12
"And here we are," Cheryl said, pulling over into a slanted parking slot in front of a large wooden building that had giant columns emphasizing its grandness. "If Crystal Creek could claim an area as its 'magnificent mile,' this would be it, though it's only really two blocks."
Brian looked around, noting that this area of the downtown did have a more upper crust feel to it. However, whatever exclusivity it had once carried was long gone, and while none of the storefronts on this side had been boarded up, they still carried the feel of having been abandoned. Those that weren't lacked a luster that had once been present, one that Brian could sense hovering just beneath the surface. If the town ever got a jump start, this street would be the first to suck up the juice, the luster quickly coming back. Until then…
"I don't see the chief's vehicle," Cheryl said, interrupting his thoughts. "It's usually right there."
Brian looked to where she was pointing and saw a spot with a sign that read Chief Parker, which had been attached to an old parking meter. "Do these spots ever fill up to the point where he has to have a spot saved like that?" he asked.
"Um…you know, I don't think so." She made a humph sound. "I never thought about that before." She waited a few seconds, then said, "Come on, let's see if we can look at the phone."
With that, they went inside, Cheryl ignoring the meter that she was parked at.
13
Alice stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, and then, bundled up in a bathrobe, went down into Brian's basement office where she sat in his desk chair, time slipping by as she considered what Jared had said about how her husband would rather collect stories for his website than spend time in bed with her.
This trip was last-minute though, she noted, but then wondered if that really mattered. Even when he wasn't racing off to a town in search of paranormal evidence, he would be down in his office working on the new site, basement door shut, wife forgotten.
When was the last time we had sex?
When was the last time we held each other and simply were affectionate?
No answer arrived to either question.
He never makes any moves toward intimacy.
Neither do you.
And after last night…
Horror, frustration, and anger all mixed together as the memory of what may have unfolded the night before played out within her mind once again.
If he hadn’t decided to take the late shift…
If you had closed the computer…
If! If! If!
She forced the issue of blame from her mind, the knowledge that they were both at fault for whatever had happened to their marriage undeniable. Equally undeniable was the fact that she was seeing another man while married and had stupidly left her computer open and logged into her email while curling up on the couch.
An email from Jared!
One that he had sent two months earlier talking about how he couldn't wait to see her again after their first illicit encounter and was amazed at the enthusiasm she had shown while in bed with him.
All because she had been trying to figure out a way to tell him that they could not see each other anymore, the indecision over what to say causing her to read all the emails they had exchanged over and over again, between bouts of pacing back and forth while thinking.
Eventually, pacing led to sitting down in front of the TV, which then led to her getting sucked into a movie on Netflix, during which she zonked out, eyes opening later, confusion present, a sudden realization that it was two in the morning hitting hard.
Brian had arrived home and gone to bed by then, the actions he had taken while in the house a mystery to her since she had slept through them. One thing she knew: her laptop was sitting on the kitchen table, the screen saver not requiring a password, the likelihood that he would have taken a curious glance at the screen while in the kitchen strong.
And then he wouldn't talk to you this morning.
She had taken him to the airport as planned, the journey east on I-90 horrible due to the mind-numbing rush-hour traffic and his refusal to say more than a few words to her, something that pretty much confirmed that he had seen the email sitting on her laptop. The worst part was when she got out to hug him goodbye and wish him a safe trip, his one-handed return hug barely putting any pressure on her, and his “yeah” reply to her “I love you” statement feeling like a blow.
Driving home, her emotions had gotten the better of her, forcing her to pull over at what had once been the Des Plaines Oasis before the construction had started, the tears making it impossible to drive. Several texts to Brian had followed, all of them going unanswered. Within those texts, she had not asked about what he may have seen the night before, but figured he probably knew why she was texting so much, and because of this, she took his refusal to reply as a sign that things were over. His failure to call once he arrived, something that he had never failed to do in the past, only added to her certainty. It was over.
14
"Jeanne," Cheryl said, frustration starting to show. "I'm the one that gave him the cell phone. I could have easily kept it to myself and never told him about it."
Jeanne, who was standing behind a desk in the law-enforcement area of the municipal building, crossed her arms and shook her head. "Doesn't work that way. If you found a bloody knife at a crime scene, do you think you could just come back and ask to use it because you needed to chop some onions for dinner?"
Cheryl's face scrunched up in disbelief and then relaxed. "What crime scene? Parker never found anything other than a car and an empty cabin, and the phone doesn't have anything on it that pointed anywhere."
"Doesn't matter," Jeanne said. "It's evidence in a missing person case and in his custody until he deems the case closed, which means we have to follow protocol."
"What protocol?"
"The no press protocol."
Cheryl stared.
"Now, I know you don't really fall into that category, but—"
"Fuck you," Cheryl said. "I'm more a reporter than you're a police officer."
"I think it's time you two leave."
"Where's Chief Parker?" Cheryl demanded. "I want to speak with him."
"He's not available."
"He's at an interview with another department, isn't he?" Cheryl said. "While on city time, which is paid for with my taxes."
"You need to make money to pay taxes, which you don't. And even if you did, he's not on city time right now. I'm on watch while he's off. And if you don't leave right now, I'm well within my jurisdiction to charge you with disturbing the peace."
Brian couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at what was unfolding, the only downside to it being that he really wanted to see the phone. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen during this visit, not unless the chief walked in, which looked unlikely. And the last thing he wanted was for Cheryl to be arrested. Such action seemed ridiculous, but that didn't mean it wouldn't happen. Arguments like this carried a juvenile feel that brought back memories of high school, and just like during high school, could easily escalate.
"Arrest me, then," Cheryl said, sticking her wrists out. "Make it so the chief has to file a whole bunch of paperwork with the county so that they can accept a prisoner. Go on."
"Let's go," Brian said, the look he saw on Jeanne's face telling him that she was going to go through with it, paperwork be damned. "Seeing the phone isn't a big deal."
At first, Cheryl resisted his suggestion, but then, once he tugged on her arm, she relented and said, "We'll be back once the chief is back."
A look of relief appeared on Jeanne's face, one that betrayed the confidence and authority that she had tried to project. Going through with the arrest would have been a mistake, yet one she would have willingly continued with just because she wanted to best Cheryl. The two obviously had history, which Brian wanted to avoid being entangled in if possible.
"She is such a bitch!" Cheryl snapped once they were back outside.
"Yeah, I can call him at home—if he's there." She sighed. "Until then…" She simply threw up her arms. "God, I hate her." She pulled out her cigarettes and lit one before climbing back into the SUV. "You mind if I smoke?"
"No, go ahead." He couldn't stand smoking or being around people who smoked, but it was her body and her vehicle.
She started the SUV, cigarette dangling between her lips, and then started backing up out of the spot.
Brian watched her do this and then asked, "So, you have absolutely no idea who it was that brought you that phone?"
"Not a clue," she said, fingers taking the cigarette from her mouth so she could knock ashes out the window.
"And there was nothing on the box that would give a clue, no markings or anything?"
"No, it was just a box."
Something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
A few minutes later, Cheryl pulled up alongside his rental car in front of her office, a question on what he was planning next leaving her lips.
"I have no idea," he admitted.
"I wish I could have been more helpful," she said.
"What can you do?" he said. "Let me know if you think of anything, or if anything comes up."
"Are you planning on sticking around?"
"Yeah. I have nothing else to do, and the cost of switching flights wouldn't be worth it. Who knows, maybe something will pop up while I'm here that will make the entire thing worth it. Plus, I'd love to go up the mountain and see the area where everything unfolded, get a feel for things."
Cheryl looked as if she was going to say something.
He waited.
"Well, if you need anything, you have my number."
"Thanks." Brian had a feeling this wasn't what she originally intended, but he didn't press and got out of the SUV.
Cheryl did the same, making a statement on how she needed to get Pumpkin and lock up.
Brian watched for a moment as she headed to the alleyway, and then, once she rounded the corner, walked over to his rental vehicle.
Now what? he asked himself.
As if in reply, his stomach growled.
He needed to eat. Before doing that, however, he decided to head back to the motel so he could see if Annie Morgan had finally arrived, his thinking being they could go get dinner together if she was hungry and then discuss what Cheryl had told him.
The parking lot was empty.
Brian headed into the office.
"No, sorry, not yet," the girl behind the counter informed him.
"And you're absolutely positive that I can't make a call with the phone? I'll pay back whatever the charges are."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I really can't let you do that."
"Okay," he said, nodding. "Well then, can you recommend a place for me to have dinner before I call it a night?"
"The only place in town would be Sally's Skillet, which is okay if you're in a hurry to eat. If not, then I'd suggest heading over to Clearwater. They have a dozen places to choose from, everything from local family-run diners to national establishments like Cracker Barrel and Applebee’s."
"How far is Clearwater from here?"
"Just under an hour, maybe like fifty minutes."
"Okay." After all the driving he had already done that day, there was no way he was going to add another two hours to his time on the road. "Do me a favor, if Annie does show up, can you tell her I’m over at Sally's Skillet and that she can either meet me there if she wants or can wait for me to come back?"
"I can, though are you sure she is coming? It's getting late and she hasn't called or anything, and like I said earlier, there's no reservation for her."
He gave a shrug and said, "She told me she was."
The girl gave him a sad smile, one that made him wonder if she thought this was some sort of weekend hookup that was going to go unfulfilled.
15
Sally's Skillet wasn't the worst place Brian had ever eaten at while on the road, but it wasn't very good either, the food serving to simply satisfy his hunger, which was all he really wanted from his meal that night anyway.
Check paid, he headed back to the motel.
The parking lot was still empty.
He considered going into the front office once again to see if Annie had shown up, his thinking being that they might have crossed paths as she headed to Sally's Skillet while he headed back, but then he thought better of it and decided to simply call it a night.
Saturday
"Mr. Goldman?" the voice called, followed by several more thumps upon the door. "Mr. Goldman, you have a phone call!"
"Okay, just a second," Brian called, his eyes still struggling to stay open, the typical confusion and disorientation that greeted him upon waking in a strange motel room more intense this time around given the pounding that had echoed from the door.
Less than thirty seconds later, he was opening that door, body clad in running pants and a T-shirt.
The teen who had checked him in the day before was standing in the doorway, finger twirling a strand of hair.
"Who's calling?" Brian asked. "Is it Annie?"
"No, Cheryl Gaffney, newspaper lady. And she says it's urgent."
2
"Cheryl?" Brian asked. "What is it?"
The teen took a seat across the counter, legs crossed, watching him.
"Sorry to call so early, but I found out who brought me the phone."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Who was it?"
"An old-timer named Marlon Gibbs."
"Marlon Gibbs?"
"Yeah. Quiet guy, keeps to himself. He has lived up the mountain for like…I don't know, forever. He was up there when I was a kid."
"How'd you figure out it was him?"
"I'll explain on our way up there. It's about an hour drive. That's why I called. Wanted to find out if you were up for that."
"Oh, okay, yeah."
"Great, be over there in ten minutes."
"Sounds good."
The call ended.
"You're going up to see Marlon Gibbs?" the teen asked, once again twirling her hair.
"Looks that way. You know him?"
"Everyone knows him, well, of him."
"Yeah, what's he like?"
She twirled more hair. "Old and creepy. I wouldn't want to run into him while alone up there, that's for sure. No telling what he would do to a lone female of breeding age."
"Really?" Brian asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
"I don't know, he's like a guy living all alone, even during the winter. No wife, no girlfriend. Used to be a doctor or something for the logging company, but now…" She released her hair, shrugged and crossed her arms. "One of my friends actually peeked into his window once and saw hundreds of Playboy and Penthouse magazines scattered about. And all the animals he catches, he butchers them right outside his house so they're all hanging there drying. It's morbid." She shivered. "No thanks."
Brian considered this, wondering if this was all just high school gossip or if there was truth to what she was saying. He also wondered if he could ask again about using the phone for long distance, this time to call Alice, guilt over how long he had gone without contacting her starting to appear.
Fuck it.
Chances were Alice hadn't even realized he hadn't called yet. She and Jared were probably curled up in bed still, his arms around her, bodies tight, their exhaustion after having spent the night fucking to the point where they would sleep until noon.
3
Alice didn't sleep well, her mind unable to keep the thoughts of her ruined marriage at bay, her eyes opening several times to check her phone, fear that she had slept through the ring as he called getting the better of her. No calls had arrived, however, a fact that only added to her horror of having ruined the marriage.
This horror, coupled wi
th a thirty-minute crying span that was ignited when she sat down with their wedding album, caused her to open her computer and check the airlines, a question on whether or not she should fly out to Seattle and then drive up to Crystal Creek appearing out of nowhere.
Nothing was available until six that evening.
Four-hour flight followed by a three- to four-hour drive into the mountains, she said to herself, contemplating how daunting such a journey would be.
The price was a bit unsettling as well.
More than a bit, actually, and something they couldn't really afford, not when added to the expense of Brian flying out, renting a car, staying in a motel, eating food, and coming back.
Worth it if it saves your marriage.
But would it really save anything?
What if she got all the way out there, exhausted from the long last-minute journey, only to find him pissed off that she had taken such a step?
What if it makes things worse?
What if you find him in bed with that college bimbo?
Her gut twisted, the sheer thought of Brian having an affair almost too much to bear.
And he knows you have been having one.
The thought sent her to the bathroom, and while no vomit arrived, the heaves were enough to weaken her knees and force her to the floor, body curled in the fetal position for nearly ten minutes.
Nothing but the thought of the horror he was experiencing at the knowledge of what she had done was present.
He didn't react to it.
No screaming at her, no sounds of him retching in the bathroom, nothing but his silence as they drove to the airport so he could board his flight.
How could he simply get up and go after something like that?
How could he leave?
The thought pulled her up from the bathroom floor and led her back to her computer, which was still showing the flight she was contemplating.
Rather than purchase the ticket, she exited out from the airline screen and went to his author page, deciding to check the blog portion to see if he had added anything to it while away.
Crystal Creek Page 3
