"Page twenty-three is my favorite too," she said after sating her thirst.
Erin placed the tumbler back on the table, squarely in the middle of the napkin. She flushed when Gina's lips curved upward again.
"You're cute when you blush." Gina's eyes took in Erin's bandaged forearms and singed hair. "But that's not why you're here."
Erin shook her head silently.
"You want to know what I remember." Gina sighed and leaned back on the pillow. "The nurse said that your boys already came but I don't remember what I told them."
"Detective Williams is investigating the fire and the attempted mur—what was done to you." Erin paused for a second but Gina's eyes did not stray from hers. "I talked to him this morning and he said he came by to see you about three o-clock yesterday afternoon, after I'd already gone home. He took your statement but you weren't making much sense. He's going to come see you again later."
"I sort of remember weird stuff."
"Weird how?"
"The nurse said I was ranting about an evil troll stalking me." She held two fingers to her lips.
"Maybe it was the medication," Erin offered.
"Yeah, maybe it was the drugs, but I still feel creeped out, and a bit paranoid, because I felt like I was being watched that night too."
"After I left the Stop 'N Go, what do you remember about that night?"
"Your girlfriend is really cute." Gina tried to waggle an eyebrow under the bandages.
"Stay on task here."
"Fine. I remember being pissed about how Gunther treated me. Yeah, he's a piece of work, like me," she snorted, "but he wasn't really a bad guy. I already mentioned that he used to come in once in a while when I was closing up for the night. We would sit on lawn chairs behind the store, slap blackflies, and talk for hours. He told me all about fishing and hunting, but he didn't hunt much any more. He liked to go out and watch the animals. Any time of day or night, he knew where they were feeding, or where they bedded down. Sometimes I'd be putting out the garbage at the end of shift and I'd see him appear out of the bush across the road like a ghost. Then he'd see me and he'd get this goofy smile on his face. He'd come over and greet me like family." Gina motioned for the water and Erin passed it to her. She sucked through the straw before continuing.
"Anyway, after you left that night I remember doing the cleanup, washing the floors, restocking and facing all the shelves. That's when I got the heebie jeebies, like someone was watching me, but there was nobody around."
Erin nodded without interrupting.
"I went to the bathroom where I keep the supplies and I cleaned the mop in the utility sink. I remember grabbing the window cleaner because I wanted to get all the slimy handprints off the front glass doors but I don't remember actually cleaning them. There's like a gap in time there. Then I remember hallucinating about us laying outside together looking at the stars." Gina looked to Erin who neither confirmed nor denied.
"I dunno," Gina said finally. "It was a nice hallucination. Better than the troll. Anyway, the next thing I remember was when the nurses cut duct tape out of my hair in Hospital Emergency."
"Do you know who did this?" Erin asked her point blank.
Gina raised a hand to cover her trembling mouth. "I think I was closer to him than my own dad. I can't believe he would—"
"You think Gunther did this?"
"Don't you? He was so angry that I barely recognized him." Gina twisted her body under the wrinkled sheet. "Who else would it be? He's suddenly not the guy I know. If he's capable of this, what is happening to Lily?"
"Omigosh!" Erin bolted for the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"That was awesome coffee, Erin, but you can keep Princess FluffyPants here," Zimmerman said. "I prefer my pets quiet and much, much less—um fluffy." He slid his uniform coat off the back of the kitchen chair and bent to brush tufts of Persian hair from his trousers. After he'd finished, Wrong-Way Rachel made one more pass around his legs, depositing a fresh batch of fur. He exhaled loudly.
"Aw come on, Z-man. She's not so bad. She has ninja moves that would make you jealous." With one socked foot, Erin scooted Rachel away from his uniform. Was she really sticking up for that infernal cat?
"I promise I will keep looking until I find the kid. I've tapped all my sources and everyone is out looking, but nobody has seen hide nor hair of Gunther or Lily since the fire. I was out to his place today and there is no one around. His old truck is in the driveway but they are gone." Dodging the affectionate dog in the hallway, Zimmerman made his way to the front door, where his enormous boots stood side-by-side like two soldiers in the entrance. "I will check to see if his boat is missing. He might be out fishing and this is all a big misunderstanding." He jammed oversize feet into his boots and stepped onto the front porch.
"Yeah, a big misunderstanding. I hope you don't think he took her fishing so they can spend quality time together!" Erin said sharply.
"I was being facetious. You know me better than that. This whole thing stinks and I promise you that I am on it." He scratched at the back of his scalp with a hand commensurate in size with his humungous feet. Erin's nose wrinkled in amusement. He was like an overgrown puppy, all paws and angles, but immeasurably adorable, and she was as fond of him as a brother. "Almost forgot to tell you, Kathy wants you to call her when you are back."
"I'm going nuts, Z-man." Erin wheedled. "I need—"
"Sorry, but I have to side with Derek Peterson on this one. He's our Acting Sergeant right now and I know you think he's a jackass, but have you looked in the mirror lately? You truly are not ready to come back to work, SuperFairyNinjaPrincess—"
"You're overdoing it and it's not geeky cute anymore," Erin held up a stern finger to silence him and he stopped, surprised.
"RoboWonderGirl!" he finally blurted, chortling.
"That's it! I'm not wasting any more good coffee on you. From now on, you can drink that swill down at the station and call me on the phone." She frowned, and stood with hands on hips until his tone softened.
"Please, Erin, give it a little time. Besides, right now you can't hold a service weapon in that blistery paw of yours. I will find that old man and I will find the kid. In the meantime, I promise to tell you everything."
She backed off a half step and gave a curt nod.
"You're not going to accomplish anything dragging your sorry self around town." He turned to go but couldn't resist a parting shot. "Even Iggy the Iguana, rest his scaly soul, knew when it was time to hole up somewhere until he was done molting." Walking back to his cruiser, Zimmerman did a smug little hop when Erin's front door slammed.
* * *
The patrol car pulled away from the front of the house right before a black Mini Cooper zipped into the driveway. A large piece of cardboard was affixed to the roof with bright red plastic tape and the crack in the rear window had spidered all the way from one edge to the other. Allie exited and retrieved her computer case from the trunk.
"Honey, I'm home!" she called out, blustering through the door. The pets immediately love-mobbed her and she dropped her bag to snuggle both of them into her lap. "I missed you and yeah, I missed you too, pumpkin." The dog gazed at her with complete adoration and the cat crawled onto her shoulder to greet her with a cheerful chirrup.
"When you are done making goo-goo noises at the pets, I could use a hand in here," Erin called back.
Allie got to her feet and gathered her bags to join her in the kitchen, pets trotting happily behind her. She dropped her packages on the counter and stifled a laugh when she saw Erin. With one handful of wadded up gauze, and an unattended tube of antibiotic ointment oozing itself onto the table, Erin was clearly losing the struggle. Allie gently took the gauze from her and expertly rolled it up.
"This must be the wrong stuff! I can't believe it's the wrong stuff!"
"It works better if you roll it up first," Allie suggested, hiding her smile. "I told you I would help you when I got home. You need to be a little m
ore patient, hon." Erin meekly watched while she efficiently dressed her wounds and made sure the gauze was not too tight on raw blistered skin.
"This is driving me crazy!" Erin sounded whiney and stopped herself. "I'm sorry, this is difficult for me. I don't like being helpless. With everything bandaged, it's hard to do things. Even making coffee is a chore that takes forever! I'm trying but I'm not good at being useless."
"I rented us a movie."
"Is it subtitled?" Erin's tone bordered on petulance.
"No, it's in English, but I can't guarantee they won't use big words."
"Does it have the word triumphant in the reviews or on the cover?"
"Noooo," Allie responded, sarcastically dragging out the vowel.
"Does stuff get blown up? Does at least one person die?" Erin smiled.
"Yes, dozens I'm sure."
"Is there a parental warning on it?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to hate it, but you'll watch it anyway, to be with me?" Erin's eyes twinkled in merriment.
"Maybe," Allie said, kissing her cheek. "I'll make the popcorn."
* * *
Two hours later, Erin nudged her girlfriend's knee. Curled up on the other end of the sofa, wearing fleece pajamas with a kitty cat pattern, Allie looked as innocent and pure as a sleeping child. She could watch an agonizing three-hour foreign language drama with not so much as a blink, but always fell asleep during action movies. Brown hair tumbled around her shoulders and Erin wanted to smooth the errant locks with her fingers.
"The movie's over," she said in a soft voice. Allie woke with a start and sat straight up off the sofa.
"I know where she is!" Allie announced.
"Who? Lily?"
"She's at home. Right now! She is standing outside Gunther's workshop, shivering all alone in her little nightie."
"Did you dream this?" Erin met Allie's eyes. Then she rose to her feet and paced the living room floor purposefully.
"I don't know if I dreamt it. I just know." Allie said quietly. Erin noticed her change in body posture as she began to curl into herself.
"I believe you," she told her, more gently. "Let's go."
"Now?" Allie dubiously looked down at pajama clad legs.
"If she's there now, we need to go now," Erin said firmly. She flung open the front closet and gingerly pulled her denim jacket on, snapping her leather bag over one shoulder. The familiar weight of the pistol inside reassured her as the bag slapped against her ribs. Allie was right behind her, pajamas and all, pulling on a sweater and a pair of loafers.
At the sight of the little car in the driveway, with its cracked window, heat blistered paint, and cardboard covered sunroof, Erin stopped. She pursed her lips and appraised it for a moment before she fished her keys from her bag.
"Good idea," Allie said simply, without an accusatory tone. "It runs fine but it's pretty noisy, and I keep finding sharp bits of glass in the seat fabric."
Erin drove quickly and a little bit recklessly toward Gunther's place. The Toyota truck bounced over the uneven gravel road which narrowed to a single lane as they neared their destination. They rounded the final bend and, thanks to a pale wash of moonlight in the cloudless sky, the house became visible through the trees. Gunther's Ford truck was parked in front of the old clapboard bungalow which rested, dark and desolate, in a small clearing between the scrubby brush and the river. Tall grass grew up around a faded green fiberglass canoe and an aluminum fishing boat, which lay overturned against the side of the shed.
The door hung halfway open and Erin snapped to attention when a tiny spark of light emitted from within. She strained her eyes into the darkness, but the flash did not come again. At the last moment, she stomped the brake pedal. Tires bit gravel and the Tacoma came to a stop in the driveway behind Gunther's Ford. She twisted the key to shut the engine off, but kept the headlights on.
She sat immobile in her seat, looking at the dark shed and then the equally unlit house. Alarmed, Allie mimicked her, attention fixed on the shed. Perhaps the flicker of light Erin had seen was only a reflection of the moon in the window pane. Perhaps not. Two sharp metallic pings from the engine stirred her to make a decision. The shed first and then the house.
She leaned across and retrieved a Xenon Mini Mag flashlight from the glove box and motioned for Allie to wait in the truck. Quietly getting out, she swore there was a muted thud the same moment she closed her door. She stood still but could not locate its source. Cautiously approaching, she took a quick peek in Gunther's truck. A squashed beer can lay in the truck bed along with rocks, grass and organic debris. Inside the cab, crumpled pieces of paper and fast food containers littered the interior floor mats. There was nothing that piqued her interest, and she turned to the shed.
Ignoring her signal to stay in the truck, Allie exited and swung the door shut. The heavy clunk reverberated through still air. Erin winced at the careless noise and assumed a protective position. The sound of the truck approaching would certainly have been audible, but a slamming door seemed inappropriately loud. Her senses heightened. She instinctively transferred weight to the balls of her feet and stepped in front of Allie. If she insisted on coming, she must remain behind her. They reached the gaping wooden door and Erin directed Allie to the side. There was no need to make themselves targets, silhouetted against the entrance.
Erin took a couple of quick peeks around the doorjamb with the flashlight. Nothing moved so she shone the light inside. Empty. It was a basic rural outbuilding, like a million others in the county, constructed of uninsulated plywood with a bare electrical bulb hanging from the ceiling. She found the switch and flipped it on. Cheerless yellow light flooded the single room and she stepped lightly onto the old wooden floor. Brittle boards creaked so loudly Erin feared they might be heard as far away as the house.
Inside was a sturdy work bench and stool, carefully hung hand tools, basic shelving, a battered metal cabinet, and a preponderance of neglected and forgotten items. One wall held rows of hooks festooned with boat nets, spinning rods, a hand cranked ice auger and other assorted fishing equipment. Each item was arranged in a determinedly logical manner with random junk later piled underneath.
She noticed a pair of old beavertail snowshoes above the door, like another man might hang a lucky horseshoe. As she looked around the shed, it was apparent that Gunther had once taken pride in, and tended to the organization of his belongings. Somewhere along the way he had lost interest and now the shed had become a repository for unwanted household goods.
"This is so creepy." Allie stood in the doorway, mouth downturned and nose wrinkled in distaste. Erin followed her eyes to the white-tail deer head mount hanging on the wall. It had collected dust over the years, which dulled the tawny hair and dimmed the brightness of its glass eyes. Nonetheless, it still bore the mark of expert craftsmanship.
"Relax honey. It's only taxidermy," Erin said, although Allie was now avoiding looking at it. "Lots of old guys used to do it for a hobby when I was a kid." She spied the little refrigerator under the counter and opened the door. A six-pack of Budweiser took up the middle shelf, a half loaf of bread and a stack of plastic wrapped cheese slices below. The shed was apparently not as abandoned as it first appeared.
"I'm sure it was different for people who grew up in urban centers," Erin told her. Auntie Vicky might have said tree huggers. "Taxidermy was common around here, it's part of the fabric of the country. My dad still has a set of moose antlers hanging in the garage."
Allie took a small step and placed the toes of her shoes onto the wooden floorboards of the shed where she stopped, rooted to the spot. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. Moisture misted her eyes but she did not move further in, nor did she back out. "It feels creepy in here. Creepy and angry. Like the whole place is covered by a dark smelly blanket and I don't want to be here."
Tears streaming down her face, Allie turned and bolted out the door. She kept up a brisk walk until her sweater and fleece pajamas were starkl
y illuminated by the truck's headlamps in the middle of the graveled driveway. In the harsh light, Erin could see her bend and place her hands on her thighs, panting.
Erin caught up to her and rubbed a hand across her back. "Are you ok?" For the first time, she realized that she had not given Allie time to change from her kitty cat pajamas.
"In my dream, I saw her standing there." Allie pointed her index finger toward a spot halfway between the house and the shed. "Right there." She paused until Erin prodded her to continue. "She was wearing a light blue nightie and she was alone." She stopped and clutched at her temple. "I feel a bit sick and I'm getting a headache. I'm going to wait in the truck."
"You stay there while I go check the house." Erin had barely started off toward the house when there was a tiny skittering noise beside the shed. She froze mid-step and waited. There it was again. Could Lily be afraid and hiding? She stepped carefully so as not to make a sound and homed in on the origin of the noise. The overturned fiberglass canoe. She crept up and, with one hand on the canoe's gunwale and the other holding the flashlight, she flipped it upright in one swift movement.
A panicked flash of white escaped, startling Erin backward. She righted herself in time to watch it thrash an erratic path through the tall grass and into the denser underbrush of the riverbank. She almost laughed out loud in relief and embarrassment. It was nothing more than a frightened jackrabbit. Lifting one end of the lightweight aluminum fishing boat, she peered underneath that as well. There were no other creatures in residence. She returned both boats to their original positions.
Satisfied, she continued to the house where everything was locked up tight. She shone her powerful flashlight through the windows and all appeared perfectly normal. Nothing moved in the yard. With no valid reason to break and enter, she climbed back into her truck.
Just Intuition Page 11