by Beth Solheim
"I told him, but he didn't like it. What Reggie doesn't know is I went to the courthouse and introduced myself to Kimmer."
"Does Kimmer realize Reggie's the connection between the two of you?"
"He does now. When I told him Reggie seemed stingy and kept most of the profit, it didn't take much to convince Kimmer we should cut out the middle man. He liked the idea so much he said he'd provide all the work we can handle."
"How do you know you can trust him?"
"He's a judge. I trust him." A smug grin crossed Dan's lips. "I'll either be his best friend or his worst enemy. He's got too much to lose to cross me."
Pam watched Dan peel at the bottle's label with his fingernail. He wadded the scraps into a ball, placed it on his thumb, and shot it across the porch with his forefinger. The need to take charge overwhelmed her. Their good plan appeared viable only if carried out properly. Dan's careless attitude could ruin their future. She knew she could keep Dan under her thumb without him ever realizing it. She'd establish her own channel with Kimmer. On her terms.
Dan propped his feet on the railing. "Kimmer has an excavation job for me. First I have to hook up with a guy named Clay in Cabin 12. It has something to do excavation."
"In Pinecone Landing?
"It's right here at the resort."
15
"What the hell?" Clay stepped back. "What the hell?" He ran his fingers down the right-hand side of the screen door. "Who took my door knob?" He squinched his eyes into thin slits as he bent down and peered through the darkness. Balancing with his hands braced against his knees, he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off the knob on the left-hand side of the door. "What the hell?"
Clay looked from one side of the door to the other. He shrugged. As he opened the door, the clock's digital display flipped to 2:00 AM. He plopped down on the sofa and kicked off his sandals. Paper crinkled under his rear end. He raised his left cheek and tugged on the thick paper. It didn't budge. Rising, he removed the paper and threw it on the floor.
"What the hell?" He bent and retrieved the folded bundle of paper. Unfolding the top sheet, he held it closer to the lamp. "Hospital?" He smoothed the sheets against his lap and ran his hand over the blueprint. "What's this doing in my cabin?"
Clay traced his finger along the red line meandering from the hospital's front entrance to the bank of elevators. Paging deeper through the stack, he found a second sheet with more red lines. He followed the route until it ended with a large circled X in the obstetrics wing. He shifted his gaze from the top of the sheet to the bottom. "What the hell?"
He refolded the bundle and tossed it onto an adjacent chair. "I don't want to build no hospital. Whose big idea is this?"
Clay made his way across the cabin floor to the fridge. As he drew the refrigerator door open, his hip bumped against the counter knocking a pink blanket to the floor. His hand groped along an empty fridge shelf. "What happened to my beer?"
He rearranged the condiment bottles trying to find his beverage of choice. "Geez Louise," he mumbled as he discovered one lone beer bottle. After twisting the cap, he took a deep swig and leaned his hand on the counter.
His hand settled on a tiny face. He jerked back and slammed the fridge door. A loaf of bread sitting on top the fridge tottered before plopping onto the baby, causing both to fall to the floor.
"Oh no." He bent over to look at the baby. He patted it on the head. "Am I supposed to be babysitting?" He took another swig and picked the doll off the floor. "Nobody ever tells me anything."
"Look toward our cabin. Did you see anything?" Dan held perfectly still.
"What?" Pam swam up behind Dan and put her arms around him. The entire evening had gone too fast. She hadn't felt this relaxed in months. She loved it when Dan catered to her every need. When Dan selected Yerry's on the Bay to celebrate their anniversary, Pam had been thrilled. Until she saw the prices. Dan didn't waver and insisted they order the best wine on the menu. He hadn't been this attentive since the summer he tried to convince her infant abduction could be their key to wealth. And now this late-night swim. What a slice of heaven.
"There it is again," Dan whispered.
"What?" Pam peered around Dan's arm as warm lake water rippled over her shoulders. Treading water, she rubbed against his body.
"A light just flicked on and off in our cabin."
"You must be seeing things," Pam said.
"There. Look." Dan pointed as a shadow crossed the window.
"Are you sure that's our cabin?"
"Of course I'm sure." Dan pushed Pam away.
"Who do you think it is?" Pam's heart rate rose as Dan drew a deep breath and propelled toward shore.
She stroked frantically trying to keep up with Dan. "Wait," she burbled, swallowing a gulp of lake water. "Wait."
When Dan touched bottom, his legs struggled against the weight of the water as he ran toward shore. He turned back and reached out to Pam. "The gun. Where did you leave the gun?"
"In the nightstand. Right where you told me." Pam fought the rising bile in her throat.
"Shit," Dan muttered.
"You told me to put it there."
"Quit whining and shut up. Let me think." Dan patted his temples with his index fingers. "Come on. Follow me."
They edged behind Cabin 14 before crossing the opening to Cabin 9. A bark erupted from Cabin 14. Dan dodged behind a Norway pine and grabbed Pam, pulling her in behind the tree. "Don't get so far behind. Someone will see you."
Struggling to pull precious air into her lungs, Pam said, "Then don't go so fast."
Peeking around the pine, Dan signaled to the left with a point of his finger. "Are you ready?" He bolted across the second clearing and stopped at the corner of Cabin 9 to wait for Pam. He held a finger up in silence as Pam rounded the corner. "Stay here."
Dan crept up onto the porch and leaned against the logs just as the screen door flung open and a man stepped out.
The man looked up at the number on top of the door. "Nine?" He groaned. "No wonder. This isn't Cabin 12." As the man stepped forward, Dan's fist connected with his jaw.
"Who is he?" Pam bent over the fallen body. She fanned her hand in front of her nose and straightened. "He reeks."
Dan rolled the man sideways and dug for his billfold. He ran his finger over the name beneath the plastic window. "It's Clay Harren."
"Isn't he the guy Kimmer wants you to hook up with?"
"Yeah," Dan said, folding the billfold and shoving it back in Clay's pocket.
"Now what?"
"Let's get him inside." Dan shook Clay and patted his face. "You stink."
They pushed Clay into a sitting position. "Come on. Wake up." Dan pinched the skin on Clay's forearm.
"Ow," Clay mumbled. His hand went to his jaw. "What the hell?" He slapped at Dan's hand. "What are you doing?"
"You took a tumble. We're trying to help you."
Clay looked from Dan to Pam. "That's nice." He gazed at Dan's legs. "Where's your clothes?"
"Inside." Dan ran his hand over his chest. "We went for a midnight swim."
Clay leaned on Dan as they went into the cabin. "I broke your baby." Clay pointed at the doll on the sofa.
Pam scooped the doll up and grabbed the blanket off the floor.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break her. You never told me I had to babysit." Clay dropped into the log chair. "One minute she was there," Clay pointed toward the kitchen, "and the next minute she was on the floor. You're still going to pay me for babysitting, aren't you? I'm broke."
Dan motioned toward the bedroom with his chin. "Don't worry about the baby. She's fine. Pam's putting her to bed." His gaze followed Pam as she walked into the bedroom and shut the door.
"Do you have any more beer? I drank the last one."
Dan looked at the empty beer bottle on the coffee table.
When Pam returned, Dan motioned toward the screen door. "Our friend is thirsty. Check the trunk. I picked up another case this afternoon."
> Pam's head wagged back and forth in disgust as she let the door slam behind her.
"I understand we have a mutual friend." Dan pulled a shirt over his head.
"Oh yeah? Who?"
"Judge Franzen Kimmer."
"You know Kimmer?" Clay's jaw clicked as he yawned. He rested his head against the chair's cushion and wriggled into a snug position.
The screen door slammed again, as Pam returned with the case of beer. Her flip-flops slapped against her heels as she crossed the cabin floor. She hoisted the case onto the kitchen counter.
"We sure do." Dan smiled with enthusiasm. "I'm doing some work for the judge. I need to hire help. Would you be interested?"
"I didn't know Kimmer had decided to build a hospital. I'm not sure I want to work so hard."
Dan frowned at Pam. "A hospital?"
"Yeah. I saw the blueprints. It looks like too much work."
Pam's eyes sparked panic as she saw a corner of the blueprints sticking out from the chair cushion.
"Oh, the blueprints. That's for a job in Minneapolis," Dan said. "I need your help on something else."
"Does it pay good? It better pay good, cuz I'm short on cash."
"It does. It's an excavation job and you won't have to leave the resort."
16
"Here Belly," Sally said, picking a crisp French fry off the floor in Cabin 12. She sniffed it and held it out toward the dog. "It's got vitamins. It's good for you."
Belly swallowed the dusty fry without bothering to savor the flavor. He nosed under a T-shirt and came up with two more dried morsels.
Sally stepped over yesterday's newspaper and jumped up onto the sofa. She grabbed the remote control. "What do you want to watch?" She placed the doll she had taken from the neighbor's cabin next to her on the cushion and covered it with a damp towel. "Pew!" She grimaced and grabbed the towel. She threw it on the floor. "That stinks."
Belly pawed at the towel before flopping down and rolling on it.
"Do you want to watch cartoons?" She clicked through the channels. Her foot beat in rhythm with the music as a bright blue character ran back and forth across the screen. When a commercial interrupted the antics, she walked the doll across the length of the sofa, across Belly's back, and then dropped the rubber dolly on the floor.
Belly licked at the inside of a glass he had discovered until it lodged under the sofa.
Sally squatted. She fingered the edge of a heavy iron ring that peeked out from under a wrinkle in a braided rug.
Belly sat down next to her, cocked his head, and watched her delicate fingers pry at the ring.
"I can't lift it. It's stuck."
When Sally walked away, Belly dug at the ring with his claws, gouging the wood.
"Here, I found something," Sally said. She returned with a table knife and pushed Belly aside. Kneeling, she inserted the thin end of the knife under the ring. A grunt escaped as she twisted it back and forth. The knife snapped in half.
She looked up at Belly. "Oh, oh. Now you did it. I'll get another one." She climbed back up on the kitchen chair and pushed the utensils around in the drawer. Returning to Belly's side, she leaned her shoulder against the dog's bulk and pried at the ring. This time the knife bent in half. She sighed heavily. "Piece of crap."
Belly whined and pawed at the ring.
A third trip to the utensil drawer proved beneficial when Sally returned with a bulky, stainless steel soup ladle. Metal creaked in protest as the ring budged. Moving closer to the ring, her foot caught in the rug and she tripped forward.
"A secret door?" She looked at Belly and repeated through a whisper, "Look, it's a secret door." She brushed the crumpled rug to one side. She ran her finger along the slit outlining the door. Inserting the ladle handle between the wood slats, she pried, struggling to lift her weight. The trap door inched a fraction before settling. Sally moved off the door and pried again. The door rose. She grabbed the edge and lifted it.
"It's dark." Sally nudged Belly with her shoulder. "Do you want to go down there?"
Belly's nostrils flew into overdrive as he sniffed in rapid succession. He whined and danced in place, looking from Sally to the black hole and back to Sally.
Sally's gaze rose to a black flashlight perched high on a shelf over the fridge. She tried to push Belly aside. "I need a flashlight. I can't see down there. Can you?" She lowered her head into the hole. "It smells."
Her head swiveled sharply toward the front door. She let go of the trap door and it slammed shut. "Sadie's calling me. We'd better hide."
Sadie's voice grew louder and then faded in intensity. Sally put her finger to her lips. "We have to go. We'll come back tomorrow."
17
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the Fertile Turtle tonight?" Jane watched Sadie remove the lid on a makeup bottle.
"I'm too busy." Sadie dabbed at the recently deceased Dave Robert's forehead with a makeup sponge. She stood back to assess her work. "There. What do you think?"
Jane and Bernie Johnson crowded closer.
"Looks good." Bernie ran his hands under Burt's suit lapel. "Nice suit. Too nice for a burial."
Bernie gestured toward Sadie. "Speaking of nice clothes, I like your suit. Now you look like a funeral director's assistant."
"I look like an old lady," Sadie shot back. "Nan bought this for me. I hate it. Hate it, hate it hate it."
"That's exactly what Mom said you'd say." Aanders stare moved from the black suit jacket up to Sadie's moussed hair.
"You should wear the suit to the Fertile Turtle." Jane looked up at Bernie through an infatuated haze. "Men like women in respectable clothes, don't they Bernie?"
"Baloney. If I go dancing, I'm wearing my new outfit." Sadie smoothed the silk pillow under Dave's head. "How do you expect me to get a man if I dress like you? I like looking sexy. I can't help it if I'm God's gift to man."
As Bernie and Jane walked back across the lawn toward Cabin 14, Sadie dabbed at the deceased man's makeup one last time. She pointed to a floor-standing floral arrangement and asked Aanders to move it closer to the casket. He complied. After following Sadie's instructions, Aanders placed a basket containing sympathy cards next to the podium.
The front lobby door swung wide and Clay Harren barreled across the floor.
"Nan. Nan," Clay hollered lunging toward a visitation room. He threw open the double doors. One of the doors bounced off the door stop and rebounded back hitting his sandal. Clay's gaze rotated wildly from corner to corner. "Nan? I can't find you. Where are you?" He faltered as he made his way toward the casket.
Clay's hip bumped against the casket knocking a floral swag to the floor. "Nan? Is that you?" He looked down at the body on display.
Sadie shrieked. "Clay! Get away from there." She grabbed his elbow and attempted to direct him away from the casket.
Clay wrenched his arm from her grasp and turned back to the body. He patted the man's face. "Boy am I glad it's not Nan. When did old Dave die, anyway? Nobody ever tells me anything." He turned toward Sadie. "That is Dave, isn't it? He looks peaked."
Sadie signaled to Aanders. She looped her arm through Clay's arm and turned him toward the door.
Aanders followed Sadie's example and grabbed Clay's other arm. As they marched him between the row of chairs, Clay tried to shrug out of the young man's grasp. "Who the hell are you?"
Anguished emotion engulfed Sadie as she glanced at Aanders. Clay had literally sucked the air from her. "Come on, Clay," Sadie said in a hushed tone. "Let's go." When he didn't move, she tugged on his arm. "Come on. We're going back to your cabin."
"Oh please, Sadie, let me stay. I need to talk to Nan. I need some money. Can I borrow some money?" He smoothed his hair and ran his hands over his shirt to force out the wrinkles. "I'm broke."
"Broke? I thought Kimmer gave you some money."
"He did. But it's gone." Glancing down, Clay noticed his shirt tail hung loose. Trying to regain his balance after stumbling forward, he unzipped an
d began to tuck the shirt tail into his pants.
"Oh good grief." Repulsed by the ludicrous scene, Sadie averted her gaze.
"You don't have any underwear on," Aanders whispered.
"I don't?" Clay grabbed his waist band and held it out. "You're right. What happened to it?"
"Come on, Clay. Move it or you know what I'll do."
"Oh damn, Sadie. Don't call the cops. Last time they kept me for two days and it cost me four hundred bucks. The food tasted like shit. You know I don't have money." Clay whimpered as Sadie led him out the door.
"That happened five years ago. I'm surprised you remembered." Sadie led him across the mortuary porch and down the steps. "You've got to get out of here before Nan sees you."
A patrol car pulled into the mortuary parking lot as Sadie led Clay across the lawn.
"What's the problem, Sadie?" Lon started to open the car door.
"It's nothing. I've got it under control."
Lon removed his cap and ran his hands through his black hair. "That's not what it looks like." Static burst from the speaker on his shoulder. He pushed the call button. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."
"You called the cops?" Clay let out a low growl. "You traitor. I thought you were my friend."
"I thought you told me you quit drinking," Lon said, glaring at his cousin.
"I lied. I heard you were boinking Nan so I started drinking again. I couldn't help it."
The mortuary door closed and Sadie noticed Aanders behind the glass. He swiped at his cheek with the back of his hand.
"Nan told me she hired you to take care of the graves. If I ever hear you've caused her grief, you'll answer to me." Lon stood so close to Clay the toes of his black shoes touched Clay's sandals.
"Yes sir, pussy boy." Clay gestured with a salute that came nowhere near his forehead. "I see a uniform finally gave you balls."
"It has nothing to do with my uniform. When Nan told me she offered you a job, I was against it. The only reason she did is to keep an eye on you. She doesn't want you bothering Aanders."
