“They’re out there,” she managed to stutter through her relieved babble.
The large man stepped into the light. He was dressed in the khaki colors of a sheriff’s uniform, a thick belt that held a pistol and jingling handcuffs was strapped around his waist. He wore a campaign hat that turned with his head as he looked around. “Where?” he asked.
“Everywhere!”
He turned a slow circle, but didn’t raise his gun. He just seemed to be taking in the area like a curious tourist. “Hmm. I don’t see them.”
“They’re out there!”
He held up a hand. “I know they are.”
“You d-do?”
He didn’t speak, but she saw the campaign hat move up and down as he came closer. His back against the bright lights made him a dark man-shaped specter. He stood in front of her. She could smell the heavy fragrance of his aftershave drifting towards her.
He reached out. Put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yuh-yeah…I’ll be okay…”
“Did they harm you?”
“Not…too bad.” She sniffled, trying to get her sobs under control. It seemed to be working.
“Good,” he said. “I told them not to. The last one was all bruised up and ached all over. Made it kind of hard to enjoy myself when she was halfway broken already.”
His words killed her bawling.
The man, keeping his hand on her shoulder, turned slightly and shouted at the woods, “Your best one yet! I was worried about the kind of shape she’d be in!” He faced her again and she could see the white line of teeth through his smile.
“What is this?” she asked. “What…?”
His hand moved away from her shoulder and gripped her breast through the flimsy gown. “Oh yeah…these are perfect. I knew they would be…been waiting to grab these tits since I first saw your picture. Eighteen, right?”
Brooke started to cry. She felt his grip become fierce. Pain shot into her chest.
“I asked you a question,” he said.
“Yes! Eighteen!” The pressure on her breast subsided, but didn’t vanish entirely.
“Damn. Just ripe enough. I like it.” He took a deep breath. “Your sister’s quite a looker too, if I remember correctly. Not ripe yet, but when she is, she’ll be damn fine.” He laughed. “I told them not to mess with you. You were going to be mine. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep a straight face when I told your father our leads on finding you had run dry?” He laughed as if recalling an amusing memory. “You should have seen him. Seemed to knock the spirit right out of him. Ruined him big-time.”
The image of Dad being told that information tormented her. She could see him dropping onto the couch, burying his face into his palms as Mom patted his back. The news, though deceitful, must have killed him. She felt her throat constricting from the thought.
“I was going to plant evidence of your death, but do you know how hard it is to substitute a body for you? It’s your tits. So damn big for someone your age, and I haven’t been able to find anybody that even comes close.” He flicked her nipple through the gown with his thumb and moaned. “The picture of you at the beach last year in that bikini does not do these babies justice.” He squeezed her breast again, this time with less severity. “No justice at all.”
“Stop…”
He didn’t. He clucked his tongue. “Here’s how it’s going to work, Brooke. You’re going to go with me, now. And we’re going to have ourselves a lot of fun. I’ve been jerking off to your damn bikini picture for so long that I’m eager to get started. Don’t you dare give me any trouble when I cut you loose or I’ll bust your ass for it. Got me?”
She understood and told him so.
“Good,” he said. He removed a large knife from the sheath on his belt. It had the biggest blade Brooke had ever seen and curled at the end.
He did her feet first. It sliced through the bonds without any trouble. Then he stepped around to the side, freeing her hands. Her arms dropped by her sides. They tingled and stung as the blood flowed freely.
He stepped in front of her, nodding. “Good girl. We’re going to get along fine. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
She did as she was told, flinching when the cold steel of handcuffs slapped around her wrists. Then she was being led by the arm to the SUV. He opened the back door for her.
“Watch your head,” he warned.
Assisting her inside, he made sure she didn’t bonk her head. Once she was in the seat, he pulled the safety harness across her chest and clicked it in place. The strap ran between her breasts, pulling the gown taut against them and showing their plump size and smooth shape. She could feel him looking. “Damn, those are nice. Can’t wait, girl. Can’t wait.”
He started to shut the door, but stopped and pulled it open. “Oh, by the way, the name’s Conwell. Sheriff Piper Conwell. And we’re going to be the best of friends.”
The door slammed.
Heather
Randy carefully added more branches to the already blazing bonfire. The flames licked the dark sky as specks of red ash floated upward like fireflies. The smell of wood smoke was wonderful, slightly sweet as it seemed to seek Heather out. She could see the curly trail drifting her way, away from everyone else.
Cold air flowed around her waist like an icy embrace. She pulled the blanket draped around her shoulders closer. That helped. Her rump felt a little sore already from the log under her. They’d each selected one from the massive pile to sit on. Making a circle around some timber Randy had already prepared for them before they arrived, they plopped down.
Debbie tore open a bag of marshmallows while Shaun gripped a handful of sticks, the tips pared down into points.
“I’ve got hot dogs too, if anyone wants any,” said Chad, holding up a plastic brick. The firelight shimmered across its glossy surface.
“No thanks,” said Steph. “I’m still stuffed from dinner.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, lowering the pack. He revealed a pocket knife and folded out the blade.
“Hey, just because she said no, doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” said Ted.
“Good man,” said Chad.
“How can you eat anything else?” Steph asked him.
“I have hollow legs,” he told her.
“Ah. That explains everything.” Steph gazed at Debbie around the crackling flames. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
“Oh, it was nothing, really,” said Debbie, impaling a white, squishy knob on the tip of a stick. She passed it over to Shaun, who passed it down to Randy. It kept moving around the circle until it reached Heather. Then she offered it to Chad. He shook his head. “That was my mother’s old recipe,” she added.
“It was good,” said Steph.
“Thanks.”
“Me, I burn microwavable meals.” Steph shook her head. “I mean, it tells you right on the box how long to leave them in for and somehow I manage to scorch the damn things.”
“I burned cereal once,” said Ted.
Steph reached an arm around the nape of his neck. “You’re cute.”
Ted shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”
“But you’re also full of shit.”
“Damn. Is it coming out my ears again?” He stuck his finger in an ear and wagged it.
“I’m sure it is,” said Steph. “I’m willing to bet you’re a great cook.”
“Nah,” said Ted, poking out his bottom lip. He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Debbie. You’re his cousin, right?”
“Don’t remind me.”
Smiling, Steph said, “Is he or isn’t he a good cook?”
“It used to be his job, he’s awesome.”
Steph gave him a knowing smile. “Thought so.”
“Guess the se
cret’s out. Now I’ll have to do the cooking.”
“Damn right,” said Chad. “Ted’s got dinner duty tomorrow night.”
Steph’s humorous mood seemed to fade a little.
Ted pointed at her. “And there goes your plans.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Nope. Not at all.”
Ted laughed.
Heather wondered what that was about. They’re up to something. She didn’t know what it was, but those two were contemplating something. She could probably figure it out if she thought about it, but, really, she didn’t want to. She was too cozy by the fire, enjoying the soft pops of the burning wood as it was being lapped by the flames.
“All right,” said Randy. “I think the fire’s good for now.”
“Great,” said Chad. “Sit down and relax.” He shook his thumb over his shoulder. “Looks like you’ve done most the work already, so you can chill out for a little while.”
“Yeah,” said Ted. “What gives? Trying to put me out of a job?”
“No way,” said Randy. “There’s plenty of work left to do.”
Randy looked pleased with himself as he sat down, smiling bigger than Heather had ever seen him do before. It was nice. Usually he was uptight, never taking a moment to wind down. It was bad for his health, she always warned him, but it never kept him from overdoing it. The bags under his eyes were proof that he wasn’t getting enough sleep.
Probably staying up late, worrying too much about the center to sleep.
If she told him to relax some, he probably would. Randy usually caved when it came to Heather. Sometimes she wondered if he had feelings for her. She knew where hers resided when it came to Randy Bishop.
A big brother.
Legitimate love for him, but in a platonic kind of way.
Her eyes moved slightly to the left, where she saw Chad cramming a blackened weenie in his mouth. Now that was a man who had her heart, though she wasn’t willing to allow it to be taken yet.
She laughed, watching his jaws work as he smacked around the weenie that was too hot for his mouth. He looked like a horse chomping hay. His eyebrows rose when he noticed she was watching him.
“So are we going to tell some ghost stories?” asked Debbie.
“We should,” said Shaun. “We’ve already set the mood—cold night, a fire, plenty of dark.”
Steph shuddered. She looked around. “Hard telling what’s out there.”
“Shadows,” said Ted. He lowered a marshmallow into the fire. The heat painted brown over its fluffy, white texture.
“Maybe a Haunchy,” said Shaun. He’d said it as coolly as if he were suggesting owls.
“Oh knock it off,” said Debbie.
Heather looked at Randy, who only shrugged. He had a crooked smile on his face that suggested he was going to let them have their fun.
“I know one thing that’s not out there,” said Chad.
“Haunchies?” said Ted.
“Besides that.”
“What?” said Steph.
“No wildlife. Listen.”
Nobody spoke. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and hushed breaths that made little clouds in front of their mouths.
“Of course there isn’t,” said Ted, overly loud. Debbie gasped from the boom of his voice. “It is cold as hell out here. I saw a witch earlier stick her arm under her shirt. When she pulled it out she shot me a thumbs-up.”
Randy and Chad laughed.
“We’re the only ones stupid enough to be out here right now,” said Ted.
“We’ve got the fire,” said Debbie. “It’s not so bad.”
“Tell that to my back,” said Ted. “You’ll have to pour some salt on it first to melt the ice off.”
“I’ve got a story,” said Randy. “A true one.”
“About Doverton?” asked Steph.
“As a matter of fact…” His eyes rounded with mystery.
“I don’t know,” said Debbie. “We got enough of that at the diner.”
They’d told Randy and Chad about Al’s story and that Lawrence creep stopping them outside the diner. Turned out Randy had also met Lawrence, before they were graced with his introduction, when he and a writer lady had been snooping around the property.
Must have given Randy quite a fright.
Now Randy wants to scare us.
Heather smiled. Might be fun.
“You sure?” asked Randy.
Debbie’s nose wrinkled, baring her teeth.
“Put it to a vote,” said Chad.
Randy nodded. “All right. It’s a story packed with adventure, hope, suspense and a little bit of horror.” When he said that last part, he showed the distance between his forefinger and thumb. “So, who wants to hear it? Raise your hand.”
Everyone except for Debbie and Ted put their arms high.
“And there it is,” said Randy. “Looks like I’m telling the story then.” He let out an extravagant mad-scientist laugh as he rolled his hands together.
Heather looked at Chad and found him also looking at her. He shook his head, smiling. He seemed to be as thrilled as she was at seeing Randy having a good time.
“There was once this hapless bunch with good intentions in their hearts and their minds set on helping others. They searched high and low for the ideal place to sink a fortune into. Oh, any place will do, even one as supposedly haunted as the old Carlson farm. See? This ill-fated band had hearts bigger than their brains.”
Though Heather found Randy’s comical account of their tribulations amusing, she couldn’t help the uneasy squirm she felt working its way through her. She shifted on the log under her. It suddenly felt too hard, as if it were slowly ramming her hips up into her ribs.
“You said this story has mystery,” said Steph through a smile.
“Oh it does. The mystery is trying to decide if they’re in over their heads?”
Steph continued to smile. “Where’s the hope?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Ted. “Hopefully they won’t eat their shirts.”
Randy pointed at him. “Yes. Let’s hope not.”
“And the horror?”
“The hot-water heater went on the fritz!”
As if he’d pulled out his penis and started waving it in front of them, the crowd gasped. Including Heather.
The hot-water heater! What the hell!?!
Then she thought about it. That couldn’t be true. She’d just washed her hands after using the toilet, before coming out here. The hot water had been fine.
She peered at Randy and saw his horrified expression falter. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, a smile trying to press dimples into his cheeks.
“Asshole,” she said, and laughed.
An assault of marshmallows pegged Randy’s chest and face. He swatted at them, missing most, but managing to knock a few back at the throwers. “Come on! Easy! Hey! I was going to eat that!”
It was good hearing everyone laugh. After the day they’d had getting here, Heather wouldn’t have been surprised if in the morning everybody asked to go home. Now, she didn’t think that would happen.
“But I do have some bad news,” said Randy. “The dryer’s not working. I tried using it after dinner to dry some old sheets we could use for paint covers and it wouldn’t heat up.”
“Great,” said Debbie. “Not like we can hang our clothes outside, either. They’ll freeze.”
“Relax,” said Shaun. “It’s probably just the element. I’ll look at it tomorrow and see for sure.”
“Thanks, Shaun,” said Randy, standing up. “That’s what I get for taking one with a FREE sign from somebody’s front yard.” Randy stood up. “Well, on that note, I’m going to hit the bed. I know you all thought I was going to talk about Haunchymania. Being the serious boss for a moment, starting next wee
k it will not be an option. That word can’t be mentioned here. Over the next few days, we can work it out of our system. But after that, no more talk about it. Deal?”
Everyone agreed.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t stay up too late.”
Randy offered a quick wave and turned around. The pale shape of his back seemed to shrink in the darkness as he walked away. Wasn’t long before Heather could no longer see him at all.
Hope he doesn’t fall and hurt himself.
It was a fairly hazardous trek back to the house from where they’d set up the fire at the threshold of the field. Maybe someone should have gone with him.
She could see the windows of the house, glowing squares on a dark canvas. The frosty grass sparkled under the moonlight. A couple minutes later, another block of light appeared underneath two smaller ones.
Randy found the door.
She could see his silhouette between the doorframes. The Randy shape stepped inside, the bright entryway shrinking as the door closed. Then it was gone.
“I think we’re going to head to bed also,” said Debbie, standing.
Shaun followed her lead. Everybody told them good night, then there were two more heading back to the house.
Heather was surprised when Ted announced he would be doing the same.
But she wasn’t surprised when Steph said she was going too.
With the others gone, that left just Heather and Chad. It was going to happen sooner or later. A nervous cloud fizzed in her stomach. She’d hoped for a little more time to prepare herself for their first moment alone.
“And then there were two,” said Chad, smiling.
Heather, body trembling, felt a smile of her own.
“Got room in that blanket for me?” he asked.
Her knees knocked. What’s wrong with me? She hadn’t been this nervous around Chad since the first time she invited him into her bedroom. That night, she’d shivered so hard her muscles were sore the next day.
Seems like the first time all over again.
It had been almost a month since she’d seen or spoken to Chad. And it had been her decision. He’d attempted contact with her a couple times, but finally he’d stopped. She’d figured he’d grown tired of being snubbed.
The Lurking Season Page 9