by Brett McBean
“Whatever,” Al said. “I’m just trying to save our arses, that’s all. If you think this is all a big joke...”
“Hey, I know this ain’t a fucking joke. I’m just as scared as you are.”
That was the first time Al had ever heard Eddy say he was scared. Never in the ten years he had known him had he ever said he was scared.
“That’s right. I’ve been shit scared ever since finding the body. So what?”
Al shrugged. He didn’t know what to say.
“Anyway, let’s drop it, huh? What are we gonna do?”
“I’ve, ah, got a plan,” Al said.
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“Okay. The only way to see if there’s an ex-cop back there, is if the old bag is out of her house.”
“And that’s where I come in,” Eddy said.
“You got it, buddy.”
Eddy stubbed out his cigarette, threw it to the floor and rubbed his eyes. “What do I have to do?”
“Go into the office and start up a conversation with her. I’ll sneak in through the back door and check out the place.”
“Okay, what if there is an ex-porky back there?”
“I’ll be careful. All I need is a glimpse of him. Then I’ll high-tail it outta there.”
“Why am I going over there? I can’t just walk in and start up a chat with her. It would be too suspicious.”
Al sat on the bed, thinking. He started biting his fingernails, spitting out the broken pieces to the floor.
“That’s disgusting,” Eddy said.
“Shut up, will ya? I’m trying to think.”
Eddy held up his hands. “Don’t let me stand in the way of genius. Forget I’m even here.”
Al looked up and spat a piece of fingernail in Eddy’s direction. Eddy jumped off the bed. The fingernail landed on his pillow.
“You fuck,” he said. “That’s really revolting. Come here and pick that filthy thing up.”
“You pick it up,” Al said.
“I ain’t touching that thing.”
“I’ve got it!” Al said. “The reason why you have to go over there.”
“That’s swell, Al. But come and retrieve your fingernail.”
Al huffed, stood up and went over to Eddy’s bed. He picked the small nail off the bed and flicked it to the carpet.
“Happy?” Al said.
“Peachy. Now, what’s this plan?”
“This is perfect. Okay, you go over and ask her if she’s got any maps. You know, for this area. I mean, we wanted to have a map anyway, right?”
Eddy nodded. “That’s good. How long do I have to keep the conversation going for?”
“Ah...let’s see.” Al pictured in his head sneaking around the back, going into the house and searching the rooms. “Try for two minutes?”
“Two minutes. Now, how will I know when you’re done? What if after two minutes you’re not finished searching the house, and I, thinking you have, leave the office and she goes back into her house?”
The two men stood facing each other, both lost in their own thoughts. Al started biting his nails again.
“What about this,” Eddy said. “You start whistling. Or maybe hooting like an owl.”
Al, his right index finger buried inside his mouth, made a face. “I don’t know. It’s very windy out there. The chance of you hearing me would be slim. Besides, there are a lot of other cries and shit from real animals. We’re in the mountains, remember?”
Eddy scratched his head. He didn’t reply, just shrugged.
“Not bad. Keep thinking, though.”
“Gee, thanks,” Eddy said.
“I know, how about I throw a rock or something on the roof? You’re bound to hear that. The woman will probably think it’s just the storm.”
“Nah, there are plenty of real rocks and shit. We’re in the mountains, remember?”
“Fuck you, it’s a good idea. Can you think of anything better?”
Eddy grimaced at Al, and shook his head slightly.
“Okay, so that’s it then. When you hear a loud bang on the roof, you know I’m done, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddy said. “Let’s get this over and done with.”
Al ran his fingers through his hair then blew out a long sigh. “You ready?”
“I just said I was.”
Al headed for the cabin door, Eddy following behind. Outside, Eddy said, “Looks like it’s gonna rain soon. Look at those clouds.”
Al didn’t bother looking up. He turned to Eddy and said, “I’ll try to be quick, okay?”
Eddy’s face, gazing up at the night sky, was a pale grey in the darkness. Al looked around the grounds to see if any of the other guests were around. The motel was quiet.
“Come on,” Al whispered.
They headed towards the office.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Madge was in the kitchen, preparing a cup of herbal tea, when the doorbell rang. She poured the hot water into her cup, then left the kitchen and wandered into the lounge.
She wondered if whoever was at the door had anything to do with the scream she heard earlier.
It was probably those two ruffians, she thought.
She walked through the purple curtain and headed to the front door. She peered through the peephole.
Damn! Just what I need.
She wanted desperately to leave him out there, to pretend she was asleep or didn’t hear the doorbell. But she knew what she had told him, as indeed she told all of her customers. Besides, what if the scream was serious, and his friend was hurt?
With a deep groan, Madge unlocked the door and opened it.
“Hi. Sorry to bother you so late.”
“Nonsense,” she said, smiling. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She stepped aside to let him in. She closed the door when he was inside. “Now, what can I do for you, Michael?” She shuffled around to behind the counter. She tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible when she gripped the baseball bat hidden under the desk. “Is your friend okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard someone scream before. I thought it might’ve been one of you.”
Michael shook his head. “Wasn’t us. I think it came from the people who arrived not long ago.”
Wayne and his son?
“Ah well, not to worry. So, how can I help you?”
“Well, I know it’s kind of late to be asking for this, but I was wondering if you had any maps? You know, the kind that show all the hiking tracks around this area.”
Madge loosened her grip on the bat, but kept her hand nearby, just in case. She smiled and nodded. “That’s right, you and your friend are going hiking tomorrow. I’m afraid I don’t have any maps. I used to, years ago, but since business has dried up I have just done away with them.”
“That’s okay,” Michael said. He scratched his head. “Ah, what’s it like around here?”
“Well, I told your friend earlier about this mountain.”
She saw Michael nod vacantly. “So you’re sure you don’t have any maps?”
Is this guy deaf, as well as dumb? Madge thought.
“Yes, I’m positive.”
“What would you say is the best hike around this mountain?”
Madge breathed in deeply. “Like I told your friend, the most rugged hike is Devil’s Gorge. There is also…”
All of a sudden she saw Michael’s eyes go wide, and he drew in a quick breath. He seemed to be looking past Madge. He quickly lowered his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, slowly turning her head. She saw nothing but the key rack and the purple curtain. She faced Michael and returned her grip on the bat.
“Ah, yeah. Thanks for your help. Devil’s Drop you say?”
“Devil’s Gorge.”
“Oh, right,” Michael said and grinned. “Like I said, sorry to bother you, but we’re getting away early tomorrow, and we forgot to ask you for a map of the area.”
“T
hat’s okay. Have a good time tomorrow.”
Michael nodded. He turned and headed for the door. Madge watched as he stepped out into the windy night.
She let go of the baseball bat and shook her head. She would have to keep an eye on those two. She was sure they were up to something. It was going to be a restless night’s sleep.
She left the office and wandered into her lounge room. She headed straight into her bedroom and picked up her coat and scarf. She might have another problem on her hands, besides those two boys. In any event, it was her job to check if everything was okay in her motel. Especially when there had been a scream such as the one earlier.
* * *
Eddy met Al around the front of the office. “Are you crazy?” he whispered, pushing him in the chest.
“What?”
“If she had seen you, we’d both be in the shit. Man!” Eddy huffed.
“Come on,” Al said. He started walking towards their cabin.
Eddy followed behind. He glanced over his shoulder. The office door remained closed.
“The good news is that there’s no ex-cop. She’s totally alone back there.”
Al spoke quietly, but his voice carried with the wind.
“Told ya,” Eddy said.
They arrived at the cabin. They had left it unlocked, so they trudged straight inside, out of the cold wind.
Eddy closed the door behind him. “So you’re satisfied now? Told you the old bitch was lying.”
“She was married to a cop, that much was true. I saw some old photos. I checked in the bedroom though, and found only women’s clothes.”
“Was that before or after you stuck your ugly head through the curtain?”
Al laughed. “You should’ve seen your face, man. Looked like you’d shit your pants.”
“Yeah, it was a riot,” Eddy said as he went over to his bed and sat down.
“You didn’t wait for me to throw the rock,” Al said. “I could’ve been caught.”
“I guessed that since you had the stupidity to show yourself, you were alone back there. Plus, I couldn’t keep the conversation going, man. I think she saw right through me.” Eddy sighed. “Anyway, now that’s over, let’s decide on what we’re gonna do with the body.” He gazed up at Al, who was still standing by the door, grinning.
“Why the fuck are you so happy? She got a daughter back there?”
Al raised his eyebrows, then lifted his jacket. “Got myself a little souvenir.”
Eddy jumped off the bed and stared dumbfounded at the large handgun. It was jammed down Al’s belt.
“Found it in one of the bedroom drawers while I was looking for money. Must’ve been her husband’s.”
“Jesus,” Eddy murmured. “Give me a look at it.”
Al plucked it out and handed it over. “Careful, it’s loaded.”
“And you had it down your pants?”
Al shrugged. “It can’t go off unless you pull the trigger. I also found these.” He pulled out a box of ammunition. “There’s eighteen cartridges in this baby.”
“No kidding,” Eddy said. He handled the revolver cautiously, turning it over so as to get a good look at it. It was a powerful Smith & Wesson .41 Magnum. He caressed the cold stainless steel, ran his fingers along the six-inch barrel. “Wow,” he said. “It’s a beautiful piece. I’m impressed. Think we’ll need it?”
“You never know. Can’t hurt to have it.”
“Unless I shoot you,” Eddy said, smiling. He wrapped his fingers around the Combat Dymondwood grip, and aimed the gun at the fridge. “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
“You know,” Al said. “That impression wasn’t half bad.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Madge closed the office door then turned the key. She made sure the door was locked, then she slipped the key into her coat pocket. She flipped one end of her scarf over her shoulder that had blown loose, then started walking towards cabin four.
She could see the dark pine trees behind the cabins being thrown around by the wind, and saw that the sky was now an ugly grey. She knew from experience that it was going to rain soon. And a hard, cold rain at that.
What a night it’s going to be, she thought with trepidation.
She shuffled along the rocky earth and saw in the distance, muted behind the old curtains, the light still on in cabin four. She also noticed that all three groups were still up. She checked her watch. It was almost twenty past twelve.
A bunch of night owls.
She arrived at cabin four. Standing before the front door, she suddenly remembered her gun. Actually her late husband’s gun, hidden amongst her jumpers and pants. She wished she had thought of it before she left – it might come in handy.
She thought about turning around and retrieving the revolver.
Don’t overreact, she told herself. If the situation were so bad that you needed a gun, it would be best to go straight back and call the police.
She decided that it wasn’t, so she rapped solidly on the door. From inside she heard scurrying and faint murmurs.
“Ah, hang on!” a man called out.
Again more noises, louder this time. Madge waited out in the cold, her body shivering despite all the clothes and the coat she was wearing. She listened to all the banging and dull thuds from inside the cabin.
She was ready to pound on the door a second time, when it opened up, and Wayne stood facing her. He was panting, and Madge noticed sweat dripping down his face.
He smiled, and discreetly wiped his forehead. “Hi Madge.”
She smiled politely back. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you so late, but I noticed your light was still on.”
“Yes,” Wayne said. “We both like to stay up late. How can I help you?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course,” Wayne said. He stepped aside and waved her in. When Madge was in the cabin, Wayne closed the door.
“Cold outside,” Wayne said.
“My word.” Madge gazed around the small cabin. The bed over to her left was messed and had its sheets strewn about. She also noticed that there weren’t any pillowcases. She didn’t bother saying anything, though. She had seen stranger things during her time – a lot stranger. The bed to the right was still neatly made.
The bathroom door was closed and the shower was running. It was funny, but Madge hadn’t heard it from outside. She knew how loud the shower sounded from outside, and she was surprised that she never noticed it. She put it down to the strong wind.
Wayne walked around in front of her. “Paul’s in the shower. He likes to have them at night. I’ve never understood why. I’m a morning person, myself.”
“I heard a scream earlier. I was told it came from your cabin.”
“Really?” Wayne said, a frown on his round face. He scratched his black hair. “Ah, that,” he said, nodding. He smiled at Madge – a big, clown smile. “I’m sorry to cause you trouble. It was nothing, actually. You see, Paul was about to hop into the shower, when he saw a big hairy spider perched on the wall. And he hates spiders. To tell you the truth, he gave me a fright when he screamed. So of course, I had to come in and kill the poor thing.” He shrugged.
“So that was why he screamed?”
“Yep. Like I said, I’m really sorry you had to come all the way over here. Especially on a horrible night like tonight. I, ah, hope we didn’t wake anybody up?”
Madge gave a relieved smile. “No, they’re all still up.”
“That’s good,” Wayne said. “Is there anything else?”
“No. I’m just glad we sorted it out. Is your son okay? Spiders can be a real problem out here.”
Wayne nodded. “He’s still a little shaken, but I checked the bathroom and there didn’t seem to be any more hiding.”
“Well, I’ll leave you in peace,” Madge said. “Sorry to have bothered you.” She headed for the door.
“Nonsense,” Wayne chuckled. “You have to check out suspicious things. Like when a person screams. I
understand.”
He hurried over and opened the door for her. She thanked him.
“Have a good night,” Madge said as she stepped out.
“We will,” Wayne said.
The door closed behind her and she made her way back towards the office.
The cold wind that blew against Madge didn’t register with her. She had something else pressing on her mind. It was Wayne’s face that bothered her. She was a very astute person, and she noticed things; small things. She was especially good at remembering things about people’s faces. It wasn’t that his face still looked familiar (she just wished she could remember when she had last encountered him). No, there was a smaller detail that nudged at her brain.
She was still thinking about it when she arrived at the office door. By pure action, without even thinking about doing it, she pulled out the key and opened the door. She closed and locked it. Then in a flash it came to her.
Wayne didn’t have a moustache. She knew he had had one when he arrived.
She knew a lot of customers, particularly men, wore disguises when staying the night at her motel. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
But why would a father wear a fake moustache? It didn’t make sense.
She walked through the lounge and into her bedroom. Her place was nice and warm. The open fire in the lounge did wonders to warm the place. She threw her scarf and coat onto the bed, then strolled back into the lounge. She sat down in her chair and stared blankly at the TV screen. The sound was turned down.
Why would he wear a fake moustache? What does he have to hide?
Madge shook her head. She knew it wasn’t any of her business. Unless they did something illegal, or she suspected illegal activity, it was no one’s business but Wayne and his son’s.
But she could wonder. She could try and remember when she had seen him.
She certainly had a bizarre bunch of customers tonight. Only Morrie and his wife seemed normal.
But what’s normal these days?
She picked up the remote control, and was about to turn up the volume, when she remembered her tea. She hopped up and shuffled into the kitchen. The small cup was still sitting on the bench. She felt the cup. It was stone cold. She picked it up and went over to the sink. There she tipped the green water out, then threw the sodden teabag into the bin.
