Throw Dylan from the Train (S.A.F.E. Detective Agency)

by Piper Davenport

  “Gone,” she replied between sobs. “He...he dumped me and took off.”

  I swore under my breath and hugged my friend. It was a good thing Jake was gone, because I’d kick him in the teeth if he was still there. Addison cried herself out of tears, and then mopped up the mess and sighed. We sat in silence for a few minutes while I tried to think of something that could cheer her up or distract her. Then I remembered the reason I’d come out to find her in the first place.

  I grabbed my laptop and gave Addison a rundown on the conversation I’d had with my dad while I searched for private investigators in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Klamath was about a hundred miles from Lakeview, and despite its population of a whopping twenty-one thousand, it was referred to as “the city,” since it was the closest larger town. I scanned the results of my search, and they did not look promising.

  “Why don’t we do it?” Addison asked, still looking a little dazed.

  She had to be messing with me. “Are you serious?”.

  “Yeah. I turned in everything for our current case to Ethan, and he said he doesn’t have anything else for us yet. To be honest, I’m kinda relieved. I don’t know if I’m ready to take on another divorce case yet after Greg. I’d love to get out of here for a while and finally see your home town.”

  “I don’t know, Addie. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Addison fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Why not?”

  “So many reasons. To start with, Lakeview is more than six hours away.”

  “We do have cars,” she countered. “Mine’s even dependable.”

  “Secondly, the population is two thousand, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. There’s no shopping centers, no fine dining, there aren’t even any hotels. Staying with my dad is off the table, so we’d have to stay in a motel. That’s motel, with an ‘M.’ Have you ever stayed in a motel in your life?”

  She suppressed a shudder. “No, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, it’s not like it would take us forever to solve the case. I can rough it and be a country girl for a few days.”

  She said this with a straight face, while sitting on her plush carpet in her million-dollar condo, wearing silk pajamas that required dry cleaning and cost as much as my car, and I lost it. My home town wouldn’t even know what to do with her, and she would probably go into culture shock and die the minute we passed the “Tallest Town in Oregon” sign.

  Addison joined me on the sofa. “Stop laughing at me. I could totally survive your home town.”

  The hurt look on her face silenced my laughter. “Addie, it’s not you, it’s Lakeview. It’s...difficult to explain. Everyone in town will know we’re there, and we’ll have to deal with my dad, my crazy uncle Ron, my grandma, and that bitch Brandy who used to torment me.”

  “It’s been years since you’ve been back, Dylan. People change. Besides, I’d love to meet Brandy right about now. It would give me a chance to work off some of this rage I feel toward Jake.”

  I opened my calendar, wishing some important appointment would appear and make it impossible to leave town, but other than plans made with Asher my schedule was depressingly clear. The date piqued my interest, though. “Crap. We can’t go. It’s almost Labor Day.”

  “So?” she asked.

  “Labor day weekend is when they hold the fair and Roundup. It’s the biggest event the town has each year. The motels are probably all booked up.”

  “Roundup? Isn’t that like a rodeo? Is that where you used to barrel race?” she asked.

  A few years after Addison and I had become friends, I’d had a moment of insanity and shown her my barrel racing ribbons. She’d called me “Cowgirl” for months afterward, making me want to lobotomize her so she’d give it a rest. I was no cowgirl, at least, not anymore. I’d moved to Portland to get away from that life. Refusing to associate myself with the answer, I replied, “There is barrel racing during the roundup.”

  “Ohmigod!” she squealed. “Dylan, this is just what I need to get over Jake.”

  Rubbing my temples, I asked, “What is, exactly?”

  She looked at me like I was stupid. “Hot cowboys, horseback riding, and a new case. It’s perfect. We will be able to ride horses, right? You know I haven’t ridden in over a year, not since Tizzie died.”

  Addison’s beloved Friesian had developed colic and the vets weren’t able to save him. That gelding had helped her win every jumping and dressage competition all over the country for close to ten years. They were inseparable...partly why she hadn’t had the heart to buy another horse.

  “I’m sure we can rent a couple of horses. That would actually be fun. I miss riding,” I admitted.

  “Great.” She clapped her hands. “Then you can introduce me to all your hot cowboy friends.”

  I groaned, wishing she would let it go. I understood Addison’s infatuation with cowboys, because the media romanticized the hell out of them. But the cowboys I knew usually had Copenhagen dripping down their chins and smelled like stale whisky and horse manure. “Addie, a few months ago you couldn’t handle ten minutes in my white-trash apartment, and we’re talking about days—maybe even a week or so—deep in redneck territory.”

  “F.Y. information, I was the one who spent almost an hour packing up your apartment. Plus I love you and it’s where you came from, so how bad could it be?”

  How bad indeed. “Bad. Trust me on this one.”

  “No. I need out of this city for a while, and those little old ladies clearly need our help. We’re going.”

  Knowing there was no way I was getting out of it, I sighed. “Fine. When do you want to leave?”

  Addison

  I WAS FAR too upset about Jake to sleep, so Dylan and I stayed up most of the night packing and preparing for our trip. Even though she wouldn’t admit it, I think she was a little excited about going home. Lakeview had always filled her with complex emotions of both longing and loathing. I didn’t get it, but hoped for better insight once I finally saw the place.

  We slept in, then Asher brought us lunch and saw us off. This sweet act by my brother made my chest feel like an elephant was sitting on it. I wished Jake was there. I wished he wasn’t such a stupid head. I wished he...well, I wished a lot of things. But I was destined to be disappointed, so I kept it all to myself.

  “Be careful,” Asher said, leaning in through Dylan’s window to kiss her again. “No getting kidnapped or shot at. Either of you. And call me when you get there.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I sassed.

  Asher scowled at me, and added, “And hurry back.”

  “We’re going to the most boring place on earth,” Dylan said. “There probably isn’t even a thief. I bet one of the seniors with Alzheimer’s is accidentally wandering in the rooms of other people and taking things they believe are theirs. We’ll have this case solved and be back before you know it.”

  Personally, I was hoping the case would take us at least a week. “All right, lovebirds, we need to get on the road. We’ll call you, Ashey. Now get your head out of my window so I can drive.”

  He gave Dylan one last kiss, straightened, and waved us out of the garage.

  Dylan navigated, leading us out of civilization and over the picturesque beauty of Mount Hood to a desert town where the dirt was red and the trucks were lifted. We stopped for dinner at a steakhouse with a giant carved bear out front.

  “This isn’t bad,” I said, taking in the scenery. “A little dry and rustic, and I don’t see any really good places to shop, but it’s not as bad as you made it sound.”

  “This is Bend,” Dylan replied. “We’re still three hours away. This is where girls from town would come to prom or wedding dress shop. This was basically our Portland.”

  After dinner, Dylan drove us on two-lane roads through more trees and over more desert. We continued for three hours and saw maybe forty cars on the road.

  “Traffic’s a little heavy on account of the fair,” Dylan explained between pointing out landmarks
like the Sleeping Indian Princess (a series of mountains), and Picture Rock Pass (a sheer pass with a gravel side road leading to petroglyphs).

  “I feel like we’re driving through one of those old-time westerns,” I said. “Any minute now, Billy the Kid and Sundance Cassidy are going to ride onto the road with rifles and hold us up. And that—” I pointed to a loose ball of weeds bouncing across the road. “Ohmigod, that’s a tumbleweed, isn’t it?”

  Dylan gave me a tight grin. “I tried to tell you.” Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and her posture was rigid.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s just been a while.”

  I could only remember Dylan going back once since she turned eighteen. “That time right after graduation...was that the last time you were home?”

  She nodded. “Yep. It was the longest two weeks of my life. Dad thought I would stay since I was done with school. I’d told him I was going to Portland to get my degree, but then I just kinda stayed. I’m sure the guilting will be epic. I’m warning you now.”

  “He expected you to come back? Does your dad know you at all?” I asked.

  “He knows who he wants me to be.”

  It was the type of answer I expected from Dylan. My bestie wasn’t exactly a pushover, but she was anti-drama and anti-conflict to the point of sacrificing her own wants to appease others. I used to argue with her about it, but now I understood her easy nature better, so I focused my energy on making sure nobody took advantage of her.

  “So is bipolar Dylan going to come out?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not like that. I just...I might get a little more hickish.”

  I gasped. “Oh God, there’s another level?”

  “Ha-ha,” she deadpanned.

  A little after eight we crested a hill, revealing a valley of lights. “This is Lakeview?” I asked. When Dylan nodded, I said, “Looks bigger than you described.”

  “It’s spread out. A lot of farms and ranches.”

  “So what do people do for fun here?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “During winter, people ski. In the summer there’s the community pool, fishing, hang gliding...”

  “Hang gliding?” I asked.

  “Yep. We’re kinda famous for it...something about the winds and the elevation. They jump from that mountain, right there.” She pointed to the dark shape behind the town.

  “Did you ever go hang gliding?” I asked.

  “It’s expensive. We couldn’t afford it. Besides, Dad would have flipped had I tried.”

  “But you wanted to jump off a mountain while wearing a giant kite?” I asked.

  “Spend enough time here, you’ll want to jump too.” Dylan grimaced. “With or without the giant kite.”

  Any trace of excitement Dylan had shown earlier was gone. Despite everything she’d gone through, she was usually a glass-is-half-full type person. When life kicked her in the teeth, she learned how to make a mouth guard. But the strained look on her face told me how difficult this trip was for her. Alarmed, I asked, “What’s the real reason you left this place?”

  “Everyone knows everyone here, and gossiping comes as natural as breathing, I swear.”

  “Everyone has to deal with gossips,” I replied. My mother’s inner circle was full of the biggest gossips I’d ever met. Seriously, those women needed a hobby.

  Dylan nodded. “I get that. I just...did I ever tell you about Toby?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I can remember.”

  “I never really fit in here, so I kinda kept to myself. Then in fifth grade there was this group of girls headed up by Brandy Standke, and they were brutal. They teased me for being such a goody two shoes. I got sick of it and skipped school one day to prove them wrong. Turns out an unpopular boy by the name of Toby Lewis chose that day for his pre-teen act of rebellion as well. Toby and I weren’t close, but Brandy and her crew spread the rumor that he and I were sleeping together, and we took the day off so his mom could drive me to Klamath to get an abortion.”

  I gasped. “But you were only in fifth grade! Had you even started your period yet?”

  “Nope. They didn’t care. Neither did anyone who helped them spread the rumor. It was bad, Addie. That’s when I started researching ways to get out of here and came across the boarding school in Portland.”

  Dylan and I had met in sixth grade, when she transferred to my school as a scholarship student.

  “Aw, buddy. That sounds awful. Brandy is...was such a douchebag...but female.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan chuckled. “She’s a...a douche-hag.”

  “Ohmigod, that’s perfect!” I laughed. “What are the odds we’ll run into her?”

  “There’s two thousand people in town. If she’s still here, the odds are pretty good.”

  “I’ve got your back. If she starts anything, I will deal with her, and she’ll wish she’d never been born.”

  Dylan gave me the first real smile since we’d started this road trip. “I’m not sure that makes me feel better.”

  “You’re smiling and your knuckles have lost their white pallor.” I shifted in my seat. “It absolutely makes you feel better.”

  We passed a bizarre welcome sign, a giant wooden cowboy holding a pistol in the air. The lettering at his feet read “Tallest town in Oregon.”

  “Welcome to Lakeview,” Dylan said. “Weird. Those train tracks are new.”

  “Train tracks aren’t exactly unusual, Dylan.”

  “Here they are. Amtrak doesn’t even come out here. We have some train tracks out behind the school, but they aren’t used anymore. The old station was turned into a house.”

  Well maybe that was strange to Dylan, but no more so than the mostly deserted road that never got any wider than two lanes. Beyond the sign was a residential district full of older homes. Then we pulled into the driveway of what looked like a rundown church. “What’s this?”

  “The newest inn.”

  “Huh?” I asked, leaning forward to get a better look out the windshield.

  “This is the fanciest place to stay in Lakeview, Addie. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I’m totally fine. I was just clarifying.”

  “Hm-mmm,” Dylan mumbled.

  I forced my snobbishness away. I’m sure the place was clean and simple, which was the most important thing at the moment, so once Dylan parked the car, I plastered on a big smile and climbed out.

  “Let’s leave the luggage until we’re checked in,” Dylan suggested.

  “Of course,” I said. “Why would we take it?”

  Dylan stalled. “Um, Addie, we’re going to have to drag your fifty-two bags up to the room, so we should probably find out where said room is before we do that.”

  I gaped at her. “We have to take it to our room?”

  “Yes. Who else would?”

  “Um...hello...the bellhop maybe?”

  Dylan bent over and started to laugh hysterically. I realized I might have to admit I was a little out of my depth here. “Oh, bite me, Dylan. Let’s just check in.”

  I followed my bestie monster (bonster...mestie) into the ho...motel and was delighted to discover they took credit cards. I was a little nervous I was going to have to plop down cash and pay by the hour. Dylan pulled her wallet out of her purse, but I shook my head. “Business expense. I’ve got this.”

  I was glad she didn’t even attempt to argue. I was too tired to fight. And I was suddenly depressed again. Luckily I’d brought a case of my favorite wine just in case I needed to drink myself to sleep. I knew I’d need something to force me into some form of a comatose state, because the weight on my chest was killing me. I missed Jake. A lot.

  “Here’s your card,” the reception clerk said, and slid it across the desk.

  “Thanks, ah”—I glanced at her name tag—“Molly.”

  “No problem. You have adjoining rooms. Just go right out that door, hang a left, and you’ll be the third and fourth room on t
he ground floor. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Hey, what’s with the train tracks?” Dylan asked.

  Molly looked Dylan over. “I know you. You’re Chad James’s kid, right?”

  Dylan shuffled her feet.

  “Yeah, I remember you. I used to be Molly Burns. My little brother Nolan was in your grade.”

  Dylan nodded. “I remember Nolan. How is he?”

  “He married Jessica Lentz, and they popped out a couple of kids before she got all messed up on meth and cheated on him with the electrician. They divorced a few months ago.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah. And did you hear about Beth Davenport? She’s on meth, too, and—”

  “Actually, we just drove down from Portland and I’m exhausted. We’ll have to catch up later,” Dylan said, shuffling me toward the door.

  “Will you know everyone here?” I asked.

  “Most likely.” She groaned. “And they will all want to fill me in on the latest gossip and let me know who the newest meth-heads are. She never did answer my question about the train tracks, but I am not going back in there.”

  We walked back to the car and drove around to the rooms, parking directly in front of my door. I backed in and we very easily wheeled (no dragging necessary) my bags inside. Granted, Dylan had to help me, but she did it with very little complaining. Almost.

  “Exactly why do you need so many bags?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

  I opened my smallest bag and pulled out my blue light. “I’ll show you.” I clicked on the light and ran it over the top of the motel comforter.

  Dylan gasped. “What is that?”

  “That my dear friend, is a copious amount of bodily fluids.”

  “What kind of bodily fluids?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked as I stripped the bed.

  Dylan made a gagging sound. “Oh, that is so gross.”

  Throwing the motel bedding in the corner, I opened my largest suitcase. “This is why I have to bring so many bags.”

  I pulled out sheets and one of my down comforters, remaking the bed the way Yolanda had taught me (even though we had maids). My nanny had insisted I learn how to do it so I could at least act like a functioning member of society.