by Arthur Day
“Dunno. Haven’t learned any new ones lately.”
Her tone of her voice was cool and somewhat remote. Uh Oh. Did I do something wrong? “You sound a little peeved.”
“You disappeared without a word for two days.”
“I went back to the lake. Can you come over or we could meet somewhere. I have news.”
“Good news?”
“I wish.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully. There was silence on the line and I thought that either she was about to hang up in a dudgeon or checking her schedule for that evening. Showings when people got off work and could see a property were common. Often the wife would look at it and think that maybe her husband or partner would be interested. Phone calls to the agent on a hot property would come at all hours. An agent’s share on the sale of a large property could be huge but it was a seven-by-twenty-four hour business and hugely competitive. Many agents worked only part time out of respect for their marriages. Dianne was single so all her income, as far as I knew, came from real estate. She had once hinted that she had another profession, but she’d never told me what it was. If she could not do it I would tell her about Pam and then spend the evening going through her papers with the help of Jack Daniels, an old and favored stand-by.
“Okay. I’ve got a showing in an hour and then I’ll be over. I’ll bring a pizza. Okay?”
“Extra cheese and bacon.”
“You got it buster.” She hung up.
The pizza was good. I had mine with a Heineken and a Jack. Dianne settled for just the beer. I had purposely avoided any mention of Pam while we ate and drank. Dianne was at her best. Funny, droll, full of little anecdotes and descriptions of her customers that had me laughing in spite of the seriousness of the moment. It was as if she sensed what I had to tell her and was trying to make me more gently human than Pam’s death had left me. The evening went on, the darkness cloaking us in its anonymity.
“So, what’s going on?” she finally asked. We were sitting on my old couch side by side looking down at the remains of the pizza and the empty beer bottles.
“I found Pam. Someone had raped and murdered her and dumped the body in a spot that she and I used to go to when we wanted to be alone.” I got up, went to the little table by the window and poured some more jack into my glass. Now that I had said what I had to say, I felt that I had somehow besmirched Pam’s memory.
“Oh my God,” Dianne murmured. “Someone knew about your habits and haunts. That should say something about the killer.”
“Someone from my life with her, for sure but they may have dumped her there as a message to me and so people around me could be in danger right now and that includes you,” I said as I sat down on the couch again.
“A grisly warning?”
“Perhaps. Whoever it is undoubtedly knows where I live and the people I hang out with. You should maybe stay away from me much as I hate to say that, but I would be destroyed if they got to you in addition to Pam. I don’t think I could handle that.” We looked at each other for a long moment. The time for jokes and laughter was over. I was hoping that was temporary, but I could not blame Dianne if she decided that I was right, and she was better off with someone who did not pose a threat to her.
It was one of those moments when two people really have a chance to understand each other. This happens constantly in war and less often in civilian life such as sudden death of a child or a chronic and acute disease in a person still young. It is indeed, as a Firestone ad once put it, where the rubber meets the road. I could not tell what Dianne was thinking. She looked out the picture window on the far wall, but I doubt she saw what was out there.
Finally, she rose from the couch and walked over to where she had dropped her large handbag as she came in earlier. Reaching into it she brought out a nasty looking Colt Python .357 magnum. “I use 120 grain FHP rounds and learned to use it very well. I taught myself to use the gun, but my uncle taught me to use a knife. I have a concealed carry permit and a PI license so if someone comes after you we stand a better chance together. That, at least, is what I’m thinking.” She stared across the room at me stony faced, still holding the Colt in her right hand.
I was so surprised that I could not immediately say anything but just stared at my friend. This was a part of her life that I had never even suspected. Mild mannered real estate agent turns into a female Jack Reacher. Don’t fuck with me. Wow. “I’m glad we’re friends,” I finally managed to say.
Dianne grinned mischievously and thrust the gun back into her bag. “So am I, MJ. I hope this doesn’t change our relationship, but I thought that I had to make you understand that I am not your average simpering haus frau. Had it not been for Pam’s murder, I probably never would have told you, but I couldn’t very well volunteer to stand by your side without some creds that I could do so without endangering you even more or holding you back.” She dropped her handbag back onto the floor by the door and came back to the couch. I had never seen anyone more beautiful than she was at that moment with the light from a lamp throwing her features into bold relief and a tiny smile edging the corners of her mouth. I felt that if we just sat there like bookends forever I would be the happiest man alive.
Dianne was not that patient. “So now what? You got a plan or at least an idea of where to go from here?”
I came out of my daze feeling slightly embarrassed. “Yep.” I got off the couch and motioned towards the table in front of the kitchen area where I’d put the box of Pam’s papers. “This may be the wildest and goosiest of chases, but it is the only lead I, excuse me, we have.” I sat down on the bench running the length of the table and pulled the box towards me.
Pam went around the room pulling the shades over the windows and checking the doors to make sure they were locked. She then sat down on the opposite side of the table, reached into the box and pulled out a handful of papers. “What are we looking for?” she asked as she spread the papers out in front of her and started to sort them by type.
I shrugged. “I’m not really sure. We need someone’s name or a reference to a place or time that may have triggered her murder. Right now, I have nothing. As I said, Paul is checking with Buckmaster to see if he might share whatever he has but he doesn’t have to share anything so it’s really up to us unless we just let him investigate and hope that her murder is resolved.”
Dianne reached into the box and drew out another handful of paper. “Fat chance,” she said.
Two hours later we had gone through the box and I did not know anything more than I had when we started. I stared across the table at Dianne who was sorting the last of her pile. A strand of her hair had fallen across her forehead. She looked as if she could have been a teacher sitting at her desk grading papers and slowly going crazy with the mediocrity of their work.
I got up from the table. “Would you like another drink or coffee or something?” I asked her. Dianne simply shook her head and went on checking the various checks, registers, receipts, notes and calendar entries. “I think I may have something,” she announced and passed a piece of paper across the table to me.
It was a paycheck stub from a couple years back from a company calling itself Worth LLC. Not much to go on but more than we had at the beginning of the evening. Pam had worked for a family member for a while. Perhaps whoever was paying her would know more about why she left the job and maybe other details as well. This could be the break we needed.
DOUGLAS WORTH 2014
As he walked up towards the Pease camp from his parent’s camp he wondered if he was going about this in the right way. He had seen no one up at the Pease camp since he arrived at their place several days before. Doug was determined to further the friendship that he hoped they had begun down in Rockmarsh but, although she had said she would be at the lake she didn’t say when. Hell, he could waste weeks walking up several times a day to check on the presence of cars or music playi
ng or clothes hanging out on the railings to dry or any other sign that Pam was in residence. So far, this whole thing had been a complete waste of time. If his father wanted revenge on the other side of the family, he should get his wrinkled old ass into a handicap van and motor on up here.
Her cabin came into view as he walked up the slope of the little hill. At first, all seemed deserted as it had been the day before and the day before that, but something was different, and it took a minute for me to realize what it was. The window on the second floor was open and he didn’t think that had been so before. He walked the rest of the way to the cabin, saw Pam’s car parked in front of the garage and walked into the central hallway. “Hello the house,” he called and peeked into the living room.
“Be right down,” Pam called out and a moment later came down the stairs with a huge purple beach towel over one arm and wearing a teal bikini. A large LL Bean bag was slung over her right shoulder. He guessed that it contained all the items needed for the beach such as suntan lotion, paperback, hat, shorts, the latest in sunglasses and other paraphernalia. She looked the very picture of the fashionable beach bunny and was so beautiful it took his breath away.
“Sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” he asked
“Probably but nothing important. What brings you up here Doug? I didn’t think you liked Compton. Kinda slow up here for a party animal.” She smiled to show that she hadn’t intended any sarcasm.
He shrugged. “Well maybe I’m slowing down a bit in my advancing years.”
“Well good for you. If you want to go and get your suit on feel free to join me down at the dock.” She went through the living room and out the side door towards the lake. I watched the rise and fall of her ass cheeks under the tiny triangle of fabric and felt the beginnings of an erection. My cousin was truly hot. I hurried to catch up with her and then split off to go to my place and change. I wondered if the old suit in my bedroom still fit. I sensed that this wasn’t the time to let everything hang out, as it were.
“So, what do you find to do aside from working on your tan and watching the grass grow?”
We sat in little beach chairs on the porch of the old boathouse. Pam had her feet up on the cedar railing in front of us. She had just come out of the lake and water glistened on her skin and puddled beneath her chair. She had pushed her hair back with her hands and was slouched back in her chair with her eyes closed. “You’d be surprised. I have friends up here and a close friend who comes up when he can. There’s the golf club and tennis although it’s been years since I’ve played but mostly I just resign temporarily from the rat race and walk and read and chill out.” She opened her eyes and turned to look at me. “You could do with a bit more walking.”
Walking bored the shit out of him, but he had a feeling that what he liked or didn’t like no longer mattered. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted as he looked down at his hairy belly bulging over the swim suit that he had found (yes it was too fucking small. he would need to get a bigger one if he was going to stay at the lake before the present suit turned him into a eunuch). “Where do you walk,” he asked as casually as he could manage.
“Around the lake usually,” Pam replied and then laughed “but you should start with a small walk and gradually increase the distance. All at once is not a good idea. Your body won’t like it, trust me. When I first started this exercise, I walked around the lake and the next morning I was crippled. It felt like every muscle in my body was on fire. I could barely move for a week.”
Doug had no intention of walking any further than he had to, preferably to get another beer out of the fridge if there was no one around to bring him one but he nodded as though he was going to turn over a new leaf and become Mr. America. “Maybe we could start off together and then I will turn back after a short distance.”
“That sounds like a plan to me. I get an early start, though, so if you want company you’ll need to be up and ready about seven okay?”
“Okay,” he replied. Seven in the morning? That would be cruel and unusual punishment. He could probably get away with killing her right now and no one having heard that would blame him. He thought ten in the morning was dammed early but he just nodded his head. Dear old Dad was going to owe him big time for going through all this. He figured that if he knew the route she started on he could later drive that same road looking for likely spots.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” he asked. “When we were kids you were older, so I never got to play with you or anything like that. My father said you got married and now you’re divorced but that’s about all I know. Somebody named McCaal, wasn’t it? Did you have kids?”
“No kids. I knew you back then as little Dougie. You’ve obviously outgrown that moniker.”
“I used to watch you walking down to the road to town with friends,” he said.” You looked so grownup, so sure of yourself that I was always scared to even say hello to you, so I would just stand there and watch as you went by. One day you were by yourself and you turned and said ‘Hi Doug, Whatchs doing?’ I was so surprised that I couldn’t think of anything to say. You must have thought that I was pretty dumb.”
“I don’t remember that, but I never thought you were dumb. Sometimes my parents would go down to have dinner with your parents and I would see you staring at me from halfway up the stairs. Once I remember you stuck your tongue out at me and I laughed.”
The conversation lapsed and for a while we simply sat looking out at the lake. A small sailboat went by, little more than a board with a pole and a sail. Somewhere a dog started barking and then stopped suddenly. This was utterly boring. Doug could not conceive of sitting like this and enjoying it. Pam had taken a paperback from her bag and was apparently engrossed by it. He took the opportunity to admire the fine hair along her forearm and the swell of her breasts beneath the bikini top. He pictured her without the suit but that became rapidly uncomfortable. He definitely needed a swim suit that fit him. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“Thanks Doug, but I have a friend coming up for a few days. I haven’t seen him in a while, so we’ll probably go out for dinner. Thanks for the invite anyway.”
“Who is this friend?”
Pam smiled. “His name is Paul. You might like him.”
He thought he might like to beat the shit out of Paul and send him back wherever he came from. “I might indeed,’ he replied as he got to his feet. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.”
“Okay. See you then.” She went back to her book. He left the boathouse and walked over to the Worth cabin thoughts, both practical and erotic intermingling within him. What to do about her boyfriend, how to make himself indispensable to her, visions of her white legs lying on top of his bed, confusion mounting until, when he reached his cabin he had no thoughts at all but simply moved about like a robot. Make sandwich. Grab beer. Grab a shot of Old Forrester, sit in chair and do nothing for a while. This was all going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be and the fact that she was a hottie made it harder. If she had been a dried up old shrew he knew he could have charmed her into doing whatever he wanted but Pam, although friendly, treated him like a relative instead of a friend. That might not work out at all for the plans hatched by his father who still had murder on his mind if not much else. If Doug needed to walk with her to assure her that he shared her passion for exercise, then he could do that, but he did not see that brutalizing his body was going to accomplish much. Still, he had nothing better to take its place, so Captain America would begin to emerge from his cocoon tomorrow. That was his summer resolution and, since it did not start until the next morning, was a happy thought indeed. He forced himself out of his supremely comfortable chair and went to get another beer. It was a Saturday. He would check out the sports on the local channels and maybe call his bookie if he was still talking to Doug and not arranging to have him dematerialized.
The next morn
ing the alarm went off and he woke up pissed all to hell. Doug brought his fist down on the offending device and turned back over to get some more sleep when he remembered his arrangement with Pam. He couldn’t believe how early it was. Surely the goddamned clock was wrong. Six o’clock in the AM. Jesus Christ almighty. He sat up on the edge of the bed and almost told himself that he could blow this off. She was probably expecting him to do so. Who was he to disappoint her? It was chilly, and the blankets beckoned he forced himself to stand up and wobbly walk to the bathroom where he stood waiting for the beer from the night before to drain out of him. A splash of cold water in my face that almost killed him, and he was ready to go. He would not have to walk very far after all and a few minutes out on the road with Pam would pay dividends later. At least he hoped they would.
“Good morning Doug. Glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you would.”
Pam looked so fresh and energetic that Doug felt slightly nauseous. Where do people get this kind of energy at seven in the morning? She was dressed in green running shorts and a white t-shirt with Goodall’s Store written on it. How very Connecticut. “Here I am in the flesh,” he replied and smiled what he hoped was a smile of friendship and togetherness. “You do this every morning?” he asked wondering if she was one of those amazons on TV that have the exercise classes that are guaranteed to kill the normal person deader than a doornail.
“Almost. Injury or really bad weather keeps me in.” Pam smiled and gestured with her right hand. “C’mon cousin. Let’s beat feet.”
He thought the quarter mile to the paved road leading to town he was slightly winded but still fighting the good fight, as they say in college he guessed. Pam turned left, and they walked another quarter mile. Actually, she walked. He had to sort of jog-walk just to keep up with her. A hill loomed ahead, steep and forbidding. She took the hill without a pause. He crapped out after the first fifty yards. He finally staggered to the top and there she was waiting, looking down on the blue of the lake.