Dark Ends: A Horror Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  The bartender was a burly man with a long beard and a bald head. He nodded at me when I pulled myself onto the stool. Once he was done putting some glasses away, he made his way down the bar to stand in front of me.

  “What can I get for you?” he asked quietly.

  “I’ll have whatever you have on tap,” I said.

  The bartender nodded and made his way back down the bar to pour my beer. I watched him pull the tap and fill the glass with the pale, amber liquid. Even though it was a dive bar in a small town and he was probably filling my glass with a cheap, mass-produced brew, he still took the time to get the perfect amount of foam on the top. I appreciated people who took their work seriously, no matter what they were doing, and tipped him well.

  I was about a quarter of the way through my beer when Sylvie walked into the bar. I’d been there for about twenty minutes because I was nursing my drink slowly. I didn’t want to get drunk because, even though I had to wait for Ellie, I still planned on working the next day. I figured if I dug hard enough, I might come up with something.

  Sylvie looked around the bar and spotted me almost immediately. Her face lit up and she walked quickly over to me. After hopping up on the stool to my right, she waved to the bartender.

  “Hey, Sylvie,” he said. “The usual?”

  “You know me so well,” she said, and he started making her a drink. I didn’t pay too close attention but I knew it had a shot of whiskey.

  One thing I did notice was that everyone in the bar turned their attention away from us when Sylvie sat down. The regulars had been watching me pretty closely up until that point.

  “Here you go,” the bartender said as he set the drink down in front of Sylvie. “Can I get you anything else? Is your beer okay?” he asked me and then indicated my partially drunk beer.

  “I’m okay. I’m just a lightweight. It’s fine,” I said with a smile and took a big swallow to prove it.

  “Thanks, Jimbo,” Sylvie said to the bartender. So, at that point, I knew his name.

  “Not a problem, Syl. Let me know if you need another, and get me if any of these jerks bother you again,” Jimbo said, and I could see a fiercely protective gleam in his eye.

  “Thanks, Jimbo.”

  When he was gone and Sylvie had turned her attention back to me, I had to know what they were talking about. Jimbo was sweet to Sylvie, but there were other men and women in the bar who were shooting daggers at her with their eyes. I could smell a story behind it all.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked when Sylvie set her drink down on the bar.

  “Oh, people around here don’t like me much. They don’t show it during the day while I’m working at the ice cream shop, but nobody feels the need to pretend to be neighborly in here,” she said.

  “It’s probably rude of me to ask, seeing as how we don’t know each other that well, but why don’t they like you?”

  “It’s because of my other job,” she said matter-of-factly. “You see, I work at Stan’s ice cream place during the day for him, but on Friday and Saturday night, I work at his other business,” Sylvie said with a shrug.

  “What’s his other business?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if I should tell you. I don’t want you to start disliking me too. Then I’ll have to sit here and drink my cocktail alone. You know what they say about people who drink alone,” she said softly.

  “I assure you that I won’t dislike you because of your other job. How bad can it be if Stan owns an ice cream parlor?” I asked.

  She chuckled. “Okay, so one county over, Stan owns a strip club called the Snake Pit.”

  My eyes must have gone as wide as saucers because Sylvie let out a howl of laughter. I snapped my jaw closed because it really wasn’t a big deal, but it wasn’t what I expected. “That’s not what I expected.”

  “Well, it’s not so bad. We don’t get totally naked or anything. It’s not even a topless bar. The furthest we go is down to a bikini, but even I have to admit that some of them are pretty skimpy. I wouldn’t invite my mom in to check it out,” she said and took a big gulp of her drink. “Anyway, it’s not bad money to wiggle around on stage in a bathing suit, and Jimbo here works as the bouncer because there’s another bartender that works weekends here. He makes sure that no one gets handsy when they are throwing five-dollar bills at me,” she said and winked at Jimbo, who’d been standing just within earshot.

  I took a minute to process what Sylvie had told me. It made sense. She was a knockout, but what didn’t make sense was how people who knew she worked as an exotic dancer didn’t approve.

  “Do you tell the people who live around here that you dance there?” I asked, completely perplexed.

  “Nope, it’s not something I advertise.”

  “How do they know you dance at that place if they hate it so much?”

  “Amen to that,” Sylvie said and clinked her glass against mine.

  That was my first taste of small town hypocrisy, and looking back, I think it poisoned me to Ash Road a little bit. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to encounter too much more judgment from the people around me before I got to escape.

  “I’m going to go back to my room,” I said when I finished my beer. “Do you want me to walk you home or anything?” I asked because I wasn’t accustomed to leaving female friends alone in bars.

  “I’m cool. The bar closes in a couple of hours and Jimbo will make sure I get home safely.”

  “Alright.”

  After that, we exchanged cell phone numbers and said our goodbyes. I walked back to the inn quickly. It wasn’t that late but Ash Road felt abandoned. I could still see the light of the diner, but no one appeared to be coming or going.

  When I got back to the inn, no one was sitting at the front desk. I figured no one would work at night, but I wished I’d asked if the Magnolia and Willow had any vending machines. It didn’t seem likely, but I still decided to poke around the first floor. I was pleasantly surprised when I found a soda and candy machine tucked in an alcove by the kitchen. I pulled some change out of my purse and bought a Diet Coke before making my way up to my room.

  For a moment, I thought I saw movement outside of the window in the lobby. It was a flash of shadow that was vaguely human shaped. By the time I turned my head to look out the window fully, there was nothing there. I dashed up the stairs to look out my room’s window. I figured if there was someone out there, I’d be able to see them. Again, there was no one there, but I did think that I saw some bushes across the garden rustling slightly. There was no wind.

  I sat down at the table in my room and opened my soda. There was so much about this town that I didn’t understand, and I had to fight back my frustration.

  Just as I was about to attempt to find something on television so I could zone out, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Brody. I’d given him my phone number earlier in case he needed to let me know if he wasn’t coming into work one day or something.

  I just wanted to make sure you were in safe for the night.

  That seemed both sweet and odd at the same time. I even felt a little bad for not inviting him out with me, but I had no idea why. We were temporary coworkers and nothing more. I didn’t owe him an invite out, and I certainly didn’t have to check in with him.

  I’m in. I’m fine. Thanks for thinking of me.

  I typed it out so quickly that I didn’t realize it wasn’t what I wanted to say until I’d already hit send. Something about Brody had gotten under my skin, and it was more than a little distressing. My conscious mind wanted nothing more than to keep him at arm’s length, and that was particularly true since I had no idea at the time if I could trust him. My subconscious, on the other hand, seemed to want to undermine my ability to keep him at a distance.

  Good night Lara

  I texted him back and told him good night too.

  I had to get my head on straight, and I needed something productive to do for the next few days. Without purpose, I knew that I’d get myself in
to some sort of trouble. Either I’d form a friendship with Brody that would be painful to leave when I got out of Ash Road, or I’d find a way into those locked rooms. Those historical records were like catnip for me. It was exciting thinking about all of the archives stashed in those rooms.

  Brody was trouble whether he was up to no good or not.

  Brody, Brody, Brody...

  Why did I keep thinking about him? I decided right then that I would be taking a field trip the next day. Sitting around the records building wasn’t a productive use of my time, and there was someone in town that I hadn’t met yet.

  I decided to wait until the next morning to let Brody know that I’d be late. It was still early enough at the time that if I’d told him then, he could have called me and argued with my decision.

  With that, I got ready for bed and turned in for the night. I pushed the image of Brody’s cobalt eyes and thick lips out of my mind as I drifted off. Having him be the last thing I thought about at the end of the day was not acceptable.

  Ellie would be there in a few days and we’d get this case solved. Then I planned on putting Ash Road in my rearview mirror. It was possible that I’d keep in touch with Sylvie, but the rest of this town could stuff it.

  Chapter Five

  Lara

  I felt better the next morning after a good night’s sleep. I woke up feeling refreshed and determined. It was still early and I had plenty of time before work. I could smell Becca cooking breakfast, and it was obviously something amazing. I was picking up the scent of warm vanilla and bacon too. My waistline was not going to survive Ash Road unless I took action.

  Much to my delight, I had packed my running shoes and some shorts. An early morning jog seemed like a good way to explore the town. I’d never run there before so I had no idea where to go. I opened up my laptop and did a search for the address of the place I wanted to go after breakfast.

  I found it on the map and planned out a route so that I could see where I was going in a couple of hours. It wasn’t far from the inn, but then again, not much was.

  There were a couple of guests sitting in the parlor downstairs waiting for the breakfast room to open. They gave me a little wave and a smile as I made my way down the stairs.

  Once I was outside, I walked up and down the block a couple of times to warm up and then made my way into the garden to stretch. The air was crisp and the humidity was low. It was a good day for a run for sure.

  When I ran in the city, I’d always passed other runners and walkers, but in Ash Road, I was the only person out exercising. There were some older folks sitting on their wraparound porches watching me go by. Some of them looked at me like I was an exotic zoo animal, but others waved and smiled.

  The end of my route was a cul-de-sac on the edge of town. On the far side of it stood the mayor’s house. It was a stately mansion that put every other house in town to shame.

  I looked up at the brick exterior covered with vines and noticed movement in one of the front windows. At the time, I wasn’t ready to meet the occupant just yet, so I turned tail and ran back to the inn.

  The aroma of vanilla and bacon hit me half a block away from the Magnolia and Willow. I picked up speed and sprinted the rest of the way because I wanted to shower and get down to the breakfast room while the food was fresh.

  My shower was lightning fast, and I dressed in tailored black slacks and my favorite poppy-red tunic. I wanted to be comfortable when I met Gordon O’Malley, but after seeing his mansion I knew that I needed to look put together.

  Then I thought Hmmm, O’Malley. Big mansion. Has to be a coincidence...

  I’d know when I saw him if there was a resemblance. Up until then, I decided to assume it was a coincidence. Even though I didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Down in the breakfast room, the sights and smells of the spread made my mouth water. I was extra hungry because of my morning run and I was almost buzzing with anticipation.

  I grabbed a plate and filled it with two vanilla-orange muffins and a pile of bacon. As I sat down at a table to dig in, I promised myself that I’d eat plenty of vegetables at dinner in addition to the fruit I had packed in my lunch. Fortunately, I’d made my lunch the night before while I was winding down and I wouldn’t have to go out to eat. Part of me secretly hoped that Brody would invite me over and cook for me again, but I couldn’t count on that.

  When I was done eating, I cleared my table. My stomach was so full that I thought I’d burst, but I figured the walk back over to the mayor’s house would help. I’d have time to digest and work off some of the calories.

  Before I left the inn, I shot off a text to Brody telling him I’d be in later because I had a meeting with the mayor. As soon as I slipped my phone into my purse, I felt it vibrate. I figured it was Brody responding but I debated about whether to look or not.

  In the end, I decided to look. My curiosity was too intense for me to ignore. I had to see how he’d reacted.

  I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why do you need to work with the mayor?

  That response had been about what I’d been expecting. I wasn’t going to get baited into a conversation with him. I’d deal with Brody after I met Gordon the Mayor. I was in Ash Road to solve a mystery and I was letting the locals get too close.

  I still didn’t have a vehicle so I had to walk back to the mayor’s house. The agency that I used to find work told me that Mayor O’Malley had an office in the town hall but that he usually worked in his home office. I hoped that he’d be working at home that day because otherwise, I’d have to track him down at his workplace.

  As I rang the doorbell, I found myself holding my breath. My chest expanded with air as the door opened, and I hoped that I wasn’t beet red. Normally, I wasn’t such a nervous person, but something about the house made me anxious. I didn’t know if it was because it was so ostentatious or if I was picking up a bad vibe.

  “Can I help you?” An older woman with a pinched nose and gray hair pulled into a severe bun opened the door. She was dressed in a housekeeper’s uniform and thick, rubber-soled shoes.

  “My name is Lara Tyler, and Mayor O’Malley hired me to verify that Francesca Horowitz has no next of kin. My agency informed me that he regularly works from his home office. I was hoping for a brief meeting with him. We haven’t met yet.”

  “Gordon doesn’t take impromptu meetings. You’ll need to make an appointment through his secretary at the town hall,” she said curtly.

  My shoulders slumped a little but I tried not to let my disappointment show too much. “Could you ask for me? I know that Mrs. Horowitz’s estate is valuable to the town. Perhaps he’ll make an exception.”

  “One moment,” she huffed and half slammed the door in my face.

  I didn’t have to wait long. The woman opened the door again. She had an annoyed look plastered across her wrinkled face, but she stepped back and beckoned me to enter.

  “Gordon said he could fit you into his schedule in twenty minutes. I’m to show you to the parlor outside of his office,” she said as she walked away, and I quickly followed her.

  When we got to the opulent sitting area outside of the mayor’s office, I understood why he worked at home. There was no way that his workspace at the town hall was as beautiful as his home setup.

  I sat down on an antique French sofa. The woman, who still hadn’t introduced herself to me yet, stood watching me with her arms crossed across her chest. “I suppose I should offer you a drink,” she said flatly.

  “I don’t want to be any bother,” I responded.

  “You’re not from around here, but I get the feeling you still know that it’s rude to turn down hospitality when it’s offered.”

  She was right. I knew better. “Thank you, I’ll have some sweet tea if you’ve got it.”

  The look on her face softened a bit. “Right away,” she said and quickly shuffled out of the room.

  I stood when the woman, who I assumed ran the household, returned with a large gla
ss of sweet tea. She signaled for me to sit down.

  “I’m Agatha. I’m the head housekeeper for the O’Malley household, and as you can see, I also frequently handle the butler duties as well. Mr. O’Malley will be with you soon. Please let me know if I can do anything for you.”

  I nodded and thanked her. Agatha stood in her spot, watching me for a moment, and I realized she was waiting for me to take a drink of my tea.

  After taking a long draw of the refreshing, perfectly sweet tea, I raised my glass up a bit and said, “Thank you for the tea. It’s the best I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t a lie either.

  Agatha let a satisfied grin spread across her stern face and I knew then that I’d made a new connection. She walked away, quietly humming a tune I almost recognized, and left me to wait for Gordon O’Malley.

  I waited another thirteen minutes; I know because I kept checking my phone, and then Gordon O’Malley finally emerged from his office. He looked exactly as I’d imagined once I’d walked into his house. He was tall, over tanned, and his hair was perfectly slicked with not a strand out of place. When he smiled, I got a flash of his blinding white caps.

  He walked through the door and extended his hand to me. “I’m Mayor O’Malley, and you must be Lara Tyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry you had to wait.”

  “It’s good to meet you too,” I began. “The wait is no problem. I didn’t make an appointment so thank you for squeezing me in.”

  “You’re most welcome. You’re doing important work for the town of Ash Road, Ms. Tyler. Please come into my office and have a seat,” he said, and I began to wonder if I was a fly being asked to have a seat in the spider’s web.

  I settled into my chair and folded my hands in my lap with my ankles crossed. At the time, I was still trying to figure out the best way to rattle Gordon O’Malley’s cage, so I decided that I’d act demure while I sized him up. He struck me right away as the type of man who thought women had a place.