by Ami Diane
She gathered what food she could with the dishrag while Flo rooted a mop out from the closet. While they cleaned, Ella asked if bullets flying down Main Street was a semi-regular occurrence.
Flo shook her head. “Naw, only happens once every couple of months, maybe.”
“Every couple of months?! What—why?”
“Dunno. Just how it’s always been since they showed up.”
Ella sputtered then shook her head. She was going to have to come up with a bulletproof vest of some kind.
She rinsed the rag out in the sink, and the water turned cherry red. As nonchalant as she could, she said, “Oh, I was wondering if you could give me directions to Will’s place? I wanted to ask him something about Kay.”
Flo’s face lit up. “More investigating? That’s great ‘cause I’ve been wanting to try out my Colt—”
“No. No investigating. Where do you get these weapons, anyway?”
The older woman’s glasses slid down her nose as she turned away. “No place.”
“So, Will?”
“Couple blocks away. Over on J Street. Used to live by the lake, but he needed a bigger workshop. That’s where you’ll find him; not in his house. Just follow the noise.”
After much chiding about Ella cleaning “wrong,” she told her the house number along with a description then kicked her out.
Ella was happy to oblige, told Flo not to burn the manor down, then let the kitchen door swing shut behind her.
J Street looked different in the daylight, without her slinking along the bushes, trying to shake Wink and Flo. Houses lined both sides of the street, the lots growing larger the further “south” she went.
Where the road ended in the distance, the wind turbines she’d seen when she first stumbled into town rotated in a lazy breeze. Beyond the houses on her right, fields full of either wheat or grazing cattle and sheep stretched all the way to the distant demarcation of dunes.
Ella found the house number Flo had given her on a painted sign attached to a white picket fence. The two-story house was… unexpected.
Its soft yellow paint and white trim glowed in the morning light. Large hydrangeas grew next to a wraparound porch. Between the bursts of flowers, English ivy crept up the sides of the abode.
Ella stood under the shade of a tall maple tree, admiring the house. It was the kind of place she dreamed of owning one day. Cozy and safe. Full of dozens of summers with iced tea and gardening and cold winters of curling up by the fireplace.
A prick of jealousy at Will’s good fortune distracted her momentarily from hearing the whir of machinery coming from around the side of the house. Ella remembered Flo saying that he’d probably be in his shop and headed towards the noise.
The lawn swallowed her shoes as she wandered around the side, and she wondered how long it would take to turn brown if they remained in the desert.
A squat, metal structure that looked more overgrown shed than shop sat in the back. Ella rapped her knuckles on the heavy door and pressed her ear to its surface.
“Hello? Will?”
She wasn’t sure he could hear her over his metal grinder, so she slipped inside. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the yellow bulbs and dim light streaming from the one, grimy window. When they had, her jaw dropped.
The place was filled to the brim with tools, hardware, trinkets, gadgets, and many other things she couldn’t identify. But there was an organized chaos to it. It was like being in the laboratory or workshop of a mad scientist, parts Dr. Frankenstein, mechanic, and Martha Stewart rolled into one.
She wove around three busted TV sets and ducked under coils of power cords hanging from one of the rafters.
Will leaned over a workbench, a soldering tool in hand. Light flashed in staccato bursts like she was at a dance club. Ella placed her hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump and whirl around.
“Just me, Will.”
“Ella?” He turned off the soldering iron, and the faint buzz that had been coming from it cut off.
“Sorry, I knocked a few times, but…” Her voice trailed off as she turned a slow circle. “This place is amazing.”
“It’s a mess, but thank you.”
“What’re you working on?”
“Short distance, two-way radios.”
“Oh, like walkie-talkies?”
His face clicked with recognition. “Yes… yes. It was after my time, but I remember hearing that’s what they called them. Anyway, some of these farmers don’t have access to the landlines, and we don’t have the parts to hook up more lines.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Thanks. They’re a long way off from finished. These smaller transceivers are proving to be problematic, especially since I’m salvaging the parts from other things.”
“Like MacGyver. All you need is duct tape.”
“I don’t see how tape would help.”
“No, it’s—doesn’t matter.”
He seemed relieved to drop the subject. “So, what brings you by?”
Ella sank onto the stool next to him. It rocked a little, so she was forced to lean into the workbench. “I—are those scones?” She indicated the plate full of fluffy white cranberry scones across from her.
“Yeah. Wink stopped by earlier to thank me for fixing her sink.”
After dragging the plate closer, he offered her one. She grabbed two. The first bite broke off and melted in her mouth.
“I’m surprised she left the kitchen. She was working so hard on that lasagna of hers last night I thought I’d have to send for help.”
“Yeah, her and Flo have a bitter rivalry over who makes the better one. We’ve all agreed not to step in so we can keep reaping the benefits.”
“But what if it gets more serious?”
“Oh, it’s been serious the last few months. Back in March, Flo poured laxative all over Wink’s dish. Nobody knew until the first bout of incontinence hit.”
Ella choked on a bite of scone. “What? And you guys still let them do this?”
“Sort of. That’s why the town bylaws were amended. They can only bring their lasagnas once every two months. Their names are in it and everything. Keeps the bathroom issues to a minimum.” His expression became haunted, and he shifted on his stool, leaving little doubt that he was one of the unfortunate ones who’d partaken in Wink’s dish.
“Those two fight like cats and dogs.”
“I think their friendship just goes back so far they forgot what made them friends in the first place.”
“Like a married couple.” Ella took another bite of scone, thinking about her parents. And her grandparents. And most of her married friends.
Will frowned. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Doesn’t it? Do you know any happy couple?”
“Jimmy and Rose.”
“But they’re still in love. Everything’s still new and fresh, makes the love easier. No, I mean, do you know a married couple that’s been together longer than, say… thirty years who don’t peck at each other like hens?”
“Every couple argues. That doesn’t mean there’s no love in the marriage.”
“True. But there comes a point when that’s all they do, tear each other apart. They get so sick of each other, so familiar, that the love fizzles out. But they’re too codependent they can’t conceive of a life apart, so their relationship becomes this toxic, suffocating quagmire built on bitterness. It happens in every marriage.” She took a breath.
“My God. You don’t really think that, do you?” Will searched her face.
Ella bit her lip as she felt tears prick the back of her eyes. Did she? “I don’t want to. But that’s all I’ve ever seen and experienced. I want to believe that it can be better, that a couple can argue and have their rough patches and still love each after fifty years. But time makes all things grow dull.”
He was quiet a long time before he finally said, “I feel sorry for you, El.”
His words stung and hit a part
of her heart she hadn’t felt in a long time. She placed her half-eaten, forgotten scone back on the plate and stood, putting more space between them.
“Sorry, I didn’t come for the heart-to-heart or the pity. I actually wanted to ask you something.”
He didn’t say anything but his face was open, waiting, so she plunged ahead.
“Did you know Kayline was gathering dirt on her father?”
Will’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. “What?”
Ella relayed everything Six had said.
“I had no idea. I wonder why she didn’t tell me.” He stared past her at some distant point. “It doesn’t surprise me, though.”
“What would she have found?”
He let out a deep breath. “Honestly? She wouldn’t ever tell me. She alluded to her father having done something unforgivable, something unspeakable, but she wouldn’t ever say what. I got the impression her tight lips were due more to trauma than anything else.
“But I do know the reason the two of them were on the road that day they arrived in Keystone was because they were on the lam.”
“Really? From what?”
He shook his head. “She would never say. Why did Six tell you all this, anyhow?”
Ella picked at an invisible spot on her pants. “I may have threatened to reveal his hiding spot to the sheriff if he didn’t.” She told him about the shootout.
“Ella, that was foolish. He just tried to kill you.”
“I know, I know.”
“You sneaked into his cabin. What if he’d found you?”
“Technically, I didn’t go inside.”
He shot her a withering glare.
“Right. Not the point.” She held up her hands. “Look, there’s more I have to tell you. I’m sorry I waited. I just didn’t want you involved until I had evidence to back up my suspicions.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” He crossed his arms. “Go on.”
“Six is the one who broke into Kay’s.”
CHAPTER 26
WILL STARED AT her. “He broke into Kay’s? Are you sure?”
“Yes. He all but admitted it.”
Will’s jaw twitched. Without warning, he slammed his hand down on the workbench. “That rummy! That sap! Good for nothing dewdropper!”
“Language, Will.” She feigned a gasp. “I’m just kidding. I have no idea what you just said.”
“And he did it just to get those documents?”
“Looks like it.”
He slouched on his stool, most of the fire dying in his eyes. “Well, you should’ve told me you were going to his place.”
“So you could stop me?”
“Well, that. And if I failed—”
“You would have.”
“—I would’ve gone with you.”
“Really?” She tilted her head, seeing him in a different light.
“Really. I’m on your side, Ella. Why does that surprise you? What happened to you to make you distrust people so much?”
Something pinched in her chest. She pressed her lips together, collected herself, and stood. Their whole conversation that morning had gotten too personal, too fast.
“Look, I just thought you should know what’s going on.” She backed towards the door. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Next time I do something stupid, I’ll invite you along.”
“See that you do.” His mouth twitched, and for a moment, she thought he might smile. But the moment passed, and the levity in his eyes faded.
“Thanks for the scone,” she said then slipped out the door.
Her stomach twisted into knots the entire walk back home. Why had she said all of those things about marriage? Where had that even come from?
Sure, the topic had come up in past relationships, but it’d never gotten to the point where she needed to pick out bouquets. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the whole marriage, kids, white picket fence, but she wanted so much more. They just kept getting shoved down her list of priorities.
Or maybe today’s verbal diarrhea with Will had been her way of telling herself how she really felt about marriage. Her view of marriage was so jaded, maybe unconsciously she didn’t want it after all. She didn’t want it because she saw the monster it would become, full of bitterness and regret. How could she want that?
After she got back to the inn, Ella decided to go for a short run to clear her head. It was 11:15, and the temperature was already flirting with ninety-five degrees. But the trail around the lake would be cooler.
As she passed through the park, she spotted Wink walking Chester on a leash—or rather, Chester jumping around spastically while Wink tried to keep up. Ella wondered what was with the harness and sudden reining in of the animal.
She waved at both as she passed. Chester scrambled up a tree, pulling his leash taught.
“Need help?” Ella called.
Wink shook her head, too distracted to give a proper response. With hands planted on her bony hips, she gave the squirrel a tongue lashing that could still be heard even after Ella rounded the park.
Back in her room, she peeled off the sweaty clothes and tossed them onto the mountain in the corner. The time had come.
With a heavy heart, she stuffed the pile into her suitcase turned laundry basket and lugged it down to the basement. During one of her first days there, Rose had given her a quick tour, pointing out the different doorways. Ella couldn’t remember what all of them were for, but the one for the basement stuck out by way of creepiness and cobwebs hanging just inside the darkened staircase.
Old boards protested with each step on the stairs. The smell of mothballs and moisture clung heavy to the air. Before reaching the bottom, she had ducked half a dozen cobwebs, ninja swiping two that had been eye-level.
As she stepped onto the cold concrete subfloor, her hopes that the rest of the room would be an improvement over the stairs came crashing down.
A couple of bulbs hummed with electricity overhead—their wan light unable to pierce the shadowy corners. The expansive room looked like something out of a low budget horror movie. Any moment now, someone with a chainsaw was going to jump out from the shadows.
She set to work sorting and dumping her clothes into the washing machine, all the while, keeping one eye on her surroundings. The concrete walls muffled any noise, and the silence felt like a force pushing on her ears.
After starting her load, the ancient washing machine wobbled, mercifully breaking the silence. Finished, she half ran to the bottom step. The staircase was one of those open ones, and she could see piles of clutter behind it.
In the shadows, under the third step, a white t-shirt with a black Nike logo poked out of a suitcase.
Ella paused, quirking her head to the side. In a town quite literally from the past, the item seemed out of place, not impossible, but definitely unusual.
Retracing her steps, she edged into the darkness behind the stairs and dragged the heavy luggage over the concrete floor.
After pulling out the shirt, she held it aloft under one of the incandescent bulbs. It was just a plain t-shirt, nothing special.
Ella frowned. Why is it here, though?
Before last week, she would’ve thought nothing about stored clothing in a basement, but in Keystone, a town where clothing was in high demand, it seemed odd not to at least give it away. Odder still was imagining either Jimmy or Rose wearing it. Her mind tried to conjure up the image but came up blank.
Ella bit her lip, her pulse soaring. There was, however, a closet rife with this brand.
Her breath quickened as she unzipped the suitcase the rest of the way.
“No,” she whispered.
It was filled with Kay’s missing clothes. Jeans, sweaters, and even a swimsuit. Ella rooted around gently to see if there was anything non-wardrobe related deeper inside.
Her hand hit something hard in the folds of a sweatshirt. Peeling back the layers, she pulled out a picture frame of Will smiling adoringly at
Kay.
Ella didn’t know how long she stared absently at the photo, her mind racing with the implications of finding the suitcase in the basement. Eventually, she replaced the frame, zipped the luggage up, and shoved it back to its spot under the stairs.
Her breath came in spurts as she took the stairs two at a time. She just wanted to get out of there. On the last step, she tripped and spilled into the hallway. Pain shot up her shin, but she ignored it as she sprinted down the hall.
Back in the safety of her room, she shut the door and slid to the floor.
What was Kay’s suitcase doing in the basement? Had she put it there or did Jimmy or Rose? She reached for any other explanation, intentionally ignoring the obvious.
It was there because she was going to run away with Jimmy. Had he gotten cold feet? Had Rose found out? With each passing second, Ella was growing less and less confident that Six was the murderer and more certain one of the innkeepers was responsible. The problem was, which one?
CHAPTER 27
ELLA PACED THE wooden floor of her bedroom. She needed to figure out her next move.
With a deep breath, she made the decision to tell Sheriff Chapman everything she knew. But first, she needed a cool, quick bath to wash away the sweat from her run and the cobwebs from the basement of horrors.
The water was a salve for her frayed nerves. By the time she stepped onto the fluffy bathmat, Ella felt fresh and smelled miles better than before.
She debated on going back to the basement to retrieve her wet clothes but in the end decided her visit to the sheriff’s office was more important. The decision wasn’t, in any way, influenced by her fear of the creepy basement.
Ella dragged her shoes down the sidewalk, dreading her conversation with Chapman. Ahead, the silhouette of a cat moved under the jalopy she’d used as cover during the Tombstone Shootout, as she was now calling it. She was pretty sure this car had sprouted from the ground, and the town grew around it. If anyone ever moved it, it was sure to have roots going deeper than any tree in Keystone.
