The Death of Alan Chandler (The Red Lake Series Book 1)
Page 25
“Must have been off route 218. But that’s about fifteen miles west of here.”
“You know where we are?”
“Sure. I have my aero charts and I know where I went down give or take a quarter mile. It’s just I can’t hike out of here on this bum leg.”
“But you said it’s only fifteen miles, I could do that.”
“Maybe when your ankle gets better, son. But it wouldn’t do you much good heading that way. Alder creek is in a gorge that is damn near uncrossable. If you tried it alone, you could darn well drown even with a safety line. That’s especially true while the spring melt is on. You might cross it at the end of summer. Besides there aren’t any trails out that direction and the land is all turned up on end. You would do better to head east. It’s probably only ten miles as the crow flies to the Snake Back Ridge trail. From there it would be an easy thirty mile walk out.”
Alan’s hope of immediate rescue flickered and died out.
“Don’t look so damn discouraged boy. It ain’t that hard if you’ve got the will to do it.”
Karl served up the stew in bowls and passed one to Alan. The spoon felt alien in his hand after eating with his fingers for over two weeks. The meat was delicious. He couldn’t place the herbs or the meat but it was flavorful. Karl noticed Alan looking at the pot.
“Have some more, son. It looks like you’ve been to hell and back. You probably need it. You probably need another pain killer.”
While they ate Alan told Karl about his adventure in the woods. Karl nodded approvingly when he told of lighting his fires with the shaving cream can.
“It’s nice to see you ain’t one of these fool city boys who wouldn’t know what to do with a Sears catalog in an outhouse. But you sure could stand to learn a few things about being lost in the woods.”
Alan continued to tell of his misfortunes.
“It was the berries that got you. The onions smelled like onions didn’t they?”
Alan nodded in assent.
“Well then they were okay to eat. If they didn’t smell they would have likely been Death Camas and we wouldn’t be having this talk. But the way you describe them, you probably ate Yew berries. The whole thing can be poisonous, but most of the toxin is in the seeds. Taxine, as you have learned,” Karl said with a chuckle, “has a most disagreeable effect upon the human body.”
The two men chatted for a while more but Alan found he could barely keep his eyes open. Finally in mid-sentence he drifted off to sleep. As to Karl, he added some wood to the fire and sat contemplating the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lilly had never known such wanton desire. For two days they had scarcely left their bed. They reveled in a romp of carnality, restricted only by fatigue. She found a freedom and license she had never shared with Alan. Charles demanded nothing from her and that left her eager and willing to take. In the little death, Lilly found escape from the legal troubles that threatened her. In his embrace she could accept and actually hope that Alan was never coming back. The house and Charles well moneyed lifestyle appealed to the poor girl in her.
Lilly was in the kitchen toasting a bagel. They were taking a badly needed respite. She found herself fingering the edge of the finely embroidered silk gown that clung to her body. Charles had casually pulled it out of the guest room closet. She turned to the darkened window and looked at her reflection in the glass. Her hands ran down her body smoothing the wine colored silk. The toaster popped startling her. She spun around and the gown opened. Feeling far more comfortable with herself than she could ever remember, she let it hang open. As she buttered the bagel she found that she was hoping that Alan was dead!
Charles lie on the bed upstairs feeling spent. For his part he had started down a path of amusement that had turned into desire, which had become possession. Now to his surprise he had the inclination to own. As a man whose business had been asset acquisitions, marriage seemed merely a merger or perhaps a takeover of two interests. Finding himself thinking of marriage, the thought of Lilly’s husband turning up became insufferable. At best it would be inconvenient, at worst Chandler might fight a divorce. Charles could imagine monetary demands from the aggrieved spouse. At best Chandler would cause delays waiting for a messy divorce to be final. As he watched Lilly’s curvaceous body returning to his bed, armed with her snack from the kitchen he thought, Chandler cannot come back!
Outside, it was a moonless night. The air was warm with the first hint of summer humidity. Overhead the stars sparkled like tiny diamonds scattered on black velvet. Across the river Mick Delaney watched the Blain house, whose upstairs windows glowed like larger brighter jewels. He put his eye to a telescope, mounted on the tripod in front of him. The instrument was designed for studying the moon. At this distance Mick suddenly felt as if his face were pressed against the window glass. He had been taking a smoke when he saw the light switch off downstairs, now he saw Lilly sweep into the room. She spun around playfully. The gown spread out and he had a glimpse of flesh. Presumably she was preening for Charles but Mick was unable to see him. It was like watching a silent movie as Lilly ate the bagel and mouthed silent words between bites. She moved with a playful motion that both tantalized and pleased. Mick could well understand Charles’s desire for her. This woman seemed a far cry from the rather reserved one that he had talked with.
Lilly turned and rushed toward Mick, the gown hanging open.
Unconsciously he stepped back and suddenly he was across the river again. On the Blain house the French doors of the bedroom balcony swung open. Lilly stepped out and stretched out her arms. Mick put his eye to the scope. Even though he was a cop, he was not immune to the voyeuristic instinct. Lilly was darkly shadowed in the center of the scope. The bright lights of the room made it harder to see. But then the intensity of the light was eclipse as someone came up behind her. Arms slipped around her waist and then roamed over her body. Charles face appeared leaning over her shoulder. The scope went black briefly, and a shutter clicked, as Mick pushed the button for the integrated camera. He depressed the shutter again and the auto-drive whirred as it snapped a montage of pictures. Lilly embraced from behind. Lilly’s robe slipped off, baring her shoulders. Lilly naked, with Charles clutching her. The two turned sideways to the camera. The embrace. The kiss. And Cut!
The lovers disappeared into the room. Mick rubbed his eyes. He took a deep breath of the night air. The pornographic quality of what he had just watched lingered with him. Quickly he dis-assembled the scope and put it away. He had done far better than either he or Maddox could have hoped. They had positive proof that Lilly and Charles were having an affair. Blain may not have flat out lied but he had strained to give the impression that Lilly and he were merely business associates. Mick looked across the river at Blain’s house. Jealousy momentarily rippled the surface of his thoughts. Some people had it made! The Blain estate was a long ways from a cop’s salary. Unconsciously he had a desire to take it all away from them!
The next morning Maddox found Delaney waiting for him in his office. An electronic picture frame sat in the middle of his desk.
“You look like the cat that got the canary,” said Maddox as he dropped into his desk chair.
“Check this out. I didn’t want to download them into the department computers unless we want to use them.” Delaney reached over and switched on the digital picture frame. Maddox watched the slide show without initial comment other than raising his eyebrows.
“Print number five. We can see his face clearly. We can see all of her. And his hands certainly show their intent. Nice work Mick! Just don’t leave those lying about. I don’t need problems with the D.A.’s office over them being passed around.”
Maddox leaned back in his chair and pondered the ceiling while Delaney waited.
“I think we’ll go visit them this morning and roust them out of bed.”
A half-hour later Maddox and Delaney pulled up to the gates of the Blain Estate just as the gardener was just entering. They dr
ove in directly behind his van.
“Perfect, the element of surprise. I had forgotten about the gates.”
They stopped in the motor court and soon were leaning steadily on the doorbell. It was some minutes before Charles opened the door. He wore a bathrobe and slippers and his normally well-groomed looks were rather tousled.
“Fire your butler, Mr. Chandler?”
“He’s on vacation. It’s a little early for me. I had a late night. I think this can wait until later.” He began to close the door and then added, “Oh yes, why don’t you call first?”
Maddox stopped the door by pushing his hand against the frame. “I only bothered you in that, you bailed Lilly Chandler out of jail, I thought you had an interest.” With that he turned to leave.
“What about Lilly?”
“You are just business associates, correct? Are you sure there might not be more to it?”
“For the record, officer, she is working for me. Mrs. Chandler is my designer and we consequently spend a great deal of time together.”
Maddox nodded. “Well if it is like that, it might be out of place for me to talk with you about the questions I had. So sorry to disturb you.”
Just as Charles was closing the door, Maddox stopped him. He handed a manila envelope toward Charles. “Would you mind giving this to Mrs. Chandler when you see her? She doesn’t seem to be at home and in that you work together you might see her before we do.”
Charles took the envelope and closed the door more firmly than was necessary.
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall when they open that,” Delaney said with a grin.
Inside the front hall, Blain watched the two policemen drive off. Charles was tempted to peek in the envelope but it was thoroughly sealed. In the kitchen he made coffee and breakfast. He laid the food out on a serving tray and next to the plate he put the envelope and a rose from the bouquet on the kitchen table on top of it. When he entered the bedroom upstairs Lilly lay sprawled across the bed. The satin sheets forming attractive curves and mounds over her. Charles kissed her cheek. Sex and a lot of it seemed to agree with her. This morning she looked radiant. Lilly opened her eyes and coyly smiled.
“I was trying to go back to sleep,” she purred. “Who was at the door?”
Charles did not immediately answer, instead he pulled over a custom made mahogany hospital table and set the tray down in front of her. “Voila!”
Lilly cried with delight. “You made breakfast! How did you know that I am famished?”
She picked up the rose and sniffed it with exaggerated dramatic effect. “Thank you! And what’s this?” she asked quizzically while picking up the envelope.
“I don’t know. That came to the door. It was the police looking for me or perhaps for you. They asked me to give it to you when I saw you.
Charles moved discreetly away despite his curiosity about the contents. Lilly pealed the envelope open. She pulled out a single sheet of paper and immediately made a small gasp as she sucked in her breath. Then as the full scope of the photo became clear to her she shrieked and hopped up. The table spun away and the tray flew off scattering coffee, dishes and food across the broad bed. “Oh my God,” she cried and in hysterics rushed into Charles arms. He held her tight, but over her shoulder he could see the 8x10 photo lying on the floor. It was a rather good shot of her, but when his eyes tracked away from her breasts and he realized it was he with her, he silently cursed to himself.
It took some time for Charles to calm Lilly down. Between her crying and babbling on about police harassment, he found himself wondering what life might be like day in and day out with Lilly. Perhaps he had rushed in a bit too fast. He knew he had stepped in it, so to speak, with the police. What had been an amusing game of tease the coppers was now a real life problem of being sucked into a murder investigation. Charles had no illusions about why the police had come to his door. Between the photo and the ticket he had gotten near Red Lake, he was sure to be thought an accomplice, if not the prime suspect. Unlike last night Charles found himself urgently hoping that Alan Chandler would come back. It was the only sure way to put the police case to rest and it would take Lilly out of his house, while he reconsidered whether or not he wished to pursue the relationship.
When at last Lilly regained her composure Charles took charge.
“The only way we are going to be rid of the police is to find your husband!”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Well, you said you knew Alan would never leave without talking it out.”
“He always wanted to talk things through. It is one thing I really hated!”
“So, I think we can presume he’s dead! You told the police that he was probably going to your cabin at Red Lake. So let’s assume you are right. Something happened between here and there.”
“But the police already checked. They said they even flew it with helicopters!”
“I don’t care!” said Charles, his acrimony showing. “We will check every inch of that road on foot if we have to. We really must find him!”
“But why?” asked Lilly. “I don’t think I really want him back.”
“Because the police probably think I helped you dump the body! Now tell me what the hell really happened that night”, he yelled.
“I don’t know. I was drinking and Alan was unhappy. He kept goading me. I don’t know if he was trying to pick a fight but we ended up having a terrific row. I came unglued. At that moment I hated him for everything that was wrong in my life. The last thing I remember was throwing dishes at him. They seemed to float through the air in slow motion and then explode on the floor around his feet. The next thing I knew it was morning and I was in bed. When I came downstairs there was blood on the floor.”
Charles inwardly wondered if this was actually the truth but outwardly he hid his doubts. “Well if you awoke in bed then you must not have hurt him. Plus we know he bought gas outside of town. I think we should start there. Despite the efforts of the boys in blue, I think Alan, his car, credit cards, and phone is somewhere between here and Red Lake.”
A short time later a subdued Charles and Lilly were leaving town in Charles’s 4-wheel drive truck. They sped across the flatland outside of town. “Are you sure it’s okay to leave town?” he asked.
“Why? Are you worried about your $500,000 bail?” She watched Charles face but it was noncommittal.
“I just wouldn’t want them to revoke your bail.”
A residual tension hung between them. The euphoria of sated sexuality had faded to the more mundane concerns of murder. Both retreated into an inner space and private thoughts. They did not speak again until they came to the gas station. Charles rolled past the pumps and stopped by the store of the station. The youth who ran the pumps was only slightly less surly than he had been with Officer Lane. But Charles used a different approach. He offered the youth a hundred dollars for anything he was able to tell him about the man who bought gas that Sunday.
While they spoke a sedan pulled up to the pumps. The driver stepped out and raised the hood.
“Can I help you?” the boy called over. The driver shook his head. “Naw, I just wanted to check my oil before I went over the pass. I’ve got plenty of gas.” The driver busied himself under the hood while the gas station attendant tried to describe a generic man while hinting that more money might help. Blain suspected he was being hustled so he opened his wallet and pulled out five one hundred dollar bills. He offered the money in exchange for an exact description of the car and of Alan Chandler. There was longing for the money in the boy’s eyes, but the kid finally said he didn’t know. Charles put the money back in his wallet, but he did take out a twenty and poked it into the boy’s pocket. “Thanks for trying.” Behind them they heard a car hood slam closed. The engine started. By the time they were back in the pick-up, the other car had disappeared up the road.
Lilly and Charles began a slow trip up the mountain. They drove down dirt roads that led to locked gates. They
walked the shoulder of the road whenever they came to a curve. If there was dense brush down a bank they hiked down to be sure Alan’s car was not buried in it. As they walked, cars rushed past pushing a blast of air. Horns sounded when Charles’ pick-up was parked too far out on the road. A State trooper pulled over on the opposite side. He asked if they needed help. Charles said they were fine, just looking for arrowheads. The Patrolman nodded and pulled away. They both found it surprising how many small turnoffs presented themselves. They bounced down old logging roads until they petered out or were far enough from the highway that it seemed unlikely Alan’s car would be there.
The task moved slowly. Curves that normally passed unnoticed became potential crash sites. It was only when they were in the open that they were able to move quickly. If Alan’s car was out in some field the helicopter would have seen it. By one o’clock they were both hungry and a little tired, yet they were still only into the foothills of the mountain. They had spent three hours covering a distance that normally took fifteen minutes.
The day was warm. The sense of crises brought on by the police had faded and they were starting to enjoy themselves. Charles turned down a dirt lane and parked under the trees away from the road. They brought out a blanket and picnic basket from their car’s trunk and spread out on the grass. A sense of playfulness reentered their conversations as they assured each other that they would succeed where the police had failed. Lilly pulled the cork from an unfinished bottle of red wine she had found in the kitchen. They sipped $100 wine from paper cups and ate their sandwiches. Lilly moved over next to Charles and leaned against him. One thing led to another and soon they had lost another hour of the day.
*
The sedan that had stopped at the gas station was driven by an out of uniform Beaumont police officer. Maddox had him in position when they left the Blain estate. The instructions were fairly simple; he was to use his own car, not one with an aerial and the obvious black wall tires. If and when Blain left the house he should discreetly follow them. Maddox’s last words to him were, “Don’t lose them!”