The Bogus Biker

by Judy Nickles

  “Look, Shana, we don’t know he was mixed up in anything. Sometimes things aren’t always what they appear.” Hadn’t Sam said that to her the other day? She hoped he was right.

  “I’ve have staked my life on his honesty.”

  “Me, too, and maybe we still can. I’ve got to hide all this stuff, somewhere that nobody but Bradley will think to look.” She sat reviewing all the possibilities in her mind and rejected closets, the pantry, the basement, and the part of the attic not converted into the suite. “I blessed don’t know,” she said.

  “I guess we could take it out back and bury it like pirates used to do.”

  “You might have something there, but we can’t be sure somebody isn’t watching the house.” Penelope squinted through the reading tortoise-shell glasses perched at the end of her nose. “But we could bury it in the house.”

  “Make a hole in one of the floors? That’s pretty obvious.”

  “Not if we do it right. Let me show you something.” Penelope led the way through the dining room into the main hall and opened the closet under the stairs. “When I remodeled the house, I had all the hardwood floors refinished but not in here. There was some water damage years ago, and the boards are rotted in a couple of places. They’re not fixing to fall through or anything, but they’re not solid either. Mum cut a carpet remnant to fit and told me to remember not to put anything heavy in a certain spot. I keep winter coats hanging in there and some light boxes of seasonal decorations.”

  “But wouldn’t everything fall into the basement if…”

  “No, because when we remodeled the basement, Daddy had the ceiling lowered. So I’m guessing there’s about two feet of space between the floor and the old ceiling. Go get a plastic trash bag out of the pantry and stuff everything in there. I’ll get some tools out of the utility room and pry up enough boards to make room to drop the bag down.”

  “But you said you wanted to put it in a place where only Brad would think about looking.”

  “He used to play in here until Mum told him he’d gotten too big and might fall through the damaged floor. He still snuck in there occasionally and called it Nan’s No-No. I’ll write those words on a sticky note and leave it tacked to the corkboard in the pantry. He’ll know exactly what I mean.”

  “Will he think to look in the pantry?”

  “We used to leave notes for each other when he was in school. I think if anything happens…well, I think that’s the first place he’d look.”

  “You don’t think he knows Sam is stashing us somewhere?”

  “I don’t know, Shana. I hope so, because I don’t want him to worry, but…just go put everything in one of those big green trash bags and tie it up. I’ll start moving boxes out of here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  By midnight, the closet under the stairs had been returned to its former state. It had been harder than Penelope anticipated, prying up the damaged boards enough to force the plastic bag through the hole. She’d sent the splintered wood after it and simply replaced the carpet remnant and the boxes. Straightening up, she said, “I’m going to shower and change clothes before Sam gets here.” She sniffed her shirt. “I don’t know how I smell like smoke after being out at the Point for such a short time, but I do. Smoke clings to me anyway. One day I went into the girls’ bathroom at school before I walked home, and there were two others in there smoking. When I got home, Mum flew all over me. I’m not sure she ever believed I wasn’t guilty.”

  “I’ll clean up, too,” Shana said. “I don’t know what I smell like.”

  “Not smoke.”

  “Actually, I used to be one of the bathroom smokers. I didn’t like it, but I thought I had to do it to be cool. And my granny used to smoke a pipe.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  Shana’s head bobbed up and down. “She sure did. It was her grandmother’s corncob pipe. When Granny died, Daddy made sure I got it as a keepsake.” Shana’s mouth twisted. “We were real close, and she’d be so ashamed of me now.”

  “You can’t keep beating yourself up. You did what you did, and now you’re sorry, and you’re going to move on.”

  “When all this is over, I’m going home.”

  “Ohio, you said.”

  “Right. My Daddy farms there.”

  “Do any of your friends still live there?”

  “A few. But I was determined to get out. I wanted adventure.” She shook her head. “And boy did I get it in Amaryllis, Arkansas!”

  “It wasn’t what you expected, was it? Go get into your own clothes. You’ll feel better. Then go on down to the basement. I won’t lock the door tonight.”

  ****

  (Monday)

  At two o’clock, roused from a light sleep by the alarm clock, Penelope carried Abijah downstairs to the kitchen and woke Shana. “I’ll fix us something to eat,” Penelope said, depositing the cat on the floor. “Poor baby—you know something’s going on.”

  “Our last meal, as it were?”

  “Don’t say that.” Penelope shivered as she surveyed the contents of the refrigerator. “Ham or turkey?”

  “Ham.” Shana sniffed the duffle bag and carry-all she’d brought from Pembroke Point. “If they smelled like smoke, Sam would know we’d been out there.”

  “Do they?”

  “No.”

  “Mustard or mayonnaise?”

  “Mustard.”

  “I wonder if Sam will be hungry when he gets here.”

  Shana snorted. “I’d decide whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy before I fed him.”

  “I’ll make him a sandwich.” They were finishing their sandwiches when Sam came in without knocking.

  “How do you do that?” Penelope’s voice betrayed irritation. “The door was locked.”

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “As ready as we’ll ever be.” Penelope carried the paper plates and napkins to the trash.

  “Is that all?” Sam gestured at the two suitcases, duffle bag, and carry-all.

  “That’s it. Just how long are we going to be gone?”

  “That depends. Now listen to me—this is what you have to do. I have a van parked out back. I’ll take your luggage out. When you hear the van start up, come out in a hurry. Leave a light on over the stove, but turn off the overhead. Lock the door behind you. And don’t talk.”

  “Have you heard from Daddy today?”

  Sam shook his head. “He’s fine, just fine. Do you understand what to do?”

  “I think we might just comprehend.” The words dripped sarcasm.

  “Apparently you didn’t understand me before. I told you not to leave the house.”

  “I didn’t…”

  “You went to church the other evening, and tonight the two of you went to Pembroke Point.”

  Shana and Penelope exchanged guilty glances.

  “I won’t ask why you went out there, but I’ve got a pretty good idea. I assume you found what you were looking for.”

  Penelope put her lips together in silent defiance.

  “Well, never mind. We’ll talk about it another time.” He picked up the suitcases. “I’ll be back for the rest.”

  Penelope and Shana, covered with a scratchy and somewhat smelly army blanket, crouched on the floor in the back of the van,. By paying attention to the turns, Penelope thought she had some idea of where they were going and was gratified when Sam stopped and opened the door just a few yards from Rosedale Bridge. “That’s your vehicle,” he said, nodding at a late model white four-door. After he’d transferred the luggage, he handed Penelope a key. “I need your driver’s license and all your credit cards. Yours, too, Miss Bayliss. I’m sure you got your purse when you were at Pembroke Point tonight.”

  When he’d pocketed the plastic, he handed both of them replacements. “You’re mother and daughter traveling for pleasure. You can make up your own story, but get it straight. Use the names on the cards.

  Penelope scanned hers in the headlights. “Anne
Taliaferro?”

  Shana laughed. “Josie Taliaferro?”

  “Right. Use the credit cards for everything possible, but there’s a thousand dollars cash in this envelope.” He shoved a long envelope into Penelope’s hand. “All your instructions are written down in the glove compartment of the car.” He paused. “Do either of you have a cell phone?”

  Both women nodded.

  “Hand them over then.”

  “But…”

  Sam wiggled his fingers. “You’re wasting time.”

  He pocketed the phones. “Don’t answer the phone in your hotel room unless you know it’s me. That’s four rings, a hang-up, then three rings. And don’t, under any circumstances call out.”

  “Bradley will worry when he comes by and finds me gone.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  Penelope tried to read Sam’s face. “I want to trust you, but it’s getting harder and harder. This sort of cloak-and-dagger stuff isn’t my style.”

  “You don’t have any choice but to trust me. Now get in the car, read your instructions, and get out of here.”

  Whirling, he stalked back into the van, leaving the women standing speechless in the moonlight.

  ****

  “We’re going to Eureka Springs,” Shana read from the paper in the glove box. We have reservations at a hotel.”

  “For how long?”

  “A week. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard about it.”

  “It’s a lot of fun—and we’ve got a thousand dollars and a credit card.” Penelope laughed as she backed the car and pointed it toward the highway. “I’m not crazy about this whole idea, but we may as well make the most of it.”

  “So what’s our story? Why are we spending a week in Eureka Springs?”

  “You’re getting married, and we needed a break from all the preparations. How’s that?”

  “Who am I marrying?”

  “Anyone you want to.”

  “I should’ve married my high school sweetheart. He asked me half a dozen times.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Like I said, I wanted out. College, an exciting career…and Todd was happy just staying home and working on the farm with his father and older brother.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a bad life.”

  Shana sighed. “It sounds better and better with every tick of the clock.”

  ****

  They stopped for breakfast at an all-night restaurant before checking in to their hotel, where they went straight to bed. At noon, they woke, unpacked, and checked out the indoor pool. “I don’t have a swimsuit,” Penelope lamented. “I guess I could pick one up at Walmart. I’ll ask for directions at the desk.”

  They spent an hour browsing in the store. Penelope nixed the suit Shana suggested. “It’s indecent,” she said. “I never wore anything that skimpy in my life.”

  “You won’t see anyone you know.”

  “I’d be embarrassed to see myself in the mirror!” Penelope lifted a one-piece with a flared skirt from the rack. “This is more my style.”

  “Totally grandma.”

  “Which I hope to be someday.” Penelope tossed it into the basket. “I’m going to get one of those pay-as-you-go cell phones.”

  “Why? You can’t call anyone.”

  “Let’s just say I’ll feel more connected in an emergency.”

  “You didn’t bring George, did you?”

  “Of course, I did. He’s sleeping in my underwear in the drawer as we speak.”

  Shana burst out laughing. “The image that conjures up…”

  “Just keep it to yourself,” Penelope said. “Let’s go look at cell phones.”

  They paid cash for two. “In case we get separated somehow,” Penelope rationalized. “I feel better already.”

  ****

  Later they stopped at a Mexican restaurant, requesting the back booth despite the fact there were few patrons at four-thirty in the afternoon. “Tomorrow we’ll take the trolley downtown,” Penelope said. “The streets are narrow, and parking is at a premium. It’s easier to negotiate the business district on the trolley.”

  “That sounds fun.” Shana ordered a nacho sampler and a Margarita. “I’m not really a drinker,” she apologized, “but I need something tonight.”

  Penelope ordered beef fajitas and iced tea. “We may have been the only tee-totaling Irish Catholic family in the whole state,” she said. “Daddy likes a cold beer, but he doesn’t keep it at home.”

  “He goes to the Sit-n-Swill. Roger Sitton’s place.”

  “Right. You said Roger was at the Point a lot, but that strikes me as odd, because he and Travis weren’t close friends in school.”

  “Travis just said they were friends, that’s all.”

  “What did you think of Roger?”

  “I thought he was a little…well…prissy. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but compared to Travis, he definitely wasn’t a macho sort.”

  “Mary Lynn says he has lace on his drawers.”

  Shana startled, then began to giggle. “I hadn’t heard that in years. My granny used to say that about the man who ran the next farm. He was rich as Midas and had seven kids.”

  “When Roger came out, did he and Travis visit in the house?”

  “Sometimes, but they walked down to the gin a lot, too.”

  “Why do I keep picking up on the idea that the gin seemed to be the focus for whatever was going on?”

  Shana shrugged. “I thought it was odd, too.”

  Penelope dipped a tortilla chip into the bowl of hot sauce. “I snuck a look at Travis’s will. Bradley gets everything.”

  “He should.”

  “You know as well as I do Travis might have fathered more children.”

  Shana nodded. “I knew what he was. Why I hooked up with him…”

  “You can tell me it’s none of my business, but what happened between you and Bradley?”

  “I liked him, Mrs….sorry.” Shana looked around, but there was no one to overhear. “I really liked him, and we had some good times, but he was…I don’t know…overbearing sometimes. I guess he told me what to do once too often, and I told him goodbye.”

  “Do you think anything might have developed between the two of you?”

  “Marriage? I don’t think so. We were too different, and we both realized that. But like I said, we had some good times.”

  “How did you get started with Travis?”

  “Oddly enough, Brad introduced us. His father hit on me right in front of him.”

  “Figures.”

  “Brad said I should’ve cut him off, but to tell you the truth, I was flattered.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “You do?”

  “I married him, didn’t I? So that was the beginning of the end for you and Bradley?”

  “We had a big fight that night. When he took me home, I told him I thought we should let things go. He never called me again.”

  “He doesn’t take rejection well. His father rejected him.”

  “I know. He never said anything, but I could tell how much it hurt him.”

  “All of us got a bum rap,” Penelope said as the waitress set their plates in front of them. “And I’d like to rap that bum Sam and maybe Travis, too, if he’s still around.”

  “You think he is, don’t you? Because of the ring.”

  Penelope nodded. “I think he is.”

  ****

  Shana stopped in the hotel lobby to pick up some tourism brochures. “Like you said, now that we’re here, we may as well make the best of it.”

  They watched the six o’clock news, hoping for more information on the fire, the identity of the bodies, and any hint that Penelope had turned up missing. Nothing. Penelope hit the off button on the remote. “So what are we going to do tomorrow?”

  “All the shops sound wonderful.”

  “They are.”

  “And what about the haunted hotel?”

  Penelope laughed. “The C
rescent? I’ve been there a time or two. Never saw a ghost though.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Shana tossed a brochure across the space between the two beds. “There’s a night ghost tour.

  “I’m game.”

  “How about a swim now that you have a suit?” Shana wrinkled her nose. “Even if it is totally abominable.”

  Penelope felt a sudden fondness for the younger woman. Was this what having a daughter was like—the camaraderie, sharing secrets, being friends as well as relatives? She’d had a decent relationship with her son to a point, but the growing gulf between them wasn’t just because they were of opposite gender.

  “Why not? I could use some water therapy.”

  They changed and went downstairs to the pool. A family of four on the way out of the pool area left it deserted. “Hey, they have Happy Hour every afternoon at five,” Shana said, pointing to a hand-written sign on an easel. “We’ll have to come tomorrow.”

  Penelope tossed her towel on a near-by table and stood on the edge of the pool, testing the water with her toe. “It’s pretty warm.”

  “Last one in as a rotten…” Shana’s words were lost as she dived in headfirst.

  Penelope eased herself over the side from a sitting position. “Nice.” She lay on her back and paddled to the other side.

  For a while they floated in a silence broken only by the sound of the pumps and their own movements in the water. Penelope thought of Jake. Sam says he’s fine, but he’d say that no matter what, just to get me to cooperate with him. He said Bradley wouldn’t worry, which must mean that he and Bradley are working together. Or are they? Something about him bothers me. Shana says he came to Pembroke Point several times. Why? For the same reason Roger Sitton did, whatever that was? And he knew she was in danger and went looking for her. How does he know these things?

  She couldn’t shake the doubts about Sam…aka Tiny…aka Eldred Mooney Frish. Things aren’t always what they appear. Okay, I’ll concede that, but what are they? And how come I’m involved with whatever’s going on at the Point? Because of the men who spent the night at the B&B? Because I’m Travis’s ex-wife?

  She glanced at Shana paddling aimlessly across the pool. She should have married that boy back in Ohio. An affair with a man old enough to be her father will be something of a scarlet letter for a girl raised with conservative values in a small town. If anyone finds out, of course. I was raised the same way, and I did most things right, except for sleeping with Travis Pembroke before we were married. It only happened once, and I can’t blame him, not altogether. He wouldn’t have forced himself on me. Does the fact I married him make me any different…any better…than Shana?