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ASH AND BONE
Lisa von Biela
First Edition
Ash and Bone © 2014 by Lisa von Biela
All Rights Reserved.
A DarkFuse Release
www.darkfuse.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Other Books by Author
The Genesis Code
The Janus Legacy
Check out the author’s official page at DarkFuse for a complete list:
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For David, with love
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to everyone at DarkFuse for their support, hard work, and dedication to producing high-quality dark fiction. Thank you to my readers, whose enthusiastic reception of The Genesis Code helped make The Janus Legacy and this novella possible. And a special shout-out to the DarkFuse community of Book Club members and fellow authors for their support, encouragement, and camaraderie.
NOW
Dampness, biting and without mercy, trickled down the back of his neck. He raised his coat collar to fend it off. Too late. Its icy fingers already invaded his skin, his bones, his very core.
Street lamps stood along the wooden pedestrian bridge like a row of inanimate guards. A chilling mist, too cowardly to turn to rain, muted their light. A conspiracy between that mist and his cataracts created a vista of blurred halos against the black of night.
He staggered a short way along the bridge, eyes cast down to watch his footing on the uneven, slippery wooden planks. Stopping beneath one of the tall, glistening black metal lamps, he gazed down at the small harbor below. The street lamps—but nothing more—reflected in the impenetrably dark water.
Oil and toxic chemicals polluted that frigid harbor. Rickety, poorly maintained fishing boats dominated the wharf, and no one in town gave a shit about spending money to clean it up. The stench of diesel and creosote hung heavy in the air.
The whole town stank of rot. As did his soul.
He’d kept his secret for years. No one alive knew what really happened that day. No one had deprived him of the spoils of his acts. Whatever remorse he’d felt at the time had been tucked away so thoroughly he couldn’t recall it at all.
But that emotional wall had been breached and was crumbling from the terrible weight of its burden. Now the vile poison of guilt began to seep like a thick, gangrenous slime. He could almost feel it forcing its way out of his very pores, spreading onto his skin.
He felt every bit as odious as the water below that slapped its filth against the docks.
Unexpected movement at the periphery of his vision startled him out of his reverie. He turned his head and spotted someone walking in his direction on the other side of the road. Angry, he clutched the rail so tightly his knuckles screamed in arthritic pain. He’d purposely chosen to come late at night to be alone. He silently cursed the approaching stranger.
Now he’d have to decide quickly.
A YEAR AGO
Eileen Maroni saw her life as a series of really great breaks and really shitty breaks. Her luck never ran lukewarm. Like right now, for instance. That drug deal back in Arizona had gone south, landing her in the can for a while as an accessory. But, on the other hand, she was out now, and thanks to a little bit of forethought on her part, she had a nice little pile of cash to fall back on that she’d managed to hide away.
Now she just had to think of how to use it to set herself up and not risk another stint again. A stable life where she could just mind her own business and make a living seemed attractive, now that she’d hit her mid-forties. But with her record, traditional employment would prove elusive. Besides, she just wasn’t the office-girl type.
Smiling to herself, she drove up the California coast in her RAV4. The car didn’t attract unwanted attention, and it had enough space to let her take what she needed on the road. The back contained her most essential belongings; what didn’t fit sat in storage back in Arizona for now.
“Take it easy, Beau.” Eileen gently fended off the dog’s insistent attempts to lick her face while she was driving. Beau had won her heart the minute she’d laid eyes on him at the pound, and they’d become best road buddies since setting off from Arizona together. She thought his name was a stupid one for a dog, but it was what he was used to, and who was she to rock his world with a name change at his age? She figured they were two of a kind, both ex-jailbirds. “Stay in the backseat, you.”
A sign ahead announced the speed limit had dropped to 45, and Eileen complied. No sense needlessly attracting a cop. She’d had her fill of them, that’s for sure.
Two things happened when she hit the edge of town. The speed limit fell to 30, and the sun disappeared behind a cloak of cloud cover, taking all its warmth with it. Rust gnawed at the edges of the metal sign that put a name to the gloomy place.
Cromwell Bay.
She grunted. Not a very picturesque-sounding name for a place on the coast. Once she entered the town and saw what it had to offer, she decided the name suited it admirably.
Cromwell Bay appeared to be a tough little working town on the waterfront, about as far from being a tourist trap as Eileen could imagine. No yachts or playtime boats for those with money to burn. Instead, the bay featured a ramshackle assemblage of stained-looking docks beside which some ugly old fishing trawlers sat bobbing in the water. That was the view on her left.
On her right stood a row of run-down houses. Weeds grew tall through cracks in the sidewalks and driveways. Roofs hung in tatters, gutters sagged. None of them appeared to have seen a fresh layer of paint in the last fifty years. Dark, grimy windows—many of them cracked—stared back at her like lifeless eyes.
After several blocks of such mean shacks, downtown presented itself. A small grocery store kicked things off, festooned with those old-fashioned, hand-painted paper banners proclaiming the day’s specials. A couple of other miscellaneous businesses and a small hardware store lined up next to the grocery store. No tourist wares here.
A little bit farther on the right stood The Cannery. Judging from the neon beer signs in the two otherwise-dark front windows, it appeared to be a bar and grill. It also appeared to be the hub of the town, the only establishment that showed any signs of life on this dark, dreary early afternoon.
Eileen hadn’t eaten all day, and considered making a late lunch stop at The Cannery as she continued touring Cromwell Bay’s main drag. It might be a real trip in there.
An old motel up ahead on the right offered an easily accessible driveway and parking lot. As she pulled in and started to turn around to head back to The Cannery, she noticed the For Sale sign in the window. It aroused her
curiosity.
“Stay put for a minute.” She stopped the car and got out, barely managing to keep the enthusiastic Beau from loping after her. She walked up to the motel’s office window for a closer look at the sign. It gave the Realtor’s phone number, but didn’t list the price or much other detail. The faded ink made it look like it had been there a while. Eileen cupped her hands over her eyes and pressed them against the window to peer inside.
The office appeared to be in decent shape, though a thick layer of dust coated all the surfaces. The calendar on the wall was from two years ago. This place had been sitting on the market for a while. She wondered why, and was amazed it wasn’t loaded with graffiti or stripped, given the beat-down look of the town.
Eileen stepped back from the office window and surveyed the rest of the property. It was just one of those little one-story jobs, like something out of the ’50s. It had only eight rooms, plus an owner’s residence behind the office.
She walked alongside the front of the building and inspected it more closely. Like everything else in town, it could use some paint, but the doors looked solid and not like they’d been tampered with. She peered inside one of the rooms through a gap between the curtains. It featured a bed with a bare mattress, a small desk, a chair, and a chest of drawers with a TV on top. Amazing the place hadn’t been looted long ago.
Eileen returned to her car and reached inside for her cell phone. She tapped in the Realtor’s number and gazed at the building while she waited for someone to answer.
“Coastline Realty, Shelley Armstrong speaking. How may I help you?”
Eileen explained that she had happened by the motel and wanted more information.
A pause. “You mean the old Harbor Motel?”
Eileen glanced up at the sign. “Yep.”
“Well, um, sure. I can meet you out there in, say, fifteen minutes. Would that work for you?”
“Yes, thanks.” Eileen ended the call, leaned against the driver’s door of her car and gathered her thoughts while she waited for Shelley to arrive.
* * *
After a short while, an older Camry with dull blue paint drove up. A petite, middle-aged woman in faded jeans and a bulky sweater emerged from the car. Eileen suppressed a smirk as she compared her to the stereotypical Realtor image: nice clothes, nice car, meticulous grooming. Not so much in Cromwell Bay, it would seem.
The woman came right up to her and offered her hand. “Hi, name’s Shelley.” She flinched and stepped back when Beau began barking furiously from within the car, his foaming saliva spattering the inside of the driver’s-side window.
“He’s okay, don’t worry. So, what’s the story with this motel?”
Shelley regained her poise after a moment and slipped into sales mode. “Well, for the right person, this could be a sweet little investment property. See, it’s the only lodging actually within the town of Cromwell Bay. Next closest is up the road about fifty miles. They have a couple of the smaller chains up there.” She led Eileen to the office, unlocked the door, and motioned for her to follow. “The previous owner passed away a couple of years ago. No heirs. The estate owns the property now, and I’m sure the executor would be amenable to a good deal to liquidate it.”
“How well equipped is it? You know, like furnishings and such.”
“Everything present on the property would come with it. If memory serves, I think it’s fully furnished.” Shelley stepped through a door behind the office desk and switched on a light. “Here’s the owner’s apartment. Yes, just as I thought. They did leave all the furnishings, just took out the personal items.”
Eileen followed her into the apartment and glanced around. The furniture looked to be some old stuff from the ’50s. It was in good shape, albeit quite dusty. Certainly serviceable.
“Can we check out each of the rooms?”
“Of course.” Shelley reached into her pocket for another set of keys, then exited the office and led Eileen to #1. She opened the door and switched on the light. “Looks like this one’s ready to go, once you add some linens.” She wrinkled her nose and smiled. “And do some dusting.”
Eileen scanned the room. More old-style furniture, but all of it still in great condition. Some cheap linens would spruce it up just fine. “So the place has been empty for a couple of years? I’m amazed it hasn’t been broken into.”
“Oh, I’m not.” Shelley motioned for Eileen to go ahead and check out the bathroom. “I know how this town must look to an outsider. Tough and kinda worn-down. In some ways, I suppose it is. There isn’t much business here outside the fishing boats and the few shops in town. But the people here don’t…well, they don’t shit in their own sandbox. And no one bothers to come here to do the shitting for them. The people here don’t have much, but what they do have, they respect. Let’s just say the cops don’t have a lot to do most days. And we like it that way.”
“I see. That’s pretty unusual in this day and age.” Eileen hadn’t meant to insult, but she got the impression she might have done just that. “I’d like to check out the rest of the place, if that’s all right.”
“Sure thing.”
They took a quick tour of the seven remaining rooms. Each still contained its furnishings, unblemished except for a thick layer of dust. The bathrooms all looked in working order, just in need of a good scrubbing.
Shelley locked the door to #8, the last room on the end, and slipped the keys back into her pocket. “So, what do you think? Are you picturing yourself running a nice little motel in a quiet little town? It needs a little TLC to get ready to go, but it’s in pretty good shape overall.” She smiled.
“I may very well be. If you don’t mind, it’s getting a little late in the day, and I’m pretty tired from driving. I think I’d like to head on up to the next town, get a room and some food, and sleep on it. I’ll call you tomorrow. Will that work?”
Shelley dug a card out of her pocket and handed it to Eileen. “Sounds good to me. That’s my cell number on there. Give me a call when you’ve had a chance to think it over.” She paused and cast a wistful glance at the building. “It’s kind of sad to see this old place sitting here empty. It would be nice for it to have a new owner to bring it back to life.”
ELEVEN MONTHS AGO
“Here you go. Congratulations!” Shelley smiled as she handed Eileen the keys to the Harbor Motel.
Standing outside the door to the motel office—her office—Eileen took the keys and closed her hand on them, almost reverently. She’d never owned any sort of real estate before, and had taken a leap of faith that this old motel would be right for her. She hoped this decision would bring her luck, unlike the drug deal that sounded like such a sure thing when Ronnie had suggested it.
“Enjoy your new home…and business. Let me know if you have any questions.” Shelley waved, got into her car and left Eileen alone with her thoughts.
Today was warm and sunny, the perfect afternoon to take over her new place. The past month had been hectic with all the things she’d had to arrange and do to finalize the transaction. She’d even hired an out-of-town inspector to make sure there were no money pit issues lurking to snare her. And the paperwork, the endless paperwork.
She’d opened a bank account in the next town over to deposit the sum needed to close the deal. The small-town bank swallowed the cover story she made up to explain why she had that much cash with her. A recent inheritance and subsequent move made for a far more palatable tale than the truth—that it was the ill-gotten gains from a drug deal gone bad that she’d managed to keep hidden. Her very own silver lining to that little caper.
But that was in the past. Now she was a property owner, with a home, and a business to set up.
But first, she had to get moved in. After putting herself and Beau up in a small motel up the road for a month while the deal closed, settling into her new home would be most welcome.
To save needless steps, she positioned her car with the rear backed right up to the office. Then she ope
ned the back and set to work on hauling everything into her apartment. “Beau, you stay in there for now. I’ll get you when I’m done moving all this stuff.” He hung his panting face over the middle seat and watched her work.
Eileen moved quickly and efficiently, and soon had all the boxes, bags, and miscellaneous odd things out of the car and plopped somewhere inside. She straightened and tried to flex her back before it seized up. Good thing she’d chosen carefully what to bring with her from Arizona, and put the rest into storage. This would work fine for now. The stored stuff could wait. Glad to be done with the unloading, she closed the back gate of her RAV4, and opened the middle side door. “C’mon, Beau. Check out our new home.” The dog bounded inside the office and into the apartment, stopping to sniff everything in his path as he went.
She locked the car with the remote, then locked the outer office door. Once inside her apartment, she unloaded the bags of groceries she’d purchased earlier that day. Whoever was in charge of the estate had seen to it that the utilities had been left on all this time. That had made it much simpler to just change them over into her name, and it had prevented damage to the place from having them off for an extended period. Much to her relief, the refrigerator was actually clean inside and ready to go.
Eileen had also bought some basic items at the Wal-Mart up the road: dishes, stainless steelware, linens and towels, glasses and various cleaning supplies. Happy to own her own place for the first time, she took pleasure in the otherwise menial task of sorting through the various items and putting them in their respective places, until Beau came and started nudging her nearly off her feet.
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