Paradise Park

by Carolina Mac

  Gary chuckled but didn’t take his eyes off the sizzling bacon.

  “I heard sirens a while ago,” said Rob. “Thought they were coming here.”

  “Guess I slept through it.” Gary put the food on a plate and set it in front of his brother.

  “Guess you did. You were wasted. Beating on Sheila and all. Maybe you ain’t her man now.” Rob laughed as he ate his eggs. “Can you make me more toast?”

  “Go fuck yourself and make your own toast.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Any asshole can make toast,” hollered Gary. “Where’d you come from?”

  “Same place as you.”

  “Where’d you stash your ride?” Gary poured himself a coffee.

  “At my buddy’s place in town.”

  “Why do you need to be here? You should be in Mexico by now.”

  “I never raped that skinny blonde girl. She was ugly and cold as a week-old corpse.”

  “How do you know how ugly a week-old corpse is?”

  “Just guessing.”

  “Right.” Gary stared across the table at Rob to see if he could pick up on anything. “By the way, your wannabe girlfriend walked by last night with her boyfriend and her mutt.”

  Rob jumped off his chair. “Damn it all, Gary, you’re just telling me now?”

  “I was being considerate. Didn’t want you to get hard and crazy love-sick so early in the a.m.”

  Rob’s face broke into a wide smile. “Did you see her, bro?”

  “Not really. She was on the road. It was dark and I was drunk.”

  “Jesus M. Murphy, I have never seen anything like it. And her truck. That’s one piece of equipment that is.”

  “You’re gonna get off just thinking about her.” The toast popped up and Gary retrieved it.

  “That’s a fact.”

  “I’ll check her out when I go over to Sheila’s to smooth things over.”

  “Why do you want to do that?” Rob took the toast from Gary, sat down and spread on a thick layer of strawberry jam.

  “Might need to get laid later.”

  Rob screwed up his face. “Makes me sick to think about her skinny body.”

  “If the lights are out, it ain’t too bad.”

  “Fuck, bro. You’re up against it, doin throw-away junk like that.”

  “Sheila’s hot for me.”

  “Even after you pasted her in the head?”

  “She paid me back for that one.” He touched his black and blue nose and groaned. “We’re even.”

  AT SEVEN O’CLOCK, Gary showered, shaved carefully around the bruised and battered areas of his face and changed into clean clothes. He splashed on two-year-old Brut cologne and shoved bare feet into his scuffed cowboy boots.

  Rob watched him getting ready. “Shit, bro is this effort all for that matchstick, Sheila?”

  “No. I’m going to get Sheila and make it look like we’re taking a walk so’s I can cruise past the looker-girl’s trailer and see what you’re jerkin off for.”

  Rob raised dark eyebrows. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s mine and only mine.”

  “She ain’t yours. She belongs to the big trucker.”

  “Not for long.”

  Gary waltzed out the door letting the screen slam behind him. Rob kicked the door and let out a howl. “Fuck, you Gary. If you touch her, I’ll kill you myself.”

  SHEILA AND MARG were lounging on the deck, enjoying their usual slime-green blender drinks when Gary approached the steps. “Good evening, girls. Mind if I join you?”

  “Beat it, Gary,” said Sheila, “you and I are history.”

  Gary strutted up the steps like the cock-of-the-walk and planted a huge kiss on Sheila. “History was yesterday, my sweet. Today is a new day and we’re only getting started.”

  “Bloody hell, Gary,” said Marg, “leave her alone. She don’t want you no more.”

  “Is that true, Sheila, darlin?” Gary made a pouty face. “You don’t love me no more?”

  Sheila touched the dark blue bruise under her eye. “Well…”

  “See. I knew you were just mad at me a tiny bit. We’re gonna have make-up sex tonight and it’s gonna be our best time ever.”

  “We are?” Sheila seemed to brighten a little.

  Marg looked like she might hurl. “Don’t believe his fucking lies, girl.”

  “Are you lying to me, Gary?” asked Sheila, giving him a coquettish look.

  “Would I lie to you?” Gary stroked her stringy hair. “Let’s go for a little walk, just the two of us so we can talk.”

  Sheila smiled. “Sure, Gary, whatever you say.”

  Gary offered his hand and off they went down the steps and up Pine Street. Gary took a left when they got to Hickory Lane and picked up the pace.

  “This is a dead end, sweetheart,” said Sheila, oblivious to the master plan.

  “Shut up, woman.” Gary had dropped the fake charm. “People I need to see live on this street.” Half way down the street they passed April’s trailer. “For sale, eh?”

  “Yes,” said Sheila. “Guess she moved back home with her mother.”

  “Too bad,” said Gary, “shortage of single girls in the park.”

  Sheila smiled. “I’m single.”

  Gary winked at her. “Ain’t that the truth?”

  Lonnie and Gracie were drinking coffee on the deck when Gary and Sheila strolled down the street towards them. “Hey, folks, nice night for a walk in the park.” Gary chuckled at his own cleverness. He tugged Sheila’s hand and pulled her behind him up the steps and onto Grace’s deck.

  Ted growled. Lonnie got off his chair and pulled himself up to his full height.

  Gary hadn’t realized how big the trucker was until they were face to face. “This is a friendly visit,” said Gary unable to take his eyes off Grace. “Just wanted to let you know, I’m a damn good truck mechanic if you ever need my services. Because we’re neighbors, I’ll cut you a good deal and guarantee my work.”

  Lord Jesus, take me now. I’ve seen the most beautiful thing God ever made. Fuck, look at that black hair and the face. I can’t believe her face. And the tank top. I’m gonna cream my jeans.

  “Good to know.” Lonnie placed himself physically between Gary and Grace. “Heard from your brother?”

  “Not a fuckin word. Don’t know where in hell he got to. Wild as they come.” He took Sheila by the hand and jerked her down the steps. He was silent as they retraced their steps to Sheila’s trailer.

  Gary shook his head and flicked his lighter. “Fuck, did you see that girl?”

  “Who, Grace?”

  “Grace? That her name?” When they reached Sheila’s driveway, Gary dropped her hand. “Got some stuff I’ve got to do. Catch you later.”

  “What about…?” Sheila was talking to empty space. Gary was gone.

  Five minutes later, Gary blasted into the kitchen of his own trailer and went straight to the fridge. He grabbed a cold one and popped the top.

  Rob looked up from the baseball game. “Well, did you see her?”

  Gary chugged half his beer. “Fuck, I saw her all right.”

  “And?” Rob turned around to get a look at his brother.

  “That is one beautiful looking thing over there,” said Gary. “Couldn’t fuckin believe it.”

  “Was the trucker there?”

  “Hell yeah. He’s watching over her like a bodyguard. Son of a bitch is a big motherfucker and he’s all muscled up. Don’t think I could take him.”

  “You won’t need to. You ain’t going near her.”

  Gary flopped down on the sofa. “But you are?”

  “When my plan is tight.”

  Gary smirked as he goaded his brother. “And just when will that be?”

  “When I’m ready.”

  “Days? Weeks? Months? What’s the time frame?”

  Rob walked over and pointed a finger at his brother. “You shut the fuck up, Gary, or you’ll wake up dead in your own grimy trailer.�
��

  Gary never took his eyes off the TV. “Try it.”

  “I’ll kill you in your sleep.” Rob hauled back and punched Gary in the gut.

  Gary snorted. “I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

  They both laughed and Rob got another round from the fridge.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HAROLD DEEGAN PULLED his truck up behind the police presence on the shore of Little Lazy Lake. TV crews and reporters were parked up and down the sides of the road leaving hardly any space to squeeze down the narrow path between. He grabbed his cane and made his way through the knot of officers until he found Detective McMurtry. “Anything yet?”

  “It’s four thirty. We’ve been here all day and nothing. Not a big lake, but some areas are deep out in the middle. The drag lines keep getting tangled on sunken logs and weeds.”

  “Where were the dogs floating?”

  “They were bobbing along near the north shore when the fisherman spotted them,” said Spangler. “That’s closer to Mr. Plimpton’s cabin, right?”

  “Right. His shack is over there.” Harold pointed, “I don’t think you could even call it a cabin.”

  “Another half hour and we’re calling this off,” said McMurtry. “The chief wants us back on the job. No overtime.”

  “Sorry about Mrs. Farrell.” Spangler gave Harold a sympathetic look. “I know she was a friend of yours.”

  “If she died because of the stress of Mabel’s disappearance, I’m going to be pissed at Edgar Plimpton.”

  “If we can prove he killed his wife you won’t be the only one pissed at him,” said Spangler, “There will be a line-up of people waiting to tear him apart.”

  “Can you prove the dogs were his?” asked Harold.

  “No. There wasn’t much left of them. Small dogs to begin with. Bits of fur—puffed up like balloons and tied together with clothesline rope. Been in the water too long.” Spangler made a face.

  “Who else had five Chihuahuas?” asked Harold.

  “Nobody—I know. But we can’t prove they were his. No collars. No tags. No chips.”

  “Too bad. Wish I could help.”

  “Nothing much we can do without a body or a weapon or a witness,” said Spangler.

  “Anything on April’s case?” asked Harold. “I know you can’t discuss it. Feel bad for her being so scared she can’t live in the park anymore. Always figured the park was a safe place.”

  “Another dead end, but all we need is a break. It’s a shame she’s afraid to live alone now. Understandable, but still a shame.”

  “Better get on home. The way things are going, the devil might be unleashing more hell on the park and I wouldn’t even know it.” Harold chuckled as he headed for his truck.

  “Good thing he can laugh,” said McMurtry. “From what he told me, nothing has happened in that park for the last forty years. Just peace and harmony.”

  “What the hell went wrong, partner?” asked Spangler with a grimace.

  ARTHUR LYONS WAS hunkered down on his deck keeping watch on the hoodlum across the street when Harold pulled into his driveway. “Come on in, Harold. I’ve got coffee on.”

  Harold leaned on his cane and made his way slowly up the steps to Arthur’s door. He entered the tidy kitchen and took a seat at the table.

  “You look worn out, Harold,” said Arthur setting a mug down in front of him. “Heard they were dragging Edgar’s lake today looking for Mabel. Any luck?”

  “No. Just came from there. The police are calling it a day.”

  Arthur shook his head. “If the dogs were there, it follows, but maybe it was a trick.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’ve heard of killers trying to trick the cops. They do it all the time on CSI.”

  “Right,” Harold nodded, “on TV.” He poured cream in his coffee.

  “There was another fight across the road,” said Arthur.

  “I know. Mrs. Fishburn on the other side of Eastman phoned and told me. Nothing gets past her. I swear she watches out the window day and night.”

  “Gary hit Miss Sheila and she got mad and swung a beer bottle at him. Hit him in the face.”

  “Good move,” said Harold. “Serves him right for hitting women.”

  “She ain’t been back there since.”

  “Smart woman.” Harold sipped his coffee.

  There was a soft knock on the door and Arthur turned his head. His serious expression changed in an instant. “Mel, come in. Come in. Just started a fresh pot of coffee.”

  She kissed Arthur on the cheek and handed him a Tupperware container. “Baked you some of those cocoanut cookies you like.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Arthur’s face took on a rosy pink hue.

  “Hi Melba,” said Harold. “How are you and your son?”

  “We’re doing okay, Harold. Working and getting by.”

  “Mr. Eastman bothering you lately?”

  “Nope. Not lately. Haven’t seen much of him—not since he got arrested.”

  “Heard Miss Sheila bailed him out,” said Arthur. “That was before he hit her.”

  “Makes sense,” said Harold with a scowl. “Guess she wouldn’t bail him out now that he showed his true colors. When does the case come up?”

  “Detective Spangler said the court would give me notice, but it probably wouldn’t be until the fall—maybe October. Cases are backed up terrible she said.”

  “So sad about Betty Farrell,” said Mel. “Do you know when her funeral will be?”

  “Not yet. The police have ordered an autopsy.”

  “Thought it was a heart attack?” asked Mel.

  “They’re being thorough, I guess,” said Harold glancing at his watch. “Better go. New people moving in and I have to go over the Park agreement with them. Thanks for the coffee.”

  Harold was headed back to his own residence down by the pond when he saw a couple of news vans roll in the gate and turn in the direction of Edgar’s trailer. He shook his head and kept going.

  “Looks good on him,” Harold said to himself. “If you killed Mabel, I hope you rot in hell.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I LOCKED MY arms around Lonnie at the door and pressed my lips into his neck as he came inside for breakfast. He had risen early and mowed all the grass before he pulled out on an overnight run to Montreal. I poured his coffee then touched his damp hair. “I could have cut the grass.”

  “We have double the grass now that there are two of us,” he chuckled.

  “What time do you have to leave?”

  “Before noon. I’ll unload first thing in the morning, pick up a load for Toronto and head back as quick as I can. I’m not happy that you’ve decided to stay here alone.”

  “Not much I can do about it. My publisher wants to see me tomorrow at ten. Otherwise I would have kept you company on the road. I love going in the truck with you.”

  “That was my best trip ever when you rode shotgun.” Lonnie smiled. “Did you call Jerry?”

  “Yep, he and Kate will drive up this afternoon and stay for supper.”

  “You’ll still be alone in the park overnight. That’s the part I fuckin hate.” Lonnie pulled me down onto his lap and held me close. “I love you, girl. I love you like a crazy man or something.”

  Giggling like a teenager I kissed his neck. “I love you too, crazy man.” Then I licked his neck. “Look how sweaty you are from cutting the grass. I love the smell of you.”

  “I better grab a shower,” Lonnie said.

  “Too late.” I ran my hand under his damp shirt and through his chest hair while kissing his face all over.

  Lonnie placed his mouth tenderly over mine, picked me up and carried me to the bedroom, gently laying me on the unmade bed. He removed his sweat-soaked clothes then undressed me piece by piece as I smiled at him. “Your eyes are sparkling with that wild look, Gracie. I’m gonna be tired when I leave for Montreal.”

  When it was time for Lon to go, I gave him a big hug and kissed him go
odbye at the door. “Come back to me, cowboy.”

  “Stay safe. Keep the gun loaded under your pillow. Call the cops the minute you see a stranger.”

  “I will, sugar. I love you.” I shoved my hand up under his shirt and rubbed his back. “Next long trip, I’m going with you. Count on it.”

  JERRY AND KATE arrived mid-afternoon and I was waiting for them with drinks on the deck. Jerry fussed over Ted and he reciprocated by licking Jerry’s face. The chatter was lively at first and then Jerry fell serious and lapsed into his big brother mode. “I called the police station, Grace. They haven’t caught the rapist.”

  “I know. Lonnie is concerned.”

  “You should stay at my place tonight and then drive into the city tomorrow.”

  “I hate being afraid in my own home,” I shook my head. “I don’t want to give in.”

  “You won’t be afraid after the case is closed,” said Kate. “You’ll feel better then.”

  “No doubt about it,” I said, “Did you see the sign on April’s trailer? She moved back into town with her mother.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Kate. “It will take years before she feels safe again.”

  “Lon is…sleeping here now?” asked Jerry, “I don’t want to invade your privacy, Gracie. My only concern is your safety.”

  I smiled at my brother. “Lon and I are together. We’re a couple—and I know it happened fast. I’m usually so cautious, but he’s the one, Jerry. No doubt about it. I hit the jackpot.”

  Jerry grinned. “He’s a good guy, no two ways about it. Liked him the first time I met him. Can’t find any fault with him at all. He’s a hard worker, a straight shooter and it’s obvious how much he loves you. I’m happy for you, sis.”

  “First one of my boyfriends you ever liked, Jerry. That must tell you something.”

  “It does. All the rest were assholes and you deserved better.”

  I giggled and Kate smiled at Jerry.

  The three of us barbequed burgers at dinner time and drank coffee on the deck until dusk. Then Jerry and Kate prepared to leave amid renewed protests. “Please reconsider and stay with us tonight.”

  “I’ll be fine here,” Jerry. “Stop worrying. Besides, I have an hour’s work to do before my meeting. It’s easier to concentrate if I’m home alone. Don’t forget—Ted’s here.”