by J. L. Salter
“Don’t you ever try to shut me up again on camera!” She glared.
Somebody had to. But he kept quiet.
****
After Beth had stopped pondering the typescript of the Jones story, she resumed worrying about Ricks’s reappearance last evening. As she left the office slightly after five o’clock, she glanced in the rear view mirror and lightly touched the wound on her neck. “Once Shane gets here, Ricks won’t be a problem anymore.”
Then she remembered. Shane probably was here! And if he’d checked the voicemail she left, Shane was probably waiting in her driveway.
Suddenly she became extremely self-conscious. How do I look? She briefly wished she’d worn a skirt today. Then she figured: no, slacks were better. Her hands fiddled with her hair. She cupped her hand and exhaled. Ugh... need a breath mint!
“Well, too late now.” She clenched her jaw. “This is me, three years later. Shane can like it or lump it.”
And, when she reached the middle block of Netterville Street... there he was!
At least there was a Harley-Davidson—though definitely not Shane’s 1976 shovel head—parked close enough to the edge of the driveway that her Shadow could easily get by. But where was Shane’s Snickers Brown FXE Super Glide? And where was Shane?
She started to press the remote garage door opener and drive inside, but that would have had her going through the house and greeting Shane at her front door. Somehow that didn’t feel right. Like he was a vacuum cleaner salesman. And where was Shane anyhow?
She exited her car and walked around to the unfamiliar Harley... a Road King she’d never seen before. Her fingers trailed over the handlebars and then traced the seat. The tank was warm from the sun. She leaned over and sniffed the two-cylinder engine. Didn’t smell hot from running so it must have been there for a while. Bike was present... but where was its rider?
Then Beth saw a heavy leather boot on the shady side of the oak tree. Has to be Shane. She moved quietly around the other side and spotted him, leaning against the rugged trunk. Sound asleep... snoring.
What a welcome, after three long years.
Her chest had been tight with apprehension on the way home and she’d been nervous when she hadn’t spotted him right away. But now that Beth saw him sleeping against her tree, she was reminded of the teddy bear again. Her throat swelled and she thought she was about to cry... but instead, she just breathed shallowly and looked him over.
Shane might have added a few pounds... hard to tell in that position. His hair was shorter and he’d dropped the Fu Manchu. Instead, he had about three days of uniform stubble. It was a good look for him. He truly did resemble the actor Sam Elliott, but a beefier version. His leather jacket was folded behind his back and long shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The deep tan on his muscled arms had lightened a bit. Maybe he didn’t ride as much anymore. There was a new-looking helmet beside him.
When Beth leaned closer to listen to his snore, it stopped suddenly.
“Bethany... hi.” His grin looked crooked. “Must’ve dozed off. Sorry.” He struggled to get up. Not being fully awake, he stumbled a bit.
Beth hurried to his side to steady him and Shane’s heavy arm draped over her shoulders. “Welcome to Verdeville.”
His face moved closer as though he might kiss her.
Beth wasn’t sure that was a good idea, so she ducked under his arm and walked toward her front door. “When did you get in?”
Shane was obviously confused. He collected his jacket and helmet from the base of the tree and followed her. His eyes took in the Dodge. “Your car still looks real good.”
She just nodded. Her Shadow got the compliment, which meant she must look like last week’s garbage.
Shane stepped off the short walkway and examined the vehicle. His fingertips lightly stroked its front fender. Beth remembered that touch. And more. She was slightly jealous of her coupe.
“By the way, where’s your shovel head?”
“Still have it.” He looked toward the Road King. “But it doesn’t get out of town much. Too much hassle—tighten tank bolts and exhaust bolts... have to carry a hundred pounds of tools. Too slow and too iffy. This bike rides like a dream... eighty miles an hour on cruise. A lot kinder on my butt, too. It’s all good.”
“When did you start wearing protection?” She turned to unlock the front door with her key.
“Huh?” Then he grinned. “Oh, you mean this.” He held up the helmet. “About three years ago, I guess.”
“Right after—”
He nodded and looked down. He probably only kept his helmet for states which required it. Otherwise, it was usually goggles on the highway and sunglasses in town.
“Come on in. Not as spacious as your place in Long Beach, but it suits me.” She waved her arm slowly around the perimeter of the living space. “Like a drink... or something?”
He draped his jacket over the rocker and laid the helmet in the seat. “Nah. Well, maybe a sip of water.”
“Nothing but tap water, but I have sweet tea.”
“Sure. Thanks.” His eyes were on Beth now. “Nice place.” But he wasn’t looking at the room. “I’ve heard real estate’s cheaper here.” He seemed to be struggling for a comfortable topic. “You renting or buying?”
“Rent. It’s reasonable here.”
Shane spotted the bookcase and rubbed his hand over the chestnut wood. The wormholes gave it character.
Beth again remembered the touch of his hands and suddenly felt tingly. She tried to shake it off.
“What happened to your neck?” He pointed.
When she started telling him about last night’s assault, Beth cried again.
Shane moved closer and tried to comfort her. He’d never looked this self-conscious before. Never so clumsy, and never this tentative. First, an arm around her shoulder and then both arms around her.
But they felt odd... synthetic. These weren’t Shane’s real arms. They were the limbs of a stranger who felt uncomfortable because he didn’t know which scene this was in a movie he’d never viewed before. Beth understood because that was exactly how she felt: uneasy, uncertain. She wanted the comfort, needed it desperately, but she pushed him away... gently and slowly, but firmly.
Shane looked wounded. Similar to the look on his face the day she’d left. And he was obviously very confused.
So was she. Her heart pounded and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
He backed away awkwardly, inattentively sipped his tea, and sat at the kitchen table. Shane looked quite weary. “Where were you when Ricks, uh, accosted you?”
“I’d just left the grocery and needed gas... down by the Interstate.”
“Wonder how he found you there.”
“From something he said last night, I got the idea he’s been following me for days.” Beth shivered briefly and then sat at the table. “He still smells like garbage, too.”
Shane took another swallow.
“I didn’t know exactly when you’d hit town... so I have friends coming over this evening.” Beth wondered if he could discern which part was a fib. “I guess you could stick around if you want to...”
“No, I’m trying to find Ricks and I think he moves at night. Did he give you any hints about where he was staying?”
“Not a clue.”
“Did you happen to get a look at his vehicle last night?”
“Dark sedan... probably the same one from the mall. Maybe deep blue.” Beth shook her head and her eyes filled. “I didn’t even know anybody had driven up until he grabbed hold of me.”
Shane’s large hand covered her forearm.
She could feel heat from his touch. Beth wanted to look into his eyes, but was afraid of what she might find there. She struggled for a new topic. “Shane, did you remember that the Jones story was unfinished?”
“The hanging and the riverboat? What do you mean unfinished? I thought I’d read the whole thing.”
“Yeah, I know. I thought
that was the end too... until I saw it typed out. But my friend Jeff has studied it carefully and he’s certain there’s at least one page missing. Maybe more.”
“Jeff... again?”
“Already told you, Shane... he’s married.”
Shane was silent for several moments. “Hmm. Guess I don’t remember enough details from the story.”
“Jeff typed it up and sent it as an e-mail attachment. I could forward it to you.”
“I didn’t exactly have room in my saddle bags to bring a computer.”
“You could log on to your e-mail at the library.”
Shane frowned, but didn’t reply.
Beth felt ashamed that she was treating Shane like a stranger, but he was... in a sense. “Well, I could clear off a spot and let you read it here.”
He seemed relieved.
At the couch, Shane read her laptop text, but didn’t have his glasses so he squinted a lot and struggled to find the right distance from the screen.
Meanwhile, Beth busied herself in the kitchen and monitored him occasionally. More conflicting perceptions: Shane looked like he might belong here, but also seemed like a stranger she hadn’t seen in years.
After he finished reading, Shane joined her in the kitchen. He stood so close behind her that she couldn’t believe they weren’t already touching. If she turned in either direction, she would be in his arms. Beth felt that tightness in her chest again. After so long apart, her emotions were engaged in battle. Part of her wanted to jump his bones, but a portion warned her to remain aloof. She wanted to ask that governing portion, “Why?” But how could she make such a query with Shane hovering so near?
Beth already felt safer, from Ricks and whoever else, but somehow she also felt extremely vulnerable... to Shane’s presence. He had a way of melting her and she’d convinced herself she needed to remain frozen. Maybe Beth could have thawed if Shane had ridden those two thousand miles during the first year. But now? After all this time? No! Not until she was certain this visit was about more than protection, and more than Shane’s innate aggression. As she often did in moments of uneasiness, Beth steered back to a recent topic. “Do you think that hanging story is true?”
Shane shrugged. “The best stories are usually made up but there’s a kernel of truth somewhere. But sometimes true stories can be even stranger than fake ones.”
“My friends and I... we’re trying to figure out if it’s connected to Lynette.”
Shane looked directly into her eyes. “I don’t know if it’s the story…or something else about that old actress—but somebody wants something from that suitcase... and that’s the reason for all this hullabaloo.”
“That’s pretty much what Ricks said last night. But what could they possibly want?”
Shane just shook his head.
“And who are they? I mean, besides Ricks.”
“Ricks hasn’t got the brains of a caged laying hen.” Shane flexed his fist. “So this has to involve somebody who knows what they’re doing.”
“But who?”
“We likely won’t find out ‘til they’re ready to let us know.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evening
Beth closely monitored the person she wasn’t certain she knew any more.
Shane took a final look around the kitchen and living spaces of Beth’s cottage and seemed as though he wanted to poke his head in the bedroom. But he didn’t.
Beth wasn’t sure if he’d ever see that room. Or she was worried that if he entered, she wouldn’t let him out. And those conflicting notions continually played in her head.
He quietly lifted his jacket and gazed at the front door, though he didn’t move that direction yet.
“Where are you staying, Shane?”
“Uh, place down at Exit 233. Envie Motel. Named after the lake, I’m told.”
Beth chuckled. “Around here, it’s called Envy Motel.”
“Some jealous husband shoot somebody in there?”
She shrugged. “Just rumors. But I wouldn’t be surprised. There’s some nicer places on the east side of town... around Exit 242. Well, they’re newer, anyway.”
“But farther out of town...”
Beth nodded and briefly considered that he could bunk on her couch, but she did not feel comfortable enough to make the offer. Many possible scenarios and Beth was too unsure how they’d play out.
Shane’s eye movement suggested he’d also wondered about her couch. “Well, on the west end of town, I’m closer to where I’ve guessed Ricks might be burrowed. I need to neutralize him. Sooner the better.”
“Neutralize?”
“He’s attacked me and robbed me, followed you and cut you... and who knows what he would’ve done if that old couple hadn’t shown up.” Shane took a deep breath. “We need Ricks out of the way so we can concentrate on who hired him.”
“And why.”
Shane nodded and consulted his watch. “So what time are your friends coming over?”
“A few minutes.” When Beth touched his bare forearm she could see goose bumps. “I’d like to introduce you.”
“Maybe another day. This Ricks thing is like a real bad boil... and I’m itching to pop it.”
“Shane, don’t do anything... you know, don’t get in any trouble over Ricks. If you do find him, just haul him to the police station. Let them... take care of things.” She peered into his face. “You understand what I mean?”
He grabbed his helmet. “You don’t want me to kill him.”
She mulled over the zeal of her knight. “I meant, don’t hurt him so bad that you face charges. Just do what’s necessary... to get him to the station.” Beth patted his forearm. “No more. Okay?”
“I hear what you’re saying, Bethany. But a lot depends on Ricks... and when I find him. And what he’s done in the meantime.” He leaned over and pecked her cheek. Then Shane moved slowly through the door and down the walkway, swung a muscled leg over his motorcycle, and twisted the ignition key. The 1450 cc engine roared to life. Straddling, he walked it backward enough to turn around, and then took off.
With one hand covering the spot of his light kiss on her cheek, Beth’s other fingers wiped away tears. After three years, Shane was back... but already leaving. He was there looking for the man who’d attacked her. And, if he found Ricks, the result would be ugly. After that was over, where would their relationship be? Resumption of three years ago... or starting over? Or something in between?
About twenty minutes later, Jeff arrived in Tanya’s VW.
“Your car still in the shop?”
“It’ll take an act of congress to sort out the validity of my warranty. Until then, I can’t do anything but make the loan payments.”
“That totally stinks.” Beth motioned to the rocking chair. “Come on in.” She smiled. “So you didn’t want me at your house while Tanya crops with her mother?”
“Sometimes it’s perilous when her mom’s around. Speaking of danger, how’s that cut on your neck?” Jeff squinted but probably couldn’t see anything.
“It still stings, but I probably don’t even need this huge bandage. Not particularly deep. ‘Course, it scared me to death.”
“I can imagine.” Jeff’s Adam ’s apple rose and fell suddenly. “You mentioned Connie... is she here?” He looked around the room.
“She’s coming later. Had to stay late at the dealership.”
“Should we wait for her?”
“No, let’s get started. We need to solve this puzzle.”
“Well, I brought back the diary and the story, but I’m not actually through with them yet. I might need a few more days.”
Beth nodded.
“Did you find out anything from your ex?”
“Shane didn’t remember any missing pages. He thought it was supposed to end like that.”
“Um, speaking of Shane... didn’t you say he was the jealous killer type?” Jeff looked around the room again.
“Relax. He’s out hunting the
punk who’s been bothering me.”
“You seem pretty cavalier about it.”
“Shane’s here now... he won’t let anybody hurt me.”
A long pause. “Beth, your confidence is remarkable, but your boyfriend isn’t Superman... he can’t be everywhere and know everything.”
“You’re right.” When Beth got up to lock the front door, she saw Connie’s gleaming demo pull into the driveway behind the VW. With all three vehicles in her driveway, Connie’s tail stuck out. Of course, she did that herself sometimes, just to attract attention. Ha. “Go tell her to wait a minute and I’ll pull into the garage.”
Jeff extracted keys from his pocket. “Okay, I’ll scoot up, too.”
After all the vehicular movement, everyone was inside the living room.
“Well, I’m frankly disappointed,” said Connie as she shrugged off her jacket.
“About what?” Beth.
“Where’s your biker boyfriend?”
“He came by after work, but didn’t want to hang around here while Ricks is still out there.”
“Ricks being...”
“Oh.” Beth pointed to the bandage on her neck. “My stalker finally showed himself, and nearly cut my head off.” It was a slight exaggeration, for sympathy.
Connie rushed over and hugged her carefully. “Why didn’t you tell me, sweetie?” She drew back without breaking contact and searched her friend’s eyes.
Beth mumbled through an explanation but Connie wasn’t paying attention to her words anyway.
After they got settled again, Jeff asked a few questions about Shane. Frankly, Beth couldn’t remember how much she’d told Connie and how much Jeff already knew. So she briefed both of them about her ex-boyfriend and how he appeared to have changed, at least physically.
“Does your biker wear tight leathers and have tattoos all over?” Connie watched too many movies.
“Actually, he does have a couple of tattoos. One is the airborne patch just below his shoulder, of course. But the most distinctive is on his chest—a star inside a clock face... with only a second hand.”