by Jeff Vrolyks
“Kevin, you take cream-no-sugar, right?”
“Yeah. Put like three teaspoons of creamer in there. Don’t use the same spoon as the one that touched the sugar. I can’t stand having the taste of sugar—”
“Shhh!” Holly interrupted. As I wondered why she shushed me, I heard her talking on the phone that never rang. “Lake Berryessa? Where’s that?” she asked the caller.
“I know where that is,” I said from the couch. She was silent for a long moment. I wondered if she was still on the phone, but then she said a few words and hung up. She brought the two cups of coffee out from the kitchen. Before I could ask what the call was about, I heard Mike and Ali coming up the stairs. I preemptively opened the door and let them inside. I don’t know why I was expecting friendly greetings and smiles from them; I guess I’ve grown accustomed to Mike being in a fantastic mood, and Alison was much the same. They didn’t look me in the eyes as they walked past me. They gave us a half-hearted hello and sat down on the love chair. I wondered what bad news they had for us, but they had none. None new, anyway. They were anguished and exhausted. Holly’s countenance was mingled agitation and despair. Nawien was solely unaffected by the gloomy aura pervading the living room. I wondered if there was reason for Nawie’s perceived optimism, or at least indifference. There was good reason to believe she knew more than us, and if she wasn’t dour maybe it was a good omen.
Holly related to us the directive from Kloss for disposing of Keith and Bertha. We were to drive to Lake Berryessa, which was a twenty minute drive from my apartment, and pull behind Calico Gas Station off of the main road, Kern, that looped around the lake. From there we were to carry the bodies directly away the gas station through a tract of undeveloped land, where we would find the place he had described to her. Since it would be dark out, and there are little-to-no artificial lights in the area, it would be a safe excursion.
Alison said that she and Mike confronted Kloss before leaving the house. It was a horribly ill-timed moment to inform him that they would begin dating, but they figured it was best to let it out while he had bigger things on his mind. He didn’t comment, just nodded and went about his business. Kloss had told her that Holly needed to live elsewhere, and Alison agreed. Even though Kloss insisted that Alison continue living there, she thought it would be inappropriate because of his feelings toward her. More than that, she wanted to be with Holly to see her through this. As Seraphy promised me, on that surreal night in Sue Ellen’s RV, things would get worse before they got better. We would all need to work together if we were to get through this.
My offer for Holly to live with me was extended to Alison, though we all knew that three people living in a one-bedroom apartment was ridiculous. Mike was hesitant to offer his two bedroom rented house for fear of moving too fast and thus jeopardizing his relationship with Ali. He offered anyway: she declined.
Holly decided she wouldn’t be living with me after all. Kloss insisted she rent a room or apartment or house anywhere that she didn’t have to show her ID to stay. She was to tell nobody outside of our circle where she would be living. We agreed that a nearby hotel would be suitable for now. They could register using a fake name and leave a cash deposit. Cash would come easy if Holly could withdraw money from an ATM or the bank, but that was unacceptable: banking transactions could be traced. Alison was to follow the same rules as Holly since they would be living together. Their inability to bank wasn’t going to be an issue: Kloss gave Alison a backpack stuffed with cash to be given to Holly. There was enough cash to bribe their way into oblivion (which had to be factored in considering they would be living with a pet wolf).
Alison explained why Kloss was giving her nearly fifty-thousand dollars from his bedroom safe. She said the money was to be given to Holly for security reasons. To install an alarm system at my apartment, to buy guns, and to hire security. Alison recalled how Kloss assumed Holly would be living with me, which contradicted what he had just told Holly only moments ago. Kloss emphasized that she can not live at or even visit my residence. We chalked it up to Kloss changing his mind somewhere between the time Alison left his house and when Holly spoke to him on the phone just minutes ago.
Kloss must have had a productive hour, because he had told Alison that we should use our own judgment on how and where to dispose the bodies, mentioning nothing of Lake Berryessa. He relayed through Alison that Holly and I could keep the BMW so she wouldn’t need to come back for her Four Runner. Less than an hour later he told Holly to drive a car that was without ties to any of them. “Buy a beater from someone in the classifieds,” he suggested only moments ago. “No ties or paper trail whatsoever. Behave as if you’re a fugitive, because in many ways you are.” Kloss had told Holly that I could use the BMW until my car was finished. It didn’t compute in her when he first told her, but during our discussion it resurfaced.
“Until your car is finished?” Holly said. “Your car—well, it’s not even a car—your truck is finished. It’s totaled, isn’t it?”
“It’s totaled,” I agreed.
“Why would he say until your car is finished?”
I retraced my conversations with Kloss. I didn’t recall telling him about my Mustang. “He must be referring to my car that is in the shop. I wanted it to be a surprise and it won’t be ready to pick up for a few days.”
“Oh really? What car did you buy?”
“I’d rather show you when it’s ready, if you don’t mind.” Holly agreed to wait.
Mike stared vacantly at the wall. “Mike, did you tell Kloss about my car?” Mike uttered a hollow no. “Kloss must have some crazy connections to know something like that.”
“I guess we should be going to Lake Berryessa,” Holly decided and stood. “I need to stop by the store and get some things. If there’s a Walmart on the way, I’d like to buy a couple pairs of pants, panties, shirts.... geez, this will be my second new wardrobe in a week.”
“No need, hun,” Ali said. “I packed a suitcase of your stuff. It’s in the trunk of my Cobra.”
“You rock, Ali.”
Alison removed a pink collar from her purse and tossed it to Holly. “Brought you a souvenir from Sacramento. Maybe your new wolf will like it. What was her name?”
“Nawien. Kevin came up with it. Where did you get this? Wasn’t it on Peaches?”
“Yeah, I guess. Nobody knows where the hell Jack and Peaches went. Went,” she scoffed, “as if they got up and walked away. But they aren’t in the garage. The garage door was unlocked, despite Kloss adamantly assuring me he had locked it. The collar was under the blankets where the wolves had been.”
“Did you clean it? It looks brand new.”
“There wasn’t a drop of blood on it. Who knows. Nothing makes sense.”
Holly unbuckled the collar and put it around Nawien and fastened it. “Nawien?” Nawien perked up at Holly. “Do you know what happened to Jack and Peaches?” Nawien looked away from Holly. “Nawie?” Nawie laid her head on the floor, lowered her ears and closed her eyes. “Nawien? Do you know what happened to your friends? Can you let us know where they went?” Nawien wheezed rhythmically.
“She’s pretending to be asleep,” Ali said.
“Fine, you don’t have to tell us,” Holly said. “Is that what you want to hear?” One of Nawie’s eyelids peeked open, and her snore stopped. “We just wanted to bury them because we love them so much. And since we can’t find them, we’re sad. Do you understand that, Nawien?” Her other eye opened and she chuffed. “You do know where their bodies are, though. Right?” Nawie nodded hesitantly. “Nawie, you have to tell me this one thing, and I swear I’ll stop bugging you about this. Are they alive? Did they come back to life or something?” Nawien whimpered and shook her head. “I didn’t think so. I can dream, can’t I?” Nawien nodded. Holly leaned forward to look at the wolf’s face: Nawie looked away. Holly bit her lip and leaned back. Nawie resumed her forward position, a more comfortable position. Holly waited a moment before she leaned forward again: Nawie looked aw
ay, again. I shrugged at Holly.
“What’s the matter, Nawie?” Holly asked, and left the couch to sit on the floor beside Nawie, looked into her yellow sorrowful eyes. “Poor girl.” Nawie sighed wistfully through her snout and laid her head back down. Holly hugged her.
It touched me to witness this interaction. I was surprised when I began tearing up. I suppose it was culminating from everything that had been happening lately, and all it took was one little gesture from the girl I love to uncork my emotions. The three of us sat quietly and watched Holly and Nawien.
My life was changing so rapidly. A week ago I wouldn’t recognize this new life I live.
Chapter 48
At a quarter till nine P.M. we parked behind Calico Gas. A sign in the window read closed at eight. No other businesses or houses were within sight. We all agreed that it seemed like a fair location for the deed. It was just the four of us, with Nawie left behind at my apartment. Had we brought her with us, being pulled over would give the cops a reason to search the trunk. Paranoid?—Yes. I’ve earned the right to be paranoid and Holly was the only objector to leaving Nawie behind.
The girls shone flashlights while Mike and I carried Keith by the wrists and ankles. I felt like Robert Deniro, and Keith was the first of two dirty rats whom we just whacked. Our destination was a ten minute hike from the car, slightly uphill through a field of Timothy grass, leather oak trees and brambles. Had I not been sufficiently grateful for my arm being miraculously healed before, I was now. Walking backwards uphill was arduous, although I was upwind from the body and grateful that I didn’t have to smell the disgusting thing.
Holly announced from ahead that she found the spot. Before I saw it, I had been wondering what landmark would be so readily identifiable in this dark rustic terrain. She wasn’t knowledgeable of the landmark, but was assured she would know it when she saw it. Within a grove of oaks stood a formation of large granite slabs. The oblong rocks were six to eight feet in length and looked entirely out of place. Stacked like pick-up-sticks, there were gaps between their granite planes that were wide enough to stuff a couple of stiffs inside. After we placed Keith inside, we circled around the formation to be make sure the bodies wouldn’t be noticeable to a hiker. They wouldn’t be. Unless someone was looking for them. It was an impeccable tomb to bury our two problems in. I was impressed, as were the others, with Kloss for knowing such a place existed. But I secretly had my doubts whether Kloss did know of such a place; the phone hadn’t rang when Holly answered it, leaving me to wonder if it was he who Holly was talking to.
Stuffing Bertha in the narrow gap wasn’t as easy. Although she only out-weighed Keith by ten or twenty pounds, she found a way to stuff all that weight in a foot less of height. With a hearty push of her legs, we squeezed her inside the make-shift tomb. I immediately yearned for soap. Holly brought a pack of wet naps from the glove box; half a pack later, I was satisfied until I could get home to shower.
The drive back was much more relaxing without a prison sentence reposed in the trunk. We found a roach motel on the outskirts of Vacaville that we agreed would be suitable and the most likely place to successfully harbor a wolf, as well as not needing ID to check in. We paid for a week up front and when asked for a credit card for a deposit, we slipped him five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. We requested a room on the bottom floor, preferably on the motel’s backside and at the end. Having seen our expensive car and willingness to hand over hundred-dollar-bills, he played the ‘none of those rooms are available’ card and awaited our reaction. Another hundred-dollar-bill made the room vacant and he assured us that we would be left alone for the week. Having a hearty appetite for more hundreds, he reminisced about an eccentric customer who wanted to leave his adjacent room vacant during his stay, and they were able to accommodate him no questions asked for a modest fee. Another crisp bill later, the girls each had a key and we headed back to my place for Ali’s Mustang and the critter that I had not named Nawien.
I idled down my apartment complex driveway and stopped short of the parking lot facilitating my assigned spot. There was a patrol car parked in the handicap spot near my apartment. At the risk of drawing attention, I decided to keep driving to the succeeding parking lot and pulled into a guest parking space. We were all in agreement. It’s not that we didn’t trust the police, it’s that we didn’t trust anyone, especially someone who carries a gun. It was time to make a change of plans.
Holly and Alison stealthily approached the Mustang that was parked a dozen spaces from the cop car. Mike and I returned to my assigned parking spot, two spaces from the squad car. Alison quickly backed out and drove off with Holly. The motel was only a couple miles away, and I wouldn’t mind driving Nawie over later.
Mike and I got out of the BMW and at the bottom of the stairs we stopped, stared up at the cop leaning against my door, one leg crossed coolly behind the other. He grinned at me as I grudgingly ascended the stairs. “Can I help you, sir?” I said.
“Kevin Reed?”
My mouth went dry. “Yeah. What’s the matter?”
“You look awful nervous, son. Something on your mind?” He pushed off my door and crossed his arms, which tightened the uniform over his broad shoulders. An intimidating man.
“Cops make me nervous. And no, I’m not.”
“Not what, hiding something? That’s not what I asked.”
“You didn’t have to, you’re implying it.”
“Lighten up. Christ. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He extended his hand. “I’m Samuel Gibbons.” I hesitated before finally accepting his hand shake. I stared at his sizeable hand in mine.
“What’s your friend’s name?” he asked and offered his hand to Mike.
“I’m Mike,” he said, and shook his hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mike. You look just like a friend I went to high school with named Mike. What’s your last name?”
“Penrose.”
“Mike Penrose,” he repeated. “Different Mike.” His attention returned to me. “I was wondering if I could speak with you a minute. May we take a seat inside?”
With or without the wolf, I didn’t want him inside my place. Having watched my fair share of television, I was aware of my legal rights—or at least what my rights would be if I were in a television show: do you have a search warrant? I’ve always perceived it to be a declaration of guilt, and it usually was. “If it’s only going to be a minute, can we do it out here?”
The officer considered a moment. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a good idea. It’s sensitive information, we need privacy. If you prefer we can go to the department and talk.” He looked past me to the car-port, where the nose of the BMW was exposed. “Wow, some car, Kevin,” he marveled. “Is that a new BMW 750iL?” I nodded. He whistled. “Twelve cylinders of German engineering at its finest. What’s that run, about a hundred grand? One-twenty?”
“Something like that.”
“I would ask how an airman affords such a car, but I’m sure I know the answer. Kloss must really like you, trust you.” I didn’t respond. I didn’t know where he was going with this but I wasn’t going to help him get there. “So what’ll it be? My place or yours?”
Nawien would either attack him or hide. She was smart enough to do the right thing. At least in my place I wouldn’t be alone with him, as I might be in an interrogation room. “My place, I guess.” He smiled as I unlocked and opened the door. I didn’t see Nawien. I offered him a seat on the couch. I closed the door behind Mike and asked Samuel to please hurry it along.
“By now I’m sure you’ve heard about the tragedy. Or maybe you were even there when it happened?”
“Yes I’ve heard about it, and no I wasn’t there.” He glared icily at me. He knew I was lying. What’s more, I believe he knew that I knew that he knew I was lying.
“I see,” he said evenly. “Where’s Holly?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her lately.”
“The reason why I’m here regards Holly
. She is in danger. I know you aren’t naïve to the situation. We are assigning her protective service, to assure her safety until we get this worked out. Two officers will be posted outside her residence. I need you to tell me where she is, for her safety.”
“You should have said that in the first place. I thought she was in trouble or something. She’s staying at The Vacaville Inn. Room 118.”
“Great,” he said. “I won’t take up any more of your time then. Would you mind if I used your phone real quick?”
“Uh, I suppose you can. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Great, I’ll try not to get lost on my way there,” he said mockingly. Mike and I stared at each other. Officer Gibbons was in the kitchen only briefly before returning. He squeezed my shoulder as he walked by me. “You gentlemen take care.” He crossed the door’s threshold and before closing the door, he fixed a no nonsense stare at me. In an affable and playful tone (utterly contradictive of his countenance), he warned, “I hope you aren’t lying.” He closed the door.
Mike and I listened to his descent down the stairs, his cruiser engine roar to life, and finally his transmission shift into gear. Nawien must have been listening too. When the cruiser drove off, she came out of the bedroom.
“Do you find it strange he didn’t say anything on the phone?” asked Mike.
“Very.” I went to the phone and pressed redial. There was no dial tone. “He disabled the phone.”
“He didn’t want you to warn Holly he is coming,” Mike said. “You know damn well he’s going to come back when he learns that she isn’t staying at the Vacaville Inn.”
“And we won’t be here. We need to find a place to stay for now.”
“We? Why me?”
“If they can find me this easily, I’m sure you won’t be too hard to find. By the way, great idea telling him your full name, Penrose. Bravo.”
“I’m not going to lie to a cop, sorry.”
“If that’s even a cop,” I said. “That’s a big if. I sure as hell didn’t get the cop vibe from him. Do you have an idea where we can stay?”
