“News flash, jackass. You’re not so important that I would shoot up my house just to get you here because it might make you feel better.”
“Then, why Marcie? Huh? It’s pretty obvious you and Jessica have been plotting to get us together. Makes me wonder why. You’re more focused on my date than trying to find out who did this!” I said, my arms sweeping around at the destruction that still lingered.
He reached down and picked up the pile of pictures and printouts and stormed away. I heard the vacuum-sealed door open and then slide shut. I couldn’t tell if he was mad because I was on to his scheme, or because of the accusation. My instincts told me the former. I thought about it the entire time I was getting ready. I finally decided that this was their backhanded idea of setting me straight, which just pissed me off even more.
At 6:30 p.m. I walked into the living room and found a note and his truck keys on the kitchen counter. The note said:
‘Take my truck. It’s got gas and is more dependable than her car.’
Ronald
P.S. I put condoms in the glove box.
P.P.S. You wreck my truck and I’ll kill you myself. Tell you everything when you get back.
“Asshole,” I grumbled. I knew then that this was just a gigantic set-up.
The drive to Marcie’s went by way too fast and during that time, all I could think about was how stupid Ronald and my sister were. I was mad as hell but I decided that as screwed up as their thinking was, it was probably the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a while. Also, I was a better detective than I gave myself credit for. I had cracked the case and now I could enjoy my night out with Marcie.
Her house was located near Windsor Park. It was a fairly new development and the houses were stylish and modern. Fruita itself was an old town that had weathered economic atrocities created by oil companies who had pulled up stakes in the middle of the night in the early eighties. Good paying blue-collar jobs had just vanished overnight. The word ‘oil’ became synonymous with a four-lettered anachronism generally subscribed for genitalia slang.
But over the years the town had reinvigorated itself as a geriatric bedroom community for coasters who were looking to maximize their retirement plans. Now, thirty years later, oil had again reinvested itself all over the Grand Valley. Over the last few days I had seen trucks with Common Core Oil decals peppering the roads in and around Ronald’s place. The oil decals had struck a visceral chord inside of me. I had pointed out a few to Ronald and all he had done was nod his head.
As I neared the turn to her house, I was struck by how much the area had changed since I was a boy. The Windsor Park community had been scrub brush and only home to a few small-time farmers. Marcie’s house was a nice shade of indigo blue. It was a two-story ranch style home with a nice wraparound porch. I could see a privacy fence that marked the back yard. Her driveway and garage had been built off to the left side of the house, giving the front a clean and finished look. Her house sat on a lot that was just slightly bigger than a postage stamp. All in all, it had the look and feel of a quaint and homey single-family house.
I pulled into her driveway, parked the truck and walked around to the front door. There were lights on in what appeared to be the living room and kitchen. My new boots echoed slightly off of the porch. I reached up and rang the bell. A moment later, I heard footsteps and then saw the disjointed figure of someone through the stained glass window pane of the front door. Marcie opened the door and greeted me warmly with a kiss on the cheek, her hair still piled up on her head. She wore what looked like pajamas, her face slightly flushed as if I had interrupted a physical workout.
“Sorry, I’m running a little behind. The day nurse had to leave early so I’ve been taking care of my dad,” she said as she backed away from the door to let me in.
“No problem. It’s not the first time I’ve had to cool my heels while you got ready,” I said with a grin.
She blushed a little, the color in her cheeks reminding me of the girl I had dated in high school. “I’m sorry, I feel really bad about not being ready. A friend of mine should be here shortly. Until then, how about you make yourself at home and I’ll just be a minute. Then we can go.”
“Take your time. No rush,” I said gallantly.
“Be back in a few.” She kissed me on the cheek before she hurried up the staircase that faced the door, to do whatever women do before going out on a date.
After she had gone out of sight, I wandered around the living room and took note of the pictures she had hanging on the walls. Pictures hung in chronological fashion and were of her mother and father when we were kids, and of her sister now, all grown up and out on her own. Then there were the pictures of her graduating from the academy and then later, in her FPD uniform. Her badge was shiny and the ear-to-ear smile gave her face a youthful and optimistic look. I wondered if my face had had that same look when I’d graduated.
The furniture was modest and modern looking. The house itself was warm with earthy colors that adorned the walls. She had hardwood floors with an oversized Navajo rug in the living room. A faux fireplace was against the far wall, on the ledge was a picture of Marcie and a large fawn-colored boxer. It looked like it had been taken at some kind of 5k run or walk-a-thon. I looked but didn’t see a TV anywhere, which seemed natural considering the way she had decorated her home.
Next, I wandered into the dining room which was on the other side of the door and saw a stately table with nice hard-backed wooden chairs. Just off of the dining room was the kitchen. It also was modern in its design and feel. The refrigerator was the newer type you see at Grand Valley Home Repairs, with stainless steel double doors. In the middle of the kitchen was an island with a sink. The cabinets were finished oak and the countertops looked like they were made of marble. I was impressed and not at all surprised. When we had been younger, we had talked about houses and what ours would look like. At the same time, I was embarrassed. My apartment usually had the look and feel of a hobo camp. Nothing was modern or nice. It was almost never clean and over time I had given up on trying to do anything about it, mostly because I always told myself it was just temporary, until I got back on my feet.
I checked the time and was surprised to see thirty minutes had passed. The doorbell made that ding-donging sound and I heard Marcie call, “Get that please.”
I walked over to the front door and opened it up. Standing outside was a woman who could have been twelve or forty. She was slight to the point of being gaunt and her hair had that ‘lack of shampoo’ shine. She had no makeup and held a stack of books cradled to her chest. Her expression was shock and then recognition.
“Holly shit, Walter Walker, I thought you were dead.”
Non-plussed I said, “Not today, but tomorrow’s another story.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
“Gwyneth Addison. You went to school with my brother, Paul.”
Recognition dawned then. “You're Paul’s sister?”
She nodded her head. “Yep!”
“Man, I haven’t seen you guys in forever. What’s your brother doing?”
She nodded toward the stairs. “She didn’t tell you?”
Now it was my turn to nod and then shake my head.
“Paul’s the chief of police.”
“Chief of police? Where? Here in Fruita?”
“Yep, he got hired about ten years ago, has been dug in like a tick since then.”
“Huh, didn’t know that.”
I asked about some others I had gone to school with and she happily provided me with all of the juicy gossip about who was doing what and who was doing whom. We talked for another half hour or so before Marcie wandered downstairs. Her hair was now sculpted into place, as well as her makeup. She had traded her pajamas for a nice form-fitting sweater, a blouse that was roughly the same color as the indigo paint that adorned her aluminum siding, and a pair of snug jeans which I took a long moment to appreciat
e. I confess there was a stirring down yonder that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Hey Gina, thanks for coming over and I’m sorry for the short notice.”
“No problem, how’s he doing?”
“He finally went to sleep so you shouldn’t have to do much.”
“So, where are you guys heading tonight?”
“I don’t know, he hasn’t told me,” Marcie replied. Both girls turned and waited expectantly. Which is about the time I realized I hadn’t really made any plans. I did a mental head slap and then cursed Ronald for getting me into this.
“I, ah, well, I was thinking, you know, I’d let you decide where to go since you ah… know this area better than I do.”
“How about Tony’s?”
“Sounds great,” I said. Then wondered where and what kind of place Tony’s was.
Marcie laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s a great little bistro, downtown.”
“You’re the boss.”
Marcie reached past me and took her coat off a coat rack that was hidden behind the door. I hadn’t seen it earlier and now wondered what else I hadn’t seen.
“We shouldn’t be out too late. But if something comes up, let me know, okay?”
“No problem, and don’t do anything I want to do,” she said in a sing-song voice.
Marcie and Gina giggled and then she opened up the front door and walked outside. I trailed behind her, pulling the door shut.
We drove the short distance back to town. Tony’s Pizza & Beer was located downtown. I pulled into the back and parked the truck. I led the way around to the front of the restaurant and Marcie followed me. Her hand reached out, taking mine in hers. I felt myself blush and my face broke into a smile. It had been a long time since I had done this and I realized how much I had missed the warm company of a woman. In that moment I forgave Ronald and my sister for setting up such an elaborate ruse. It had been worth it, after all. Nothing could ruin this night.
Just as we were walking in, I noticed the sedan drive past us. I stopped and looked into the driver’s side window as it drove by. It was just a quick glance, but I saw the driver wasn’t some nefarious villain. He looked more like a school teacher or a professor. I made a note to tell Ronald and then let it go. He’d never believe it anyway and after all, it had probably been just a show for my benefit.
Marcie walked in ahead of me and immediately waved at the bartender and the waitress. It was indeed a hometown bistro. There was a bar against the far wall, with tables and chairs in the center and booths along both walls. It was quiet, with a nice ambiance. Old-time stained glass light fixtures hung from the ceiling and reminded me of fixtures you sometimes saw in nicer pool halls. I was glad she had chosen this place for dinner. We wouldn’t have to worry about loud music or noisy diners. It was the kind of place you came to relax and enjoy a nice meal or homebrewed pint. Tony’s was definitely not in the same league as The Shaft, and Jackie the German would have been less than thrilled with the décor but that was okay, as tonight was going to be special. A night I was sure I would never forget.
We found a table in the middle of the room and sat down. The waitress moved over to us and then leaned down and gave Marcie a hug. “Girl, it’s been too long since you’ve been out. And who is this fine piece of man meat?”
I felt myself blush again.
“Darla, this is Walter Walker. He’s Jessica’s brother.”
“Oh, so you’re the one I keep hearing about?”
“I guess that depends on what you’ve heard,” I said.
“Don’t you worry, it’s all been good. Jess has nothing but great things to say.”
I doubted that, but I let it go. It was a great night and I was determined not to drag my sorry past into the mix. Nope, tonight I was going to have a nice dinner with a great woman and everything else was just going to have to take a backseat. “Deep breath, forget about the past, just relax and let the night take care of itself. Ronald’s not here to screw this up. What could possibly happen?” I said to myself.
Just then, the driver of the sedan walked in. I took a moment to look him over. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties. His hair was gray at the temples and the glasses he wore looked to be straight out of a nerdy bookworm picture from the 1970s. He was slight of build and the tweed jacket and sweater vest completed the look of a college professor. He never looked at us, his gaze looking for an open table. He found one just behind us and closer to the bar. When he walked past us I got the impression he was from out of town; maybe working at the community college or maybe he was just on vacation. Either way, he was definitely not a hired killer which meant he was not a threat. This should have been my first clue.
Chapter 21
Darla brought us menus and took our drink orders. She had a cosmopolitan and I took a diet coke. We made small talk about the menu and what sounded good. I realized she was as nervous as I was but that seemed to go away after a few minutes. When Darla returned with our drinks, Marcie ordered a Reuben and I followed her lead and got one for myself.
Our conversation was pleasant. She told me all about her decision to join the force and then repeated the same gossip Gina had told me. I reacted as if it was the first time I had heard it. I nodded and spoke in all the right places. I couldn’t bring myself to really join in. The sound of her voice was quiet and soothing and I realized how much I missed hearing it. She seemed not to notice my lack of participation, for which I was glad. I was terrified that if I spoke I would break the spell between us, and I was determined to just let her talk for as long as she wanted. That’s the thing about being a failure, when you find yourself with someone who is enthralled by your presence you learn to hide in your silence. The fear of being found out motivates you into not speaking.
When we had finished dinner, Darla brought us cheesecake on the house and refilled our drinks. More time passed and I found myself concentrating on my bladder instead of her words. Finally, she seemed to notice my discomfort.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Sorry, but I think all that soda hit my bladder at the same time.”
She laughed. “Well, don’t just sit there – go to the bathroom, silly.”
“Ah, music to my ears. I’ll be back in just a second,” I said. I took the napkin that was in my lap, wiped my mouth off, and got up to go to the bathroom. I walked past the college professor who seemed to be engrossed in a book. It made me smile to think about how wrong Ronald had been.
***
Freeze had watched the house until he saw the ex-cop come out and leave in Ronald’s pickup. He had been looking at the house through a night scope and was contemplating shooting them both until he had seen the one known as Walker leave. He then picked up his rifle, hustled back to his car, and drove like a demon to catch up. He followed him into Fruita and then out to a house on the eastern side of town.
Freeze parked his car a block away and waited until he saw him emerge from the house with a woman. After that, he had tailed them back into town and to a place called Tony’s Pizza & Beer. Walker had spotted him as he drove past looking for a place to park, but hadn’t seemed interested in him. Freeze pulled around the back and parked next to Ronald’s truck. Then he had followed them into the bar. As he entered the bar, he had felt the ex-cop's eyes on him, but after a moment he seemed to lose interest and went back to paying attention to the girl. He had decided to kill him in the bathroom. All he needed was a table where he could watch safely until he had to pee – then he would walk in behind him to finish the job.
Freeze had brought a small .22 with a silencer, a stiletto knife, and a garrote. No matter what happened, he had all the tools he needed to kill. Luckily he found a table behind the couple. He was close enough to hear the conversation, but better still, he would see Walker approach the bathroom without the benefit of knowing he was being watched. Freeze carefully searched the room for cameras as he approached the table, seeing only one over the cash register. He listened to their convers
ation intently for any mention of the cop’s sister, but her name never came up. Patience was his best attribute and it served him well on this night. The woman had talked an endless stream of drivel for the better part of ninety minutes before Walker had made the proclamation that he needed to relieve himself. Freeze gave the cop a quick five count before he got up to follow him into the bathroom.
Ronald had been standing across the street for the better part of an hour when he saw Walter and Marcie approach the front doors of the restaurant. A minute later, he saw the sedan that carried Tommy Bones glide past him. Ronald had been hiding in a car he kept for these types of situations. Tommy never saw him. He watched for another hour and a half before he saw Walter get up and head for the restroom. Tommy stood up a moment later and followed him inside. Ronald hopped out of the car and ran across the street and around the back. He grabbed the back door and moved inside.
***
I couldn’t remember the last time I had to pee so badly. By the time I took the handful of steps to the bathroom, I was pretty sure I was going to wet myself. My hands were already working on my zipper when I reached the bathroom door. Moving quickly, I headed to the first urinal and pulled myself out just in time as the urine started to flow. Closing my eyes, I regaled myself with the sound of her voice. I heard the door open behind me and footsteps approaching me.
The starting of a sneeze snuck up on me. I brought my hand up to my face to quell it when suddenly I saw, and then felt, the cutting edge of a garrote sneak over my head and then cut into the flesh of my hand. I let go of myself with the other hand and grabbed wildly for the hand that was holding onto the garrote.
The man behind me brought his knee into my back and forced my head downwards and then onto the urinal, knocking me out cold…
***
Ronald burst through the door just in time to see Walt’s head slam into the urinal. His body went limp and the unexpected weight of his unconscious body threw Tommy’s balance off, which forced him to let go of the garrote and let Walt slide to the floor.
On The Devil's Side of Heaven Page 15