The Caretaker's Wife

by Vincent Zandri

  “You betcha, boss,” I said.

  He pulled Sheriff Woods’s empty mug off the bar, filled it with beer from the tap.

  “Kingsley also gets along swimmingly with Cora,” Sonny went on. “Glad somebody does.” He slapped my back again. “That’s a joke. Get it?”

  Nobody laughed.

  “Well then,” Torchi went on, “I’ll be headed back into the kitchen to finish dinner. Expecting some patrons later on. Money don’t grow on trees, and I gotta make it while I can.”

  He left the bar back for the swinging kitchen door. But just before he got to it, he turned back around.

  “Oh, Sheriff,” he said. “While I got you here, I was wondering…you hearing any scuttlebutt from the residents about selling out to a developer?”

  I felt a little start in my heart. I was sure the sheriff did too.

  “Why do you ask, Sonny?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m just wondering who’s doing the buying and if people are willing to sell. Be a shame for the fine folks of this sleepy little town to let an opportunity to make some real money go to waste. Imagine Loon Lake becoming a real tourist destination like Lake Placid or Lake George? Now, that would really be something, wouldn’t it, Sheriff? It would mean a major raise for you. Maybe a new station and, hell, a nice new house.”

  “I suppose it would, Sonny,” he said.

  “Be seeing you around, Sheriff,” Sonny said.

  “Be seeing you too,” Woods said. “Thanks for the beers.”

  Sonny disappeared behind the door. The sheriff looked me in the eye.

  “Think about my offer,” he said. “One-hundred K. The law need not apply.”

  “I will,” I said. “Maybe we should just start at the top and get rid of the boss.”

  “You mean like cut off the head of the snake?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So long as the snake doesn’t grow three or four more heads and starts biting the hell out of this town out of revenge. The snake is long, and its tail resides in Queens, New York.”

  As he turned to leave, I already knew I was going to help the sheriff rid Loon Lake of Sonny Torchi, snake that he was. Not because I wanted to help Loon Lake or even grab myself an easy one-hundred-thousand dollars. But only because I wanted Cora all to myself.

  I found a pack of smokes behind the bar near the sink. Since no one occupied the tavern other than me, my guess is they belonged to Sonny. The vape device he occasionally sucked on was his way of trying to kick the habit. I decided to head out onto the front porch and light up. I never smoked much in the joint since it was strictly forbidden. But every now and again a CO—one of the good ones—who took a liking to you might pull you aside, allow you to join them outside in the corrections officers’ smoking area. It was a little glass-enclosed place they referred to as The Lounge. They’d ask you your life story, and if you were like me and didn’t outwardly appear like the violent criminal type—a swastika tattoo didn’t cover my face, for instance—they would inevitably ask, “How the hell did a dude like you end up in a joint like this?” And you know what I’d tell them? “Why don’t you ask my wife?”

  Usually, they’d nod sadly, and without saying another word, they knew precisely where I was coming from. Because maybe screws could head home at night after a long day locked up inside the iron house. But that didn’t mean they weren’t any less a prisoner than I was. As soon as they walked through the door at night and closed it behind them, they, too, were subject to a different kind of incarceration. “How the hell did a dude like you end up in a place like this?” they’d ask themselves while looking in the mirror.

  The smoke I was inhaling now…the bitter taste of burning tobacco, the nicotine rush inside my blood, the cotton mouth…it brought me back to Sing Sing, and the sad faces of all those screws. My heart went out to them almost as much as it did the pathetic lifers who would never see the light of a free day again. They were alive in the physical sense, but for all intents and purposes, they were so very dead. Dead men walking. Zombies, all of them.

  The truck pulled up and parked beside my Jeep. It was Cora. She got out, looking beautiful in her tight jeans, cowboy boots, and work shirt unbuttoned enough that I could see her hard breasts under that black pushup bra. My sex got immediately hard, and I knew I had to take her again before I headed back in the tavern. When she grabbed a couple sacks of groceries, I stepped down off the porch, dropped the cigarette to the gravel and stamped it out. Then I went to her.

  “Here,” I said, “let me help.”

  When I took the bags from her, my hands brushed against hers. It made my stomach tight and my throat close in on itself. My body was shaking. What the hell was happening to me? Were my feelings for Cora because I hadn’t had a woman in so much time that it hurt? Was it because Leslie left me and took our daughter with her?

  Then there was the sheriff. His offer of helping me destroy Torchi and his plan to take over Loon Lake and do it by force if necessary. Maybe I was still in prison, and this whole thing was an elaborate dream. Maybe I’d finally lost it, and right now, I was strapped to a bed inside a psych ward. But then, what the hell difference did it make? This was my reality whether I liked it or not.

  “I want you now,” I said to her face. “I want you again.” She focused not on me but on the tavern door. Like any minute her husband might walk out of it. I couldn’t blame her one bit. But I didn’t give a fuck about her husband. I only knew what I wanted right now. I grabbed her by the arm, yanked her to me, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She punched my chest, clawed herself off of me.

  “Are you crazy?”

  I smiled. “Yeah,” I said. “Out of my mind.”

  I felt a small trickle of blood oozing from my sternum, down over my belly. Cora had cut me with her fingernails. The pain felt good. It made me happy. It made me want her all the more.

  “If my husband sees you, he’ll kill you,” she said. “Don’t you get it?”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Cora. He already has.”

  “You don’t know that, Kingsley.”

  “He heard us fucking inside the cabin, and you know it. I thought you wanted him dead.”

  “I do,” she said. “But not like this.”

  I recalled my plan.

  “Tomorrow,” I said. “Tomorrow while I’m clearing the trails with him…there’ll be an accident.”

  She looked at me with a stone face. It was unlike any expression I’d seen her use before.

  “It’s all happening so quick,” she said. “I don’t even know you.”

  “A person knows when they love someone. They know right away. Do you love me, Cora?”

  She looked at me while I held the plastic grocery bags in both my hands.

  “Yes,” she said. “I love you, Kingsley.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I trust you.”

  “Tomorrow,” I said. “Tomorrow, I take care of our little problem. I’ll also be one-hundred-thousand dollars richer.”

  Her brown eyes suddenly widened.

  “How—”

  “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer right now. Do you hear what I’m saying, Cora?”

  Then came the roar of motorcycles approaching over the long gravel drive. Without seeing who was driving them, I knew who they were. Big Billy and his crew of goons. Setting the bags to the ground, I pulled Cora into me, kissed her so hard I thought her lip might start bleeding again.

  “Come see me tonight,” I said. “It might be the last time we can be together for a long time if my plan for tomorrow works.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if I kill your husband, we can’t chance being seen together for a while. You will have to go into a serious period of mourning. You’ll really have to pour it on.”

  The motorcycles were getting louder. When the bikers pulled into the parking lot, I knew my gut instincts were right on. Big Billy looked ri
ght at me.

  “I’d better get back inside,” I said. “Those meatheads are going to be thirsty.”

  Releasing Cora from my hold, I picked the bags back up and started for the tavern porch.

  “I’ll bring these to the kitchen. See you tonight, baby.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said.

  As I was making the steps up onto the porch, I heard Big Billy bark, “Well hello beautiful Cora, baby.”

  I knew then, in my heart of hearts, that I would find a way for the big biker bastard to suffer a terrible accident, too.

  14

  I went straight to the kitchen, where Sonny was stirring something in a pot. It smelled like spaghetti sauce. Setting the bags on the butcher block counter, I turned to leave. But he called out to me.

  “What is it, boss?” I said, stealing a closer look at the piping hot, bubbling sauce.

  “Tell me what you think, Kingsley,” he said, holding a ladle in one hand and cupping his other hand under it to catch whatever spillage might occur.

  The truth? I wanted nothing more than the grab hold of his neck and stick his head into the boiling cauldron of red sauce. I’d hold him down until his lungs filled and he drowned in the shit. But that was no way to kill a man like Torchi. It would be way too obvious, and not even a vengeful lawman like Woods would be able to save my sorry ass from an arrest at that point.

  Dutifully, I stepped up to the spoon and tasted the hot sauce. Here’s the thing. It might have been really hot, but I’ll be damned if that wasn’t some of the best spaghetti sauce I ever tasted. Or maybe by then, I was so used to prison food that dog shit would have tasted good. He seemed pleased that I loved his recipe. Every meal I’d had at Loon Lake Inn thus far was off the charts good. Hell, maybe Sonny was poisoning me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smiled.

  “That’s good shit, boss,” I said.

  He slapped me on the back again. It made me want to kill him even more.

  “Love it when you call me, boss,” he said. “I don’t even get that kind of respect from my employees.” Then, realizing what he just said. “Not that I have any employees. But if I did…” He allowed the gaff to trail off like a bad fart.

  “Got some dudes in the bar,” I said, knowing they were the very employees he was letting on about. “Thirsty dudes by the looks of them.”

  He went back to stirring his sauce.

  “Let me know if they give you any trouble, Kingsley,” he said.

  “I can handle myself,” I said.

  His grin reminded me of a clown. A bad clown.

  “Bet you can,” he said. “That’s why I like you.”

  I escaped the kitchen.

  Big Billy locked eyes on me as soon as I made it through the door. I was ready for him to jump me, but it never happened. Instead, all three of them pretended they’d never seen me before. They acted like I was never present inside Bunny’s bar, never gave her the cash to pay her monthly blood money, never dropped Billy in the parking lot. They mumbled shit among themselves and then ordered a round of draft beers and whiskey chasers. I didn’t bother to ask them to pay.

  They drank in silence while I stood with my back pressed against the bar.

  Billy drank his shot and followed up with a drink of his beer that emptied half the glass. The others did the same. I got the feeling if Billy decided to sip his drinks, they would have done that also. Their every move depended on his. When he drank down the rest of the beer, he slid off his stool. The other two slid off their stools and made for the door. They didn’t leave but instead, stood guard over the exit.

  Billy pointed at me, then made a curling gesture with his index finger that told me he wanted me to come closer. Why give the big guy a problem when I had already embarrassed him in front of his crew?

  “Another drink, Bill?” I said.

  He leaned in to me, his lips so close to my ear I could feel his hot halitosis.

  “Remember what I said about you leaving town, son,” he said. “You got lucky with me once. Trust me when I tell you it won’t happen again. Do we have an understanding?”

  “By all means,” I said, pursing my lips.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, I have to get back to work.” He turned and made his way into the kitchen.

  No trout fishermen showed up that night, so Sonny decided to let me close up early.

  “Some friends in for dinner,” he said. “Just the guys.” Naturally, I knew who his friends were…his employees.

  I also knew what they’d be discussing over his spaghetti and meatball dinner. They’d be talking about Loon Lake, their plan to take it over for the real bosses down in Queens. They would also be discussing me. Would Big Billy admit to my putting him down outside Bunny’s Place? Maybe. Would Sonny tell them he suspected me of fucking his wife? Maybe. Was I walking into a hornet’s nest over my lust and love for a woman I barely even knew? Most definitely.

  I managed to steal a drink of Jameson from out of the bottle without Sonny seeing me before I came around the bar and started for the door. Going with my gut, I sensed he wouldn’t bother with counting the till, so I also quietly opened the drawer, slipped out a twenty and stuffed it into my pocket. He was seated at one of the big round tables in the dining room near the stone fireplace, along with the three black leather-clad bikers. Only Big Billy was eyeballing me when I shot them a quick glance. Slowly, he ran his index finger across his neck. He then stuck his tongue out and flicked it at me like a snake.

  I might have succeeded at proving how tough I was, but for some reason, that little throat cutting gesture chilled me to the bone. I left the tavern without saying goodnight to my new boss.

  Crossing over the narrow trail in the dark, I made a mental note of buying a flashlight. Or maybe there would already be one inside my cabin. I needed something more to drink than just that shot of Jameson I’d stolen. There was more beer in the refrigerator. I would rather have whiskey, but beer would have to do for now.

  Stepping up onto the small porch, I opened the cabin door and saw that a candle was burning. When I looked at the bed over my shoulder, I saw that Cora was already waiting for me. I felt my pulse elevate and my breathing grow shallow. She was sitting up in bed, her breasts bare as the day she was born and pointing at me. She was sipping red wine from a long-stemmed glass.

  “I thought you’d never make it home,” she said, her eyes radiant in the glow of the candlelight.

  “Home,” I said. “What’s that?”

  She sipped her wine.

  “Don’t you have a home, Kingsley?” she asked. “Everybody’s got to have a home.”

  She’d already set out a glass for me on the table beside the uncorked bottle of red. I picked the bottle up, poured myself a glass. I couldn’t remember the last time I shared a good wine with a pretty woman…a gorgeous woman. Leslie didn’t drink. Not even the occasional glass of wine. But now, I was enjoying a fine wine with an even finer woman. A woman who was both beautiful and naked.

  “I might remind you that your husband is currently only about one-hundred yards away having dinner with his employees.”

  “First of all,” she said, “they will be there for hours, especially once they dig into the tavern’s booze.”

  “Second of all?” I asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

  “Second of all,” she said, “how did you know those men work for my husband?”

  “I ran into them in town earlier. Big Billy shook down the owner of Bunny’s bar. I know what Sonny’s up to. Or should I say, I know what his mob bosses are up to down in Queens. They want to take over Loon Lake, turn it into a tourist destination. They want to force the residents out and fill it with drug hungry tourists. They’ll get violent if they have to, and the sheriff says he’s powerless over it all. He said that Sonny burned a family who wouldn’t cooperate and that the state police are on the take.”

  She just looked at me like I was reciting some dangerous
shit. I was.

  “Looks like you’re finally getting some of your questions answered, Kingsley,” she said.

  “How did you ever get mixed up with a guy like Sonny, Cora?” I begged.

  Of course, I already knew how she’d originally gotten involved with him. But I wanted her version of the story. She sipped some wine for courage, then exhaled.

  “I got into some trouble,” she said, looking not at me but down into her wine where the memory must have been replaying itself. “Would you believe I used to be a New York City cop?”

  Of course, I knew it, but I didn’t want to let on that I knew it.

  She said, “I got into it with some new recruits. We did a little good-natured partying but eventually took a wrong turn on a bad stretch of road, so to speak.”

  “You’re losing me,” I lied.

  She lifted her head, brushed her thick hair back with her free hand, and looked me in the eyes.

  “We all started having sex together, Kingsley. You know…S. E. X.”

  “Sex,” I said, like a question.

  “We’d drop some Molly, get all liquored up, and pretty much go to bed.” She drank a little more wine. “I know it sounds seedy, but we were all adults, and it was all consensual, and even well-intentioned if you can believe it.” There was hesitation in her voice.

  “I’m sensing a but here,” I said.

  “Something happened that I didn’t count on.”

  I stole my first sip of the wine. It was good. More than pretty good. Dry, crisp, filled with flavor. Not like the cheap wine and ripple some of the dirt poor inmates used to dream about in their sleep.

  “One of the participating cops secretly videoed one of our sessions. He presented it to the IG, and just like that, I was busted. He even got me on film dropping the Molly.”

  She made the same throat cutting gesture that Big Billy had made earlier. “Just like that, career over. And I mean, career…fucking…over.”

  “They take away your pension?” Again, I already knew the answer to the question, but it felt natural asking it anyway.