Lilah

by Marjorie DeLuca

  Main Street was quiet. Even the parking spaces outside the cop station were empty. Life had settled back down into the slow quiet routine he’d been used to before Lilah came, but he wondered if Brad was right, and it was just a false sense of calm before the storm. With a bit of luck, when it all came down he’d be lying on a blow up bed, floating in a warm blue swimming pool, sipping on a martini under the hot Phoenix sun. He’d return home after all the arrests had been made and let Brad fill him in on the details. Then he’d finish the final chapter of his book, which would be snatched up in a bidding war by one of the Big Six publishers – or were they the Big Five now? Then it would be nominated for a Pulitzer the following year. All this and Lilah too. He hadn’t felt this alive and full of hope since his first day at journalism school.

  Once he’d made two backup files of his manuscript and packaged the hard copy, he remembered the box of files Brad had given him. He’d better get them back today before he forgot. Handling the yellowed papers gave him a strange charge. It was weird to think all that flower power stuff happened almost fifty years ago. Half a century later and kids still listened to that music. On a whim he scrolled through the music list on his phone and found his Doors Greatest Hits album. Slipping on his headphones he closed his eyes for a moment to the sounds of The End and allowed his mind to slide back to those heady summer days. He opened them again onto the grainy picture of Ike Dewar, Aaron Castle, Jake Hardy, Ed Schuler and Danny Johnson – all in their early twenties, late teens. Some were shirtless, displaying sinewy bodies, others wore open shirts over tight hipster jeans. All sported heads of billowing hair and long sideburns. Ike Dewar even had a droopy moustache.

  They’d posed for a publicity shot for the Lakeland Love In Festival. Ed and Jake sat lakeside, dangling bare feet into the water while Ike, Aaron and Danny propped themselves against a fallen tree trunk, their arms folded in front of them as they looked down at the camera. Three girls with flower chains in their hair lay at their feet, their arms and legs entwined with each other like Grecian wood nymphs, but Susan Jonas gleamed. Long ropes of pale hair, face like a Madonna, slim legs stretching from tiny cut-off jean shorts.

  As the music moved faster and Jim Morrison’s hypnotic voice chanted there’s danger on the edge of town, Nick drifted into a half dream state. The forest, thick with summer green, the dank, coconut smell of tanning oil on the water, the air so thick with heat, rivers of sweat channelled down your neck and forehead so all you wanted to do was peel off all your clothes and slip into the cool lake. The Killer awoke before dawn. One person watched a stoned Susan Jonas slide underwater and emerge again, her hair floating around her like golden seaweed. Or was it a group of them? All they had to do was take her clothes and grab her when she was stumbling around naked and confused. Who pounced first? The music became louder – more crazy, the heat and acid turning their brains into wild kaleidoscopes until the lake seemed like a sea of shimmering lava and their outlines of their bodies softened until they merged with the trees and the sky. They were gods. Immortal. Nobody could touch them.

  In a split second Jim Morrison’s scream blasted into his ear just as his cell phone rang, slamming him into the present like a smack in the face. Jesus, he gasped. He had to get that down on paper quickly. He felt like some kind of psychic. If he ever found out the real story he’d be spooked if his daydream was anywhere close to the truth. Lilah was on the phone.

  “You okay?” she asked. “You sound weird.”

  “I was on a roll. Writing a scene. I was right into it.”

  “Must be good then.”

  “Just missing an ending,” he said.

  “Be patient. It’ll come.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  “Just a hunch. I’ve seen a few cop cars cruising the area. Something’s going on.”

  “Is Cari there yet?”

  “She just texted. She’s about half an hour away. We’ll have lunch then we’ll meet you at Rusty’s. Let’s try three instead.”

  “Is this my bachelor party?”

  “It’s my bachelorette.”

  “Can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  He pictured her in the kitchen, making salad, tidying up and maybe even checking out her dress for a final time.

  Taking a last look at the photograph, he ran over the names for the last time. Which one of them held the secret of what happened to Susan Jonas? Or maybe they all did and they’d made a pact to keep quiet. Maybe that’s why Ike Dewar was all worked up at Danny. Maybe carrying the guilt for so many years was freaking Danny out. Maybe Nick would know the answer sooner than he thought.

  Rusty’s was filling up with the usual Friday crowd. Ike and the farmers sat at one table drinking draught. The empty glasses were already three deep. Teachers from the high school filtered in and straggled towards the pool tables. Cole Schuler was nowhere to be seen. A bunch of snow clearing guys started in on burgers, fries and onion rings and a couple of chambermaids from the motel were texting and sipping Pina Coladas. Nick leaned on the bar waiting for Rusty.

  “Haven’t seen you here for a while,” said Rusty, winking and sliding a cold beer towards Nick. “You been otherwise occupied?”

  “You could say that,” said Nick, taking a slug of cold, frothy beer.

  “It’s all just a memory for old guys like me,” sang Rusty in a tuneless voice.

  “Hey - you had your fun. Swinging sixties and all that. Summer of love. Skinny dipping by the lake.”

  The smile wiped away from Rusty’s leaving a blank stare. Nick could swear he was grinding his teeth behind the knife edge line of his lips. The friendly Rusty had disappeared leaving the tough Boston scrapper.

  “Those were shit times,” he said through his teeth. “Summer of bullshit.”

  Nick took a deep breath. It was his last chance. “You remember a girl called Susan Jonas?”

  “Can’t say I do,” said Rusty in a low, husky voice. He turned away from Nick, but not before Nick spotted the gleam of tears in his eyes. “But I heard some things about her from Jake Hardy.”

  “I was just checking out the newspaper archives. Found a great shot of him and some of those other guys from round here at the Lakeland Love In Festival. You were here then too. Looks like the girls were throwing themselves at their feet. One of them was Susan Jonas.”

  “Maybe she was. There were a whole lot of girls there.”

  “Not like her. Shiny gold hair, pearly skin, long, slim legs. Soft lips with the taste of strawberries on them.”

  It happened in a flash. Rusty’s hand fastened onto Nick’s wrist like a pit bull’s jaws. His small reddish face pushed close enough for Nick to feel the spray of spittle. “Don’t you fucking mention that girl’s name again. Not here. Not ever.”

  “Or what?” whispered Nick. “Dewar’s cronies are gonna take care of me like they took care of Gorman? And Brenner.”

  Rusty shoved Nick’s hand hard onto the counter. “I dunno what happened to that piece of shit Gorman, but he deserved everything he got, dealing dope ever since he got wind he could make some dirty money. And those other guys are not my cronies. Never have been. Jake’s the only decent one among them. Me - I put up with them and I take their money. For all I care they can drink themselves into an early death. Preferably something real painful like cancer or cirrhosis of the liver.”

  “You’re one ahead of us already,” said a familiar voice. Nick turned to see Cari followed by Lilah. As usual all heads followed their progress across the room. Cari like a Pre-Raphaelite painting with her cloud of red hair and green sweater clinging to her curves, Lilah, an exotic golden cat, her dark hair pulled into a soft ponytail that curled over the collar of a fluffy white sweater.

  “Every guy in this room is jealous of me,” he said, putting his arms around their shoulders. “Let’s celebrate.”

  He looked back at Rusty who switched on a g
rim smile and took their order.

  “I gotta say this is the weirdest bachelor party I’ve ever been to,” said Cari, sipping at a gin and soda. “Last one was in Vegas. Twelve of us girls at The Mirage. Total craziness.”

  “It’s gonna be a pretty low key wedding,” said Nick. “Things have been weird round here after what happened to Brenner and Gorman.”

  “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” said Cari. “And I had no clue about the drug dealing.”

  “Just be glad you were one that got away,” said Lilah, raising her glass. “Now – no more grim and depressing talk. Let’s drink, play pool and think about Phoenix.”

  An hour later, Nick was coasting on a pleasant beer buzz and about ready to switch to soda. There was no way he wanted a foggy head tomorrow on the most important day of his life when he’d read his personal vows to Lilah. Vows he’d spent days mulling over and revising until the words were perfect. Real poetry from a warm, loving heart The images had spilled out like fragments torn from his soul. But he still felt a little chill of apprehension at the thought of laying his inner self bare for the first time in his life.

  They were at the pool table, deep in a game with the snow clearing guys when he noticed Cole Schuler had just joined the other teachers. He spotted Nick and turned his chair away, leaning across the table to grab a cold beer. From then on Nick kept him in the periphery of his vision as well as the other tall, bearded guy in a woollen hat and dark snow jacket who sat alone just opposite the teachers. He was making a show of checking messages on his cell phone while keeping Schuler in his line of vision. Maybe it was one of Brad Brenner’s guys. Nick hadn’t seen him before, but then there were a whole lot of new cops around since Gorman and Herb had died. Or maybe it was meth guy himself or one of his minions.

  “Your turn,” screamed Cari, flushed with the embarrassment of sinking the snow guys’ red striped ball.

  Lilah kissed his cheek. “C’mon lover, they’re way ahead of us.”

  “No problem,” said Nick taking up the cue and leaning over the table. Without flinching he sunk the yellow, the green, the blue and finally the black, surprising even himself. “Holy shit. That’s a first.”

  “A good omen,” said Cari, lifting her beer bottle, “that calls for another round.”

  “Club soda for me,” said Nick, checking the side of the room and seeing that Schuler and the bearded guy were gone. “Just gotta take a leak.”

  The bathroom was empty. No sign of them. He stepped into the stall to check the tank cover when the door slammed shut behind him. Putting his shoulder to it, he saw the boots visible under the door. “What the fuck,” he yelled, fear creeping into his throat, choking his breath. He couldn’t take being trapped in a bathroom. Not since those hockey days.

  The feet shifted a little. “Better keep your damn voice down. I don’t like people nosing around. I can get real mad.”

  “Who the hell are you?” said Nick, his throat drying up, his voice barely scraping out. Soon he’d start to hyperventilate.

  “A long-time resident of Silver Narrows. Or used to be.”

  “Aaron Castle?”

  “That sad sack of shit is long gone. Let’s say I’m giving you a friendly warning. You’ve got a real nice girl there. Take her and get the hell out of here for good. Quit digging up old history and leave my kid brother alone.”

  “Schuler? You’re Sam Schuler,” Nick gasped, the panic fluttering into every muscle..

  “Sooner or later you had to run into me. When you started leaning on my bro I thought I’d better pay you a little visit.”

  “You were the asshole that shot at my girlfriend on the lake,” said Nick, pressing his hands against the door.

  “I dunno what kind of shit you’re on but I just got into town tonight.”

  Nick slammed at the door with the heel of his hand. “She almost died.”

  “You like to make enemies, kid. Sounds like you riled up the crazy man.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “The man with no soul. Takes what he wants. We work with him. He don’t get mad. We sell our dope and keep quiet. It’s a win-win all round.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Nick, the cold crawling up his back, chilling him so bad he had to get out right there and then.

  “Last warning, dope. You are messing with a bad man. He don’t give warning like me. Take your girl and leave.”

  Nick edged back and took a run at the door, bursting out into the empty bathroom. But Sam Schuler was gone.

  25

  The dream came again that night. It was the hockey windup at The Pizza Palace. He and fifteen other eight year old boys fought over four large pepperoni pizzas. He ended up with one shitty bare piece that someone else had ripped the cheese and pepperoni off. He sat, stomach grinding and hollow, playing with his drink straw.

  That’s when he saw the assistant coach give him a wink and slip outside with a pizza box. The other kids were throwing popcorn around now. He was so hungry he picked some off the floor and ate it, but he almost threw up when he felt a long hair stick between his tongue and teeth. Gross, gross he yelled, the other kids laughing and calling him a garbage eating cockroach. He ran to the bathroom but stopped at the back door, its window filled with the shadow of the big man. The thought of dripping cheese, salty pepperoni, and soft crust was like a lure to a minnow. He reached out a hand and pushed the door open. A large slice of pizza dangled in front of his nose, its salty, meaty smell filling his nostrils, making him giddy. He reached for it with his tongue and the hand snatched it back. First things first, the voice said as another hand pushed his head downwards to the opening in the corduroy trousers. Afterwards he sat on an upturned tomato can and stuffed the pizza into his mouth as tears oozed from his eyes.

  Afterwards he threw up on the doorstep of his house.

  Nick touched a hand to his face and felt the wetness. When Sam Schuler trapped him in the bathroom stall, all those old memories had surfaced again. When would he ever be rid of them? And then he remembered. It was his wedding day, Lilah lay sleeping beside him and she understood his shame like nobody else. She would take the guilt and caress the fear away - change it to something so simple, so understandable he could deal with it. He propped himself up on an elbow and watched her sleeping, her bluish lids trembling with dreams. He hoped her dreams were happier than his.

  Falling back on his pillow he told himself he’d take notice of Schuler’s warning. He’d go off to Arizona with Lilah and they’d plan the rest of their lives together. He was tired of digging into dirt. Let them have their pathetic drug dealing operation. Let the parents of those kids do their job and teach their kids about the dangers of drugs. He’d found Lilah and there was no way he’d put her in harm’s way. Still there was a niggling question in his mind. How was the drug dealing connected to the disappearances? There had to be a link. Somebody knew something bad that they were holding against someone else. His head ached. There were too many missing pieces.

  He crept out of bed quietly so as not to disturb Lilah. He’d make coffee and have it ready for her, but Cari had beaten him to it. She buzzed around the kitchen humming and whipping up eggs, bacon and mushrooms.

  “Here comes the handsome groom,” she smiled. “Big day today.”

  He sat at the counter and she pushed a cup of coffee towards him. “You nervous?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never felt so sure about someone in my life.”

  Her eyes filled. “Damn, you’re gonna make me cry and the wedding hasn’t even started.”

  He looked at her more closely. Her red hair was scooped away from her face in a long ponytail, her skin was flawless – pale ivory, her eyes grey-blue. “You’re a beautiful woman, Cari. The guys must be flocking around you.”

  “It’s like I always attract losers,” she said. “Obsessed, narcissistic, addicted – take your pick.”

  “There’s gotta be someone out there good enough to deserve you,” he said, holding up his
coffee cup for a toast.

  “Don’t worry. You two lovebirds give me hope that real love really does exist.”

  He shrugged and laughed. “If you’d said that to me a few months ago, I’d have said you’d been reading too many cheap romances.”

  “Lilah’s a really special person,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “My ears are burning,” said a voice from behind him.

  “All good,” said Cari. “We both really like you.”

  “Love you, more like,” said Nick, pulling her to him. “Ready for the big question?”

  She smiled and looked down in a shy way. “Mmh-hmm. And you?”

  He nodded. “So ready.”

  “Then eat up and get the hell out of here so we girls can pretty ourselves up,” said Cari, shoving a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.

  Nick looked in his bathroom mirror and fumbled with his tie. He’d never really mastered the art of the knot. It was always too big or the tie too long. Usually he’d get the guy at the menswear shop to tie it and just loosen it up. For some reason he’d forgotten this time. He had way too much on his mind. His hands were sweaty, slipping on the cool silk, staining it. Dammit, he said glancing at the clock. He’d arranged the ceremony for one and it was already twelve thirty. Danny and the Olsens were meeting him at the community hall and Lilah was always on time.

  He drove through the town as if it was the last time he’d be looking at the place with its wood-framed houses, its groves of cedar and pine, its white-spired church next to the red brick bank. But he wouldn’t miss the cold and the ice and slush. It was time for the next phase of his life to begin and he was ready.

  Violet Olsen was beaming in a deep purple velvet dress while Tray wore a natty navy sport coat and purple tie that matched Violet’s dress. Danny had even combed his hair back into a tidier ponytail and had actually put on a grey suit that looked like something from the nineties.