by Dave Daren
I checked the ground for signs of recent passage, but both trails were obviously well used by the commune members and I couldn’t tell which prints were fresher or which direction Eliot had taken. I gave up on visual clues and turned the penlight off, and then stood and listened. After a moment, I could hear small creatures in the brush and the hoot of an owl from a nearby tree. There was the sound of the stream as well and the splash of something jumping into the water. For a moment, I thought it might have been a human, but I quickly realized it wasn’t big enough, and when the frogs started to call to each other, I understood what I had heard.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t figure out where Eliot had gone. There wasn’t even a flash of clothing along the top of the hill or the sound of the tarp being lifted at the cave to guide me. I debated what to do next and then decided that wandering around unfamiliar territory in the middle of the night with only a penlight to guide me didn’t sound like a good idea.
I scanned the area one last time, but Eliot remained elusive. With a sigh, I started back down the trail and hoped that my absence hadn’t been noticed. It was harder going down in the dark than it had been coming up, and my feet seemed to find every rock and stone along the way. I muttered more than a few curse words as I picked my way through the brush, and then nearly started laughing as I told myself that up until the night’s adventure, my toes were probably the only part of my body that hadn’t been sore.
It was a relief when I finally spotted the barn and I tumbled down the hill much too quickly. I nearly fell down once and stepped in a thick puddle of what I hoped was mud, but then I was back in the yard and strolling towards the truck as if nothing had happened.
“Where on earth have you been?” Lila asked as I neared the old Ford.
“Oh, ah, well,” I stammered. “I was enjoying the night sky. We don’t see this in the city. But I sort of wandered too far.”
“You’re so silly,” she said and a flash of white let me know that she had smiled.
“I hope no one minds that I didn’t help with the clean-up,” I replied.
“No one really noticed,” she said. “Everyone was too busy talking about the balsamic vinegar you’re going to make. There were lots of ideas on infusions you could make with it, like blackberry vinegar or something really exotic like hibiscus.”
“I’m sure the company would be happy to hear the ideas,” I replied. “But first we have to actually make the vinegar.”
“Well, I think everyone is okay with the idea,” she mused.
“Even Richard and Eliot?” I asked. “They didn’t look very happy.”
“Richard’s coming around,” Lila insisted. “Eliot just takes time.”
I cast a quick glance towards the hill where Eliot had disappeared and wondered what he was saying to the Sheriff at the moment.
“Would you like some company tonight?” Lila asked.
I swung back to look at the environmentalist so fast that I nearly lost my balance.
“Er…” I muttered.
“I need a break from the commune,” she added. “I’d like to share a room with just one nice man instead of four gossipy women for awhile.”
“We could do that,” I agreed. “Do you need to bring anything?”
“I’m good,” she said as she moved towards the passenger door. “As long as you’re willing to bring me back out in the morning.”
“I think I can manage that,” I said with a smile of my own.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, and after a couple of coughs from the engine, I managed to get the truck turned around and started back towards the town. The tunnel of trees was as dark as the cave and I drove slowly just so I wouldn’t lose the road and crash into a tree trunk. But once we were back on the road into town, it was still too dark to pick up speed. The ancient headlights only picked out a few feet of road at a time, and as beautiful as the night was, I secretly wished that at least one or two street lamps had been installed.
At last, I spotted the lights of the town and we rumbled towards the light as fast as the old truck would go. There were still a few people in the park, and lamps dotted a few of the windows, but otherwise the town was quiet. The government building looked more ominous in the dark, like a hulking form about to pounce on the town. Happily, the inn was well-lit and inviting, and I found a spot close to the lobby door.
“I just need to drop off the ice chest and then we can head up,” I said as we climbed out of the truck.
“I’ll just wait by the desk,” she said.
I carried the now empty ice chest inside and discovered that the clerk, as was usual in the evening, was nowhere to be seen. With a shrug, I turned towards the dining area and wove my way through the tables to the kitchen. I left the ice chest where I had found it, then looked around for a pen and a piece of paper. I finally found a red pen and an order pad and scribbled a quick thank you that I left on top of the chest.
I found Lila in the lobby where she had discovered some old pamphlets on things to do in the area. She had laid them out across the desk and was studying each one intently, as if to compare what they had to say. After a moment, she moved two of the pamphlets to different spots and studied the new arrangement as she chewed on her lip.
“Anything interesting to do around here?” I asked as I slipped up behind her.
“I was just playing a game,” she laughed. “We used to do it when we were kids and our parents would take us on road trips. We’d gather up as many of these as we could and we’d try to arrange them in the order we would do them.”
“How often did you get to do them?” I asked as I looked at her arrangement. It started with a white water rafting tour and ended with a hike through the Monongahela National Forest.
“Almost never,” she sighed. “We were usually going to visit relatives, which meant we spent all of our time hanging around the house and playing with our cousins.”
“That’s a shame,” I said as I picked up one for a coal mine. “I’m surprised you’d want to visit a coal mine.”
“It’s good to know your enemy,” she said solemnly.
“Was it Richard or Eliot who told you that?” I asked.
She managed to keep a straight face for about fifteen seconds, and then she started to giggle.
“Richard,” she admitted. “I’m really just interested in the history of it.”
“Shall we go up?” I suggested.
She gathered her collection of pamphlets and we climbed the stairs together, though I noticed the steps dipped even more with our combined weight. Once we were in the room and had turned on the lights, I finally got a good look at the results of my attempt to follow Eliot. I had mud, I hoped, caked on my shoes and around the edges of my pants. I pulled them off in the bathroom rather than leaving a trail through the room, and left them in the bathtub to be rinsed later.
Lila was already naked and under the covers when I returned, and she had found a local weather report on the TV that seemed to hold her interest. She looked me over when I cleared my throat, then pulled the sheet back so I could join her.
“Do you take a lot of breaks from your roommates?” I asked curiously.
“No,” she said as she turned off the TV and turned on her side so she could study me. “I’m usually fine with it. But I really wanted to stay with you tonight.”
She smiled as I leaned in, and as my lips closed over hers, I felt her fingers grasp my hair and pull me closer. I was soon balanced above her and my tongue was working its way along her neck and down towards the round breasts that offered such an enticing view.
“You’re still dressed,” she chuckled as she snapped the waistband of my shorts. “That’s no fun.”
I sat up with a grin and quickly removed the rest of my clothing while she laid back and offered me a spectacular view of her entire body. When I was finally free, she pulled me back towards her with one hand on my erection and one ruffling my hair. She was panting by then, and all I could do was groan in r
esponse.
The night flew by as we wrapped ourselves around each other, and I stopped counting how many times she begged me to take her just one more time. I had tasted every inch of her skin, a heady mix of cinnamon and wildflower, by the time we finally collapsed for the last time and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
I would have happily stayed in the bed into the late hours of the morning with Lila curled by my side, but as the early morning birds gave way to the raucous cries of the blackbirds and the furious calls of the blue jays, someone pounded on the door to my room. Bleary eyed, I looked around for clothing, then gave up and rolled out of the bed. The pounding came again, and I stumbled towards the door.
“Who is it?” I yelled back as I tried to peer through the peephole.
“Sheriff Harris,” the voice responded. “Open up!”
“Hang on,” I said as I tried to locate my duffel bag. “I need to get dressed.”
The Sheriff pounded again, but I’d spotted my bag by then. I pulled on a plain red t-shirt and a pair of jeans while Lila sat up lazily in the bed and pulled the sheet tighter.
“What’s up?” I asked as I finally opened the door.
The Sheriff had his fist raised, ready to knock on the door yet again. I spotted another guest with a room on the floor who had opened his own door and was now peering down the hall at the Sheriff. The man had his cell phone at the ready, and I hoped that there wouldn’t be anything worth recording in this meeting.
“You need to come with me,” the Sheriff replied. I noticed that his buzz cut looked mussed and his hazel eyes were filled with anger. There were dark smudges there as well, and the man had already drunk enough coffee to fill the hallway with its scent.
“Why?” I asked in confusion. “Did something else happen to the car? Or the truck?”
“We need to discuss this at the station,” the Sheriff said as he glared at the other guest.
The guest slowly retreated into this room and closed the door, though I suspected he was probably still just on the other side and hoping to hear more of our conversation.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” I replied.
The Sheriff started to respond, but then he must have caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He clamped his mouth shut and a look of disapproval crossed his face.
“What’s going on?” Lila asked as she sidled up next to me. She was still wrapped in the sheet, and her brown hair made a fuzzy halo around her head. She still looked sleepy, and she even yawned for added effect.
“Tom Baker is dead,” Harris replied. “Shot twice in the head. Looks like a hit to me, and it’s not hard to guess who might have ordered it.”
I tried to respond but nothing would come out. All I could think about was Anthony’s message that he was working on an offer for the property appraiser, and his anger at Baker’s ham handed attempt to threaten me. In that moment, I wondered if my client had finally decided to take up his father’s mantle, and if he had, if I was now caught in the middle of a war between a Mafia don and a country Sheriff.
Chapter 8
“When did this happen?” I asked in stunned surprise as I tried to ignore the doubts that swirled around my brain.
“Last night,” Harris said as he looked at Lila.
“We’ve been here all night,” Lila said as she leaned into me.
“Uh huh,” the Sheriff snorted.
“It’s true,” Lila sniffed.
“It is,” I finally added.
The Sheriff scowled, but Lila only snuggled closer to me.
“We still need to talk,” the Sheriff insisted.
“Can I at least get cleaned up?” I asked. “You can wait here if you want, just to make sure I don’t make a run for it.”
The Sheriff studied the other doors along the hallway, then forced his way into the room. He spotted the chair and walked over to it, then sat down with a solid thud.
“Don’t take long,” he suggested.
Lila was apparently unfazed by the Sheriff’s determination to remain. She gave me a peck on the cheek, then returned to the bed. She found the remote for the TV on the bedside table, and tuned into one of the morning shows. I watched all of this from the open doorway, then sighed, closed the door, and gathered what I needed to prepare myself for the day.
The muddy pants and shoes were still in the tub, so I left them piled on the tile floor while I cleaned up. When I was clean-shaven and minty breathed, I rejoined the Sheriff and Lila, neither of whom appeared to have moved.
“Do you need to talk to both of us?” I asked with a nod towards Lila.
Lila looked at the Sheriff as she started to slide out of the bed again. Harris held up his hand and shook his head.
“I just need to talk to you for the time being,” he said with an emphasis on the carefully enunciated you.
“I’ll take you back to the farm once we’re done,” I offered as I turned towards my roommate for the night.
“That’s okay,” she replied. “Someone will be in town soon. I can go back with them if you’re still tied up.”
“Don’t forget to leave me that address,” I added as the Sheriff stood up and moved towards the door.
She nodded and gave me a reassuring smile as the Sheriff yanked the door open and pulled me outside. Harris led the way down the treacherous stairs, past the front desk where Jess was once again on duty, and out the front door to the cruiser which he had parked with the front wheels on the walkway, a few inches from the front door.
“Did you really think I was going to make a run for it?” I asked as I took in the parking job.
Harris didn’t say a word as he yanked the back door to the cruiser open.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked. “I have an alibi and I’m coming willingly.”
“Get in,” the Sheriff growled.
I wanted to protest again but the Sheriff made several grunting noises that sounded like a bull about to charge. He was so far beyond angry that I wasn’t sure he could even speak beyond simple one syllable words. I slowly stepped towards him, with my hands held up in a peaceful gesture, and slid into the back seat. He slammed the door shut, then thumped into the driver’s seat.
There was no need for sirens or lights, thank goodness, since we were just heading to the other end of the park, but I saw the pedestrians we passed stop and point, and I had no doubt that word of my arrest would soon spread through the town. The Sheriff pulled in behind the office, out of sight of the curious crowd, and led me to the back door, a thick metal door with a sign above it that said ‘Folsom Jail’.
“You said we were just going to talk,” I protested when I saw the sign.
“Just get inside,” the Sheriff rumbled as he entered a code on the only piece of high tech equipment I’d seen in the town.
The door buzzed, and Harris yanked it open with a vicious pull. He glared at me until I eased around him and stepped into the mystery area at the back of the building. I found myself in a pale yellow space with overhead fluorescent lights, two cells on the right side of the space, and the doors to a pair of bathrooms on the left. There was a single bunk and toilet in each cell, and that was it for furniture in the entire room.
“Keep goin’,” Harris commanded when I stopped for a moment to look around.
I moved forward again, to a second door that I guessed led into the front office where the Sheriff and I had met before. There was another key pad on this side of the door, and the Sheriff entered his code once again. There was another buzz, and this time I pulled the door open and stepped into the front of the building.
The room was empty and smelled like stale coffee. The lights were still off, as were the computers, so no one had made it into the office yet. The Sheriff gave me a nudge towards the plastic chair, not so hard that it qualified as a push, but enough to let me know that I was expected to take a seat. I did so as Harris turned on the overhead light and then moseyed over to the coffee maker. He sniffed at the pot, sco
wled at the filter when he opened the lid, then cleaned everything out, added a new filter, a huge serving of ground coffee, and let the machine begin its process. When all of that was tended to, the Sheriff walked back to his desk and sat down. The cold glint was back in his eyes, and he was happy to let me stew for several minutes, no doubt in the hope that I would blurt something out. But after months of interviews with various New York City and Federal agencies, I knew how to keep my mouth shut.
“That girl was with you all night?” the Sheriff finally asked.
“Lila Atcheson,” I replied. “Yes, she was.”
“Oh, you actually know her name,” the Sheriff noted.
“Of course I do,” I said calmly.
“So was that your plan all along?” he asked. “You make nice with some girl so she’ll sleep with you on the night your boss decides a show of force is needed.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied. “Lila asked to come back to the inn, not the other way around. And my boss didn’t decide a show of force was needed.”
I was fairly confident about that last statement, though Anthony’s last instructions to me, to keep going with the contract because Anthony knew how to deal with Hup, were starting to sound a lot more ominous in light of recent events. I tried to figure out if Anthony could have gotten a hitman here in time to kill Hup, then told myself to banish the idea and focus on the man in front of me.
“When I find the man who killed Hup, and I will find him,” the Sheriff said in a cold voice, “I’m going to drag every last bit of information from him. And after I do that, I’m going for you next.”
“For what?” I demanded. “I haven’t done anything and I don’t know who killed Hup.”
