Hailey's Hog

by Andrew Draper

  “You’re kidding, right?” the bartender said mockingly, picking up another glass. “The only security around here is me… and the Glock under the counter.”

  Mendoza hurled a curse in Spanish, a language in which Smith was fluent.

  “You can say that again.” Smith replied, sighing.

  After questioning the waitress and the cook, Smith and Mendoza were no further along than before.

  Mendoza cursed again. “This woman’s a dammed ghost,” he opined. “Nobody saw her, nobody remembers her.”

  Smith nodded in agreement. “A ghost…with 50 cards left in the deck.”

  Part Three…The noose tightens

  Chapter Fifteen

  Looking over her shoulder as she ran, her heart pounded in mounting terror as the glowing eyes emerged from the blue-black darkness. The giant red beast trailed her through the desert, throwing back its huge horned head and bellowing a deafening roar of rage and impatience.

  Crashing through the underbrush, her legs burned with exertion as she fled into the night, fueled by a blinding terror searing her every nerve ending. Branches slapped at her face and arms, cutting her skin like a thousand shards of glass as the fear drove her forward toward a clearing in the brush.

  The army of tall green trolls stood in precise formation, guarding the trail, their raised arms blocking the way to safety. Reaching for her, their spines stretched to jagged blades as she approached. Mind aflame with panic, she screamed as they lunged, capturing her as she dodged and parried, trying to run the lethal gauntlet.

  Twisting and contorting in an ill-fated escape attempt, the pain exploded in her helpless limbs as the needles found their targets, holding her fast. She stared frozen in horror as several tines wiggled fiendishly, digging deeper into her soft flesh before striking bone. Losing feeling in her legs, she sagged, now supported only by the dozens of foot-long thorns piercing her body. Overriding the pain, hot panic flooded her mind as the beast approached. Renewing her struggle to get free, she heard the sharp, metallic clicking of its claws, the fetid stench of its crab-like body burning her nostrils.

  Her scream shattered the silence, splitting the air and bouncing off the walls of her bedroom.

  Hailey’s eyes fluttered open and the bed continued to spin. Heart racing, she took several deep breaths. Phew, what a nightmare!

  The thunder throbbing at her temples matched the sharp stabbing pains radiating from her hip, the biting trail winding past her shoulder to her head.

  She stole a glance at the clock on the nightstand. Four o’clock...in the afternoon? Holy Shit!

  She rolled onto her back, the action causing her stomach to clench, telegraphing it’s displeasure to her brain with startling clarity. She swallowed dryly, her mouth still clogged with the unpleasant grit left behind by one too many cocktails.

  Note to self; stay away from hard liquor. Beer only, from now on.

  Gingerly climbing out of bed, she began to strip off last night’s clothes, the rank odor of stale tobacco assaulting her senses.

  She padded to the shower and stepped inside, her tortured muscles absorbing the water’s soothing heat.

  Washing off the stink of the bar, she thought about the events of the previous night as the soap bubbles ran in rivulets down her face before trailing the length of her body. She absent-mindedly watched them swirl around her feet before they disappeared down the drain. She stood under the spray and let the heat and steam soak in, working their magic.

  The ride home from Black Canyon City began drifting back in random, disconnected fragments. She remembered it was after two a.m. when she entered her apartment, dehydrated from the ride and suffering from physical injury and mental exhaustion.

  “I can’t believe I drove that far after drinking that much! She chastised herself. I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself…or someone else.

  As the clouds of steam circled her head, she began to slowly piece together the events following the encounter with Stone at the park. She recalled making her way back down the trail to the cafe, stunned and disoriented. As the shower flowed, the scene at the bar replayed in her mind, returning in full color. She remembered going into the ladies room to clean herself up, shock and pain making the trek nearly insurmountable. Once behind the locked door, she looked in the mirror and saw the already-darkening bruise on her cheek. She washed the dirt off her face and brushed her clothes clean, now ready to face the world outside.

  She moved through the bar in silence, tremors of fright still skittering across her body. She took a small table on the outdoor patio, away from prying eyes, and ordered a drink to settle her frazzled nerves. She accepted the glass with unsteady hands and moved it to her mouth, the whiskey stinging her tongue before burning a trail to her stomach. As she felt the alcohol spread out into her bloodstream, she hoped it would both deaden the pain in her body and quiet her tortured mind. Downing the drink, she ordered another from the passing waitress, desperately trying to drive the revolting images of the battle from her memory.

  “You okay?” The waitress had asked as she wrote the order on a napkin.

  “I’m fine,” Hailey answered. “Had a fight with my boyfriend, that’s all.”

  The waitress threw her a disbelieving look before going back to the bar to fill her order. The rest of the evening blurred into a chemical-induced haze as the additional cocktails took affect.

  Coming back to the present, she turned off the shower tap, the comforting flow having now gone cold. Exiting the steamy chamber, she toweled off her curvy body before starting on her waist-length hair. The throbbing in her head had spread to her entire body, the incendiary pain a combination of the fight with Stone and the midnight ride back up the mountain. She gasped in incredulity, examining the dark purple bruise on her cheek in the steam-fogged mirror. Bastard!

  Trying to cover the damage to her cheek with an extra application of concealer and make-up, she looked in the obscured glass and berated herself for losing control with Stone. She wanted to get the other names, but her blind rage stepped in and slammed that door with an astonishing strength that surprised even her.

  To call me a…that awful name…after he raped me! The son of a bitch deserved what he got.

  She suppressed a transient gag reflex as the picture of Stone’s disintegrating head flashed before her eyes. She swallowed firmly, pushing her rebellious stomach back where it belonged.

  For an instant a moral debate flared within her, fleeting yet commanding attention. Of course she believed killing was wrong, but she also could never forget how those four disgusting perverts forced themselves on her in that alley. What I did wasn’t murder, it was justice!

  While tentatively confident in her righteous crusade, she also wondered, however momentarily, if she wasn’t trying to justify yet another senseless act of violence, even if it was one she herself perpetrated. Am I really any better than them? Another brick silently clicked into place in her emotional wall as she pushed the unwelcome notion aside. Even if I didn’t…if I hadn’t…If I hadn’t shot him, nothing could ever make up for what they did to me.

  She searched herself and suddenly realized she felt no real remorse for what she had done. They started this, I’m just ending it. An eye for an eye, isn’t that the old adage? That introspective revelation of her darker side scared her almost as much as the monsters themselves. She scrubbed her face in her hands, the monumental hangover still tormenting her. Another thought suddenly entered her disconcerted mind, pushing its way in with strength and determination. What would Greg think? His face floating in front of her mental vision, she wanted so much to ask him if she was doing the right thing by confronting these dangerous, evil men.

  Take back your life, he’d said. Well, I hope I didn’t just throw it way completely.

  The ring tone of her cell phone suddenly blared to life, interrupting her troubled musings.

  She looked at the display and noticed the name on the caller I.D. belonged to her friend.

  “Hey Je
nna, What’s up?” she said, still groggy, the words clipped with pain.

  “Mandy and I thought we’d get you out of the house for the night. Interested?”

  “Not really. I’m not feeling too well.” She said.

  “Is this the ‘I’ve got cramps’ kind of not feeling too well or the ‘I just don’t want to go out’ kind?” Her friend asked.

  Hailey didn’t respond.

  Hailey’s best friends, Jenna Monroe and Mandy Jansen were as different from her as they could be.

  Amanda “Mandy” Jansen had been Hailey’s friend since moving next door when they were six and seven years old respectively. They even shared the same teacher in the second grade. Mandy, a lithe brunette, was a classic ‘Plain Jane’ girl, while very cute, she was not prone to extremes of dress or behavior.

  Mandy was one of the few people Hailey told about the attack. She did her best to understand, but lacked any kind of frame of reference for Hailey’s continuing emotional distress.

  Jenna, on the other hand, was 5-feet, 11-inches of blond-haired, blue-eyed “girl power”. With her looks and personality she was a force-5 tornado of energy and sex appeal. A party girl since the age of fifteen, Jenna turned twenty-one two months ago and could now legally drink. She enjoyed exercising that privilege at every opportunity. The stunning young woman reveled in the attention her center-fold looks drew from men everywhere she went. Jenna believed that every woman craved the same constant male attention she did.

  She doesn’t get it. Hailey thought. I don’t want to be the center of attention. Hailey also knew Jenn’s promiscuity and artificial confidence were merely overcompensation for her absentee father’s blatant disinterest in her life.

  “It’s been a hundred years since we went out,” Jenna said. “We’re not taking no for an answer. You won’t become a nun on my watch.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Jenna still didn’t consciously understand the attack’s affect on Hailey. The outwardly confident Jenna couldn’t believe Hailey would rather stay away from strangers, especially young men, as she insisted.

  “Come on, we’ll have some fun. You do remember fun don’t you?”

  “Bite me!”

  “Don’t be mean!”

  “I’m not being mean. I’m just not really up for one of your bar-hopping excursions tonight, that’s all,” Hailey replied. “They always end up the same; you get a zillion guys and I end up sitting alone at the table watching them feel you up on the dance floor. No, thanks. Besides, I don’t want to get carded. It’s embarrassing.”

  “I know the bouncer at the The Rat’s Nest, he can get you in,” she said. “They’re having the hot rod show today. Should be plenty of prime beef walking around.”

  She franticly searched her troubled mind for a way to dissuade her friend from insisting on a night out she didn’t want. Can’t she understand? I don’t want to go back there.

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” she said, the excuse sounding lame the instant it passed her lips.

  Undaunted, Jenna pressed on. “We’ll bring everything. You need a makeover anyway,” Jenna insisted. “It’s time you stopped dressing like some dowdy school teacher.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the way I dress,” Hailey replied defensively. “I think my clothes suit my style.”

  “Yes. The style that says ‘I still want to be single when I’m fifty’,” she said. “We’re coming. Someone’s got to save you from becoming a fashion train wreck.”

  “Love you too!” Hailey launched back.

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Bye!”

  She snapped her phone shut.

  Going to the kitchen, she chugged a bottle of water, hoping for some relief from the self-induced damage of her recent alcohol abuse. The thought of going out clubbing still struck a terrible cord in her mind. She burned with the memory of the time she went clubbing and it had all gone so horribly wrong, changing her life forever. How could they have left me at the bar? They’re supposed to be my friends. She thought, her momentary anger dispelled by the reality she reluctantly accepted. How could I have been so stupid as to leave without a ride?

  She was just about to call and cancel when there was a knock at the door. She opened it and Jenna burst through in a whirlwind of excited chatter and expensive perfume, Mandy close behind. The jubilant pair didn’t even stop in the front room, but moved directly to Hailey’s bedroom.

  “I brought you a dress for tonight. You’ll look awesome in this,” Jenna said, pulling a red silk dress from a garment bag she hung on the bedroom door. “Go put it on.”

  HH ipHailey In the bathroom, Hailey stepped into the dress and slid her arms through the spaghetti straps. The backless number tightly hugged her body, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves like fresh paint. She gasped at her reflection in the full-length mirror fastened to the back of the door. Oh, my God! She did a double take. This dress makes me look like I’m naked.

  “Come on guys,” she walked to the other room, hands trying to pull the hem down in a vain attempt to cover her upper thighs. “I can’t wear this.”

  Failing to cover more of her legs, she noted the plunging neckline ended squarely between her full breasts. “I look like a porn star. I’m taking it off.”

  “Don’t you dare! You look beautiful.” Jenna said pulling open a drawer and rummaging through Hailey’s dresser, locating a pair of black stockings, the tops trimmed in a wide band of red lace.

  “I’m all boobs in this dress. I don’t want to spend the night with people talking to my chest.” She adjusted her breasts inside the dress in a vain attempt to minimize the cleavage.

  “I’d like to have half of what you have upstairs.” Mandy said from her spot sitting on Hailey’s bed, idly twisting her hair around her finger.

  “Are you talking about my brains or my boobs?”

  “Both.” She said, causing laughter to burst from all three women.

  Hailey watched herself revolve in the mirror on the bedroom door. “You really think this looks alright?” she smoothed the front of the dress down and turned back to her friends. “Not too slutty?”

  Mandy met her friend’s eyes, blue orbs reflected in the glass. “Are you kidding? I’d kill to look as good as you.”

  Jenna gave Hailey an appraising look from head to toe. “Just the right amount of slutty, I’d say,” Jenna commented in mock seriousness. “Provocative, yet pornographic.”

  Hailey looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Thanks…I think.”

  This time they all laughed.

  Jenna went to the garment bag and removed a pair of matching open-toed shoes with four-inch heels, dropping them on the floor before Hailey. “Really, you look great. You’ll have them drooling in the aisles.”

  “Just what I need, aisle drool.” She smirked.

  “Come on! Don’t be such an old lady,” Mandy said, “It will be fun. Besides, you really do look fantastic.”

  “If you think it really looks okay…alright I’ll go,” she said, still tugging at the hem of the dress. She continued, eyeing Jenna dubiously. “But we stay together, no random hook-ups, okay?”

  Both women nodded in understanding.

  “I’ll drive.” Jenna said.

  “Remember, we all leave together, no excuses.” Hailey repeated.

  Her friends nodded again in agreement. “We promise.”

  Spirits lifting, Hailey followed Jenna and Mandy as the three made their way to Jenna’s car and shot out of the parking lot, the sleek convertible’s bass speakers thumping in concussive waves of noise pollution.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Smith and Mendoza parked their respective vehicles in the reserved lot behind the old sheriff’s center on Gurley Street, the sweltering heat of Black Canyon City now replaced by the brisk winds of Prescott’s Bradshaw Mountains.

  After the fruitless conversations with the staff at the café, Mendoza now suffered the same frustration with the new case that plagued Smith from th
e beginning.

  “You want to get some dinner?” Smith said. “I don’t know about you, but I can not live by doughnuts alone.”

  “I could eat,” Mendoza said, a smile crossing his features. “You ever been to Prescott before?”

  “Never.”

  “Then I’ve got a treat for you,” he said. “Let’s hit the Gurley St. Grill. It’s one of the best places in town.”

  “Sounds cool to me. Let’s do it.” Smith said.

  Walking down the street in the gathering breeze, the pair headed west on Gurley, crossing Montezuma. Moving further down the block, they came to the small restaurant, knots of customers occupying benches on both sides of the entrance.

  “Hang on a second. I’ll put us on the wait list.” Mendoza said, then disappeared inside the restaurant.

  Smith looked around, eyes settling on the looming edifice of the Yavapai County Courthouse across the street. The gray granite structure was a classic work of government architecture, all columns and steps. Smith also noticed the large clock nestled under the roof eaves. The building warmly reminded him of that famous movie with the eccentric inventor and the time-traveling DeLorean. Unconsciously checking his watch against the time displayed on the face, he waited and watched as the air was suddenly alive with the peal of bells, the strong tones announcing the seven o’clock hour.

  He scanned up and down the street, noting the restored buildings and small shops dotting the thoroughfare, while Mendoza sat on the bench to the right of the eatery’s door.

  A few minutes went by before the host, dapper in his western attire, called them to their table.

  “That was fast.” Smith said.

  Mendoza gave him a little crooked smile. “It pays to be in good with the management.”

  Mendoza led the way inside and motioned to the busy waitress. A few moments later, the woman appeared at their table, took their order and retreated.