off alone with Liam.
The truth was, Jason wouldn’t forbid his son from hanging out with him, but Brent didn’t know that. The prospect of showing up at the fair with his father was punishment enough, but Jason let Brent think he might end up having to spend the whole evening with him.
Aside from that, Jason realized, there wasn’t much else he could do to punish him. In a town where everything was within walking distance, taking away the car was almost pointless - and so was taking away his only friend. Despite his as-long-as-you’re-living-under-my-roof approach, Jason did acknowledge that his son was almost eighteen. He also couldn’t ignore that he himself had drunk plenty of booze and smoked his fair share of dope when he was Brent’s age. Of course, when I was Brent’s age, I also had a baby on the way ...
Seventeen was an awkward time. You were neither a boy nor a man at that age and it was your experiences - even the mistakes - that tipped you in the right direction and set you on the path to manhood. Jason realized he’d been trying to force Brent to remain a boy - and it wasn’t working. It was time to allow his son to start making his own choices, even if he didn’t agree with them, even if they were mistakes - and he’d start tonight. After meeting Liam Sturgess, he’d let Brent go off with him and do whatever normal teenage boys did.
As he folded shirts and placed them in the laundry basket, Jason heard something clatter in his studio. He jumped, letting out a little squeak that would have been embarrassing had anyone been around to hear it.
Jason’s thoughts immediately went to Travis Delgado. He hadn’t been able to get the man’s eerie gaze out of his mind - he’d even dreamed of it last night. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck went on high alert and he had the sudden distinct feeling that he wasn’t alone in the house. Grabbing the closest weapon - a three-quart jug of liquid laundry detergent - he headed toward the massage studio.
He paused outside the door, preparing himself. Slowly, he reached for the knob and beside him, his stretched shadow, as tall and thin and black as the Slender Man, did the same.
He pushed the door open fast.
And saw nothing.
Too many horror novels.
But he knew he’d heard something. He went deeper into the room, looking around. Over the lingering sweetness of scented candles, he could still detect traces of Savannah’s perfume. It brought back unpleasant memories and unwelcome desires, and he made a mental note to buy some Febreze.
Then he noticed that the lamp on the desk had been knocked to the floor. That had to have been what he’d heard. His eyes searched the room.
A low, menacing growl sounded behind him. He spun around, jumping back when he saw two eyes glinting at him from the shadowed depths beneath the massage table. “What the hell?” It was a cat - a very fat black one. It hissed at him, pinning its ears back. “How did you get in here?”
The cat hissed again and made a threatening warble deep in its throat.
Jason set the laundry detergent down, and walked slowly toward it, showing his palms. “Come here, kitty.” He spoke in light tones. “Are you a good kitty? I think you are. Don’t you want to come out and see me?” As he neared, he expected the cat to lunge at him - or at least dart away - but instead, his proximity seemed to calm it down. This told Jason it was a housecat - and it probably belonged to Dottie Blanchard.
“Virgo! There you are!” Dottie took the giant cat from Jason and clutched it to her bosom. “You’re a naughty boy! Naughty, naughty!” The cat flicked his tail and stared at Jason through slitted eyes, clearly resentful at being returned, and given how Dottie held him - on his back like a babe in arms - Jason wasn’t sure he blamed him for trying to run away.
“Where on earth did you find him? I’ve been looking all over for him!” She looked at Jason for the first time and her curious expression reminded Jason that his black swollen eye must have looked pretty hideous.
He unconsciously tipped his head, not wanting to explain the bruises. “He was in my basement.”
Dottie looked shocked. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I don’t know how he might have gotten in.”
“It’s not a problem. He can come over anytime, I just thought you might be missing him.”
Dottie smiled. “Friends, are you?”
Jason chuckled, glad she wasn’t going to ask about his eye. “It took some doing to get him to let me pick him up. He had to get to know me first, I guess, but I’m pretty sure we bonded.” He scratched the tubby feline on the head. “Friends for life, right buddy?”
Virgo ignored him - he was the kind of cat who held a grudge. He lunged out of Dottie’s arms and disappeared over her shoulder, made a surprisingly graceful landing, and meowed at the door.
“Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of coffee? I was just about to call you to find out if Amber is coming over tonight.”
He’d spoken to Dottie earlier and she’d said she’d be pleased to watch Amber if she didn’t want to go to the carnival. It sounded like the offer still stood. Jason - and Virgo - followed Dottie into a sunlit kitchen with cream curtains and outdated cabbage rose wallpaper. As they entered, a half-dozen obese cats scattered from the room, many of them wobbling more than walking. The room smelled of strong coffee and salty dry cat food.
“Sugar and cream?” Dottie poured coffee from the carafe.
“Just black, please.”
She set a steaming cup on a rickety yellow Formica kitchen table and told him to sit down.
He did.
“So, about Amber.” Dottie took a seat across from him.
Jason sipped his coffee and shrugged. “I doubt she’ll want to go to the carnival. She’s terrified of clowns and I’m sure there will be plenty of them around. I asked her and she’s been pretty non-committal. She wants to be tough, you see.”
Dottie nodded her head. “Of course. Though I certainly can’t say I blame her for her fear of clowns. Dreadful, hideous things, aren’t they?”
Jason shrugged. “Personally, it never occurred to me to be afraid of them. I just wish they were actually funny.”
Dottie plucked lint off one of the bright purple flowers on her house dress. “Well, she’s more than welcome to come here if she doesn’t want to go.”
Jason eyed her. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not, dear. She’s a delight.”
“I happen to agree.” Jason smiled.
“Well, then. I guess that’s settled.” Dottie seemed a very lonely woman and Jason felt sorry for her; he was glad that she and Amber enjoyed each other’s company. “Now, then. You were telling me about your eye …”
No I wasn’t. Jason suppressed a smile. Does she really think I’m dense enough to believe we’d been discussing it? But he went along. “Oh, yes.” Unable to resist toying with her a bit, he tried to look like he was thinking hard. “Now where was I …?”
“Um, well. You were saying that… that ...” Dottie looked a little flustered.
Jason had made her suffer long enough. “Oh yeah! So, I was at The Devil’s Triangle with Jim Cooper.”
“Oh, yes.” Dottie nodded as if suddenly recalling where he’d left off.
He told her about his appointment with Marlee and his subsequent confrontation with her husband, not mentioning that he’d seen him at Wise Guy’s last night. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the way the man had looked at Amber. It had made him uneasy, and after what Coop had told him - ‘Rumor has it that Travis has a thing for the girl’ - he figured he was right to feel that way.
“He’s such a terrible, terrible man,” she said. “He always has been. Even when he was a little boy, he was awful. Of course, with that mother of his, I suppose he turned out as well as you might hope.”
“Dottie, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, dear.”
“I heard something. I heard
that Marlee has a daughter.”
“Yes, Rachel.”
“And that Travis … well, that Travis … you know, likes her.”
Dottie nodded. “I’ve heard it myself. Whether or not it’s true, I don’t know. Just rumors, I suspect. Not many people around here get along with him. He makes enemies like most folks make water.” Dottie looked at Jason and touched his hand. “Now don’t you go worrying about that little girl of yours. If Travis is molesting Rachel, she’s the only one he’s molesting - and truth be told, I just can’t see it. He’s a jackass all right, but I don’t know that he has it in him to actually hurt anyone.” Then she looked at Jason’s black eye. “Well, not in the way they say he’s hurting Rachel, anyway.” She shook her head. “Now who you really want to look out for is that damned priest at St. Ann’s, Father Geraldson. He’s got a wandering eye if I ever saw one. Not that he’d have any interest in anyone’s daughter, if you know what I mean …”
Dottie seemed at home like this - sipping coffee and gossiping - and Jason found himself happy to indulge her. He enjoyed hearing her take on the citizens of Shadow Springs, and figured she probably knew better than anyone what was really going on in this town. He was having a good time, but when she brought up Savannah Sturgess, he felt uneasy.
“And you know who else you ought to steer clear of is that Savannah Sturgess. She’s the cause of just about every fight in this town.” She looked at him in a way that told Jason she knew Savannah had been to his house. No doubt she’d seen her car in his driveway.
“I’ve met her,” he said. “Twice. And my son, Brent, has been palling around with her younger brother, Liam. Do you know anything about him, Dottie?”
Sleep Savannah Sleep Page 9
