“Shit, that’s in Maine,” he whispered.
He glanced over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that someone was standing nearby, watching him. The doorway and windows were clear, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was somewhere close, watching him. Shrugging it off, he tore a corner from the bottom of the page and quickly copied down the number. Once he got to Maine, all he would have to do is call directory assistance and ask for the address. Snickering under his breath, he replaced the pen on the counter. Confident that he had left no fingerprints with the rubber gloves, he left, making sure to lock the kitchen door behind him.
“Christ on a cross, this is, almost too fucking easy,” he said.
He almost laughed out loud as he got into the car and started it up. When he thought about what he was going to do next, though, the smile quickly melted from his face like spring snow. This was it—the big one. Up until now it had all been penny-ante stuff. He backed around and pulled out of Harry’s driveway, heading for downtown. From there, he intended to cross the bridge over to Council Bluffs, Iowa, and drive straight to the Buzzy Bee Motel.
That’s when the real fun would begin!
Chapter Ten
Motel Rendezvous
Just in case the horny old bastard couldn’t hold himself back and got there early, Alex arrived at the Buzzy Bee a half hour earlier than he probably had to.
He pulled into the parking lot and drove slowly around the building complex once, but he didn’t see Harry’s bright red Camaro. He figured Harry either hadn’t arrived yet or else was driving someone else’s car. Doubts and dark worries began to fill his mind.
What if Harry had gone first to the woman’s house, or decided to surprise her by meeting her at the airport?
What if she had a chance to tell him someone had called her earlier that morning, pretending to be him, so they decided not to come out here today?
And what if Harry had guessed it was Alex who was screwing around, and had called the police who were on their way over here right now?
There was no way of knowing, so Alex told himself not to worry as he parked between two cars facing the motel office and killed the engine. So far he hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing illegal. As long as the cops never found out he had broken into Harry’s house a couple of times, he was clear. He took a deep, steadying breath, glanced at his watch again, and checked to make sure the things he had brought along for the afternoon was still under his car seat. Then he settled down in the seat to wait.
Time passed slowly.
It seemed as though he checked his watch every other goddamned minute. Off to the west, a wide band of purple storm clouds was coming up fast, shadowing the outskirts of Omaha across the river. It would be raining and thundering soon, and Alex wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he contented himself with the thought that there were always going to be things he wasn’t going to be able to control. Eventually, everything would work out as long as he didn’t do anything rash or stupid. He tried to calm himself by thinking how he would just have to be patient and wait. He wasn’t going to make a move unless he was positive he could keep it all under control.
Yeah, those were the key words, here… patience and control.
Of course, he had no idea if Harry was going to show up at all. The woman in Chicago could have contacted him a dozen different ways, especially if she had started thinking that it hadn’t been Harry she had talked to this morning. But like it or not, this was one of those things he couldn’t do anything about. If this plan all went to shit, then fine; he’d just have to come up with something else. It wouldn’t hurt to try to find out the name of that woman. But he had plenty of time, and he was patient. At this point, about all he could do was hope he had been convincing enough to keep that woman away from the motel and Harry’s house—at least until later this afternoon—and that Harry would show up.
Then he could take it from there.
Alex rolled down the window and inhaled the hot air, tainted with the smell of exhaust from the nearby highway. It was almost nauseating. Cars and semis speeding past on the highway created a loud, numbing backdrop of noise. He wished he had a beer to help stop the rushes of excitement and expectation that were racing through him. Hell, even a warm one would go down pretty smooth right now.
No! he told himself. All I have to do… all I CAN do is wait… wait and see what—if anything—happens.
2
Harry got out of his car and walked into his kitchen only seconds after Alex had pulled out of the driveway, but he didn’t see—or notice—Alex’s car, and even if Alex had left any obvious signs that someone had broken into the house, Harry was in such a hurry to get ready that he probably wouldn’t have noticed.
After yanking off his necktie and tossing it along with his sports coat onto the counter, he walked quickly through the kitchen, heading upstairs. He glanced at the answering machine and saw that there were no messages but was in such a hurry that he didn’t notice the power light was off. Whistling jaunty tune, he went into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, started the shower, and stepped in.
The water felt good, almost stinging as it hit his body like hundreds of blunt needle points. Still whistling a hodge-podge of tunes, be shampooed his hair and started washing his body.
Damn, but didn’t the water feel terrific!
And, he told himself, this was only the beginning. It was going to get infinitely better as soon as he saw Elizabeth. From then on, it was going to be one hell of a great afternoon!
“What a wonderful life, a wonderful life,” he sang out loud to no particular tune.
After not seeing Elizabeth for more than a week, he got horny as hell just thinking about her. He had tried calling her at the Chicago Hilton this morning, but she had already left. He wasn’t too worried, though, because they had confirmed the time of their rendezvous over the phone last night.
And—Goddamnit!—he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her!
Just thinking about her full, round breasts and the ways she used her mouth and legs gave him an instant erection. It no longer bothered him that thinking about her thrilled him in ways that thinking about Cindy never did—or, if it ever had, it had been so long ago that he could no longer remember. Elizabeth had rekindled his life, giving it a new spark and energy which, until he had met her, he had been afraid had been lost forever.
He had told his employees that he had a dentist appointment at two o’clock and not to expect him back at the store until three-thirty or four. That would give them two full hours at the motel. Two hours in which they could screw until they were raw! About the only concern he had right now was that, as soon as they were in bed together, he would shoot his wad so fast he’d be useless for the rest of the afternoon. But then he smiled, remembering some of the little tricks Elizabeth knew to help him maintain his interest. His erection throbbed almost painfully as he lathered up the washcloth and scrubbed his crotch.
“Yes sir-ee,” he yelled, leaning his head back and gurgling as his mouth filled up with water. He couldn’t restrain himself from shaking his sudsy fists over his head as he whooped with joy.
“By Jesus, this is going to be one hell of a great afternoon!”
3
“Fuckin’-A! There he is,” Alex whispered when he saw the bright red Camaro pull into the parking lot and stop in the empty parking lot by the front office door. His body stiffened, and his hands clutched the steering wheel like claws as he leaned forward, prepared to duck out of sight below the dashboard if he had to. He was barely breathing as he watched Harry Toland get out of the car and, moving with a jaunty, almost effeminate step, walk up to the front door.
“Yeah, it sure as hell looks like you’ve done this plenty of times before,” Alex said to himself. “What do you do, have an arrangement with the manager to rent a room by the hour? You lousy son of a bitch!”
He considered the plan he had concocted and then wondered if, instead, it might not be b
etter to try to get a few Polaroid shots of Harry with his mistress. Not a bad idea… just a little something to show Cindy once he found her.
And make no mistake—he would eventually find her… and his kids! In spite of the anger that boiled up inside him like lava, he hadn’t lost focus of what he was doing and why. He wanted his goddamned kids back. No one was going to take them away from him without paying dearly!
He lost sight of Harry behind the flash of sunlight reflecting off the plate glass windows, but after a while Harry came back outside, got into his car, and started it up.
Oh, fuck! What’s he doing? Is he leaving? Maybe he called her from the office to make sure she was on her way, or she had somehow gotten a message to him! Maybe the whole gig was up!
Alex watched anxiously as Harry backed the Camaro around. For an instant, it looked like he was going to leave, but then he cut the wheels sharply to the left and drove down the line of units until he parked in front of the next to the last door. He got out of the car and looked around, a satisfied smile splitting his face as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath. In one hand, he held a dozen red roses wrapped in a cone of shiny green paper, and a bottle of champagne; in the other, he tossed a room key up and down like a wise-guy flipping a coin.
“Yeah, awright!” Alex said, unable to stop himself from smiling as he watched Harry unlock the door, step into the darkened room, and close it behind him. He glanced at his watch again and saw that it was just past one o’clock.
“Just like fucking clockwork,” he whispered.
Alex fished the paper bag out from under the car seat and opened it up, spilling the contents onto the seat beside him. After pausing a second to steel his resolve, he picked up the rubber gloves and pulled them on; then he slipped the hunting knife into his hip pocket and opened the car door. As he stood up, he pulled his tee-shirt down to cover the knife as best he could. His hands were already sweating ferociously inside the rubber gloves. After glancing nervously around to see if anyone had noticed him, he made his way quickly across the parking lot to the unit. At the door, he made a fist and knocked twice, lightly.
4
Harry arrived at the Buzzy Bee not more than five minutes late. He was a little bit concerned when he didn’t see Elizabeth’s car in the parking lot, and his concern grew when he found out she hadn’t registered yet or even left a message for him at the front desk. Usually, if she was going to be late, or if there had been a change in plans, she’d call and let him know. After he got a room, signing in as he always did as John Donne, he made a quick call to Eppley Field, the Omaha airport, to confirm that her plane had landed on time. Telling himself not to worry, that he was just being over anxious and she was probably caught in traffic and would be right along, he went to the room, stripped back the bedspread, and started plucking off rose petals and sprinkling them all over the clean, white sheets. When he was finished, he had a quick impression that the bed looked like it was splattered with blood. He wondered if he should get rid of the petals before Elizabeth arrived.
“Damn… satin sheets would have been better,” he said, smiling to himself. “Yeah… black satin sheets.”
He laughed aloud, remembering the time they had rented a room in a fancy hotel downtown. They’d had so much trouble trying to keep from slipping off the satin sheeted bed.
But no, he decided, this looked nice… romantic, and if nothing else, Elizabeth would get a laugh out of it. He went into the bathroom, picked up the ice bucket, and was about to go for some ice for the champagne when there came a light knock at the door.
“Come on in. It’s unlocked, honey,” he called out, starting toward the door. What he had been about to say next instantly died on his lips when the door swung open, and the dark silhouette of a man filled the doorway. The man moved quickly to enter the room, kicking the door shut behind him and quickly snapping the deadbolt lock shut.
“What the fuck—” Harry shouted, backing up into the room. He wasn’t sure if it was real or not, but he thought he heard the distant, throaty growl of thunder.
At first he didn’t recognize the man, but as soon as he shut the door and the sunlit glare from outside was cut off, he saw that it was Alex Harris.
“Christ, Alex! What the—? How did you—?”
Harry’s voice caught in his throat when he saw the leering grin on his brother-in-law’s face. It wasn’t until Alex turned slightly and fumbled briefly to slide the security chain in place that Harry noticed he was wearing rubber gloves. That didn’t look at all right. A hot, dry lump formed in the center of Harry’s chest.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, trying to sound like he was in control. But he barely disguised the tight quivering in his voice.
“No, no, no, Harry,” Alex said, arching his eyebrows and staring at him. “The real question is: What the fuck are you doing here?” Alex’s smile widened like a leering fox as he took a few steps forward. Harry backed away to keep the same distance between them when Alex made a fist with one rubber-gloved hand and smacked it into the palm of the other, making a wet, slapping sound.
“Well I—you see—I’m—it’s—”
“No… no, you can save me the fucking excuses, all right?” Alex said, lowering his voice with menace. He waved one rubber-gloved hand as though scolding a wayward child. “I know exactly what you’re doing here: you’re meeting up with a woman. And I know it’s not your wife—” In an instant, Harry’s face flushed bright red. “Not the person who stole my kids away from me.” He paused with a look of smug satisfaction on his face as he let his words sink in; then he leaned forward and added with a teasing lilt to his voice, “Isn’t that right… honey-bear?”
Alex laughed at that, but not even for a second did he pull his steady, unblinking gaze away from Harry as he took another step closer.
“Why you lousy mother—”
“Hey, hey, don’t start getting all indignant with me, you miserable fuck! We can both cut out the bullshit, all right?”
He smacked his fist into his hand again. The sound was almost as sharp as a gunshot, and it made Harry flinch.
“I know all about the little afternoon love sessions you have here,” Alex said. When he focused on the ice bucket, still clutched uselessly in Harry’s hand, his smile went even wider. “What, were you just heading out for some ice… maybe so your slut girlfriend could do that little trick she does with the ice cubes in her mouth?”
“Jesus Christ! H-h-how’d y-y-you—how’d y-y-you k-k-know about t-t-that?” Harry said, his voice stammering on nearly every word. He was frantically trying to remember if he had seen evidence that anyone was staying in either of the rooms on either side of him. He hoped that, by raising his voice, he might draw attention.
As Alex stared at him, still grinning sardonically, he kept moving forward, making Harry back away until the backs of his knees bumped into the edge of the mattress. Another low roll of thunder came, sounding closer. The nervousness churning in Harry’s stomach was getting steadily worse. His legs didn’t feel like they could support him much longer, and he was afraid he was going to vomit.
“You see now, Harry, I know a lot of things about you that you didn’t think anyone else knew. Actually—” He punched his open hand again. “—there’s only one thing I don’t know, and that’s where the fuck your wife has taken my kids!”
He took another threatening step closer until his and Harry’s noses were almost touching. Harry winced, scowling as Alex’s hot, sour breath washed over him.
“And that’s why I’m here, Harry, to find that out. Before I leave, I’m gonna make damned sure you tell me where she is, because there’s one thing—” He held his rubber-gloved forefinger up so close to Harry’s face he was afraid he was going to poke his eye out. “—Only one thing that’s more important to me than anything else. I want my fucking kids back, Harry, and I intend to get them!” Taking one step back, he reached behind his back and pulled the knife from his back pocket. He brough
t the blade up close to Harry’s face and twisted it back and forth so it caught the dull reflection of light in the room.
“And I’m gonna find out… even if I have to fucking kill you, I’m gonna find out!”
“No… no, you—you have to believe me,” Harry stammered. “I have no idea—no idea at all where she is.”
He forced as much strength and conviction as he could into his voice, but he could tell by Alex’s expression that he wasn’t buying it. “Honest to Christ, I’d tell you if I knew. She—right after she took your kids, she cleaned out our bank account and ran out on me. I haven’t—”
“Cut the bullshit,” Alex said. “That was my money in that account! Your fucking wife stole it from me! And I’ve seen your fucking phone bill with all those calls from the east, so don’t think you can fuck with me!”
“What—? How’d you—”
Before Harry could continue, Alex, obviously enjoying having the superior hand, tipped his head back and started to laugh. The instant the eye contact was broken, Harry tensed and made his move. Gripping the ice bucket tightly with one hand, he dodged to one side, away from the hand holding the knife, and swung up and around in a whistling arc. With a dull, hollow thunk, the flat bottom of the bucket caught Alex a solid blow on the side of the face that sent him staggering back, his arms flapping crazily as he fought for balance. Harry didn’t consciously think about what to do next; his mind was nothing but a white blur as he dropped the bucket, clenched his fist, and swung wildly at Alex—
—and missed.
The momentum of his swing carried him around so his right leg banged against the mattress edge, making his knee buckle. When the lightning bolt thought struck him that he had to make a run for the door, he was already off balance. Nearly blind with panic, he rapidly tried to process what he would have to do: get to the door—throw the deadbolt—undo the security chain—twist the doorknob—open the door—and then run like a son of a bitch out into the parking lot, yelling for help.
Ghost Light Page 15