by David Haynes
Dan put his hand out, touching the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, come on. You can’t keep going back over it.”
“That’s what my mom says.” He took a deep shaky breath, releasing it slowly. “He didn’t even leave a note. I mean, if he meant to kill himself, why didn’t he leave a note? They always leave notes. Maybe he had a diary? Yeah, Alex might have kept a diary. Maybe that’s it. If I can find that, I can work it all out.”
Dan thought about the notebook the detectives had shown him. He considered mentioning it but then disregarded it. It wasn’t important and the book was empty. It wasn’t a diary.
He tried to talk to JJ some more, asked him some innocuous questions about his book collection, but he wouldn’t answer. He’d stopped moving too, just kept humming to himself.
Eventually Dan got up and walked to the kitchen.
“He say much?” JJ’s mom asked, a glass of wine beside her.
Dan shook his head. “You thought about taking him to the doctors?”
“I tried. He won’t go. They even made a house call but he told them to get out before they could get anywhere near him.”
“We could send someone round to talk to him. Our counselors are…”
“Do you think he’ll talk to them?”
Dan shook his head. “Probably not, but we can try.”
She shrugged. “Go for it,” she said.
Dan smiled and opened the door. “I’ll come back in a couple of days. Is that okay?”
She nodded, draining half the glass.
*
After visiting JJ, Dan didn’t feel much like being on his own. He drove onto Main Street, sliding past the shops without thought. A couple of people smiled at him, some even waved but mostly they just walked on, too concerned with their own worries to even lift their heads.
He wanted to take a look in the bookstore. The way Alex had dismissed the book as pulp, coupled with the way the detectives approached him about it, made him uncomfortable.
The windows were dark and uninviting. The best thing about it was the sign. It stood out in a classy and non-gaudy way. He mounted the steps and banged on the door. A few seconds passed and then he banged again. He was about to turn away when the door opened, revealing a smiling old man.
“Come on in!” he said, stepping aside.
“Mr. Castavet?” Dan asked.
“The man himself!” Castavet laughed.
The inside was dark and dingy. The only lighting was from two stubby candles over by the counter.
“I’m terribly sorry, but the power company has been…unhelpful. It’s most frustrating.” Castavet walked quickly over to the counter, taking his place behind it. Dan followed him.
“Now, what can I do for you, Mr…?”
“Law. Dan Law. I’m…”
Castavet raised his forefinger. “A teacher! An educator of young minds. Am I correct?”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Is it that obvious?”
“Not to everyone, but I pride myself in recognizing a learned man when I see one.”
“I’m not sure I’d go that far.”
“Oh, I would.” Castavet winked.
Dan was taken aback. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. It felt like he’d just stepped into the pages of an Edgar Allan Poe book.
“And you’re obviously a man with certain literary tastes…let me see…” Castavet’s eyes narrowed. “Horror!” he announced. “Weaned on the ink of Stephen King’s quill, no doubt.”
Dan laughed. “Something like that.” He had to admit, the man was charming, in a creepy kind of way. He almost forgot why he was there. “Anyway, one of my students visited the store when you first opened and he was given a free book?”
“Ah, yes,” Castavet replied. “Two of them, if I recall. Good lads, eager to read. Are they well, Mr. Law?”
Dan paused. “Unfortunately, one of them…one of them is in the hospital.”
Castavet raised a hand to his mouth. “Oh, my. I do hope it’s nothing serious. You just pass on my regards to the boy.”
“That book you gave him? What was in it?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. It was for him to write his own story. To create the worlds that all good writers can. It’s my way of encouraging the youngsters to…to live a little.”
“And you give them away?”
“I do.”
“May I take one?” Dan asked.
“Of course! How rude of me not to offer!”
Castavet reached under the counter. Dan could hear things being pushed about down there. A few seconds passed before the man raised his head.
“I could have sworn…” he started. “I shall have to place an order.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I haven’t any left. I’m so sorry. Perhaps if you come back another day, I’ll be able to provide you one. They’re very special to me.”
“That’s fine,” Dan replied. He turned around. The back of the store was in darkness. He could just about see the end of the shelving.
“And perhaps then, I’ll be able to show you my collection of rare and antique books. All of them first editions, all of them unique!”
Dan allowed Castavet to guide him to the door.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to close up now. I’m not the man I used to be! Until next time, Mr. Law.”
Within seconds, Dan was back on the street, the sound of the door locking behind him. He took a deep breath of night air. Being in the shop had been a surreal, if not weirdly enjoyable experience.
*
Castavet locked the door and smiled to himself. Teachers could be problematic, especially English teachers. They didn’t always follow the same lines of reasoning and logic that other learned folk did. They could be trouble.
But they could also be hugely entertaining and a real challenge. He walked over to the counter. He had lots of free books to give away, the stock was inexhaustible, but the teacher wasn’t quite ready for his story yet. He would be soon, though. By the end he’d be living in his own Stephen King novel.
*
Dan opened the library door and wandered inside. He hadn’t seen Lori since the incident at the diner when Paul Weaver dragged her out. They didn’t seem to go together but then again, what did he know? His relationship with Amy hadn’t exactly been a laugh-riot.
He glanced over toward the counter. There was nobody behind it but a light filtered through from the little office to the side. He walked over, hoping it was Lori and not Linda working in there.
“Hello?” he called. His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the space. He glanced about, waiting for an admonishing look from someone, but he was alone. The library was empty. He glanced down at his watch. It was almost closing time anyway.
He was about to turn away when he heard a muffled grunt from the office.
“That you, Lori?” he called, craning his neck to try and see in.
There was a brief flurry of activity and then Lori walked slowly out, straightening an enormously oversized sweater.
“Dan?” she smiled. “I thought I heard someone.” She walked to the counter.
“Hey, Lori. You okay?” Was that a wince as she tugged at her sleeve?
She smiled again. “Fine, thanks. You?”
He nodded. “You heard about Alex Potts?”
She nodded. Again, the faint indication of discomfort. “It sounds terrible. Do you know what happened?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “I was just with one of his friends, JJ. He’s pretty messed up about it. No wonder really. Poor kid.”
“He found them, didn’t he?”
Dan nodded. Lori was, and always had been, naturally attractive. When all the other girls in their class had been smearing as much makeup on their faces as they could, Lori had worn nothing but lip gloss. Maybe it was age catching up with both of them, but tonight her skin looked a different color. He couldn’t remember thinking about it the other evening in the diner. Perhaps it was just the lighting in here.
“He see
ms like a good kid,” she said. “They both did.”
“They are,” he agreed.
He drummed his fingers on the desk, not knowing what else to say. He changed the subject. “Has she smashed the computers up yet?”
Lori frowned.
“Linda? She didn’t seem like their biggest fan.”
“Oh. She’s not been in for the last two days.”
“Holidays?”
Lori shook her head. “No. She called in yesterday and said she wasn’t feeling well and then nothing today. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
“Probably the thought of facing that.” He pointed at the tower system.
“Perhaps,” Lori replied. “I was just about to close up when you…”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll get out of the way and let you get home.”
She smiled. “I was actually going to call at Linda’s on my way. Check in on her.” Lori flicked a few switches, shrouding the rear of the library in darkness.
“You want a lift?” he asked.
“No, it’s fine thanks.”
“You sure? Linda lives on the other side of town, doesn’t she?”
Lori walked from behind the counter and walked toward the main doors. “I could do with the exercise. Besides, it’s the wrong side of town for you.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve got nothing better to do, and after the last few days my place has felt a little on the large side.”
Lori said nothing, locking the main doors. “Really, I’d rather walk.”
“Come on,” he said. “I never got to take Lori Hill in my car when…”
“Dan! Please!”
He stopped in his tracks. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean to…I…”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “No, it’s me. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to shout, I’m just…I…” She wrapped her arms about herself, winced and then emitted a whispered grunt.
“Are you okay?” Dan asked. “What have you done?”
“Nothing. I’m okay.” She winced again and tried to walk away.
“No. No you’re not,” Dan reached out for her arm, but she moved it away quickly, closing her eyes against the pain. “Jesus. Is this Paul? Did he hurt you?”
She looked at the ground by her feet. It had started raining, the rumble of thunder a distant drumbeat.
“Lori?”
She lifted her head. “No. I fell.” She tried to smile. “Redecorating the bedroom, fell off the ladders.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds. It was as unconvincing a lie as he’d ever heard. A great, fat raindrop fell on the ground between them.
“Please,” she said. “Don’t make a fuss.”
“But…”
“Dan.” She put a hand on his arm. “It isn’t what you think…it’s just…”
He hoped she wouldn’t say anymore. They both knew he’d seen through her lie.
“If that ride’s still available, I’ll take you up on it.” She looked heavenward. “It’s coming down heavier now.”
He knew this was said to assuage him, to stop him making a fuss out here on the street where everyone could see and hear them.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll walk home from Linda’s.”
14
They drove away from the library in silence. What injuries lay beneath Lori’s sweater, beneath the makeup, Dan could only guess at. She seemed to wince with every movement of her body.
He wanted to ask her what Paul had done. He wanted to take her straight to the police and make her tell them. He wanted to take a drive over to see Paul and say some things that had been on his mind since junior high school.
But he did nothing. He kept quiet and drove the car to the other side of town.
“Which way?” he asked.
Lori pointed to the street sign. “Number four,” she said. “Just drop me here and you can get off home.”
He pulled up outside the house and turned in his seat. “You know, you can talk to me, right? I mean, I know we’re not best buddies or anything but maybe…”
“I’m fine, Dan. Honestly, I’m fine.”
She opened the door and climbed out of the car. He watched her walk up the little path of Linda’s bungalow and knock on the door. The house was in darkness, save for a light that filtered through the top pane of glass in the door.
Lori knocked again.
Dan wound down the window. “Doesn’t look like she’s in,” he shouted.
Lori glanced over her shoulder. “I can hear crying,” she said. “Coming from inside.”
Before Dan could climb out of the car, Lori tried the door. It was unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped inside, calling “Linda? It’s Lori, I’ve come to see how you are.”
Dan walked up the path and peered inside. “Everything okay?” he called. He could hear weeping coming from further back in the house. “Lori? Lin…”
Before he could finish, someone screamed. It sounded like Lori. He rushed inside, running down a narrow corridor toward the back of the house, pushing through the door at the end.
It was the kitchen. Or rather, it had once been a kitchen. It looked more like an abattoir.
A cold metallic smell filled the air, and behind it the start of something sickly and sweet lingered. It made his stomach churn. He glanced at Lori. She was staring at Linda, at something else in the chair beside her. Her hands were covering her mouth.
Dan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Robert Phelps. He didn’t think he’d seen him for at least two years but it might have been longer. He was much bigger now, fatter, enormous, but there was no mistaking him. Even with his intestines splayed out all over the linoleum floor.
Robert’s bloated, hairy belly had been slit right down the center, from sternum to the top of his groin. The cut was so deep, so brutal, that his insides had just spilled out of him. Some of the viscera was in his lap, some was on the floor, some half-in and half-out.
“He always was a big fat greedy-guts,” said Linda.
Dark strings of mascara dribbled down her cheeks. They were dry now but she had the look of someone who’d been asleep in a dumpster for a couple of days. Her usually pristine hair was a tangle of knots and clumps. Her dress was smeared with her brother’s blood. There were prints where she had tried to wipe her hands on the counter surface.
Dan was dumbstruck. He felt bile rising in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.
“And he was grouchy. Sometimes he was really nasty too.” Linda stood up and grabbed Robert’s head, tilting in backward. “He won’t have much to say now though.”
She opened his mouth. The tongue had gone, or most of it. A ragged flap of skin wobbled at the back of his throat.
She released him and looked at them both. Only then did Dan see the knife in her hand. It was an old-fashioned butcher’s knife, the kind handed down through the generations. The handle was a pearlescent pink as if years of blood had soaked into it.
“Linda, put the knife down,” he said. His voice was calm. He felt anything but in control.
She looked at him. “I think I was about to cut his cock off, but I’m not sure about that now.” She frowned. “He was a dirty bastard, you see. He used to…when I was a little girl…he used to…”
She placed the knife on the counter and sat back down. “I don’t remember,” she muttered.
Dan glanced at Lori again. She looked deep in shock.
“I’m going to call for the police now, Linda,” he said. There was little point in any of the other services coming. Robert was clearly dead.
“Lori?” he said. She shook her head. “Lori, why don’t you step outside and get some air. I’ll stay with Linda.”
Lori looked at him, opened her mouth and licked her lips. She shook her head again.
“Go on.” He took his cell out of his jacket. “I’ll call them now.”
She nodded and walked out of the room. As he tapped the numbers on the screen, he
heard her retching on the street outside.
*
By the time Detectives Ronayne and Burton arrived, Dan and Lori had already spoken to three police officers and given brief statements. One of the officers put Linda in the rear of his cruiser. She was wearing a police jumpsuit that seemed five times too big for her. She looked like a little girl in it. As she walked to the car, a perplexed expression on her face, Dan heard her speaking to the officer.
“I don’t understand. One minute I was reading my book and then…and then…” She didn’t finish.
Apart from the kitchen, the rest of the house was immaculate. There was not a trace of blood, garbage or dirt in the house. Robert’s room might have been different but Dan didn’t get to see in there.
Dan and Lori were taken to the PD to give their evidence. As they sat in the back of the cruiser, he tried to hold her. She hadn’t said much since first finding Linda and when he put an arm around her shoulders, he felt her body stiffen. He felt her trembling against him. It took several minutes before she relaxed and allowed him to comfort her.
At the station, Ronayne took Dan to one of the interview rooms while Lori went with Burton. He answered the detective’s questions as well as he could. There was not much he could say, other than what he’d seen when they arrived at the house. He knew Linda only as the librarian, and didn’t have a clue about her private life.
“And you and Miss Hill?” Ronayne asked. “Are you two…”
“Together? No, we’re not. We’re just…we’ve known each other since school, grew up together, that’s all.”
The detective nodded and continued writing. After a few more questions he stood up, stretching his back. “Not what I’d expect in Silver Lake,” he said, sighing.
“Nor me.” Dan didn’t recall anything more serious than a couple of fights ever taking place in town. The PD was small, ill-equipped to deal with anything as serious as murder. Ronayne and Burton weren’t from Silver Lake, they had been drafted in to help.
“Looks like we’ll be staying for a while longer.” Ronayne rubbed his eyes. “Where can I find some decent food in town?”
