Dog Tags

by Heidi Glick

  He turned toward Beth. “Wait here.” He went to the back of the van and removed the contents of the box then returned to the driver’s seat. “These are for you.” He handed Beth a bouquet of colorful flowers. “I felt bad the police confiscated your other flowers as evidence.” Not to mention he really wanted to buy her some.

  Beth leaned over the flowers and sniffed the bouquet. “These are lovely. And much better because they didn’t come from the Knight.”

  Mark got out of the van, met Beth by her door, and opened it for her. He scanned the nearly empty parking lot illuminated only by the remaining pink and purple glow of the setting sun and a blinking overhead street light that needed changing.

  Beth looked into his eyes. “Are you OK?”

  “Am I OK? Almost.” Mark reached over and cupped her chin then drew her head forward. Beth closed her eyes, and Mark leaned in closer, taking in her floral scent, and kissed her. A cherry taste lingered in his mouth.

  “I—” Beth cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Oh?” Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. “Too forward, too soon?”

  Beth lifted her finger up to his mouth to shush him. “I didn’t expect it, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.” She leaned in and released a gentle sigh. Again they kissed, only this time longer.

  Blushing, Beth gazed at the ground and kicked at the gravel with her shoes.

  “I have to tell you. I saw your yearbook at Marisa’s, and I borrowed it. You said it wasn’t from my senior year, yet it appears you were wrong.” He tipped her chin toward him. “But something tells me you already knew that.”

  “You looked at it?”

  “Of course. I had to find out what words of wisdom I’d written to you. ‘Have a nice summer.’”

  “Don’t forget the smiley face.”

  He brushed a stray hair behind her right ear. “So that really meant something to you?”

  “You hung out with my family. I saw you when I cheered for football games. And you sang in the school play. I couldn’t wait to be in one of the high school dramas. And I guess when you wrote that, my little naïve, junior high mind took it to mean something more. Later I realized you were only being friendly, and by then, I was crushed.”

  She’d hung onto his words all those years. “To be fair, you were in middle school.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to sign all your yearbooks now.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you would.” Playfully, Beth slugged him in the arm as they entered the coffee shop.

  Once inside, Mark ordered for them. Hazelnut for himself and a minty mocha concoction for Beth. As they sat at the corner table, he surveyed the establishment. The place appeared deserted, likely because of the impending holiday.

  Beth stood. “I’m getting sugar. Do you want any creamer or sweetener?”

  Mark gripped his coffee. “It doesn’t need that other stuff to dress it up. I like it the way it is.” He looked at her, grinned, and took a sip. “Thanks.”

  After adding sugar to her coffee, Beth sat next to him and sipped in silence.

  “So what if I’d said I wanted to go out with Marisa?” he asked.

  “Then I would have been happy for Marisa and you. You’re my friends. That’s what friends do.”

  “Laying down your life for your friend?”

  “What I did hardly compares to what you did for Chris. You were willing to risk your life to save him.”

  He rubbed his forehead. If she only knew the half of it. Good thing she didn’t. “Perhaps, but you were willing to lay aside your desires, your feelings, for your friend.” Mark glanced at her. “I think that’s pretty noble.”

  “Thanks.” Beth sipped her coffee. “Do you ever wonder…?”

  “What Chris would think? Yes, I’ve thought about it. But then I also thought if he hadn’t died, then none of this would have happened. I mean, if he had stayed at home, you probably would have stayed at home, or he and I would have run the bait store.” He’d lost Chris, but God also had brought Beth into his life. It was funny how things had worked out.

  “And then he would have helped me with my flat tire and not you. You know, I don’t believe in coincidence. God must have planned it. Maybe we can look at this as something good that came from Chris’s death.”

  Yes, it was a good thing. His shoulders tensed. The only one.

  Beth rummaged through her purse then removed a pen. “I have a great idea for a lesson plan. Figured I better write it down before I forget.” Beth scribbled on a napkin.

  A lesson plan idea out of the blue. Maybe that was how the mind of a free spirit worked. He studied her letters—swirly cursive. “Nice writing.”

  He pulled out the envelope that had contained his invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her. “I guess I must have remembered your writing from Fishy Business or from your letters to Chris.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when I saw the envelope for your Thanksgiving dinner invitation, the writing looked familiar.”

  “Oh?” She blushed and avoided eye contact.

  Mark waved the envelope in front of her. “Beth, is there another reason why I recognize the writing?”

  “Perhaps.” She folded her arms and leaned over the napkin.

  “Care to tell me?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’m sorry you feel like you can’t confide in me.”

  “I would, but it’s—”

  The door chimed, and a middle-aged man walked in the café.

  Mark studied his cup and leaned closer to Beth. “You’d tell me but… It’s too hurtful? Too sad?”

  “Try embarrassing.”

  “Worse than the yearbook?” Now he’d done it. Her face turned bright red. Oh, boy. “Look, whatever it is, was probably so long ago, I’m sure we’ll look back on it and laugh.”

  Beth hung her head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “How bad can it be?” Surely, it wasn’t like his secrets. Still, what right did he have to ask her to share hers? None whatsoever.

  She held up her coffee cup and admired it. “February fourteenth, my eighth-grade year. You were a senior. The cheerleaders made candy-filled mugs for different football players. I was stoked because I had your name.”

  He tried hard to suppress the nervous laughter—just the thought of her being excited because she had his name. Still, he had to consider her feelings. Maintain a serious look.

  “So I wrote you this note and attached it to the mug. Chris got a note from one of the senior girls, and you, all you received was a note from the little Martindale. I guess you were pretty embarrassed. So after school, when you stopped by my house with my brother, you handed me back the mug and basically thanked me but suggested I give it to a boy closer to my age. I hated Valentine’s Day for a long time and didn’t like my brother hanging out with you afterward. I wasn’t exactly excited to see you when I first arrived in Riversdale either, but that changed. Anyway, that could be why you remember the writing.”

  “I’m sorry. But you were only in eighth grade. I was a senior. Wait. Is that the reason for all the elderly jokes?”

  “I was too young for you. Not good enough. I was Chris’s little sister, nothing more. And then, years later, you came back to town, saw me in front of the café, and you didn’t even say as much as hello. That’s not the only time. You came to Chris’s funeral. I saw you sitting off to the side.” She buried her head in her hands for a moment and then looked up again. “Mark, for so long, I’ve felt… invisible. Maybe what happened in the past meant nothing to you, but it broke my heart.”

  He moved closer and took her hand. “I’m sorry about what happened. I can’t change the past. But I hope to make sure I never break your heart again.”

  Whoa. Where did those words come from?—things he shouldn’t have said, shouldn’t have promised, especially with something so big he was still keeping from her, and intended to keep from her forever.
But on the off chance she did find out, he would indeed break her heart. No doubt about it. But the words were already out there. He could only hope and pray she’d never uncover this one last secret. He hated keeping things from her, but this was for her own good.

  32

  Since Mark left his house early in the morning, no one else had entered or exited for several hours. The Knight was sure of it, and after watching the house from a distance for a period of hours, he ought to know. He studied dates, times, and other pertinent information in his notebook. Today was the housekeeper’s day off.

  After running his fingers through his newly dyed hair, he closed his car door and sauntered over to Mark’s front door. The Knight listened, but no noise came from inside. Once he opened the unlocked door, a little black creature scampered outside. He grabbed the dog’s collar and scooped it up. The animal barked with intensity and flashed his fangs. The animal would make too much noise and give him away. The Knight clamped his hand over its muzzle and jogged to his car. The dog wrestled in his grip. No one else appeared to be outside. The Knight shoved the dog into his vehicle and took off, parking one block away.

  The dog continued barking. The Knight reached for his Sig Sauer and pointed at the animal. It tilted its head. Dumb, cute, furry little thing. Besides, the Knight hadn’t brought a silencer. Someone might hear something, not to mention he didn’t want to mess up his car. He eyed the bottle of hand sanitizer that sat in his center console. Once the dog was gone, he’d need to wipe the car clean. Never telling what germs dogs might carry. Supposedly clean animals—yeah right. He willed himself not to scratch the prominent temporary tattoos that adorned his arm and neck. Probably would infect his skin with some canine disease.

  After he put away the gun, he drove to a burger joint around the corner. He ordered a cheeseburger and fed it to the dog. When the animal finished its snack, the Knight scooped it up and walked back toward Mark’s house. He’d come back later for what he wanted and chalk today up to reconnaissance.

  Mark’s housekeeper stood near the front door. “Sparky! Where are you?”

  The woman wasn’t even supposed to be there today. Now what? The Knight walked through Mark’s yard, carrying the dog.

  The housekeeper met him halfway. “You’ve found him. You found Sparky. I don’t know how he got out. Thank you. Thank you.”

  The Knight handed the woman the dog.

  “Come inside.” She opened the door. “I’ll be right back. Let me put him outside.”

  While in the foyer, the Knight got enough of a glimpse to notice Mark’s wheelchair inside the house—without him in it. He gritted his teeth. Just as deceitful as his stepdad. Which meant Mark was just as dangerous.

  The housekeeper returned. “May I have your name? I’m sure Mr. Graham would be happy to know you found his dog.”

  The man extended his hand to her and grinned. “Knight, Mr. Knight.”

  She shook it. “Nigh-yeet,” she sounded. “OK, Mr. Nighyeet, I will let him know. Thank you. You live close by? Mr. Graham might like to have you over for coffee or something.”

  The Knight licked his lips. “I think I’d like that.”

  33

  Mark waited until seven forty-five to pick up Beth at her apartment and then drove them to Fishy Business. After unlocking the store and turning the front sign to read ‘Open,’ he walked over to the cooler, removed two sodas, and handed one to Beth. “Thanks for spending the day with me. You didn’t have to help out.”

  “I’m caught up on my grading, and I don’t need to work at the mall until the day after Thanksgiving. Besides, I think it’s nice you offered to work today so Tim and Bill could spend time with their family.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Your parents aren’t coming in until this evening, so I didn’t mind.”

  “And we get to spend more time together, so you won’t hear me complaining.” Beth took a few sips of her soda then rubbed her arms.

  Mark pointed to a backpack next to the desk at the back of the store. “If you unzip my bag, there’s a sweatshirt inside, in case you’re cold.”

  “Thanks.” Beth unzipped the bag, removed the sweatshirt, and pulled it over her t-shirt. “A little big but it works.”

  Mark reclined on a stool near the register and envisioned their chance meeting in front of the café over ten years prior. The shy teen he’d avoided back then was the stunning woman beside him. “I know you won’t believe me, but I think it looks nice on you.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and he grabbed her hand. “You OK?”

  “You were right. I crack jokes to keep people at a distance. So, now, getting close to someone…someone I care about” —Beth cleared her throat—”that scares me a little.”

  “And it’s easier to keep your distance so you don’t have to worry about losing them.” Of all people, Beth ought to realize he understood how she felt.

  “Right.”

  “There’s no fear in love. God loves us and doesn’t want us to be afraid. As someone reminded me, we have to trust God.”

  Beth studied their interlaced hands and smiled. “Sounds like a wise person.”

  He turned to face her, and using both hands, attempted to infuse warmth into hers. “Look, are you sure us spending Thanksgiving together is OK? I can go hang out with Bill and Tim if it’s not.”

  “I’m sure it’s OK. Though I might need to pinch myself as a reminder this is real.” She smiled.

  “How about a kiss instead?” Sitting on the stool narrowed the height gap between them. He tugged her close. Their lips brushed then connected. Reluctantly, he pulled away. The part of him that didn’t want to let go lost out against the part of him that knew they should take things slow.

  Beth grinned and walked away with a box of lures. “I’ll put these away for you.”

  Mark set his Bible on the counter next to the register. The day before Thanksgiving, there shouldn’t be too many customers. A good time to catch up on reading the Word. Not to mention a good distraction from Beth for the moment.

  The door chimed, and a familiar-looking man charged toward him.

  “Private Davis?” Mark smiled and waved. “Kent, it’s been a long time.” Mark extended his arm and shook hands with the man.

  “It has, hasn’t it?”

  Mark folded his arms. “What brings you here?”

  “I’ve been working at an orphanage not far from here, over the border in Mexico. I can’t get home for the holiday, so Bill and Tim invited me to their house.”

  “They were going to work today, but I decided to come in so they took the day off.”

  “It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time. I think the last time I saw you was the night Chris died.”

  “Yep. I was in the infirmary for a long time afterwards.”

  Kent’s eyes widened then he fingered the Bible beside the register. “That’s right. And while you were in there, I was reassigned. Good to see you still seeking God’s truths.”

  Mark nodded. Kent had led him to the Lord. Could he have possibly…”Kent, did Chris ever talk to you about God?”

  “Actually, the night before Chris was killed, he came to me. He said you’d been talking to him about the Bible. He wanted to pray to receive Christ, but I think he needed to talk to someone other than you. He accepted Christ late in the night before you left for your mission.”

  Mark shook his head and stared at Kent. “Why didn’t he say anything to me?”

  Kent looked at the ground. “I don’t think he had time.”

  Mark placed his hand on Kent’s shoulder. “I appreciate you sharing that. I’ve been carrying around these feelings about Chris’s death, but your news helps me feel”—he took a deep breath and willed himself not to cry—”more at peace.” That wasn’t a lie. Even though it didn’t wipe away all the guilt and secrets, it did help.

  Beth’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Me, too,” her voice quivered. “We’ve got to tell my mom and dad. They’ll”—She clea
red her throat—”want to know.” She held out her hand to Kent. “I’m Beth Martindale. Chris’s sister.”

  Kent smiled. “Chris always said that when you grew up you’d be a knockout. It’s good to meet you, Beth. Your brother—he was a good man.” He nodded toward Mark. “Good to see you again.” Kent waved. “You have a good Thanksgiving.”

  “You, too.” Mark inhaled another deep breath and relaxed his shoulders.

  Mark’s cell phone vibrated. If it was a call, he’d return it later. If it was a message, he could read it some other time. He couldn’t imagine anything so important as to command his attention at that moment.

  34

  The Knight consumed half a pill with his Thanksgiving breakfast. Just enough to help him summon the courage to call his beloved Beth but not so much so to quench his desire to rescue her from the likes of scoundrels such as Mark Graham. So hard to contain his enthusiasm. Not the same as conversing with his lady fair face-to-face but exhilarating nonetheless. At least she would hear his voice.

  He wouldn’t stay on long to avoid allowing Riversdale PD the opportunity to trace the call. And he was smart enough to use a prepaid cell phone. One he’d toss afterward. So no concerns about the conversation being traced back to him. Pleasing and irritating at the same time. If society wasn’t so backward, they’d understand his motives. Then there would be no reason to stay in hiding, no need to contact Beth in secret.

  While waiting for the pill to take full effect, the Knight entered his shrine to Beth and lit the candles surrounding her photo. He grabbed a paper from his table—a printout from the faculty page of Riversdale Community College’s website. After he tore the paper in two, the Knight proceeded to burn Mark Graham’s image. When finished, the Knight approached Beth’s photo. “It’s OK. I’m here to rescue you. I’m your Knight. Worry no more, my fair maiden. Soon, you will be free. Mark Graham will no longer hurt you. And you and I will be together. The way it should be.”