by Alice Sabo
“Thanks for the directions!” Bunny said with a wave as he pulled away.
“Directions?” Asher asked.
“That youngster tried to make me move,” Bunny grumbled. “Like there’s that much traffic here. I saw four cars go by. Four!”
“Ah.” Asher’s hand found the grab bar above the door. He put the other one flat on the dashboard.
“I’m a good driver,” Bunny said defensively.
“I know. I wouldn’t even get in the car if I didn’t think you were a good driver.”
“You’re traumatized,” Bunny said more gently. He reached over and patted Asher’s arm. “I promise it’ll be okay.”
Asher ground his teeth together to keep from yelling at him for taking a hand off the steering wheel. Luckily, traffic was awful. They crawled up the highway in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Unless there was an earthquake and the ground opened up, he was safe. And then he cursed himself for even thinking of such a thing.
Bunny let out a long sigh and slumped back in the seat. “We are going nowhere fast.”
Asher grunted in agreement.
Bunny fiddled with the radio. “I don’t suppose you remember Ian?”
“Ian? From where?”
“He worked with us on My Lady’s Displeasure.” Bunny inched the car along as traffic started moving.
“I was honest with you, Bunny. I was high all the time during that shoot. Can’t remember anything. I even rented it to see if it would jog my memory. What a train wreck.”
“Mm. Definitely not your best work.”
Asher barked a bitter laugh. “That’s kind. It was awful. I must have had someone feeding me lines through a headset. I looked horrible.”
“It wasn’t a happy time.”
“Why did you ask about Ian?”
“He hung out with you.”
“Lots of people did. Most of them were not friends.”
Bunny glanced over. “We were together.”
“I’ve never changed sides. He wasn’t cheating on you with me.” A raised eyebrow was all the response he got. But there was a sadness in Bunny’s blue eyes that Asher knew too well. “He’s dead isn’t he?”
“Yes. The film wrapped, and he was dead the next week.”
“I’m sorry.” Asher stared out the window at the side of the road. Grass and trees, not much to distract him. He knew he needed to follow up on this because there weren’t a lot of reasons why Bunny would bring it up. “You think I’m responsible.”
Bunny slowed the car again as they approached an accident. Two fire engines, police cars and ambulances crowded the highway. Traffic was being funneled over to the shoulder by cops in lime green safety vests. “I did at the time. But since you don’t even remember his name, I doubt you two were bosom buddies.”
“Lots of people called themselves my friends back then, but when it came down to it. . .” Asher sputtered to a stop as they passed the badly mangled carcasses of two cars. “That’s a bad one.”
Bunny stared out the windshield. “I can’t look. Makes me feel woozy.”
“Right. Eyes on the road,” Asher agreed. After the traffic sorted itself out, he went back to his previous train of thought. “The people around me now are the only people that were real friends back then. I’m sorry about Ian, but I don’t think I can give you any new information.”
Bunny shook his head. “I wasn’t looking for anything. Just mad at him for not wanting to live.” There was a long silence before the question came. “What made you change?”
Asher rubbed the scar on his thumb. “I spent some time in a state hospital. Saw the end results of my bad habits in my fellow patients. One day I realized that I did not want to end up like that.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t my first trip there. Wasn’t my first overdose. I’m luckier than most that I didn’t do more damage.”
“Mm. Guess it all comes down to what you want.”
Asher didn’t know how to answer that. He felt bad about Bunny’s friend, but doubted anything he said now would ease that old wound. There was a trail of damage and death from those years that he would be cleaning up for years to come. The traffic thinned out for a bit making him nervous again. Luckily, Bunny turned off at the next exit.
The street to the hospital was busy. For once, Asher found himself wishing for red lights. It seemed like he was getting his wish because they hit every one which elicited a louder grumble from Bunny each time the light changed against them. Crawling up the road toward the hospital gave Asher time to take in the surroundings. Lots of antique stores, restaurants, a couple of coffee shops, but when they started hitting office buildings with -ology and -ologist on the signs, he knew they were close. A fuming Bunny was teetering on the edge of road rage when he screeched to a halt in front of the hospital. He flung off his seat belt, grumbling about light sequences and traffic flow.
“Ash, would you mind sitting in the back?” Bunny asked before he got out.
“Not at all,” he said, and meant it. He could sit sideways and straighten out his sore knees. He stood by the car stretching and bending, trying to work the kinks out from sitting. It hadn’t been that long, but his wounded muscles cramped quickly. Or maybe it was because he was so nervous. The thought of the ride back on the highway was already making him sweat. Maybe there would be construction or something to slow them down.
He didn’t have to wait long. Oscar and Bunny came out together, but Oscar stopped to speak to someone behind them. Then they walked to the car laughing over some comment. Asher was surprised, and a little annoyed, to see that Oscar appeared fine.
“Whoa.” Oscar stopped dead when he saw Asher. “What happened to you?”
“Same thing as you. . .” Asher began.
“But not in the face,” Oscar added. He held out his hands to show Asher that he had matching bandages. “Got some bumps and bruises, but I’d say we were damn lucky.” He turned to Bunny. “Have they hauled the truck out, yet?”
Bunny rolled his eyes. “The truck was the last thing on my mind.”
Asher spent the entire ride back trying to get comfortable. His knees ached. He couldn’t decide if bent or straight was more comfortable. His hands itched but were much too tender to scratch. He shifted position again. They came off the highway onto the twisty mountain road.
“What are you doing back there?” Bunny snapped. “You’re as a restless as a two-year-old.”
“I can’t get comfortable.”
“We’re almost there,” Bunny said. He paused at a stop sign drowning in kudzu to get his bearings.
“Oh, I think there’s a short cut here,” Oscar said.
“No, not one of your short cuts. We won’t get back until after dark.”
“I use it all the time. Turn left here.”
Bunny glared at him. “I want to be back before dark.”
“It’s shorter. I promise.”
“Do you remember that short cut in Oklahoma?”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“Who said ‘Turn here’?”
“Do it,” Asher grumbled. “Please,” he amended after getting glared at from the front seat. He wanted to get out of the car as soon as possible. He was for anything that would stop the bickering and get them moving.
“Very well.” Bunny turned onto another meandering road that looked no different than the others. Lined on both sides by woods, it felt like a green tunnel. Kudzu ran riot across the ground covering anything in its path. Trees and undergrowth were inundated, turning them into green leafy lumps and humps. Sections of the woods looked alien where the rampant vines had won.
Suddenly the woods gave way to a view out over a body of water. “Is that Jenkins pond?” Asher asked sourly.
“I think so. This is the back side of it. You went in on the other side,” Oscar said.
“Be careful,” Asher muttered.
“I keep to the speed limit,” Bunny said, but he slowed the car anyway.
Asher saw an unpaved driveway off to his right an
d just past it the woods were scorched. “This must be where the meth lab was.” A heavy smell of char hung on the air.
Bunny slowed to a crawl. “I think you’re right.” He peered out the window. On the left, was a narrow strip of weeds and brambles blocking access to the pond. On the right was a sharp drop-off into a basin choked with kudzu. Where the ground rose on the far side of the bowl, all of the trees were blackened by fire. The undergrowth was shriveled where it wasn’t burned away.
“What did Mrs. Wheatly have to say about this?” Asher asked.
“She was uncharacteristically closemouthed about it. Just said that Clyde didn’t like anybody in his business.”
“Right, Clyde. Alma started talking about him and clammed up fast, too.”
Bunny sniffed. “Meth dealers are scary people.”
“Skid marks,” Oscar barked, pointing. “I think somebody ran off the road. Bunny, pull over.”
Bunny stopped the car in the middle of the road. “Oh God, now what?”
Oscar was out of the car before Bunny finished speaking. He waded into knee high mounds of greenery. Asher could sort of make out a straight line in the jumble of green and charred foliage about twenty feet from the road. Bunny lowered the front windows. “Be careful!” he called out.
Oscar stopped before he’d descended very far, then backed up very slowly. Asher heard the snarl. A long furred back moved through the kudzu. Bunny gasped.
All the hair prickled up the back of Asher’s neck. “Is that a wolf?” he whispered.
Bunny raised the windows a second before Oscar vaulted into the car and slammed the door. “Coyotes. I think I saw someone in that car. Call the sheriff.”
Chapter 18
Asher leaned forward to peer into the front seat. “Did you see a person?” he asked.
Oscar watched the jumble of foliage. The leaves moved like water with a shark below. “Just a shadow really. Could be anything.”
Asher had heard a story about someone who had run off the road, crashing into deep woods and wasn’t found for months. A grisly death, in his opinion. He hoped this wasn’t going to turn out the same way.
Bunny had to back up a dozen feet before getting reception on his cell. He called the sheriff, and they stayed in the car waiting for him to arrive.
“How could they get way out there?” Bunny demanded. “There’s no way to drive there from here. Maybe it’s a rock.”
“A flat rock?” Asher asked.
“It’s a car,” Oscar said firmly.
There wasn’t much to say after that. Asher tried a new configuration to stretch out more kinks. He was wondering if it was safe to get out when the sheriff finally arrived. Bunny lowered his window just enough to get his arm out to signal that the sheriff should pull up next to him. Asher was relieved to notice that it was a deputy he hadn’t met yet.
“Is there a problem, folks?”
“There’s a car in the kudzu with a pack of coyotes.”
Asher felt his lips twitching toward a totally inappropriate smile. Bunny sounded like some twisted Dr. Seuss.
“This is private property.”
“Coyotes!” Bunny snarled.
Oscar leaned across to speak out the driver’s window. “Sheriff, those are skid marks on the shoulder. We wanted to be sure that no one was trapped in that car. But when I started down there, I saw the coyotes.”
The deputy pulled onto the shoulder behind them. He took a shotgun out of the trunk before he climbed down off the road. The undergrowth was nearly chest high by the time he got to the car.
“He’s brave,” Asher said. He didn’t hear any growling. Maybe the coyotes had run away.
“He’s got a shotgun,” Bunny said bluntly.
“Not enough if there’s a couple of them,” Oscar said quietly. “I definitely saw more than one. Bunny, you armed?”
Asher’s jaw dropped when Bunny opened the center console and pulled out a pistol. He handed it to Oscar.
“You have a gun?” Asher sputtered.
Bunny blinked at him. “I’m a gay costume designer in Appalachia.”
The deputy came back, brows knitted in consternation. “You folks need to move on now.”
“Was there someone in there?” Bunny asked.
“This is a police matter now. All of you staying at Kozy Kottages?”
“Yes, but—”
“You need to go back there now. Nothing to see here.”
They traveled in silence. Barely a mile down, the road ended at a T intersection. A little further up, Asher could see the turnoff for the guest houses. Oscar was right about the short cut.
Bunny parked in front of his cottage. Asher hauled himself out of the backseat. “That was kind of weird.”
Oscar gave him a sideways glance. “Very.”
“Did you see what kind of car it was?” Bunny asked.
Oscar threw up his hands in exasperation. “What does it matter?”
“Maybe it was Brent’s.”
The words hit Asher with a sudden foreboding. “Do you think coyotes got him?”
“Only if he was an idiot,” Oscar said.
“But if he crashed the car. . .”
Oscar shook his head. “Lots of ifs here. Can’t say anything either way.”
Bunny gave Asher a gentle shove in the direction of his cottage. “Go sit in your hot tub.”
Asher stayed on his porch until their door shut on Bunny and Oscar’s bickering. With coyote and bear and mountain lions in the area, the hot tub in the back yard had less appeal.
Chapter 19
The next morning, Asher made his own coffee and toast for breakfast. He was feeling better. The swelling was down and the aches were easing. He’d taken a flashlight and a broom out to the hot tub last night. Not that he thought he could hold off a pack of coyotes with a broom, but having a weapon, of sorts, made him feel better. And if it came down to it, he had been trained to fight with a staff, although a broomstick was a rather small staff for someone of his height.
Ellie had lined up a rental car and arranged for Jeff to take Asher to his morning physical therapy sessions. He was glad that not going to the hospital turned out to be the right choice, or rather, not the wrong choice. Bunny and Oscar seemed to be well versed in injuries. Ellie had agreed that he could rely on them to make the call if he got hurt again. Considering the horseback riding and sword fighting, he was sure there’d be at least some split knuckles and bruises. Having all these mechanisms in place made him feel sensible, a responsible adult. One more concern off his plate, so he could focus on the preparation for this pivotal role. He was determined not to let anyone down.
Asher was working on his second cup of coffee and making to-do lists when Jeff finally pulled up in the rental. The vehicle was a big, red SUV. Probably too big for these meager roads, but it looked like it could handle any off-road situations. Asher was glad it was easy to get into. His legs were still not as obedient as they should be. Jeff barely glanced at him before heading down the driveway. Asher hadn’t gotten his seatbelt done. “Hey, easy, I’m still a little gun shy.”
“What?” Jeff turned a hazel-eyed glower on him.
“Eyes on the road!” Asher snapped. “I’ve had two car accidents since I got here. Drive carefully.”
“Sorry.” Jeff slumped down in the seat with a surly face.
Asher felt bad for barking at the boy. He was thin as a rail and his clothes looked older than he was, although it might be the fashion, which wasn’t Asher’s strong suit. But on second thought, this didn’t seem like a place that required couture the way LA did, so that probably made him dirt poor in a rural town. Asher didn’t know where to go with that, so he kept his mouth shut.
They traveled in silence to the therapist’s office where Asher submitted to the required torture and humiliation for forty-five minutes. He counted each agonizing second on the big clock in the exercise room. When he limped back out to the waiting area, he saw that Jeff had made himself comfortable on the
couch, paging through a cooking magazine, so he went to double check with the receptionist about the next appointment.
“Okey dokey,” he said to Jeff, who regarded him irritably. Asher waited until they got in the car to question him. “Everything all right?”
Jeff shrugged. “Uh huh. Now where?”
“Do you know a way to get up to the stables?”
There was a long pause. A muscle jumped in Jeff’s jaw like he was grinding his teeth. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he answered in a neutral voice. “Hilltop? Yeah, sure.” He put the car in gear and peeled out of the parking lot.
At Asher’s yelp, Jeff slowed the car to a more sedate speed. Asher tried to get him to talk a few times, but only got petulant responses grumbled incoherently. He wasn’t sure if that was typical behavior for a teenage boy, or if he’d done something to offend him. Jeff had seemed a lot friendlier the previous day. At least before Ellie had arrived. Maybe Ellie had said something to the kid. Asher couldn’t imagine what that might have been to get this kind of reaction.
Jeff headed up the same road Oscar had taken. Asher was about to tell him that the road was gone, when he took a sharp left. This road was a little narrower than the others, but it was in good shape. After another few minutes, they hit a fork with an old hand-painted sign that named the two options as Cahill Road or Jenkins Mine Road. Jeff turned onto Cahill Road.
“Is there a mine up there?” Asher asked. He remembered the flyers he’d picked up about the local gem mines.
“Used ta be.”
“But not now?”
“Caved in.”
“Oh.” That sounded interesting, but apparently Jeff didn’t care to discuss it. Asher thought about asking Mrs. Wheatly. She was more than happy to give him the local gossip. He was guessing that was how Bunny stayed so well informed.
They continued in silence up the winding road. Jeff slowed on a sharp curve. Another long unpaved driveway ran off to the left lined by junk cars and incomprehensible machinery rusting in a sea of kudzu. Up a slight rise, Asher could see the weather-beaten hulk of what once might have been a stately home. A mobile home hunkered down in the side yard.
