by DG Wood
Darkly thought about knocking on Gus’s door. But, she was back in that mode of thinking that she didn’t need him, and she didn’t want to make him think she needed him. She was just going out for a stroll.
Darkly made her way down to the deserted lobby and out the door into a cool, breezy night. She decided to walk in the direction of the music, which was easily identifiable now as a church organ accompanied by an out of tune but pious chorus.
The night sky was cloudy. Darkly used the church windows as a beacon as she made her way down the main street of closed shops and abandoned buildings. Despite the lack of light, Darkly could make out chained doors and broken windowpanes. She knew the economy was bad, but she wondered how anyone could afford to live in this town. There had to be some sort of barter system in place.
Darkly finally found what she was looking for: Barry’s Cash and Carry. There was a lone light on in the shop. She walked up to the door and tried the handle. Of course it was locked. From the sound of the choir, Barry was probably in church with the rest of the town. Praying for a new life in a better location?
Darkly noticed the sign in the window informing her of the hours of operation. Ten in the morning until noon, and then, two until four p.m., Monday through Saturday. Except Wednesday, when Barry closed for the day at noon. Printed below the hours, the sign read, “Trespassers will be punished.”
Darkly’s stomach was rumbling at this point, and she fantasized whether one more broken window would make a difference in this place.
Just to torture herself, Darkly leaned her forehead against the glass and searched for her salt and vinegar chips. The cashier’s counter had an old analog register and a jar of pickled eggs next to it. Behind the register, there was a rack of cigarettes, about a dozen in total.
“Must not be many smokers. At least, they’re healthy rednecks,” Darkly mused.
The magazine rack next to the counter was completely empty. In place of the magazines, there were little notecards and sheets of paper taped to the rack. They advertised things like chainsaw for sale, piano lessons, and other innocuous rural listings.
One note did seem strange to Darkly. “WAX JOB. NO HAIR FOR TWO CYCLES. TALK TO BETH.” Waxing?
The rest of the store looked like a Soviet food bank: a box of crackers here, a can of soup there, two apples in a basket, and some jars of preserves and pickled vegetables with homemade labels. Darkly gave up. She was going hungry tonight. Unless, she thought, the church is throwing a potluck. She’d more than pay for her supper with tales of life in the big city.
She crossed the street and climbed stone steps to the double oak doors of the church entrance. This time, she found a door that was unlocked, and she slipped inside. The foyer contained a couple benches and community bulletin boards with notices of upcoming church events.
The wall that separated the foyer from the sanctuary was made up of wood panels from the floor to waste height. Above that, the wall gave way to panels of stained glass. Darkly could make out the silhouettes of parishioners through the glass.
The stained glass panels displayed what Darkly assumed was a biblical story. In the first panel, a man in flowing robes of purple wearing a golden crown stood before a city with an army behind him. Rays of sunlight shone down on the city, but storm clouds darkened the sky above the king.
In the second panel, the king walked among the dead of the city. His soldiers stood over crying women and children, impaling them with their swords. This gave way to the third panel, in which the king bowed before an angel with his hands clasped together in a pleading prayer. The angel held the king’s crown in his hand and pointed at a forest behind the king.
Darkly studied the final panel. The great king now scrounged on the ground for acorns. His hair was matted; his teeth were like fangs. His nails had grown sharp as claws, and hair covered his body instead of clothes.
“Clearly a very bad man,” Darkly whispered to herself.
The singing of a hymn stopped, and Darkly heard the congregation sit in unison. A door in between panel two and three led to the sanctuary. Darkly stepped close to it and positioned her eye over the crack in the door. She could make out a few heads in her line of vision and had a good view of the altar where the preacher stood. He wore the traditional black, with a white collar that had turned the same shade of yellow as the stained mane of white hair that covered his head. His frame was bent, but his eyes were not tired. They were alert and searched the faces of his parishioners for anticipation of what he was about to say.
He took an audible breath in and spoke. His voice was raspy, but carried the weight of years of authority.
“There are those among us who struggle with faith. In fact, I myself have wrestled with that demon who goes by the name of Doubt. Yes, it is true. That might comfort some of you and worry others.”
The preacher smiled and took a sip of water.
“Worry, regret, fear, all of these are temporary lapses in our faith in God’s plan. Upon your journeys home tonight, I ask you to reflect on why it is we gather here on Wednesday nights to raise our voices in song. It is not some Oriental chant to empty our minds. It is an act of praise and a reminder to us all that even the basest among us are worthy of forgiveness. Never forget the dread king. He was punished by God for his pride and for his sins committed against the Lord’s chosen people. But, in seven years, he was forgiven and restored to his former status.”
The preacher paused and stared into the eyes of one of the parishioners whose head Darkly could only see from behind.
The preacher repeated his last words, “To his former status, my friends. Think of the opportunity that presents itself to our community. Such a gift from God. If only we may prove ourselves worthy of it.”
With these words, Buck stood and left his pew. He was headed in Darkly’s direction.
“Humility in the face of God,” the preacher called after Buck. “We must show him our worth in our actions.”
Buck put his sheriff’s hat on inside the church.
This was no potluck. Darkly turned to make a hasty exit and ran right into the largest barrel chest she had ever encountered. She looked up at the face of a man with small, squinting eyes. His hair was long and oily, and his beard much the same. He was dressed in a lumberjack’s shirt, overalls, and dirty boots. He held a wooden box in his hand. The box lid dangled from a rusty hinge.
“Here to steal from us all? Here to take from those who have nothing?”
The giant man leaned into Darkly, as the door to the sanctuary swung open behind her. Buck almost ran into them both.
“What the hell? Ed, what’s going on here?”
Ed held the empty box up for Buck to see.
“She stole the tithes, Sheriff. Outsiders are no good. Should have done something the moment they got here.”
“Ed, put the damn box back where it belongs. There hasn’t been so much as a nickel dropped in that thing for the past nine months.”
Ed just stood there, scowling at Darkly.
“Ed, put it back.”
Ed begrudgingly placed the tithe box back where it belonged and slammed the lid shut, breaking the rusty hinge in the process.
Buck shook his head. “Don’t you think you should be keeping an eye on your sheep, Ed? You lose the most at night when no one’s watching, don’t you? If you like, I’ll send my boy over so that you and your daughter can both get some sleep at the same time.”
Ed turned his attention to Buck, and the two locked each other in their sights for a few interminable seconds.
“Your ear’s healed nicely, Ed.”
Ed nodded his head and instinctually reached up to touch his perfectly-formed ear.
“I’ve said my peace. Anything more would be inappropriate in a house of God. Tell your boy to bring Milly. There’s work for a dog now, too.”
Ed turned and left.
/> Darkly started breathing again.
“I was hungry. I thought it might be a church social, you know?”
“Moonshine and square dancing was last week.”
Buck wasn’t a natural at humor, but there was something about Darkly that inspired him to make an effort.
CHAPTER TEN
It had been a surprisingly good meal. A free-range omelet with honey-cured ham and fresh berries from the surrounding woods. Even Buck’s wine was good. It was no Napa Valley vintage, but Darkly did not find it difficult to polish off half a bottle.
Buck had changed out of his uniform into a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He appeared as care-free as she suspected he was capable. With the full head of hair that fell down over his ears, he reminded her of a California surfer boy. He also had the longest eyelashes Darkly had ever seen on a man.
“You seem to like my wine,” Buck said, as he topped up Darkly’s glass.
“It’s the finest cherry wine I’ve ever had.”
She giggled. She was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“Elderberry,” Buck corrected her.
“Well, in fact, it’s the only elderberry wine to have ever passed beyond these lips.”
She pointed haphazardly at her lips.
“We don’t get a lot of supplies from the outside world. We’re off the beaten path up here. We grow and make most of what we need.”
“Sounds idyllic.”
“It can be. Like any lifestyle, it has its appeal and its limitations.”
Buck cleared the empty plates off the kitchen table and filled the sink with water. His house was a log cabin on the edge of town. It was comfortable and clean. The fixtures were a few models previous, but were all in working order. There was no TV, but there was a stereo and a guitar propped up in one corner of the living room. A couple of bedrooms and a full bath completed the house.
Darkly joined Buck at the sink.
“I’m a good drier.”
Buck tossed her a towel. Darkly dashed back to the table and grabbed the glasses of wine.
“My grandmother always told me that when you open a bottle of wine, you finish it.”
“Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman.”
Buck poured most of his glass into Darkly’s.
“But, as for me, I’m always on duty.”
Buck passed Darkly a plate, and she wiped it dry.
“Tell me, Buck, how does—I mean, your name doesn’t really suit you.” Darkly put her hand on Buck’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything.”
Buck shrugged it off. “No offense taken. It was better than the alternative. My parents named me Buckwald.”
“You could have changed your name altogether.”
Darkly removed her hand after leaving it on his arm a tad longer than was wise between strangers.
Buck moved a little closer to Darkly.
“I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from, but here, changing your name is like disowning your family.”
“I see.”
This close, Darkly could smell Buck. He smelled clean. She hoped she smelled the same to him. Buck continued to wash, and Darkly dried. Neither spoke. It was quiet. It was nice. At one point, Buck reached his hand up to scratch his neck. She watched the water left behind trickle down his skin. It made Darkly begin to perspire.
Right then, there was a sudden banging on Buck’s front door. Did Darkly hear Buck right? Did Buck just growl? Buck stepped back and dried his hands.
“Excuse me.”
Darkly smiled consolingly. “Always on duty.” She finished off her wine.
Buck opened the door, and Geraldine came bursting in like water through a broken levy.
“There’s been—” She saw Darkly and stopped.
Darkly recognized the split-second look of pure venom in Geraldine’s eyes. Geraldine quickly recovered and ran to Darkly with open arms.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. There’s been a terrible accident. One of your friends is dead, darling.”
Doc Ross stood over Christopher’s mutilated body next to the dumpster in the alley behind the hotel. He snapped a couple photos with an old Kodak camera.
The actor’s clothes had been torn off and chunks of flesh ripped clean from his ribs. Doc covered the body with a sheet and turned to Buck.
“I’ll get these developed. There’s nothing else I can do.” He glanced at Geraldine. “This thing is no longer just a nuisance.”
Doc walked off down the alleyway to where Carter, Gus, Marvin, Jake, and the cast stood waiting.
“I’ll need to arrange transport to his next of kin,” he explained. The inquest will be speedy. Not much nuance to a bear mauling. I’m truly sorry for your loss. Come see me in the morning, if you need anything.”
Doc shook his head and left.
Buck knelt down by Christopher’s body and studied the ground for a moment, concentrating.
Darkly broke the silence. “I heard him snoring, sound asleep when I left the hotel.”
“You were lucky, darling,” Geraldine responded. “This could have been you. He must have come out the back exit of the hotel and surprised the bear. The bear only did what comes naturally. Isn’t that right, Buck?”
Darkly could have sworn on a Bible that Geraldine was coaching Buck.
“Geraldine, I’m gonna need your walk-in freezer to store the body until we can figure out what the next of kin want to do. I’m going to need Trey’s help in moving it.”
“Are you going to track it down and kill it?”
Darkly asked the question to see what Geraldine’s reaction would be. She hadn’t worked out yet the reason behind her own curiosity.
Buck stood up into the full authority of his position.
“As Geraldine said, it was only doing what comes naturally.”
“That’s right. It had nothing against Sam. He was competition for the meal in that dumpster.”
“His name was Christopher, Gerri,” Buck said, correcting Geraldine.
“Sorry. Christopher. Yes. Poor man.”
“But doesn’t it have a taste for human flesh now? It will come back,” Serena said with the conviction of a bear expert.
She was constantly looking around her, anticipating the famished beast’s return.
“If it does, we’ll deal with it then.” Buck found Carter with his gaze. “I expect you’ll be wanting to pack up and leave. Find a safer location.”
“No,” Geraldine interjected, “Their friend wouldn’t want that, Buck. Christopher wouldn’t want that. The show must go on, isn’t that what they say?”
“Lewis keeps a bottle of single malt under the front desk. I’m sure you all could use a drink.”
This was Buck’s way of dismissing the cast and crew.
Carter was in shock. Every step forward in his life had been followed by a few steps back. This time, he’d been knocked off his feet. But, he figured he had to say something helpful.
“The sheriff says we should all go inside. The bear could still be around. Let’s get some sleep.”
Darkly walked past the open mouths. They all turned and followed her into the hotel.
Geraldine lowered her voice. “We begin early. Before they finish the movie. That’s all this means. No one would ever see it anyway.”
Buck walked up to the hotel’s back exit and examined the door. He took out a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the handle. He looked down at the blood that now dyed the white square red. Surprisingly, Buck continued to wipe the handle spotlessly clean.
“Looks like she toyed with him.”
Buck folded the handkerchief neatly and put it in his pocket.
“This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Get your walk-in ready, Geraldine.
”
“If you come for her, you’ll have to answer to your son.”
“They haven’t mated yet.”
“Are you sure about that, Buck?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Victoria topped up Darkly’s coffee cup and took her order of scrambled eggs and coffee. As she took her first sip, there it was. The coffee’s bitter flavor was overtaken by the taste of death. Darkly looked into Victoria’s eyes. The girl was a million miles away. Then, strangely, the coffee’s natural flavor recovered, and death seemed to Darkly to be banished from Victoria once again.
Across the table, Carter appeared at the end of his rope. The director had confined his responses to a tilt of the head up until this point. He was also a little worse for wear after consuming half a bottle of whisky the sheriff had so kindly pointed him in the direction of.
“Well, I’m going to say it.” It was Shane who broke the silence. “I know we aren’t supposed to speak negatively about the dead, but Christopher rubbed me the wrong way right from the start.”
“Oh, Shane.”
Serena was growing more nauseous by the minute. She opened her container of silver supplements and popped the cure-all into her mouth.
Peter then asked the question they all were thinking. “Can’t we just continue filming without him? I mean, most of the shots are from his POV, aren’t they? He’s really just a shadow in the woods. We don’t even see his face until the final stand-off.”
“And when it comes time to see his face?” Shane asked.
Marvin was already thinking about a casting session among the locals.
Outside, Trey was standing with Millie, beckoning to Victoria to join him. Victoria ran out the door into Trey’s arms. He stroked her hair and kissed her.
“We cast a local. We make an event out of the auditions. They get to go to the premiere, and Carter talks about a local talent discovery with the press. Maybe we even do a screening in the town. You know, we spruce up the local movie theater. We buy them a new popcorn machine or something.” Marvin’s words captured Carter’s attention.