AS HE AND Astrid head back to their truck, Denver spots the Autobiography in the parking lot. Four men are stashing luggage in the back; a woman with a long blonde ponytail stands by. “That’s the woman Kathy said she thought was Rick’s ex,” he says.
“Yeah? I didn’t see them.”
“They were on their way out, so we just saw their backs. The ponytail, though…”
“Wanna go introduce yourself?”
“Nope!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes photos of the group. “I’ll send Rick some pictures, though.”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s just another curious thing. You know I’ve been wondering about that vehicle, and three days ago I’d never even heard of Pillerton. And now a group of people from a town not much bigger than a shit stain a couple thousand kilometers away, is climbing into it?” His thoughts trail off as he stands watching the Autobiography until it drives out onto the highway and speeds off.
“You ever hear the expression: ‘it’s a small world’? And I doubt Rick and Kathy would appreciate you calling their hometown a shit stain,” Astrid tells him when he finally climbs into the truck.
“Where d’ya think I got it from?”
♦ ♦ ♦
It isn’t until he’s reviewing the photos later Denver recognizes one of the men. “Whoever they are, Briggs knows them,” he mutters under his breath. Briggs is from Saskatchewan but didn’t he say he lives in Regina? But Pillerton isn’t that far from Regina. He makes a mental note to ask Evan who these people are the next time he sees him.
Eighteen
Don’t Be Silly
“JUST SO YOU know, I won’t be coming out here again.” Annie puts her phone in her purse as she picks it up, turns her back to Bearon, and starts walking toward the door.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. I’m not coming back,” she says over her shoulder.
“Don’t be silly.”
“See? You call me silly. I’m not being silly!” She turns to face him, lower lip trembling. “Why do you think me calling an end to this—this—this thankless, one-sided relationship is me being silly?”
Bearon gets up from his lounger and comes to her, cupping her shoulders as he draws her to him to kiss her. She remains rigid and although she allows the kiss, she doesn’t kiss him back.
“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. “What’s wrong?”
“As if you don’t know!” This comes out as a near-sob; Annie shrugs his hands off her shoulders and pulls away.
“No, sweetheart, I don’t know.” He reaches for her hand but she snatches it away.
“Now I’m sweetheart?”
“Of course, you’re sweetheart. You’re my sweetheart. You know that.”
“No, I don’t know that, because that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that.”
“Naw, that’s not true!” He takes her hand again, and this time she draws a couple of deep breaths but doesn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I always think of you as my sweetheart. If I haven’t told you that before, I should have.” He pulls her close and puts both arms around her. She doesn’t return the hug and leaves her arms hanging by her sides, but doesn’t move away.
“You’re feeling bad about something. Let’s sit down and talk about it.”
She allows him to lead her to the couch in the living room and when they’re both sitting, he pulls her close again. “Tell me about it, Annie,” he whispers. “Come on. I hate to see you feeling bad but help me out here, sweetheart. I really don’t know what’s bothering you.”
She’s quiet for a couple of minutes while he strokes her hair, then says, “Do you think I like being passed around to your friends? I only do it as a favour to you. Because you say it helps you out. But I hate it! I’m sure they all think I’m a slut.”
“Naw…”
“Yeah, they do! They don’t have no respect for me! And now this week-end, with that…that ritual! All those people will remember me when they come in to Dot’s…and those strangers…!” This last comes out as a sob.
“They’ll remember how awesome you are, and you’ll remember them, too,” Bearon reminds her. He holds her tight, tucking her head in and kissing the back of her neck, letting her cry. Goddammit, he thinks, she can’t walk! How will I replace her? Maybe Kiersten? She is a good fuck, but would she even get wet if she saw me in the daylight? Annie’s the only person around here who has seen me without my hood. She’s gotten used to what I look like but it took a while. No, better do something to keep her.
When her sobs abate, he says, “sweetheart, you know the teachings. Now you’re not only a True Believer, but you’re also Purified and a Ceremonial Wife! You’re my Cere-monial Wife!”
“I’m everyone’s Ceremonial Wife!”
“And all the men are your Ceremonial Husbands. And no one thinks less of you, in fact everyone loves you. Everyone loves everyone. Like it’s meant to be. You’ve read the bible. Men always had many wives, even among their brothers’ wives and their own daughters. It’s only when the False Religions got powerful that it changed. It’s the natural way of things. Like a pride of lions. Two or three males looking after any number of females. Humans are not meant to be any different.”
He strokes her hair, then holds her away a bit and says, “You know, I have something for you. I got it for your birthday but I think I’ll give it to you now. I was having a hard time keeping it secret anyway. I’ve been fantasizing how it will look on you.”
He pushes away from her and gets slowly to his feet, turning his face away from her so she can’t see him clenching his jaw against the needles of pain in his hip.
“You stay right here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He goes to his office and slumps down in the chair and opens the pencil drawer. There’s a bottle of Oxycontin, and he dry swallows a couple of tablets, then closes that drawer and opens the file drawer. Behind the last file is a small box. He comes back to sit next to Annie and hands it to her.
“Here, sweetheart. Open it.”
She takes the lid off the box to expose a sturdy gold chain with a large round pendant, and gasps. “Oh my god!” She lifts the pendant and examines it closely. “Is it a coin? Some kind of actual coin?”
“Yeah, a real old one. You like it?”
“Oh, I do! I do! But it must’ve been expensive.”
“Yeah, it’s expensive. I wouldn’t insult you by giving you something cheap, sweetheart. I wanted to prove how much I value you.” He kisses her, and coaxes, “put it on. The chain should be long enough to fit over your head so you don’t have to undo it. Here,” he takes it from her and holds it up to her forehead.
She ducks her chin and Bearon works the chain over her hair until it’s around her neck. He opens the top buttons on her Dot’s Diner shirt and lets the coin slip inside to nestle in her cleavage.
“Beautiful,” he whispers huskily, and plants kisses around it. Then he tells her, “I, er, there’s another reason I didn’t give it to you sooner. I worry—I’ve been worrying. I don’t think you should let anyone see it. It’s worth quite a bit. Some of those guys at Dot’s see it on you—you know the guys I mean—if one of them realizes how much it’s worth, they might hurt you to get it. I’d feel awful if you got hurt.”
Annie’s eyes fill. “Oh sweetie! Thank you!”
“Maybe you should leave it here and just wear it for me when we’re making love.”
“No, I’ll be careful. I’m sorry I was so…”
“Don’t say another word. Just be sure to keep it tucked in outta sight, then,” he says.
“I will!”
He works his hands into her bra to scoop her breasts out and pushes his face into her cleavage.
“Bear, I have to go…”
“This won’t take long,” he murmurs. “You know how hot you make me.” He pushes his erection against her thigh.
She slides down to kne
el on the floor and turns to him, working her hands into his sweatpants. “Here, baby, let me take care of that for you.”
Her hot mouth with its busy tongue feels wonderful; he lets out a husky groan. Is the Oxy kicking in already or is it Annie’s attentions that makes him forget his aching hip? He collapses back to enjoy it. But he’s thinking, goddamn fuckin’ shit! That necklace must be worth thousands. Now how am I going to get it back?
And then he’s surprised by the realization he is fond of Annie. Fond enough to let her keep the pendant. It’s a small price to pay for all she does for him. Anyway, it’s only money, and he’ll soon have a lot more of that.
Nineteen
Undercover
CLINT SLOUCHES BACK on the sofa after draining his beer. The room is illuminated only by the reruns of Law and Order, Special Victims Unit on the sixty inch flat screen TV. It’s nearly three a.m., and he should be sleeping. He can’t, though, because his bedroom is occupied, and he’s trying hard not to listen to the sounds coming from it. Sounds that are getting louder.
He takes the remote for the TV, punches up the volume, and reminds himself he shouldn’t be pissed that she’s so loud. It’s not her fault she’s with him, after all, and he did tell her she should always fake an orgasm and make sure it’s convincing.
“Doesn’t have to make it that fuckin’ convincing,” he mutters.
The sounds coming from the bedroom stop, but it isn’t until a full nineteen minutes by his watch that he hears the shower running. He thinks, what the hell? Were they cuddling?
Finally Bearon comes out into the living room. “Thanks, Clint,” he says. “You know, we wouldn’t have to kick you out of your bed if you put some furniture in the other bedroom. Why don’t I send something? Excess from the Lodge.”
“Sure. Or maybe I should just send her to your place and she can come back in the morning.”
“All kinds of reasons why that won’t work. Not open for discussion. Best thing you can do is to get her True Believer status.”
“Workin’ on it,” Clint says. He stands, clicks the TV off, and tosses the remote on the coffee table.
“Good.” Bearon goes out the door, letting it slam behind him.
Clint watches out the window as the Range Rover leaves, then locks the door and goes back to the bedroom. The light in the ensuite is on, and Kiersten is in the shower. He debates joining her but thinks better of it, drops his boxers and climbs into the still-warm bed instead. With his head on the pillow, his senses are assaulted by the smell of the other man, and sex. He gets up, pulls on sweat pants, and goes back to the living room.
Finally he hears the water stop running, and in moments, Kiersten comes into the living room, one towel wrapped around her torso and another turban-like on her head.
“Oh, here you are,” she says. “Coming to bed?”
“No.”
“But it’s the middle of the night.”
“No. Really?”
She eases down onto the sofa beside him and takes his hand. “Bothers you?”
“What do you think?”
“Clint, baby, I…”
“I know. It’s not your fault.” He blows out a long breath.
They sit quietly for the passing of several minutes, then Clint pulls her into a hug and says. “Really. I know it’s not your fault. You’re a trooper, doing it just for me. Tell me something, though. You fantasize it’s me when he’s in you?”
“I told you I do.”
“Is he better than me? Bigger?”
“Clint, don’t…”
“Forget I asked!” Clint pushes her away and stands. “I’m just going to shower and then hit the road.”
“Oh? So early?”
“Yeah, nice to get an early start.”
“When are you back?”
“Dunno for sure. Sometime next week. Don’t worry. You won’t be lonely. He’s coming back again tomorrow night and the way things are going, maybe all this week again. You’ll hardly have time to even think about me. I might as well move out.”
“Baby, you don’t mean that! You can’t move out. And I think of you all the time. I love you!”
“Yeah,” Clint says, and reminds himself she’s not a real girlfriend, just another ho getting softened up to join the fucking pool. “Tell you what. Why don’t you get your things moved in here while I’m away? Des must have a buddy with a pickup. He can help you move.”
“Oh, Clint,” Kiersten exclaims, “thank you, baby! I’ll have everything all nice when you get back!”
“Sure.” Clint gives her a quick kiss, then gets up and goes to the linen closet at the end of the hall for fresh towels. He heads through the bedroom and into the ensuite, where he starts the shower just vacated by Kiersten. Moments after he climbs in, Kiersten comes in, drops her towels, and joins him. She squirts shower gel into her hand and begins lathering his genitals. As water pelts down on them she looks up and says, “by the way, the Vampire said something interesting. He’s coming into a lot of money soon.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s always coming into a lot of money soon. He loves to brag about the business. That the business…is…booming.”
“Not business. Something else.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Just that it’s nothing to do with anything else. And it’s a lot of money.”
“Oh?”
“Want me to try and find out what it’s about? You know, if there’s a next time?”
“Whenever you can, baby. Make sure he doesn’t get suspicious, though.”
“I won’t. He likes to talk. Maybe he has no one else to talk to.
“I don’t think that’s it. He’s got plenty of people begging to suck his dick.”
“You mean figuratively. And I’ll bet they’re all men, and you know men never talk about anything important. They tell women things they’d never talk about with other men.”
“More likely it’s because you’re such a good listener. And you must be putting on a convincing act in the sack or he wouldn’t keep coming back for more.”
He wishes he could convince himself it’s just an act. Another thing Bearon brags about besides all the money he has or is going to have, is the size of his dick.
He thinks, I’ll have to get used to him using her. What he doesn’t know is that I’m using him. She’s my asset. My undercover agent. Literally under cover.
Between that thought and the attention she’s paying to his erection, he forgets he’s resentful.
Twenty
News Hour
ASTRID TURNS INTO the cul-de-sac and scans the houses for the green rancher with number 117 above the garage doors. It’s at the end, set back further than its neighbours behind a tidy lawn and surrounded by low shrubs. She pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine.
Kiersten comes out the front door and locks it behind her, then trots down the steps and comes to the passenger door.
“Hi, Astrid,” she says as she pulls the door open and climbs in. “Thanks for picking me up!”
“You’re welcome,” Astrid responds. “So. Where should we go? It’s such a nice day maybe we should sit outside somewhere. Riverview has a nice patio.”
“Yeah, but you know, I’m there so much. Could we go somewhere else?”
“Sure. Let’s see…how about Cherry Creek? I think they have a patio.”
“They do. I’ve been there with Clint. It’s nice.”
“Cherry Creek it is, then,” Astrid agrees, and backs out of the driveway.
At the pub, Kiersten leads the way to the patio at the back. As they’re passing through the restaurant, a server says, “sit wherever you want. I’ll be right with you.”
Once seated under an umbrella next to the planter and rail structure that encloses the patio, Kiersten says, “you have no idea how happy I was to hear from you, Astrid! I miss having a girl friend. I’ve been in town since April and haven’t managed to make any friends yet.”
“Well, at last we found a
time that worked for both of us to actually get together and not just gab on the phone,” Astrid says. “I’m not really social myself, but I thought you’d have lots of friends by now. Working the desk at the Riverview, you meet lots of people, like Kathy.”
“She lives so far away, though. That’s the problem with meeting people through my job. They’re always just passing through. Kathy and I were just getting to know each other.”
“But your boyfriend, he must have friends you all hang out with.”
The server appears and puts menus on the table. She asks, “can I get you something while you’re deciding what you want?”
“Just coffee for now,” Astrid tells her.
“I’ll have a glass of house red,” Kiersten says.
“Sure thing.” The server bustles away.
“Since you’re driving, I might as well take advantage of the opportunity to have wine with lunch,” Kiersten says. “Do you like nachos? They make a great sharing size here.”
“Sure! Let’s have that,” Astrid agrees. “I guess you’re the designated driver when you go out?”
“Yeah, of course. Isn’t that how it works for every couple?”
“Well, my husband never has more than one or two beers when we go out. Which isn’t very often. He’s a big guy so it’s not enough that he’s even close to the limit. Good thing, because sometimes all it takes for me to get a buzz is one glass!”
“I know, hey? Me too! Funny how that works!”
“So, your boyfriend. He must have friends who have girlfriends. None of them you could be friends with?”
“He’s got friends, but we don’t hang with them. Clint has only been living here a few years, and he’s on the road a lot. His friends are guys he works with. He says when he’s home, the last thing he wants to do is spend his time with them!” Kiersten chuckles, takes a sip of her coffee, then says, “I’ve only met one. And we don’t socialize with him.”
“No?”
“No. He’s a big, creepy guy. I call him the Vampire because I’ve never seen him except in the dark. I told Clint I think he can’t come out until the sun goes down but Clint says he’s got lots of friends and we’re lucky he spends any time with us, but socialize? Eww. I don’t think so. It surprises me anyone would want to hang out with him. But he’s the boss, so…”
The Bear Mountain Secret Page 20