Jason Deas - Benny James 03 - Brushed Away

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Jason Deas - Benny James 03 - Brushed Away Page 11

by Jason Deas


  Back outside, Uncle Karl was up and didn’t remember anything of the confrontation he had earlier with Benny. Blood still flowed from his nose. Benny walked toward him and put a wet washcloth from the house to his nose. He didn’t seem to remember having the previous battle with Benny and let him take him into his care.

  “For taking care to me I give you one thousand tomatoes.”

  Nina seemed to have snapped out of it and looked to Benny for answers.

  “He’s Red,” Benny whispered to her.

  “Bendy, me not liking this blood.”

  “I know, buddy. It will be gone in just a few more minutes. Can you hold this on your nose?”

  “Me can.”

  “Thanks. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.”

  Uncle Karl sat in the bean bag chair on the floor and Benny motioned with his head for the girls to follow him outside.

  Angel asked, “What the hell was going on in there?” It looked like you were going to kill him!”

  “It wasn’t what it looked like. When I got here he was acting like me and he confronted me and attacked.”

  “He’s getting worse,” Nina said. “He seems to be switching more often now than he ever has. When it started he was switching every few weeks. Now he seems to switch every few days.”

  “Has he been taking his meds?” Benny asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nina confessed. “Ever since the first murder happened I haven’t slept well. And now that I have a real opportunity to make some money with this interest in Tilley’s local art, all I do is work in the studio.”

  “Is that why you’re making the piece I saw on the floor with the numbers? Trying to capitalize on the ones from the murder scenes?”

  “Yes, and I’m not ashamed to say it either.” Nina’s face began turning red and her breathing quickened. “You’ve been in the house. You’ve seen what a disgrace it is—maybe I could make enough to get a new roof. Maybe I could make enough to fix up a room or two and at least begin to repair the last thing my family owns. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a painting to finish.” Nina stomped back into the house.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Angel said.

  “I probably deserved it. I beat up your Uncle and put your mother on my list of murder suspects.”

  Angel laughed. “I guess you do deserve it. I’ve actually been in charge of making sure Uncle Karl takes his medications. You have to trick him into taking them. I tried getting the ice cream truck driver to put it in his ice cream every day, but I don’t think he understood what I was asking. He just kept talking about a Camero and asking for my phone number.”

  “Yeah, I spoke to him earlier and I don’t think he would be able to handle that.”

  Uncle Karl came out the studio door and handed Angel the bloodied washcloth. “Must have spilled some red paint,” he said, handing it to Angel.

  “You must have.”

  “I think I’m getting a headache.” He rubbed his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

  “Do you want me to get you something for that?”

  “Oh no. I know your tricks. You’ll pretend it’s headache medicine and it’ll really be that medicine Dr. Walton wants me to take.”

  “And tell me again why you don’t like to take it?”

  “It takes away my creativity.”

  Benny tried to hide his laugh, but his cheeks puffed and gave him away.

  “What?” Uncle Karl asked. “An artist lives through his creativity.”

  “I think you would be extremely creative either way,” Benny said. “But let’s get to what I came here for and I’ll be on my way.”

  Angel started to turn to go into the house.

  “Angel,” Benny called. “I’d like to ask you too if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. I probably should check on Mother in a minute.”

  “Of course. But while you’re here, what do you know about Erick Frederickson?”

  “Little E?” Angel asked.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “I’ve heard lots about him, but I’ve never met him. Growing up in Tilley it would be hard not to have heard some of the stories about him. It’s been a while since I heard one though.”

  “Thanks, Angel. Why don’t you go check on your mother now.”

  Angel turned to go and stopped. “Do you think you could just forget about her little outburst? I still think the two of you might hit it off under different circumstances.”

  “Sure,” Benny said. “Consider it already forgotten.”

  Benny turned his attention to Uncle Karl and immediately noticed fear in his eyes.

  “Is he coming back? I don’t have any money. I don’t. I swear I don’t.”

  “He’s not coming back. He’s dead.”

  Benny tried to gauge Uncle Karl’s reaction.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Benny saw relief.

  “Why don’t we go inside the studio and let me ride that horse of yours again and you can tell me all about him.”

  “OK. Can I wear the cowboy hat, though?”

  “I guess so.”

  Chapter 16

  Benny’s houseboat looked as though it had been decorated like the most luxurious of homes. Nothing about it besides the slight swaying said boat. Even before he sold his house to Red, when he claimed he only used the houseboat as his office, the designer bed and his favorite pillow told a different story.

  Benny tossed his keys on the kitchen island and pulled open one of the doors on the giant fridge. He smiled as he remembered one of the first times Rachael had been on the boat. She had puzzled over how large the refrigerator was and how he’d managed to get it through the door. He looked up at the skylight he had installed after the hole had been cut in the roof to drop in the giant cooler. He tried to forget the thought and grabbed a beer.

  With one tilt he finished half the bottle and breathed out a sigh consisting of four stressful days. Once again he was back in the game he came to Tilley to disappear from—and he liked it. Faces and names and places swam around his brain as he tried to put all the pieces together. Benny felt the tingle, the rush, and he rolled his neck as the tension popped and cracked.

  Benny spied the answering machine and noticed the flashing red light, signaling a new message. His heart hoped it would be Rachael, but his mind told him it wasn’t. She was gone.

  And he was wrong. It was her.

  “Benny,” she began, “I made the biggest mistake of my life leaving you. I may have made the second biggest mistake of my life by quitting my job this morning, but I did. I’m coming home on the next flight and I’m going to beg you to take me back. If you don’t, I’ll understand, but at least I’ll have tried.” She started crying and hung up.

  Benny hadn’t moved since the first whisper of her voice. In disbelief he reached out his hand and pushed the play button again. This time as he listened, he laughed and danced in place.

  When the message ended he flew out the door and up the dock toward the office to tell Donny. He needed to celebrate and knew Donny would be just the one to feel his elation.

  Benny busted in the door. Donny had his head in the bait refrigerator counting worms.

  “She’s coming home!” Benny screamed.

  Donny popped up and smacked his head on the top of the fridge.

  “What? Tell me you ain’t kidding?”

  “She quit. Rachael’s coming home!”

  Donny screamed like he had just won the largest lottery jackpot in state history. “She loves us! She loves us!” Donny began a happy dance the likes of which Benny had never seen. Benny began a dance of his own as Donny came around the counter still dancing and jumped into Benny’s arms. Tears poured from Donny’s eyes as he trembled and Benny just laughed and laughed.

  “That’s what happens when you come to this town,” Donny said rubbing the top of his head. “You can’t forget us. We crawl right up under your skin and stay whether we’re wanted or not
.”

  Benny shook his head and said, “You think she might be coming back for me?”

  Donny looked perplexed. He scratched his head as though he were deep in thought. Finally he began bobbing his head up and down as he said, “Maybe.”

  “I’m going back to the boat and I’m going to try to call her back.”

  “Tell her I said to hurry.”

  “I will.”

  As Benny emerged from the office the evening looked different. The setting sun had more colors than before. The air smelled sweeter, and felt warmer. There was a buzz in the air that had not been there before. He felt like a school boy, in love for the first time.

  As he neared his houseboat he noticed the door was open. He didn’t remember leaving it open but didn’t remember closing it either. He noticed a speedboat travelling faster than allowed out of the marina and he knew something was wrong.

  Picking up a wooden oar from the dock, he inched toward his boat and listened. Aside from the motorboat speeding off into the distance, there weren’t any other sounds. Peeking his head into the doorway of his home, Benny didn’t immediately notice anything awry. The door to his bedroom was closed, and he knew for a fact he always left the door open to let air circulate. Carefully, he opened the bedroom door, readied with the oar to strike. He at least expected to find another piece of twisted art. Nothing. He checked the bathroom. Nothing. The closets. Nothing. And even strange places like inside the fridge and oven. Nothing.

  Taking the oar back outside and putting it back where he found it, Benny decided it must have just been his overexcited imagination. He decided he had left the door to the houseboat open and for some reason shut the door to his bedroom. And the boat speeding away, ignoring the no wake rule, was just a coincidence.

  Benny’s thoughts slipped back to Rachael and he picked up the phone to tell Vernon the good news.

  “Why don’t I come by for a quick beer to celebrate?” Vernon suggested. “I’m just around the corner.”

  “Sounds good. That’ll give me a chance to tell you about my visit to the Oglethorpe place today.”

  A few minutes later Vernon arrived and the two men clinked glass beer bottles together.

  “She couldn’t live without you, huh?”

  “She sounded pretty homesick. I hope she doesn’t regret her decision and in the end regret me.”

  “Nah. She’s a smart girl. Maybe she made one bad decision, but I don’t see her making two in a row. She knows what she’s doing.”

  “I certainly hope so. Do you want to go up on the top deck and talk?”

  “You inviting me to watch the sunset with you?” Vernon teased. “Gotta practice your romantic moves with lover girl on her way home.”

  “Very funny. If you’re lucky I won’t throw you off.”

  Benny led the way out the back sliding door and up the stairwell to the top deck. The sun had just slipped behind what looked like a small mountain of pines. Orange glowed atop the pines and hugged the water curling around the cove. It changed with every blink of the eye and for a moment the two were silent.

  “I hear the sun rising is just as pretty,” Benny said.

  “Don’t see that one too often, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  “I see why you like it out here so much, though. The ripples on the water don’t even look real. Some are going that way and others are going that way and somehow it all seems to be in synch.”

  “It never gets old. That’s for sure.”

  “Tell me about the Oglethorpe’s.”

  “Well, it all started today at Red’s place. I woke up almost early enough to catch the sunrise. I was worrying. I called Red because he somehow always makes me feel better no matter what is going on. He told me Uncle Karl had someone coming by who talked funny.”

  “As in stutters?”

  “You guessed it. I stopped by the station to pick up a picture of Little E to show Red, but Officer Mandelino was the only person there. I actually tried to call you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I actually slept in. Walking around last night kept me up until three or so.”

  “I showed Red the photo and he says it’s the guy who’s been coming by and asking Uncle Karl for money.”

  “Oh, damn,” Vernon said. “This is all making my head hurt.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Benny ran down below to get two more beers and proceeded to tell Vernon about Uncle Karl pretending to be him and then Red, and then turning back into himself again.

  “So what did he say when you got him alone again?”

  “It wasn’t really what he said. It was what he did that blew my mind.”

  “Which was?” Vernon coaxed.

  “So there I was rocking back and forth on a wooden rocking horse, talking to a man in a cowboy hat sitting in a purple bean bag chair.”

  “Quite a picture.”

  “I don’t know where the idea came from, but I pointed my hand at him like it was a gun and told him that I challenged him to a duel.”

  “You did what?”

  “A painting duel. He accepted and got out two fresh canvases. Mine took me about forty-five minutes and his took six hours. He won.” Benny took a deep pull from his bottle of beer. “Remember when I told you that Nina told me Uncle Karl really couldn’t paint? That he was just pretending to be an artist?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He can paint. He painted one of the best, most extraordinary pictures that I have ever seen. It had layers upon layers of paint. It was as though he would paint an entire picture and then paint another one on top of it. When I was finished with mine I sat back in the purple bean bag chair and watched in absolute amazement the entire time. In the six hours that I watched, at no point was I bored or wished that he would hurry up and finish. It was a show like I have never seen and I’ll remember it my entire life.”

  “Now my head hurts even more. Why would Nina tell you that he can’t paint?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t know. Maybe she didn’t want us to know for some reason. I really have no idea.”

  “What’s that shining in the water?” Vernon asked.

  “Probably the moon.”

  Vernon peered over the side of the boat and studied the lake.

  “No, it’s an inner tube you got tied to the back of your boat. Is that really where you were all day, floating around on your inner tube?”

  “I don’t own an inner tube,” Benny protested.

  “Well, then explain to me why a man who doesn’t own an inner tube has one tied up to the back of his houseboat?”

  Benny’s mind reeled to earlier when he had thought someone had intruded into his space. He immediately knew the two were connected.

  “Let me get my flashlight,” Benny said rushing below. “Don’t touch it in case it’s rigged.”

  Benny flew down the steps and was back up before Vernon could even collect his thoughts.

  “Shine it on what you saw,” Benny said, handing the flashlight to Vernon.

  Vernon pointed the light on the floating inner tube and said, “There it is.”

  Both men looked below and saw a painting sitting snugly inside a black inner tube.

  “I’ll be damned,” Benny said.

  “I don’t think it’s booby trapped. Let’s go get it.”

  “OK.” He felt duped for not looking around the outside of the boat after he felt invaded. He was glad that his senses were still intact, but felt let down by his lack of thoroughness.

  Benny and Vernon made their way to the back of the boat. Vernon held the light above his head, shining it down on the water below, and Benny shuffled close behind him. Once at the stern, they could clearly see where the line was tied to the boat, which was holding the inner tube. Benny leaned over and grabbed it, and began pulling it toward him.

  Once the inner tube was near, Vernon yelled, “Stop!”

  Benny stopped pulling the line and Vernon inspected it carefully. He passe
d the beam over every inch of the floating tube.

  “Pull it all the way in,” he said, when he felt sure there was nothing that would explode or harm them in any way.

  Vernon pulled two pairs of examination gloves out of his jacket pocket and handed one pair to Benny. He gently lifted the painting out of the inner tube and passed it to Benny. Bending over, Vernon grabbed the inner tube and pulled it out of the water and set it on the deck.

  “Maybe we can get some prints off the tube,” Vernon said.

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. Let’s go inside and take a look at this painting.”

  Vernon followed Benny inside. Benny propped the painting on the counter and leaned it against the kitchen cabinets. He stepped back.

  “No numbers,” Benny said.

  “This one is definitely different. Beautiful, really.”

  The painting was of a ballerina. She was on point, with one leg and both arms stretched out. Her head was pointed up toward an unseen light source, and her eyes were shut. She looked as though she was lost in her dance. The background was a blur of pinks and baby blues. There were no numbers on the canvas.

  “That is amazing,” Benny agreed. “Maybe there are numbers on the back.”

  He reached over and turned the painting around to find a single word written. It read, “Multiply.”

  “Multiply?” Benny said, turning the painting around again and stepping back. “Multiply what?”

  “Multiply ballerinas?” Vernon tried.

  “What about tutus? Ballerinas wear tutus. Could be two, twos which would be four?”

  “But he’s already used the number four. Tricky bastard. I figure he thinks we’ll see the ballerina’s tutu and make the connection and think four. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re right. We can keep it as our backup, but I think the number four is a wild goose chase this time.”

  “Then multiply what?” Vernon said aloud.

  “Let’s try something that I used to do with one of my old partners. For two minutes you’ll think out loud and I’ll listen. I won’t be trying to figure this out at all—I’ll just be listening, and then we’ll switch roles.”

 

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