Dark Ends: A Horror Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  “Is your wife going to mind you bringing me here for lunch?” I asked as I looked up at a house that was big enough for three families.

  “No wife. Or kids. If you’re wondering about that. I’ve never been married.” We walked up the front steps onto the wraparound porch, and Brody opened the unlocked front door and held it for me. “The house seems like a bit much for a single guy. I know.”

  I sat at the island in Brody’s gourmet kitchen and watched him make our lunch. The grilled cheese came out perfectly toasted on both sides, and the cheese was just starting to ooze. My job was to open the can of soup and pour it into a saucepan. Brody took care of giving it the occasional stir between flipping the sandwiches.

  He’d said it was canned soup, but what he hadn’t mentioned was that it was some fancy organic brand with a celebrity chef on the label. I’d seen it in the store before and the stuff costs four times as much as the regular soup in red and white cans.

  “I guess being an archivist pays better than I’d thought.” I teased as I looked around at the professional-grade appliances and handlaid tile floors.

  “That’s pretty rude, Ms. Tyler,” Brody said, but he stuck his tongue out at me and went back to putting our sandwiches on plates and soup in bowls.

  “Sorry. I spend most of my time researching people’s lives and very little time talking to actual people,” I said and hoped that he hadn’t noticed my blush.

  “At least you get to travel around and be alone. I spend my days locked up in that building, and it’s just me, myself, and I. Sometimes I find myself talking to my plant,” Brody said and put my sandwich and bowl of soup down in front of me. “Now eat up because we’ve got to get back to work.”

  “A lot of good that’s going to do,” I grumbled, but at least the food looked and smelled delicious.

  “Uh, I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time on your first day,” Brody said and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

  “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not like it’s your fault,” I responded, but in truth, it was exactly his fault. Either he’d done a terrible job keeping his records safe and accessible, or there was something more sinister afoot.

  I studied the look in Brody’s eyes as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt. One advantage of being a terrible conversationalist was that I got to spend most of my time interacting with other people watching their behavior.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, and it sounded noncommittal to me. “Should we eat?”

  “Yes, thank you so much,” I said and took a bite of my sandwich. Admittedly, it was the most delicious grilled cheese I’d ever had.

  We ate our lunch quickly and relatively quietly. I still had work to do, and Brody and I needed to get back to the research building soon.

  Once I got back to my office, I tried to sort through the files I had. I put sticky notes on the ones I believed were missing records, and set them off to the side. By the time I was done, I realized that nothing I’d been given to work with was complete. I couldn’t figure out how that was possible. I’d never worked a single case where there were zero full archives.

  It couldn’t have been possible that Brody was completely incompetent. At least I didn’t want to believe that someone who worked as an archivist could mishandle records that badly. So I decided to do my own search. I’d look through the places that Brody had pulled the files from for me and see what I could find.

  He was in his office so I crept out of mine and closed the door behind me as softly as I could. I wanted a chance to nose around without anyone looking over my shoulder. I walked down the hallway to one of the rooms that said “Public Records” on the door. Unfortunately, when I swiped my badge across the sensor, the light turned red. I tried again and still no luck.

  My badge wouldn’t grant me access to the room, but there was no indication that it was a protected historical room. In fact, Brody had said that the archives I couldn’t access were in the basement.

  “Can I help you find something,” Brody asked from his office doorway. He was smiling, but I could see him fidgeting with his sleeves again.

  “I’m just hoping to track down some more of the documents I’m missing. I thought I’d have a look around,” I said and walked down the hall to meet him.

  “There’s nothing that can help you in there,” he said and exited his office while closing the door behind himself.

  “It says public records, and I’m definitely missing some public records.”

  “That room used to house those, but now we’re using it for overflow of historical stuff. That’s why your badge doesn’t work,” he said.

  “Well, I need to locate what I’m missing or I can’t help you,” I said plainly. “Are you sure there is nothing kept at the town hall?”

  “You know, there could be. Why don’t we go there tomorrow? It’s quitting time for today,” Brody said and started for the exit before I could respond.

  “Wait, you don’t know if there are more archives at the town hall? You’re Ash Roads’ only archivist.” This case had continued to get weirder.

  “There could be some things with the court records. I don’t know. Frankie’s life wasn’t my main job responsibility. But we could always look for court docket entries. If someone had messed with her records, they couldn’t touch those, right?”

  “I never said her records had been tampered with,” I responded and found myself tapping my foot impatiently. I needed some air and space to marinate in all of this conflict. I also needed backup.

  “I know you didn’t say it but I can see the way you’re looking at me. It’s what you’re driving at. You think I did something to them or you think I’m completely incompetent.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” That was exactly what I was saying.

  “Look, you’ve had a rough start. Why don’t we start fresh tomorrow?”

  “Okay,” I said and sighed.

  “Good evening, Lara.”

  “Good night, Brody,” I said. “Oh wait. Is there a grocery store around here?”

  There was only one grocery store in Ash Road; it wasn’t a big chain place. Bob’s Grocery and Sundry looked like something out of a movie about small towns. Just like almost every other place of business in town, Bob’s was within walking distance of the inn. The shelves were stocked with essentials in brands that I recognized, but unlike in the city, you were in no danger of paralysis by analysis.

  When I went to pick out bread, there was white and wheat in two brands. As I reached for the loaf of wheat, I noticed a sign announcing that there were local goods in the back of the store. I left the plastic bag of commercial wheat bread behind and made my way to the rear of the store to see if there was anything from a local bakery.

  Sure enough, I hit the jackpot. I found bread baked by a woman in town. There wasn’t an official bakery name attached so I imagined that she cooked it in her home. There were also jars of fresh ground almond butter in a cooler next to the bread, and I found jars of homemade jam. I knew those items would make tasty sandwiches, but I also wanted something savory.

  Over in the deli section, I grabbed a package of honey ham and another of roast turkey lunch meat. Gouda and Swiss cheese slices went into my basket as well. The only other things I needed were potato chips, mustard, and a bag of apples.

  I figured that would get me through the week, and I’d have snacks in my room too. While I was picking up the apples, two women stood on the other side of the small produce section engaged in what I guessed was gossip. They looked at me and lowered their voices, but I could still hear most of what they said.

  The gist of it was that the subject of my investigation, Frankie Horowitz, was loaded. One of the women mentioned that she might have gold buried on her property. That part I blew off as fantasy, but I wondered what they meant by loaded.

  Sadly, no one had had the slightest idea how much money Mrs. Horowitz had really been worth. Her case was the first time I had no idea abou
t the size of the estate that was at stake. Not all of my jobs included tracking down relatives for property distribution. But in the past, any of them that did, I at least knew how much money was involved.

  It was time to call in backup.

  Chapter Three

  Lara

  Ellie Kazamakis is a colleague of mine who worked low-information cases. I wasn’t sure how she did it, or if her methods were entirely legal. But what I did know was that Ellie could get results when a case seemed hopeless.

  I’d never had to call her in this early before, and I’d never had so little information. I hoped that she was up for a challenge. I thought that perhaps if I could frame the situation like a game or puzzle and stroke Ellie’s ego just right, she’d jump at the chance to come bail me out of the mess I’d found myself in.

  After I got back to my room at the inn, I put my groceries away and gave Ellie a call. It went to voicemail after a few rings.

  Lunch had been late but by the time I’d gotten in for the evening, my stomach had begun to growl again. Brody had said something earlier in the day about a diner in town. I made the decision to grab some dinner there. I figured if Ellie called back, I could get the food to go. If not, it would be something to do until she and I did speak.

  I had no idea where the restaurant was or what it was called, and I didn’t want to call Brody. It was too big of a risk that he’d want to meet me, and I definitely didn’t want him here while I spoke with Ellie about the case. So I headed down to the front desk to see if there was someone who could tell me where the diner was located.

  A large, pleasant-looking woman sat at the desk. She was reading a paperback. Her hands were covering the important parts and I couldn’t quite make out what book she read. There were hints of a sweeping dress and a woman swooning into the arms of a bare-chested Viking so I assumed it was a romance. The woman wore a name tag that said Roberta.

  “Good evening, Lara,” Roberta said after she placed her book on the desk facedown. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, thank you.” It was still a bit unnerving that people knew who I was without introduction at that point, but I’d decided to go with it instead of commenting every time someone called me by name before I’d introduced myself.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” She asked with a sweet, sincere smile.

  “Brody mentioned a diner earlier. We work together, but you probably already know that.” I said the last part more to myself than to Roberta. “What he didn’t tell me was where it is located. I would like to go there.”

  “Oh, certainly. You just take a right when you go out the front doors, walk to the end of the block, take a right, and then walk about two more blocks. You should see the neon sign as soon as you turn the corner. It’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from here.”

  “Thank you, Roberta,” I said.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” she said and then thought of something else. “Oh, and my name tag says my Christian name, but you can call me Bertie.”

  “Okay, Bertie. Have a good evening.”

  “Night, sugar,” Bertie said as I walked out the front doors into the chilly night air.

  Bertie had been right. I could see the diner’s sign as soon as I turned the corner. If I’d taken the time to go into the gardens behind the inn, I probably could have seen it from there. It was twilight by the time I headed out for dinner, so the warm glow of red and blue neon mixed with the mouth-watering smell of grilled burgers beckoned me in the half-light.

  One block down and halfway to the diner, I got the sinking feeling that someone was following me. It was a weird sensation because one of the only places to eat in town was ahead of me, and the center of Ash Road was behind me. It would stand to reason that lots of people might have been walking that way at that time. But the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was a sixth sense I’d picked up from spending so much time in unfamiliar cities but I hadn’t expected it to trigger in a small town like Ash Road.

  I debated until the diner was half a block away and then decided to be brave and turn around. No one was there but I could have sworn I saw a shadow dart into the bushes of a house I’d just passed.

  “You’re being silly,” I whispered to myself. “You’ve gotten yourself all worked up over nothing.”

  Still, I quickened my pace and pushed through the doors of the diner as fast as I could. The din of conversation stopped and heads swiveled in my direction as soon as I entered. I tried to pretend like I didn’t notice because otherwise I would have turned and fled.

  “Take a seat anywhere, honey,” a waitress behind the counter said before turning her attention back to the man who had been giving her his order before I walked in and disrupted everyone with my presence.

  There were only two booths available. One was right by the front door, and the other was in the back corner by what I assumed at the time was the kitchen door. I chose the out-of-the-way table because I hoped Ellie would call back shortly.

  Menus were stuck in a metal rack between the condiments and the salt and pepper shakers. I pulled one out and opened it up. The offerings were standard diner fare and I quickly located the burger section. By the time the waitress—her name tag said Candy—made it to the table, I knew what I wanted.

  “What’ll it be?” she asked and popped her gum inside her cheek.

  “I’ll take the double burger with no cheese and mayo only,” I said and closed the menu. “Diet Coke to drink, please.”

  “You want fries or onion rings?” She asked, but didn’t give me time to answer. “If you like onion rings, I’d get those. It’s the best thing we got here. The fries are okay but the onion rings are out of this world. If you like that kinda thing,” she finished with a smile.

  “I’ll take the onion rings then.”

  “Comin’ right up,” she said and spun away on her tiptoes.

  My food arrived less than ten minutes later and I was actually kinda glad that Ellie hadn’t called yet. The burger and onion rings smelled incredible, and it was a treat to eat them while they were still piping hot. The double hamburger was cooked to juicy perfection, and the onion rings came with a special house sauce that elevated them to heavenly. When I was done eating, I left cash on the table and headed out.

  If someone had followed me, I didn’t notice them on the way home because Ellie finally called.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” Ellie asked as soon as I answered.

  “Buttercup?” I asked, and she just laughed. “Anyway, I’ve got a case I could use your help with if you’re available.”

  “I don’t come cheap,” she responded. “Especially not right now. I’ve got more jobs than I can take. But I won’t gouge you if you can wait a week for me. I’m in the middle of something I can’t walk away from.”

  “A week?” I asked sadly.

  “Yep. Sorry, toots. For you, I’d walk away from what I’m working on if I could. I can’t this time. It sucks.”

  “A week is a long time to delay the case. I’ve got to get out of this town.”

  “I heard through the grapevine that you’re trapped in a small town in Middle America,” she said.

  “Can I have a bit of time to think it over?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but not too long, okay? I’ve got three other clients breathing down my neck to accept their jobs.”

  I walked the rest of the way back to the bed-and-breakfast. By the time I was in my room, I knew I had to wait for Ellie. It would take me longer than a week to sort things out for myself. I called her back and prayed she answered the phone right away. I didn’t want to wait longer for her services because someone who could offer more money than I could called her before I got through.

  “If you’re calling me back this fast, you must have decided that you’re going to employ my services,” Ellie said after answering my call on the fifth ring.

  “Yeah, I’ll wait for you. I need your help on this one,” I said.

  “Yippee. The dy
namic duo is back in action,” she said, and it made me laugh. “Now fill me in a little on what’s got you stumped. What am I getting myself into?”

  I filled her in on the details of the case. Ellie listened as I told her about the missing paperwork, the lack of information on the amount of the estate, and all of my suspicions. When I was done, she just said,

  “Interesting.”

  Chapter Four

  Lara

  I’d gotten myself all riled up during the conversation with Ellie. I knew there was no way that I could go to sleep, but what could I do at this hour in a small town? It felt like the walls of my room were closing in on me and I had to get out.

  That’s when I remembered what I’d seen a block in the other direction of the diner on the opposite side of the road. Ash Road had at least one tavern within walking distance of the inn. While I was still a bit creeped out about the prospect of someone following me, I figured that whoever it was probably thought I’d turned in for the night. Or, I was crazy, and there was no one stalking me.

  Fortunately, I didn’t get that anxiety-inducing there’s someone behind me feeling on the way to the bar. I could hear the loud honky-tonk music spilling out from the bowels of the building and it made me feel better. I don’t know why. Up until that moment, I’d always hated country music. But the sound was comforting and made me feel less alone.

  Once I got inside, the smell of beer and peanuts hit me. The music was loud, but not so much that you wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation with someone sitting right next to you. There were a few people at tables and some guys playing pool at the only pool table in the corner, but the tavern wasn’t packed.

  There was only one person sitting at the bar. I walked over and hopped up onto a stool on the opposite end from him. The guy looked haggard and had given me the “I’m drinking alone” look when I walked in so I gave him his space.