A Grave Calling

by Wendy Roberts

  He blinked in surprise. “That’s an awfully specific number.”

  My Jeep needed two new tires and Gramps’s birthday was next week. I’d saved most but not all I needed to get him a new recliner. The amount could’ve been higher but I tried not to profit too much off the dead. That didn’t feel like it would be a good karma thing to do.

  “Paid in cash and only half if I find nothing. My name stays out of the papers.”

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning,” he said, getting to his feet.

  “I work until noon and I’ll meet you there after I’m done,” I countered. “Just tell me where it’s at.”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Annoyance prickled inside me and I sputtered a raspberry through my lips, then grew embarrassed because it was a childish sound.

  He got to his feet. “I’ll pick you up at the gas station at twelve.”

  “Fine.”

  I gave a sharp nod, got to my feet and waited for him to do the same.

  He left then and the moment his car turned and kicked up gravel as it pulled away I called Gramps to tell him all was good.

  “You going to do work for him?” Gramps asked.

  “Gonna try,” I admitted.

  I hung up and went through my stack of newspapers to look up everything I could on the three missing girls. After I read all I could in print I started up my old, slow laptop and did a search online. I’d followed the case, just like everybody else in the state. Hoping beyond hope that they’d be found alive but knowing deep inside that wishing for rainbows wouldn’t stop a hurricane.

  Thinking about those girls possibly dead and most probably under brutal circumstances caused my head to pound and my blood to cool. I flicked on my small TV and one sitcom flowed into another without me giving them any attention. My mind drifted to the dark place I called quicksand thoughts because struggling often just dragged me deeper. Once my head was in the dark place it was hard to pry it loose.

  Somewhere around midnight I climbed into my bed and Wookie took to his. My head was still filled with vile thoughts but eventually I drifted off. Much later I heard the creak of the door open and the panting reception as my dog greeted someone he knew. Soon I heard the metal clink as a belt was unbuckled, followed by the unzip of blue jeans.

  “Thought you had to work tonight?” I yawned and stretched under the covers but slid over to allow him room. My head still swam with black thoughts that had morphed into a horrid dream. I was incredibly relieved and grateful for a moment’s distraction.

  “I do have to work but not for an hour.” Denny breathed heavily as he climbed into bed, his warm breath faintly tainted from the cigarillos he liked. “I just want a little something to tide me over.”

  He reached up my T-shirt and cupped a cool hand on my breast. Moaning softly, I threaded my fingers into his thick black hair and pulled his lips to mine. Denny was already hard and, even though I wasn’t ready, I urged him to quickly enter me. He could feel my need and was more than happy to meet it. My urgency had nothing to do with the soft yearning for love and was more about a desire to quell the stench of putrid thoughts. I was fast asleep before Denny let himself out a half hour later.

  * * *

  The droolly slurp of Wookie’s tongue across my face was my wake-up call at seven the next morning.

  “Ugh, you are so-o-o gross.”

  I tried pulling the blankets over my face but he wasn’t having any of that and began a tug-of-war with my comforter that ended with me naked on the sheets and him triumphantly dragging my bedding out of the room.

  “Jesus. Fine. I’m up. I’m up.”

  I padded naked to the door and threw it open to let him outside to pee. The whoosh of cool spring air rushed into the room and it smelled of frost in sharp contrast to the mid-seventies temperature of the evening before. I shivered and hurried to fill the dog dishes with food and water, then tossed my blanket back on the bed. As soon as Wookie was inside I hit the shower while he gobbled his food. Twenty minutes later we were both climbing in my Jeep and headed the short drive up the road to see Gramps. We arrived to find him tugging his three-hundred-pound all-terrain vehicle over to the side of the house. I jumped out of my Jeep and went over to help him. Wookie followed to supervise.

  “Jesus, you shouldn’t be moving this thing by yourself.”

  I grabbed the opposite end of the bumper and helped him haul it the last few feet but, honestly, he was doing fine on his own. Hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  “It’s not that heavy.”

  He dusted his hands on his pants and we headed inside the house. The weathered door creaked loudly as it swung open.

  He kicked off his shoes and I brushed a kiss across the deep folds of his weathered cheek. Wookie’s entire ass wiggled and waggled a hello and he received a scratch behind his ears.

  “Haven’t seen the ATV for a while. You going to get it working again?”

  “Figured out it’s the carburetor. Going to replace the pilot jet today. Just dragged it beside the house to make it easier to plug in my trouble light and see what’s what. Once I get her going, gonna cruise around the property and see what’s what.”

  Gramps was always walking around the dozen acres that were his own now and even beyond to the few dozen more that he’d sold over the years. It kept him fit and gave him something to do.

  “Thought you enjoyed walking the property with Wookie? Your knee acting up?”

  “Some,” he admitted, giving the bad knee a hard rub with his palm. “But the rest of me is still strong as an ox.”

  That was a fact. His joints might ache some but the man had thick, ropy muscles in his arms and back like some kind of bodybuilder.

  “You need me to get you more painkillers for your knee?”

  “Picked up a new prescription yesterday,” Gramps said. “I only take them when I need them.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Not for what you’re going to feed me,” Gramps grumped. “I’m craving sausages and bacon fried until they’re both golden and then potatoes stirred and browned in the drippings.”

  “And I can hear your arteries hardening at the idea.”

  I fixed his breakfast and put it in front of him.

  “Now that doesn’t even look like bacon.” He pointed to his plate and shook his head. “I know it’s trying real hard to pretend to be a pig but that piece of flesh has never oinked.”

  “It’s turkey bacon, Gramps, and it’s better than nothing.”

  “I doubt that.”

  For all his bluster he ate the turkey bacon as well as the two poached eggs, multigrain toast and the banana I put in front of him. It all went into his mouth, at least the part that he didn’t sneak under the table to Wookie.

  “If he gets the poops it had better be here and not at my place,” I warned. I glanced at my phone for the time. “Gotta run.”

  “Tell me more about your visitor last night. You said he was a cop?”

  “Fed.”

  He raised his thick snowy eyebrows at that. “You don’t say.”

  “He’s getting me after work so I’m going to be gone longer today.”

  “Huh. So it’s about them girls? The three?”

  I nodded.

  He pursed his lips together and frowned.

  “I don’t like you getting involved in that.” He held up his hand to ward off an argument. “You’re a big girl and you can handle yourself. I know. But I don’t have to like it. You should take my gun.”

  He had an old handgun in his bedroom. He was always saying I should get one of my own but I never felt the need.

  “No gun,” I replied.

  “What about one of those Tasers then? We’ll get you one of those. They’re easy to use.”

  “No. I
’ll be safe.” To Wookie I said, “Keep an eye on him.” I rubbed my dog’s thick head before I headed out the door.

  My vehicle bounced down the gravel ruts and onto the highway as I headed in to work. I rolled the windows down and breathed in the dank earth that was mildew and spring in the air and let it whip my hair until it was a tangled mass. It had rained long and hard most of the winter with some powerful sunny days of late, so everywhere you looked things were impossibly verdant and budding. My entire body itched for summer.

  When I arrived at the filling station there was a line of Canadians already at the pumps. The station was a quarter mile from the border and people crossed over early just to save a few dollars on gas or run up to Costco for groceries. Mostly the job was a no-brainer. We only kept what I liked to call the redneck necessities in stock: pop, beer, smokes and potato chips. The store portion of the gas station had very little to maintain. I liked the easy quiet routine of it. Once, though, we had someone drive off with the nozzle still in their tank and it had been a big hullaballoo.

  The FBI agent pulled up to the station fifteen minutes early and parked his fancy dark sedan alongside my rusty Jeep in the corner of the lot. It made me twitch when I thought about what lay ahead so I busied myself restocking the water bottles in the cooler. Suddenly a burst of femininity flew into the store. I had my back to the door but I smelled the oily bouquet of her cheap perfume and knew it was Katie before I even turned around.

  “Julie Hall, is that you?”

  She stood there, fists on her hips and a red-painted smile on her lips as bright as sunshine. I rushed at her and we grabbed each other in a giggly monster hug that was peppered with questions.

  “When’d you get back in town?” I demanded.

  “Just this morning.”

  “How long you staying?”

  “Who knows?” Katie reached up and pulled my hair. “You still fucking that Indian boy?”

  “Native American.” I frowned and punched her in the shoulder. “You know that. Yes, Denny and I are still together. You still with whoever the hell was your last screw?”

  “Of course not, Jules, that’s why I’m back in the armpit of America!”

  We laughed and hugged some more until she pulled back and pointed to the parking lot.

  “Look! Mom even put new tires on my ride while I was gone.”

  Katie’s metallic blue nineteen-seventy-two mustang was in the lot angle parked in two spaces.

  “Fan-frigg’n-tastic!” I gushed.

  We linked arms and giggled like it was high school all over again. Katie and I had been best friends forever and a day. Since my mom dropped me at my grandparents’ farm when I was six and said she’d be back in a week that turned into never. Katie’s feet were always on fire. When we were kids she’d spread her arms out wide and spin like a tornado until she was too dizzy to stand. Now she flew out of town for months at a time, blown by whatever cool breeze caught her attention. This last adventure was to travel with a band up to Vancouver, Canada. She was bad at keeping touch. No texts, emails or messages on Facebook but she always came back.

  “God, I’ve missed you, Jules Baby.” She smiled and tugged my hair.

  Her own bottle blond locks were in a fancy French braid and she was wearing expensive knee-high boots and a too-tight sweater on top. She stood there waving a finger at me as she looked me over.

  “Have you even had a single haircut since I’ve been gone?”

  My hand went to my chestnut hair knowing it was still mussed from the drive up with the windows open. I tucked a long wisp of bang behind my ear.

  “Of course not. I’ve been waiting on you.”

  She threw back her head and guffawed and snorted with unladylike laughter, and I joined in until we were breathless. We were just regaining our decorum from the giggles when Jonas arrived to replace me for my shift. He gave me a quick nod as a hello, pushed his glasses up his nose and gawked at Katie like he’d never seen anything as pretty before. Probably he hadn’t.

  “Well, first thing on the agenda is we go back to your place and crack open a bottle of wine while I cut your hair.”

  My smile faltered.

  “Are you still sober?” Her eyebrows went up when I nodded. “Good Lord, really? Huh. How about that.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Well then, more for me just as soon as you’re out of this hole.” She nodded at Jonas. “Which I’m guessing is right now.”

  “I can’t.” I groaned. “I’ve got something I’ve gotta do.” She caught my gaze as I glanced out the window.

  “What kind of something?” She winked at me. “Or is that a someone? That one?” She pointed to Agent Pierce’s black sedan. “You like them older and straitlaced now?” She leaned forward and poked a finger in my shoulder. “I hear that after forty it takes a lot more effort to get them to stand at attention.”

  I blushed.

  “It’s just...work.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Fine.” She pulled a phone out of her pocket and punched out a text to me. “This is my new number. Message me when you’re done with your accountant there. We’ve got a ton of catching up to do.”

  She flounced out as quickly as she waltzed in, grabbing a bottle of beer from the cooler on her way out but not stopping to pay for it. I dug a bill out of my pocket and handed it to Jonas. He took it wordlessly and pushed his glasses up his nose again. I could tell he could care less if Katie took a beer. After Jonas worked his shift the trash can was always overflowing with chocolate bar wrappers. He liked to help himself to the candy selection. No skin off his nose if he ripped off the owner and no skin off mine if he bent the rules a little. Overall, I liked Jonas because he was easygoing and the few times I’d run into him outside of work he seemed fun.

  When I stepped outside, a fat raindrop smacked my forehead and it was quickly followed by a dozen more. It might be upper sixties today but the rain felt like winter on my skin. I jogged across the lot, got my bag out of the trunk of my Jeep and tossed it into the back seat of the sedan. I climbed into the passenger seat just as the deluge hit.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  The rain came in torrents as he drove out of the lot and exited southbound onto the highway. Agent Pierce did not say a word as we traveled down the highway. Not a single syllable. About a half hour out I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “How far we going?” I asked.

  “La Conner.”

  His voice was clipped and he didn’t look at me when he spoke, just kept his eyes on the road and his lips in a firm line. The car was immaculately kept, and I wondered if this was a company vehicle. Didn’t seem like it could be his everyday car. Where were the fast-food wrappers and litter of coffee cups? If archeologists excavated the floor of my Jeep, they could track my every movement over the past couple years. Pierce’s car didn’t have so much as a gum wrapper or a wet ring in the cup holders. On the upper left corner of the windshield there was a red rectangular sticker with a bunch of numbers. FBI code for free parking? If we were headed to La Conner, we had another half hour to go. I put my headphones on and listened to a book on Audible as the wipers smacked angrily at the rain beating the windshield.

  It poured until we left the I-5 at exit 230 and then it spit and spat until finally it stopped. The clouds begrudgingly parted and allowed a few rays of sun in, and I stopped listening to the book being recited in my ears. My palms began to sweat and I had an ache in my stomach that reminded me I should’ve grabbed something to eat.

  For as far as I could see, the road was bordered by fields, some already bursting into color and others left dark and dormant. La Conner was a quaint town that attracted hundreds of thousands of people during the annual tulip festival. That gala would start next week and not a second too soon. The heads of thousands of tulips were poise
d to open and would remain so for only a couple weeks. Their petals were a flurry of garish color as if some would-be painter dumped boatloads of paint across acres and acres of dirt.

  Agent Pierce did not take one of the tidy little roads off toward the colorful flowered fields. Instead, he slowed and took a dirt road that had mud fields and deep ditches on either side. The car dipped and bounced in the deep ruts toward a dilapidated weathered barn at the end of the road. It looked as though a well-tossed pebble could easily keel the entire thing over and that was where he brought the car to a stop.

  “We’re here,” he announced briskly, turning the key in the ignition and kicking in the e-brake. He looked at me as if he didn’t know what else to say. Finally he added, “The, um, body is supposed to be buried somewhere there.”

  He waved to the right and my eyes scanned the acres of dark wet earth plowed in rows but left fallow.

  “Jesus,” I muttered under my breath.

  Second thoughts fled through my head but were replaced with empathy for the families wanting their girls home.

  “Body?” I repeated. “So not bodies? You’re thinking only one and not all three?”

  He opened his mouth and then shut it again and replaced whatever he was going to say with a shrug.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” I gave him a rueful shake of my head. “You’re fine to ask me questions and get me to work for you but you’re going to treat me like a mushroom.”

  “Mushroom?”

  “Keep me in the dark or feed me bullshit.”

  With a sigh I climbed out of the car. I stretched and cracked my neck as I looked out over the field. It was going to be a job and a half to stomp all over that oozy sludge. I opened the door to the back seat and unzipped my duffel bag. It was a good thing I had the forethought to pack my muck boots. They came mid-calf with ties on the inside so I could make them tight around my legs. I switched out my footwear as the agent stood there and watched. He shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, making me more nervous than I could stand. My guess was he had a lot riding on this, and everything about his posture said he did not believe it would end well. I wanted to reassure him. Give him a there-there-it’ll-all-be-okay pat on the back.