Dark August

by Katie Tallo

  THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN, HAIR WHIPPING AT HER FACE, Augusta starts to calm down as she drives faster. Levi sticks his head out the back window. Cruising down the highway, her breathing returns to normal as she absorbs the enormity of what’s just happened.

  At this very moment, she is sitting next to an envelope.

  An envelope addressed to her from the ballerina in the Polaroid.

  From Gracie Halladay to Augusta Monet.

  A correspondence that inexplicably reached across time and landed next to her on the seat of her great-grandmother’s rusty Buick.

  A letter from a ghost.

  33

  Stu

  THE SKY IS A WHITE SOUP. AUGUSTA STEPS TO THE EDGE OF the black lava crater. Levi is on the far side. She hollers at him to stay back. His tail wags. He steps into the liquid surface, paws sinking. She waves her arms frantically. He jumps back. Suddenly, she’s sinking too. In seconds, the muck is at her knees. Levi barks as the black sludge sucks her in deeper. She’s up to her waist, then her chest. The more she struggles, the faster she sinks. Then someone grabs her arm at the elbow. Grips tight. She turns. It’s a child. Gracie Halladay. Dressed in a ballet tutu. She’s trying hard to pull Gus out, only she’s not strong enough. She has to let go. Gus is swallowed by the warm slurry. The only sound she can hear as she goes under is Levi barking.

  Augusta gasps for air as she’s sucked out of the darkness and into the motel room. She’s lying on her bed. Fully clothed. She tries to shake off the fog of the nightmare. Her eyes are blinded by the bright morning light streaming in through the door. Then the barking starts up again. In the distance. It’s Levi. There’s a squeal of tires on pavement. Her brain snaps to attention. The door’s open. Levi’s outside. Gus jumps out of bed and stumbles out the door and into the courtyard. She scans the parking lot. Across the street, Levi dashes into oncoming traffic. Before she can open her mouth to scream for him to stop, she spots Stu Lashey running into traffic, waving his arms at oncoming cars. Horns blare. He’s wearing a police uniform. He holds out both hands to the cars. They screech and stop. Levi makes it across, scuttling over to Gus, wagging his tail and panting. Stu waves the traffic on then jogs over to them, sweating and wide-eyed. Gus kneels and embraces Levi as he licks her chin. Tears in her eyes, she looks up at Stu, who blurts out the obvious.

  “Your pup almost got hit.”

  “How the fuck did he get out?”

  “No idea, I just saw him bolt across the street.”

  “I was asleep.”

  “You left your door open.”

  Gus flushes.

  “You saved Levi.”

  “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

  He salutes. She realizes Stanton hasn’t called him off yet.

  “And you’re here because?”

  She’s almost glad he’s still tailing her since it looks like someone else is too.

  “You left me a message. Said you wanted to talk.”

  The wheels in her brain slowly rewind. She found his number. Called him late last night. Asked to meet in the morning.

  Then everything before that comes rushing back.

  Perth. Ollie and the envelope. She remembers driving back to Ottawa. Back to the motel where she sat outside on the metal chair by her door until midnight, under the green glow of the overhead lights. The envelope from Gracie in her lap. Levi lying at her feet on the cool pavement. Finally mustering the courage to open the envelope. Inside she found a bank draft wrapped in a note. A lock of black hair fell into her lap. A token. Like how a mother keeps a lock of her newborn’s hair. A strange gesture, but Augusta understood it. Gracie wanted to include something of herself in the envelope.

  Gus removed the note from around the certified bank draft. Then she flipped it over. Stunned by what she saw there. The draft was made out to cash in the amount of five million dollars. She looked closer. Squinted to make sure she wasn’t miscounting the zeroes or misconstruing the words printed on the front. Nope. She wasn’t. Five million bucks. She shoved the bank draft in the back pocket of her jeans and looked around to make sure no one was watching her.

  The motel parking lot was empty. Dull buzzings emanated from the air conditioner units in each window. A faltering breeze circled the motel courtyard. It lifted a stray lid from a discarded takeout cup and danced it across the pavement, then flitted it into the air and spirited it away into the night.

  Gus opened the note. She could feel Gracie’s warm breath on her face as she stared at the childlike handwriting scrawled across the paper. Gracie’s fingers touched this paper. Her words were chosen carefully. Written slowly. Smudged by her hand as it grazed the ink. Words written five years ago in the corner table at the post office. A dispatch from the past.

  Dear Augusta,

  I hope this money helps you to not be sad. It is because of me that your ma is dead. She was nice to me and they killed her. I would have stopped them but I didn’t know how.

  Yours,

  Gracie

  There’s a P.S. at the bottom of the note.

  Don’t tell anybody about the money or he will come for it.

  Gus stared at the words. One phrase in particular. She read it over and over. Her heart thudding across it like a record skipping.

  They killed her. They killed her. They killed her.

  The meaning of those three words sank deep into her soul as the world around her altered. The pavement warped. The green lights glowed hot. The cool metal chair turned her skin to gooseflesh as a terrible truth materialized.

  “You okay?”

  Gus snaps back to the present. Constable Lashey is crouched down, stroking Levi’s belly. Gus rubs her eyes. Her stomach rumbles and she decides they need to have a chat.

  “You hungry?”

  “Always.”

  She showers while he calls work to tell them he’s running late. They walk a few blocks down to a burger joint called The Works. They tie Levi to a bench outside where they can see him and they grab a table at the window. Order burgers, fries, and coffee for breakfast. Sitting across from him, she’s suddenly struck by the fact that he’s not wearing his usual undercover getup.

  “What’s with the uniform?”

  “Lieutenant Stanton reassigned me to patrol. I’m officially off the case of Augusta Monet, and company.”

  He nods toward Levi. Then he blushes ever so slightly.

  “So since I’m not tailing you anymore, I think that means you call me Stu.”

  “Stu it is.”

  She looks at him. Their eyes meet. She knows he likes her. She goes for it.

  “I need you to get me a copy of the accident report. My mother’s accident.”

  He doesn’t say anything. She keeps going.

  “I know Rory was there when my mom’s car went into the lake.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yeah. And I saw him there. I must have.”

  “You were there?”

  “I think so. Unless I just dreamed it.”

  She likes that he doesn’t smirk or roll his eyes. Let’s her find her way. Gives her space to tell him as much or as little as she wants.

  “Listen, Stu. Rory was there when my mom died. And I know for a fact that he’s done stuff in the past that could get him in deep trouble. Bottom line, he’s no innocent bystander.”

  Stu fiddles with one of his starched cuffs. He seems uncomfortable in the stiff uniform. He looks up at her.

  “I’m on thin ice with Stanton as it is. I could lose my job.”

  Their food arrives. Gus is suddenly ravenous. She takes a huge bite, barely chews, then bites off another hunk of hamburger. Real food. It’s been weeks since she’s had food that wasn’t either microwaved or eaten straight out of a box or can. She glances out the window at Levi. He’s staring at her burger and licking his lips. Hopeful and loyal. She wishes she could trust people as much as she does that dog. Maybe she has to try. Lashey did save Levi’s life. She leans in.

  “I got a not
e from Gracie Halladay.”

  “Who?”

  “A dead girl. She died in the Elgin fire.”

  “Weird.” Stu rubs his chin.

  “You can’t tell anyone. Not Stanton, no one.”

  She takes the note from her satchel and reads it to him. Paraphrasing a little to leave out the part about the money.

  “‘Dear Augusta, I hope you are not too sad. It is because of me that your ma is dead. She was nice to me and they killed her. I would have stopped them but I didn’t know how. Yours, Gracie.’”

  “Holy shit.”

  That’s all he says but it’s not his words. It’s in the way his eyes flicker with recognition. He knows the words tell a terrible truth. Gus decides to tell him everything.

  Almost everything.

  About how she suspects it was Rory and his friend Dez who raped June when they were teenagers. How Shannon tried to watch out for Gracie when June died. How Desmond Oaks is Gracie’s father. How June, Gracie, and a missing kid named Henry were all connected by evidence her mother left for her. And how, even though it’s likely Shannon never intended it, that evidence holds the secret to her own death. Last but not least, Gus tells him that the note Gracie sent her five years ago confirms her mother’s death was no accident. She was murdered.

  Stu listens. No comments about her being in over her head. He just listens. Relief washes over Gus with every word. It feels good to talk this out. Feels good to say out loud that her mother didn’t kill herself. Shannon didn’t choose to leave her all alone in the world. Someone took her from Gus when she was just eight years old. And Stu is going to help her find out who those someones are.

  “If this Gracie person is dead, how’d she leave you a note?”

  “It’s been in an envelope at a post office in Perth for the past five years. Fluke, really.”

  “Just a note, that’s all?”

  She stuffs the note back into her satchel. That’s when she remembers the five-million-dollar bank draft, made out to cash, that’s tucked in her back pocket. She’ll tell him about that later. For now, she’ll follow Gracie’s instruction to not tell anybody about the money.

  “And a lock of hair.”

  He grimaces. “She says they killed her. So who’s they?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  “We?”

  She smiles, takes a bite of her burger, then stuffs a handful of fries in her mouth. Ketchup drips down her T-shirt. He dabs the corner of his paper napkin in one of the water glasses on the table and hands it to her. She looks down. Flushes. Takes the napkin. The server tops up their coffees and asks Stu if everything’s okay with his burger. He hasn’t touched his. He nods toward Gus and smiles.

  “Just distracted.”

  Gus looks up. Cheeks bulging with fries. The server winks.

  “Can I get you two lovebirds anything else?”

  “No thanks. We’re good.”

  “Pay at the counter when you’re ready.”

  She places the bill on the table. Once she’s out of earshot, Stu leans in closer.

  “I’ll look into the report.”

  “You’re the best. Oh, and while you’re at it, see what you can find on a Tommy Oaks?”

  “Who?”

  “See if he’s in the system. Maybe Thomas or Tom Oaks. Desmond’s brother.”

  She begins to pick at his fries now that hers are all done.

  “You know if I do all this, it makes me your accomplice.”

  She blushes. He brings on the dimples and she giggles like a schoolgirl.

  “You gonna eat that?”

  He pushes his plate over to her side of the table. She chows down on his burger. Between chews she remembers one more tidbit.

  “I’m pretty sure Kep Halladay had at least one cop on his payroll back then so be careful. They could still be around. Might not want the past biting them in the ass.”

  His phone buzzes. Stu glances at it then grabs the bill off the table and checks his watch. He holds up his phone.

  “Work. I should really get going or I’ll end up on traffic duty.”

  She nods toward two uniformed cops sitting in a far booth.

  “We’ve been seen together so be careful.”

  She’s only half kidding.

  “No worries. They’re cool.”

  She continues eating. Stu walks to the cash register and pays the bill. He stops to chat with the other cops for a moment. His back is to her so she can’t hear what he’s saying. One of the cops says something about it all being good. Then Stu heads out, hip-checking the door and giving Levi a pet on the top of the head before strolling down the sidewalk. The server clears Augusta’s plate, leaving Stu’s for Gus to finish. They both watch as Stu walks away.

  “Nothing like a man in uniform. He your guy?”

  “Hope so.”

  The server smiles and walks away. Gus folds the rest of Stu’s burger inside a paper napkin for Levi. The two cops wink at her as she leaves and she’s pretty sure Stu made up some story about them being on a date and not to tell anyone since he’s supposed to be working. Part of her feels like they were on a date. She likes the feeling.

  As Gus and Levi walk back down Richmond toward the motel, she offers Levi tiny morsels of the patty in the palm of her hand. Trying to teach him.

  “Gentle.”

  Levi grabs the last morsel from her hand, nipping her palm. He gobbles it down. She shakes her head, about to scold the dog when she spots the door to her motel room standing open. They cross the parking lot, passing by the office. Hubble, the manager, emerges. Hands on wide hips.

  “Your uncles came by.”

  Hubble isn’t making eye contact. Something’s up.

  “Uncle Rory?”

  “Didn’t tell me their names. They said they wanted to wait in your room on account of the one’s skin condition.”

  Right away she knows who that was. Dez. Gus stares at the woman.

  “So you just let them in.”

  “Like I had a choice. One was a cop. Wearing short pants, mind you, but a cop.”

  “Did they have a warrant?”

  Gus barks the question like she’s starring in a police drama. Hubble shrugs.

  “How’d your uncle get so burned up, anyways?”

  Gus turns her back on Hubble and heads to her room.

  It’s trashed. Hubble is right behind her.

  “How was I s’pose to know you had crazy kin?”

  Gus drags Levi inside and shuts the door in Hubble’s face. But she can still hear the woman shouting outside and banging on the door.

  “Housekeeping is not dealing with that mess. And your security deposit is toast.”

  Gus ignores her. The minibar has been toppled and emptied. The bed flipped over. The drawers tossed from the dresser. Her trunk tipped over, half-open. Clothes everywhere. Her so-called uncles were looking for something. It has to be the bank draft. She flashes to the P.S. on Gracie’s note.

  Don’t tell anybody about the money or he will come for it.

  Only no one knows about the bank draft. No one but a dead girl and a dog. She stares at Levi. He perks his ears as if to say, Wasn’t me. Ollie? He’d take it to his grave. Gus thought she was being sneaky, but maybe she was followed to Perth.

  She closes her eyes. She can see herself walking to the Buick outside the post office. As she gets into her car a truck passes. A girl rides by on a red bike. A car with tinted windows is parked across the street near a bright yellow fire hydrant.

  A black Impala. Shit.

  She opens her eyes. She saw everything, but her mind was whirling so much she wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t register. It was right in front of her. The same Impala that ran her car off the road.

  Snapshots begin to form a montage of images in her brain. A black car parked at the shady end of the parking lot of Dez’s apartment. A black car knocking into her bumper on the highway. A black car under a tarp in Rory’s garage at the back of his prope
rty. A stakeout car. A getaway car. A decoy. Maybe she’s seen too many old movies, but she’s sure it’s the one that’s been following her this whole time. She caught a glimpse of the license plate from the ditch when she was run off the road. An A and a V. Gus checks her phone for the photo she took of the car in Rory’s garage. The license plate is clearly visible. AVMN 618. Same car she saw in Perth.

  One in short pants. One with a skin condition.

  Rory and Dez.

  Her uncles.

  Ollie. Fuck.

  A quick phone call to the Perth post office and Augusta’s worst fears are confirmed. It was Ollie who spilled the beans about the bank draft. Peaches doesn’t tell her this outright, but Gus knows it has to be true when she hears the horrific details that unfolded after her visit with Ollie the day before.

  Peaches clocked out like usual at five. Oliver was fine when she left. He said he’d lock up. Peaches found him this morning. He had almost bled to death. Someone had cut off some of his fingers with a pair of pruning shears. All except one. Whoever did it got him to open the safe. Peaches blurts out things she’s likely been told not to talk about, but she doesn’t seem to be in control of herself. Her voice is a high-pitched whine that comes in snotty heaving waves.

  “Did they get the list before he destroyed it?”

  Before Peaches can answer, someone tells her to hang up. Likely one of the investigators on the scene. She does and the phone goes dead.

  Gus trembles uncontrollably. She feels responsible. She led them right to Ollie. He’s been horribly mutilated and it’s all her fault. Ollie, Renata, Manny. She’s played with these people’s safety, with their very lives. Thought she was being clever. Elusive. Careful. But she was really just completely out of her league. Every road she’s traveled, every person she’s visited, they’ve been watching and following.