Stutter Creek

by Ann Swann

Rapping hard with her closed knuckles, she pushed the metal office door open and entered speaking: “Ms. Deevy, I can’t reach Sherylyn on the phone. This the second day she hadn’t showed up. I’ma go ahead and pull in Dewayne, that part-timer. He’s been wantin’ full time. I’m givin’ him Sherylyn’s shift.” She started out the door without waiting for approval.

  Candy Deevy nodded, barely raising her fingers from the keyboard. “Good decision. That’s what I pay you for,” she murmured.

  Then a brief memory flashed across her mind. The memory was of Sherylyn talking to a friend in the cashier’s meeting last week. She’d been going on and on about the possibility of moving closer to work so she wouldn’t have so far to drive. She had seemed pretty excited about an apartment that was opening up, even talked about the new apartment having a balcony, said she was looking forward to getting a grill with her employee discount. Doesn’t sound like someone who suddenly quits for no reason, Candy Deevy thought. The girl had plans.

  “Hey,” she called before the door closed.

  Shaniqua stuck her head back in, a question framing her features.

  “You got an emergency contact number?”

  “Tried it,” the cashier-manager said bluntly, pulling her head back through the door as if the matter was closed.

  “Try it again,” Ms. Deevy ordered. “In fact, send someone to her house. Better yet, you got her landlord’s number?”

  On the other side of the door, Shaniqua looked at her watch and rolled her eyes. Sherylyn’s shift started an hour ago. Her register was closed, lines were backing up, and customers were getting cranky. Taking a deep, calming breath, she cracked the door open again. “I don’t have landlord’s numbers. Think she lived in a duplex.”

  The night manager sat upright at her battered gunmetal gray desk, her fingers poised over the computer keyboard. “Find out if she’s got a friend that’ll check out her place. If not, keep trying the contact number. I’ve got a feeling she didn’t just not come to work. Might’ve been in a car wreck or something. Can’t be too careful, you know.”

  Shaniqua’s feet hurt. She wasn’t a small woman; and she still had seven hours to go on her own shift. “Yes, ma’am,” she sighed. “I’ll see what we can do.” Then she shuffled out into the hall shaking her head. She still had to get in touch with Dewayne, too. Hell, maybe I should have him go by Sherylyn’s house. Nah, him I need on the line, now.

  ***

  Kurt and Danny had finally found the cave. It was on the lower slope of Blue Mountain, the entrance almost completely hidden by brush.

  It’s cold at night in the mountains. In March and April, the weather is very unpredictable. Warm temperatures in the daytime can slide right down below freezing when the sun sets.

  Danny was cold all the time. Kurt let him lie near the door in the sunshine. “Soak up some rays,” he said jovially. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

  He didn’t have to worry about Danny calling out to anyone. There wasn’t anyone this high on the mountain. Besides, the boy was both sick and drugged. He didn’t know night from day. He barely even noticed when darkness fell. All he knew was that he was cold and thirsty.

  That night, Kurt wrapped him in the nylon tent and stowed him in the corner of the dank cave like a box of old clothes. He wasn’t ready to lose his bait. But Danny was already so ill he could barely raise his head.

  Kurt wanted to move on as soon as he’d dealt with the owner of the Camaro and his Stutter Creek victim. But he knew if his bait died, his plan would be much harder to complete. And without the plan, he was afraid he would implode. Besides, just like heroin, killing was addictive. He couldn’t wait for his next fix.

  He thought if he could get the kid some better food and some dry clothes, maybe the boy would last long enough for him to finish his list. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The first girls had been too much fun. But five was the magic number. Five girls for five years. The old broad would just be one-to-grow-on. He thought of putting that in the letter to the prosecutor. Definitely have to remember to put that in there, he thought, but first: have to get the kid some decent food and a source of warmth. Maybe the owner of the Camaro would share that toasty little cabin if he asked her just right.

  He grinned.

  He knew just how he would ask her.

  Kurt began making preparations right away. First, he gave Danny another dose of drugs to knock him out completely. He didn’t want him to panic in the night and come stumbling down the mountain so he tied his hands and feet together just in case he awoke. He thought briefly of the possibility of a bear or mountain lion coming into the cave and finding the boy trussed up like a Christmas goose, but he pushed that thought away immediately. What happens, happens, he thought. Some things were beyond human control. Hadn’t the prison psychologist told him that over and over again? Only worry about things you can change; don’t waste your energy on things beyond your control. Another idiot. The psycho-ologist seemed to think Kurt was some sort of misunderstood genius who had self-medicated with drugs because of his awful upbringing.

  He laughed every time he thought of how he’d buffaloed her. She wasn’t blonde like the prosecutor, but she was every bit as annoying.

  Besides, nothing was going to happen to Danny. They had Fate on their side. On the other hand, so what if it did? The kid was sick anyway. It would just hasten the inevitable. Maybe I’ll even steal another kid, little girl next time. Getting Danny certainly hadn’t been a problem.

  Kurt shrugged and started down the mountain to figure out the best way to get inside the cabin. He planned to be nearby when Beth went to sleep tonight. If he couldn’t get inside before she went to bed, he planned to be near enough that he could hear her snoring when she went under. Only this time, it would be a long sleep, one from which she would not awaken.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It wasn’t difficult to find someone willing to drive to Sherylyn’s house to check up on her. Apparently, she had been friendly, but not close, with several coworkers. When Shaniqua pointed out that she had not been to work in a couple of days, a few people offered to drive over and check on her.

  Two of them begged to go together just in case they found something so grisly they would have to hold each other up while they dialed 911 on one of their cell phones.

  Shaniqua began to wonder if they weren’t really hoping to find something awful so they would have something to tell in the break room tomorrow. Nonetheless, she let them take off work an hour early so they could check it out.

  “And don’t forget to call me when you find out what’s going on,” she reminded them sternly. “I don’t hear from you before I get off, I’ll dock you for that hour I let you go. Got it?”

  They got it.

  But it didn’t matter. Sherylyn’s car was not there, no lights were on, and no one was home on the other side of the duplex.

  “Ain’t she got no fam’ly?” Carol asked Kevin as they stood on the porch of the rundown little home.

  “Search me,” he replied. “I just came along so you wouldn’t have to identify her dead body all by yourself. You see anything in that window?”

  Carol bent over and peered through the dusty glass of the front window. “Nah, curtains are in the way. Can’t make out nothing. Let’s try the back.”

  The back door was locked up tight, and all the curtains were drawn on that side of the house, too.

  Walking back around the house, Kevin had an idea. “Hey, let’s see if she’s got mail piling up.”

  Carol shrugged. “Might tell us if she’s in town or out of town, I guess.”

  But there was no way to tell. Both sides of the duplex were equipped with mail slots beside their front doors. Kevin tried to see through it, but it was designed to prevent peepers, and it worked.

  In the end, no one found out what had become of Sherylyn. No one reported her missing because they assumed she had driven away in her own car.

  Shaniqua hired Dewayne who was thrilled to be able to
work one full time job with benefits instead of two part-time jobs without.

  Ms. Deevy never thought about her again. After all, she had all those other night people to manage. Later, she would have a few qualms of guilt over how easily the unfortunate girl had slipped everyone’s mind.

  ***

  Beth was famished by the time she got back to the cabin. She had really intended to order a sandwich to go with her drink at the drugstore; however, the news of the missing girl and the ensuing gossip had made her completely forget her hunger, until now.

  She pulled into the circle drive and shut off the engine. In the back of her mind, she wondered if her dad had gone on. She glanced down at her cell phone. Did I really communicate with him? Now, after a bit of time had passed, it seemed ludicrous. Still, she vowed to try again inside the cabin. For some reason, texting with the dead seemed easier in secret—or at least out of the public eye. She laughed self-consciously. There was no one around for miles. Shivering as much from nerves as from the chill, Beth felt very exposed standing beside the car in the driveway. Cocking her head slightly, she listened for any noise that might herald the arrival of the giant dog.

  The only sounds she heard were bird related, and the incessant breeze high up in the tall pines.

  She gave up on seeing the dog again, and went on inside the cabin where she immediately lit a fire. A smoky scent invaded the room before she had the fire going.

  “Dad, you still here?”

  Colored lights immediately darted around her face. They lasted only a few seconds, and then the phone beeped.

  STILL HERE. YOU OK?

  “Sure.” She opened the fridge for sliced cheese and whipped butter. “I’m fine.” She retrieved the cast iron skillet from the drawer beneath the stove. “Just got back from the drugstore—”

  MARTHA AND JOE OK?

  Beth set the skillet on the stove and buttered two slices of bread. One slice went butter side down in the skillet with a slice of pepper jack cheese on top, and then the second slice of bread closed it up. In a few minutes she would flip the sandwich over so both sides were evenly toasted and the cheese gooey and melted. This was more of her comfort food.

  “Martha’s doing great, Joe’s having health problems. He wasn’t even there. They’ve got his niece—”

  ALLIE.

  “That’s right! I can’t believe you remember her name.”

  JUST A LITTLE THING LAST TIME I SAW HER.

  “Well, she is a beautiful young woman, now.” She thought briefly about the poster of the missing girl who looked so much like Allie; but then she decided he didn’t need to know about that. Even as she was doing it, Beth couldn’t believe she was trying to protect her father’s spirit from worrying about her. She guessed some things never changed. For her father to worry, that had always been a no-no to her.

  “Dad—”

  BETH—

  They both began to speak/write at the same time.

  YOU FIRST, he wrote.

  “I just wish you were here to eat a toasty cheese sandwich with me.”

  SIGHING. ME TOO. BUT NO ONE GOES BACK. EVERYONE MOVES FORWARD. SOME FASTER THAN OTHERS. WINK WINK.

  “Oh, Dad. You’re still crazy—”

  AFTER ALL THESE YEARS.

  “Did I tell you I love you?” she asked.

  MANY TIMES. NOW, WHEN ARE YOU HEADING BACK? IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU GOT ON WITH YOUR LIFE. TAKING CARE OF ABBY AND MY UPCOMING GREAT-GRANDKIDS.

  Beth stopped in mid-chew. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  JUST HOPEFUL, he replied. WILL YOU TELL THEM ALL ABOUT ME? PLEASE?

  Setting aside her sandwich, Beth said, “Dad, even if you are a figment of my imagination, surely you know how I will regale them with tales of their great-grandfather.” She could not continue, her voice was stuck in her throat, and it wasn’t because of the sandwich.

  SORRY, BABY. THAT WAS STUPID OF ME. I NEVER WANT TO MAKE YOU CRY. I KEEP FORGETTING YOU ARE STILL THERE—IT IS SO DIFFERENT NOW. NO SADNESS. NO HEARTACHE.

  “Can’t you tell me more?” she asked softly, tears thickening her voice.

  NOT WITH WORDS, he said. THERE SIMPLY AREN’T ANY WORDS TO DESCRIBE IT. MAYBE BECAUSE IF THERE WERE, EVRYONE WOULD COME TOO EARLY.

  “You mean earth would be empty?”

  VERY POSSIBLY.

  Beth thought he was being serious; but it was way too big to wrap her head around. It reminded her of the time a professor had told their class about the theory of the universe expanding like a rubber band, and that someday it would reach its limit and snap back. Without thinking Beth had blurted, “Would that make time move backward?” He must have sensed that she was not being facetious—even though, later, she felt kind of silly for blurting out such a juvenile question—for he replied, kindly, “Could be, who knows?”

  She swallowed another bite of her sandwich. “How long before you move on?”

  TOMORROW, SUNRISE. I THINK YOU’RE STRONG ENOUGH.

  She felt flattened, as if she had just became a cardboard cut-out of herself. But I’ll be strong, for Dad, she thought. He said I wouldn’t mind him leaving this time because he would be going to find Mom. That’s what I’ll focus on.

  “Will you come and say goodbye before you go?”

  CALL MY NAME WHEN YOU WAKE UP. I’LL BE WAITING.

  “Love you,” she whispered.

  The tiny Christmassy lights sparkled around her face, and were gone.

  ***

  Kurt couldn’t believe his ears. Would she never shut up and get off the phone? She had been chatting for twenty minutes, yet he couldn’t see the phone. She appeared to be just carrying it around and looking at it. She wasn’t texting; she was talking out loud. Must have it on speaker, or maybe she was wearing one of those headsets or something. He watched carefully for a few more minutes. It was easy to track her movements as she moved around in the small cabin.

  After a few bites of the sandwich, he’d seen her move slowly from kitchen to living area, straightening and turning off lights as she went. He even saw her bank the fire and check the front door; probably to see if it was locked, Kurt thought. Next would be the bedroom. When that light goes out, that’s when I’ll make my move. She’ll never know what hit her.

  He didn’t notice the tiny darting lights that flickered briefly in the darkened cabin. Nor did he notice when those same lights melted into the gloom of the forest. Kurt was too focused on his prize to notice much of anything. He was tired of sleeping cold. Even prison hadn’t been this cold and damp. Tonight, I’ll be warm and toasty, just like that fragrant sandwich. Warm and toasty.

  Inside the cabin, Beth brushed her teeth. She felt very tired, like she might actually sleep. Last night hadn’t been too bad, once she had finally fallen asleep, that is. Tonight, she planned to look over some of the novel-notes she’d written over the years. Maybe she would even add a few words to them. She’d forgotten how quickly night fell in the mountains. The days seemed so short.

  If she had trouble concentrating on her writing, she could always read some more of those gossip magazines. She might even start on the paperback novel she had brought. It was a John Grisham. She had pointedly avoided bringing anything scary or romantic. Those two genres were off limits for a while—maybe forever.

  Outside the cabin, Kurt eased onto the porch and sat with his back against the rail. His knees were cold and aching from kneeling on the hummock across from the picture window. All at once he became aware of a low growling coming from the woods behind the cabin. He had a moment to realize how strange it was that he could hear the growl before he could hear or see any movement.

  Slowly he worked his way to a standing position without making a sound. Very carefully, he peered around the corner of the cabin. In the darkness, he could make out the black shape of some large animal that appeared to be creeping toward him.

  “Down!” a deep voice commanded in a whisper.

  The animal sank immediately to the ground.

  The low
growl continued.

  Kurt stepped off the front of the porch and began to work his way back toward the cave. Keeping to the deep shadows cast by the cabin’s overhang, he didn’t think the man could see him; and the dog, if indeed that’s what the humongous creature was, could probably only smell him.

  As much as he hated to be even colder, Kurt decided he would take a circular path back to the cave, walking at least part of the way in the creek to cover his tracks. He’d picked that up from an old western, too.

  John strained to see what Turk was growling about. Not an animal. He’d been trained not to alert at animal scents. Had to be a person. Can’t let him take down just anyone in the National Forest, John thought. Could be a camper, a hiker, or even a Forest Ranger. He knelt beside Turk and scanned the area with his field glasses.

  He saw nothing. Together, man and dog stood and made their way down to the little cabin. In the darkness, John could not see the footprints. But he knew something wasn’t right. Turk wouldn’t alert at a person inside a cabin. And if there was someone outside, why were they hiding? No one should be skulking around the forest in the darkness. We’ll get to the bottom of this tomorrow, he thought. No need to scare the cabin’s new owners this late in the evening.

  On the way back to his own place, John swatted at the swarm of fireflies still flickering around his face. They’d been with him now, off and on, since the moment he’d started hiking back toward his own cabin after locating Turk. The dog had taken to disappearing about sunset each night. John didn’t know what was causing the strange behavior, but he assumed it was simply the abundance of wildlife in the area.

  The mutt was stuck to his heel, now, though. Which is what he was trained to do. But both times John had been forced to go out and find him; Turk had been near the Brannock’s old cabin.

  Tramping along, he let his mind wander back to the summer he’d spent with Beth and Tom Brannock, but those memories were too painful. He pushed them away and continued up the mountain toward his own home.