Pump Fake

by Michael Beck

"You were twitching and mumbling. Do you still dream about what happened?" She touched the tattoo on my stomach.

  "Sometimes."

  "The accounts I read said the son found the parents. That must have been terrible."

  "It was a long time ago."

  "But you never stop thinking about it, do you?"

  "No."

  "So was that how Jade was injured?"

  "Yes, I found her in bed with a fractured skull."

  "And she hasn't talked since?"

  "No. Though she's recently started to talk in her sleep."

  "Who looks after her?"

  "When she's not with me or Bear, she stays at SeaView Sanitarium."

  "Is that why you live at Heavenly Falls? Because it's near SeaView?"

  "Yes."

  "Did they ever catch who did it?"

  So she didn't know. She also hadn't made the connection between Cupid and my parents' deaths. The media was still only aware of the Abrahams' murder. I knew this wouldn't continue for long. I was surprised news of the other murders hadn't already leaked out. I debated what to tell Bob. I didn't want the media to tie my parents' death to Cupid. Could I trust her? I decided to hedge my bets.

  "No," I said.

  "No one was ever arrested?"

  "Never."

  "Did they have a suspect?"

  "Not really. They investigated all our family friends, relatives and acquaintances, but could never find anyone with a motive. After a few years it was put in with the other cold cases."

  "What about you? Have you ever stopped looking?"

  "No."

  "I didn't think so. Have you got any closer?"

  "I still don't know who did it," I said, avoiding an outright lie. "I don't want you writing about this."

  "You didn't have to say that. I wouldn't write anything without asking you. You don't trust me, do you?"

  "It's not that. I just know you're like a bloodhound. Once you have a sniff of a story there's no stopping you."

  "Sometimes publicity can be good, especially if the case has stagnated, like your parents'. It might help the police take a fresh look at it or help flush out witnesses. It doesn't have to be a bad thing."

  "I know. But I have a new line of investigation going right now which I would like to see through before anything goes public." Again, true.

  "Okay, but if you need anything you only have to ask. I do have access to a lot of resources that could be quite useful."

  "Thanks." I ran my hand lightly over her breast and down her stomach. "You know, there's one resource I wouldn't mind access to right now."

  She smiled. "Access to that resource is limited. It's classified."

  "I can see why. It is pretty special. But I think I might have clearance to go there."

  "You do, do you? You want to show me?"

  "Okay. Here it is."

  She giggled. "That's some clearance, Mr. Tanner. I'm not sure I'm rated to accept that."

  "Sure you are. See?"

  "Um."

  CHAPTER 49

  Dedrick King may have started off just owning the Herald, but he had outgrown Leadville a long time ago. He now owned many businesses across the US, including several newspapers, King's Real Estate Company, King's Transport and King's Steel Plant. Dedrick oversaw most of his operations from his home on Long island, leaving the day-to-day supervision to local managers.

  Of course, if you were the son of the filthy rich, you got to play around with one of daddy's toys. King's Real Estate was run by Kyle King. The head offices were in New Jersey, in a two-story building with a façade entirely of reflective glass.

  I watched our reflections grow larger and larger as we walked up to the front door.

  "How do you reckon they keep the glass so clean? It takes me a day to clean my windows," said Bear.

  "Have you heard of window cleaners?"

  "But the place is so big. By the time they finished, it would need another clean."

  "That's not such a big deal. I keep mine clean without any trouble."

  "Last time I checked, you cleaned your windows by turning on the windshield wipers."

  "Yeah, but that doesn't happen unless I remember."

  We entered the foyer. A pretty, dark haired girl behind a counter was talking on the phone.

  "You really think this is a smart idea?" said Bear.

  "I never said smart. I said it was an idea."

  The secretary hung up. "Can I help you?" she said.

  "Yes, we'd like to see Kyle King?"

  "Do you have an appointment? He's very busy at the moment, getting ready for the election."

  "No, but we're old friends."

  "Oh. Can I have your name?"

  "Just tell him the Fantastic Five are here."

  She stared, confused. "Fantastic Five?"

  "Just tell him. He'll understand."

  She disappeared through a door.

  "Fantastic Five?" said Bear.

  I shrugged.

  "There's only two of us," he said.

  "That wasn't the point."

  "You could have called us the Dynamic Duo. That would have worked. Accurate and succinct, with a hint of threat to it. But Fantastic Five? You saw. You lost her straight away."

  "You finished?"

  "Besides, weren't the Fantastic Five from a movie? Do you want to impress or bore this guy?"

  "That was the Fantastic Four, you idiot. I'll explain later."

  The receptionist returned and smiled at me. "Go right in, Mr. Fantastic. The first door on the right."

  "See?" I said as I walked through the door into a passageway.

  "If you're Mr. Fantastic who am I?"

  "That's obvious. You look like you ate five people. You're Mr. Five."

  I recognized Kyle King as soon as I entered the room. He was the only one of the Fantastic Five who still looked the same as in the photo. He was slim, about six feet tall, with brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. Though not imposing physically, as soon as he stood up from behind his desk, I was struck by the force of his personality. He oozed charm and sincerity and I could see why he was going into politics. I hated him on sight.

  Behind me and to the side stood another man. Not the kind I like standing behind me. He had fair hair, pale eyelashes, and wore a blue and gray pin stripe suit. A yellow handkerchief jutted out of the suit pocket. He had a tooth pick sticking out of the half smile on his face, as if he found something funny. But there was probably very little in the world that really amused him. His eyes were dead, with pale green irises. No feeling, no emotion in them, just eyes that barely registered that you existed.

  There was something unnervingly reptilian about him. Perhaps it was the absolute stillness he maintained. Most people when they stand, rock from foot to foot, continually change their body position.

  I remember one time at the zoo, looking through the glass at a chameleon. For five minutes, I stood there. It didn't move, twitch, breathe or blink. This guy stood just as immobile. He made the chameleon look like a talk-show host.

  An interesting companion for a senatorial candidate.

  "Mine's bigger than yours," I said to King.

  He glanced at Bear. "It's not always size that counts."

  "That's just something your girlfriend says."

  "You have me at a disadvantage, Mr...?"

  "Tanner. Mark Tanner. I'm a friend of Troy Decker's."

  "Pleased to meet you, Mark."

  We shook hands. His grip was firm, his eyes steady and he had a smile that would make a nun drop her clothes. I glanced down to make sure my watch was still on my wrist.

  "So, you know who Troy is?" I said, curious to see if he would deny it.

  "Of course. Fantastic Five. How could I forget? They were the best years of my life. Though hopefully not forever. As you can see, I have some other exciting possibilities happening."

  He gestured towards the stacks of signs leaning against the walls of his office. Most were posters of him smiling, with th
e caption, King for the Senate.

  "So you knew Toby Dyson changed his name?" I said.

  "Of course. I was one of the ones who encouraged him to do it."

  "And why was that?"

  "If you don't mind, may I ask what interest it is of yours?"

  "I've been working with Troy trying to help him with a few issues. I don't know if you are aware of some of the things that have been happening to him?"

  "I'm running for the Senate, Mr. Tanner. I'm aware of everything in the media."

  "Especially, things that might affect you?"

  King shrugged. "I'd be a liar if I said otherwise. Of course, I want to get elected. But besides that, Troy is a dear, close friend of mine and I will always take an interest in his welfare. I was most relieved when the drug and gun charges against him were dropped."

  "So you know that Troy has been the victim of some kind of campaign to discredit him in the eyes of the public and destroy his career?"

  "Yes. It's outrageous to read some of the things that have been written about Troy. He's one of the best people I have known. Loyal, generous, trustworthy. A real friend."

  Trustworthy is right. Troy had kept King's secret all these years. The question was why? "Yes, Troy told me you were all close."

  In fact, he had told me the complete opposite. "The Fantastic Five. All coming from such a small town, it must have made for a unique bond?"

  King nodded almost regally. "Friendships forged in childhood are the best and strongest, don't you agree?"

  Funnily enough, I did. Bear had bailed me out of fights in kindergarten, and Liz... Well, better not to go there.

  "So that Thanksgiving weekend when Ashley died must have been devastating for the four of you?"

  King's expression grew somber.

  I kind of got the idea that he had every conceivable emotional expression down pat.

  "Yes. It was an absolute tragedy. Ashley was the sweetest girl, and for her to die in such a tragic accident made it doubly hard to accept."

  "It must have been even worse for you, seeing that you were supposed to be on that trip and weren't?"

  King still regarded me with the same genial, kindly smile. I wasn't buying it for an instant. "Why is that, Mr. Tanner?"

  "If you had been there it might not have happened. The course of events might have been different."

  "That's true. But you can't change life, can you? All I could do was to be there for them afterwards and help them in any way I could. Why this obsessive interest in that weekend, Mr. Tanner?"

  "I think it might have something to do with what is happening to Troy."

  "Why is that?"

  "Life hasn't been too good for the three who came back from that weekend. Franklin died unemployed and a drunk. Maxwell is likely to go to jail. And Decker's career is in a tailspin. They really didn't live up to the Fantastic Five moniker, did they?"

  King raised his chin and looked nobly sorrowful. "I'm afraid none of them have made wise choices with their lives. It is regrettable, because they really were the most gifted group of people I've ever seen. They could have been anything. What is the saying? You are the decisions you make."

  "Well, not all of the Fantastic Five made dumb choices, did they?" I glanced pointedly around his office.

  King inclined his head. "Thank you. Unlike them, I had caring parents who watched over me. I know I was lucky. I tried to help them in any way I could, but you can't run people's lives for them. In the end, every person has to make their own way."

  "There's no denying that," I agreed. "But you can see how it seems slightly odd that all three of their lives have nose-dived since that weekend? My thinking is that someone might be trying to get back at them for Ashley's death, so I need to find out as much as I can about what happened at the cabin."

  King opened his hands. "But it was an accident. An awful, awful accident. It wasn't anyone's fault. From what I hear the boys did everything they could to find Ashley."

  "Not everyone sees it that way. Henry Hunter for instance. He suggests that Ashley's death wasn't an accident."

  "That's just his grief and anger talking. I spoke to all of the boys, and they did nothing wrong. Well, nothing except for getting drunk and high and they were all culpable, even pure Ashley."

  I studied him closely. His mask had slipped for a moment.

  "You said 'pure'? You knew Ashley was a virgin?"

  "We all knew. Leadville was a tiny town. Everyone knew everything about everyone."

  Not everything. Thoughts of doctors and helicopters floated through my mind.

  "I hear you went out with Ashley a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving?"

  King made a throwing away gesture and the smile stayed painted on his face. His jaw must be getting sore. "We went to the movies one time, that's all. It wasn't a date. We were just friends."

  "Did any of the others go with you?"

  "No. It was just the two of us."

  "So, a sixteen-year-old boy and girl, alone at the movies? Last time I checked, that is a date."

  King's smile seemed to quiver. "Like I said, we were just friends."

  "Did you ever go out as 'friends' again?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  For the first time his smile left him. "You can't go out with a dead person, can you, Mr. Tanner?"

  "Well, you can, but the neighbors might talk, mightn't they? So, you must have been pretty ill to pull out of the trip? You would have been looking forward to it. A chance to get away with your four best friends?"

  His smile was back on. Mr. Genial again. "I got a real bad case of stomach flu the night before they left. I was sick as a dog for a few days. In fact, I was so far out of it I didn't even learn of Ashley's accident until the day after it happened."

  "Yeah, I knew you must have been very sick to not go. I've seen some photos of you guys up there at the cabin and it seemed like you always had a hell of a time."

  "We knew how to have fun," agreed King.

  "Yeah, I bet you did. In fact, wait a minute. Do I have it with me?" I dug into my pockets. "Yeah, here it is. I thought I had it." I unfolded the photo I had found inside Maxwell's computer and held it up. "This is just what I'm talking about. Look at you guys! It looks like you're having a ball. One big happy family. When was this this one taken? The year before the accident?"

  King's genial smile grew paper thin as he studied the picture. I had a sudden sense of something circling deep below the surface. I glanced over my shoulder at Chameleon. He hadn't moved an inch and didn't even appear to be looking at me. Yet, I felt a concentration of intensity on me that made my shoulder blades itch.

  "A couple of years before, I think," King finally spoke, but it was way too late.

  "Yeah? That long ago? I don't know. You all look older than fourteen. You look at least fifteen to me. Even sixteen, don't you think?"

  King smiled again. Mr. Nice-Guy was back. "Fourteen...fifteen, who cares?"

  "Yeah, that's true, I don't suppose it matters. It's just that I notice you all have that cute tattoo. FF. Fantastic Five. Fourteen is kind of young to get a tattoo, isn't it? Especially back in 2003 in a small country town. It struck me as odd, that's all."

  King shrugged. "Fifteen then. To tell the truth, I can't remember. Does it matter?"

  "I don't suppose it does." I went to slip the photo back into my pocket then stopped. "Hey, did you notice that Ashley had a tattoo, too? Do you remember her getting one? That must have created quite a stir? What with her dad being such a strict disciplinarian?"

  King studied me. I felt the dark creature begin to rise from the depths.

  His smile widened. "You know, I had forgotten all about that. I think she got it in the summer of 2002."

  "Is that right? The year before she died. Okay, then."

  I was about to put the picture away when King held his hand out.

  "I don't have any keepsakes of our group like that one. Would you mind if I kept it?"

  I gav
e him back his smile. "How about I send you a copy?" I slipped it into my back pocket.

  "Thanks. I'd appreciate it," he said through gritted, smiling teeth.

  I bet you would.

  "Well, thanks for seeing me. If you can think of anything that would help Troy, don't hesitate to call me."

  "Oh, I won't, Mr. Tanner. Anything to help Troy. But I'm pretty busy right now so I may not be able to contact you directly. Anything I have to say you might hear through my press secretary, Donovan here. Donovan will pass on any message I have for you accurately and promptly, I can assure you."

  I glanced at Donovan who was watching me and not watching me, all at the same time, as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth from side to side. He looked like a chameleon eyeing a particularly juicy fly wandering past.

  "Donovan's your press secretary?"

  "Oh, yes. He's very good at it."

  "I bet. And Bear here is my biographer."

  "Oh? You're famous? I haven't heard of you before."

  I smiled. "I'm sure you will be hearing a lot more of me in the future."

  He smiled back. "I'm sure I will."

  When I paused at the door, King and Donovan hadn't moved.

  "Oh, one thing I forgot to ask," I said.

  "I'm sure you did," said King.

  "Ashley Hunter's missing panties? The cops couldn't find them. And neither Decker or Maxwell knew what happened to them. They never mentioned them to you, did they?"

  "No. No one ever mentioned them to me."

  "Hmm. Thought I'd ask. It always struck me as odd. How does a pair of panties disappear from a snow-bound cabin? Doesn't it strike you as odd?"

  "Some dead girl's panties are not something I spend much time thinking about, Mr. Decker."

  "Oh? I'm the opposite. I think about them all the time. Who knows? If they ever turned up, they might explain what actually happened up there? They might even tell us if Henry Hunter was right? Wouldn't that be funny?"

  "Hilarious," said King. He was smiling but I don't think he found it funny at all.

  CHAPTER 50

  Bear, Faith and I were at Mole's, going over the Cupid case. Faith was checking the crime scene photos while Bear and I were checking the victim's backgrounds. Mole was doing his thing on the computer.

  "If Cupid is something like a therapist or youth worker, that would explain how he was able to gain access to each of the victim's homes," said Faith. "Either they knew him, or trusted him because of his job, and invited him into their homes."