Serenity Stalked

by Craig A. Hart

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Carly said.

  “Sorry. And yes. Wilkes is an asshole of massive proportions.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t drag you to the pokey. He’s had it in for you since the beginning, as I recall.”

  “I think he’s hoping I’ll run for it.”

  “Do you think he believes you’re guilty or is he throwing shit at the wall?”

  “I’m not sure he cares. He’s willing to believe anything negative about me.”

  “Meaning you think he was tipped off?”

  “He tried to appear nonchalant, but he’s a terrible actor. He knew right where to look.”

  “Someone planted the knife.”

  “That’s what it looks like.”

  “Any idea who?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Wilkes?”

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think so. It would raise a lot of questions about where he got the knife. And, as much as he hates me, I don’t think he’d risk a surefire conviction to steal evidence and try to pin it on me. It wouldn’t hold together. No…someone else planted the knife and tipped him off.”

  “But who?”

  “That will be easier to answer once we know whose blood is on the knife. If it belongs to the Blairs, then whoever planted it is connected with the murders. If it’s not their blood, then it’s likely an enemy of mine who saw an opportunity to make my life more difficult.”

  “But who the hell would do such a thing?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. And it isn’t only the unscrupulous behavior to consider.”

  “What else is there?”

  “The stupidity of it, assuming the blood isn’t from the Blair family. Without that connection, it’s only a bloody knife. Gruesome, but not damning.”

  Carly’s eyes widened.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Shelby said.

  “The Ellises?”

  “They would be that stupid. And they have a major grudge against me, considering I practically destroyed their entire family during the meth war.”

  “Please tell me you’re not planning to go out to the Ellis place.”

  “If I said no, would you believe me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I won’t bother.”

  “They’ll kill you, you know.”

  “Maybe. There aren’t many of them left.”

  “You sound proud of it.”

  “I’ve committed worse sins than weeding out those blights on the human gene pool.”

  “You want a beer?”

  “Hell yes.”

  Shrouded in darkness, Smith watched them through the window. He kept one eye on Shelby, but his attention was on the woman. He had always thought her lovely, but she looked radiant in the warm light of the kitchen. The thin sweater she wore hugged her curves like plastic cling wrap and, for the first time in a long time, Smith felt desire for another human being. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it or what to do. It unnerved him, made him feel vulnerable. A wave of resentment pushed upward, flushing his face and turning his neck hot. Beads of sweat popped out on his brow, in spite of the cool evening. He knew the attraction was dangerous. He should go home, masturbate, and leave this place as soon as possible. Leave the girl and town behind. And yet the feeling was alluring, like a long-lost friend returning with many strange and fascinating tales.

  The couple moved from the kitchen and disappeared into the hallway. Smith crept along the side of the house, waiting for a light to turn on, but it never did.

  After a few minutes, he heard a thumping sound and followed the noise to the back of the house. He spotted a window and eased up to peer inside. A bedroom. The couple was having sex, the thumping caused by the headboard hitting the wall. Smith stood transfixed. The overhead light was off, but the hallway light remained on and he saw the woman in silhouette. In the top position, she moved rhythmically up and down, her breasts swaying heavily, her head tilted back, mouth slightly open.

  Smith reached into his pants. His dick swelled. He unzipped and stood below the window, his pants at half-mast, and watched the woman. He stroked to her movements and climaxed as she did. He came in the weeds along the foundation of the house and then leaned against it, gasping for air and feeling sick. His face flamed. He felt like a fool. She had done this to him.

  It would be good to have this finished, and considering the groundwork he had laid with the planting of the knife and the call to the sheriff, he might be able to pin the murders at the doorstep of the woman’s lover. The man was much too old for her anyway. It would be an easy case for the sheriff to make: a spurned older man kills the former boyfriend of his lover before also killing her. He composed himself, pulled up his pants, zipped, and crept toward home.

  16

  Shelby parked his Jeep in front of the Ellis house and sat looking at the old structure. It had only been a couple of months since he’d engaged in the firefight of his life, trading shots with the Ellises in a drug-fueled war over territory or, in Shelby’s case, survival. He thought of Mack, who had saved his life that day, and decided to give his friend a call once he got home.

  Shelby reflected it wasn’t long ago he wouldn’t have been able to get this close to the Ellis house without earning a bullet in the chest. Armed guards once patrolled the grounds. Now the only security in sight was an old dog chained to the porch. The animal looked up and sniffed but otherwise barely moved, even as Shelby got out of the Jeep and took a step toward the house.

  The front door swung open and a young man appeared. Despite the chilly weather, he wore jean shorts and an undershirt Shelby assumed had once been white. He stood on the porch and said nothing as Shelby approached.

  “My name’s Alexander.”

  The young man nodded.

  “You have a name?”

  “Jimmy. My name’s Jimmy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jimmy.”

  They stood, looking each other over. Jimmy was slight of build and appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties. He didn’t cut an imposing figure, but Shelby still felt a little unnerved as he stood there, with one foot on the step and the other on the ground.

  “You here alone?” Shelby said.

  Jimmy shook his head. “Nah. I got my granny inside. My pa is in town, but he’ll be back.”

  “You an Ellis, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy nodded.

  “I don’t remember hearing about you.”

  “We live in the U.P.”

  “What brings you down here into troll country?”

  The remark brought a smile to Jimmy’s face. “Pa’s been complainin about that. Trolls—you folks south of the bridge.”

  “You just visiting?”

  “Maybe. Pa don’t know. The downstate Ellises run into some trouble awhile back.”

  “So I heard.” Shelby smiled in return. “It’s strange hearing Serenity referred to as ‘downstate.’ To me, that means Detroit or Grand Rapids.”

  “We never had much truck with trolls. But Pa felt we should come down and take care of the place. Family, you know. And with Granny bein here alone and all.”

  “Do you know when your dad will return?”

  “Nah. He said later. But you can come in and have a beer if you want.”

  Shelby weighed the option. The young man seemed affable enough, but then he didn’t know Shelby had been instrumental in wiping out his family.

  Shelby nodded. “Sure, I’ll have a beer.”

  He climbed the rest of the steps. They went inside and Shelby looked around the main room as they entered. The bullet holes in the walls had been crudely patched, although the sofa bore scars where slugs had ripped through and killed Deputy Stevens, whose blood still stained the fabric. The broken windows had been mostly replaced, a necessity in cold weather. One smaller opening was covered with plastic and a square of plywood.

  “Looks like quite a fight took place here,” Shelby said.

  “Sure was.” Jimmy disappear
ed into the kitchen and reappeared moments later with an opened beer. “I ain’t talked to no one who was here at the time, but folks say it was somethin else. I sure woulda liked to seen it. I ain’t never been in a real gunfight.”

  “They’re not as great as the movies make them out to be.” Shelby sipped at his beer, struggling with how to proceed.

  “All the same. I kinda feel like I shoulda been here, ya know?”

  “Because of family?”

  A door slammed outside and Shelby glanced out the window. A beat-up Ford pickup had parked outside and a man approached the house loaded down with grocery bags. Shelby moved to the front door and held it open as the man climbed onto the porch.

  “Here,” Shelby said, “I’ve got the door.”

  The man looked up, saw Shelby, and nodded.

  “Thanks, whoever you are. These bags are mighty heavy.”

  The man’s reaction was not classic Ellis. A stranger surprising an Ellis in his own house could expect to stare down the barrel of a shotgun.

  The man walked into the kitchen and Shelby heard the grocery bags hit a surface, probably a tabletop.

  “I hear they got grocery delivery in some places downstate,” the man said. “That’s one thing I could go for these days.”

  “You mean more downstate, don’t ya, Pa?” Jimmy said.

  The man laughed. “Right, boy. I keep forgettin we ain’t to home.”

  Shelby cleared his throat and moved toward the kitchen. “Jimmy tells me you came down to look after the place.”

  “Yep. Family, you know. Mostly I stay up at the homestead. I don’t got much use for comin down here. But duty calls, as they say, and Ma needed the help. We’re thinkin of takin her back with us when we leave, but I don’t know if she’ll leave the place.”

  “How long are you planning to stay?”

  “Oh depends, depends.” The man emptied the bags and stacked the groceries on the table. “You a friend of the family down here?”

  “Not exactly. I knew a lot of them, though: Harper, Shepherd, Gannon.”

  “Then you must know Ma.” The man paused in his grocery stacking to call into the back of the house. “Ma! Come on out! You gotta friend out here!”

  Shelby heard a shuffling and an older woman appeared. At first, he didn’t recognize her, but then he realized it was the woman he and Mack had found chained in the basement—Mrs. Ellis. She looked vastly different. She had been cleaned and her hair washed and brushed. She still had the haunted look in her eyes, the look she would have for the rest of her life.

  “You know this man, Ma?”

  Shelby tensed. If she recognized him, it was all over. He would have had to tell his story eventually, but he’d wanted to tell it his way. There was no telling what Mrs. Ellis would say.

  The old woman looked at Shelby, her eyes squinting. She began shaking her head, then stopped and scowled.

  “That’s the man! That’s the man what broke my flashlight!”

  “Calm down, Ma. No one’s gonna hurt ya. Jimmy, take her back to the room and give her one of them pills the doc gave us.” The man turned to Shelby. “Ma’s a wee bit scatterbrained these days.”

  Jimmy gripped the old woman’s shoulders and steered her back the way she’d come.

  Shelby watched her go. “Is she all right?”

  “Naw. But she’s better. What’s this about a flashlight?”

  Shelby cleared his throat again. He set the beer on the table, in case he needed his hands free.

  “My friend and I found her in the basement. We were chained down there and I used your ma’s flashlight to snap a link.”

  The man stood still for a moment. Shelby could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “So you know about her bein kept down there. What did you say your name was?”

  “Alexander.”

  “Shelby Alexander?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you’re the one who ended it down here.”

  “It wasn’t only me. But I was involved in it.”

  “Well, I can’t say I’m happy about it. They was family. But I never did hold with what they was doin. It’s why I moved across the bridge years ago. Course, I didn’t know they was keepin Ma chained up like a dog. Otherwise, I’d have been down here long ago. I guess in a way I owe you a thanks.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. You’re in a tough spot.”

  “What brings you over this way now? Lookin things over?”

  “I guess you heard about the murders in town.”

  “I heard somethin. Big family, wasn’t it?”

  “The Blairs are well-known, yes. Pretty well off.”

  “No Ellis done it.”

  “That isn’t it. The sheriff thinks I had something to do with the murders. He found planted evidence at my place. I’ve been thinking about how it might have gotten there.”

  “What’s it got to do with us?”

  “The Ellis family has reason to resent me.”

  “And you think we planted evidence to get back at ya?”

  “That’s about the size of it.”

  “You can relax, Alexander. I weren’t no fan of my family. I didn’t stand in their way and wouldn’t rat em out, but I’ll be the first to admit they was low-down sons of bitches. I don’t endorse them bein killed, but the world’s probably better off without em. And that’s the God’s honest truth.” The man held out his hand. “Jim’s the name. You already met my boy, Jimmy.”

  Shelby shook the offered hand. “Seems like a fine boy.”

  “He is, he is. Honest, hard-workin, and a good deal smarter than he looks. Best thing I ever done, gettin outta here before he come along. This place woulda ruined him.”

  “And the boy’s mother?”

  “Died last year of the cancers.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “Started in her tit and went fuckin crazy. By the time we got her to a doc, it was too late. But she went peaceful and to home, like she wanted.”

  “Well, listen,” Shelby said. “I feel foolish now, coming out to bother you.”

  “Hell, I woulda thought the same as you. But you can rest easy about us. We don’t hold no ill will against you, Jimmy and me. I can’t speak for the other Ellises, of course, but you got nothin to worry about from us.”

  17

  Once home, Shelby kicked off his shoes and removed his outer clothes. Clad in t-shirt and boxers, he nuked a frozen dinner, got a beer from the refrigerator, and sat down in his recliner to watch the news.

  Hearing about Jimmy’s mother had affected him and brought Helen to mind. The thought of her dying had never occurred to him, although there had been times during their acrimonious divorce he would not have shed many tears had it happened. He felt badly for the young man. Leslie was thirty years old, but Shelby still thought of her as a little girl in pigtails, and the idea of his daughter losing her mother made him queasy.

  He muted the television and picked up his cellphone.

  Leslie answered on the first ring. “Hi, Dad. Is everything okay?”

  “Why do you assume something is wrong every time I call?”

  “Because you don’t call unless something is wrong.”

  “Not this time. Everything is fine.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Great, actually. I was thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet.”

  “And I talked to your mother.”

  Leslie shrieked into the phone. “You did? Oh, thank you, Daddy!”

  “Calm down,” Shelby said, although pleased by the reaction.

  “How did it go?”

  “Much better than it could have.”

  “What did you guys talk about?”

  “You.”

  “So tell me all about it!”

  “There’s not much to tell. I called her, we talked about the baby, we didn’t yell at each other…and then she called me ‘Bear.’”

/>   “Bear?”

  “You know. The nickname she used back before we hated each other.”

  “Really? Bear?”

  “Excuse me, the bear is a strong and noble creature.”

  Leslie snorted. “And she used it on the phone?”

  “She did. It was weird, because we haven’t spoken in a while and haven’t been cordial for even longer.”

  Leslie was silent.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Shelby asked.

  “It was probably only a slip on her part.” Leslie sounded a bit too airy. “Sometimes when couples are together, they use so many pet names that given names start to sound strange to them. Mom was likely nervous and fell back into an old habit.”

  “I’m still suspicious. There’s nothing I should know?”

  “I had an ultrasound today.”

  “And?”

  “And everything is fine! The baby is coming along perfectly so far.”

  “I don’t like those last two words.”

  “I’m trying not to jinx anything. Everything has been going so smoothly. I think this baby is going to be great for us.”