by Carrie Marsh
The week flew by and before Mary realized it was Friday afternoon. With only Alabaster knowing what she was up to, Mary thought that if she were planning a reunion in a park, she’d try and get there early to get things set up. Maybe there were some outlaws from Morhollow already there. Maybe her skull and devil-woman tattooed Outlaw would be there.
Armed with nothing more than a pair of binoculars and a notebook, Mary left Grace behind early Saturday morning and began her trek to Piltcher Park.
Having lived in Morhollow for so many years and walking the park with Grace for at least half of them, Mary knew even the smallest paths that would lead experienced hikers to beautiful, secluded areas. It was possible to feel like you were lost, secluded from everyone else in the world but Mary knew that every path led back to the main trail through the park. It was stick-to-it-ness that would bring you home. But the smaller trails would also lead to the various camping and picnicking spots.
So, with a deep breath, she headed into the park and instead of heading to the right to join on the biking/jogging path, she went to the left to follow the dirt path. At first, it was wide and well-traveled. But the farther in she got, following rustic signs that pointed to different routes like Dropwood, Coyote Trail, or Miss Pass, the smaller and more rugged the trails became.
The first clearing was for Roger’s Point. With the fall leaves still covering the trees with their autumn hues, it truly was a lovely view to take in. The clearing was small with a sprinkling of picnic benches around a manmade pond. There was no activity at this location.
Mary picked up a large branch that had fallen from one of the mighty trees around her and used it as a walking stick. Carefully, she wove her way along what was called Bumblebee Path because it really wove back and forth, up over small hills and down into small ditches. Fall bushes blazed bright red along the way, birds landed at berry bushes to have their fill, and squirrels dashed underneath all of them as Mary disrupted their search for nuts and treasures.
The next clearing was called Goodenow Clearing. It was bigger and a larger walking trail could be seen on the other side of the grounds. But it was devoid of people, too. Looking at her watch, Mary saw it was a good bit past sunrise. Her gut told her these people would skate the fine line of the law. Breaking it wouldn’t serve them any good but getting right up to that edge would be a fun game to play with the local law enforcement. But Piltcher Park opened at sunrise and closed at dusk. These bikers were not going to wait for the all clear from the police to descend on what was really just another party.
As Mary walked, she realized she was feeling pretty good. Even if she came back with nothing, she wouldn’t feel the trip was a waste. How long had it been since she really got back to nature?
It was common knowledge among witches that much of their strength came from the natural world around them. Trees. Flowers. Rain. Although Mary walked weekly with Grace, admiring the birds and the trees and all the beauties that sprang from the ground, Mary couldn’t remember the last time she had gone deep into the woods alone. It was like seeing a dear friend after a long absence.
She also noticed a strange feeling in her gut. It was subtle at first but as she made her way along the thin path, she felt it pulling her along. A thin wooden sign suddenly popped up in front of her. The arrow pointing to the right read Poe’s Hill. The second read Tindle Crossing.
A strong force descended on Mary and at first, she was sure the direction she should go was toward Poe’s Hill. After all, that was where the whole thing started. But she soon realized that was not right. With a few steps in that direction, the hair stood up on her neck. She kept looking behind her, thinking someone was coming or calling her name or both. But there was nothing there except the lonely path that hadn’t been walked for a long time. Mary shook her head and took a step in the direction of Tindle Crossing. Before she realized what was happening, she had almost broke into a run along the winding trail. Finally, slightly out of breath, she saw the clearing.
The gravelly voice of a man singing “Bad to the Bone” came from a stereo stacked on a picnic table. The chrome of a dozen of motorcycles shined in the morning sunlight, and it was obvious some of these people had averted the law and spent the night in the park. Not only was it obvious from the litter that had been scattered all around but the aura of despair, rage, and deviant behavior was covering everything around and spreading. Alabaster had been right. This was not a healthy environment.
Now that Mary had found what she was looking for, she wasn’t sure what to do. From where Mary was, she could have observed the entire group unseen for hours. Raising the binoculars, she saw there were fourteen men and six women. There were about seven of them who could fit the size and build of the man who had been in Bruce’s home a week ago.
A few of the men were working to raise a large tent. Others were drinking and smoking, talking loudly over the music as their women watched. A couple were near the bikes, talking, exchanging handshakes and waving as still more bikers started to show up.
“It’s now or never.” Mary mumbled. “If I wait and there are too many I may never get out of here.”
Working up her courage, she began walking down the path that led past the huge picnic area. The sweat that started to soak her shirt and drip down the middle of her back was from the exercise as well as nerves. As soon as she came into view, nearly every head turned in her direction. Not a single face was friendly.
Before she could do anything more than wave an awkward and silly yoo-hoo to the group, four of the six women were up and quickly approaching.
If you ever wanted to try your hand at acting, Mary Tuttle, now is your biggest audition. She smiled like a woman who was absolutely clueless.
“You lost?” The question came from a woman wearing a thick blue bandana around her forehead nearly covering her eyes. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and tugged at the side of her snug blue jeans. Her t-shirt exposed most of her arms and chest, revealing a roadmap of tattoos. Her associates were similarly dressed and tattooed but their hair was different. Each woman could easily beat her within an inch of her life. She had to act quickly.
“Hello.” Mary smiled. “I was just following my friend the golden-fronted woodpecker. He led me off my usual path today.” She waved her notebook that she had scribbled a couple of bird viewings in. It helped her bird watching flim-flam sound more believable.
“This is a private party, lady. You need to go follow your pecker someplace else.” All the women chuckled. Had Mary been in her own store with Grace behind her, she would have given this young lady a piece of her mind for spouting such a rude comment. But given she was severely outnumbered, out of her own element, unable to fight, and at least two decades older than these women, Mary pretended not to know what they were talking about.
“I’m sorry.” Mary put her hand to her head and gave a crooked smile. “I really shouldn’t have come all this way. I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt. I wish I had my water bottle to…” Just as she was about to finish her sentence, her legs gave out slightly, sending her toppling forward.
The woman in the blue bandana rushed forward and caught Mary before she could fall flat on her face. The biker smelled of leather, cigarettes, and suntan oil.
“Jeez, lady.” The woman held her up. “Max, get her a water before she drops dead on the spot.”
“I just need to rest for a minute. That’s all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bandana woman barked. “Can you walk? You can sit at the picnic table.”
Mary carefully walked with the women toward the nearest picnic table. It was a couple yards from where they were setting up the large canopy. Two of the women broke off from the small group and went to the men, who continued to stare at Mary as if she had brought the plague with her.
Suddenly, Mary’s breath really was coming short and she couldn’t understand why. She sat down and tried to gulp the air down but it was a struggle. The woman called Max sauntered up to her with a bottle of water
. She wore hip huggers that let her tattooed beer belly hang slightly over the buckle of her belt. The t-shirt she was wearing only covered her top half. Her black eyeliner looked like it had been around her eyes for at least twenty-four hours, and it perfectly matched her jet-black hair that was ratted high.
“Thanks,” Mary puffed. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her. But when she looked to the group of men, she saw the same sticky black aura she had seen around Summer around three of the men. Two of those men fit the same build as the one in Bruce’s house. Only one of the two was wearing an Outlaw’s vest. That didn’t mean the other didn’t have it, but he wasn’t wearing it. Mary took a chance and dove into uncharted waters.
“You ladies should be careful.” Mary took a gulp of water. “There was a girl murdered in this park just a couple of weeks ago. Pretty girls, like you. So, stay close together. Just in case.”
Bandana woman laughed. “Nobody is going to hurt us.”
“Well, I wouldn’t think so. Not with boyfriends like those.” Mary jerked her chin toward the men as they spoke among themselves, still turning to watch Mary while they puffed cigarettes and drank early morning beers. “My gosh. They look like they eat nails for breakfast.” She chuckled, waiting for the women to laugh, too, but they didn’t.
“What do you know about someone getting murdered?” Max asked.
Mary looked at her innocently. “Are you kidding? I found the body. Well, actually, my friend Grace spotted it first but we were walking together. It was a girl from town. Summer Moran.”
Mary rubbed the cold water bottle on her forehead and watched the reactions of the women. Bandana woman and Max stepped back and whispered to each other quickly.
“I knew Summer,” the third girl in the group offered. She was smaller than the others but what she lacked in girth, she made up in ink. She was like Lydia the Tattooed Lady of the circus freak show. Her arms were covered in tattoos and as Mary nonchalantly observed them, she realized they went all the way up her neck. That was when she saw it. “Yeah, Summer was always hanging around. She was Gargoyle’s girl for a while. Then I saw her with Hawk. But she was mostly with the Governor’s baby brother. He wasn’t a biker.”
“The Governor?” Mary asked quietly. Her eyes focused on the necklace the girl was wearing.
“Yeah,” Lydia the Tattooed lady replied. “The Governor.” She pointed to a man who was slinking his way in their direction. It was the man Mary had mentally checked as the possible guy in Bruce’s home. He was wearing the leather vest, his boots looked scarily familiar, and as he pointed at Mary, she saw his bicep flex.
“This is a private party, lady.” It was him. Mary was sure of it. His voice matched the low, menacing voice she’d heard when he spoke into the phone about getting paid. But, more importantly, there was the skull with the ribbons and devil-woman on it.
“Gov,” Lydia the Tattooed Lady said. “She’s leaving. She just needed a water.”
“You’ve got your water. Now I suggest you go.” The Governor stood about six paces in front of Mary and pulled his vest aside to reveal the butt of a gun tucked in his jeans.
“Really, Gov?” Lydia the Tattooed Lady clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“I’m going. I didn’t mean to cause any problems.” Mary looked at the ground. “I feel much better, honey.” She patted Lydia the Tattooed Lady’s arm. “That’s a lovely necklace you’re wearing.”
“Thanks. I got it from a boyfriend.” The words she spoke obviously meant more to the Governor, who squinted his eyes at the tattooed girl the same way Dirty Harry squinted at bank robbers.
“Get your ass over there.” He pointed to where the other women had congregated. Mary realized it was on the opposite side of the picnic area. They were all snickering like they knew the punch-line before the joke was finished.
“Some men just know how to treat a lady,” she spat as she walked away and did as she was told.
“Well, if I see any ladies, I’ll be sure to treat them accordingly,” he snarled, glaring back at Mary.
Mary didn’t like this man. But she couldn’t let it show. Instead, she raised her hands in the surrender pose and stood up.
“I’m sorry.” Those two words were the only thing Mary could think to say that over and over again as she made her way back to the path. There was no talking to a man like this and as she looked down at his boots, she felt like she was trapped underneath that bed again. “I’m going.”
With each step, Mary tried to listen for a set of heavy boots following her. It was just a matter of yards to the edge of the forest and the tiny path that led her this way. Every nerve inside her wanted to turn around and look back but her mind screamed not to. If any one of them saw her do that, they might think she was getting one last look to report to the police, the FBI, or Homeland Security.
Instead, she just kept her head steady and focused on closing the gap between her and the forest. Finally, with the feeling of eyes boring into her back, Mary made it to the forest threshold and quickly maneuvered herself out of sight enough to look back. No one was following her.
Common sense would say just get the heck out of Dodge, Mary. But she couldn’t. She had to take a peek at what the Governor was doing now that she was gone.
With a deep breath, Mary scouted the trees and found a perfectly accommodating evergreen that would suit her needs perfectly. Within seconds, she was up in the trunk, climbing easily up the branches that were placed like well- measured rungs on a ladder. Taking a seat in the crux of a thick branch next to the trunk, she withdrew her binoculars and spied the Outlaws still at the picnic area.
It wasn’t long before Mary was kicking herself for not just leaving. The Governor and another man were heading toward the forest where Mary had entered. The tattooed girl chased after them, shaking her head and waving her arms but the two men didn’t pay any attention to her as they got closer and closer.
The woman with the bandana took the woman by her tattooed arm and pulled her back with the other women, handing her a beer and what looked to be something a little stronger than your average Marlboro.
Mary couldn’t make out what she was trying to say to them. But as the Governor got closer, she definitely heard what he said.
“She couldn’t have gotten very far.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A LADY KNOWS WHEN TO LEAVE
A LADY KNOWS WHEN TO LEAVE
From Mary’s perch, she could see the men passing by directly below her. A dirty gray shadow seemed to blanket everything around them as they moved. It wasn’t the gross black stuff Mary had seen where they’d found Summer. But it was a spiritually toxic aura that oozed from their very pores.
They walked in no particular direction and were not following the path, probably unaware there was a small path to follow. But they went in the general direction Mary had started to go before she circled back to get another look at what they were doing.
Why? Why did you have to come back around to spy on them?
Perhaps it wasn’t that bad. Had she just kept walking, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t have caught up with her. Who knew what these guys had planned to do with her? Why didn’t she listen to Alabaster and just let this go?
Just then, a monarch butterfly fluttered across Mary’s field of vision as if purposely trying to catch her attention and landed on her knee. Mary didn’t move but just watched the little creature as it rested there. Its wings opened and closed, showing off its magnificent orange color. It had to be one of the last butterflies of the summer. What a blessing it was to see such a wee-beasty so close. It kept her company for several long minutes until the rustle of heavy footstep jarred it out of its resting place and it fluttered away in a happy zig-zag through the air.
Mary looked down and saw the two men returning.
“She was a lot faster than she let on,” the other man told the Governor. “But I don’t think that means she was a spy or anything. I am pretty convinced she was just a w
eird old lady.”
Mary held her breath.
“I don’t care. Something about her wasn’t right,” the Governor stated. He walked with his hands clenched into fists. His muscles were tight and sinewy like they had been stretched and wound to the breaking point. “And that dip, Regina. Jeez, she’ll talk to anybody.”
“She’s just trying to get your attention, McGovern.” The other man elbowed the Governor in the side.
Did that man just say McGovern? The Governor! Of course! Mary nearly slid out of her perch as the clues fell into place. That McGovern was Bruce McGovern’s big brother. The Governor was just a nickname and one that made perfect sense.
“She needs to be taught a lesson. Tell Max she needs to keep the girl in line. A night at the wheel will do her some good.”
Mary didn’t know what the wheel was nor did she want to. She wanted these two men to hurry up and get away from the hiking trail before her legs and left arm fell asleep and gravity did its dirty work, pulling her quickly and painfully to the ground.
They continued their conversation, looking around, and Mary just prayed they wouldn’t look up. No matter how hard she tried to listen to what they were saying, the little snippets didn’t make any sense. She managed to hear the words drop, full payment, and respect. Enough true crime shows told her there was probably some kind of drug exchange going on. These guys sure weren’t exchanging recipes.
But Mary didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about any of that. If they wanted their brains on drugs to be eggs bubbling in a frying pan, that was up to them. But if they knew anything about what happened to Summer, she wasn’t going to find out now eavesdropping from a tree.
“Let’s go. I can hear more coming.” The Governor nudged his fellow Outlaw and they began to leave the woods. Mary held her breath. It was a faint rumble but the Governor was right. Starting deep in her chest was the telltale vibration of approaching Harley-Davidsons. From the sound of it, Mary thought there were quite a few of them thundering through the park to the picnic sight.
