by Joy Redmond
He grinned. Lance Jackson is back.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Lance drove out of the parking lot and turned right, following his instincts. He glanced down at the gas gauge. “Shit! Almost on empty.” Two blocks up the street, he saw a 7-Eleven with gas pumps. He put on his sock cap and pulled it down as far as it would go without covering his eyes, and put on his dark shades.
He filled the tank, then went inside to pay. As the clerk handed Lance his change, Lance lowered his voice and with the best northern accent he could muster, he said, “Is a trailer park near here?”
The older gentleman said, “Yeah, ya keep goin’ up this here street for ‘bout four blocks. Then take a left and that’ll take ya to a dirt road. Follow it about half mile or so and you’ll see Haven’s Way Trailer Park on the right. They’s always empty trailers there. All ready to fall down, but cheap.”
“Thanks.”
Lance drove up the street and just as he turned onto the dirt road, he saw a dog trotting beside a ditch. He stopped the car and got out. “Come here, little fellow. Are ya lost?” The dog ran to Lance. “Well, excuse me. You’re a missy. You don’t have a collar on. How about you come with me? I know what it’s like to be an orphan. We’ll be good company for each other.” He put the dog in the passenger’s seat. I’m not good with names, so I’ll just call you Beagle. I like those ears.” He stroked Beagle’s ears, and she licked his hand.
Lance drove on until he saw a big sign on a wrought iron fence: Haven’s Way.
He turned into the driveway and slowly drove down the pavement. There was a short line of trailers on both sides of the drive. It was hard to read some of the names on mailboxes. At the last trailer on the left he saw the name, Leifer. Petting Beagle, he said, “We know where to go. Let’s go find some breakfast and wait for them to wake up.”
Lance headed back the way he had come. He passed the motel cabins and still nobody was stirring. Three blocks up the street he found a café. An older woman was unlocking the front door. First customer. The parking lot is empty. Good. He locked Beagle in the car after promising her a biscuit. He looked through the car window. Beagle was lying down in the front seat, her head tucked between her front paws as if she were pouting. Lance chuckled.
Lance had a forty-five minute wait, but he was thankful to kill time. By the time he was served, only one other customer had come in. He kept his head tucked, sock cap down and shades over his eyes. He ate a hearty breakfast and drank several cups of coffee, then ordered four biscuits to go. Once outside, he wanted to open the trunk and search through the boxes of goodies, but thought better of it.
He got inside the car and handed Beagle a biscuit. She wolfed it down and whined. “Oh, you’re as hungry as I was. Here ya go, girl.” He handed Beagle one biscuit at a time until she had eaten all four. “I would tell ya to brush your teeth, but I guess you can wait till we find us a place to spend the night. A better place than where I stayed last night, but it did pay off handsomely.” He chuckled and Beagle gave a soft bark.
Lance drove back to the trailer park. “You listen, Beagle. Lie down in the seat and don’t make a sound until I get back. You understand?” Beagle lay down and put her head between her front paws. “Good girl. Be back as soon as I can.” Lance got out of the car, shut the door, but didn’t lock it. Then he opened the back door, picked up two bottles of Jack Daniel’s and tucked them under his arm pits, inside his jacket.
He squared his shoulders, looked around and didn’t see anybody. He glanced at his watch. Seven-thirty in the morning. Most of the trailers look empty.
Lance knocked on the front door. He waited a few minutes, then knocked harder. He shifted on his feet, wondering if the door was unlocked. Just as he reached for the doorknob, he heard a voice. “I’m comin’. Hold yer horses. I can’t get around on these broken down old knees.”
An obese woman opened the door. “Hello, Bessie. Good to see ya again.”
“Who are you? What you want this time of mornin’? I just barely got my eyes open.”
“My name is Bob. I’m a friend of Lacy’s. I thought you’d remember me. Anyway, I brought you a Christmas present.” He reached inside his jacket and took out a bottle, holding it toward her.
Bessie smiled and Lance saw her front teeth were missing. “Well, come on in, Bob. You say you a friend of Lacy?”
Lance stepped inside and felt his stomach turn from the stench. “I sure am. Is she here?”
“Nah, that little bitch thinks she’s too good for her old mama and daddy. But you come on in and have a seat.”
“Did you say you brung that for Lacy?” Bessie asked, eyeing the bottle.
“No, I said I brought it for you. Here ya go.”
Lance watched Bessie’s hand shake and she licked her lips. “Boy, you be a life saver. I’ve been dying for a drink. Nobody cares enough to get me any more these days. Jack is my favorite. You have a seat on the couch and I’ll try to find us some clean glasses. It’s hard gettin’ around on these old knees and this damn cane just gets in my way.”
“No need for glasses. We’ll just tip the bottle. You have a seat and I’ll sit beside ya. We’re gonna have us a Christmas drink.”
Bessie hobbled over to the couch. Lance didn’t want to get too close so he sat on the far end. He uncapped the bottle and handed it to Bessie. Then he took out the other bottle, uncapped it and turned it up. “Here’s to ya!”
Bessie had to use both hands, but she tipped the bottle to her lips and drank as if she had a bottle of water. She took the bottle from her mouth. “Damn, good stuff. I can’t thank ya enough. I would go give ole Harlan a drink but I barely get food down him anymore. He’s just a pain in my old ass. I’ll be glad when he croaks, but you didn’t hear me say that.” She laughed and her fat belly shook.
“Do ya know where I can find Lacy? I’d like to wish her a Merry Christmas. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. How’s she doing?”
“Ah, hell, boy. She done went and took up with that RoJo, who she was crazy in love with since she was big enough to know what a boy was. Reggie, that’s my oldest son, her brother, said he was over there in Little Rock a few months ago—” Bessie paused and took another swig.
“Anyway, he said he was walkin’ down the street and he seen a big sign and it said, RoJo’s Sporting Goods. He said he looked in the window and saw Lacy, standin’ right beside him, all ga-ga lookin’. I reckon now that’s she’s got back with the money, she’s too good for her own. She always was a might uppity.”
“Did Reggie say where the sporting goods store is?”
“Yeah, he said it was over in Little Rock.” Bessie took another swig.
“I mean, where in Little Rock? That’s a big place,” Lance said in his most charming voice.
“Ah, I ain’t sure. Let me think—” She took another swig, wiped her mouth on her robe sleeve. “Ya know, I think he said it was on the main drag right through town. I ain’t ever been there, but—”
As Bessie tipped the bottle to her mouth, Lance lunged for her. He squeezed her jaws, hard, and her mouth opened wide. He rammed the bottle neck down her throat, turned up the bottle and let the booze flow. Bessie’s eyes bugged, she choked and tried to pull the bottle from her mouth.
Lance squeezed her jaws harder and kept emptying the bottle. “Swallow, Bessie, swallow!”
Booze was running from Bessie’s mouth and spilling down the front of her robe. Lance kept the bottle neck down her throat until she stopped spitting and choking. Her head fell sideways and her body slid down from a sitting position. He closed her mouth, but booze was still oozing from the corners. “Well, you must be full. You’re running over.” He did a Willy chuckle.
Lance stood over her, watching closely. When ten minutes passed, he was satisfied she would never open her big mouth again. She’d never cuss Lacy again. “You went out happy, Bessie. Killing you was my Christmas present to Lacy. You shouldn’t have mistreated her.”
Lance placed the empty
whiskey bottle in the crook of Bessie’s fat arm that was resting against the couch. Her other arm had fallen off the couch, dangling as if it were an overstuffed sausage roll. “Go to hell, Bessie, ole gal.”
Lance picked up the bottle he had opened but had only taken a couple sips from. He placed the cap on it and placed it by the front door. He glanced at Bessie again. “Dead as a door nail!”
He walked down the hall, saw a door ajar, and pushed it open. The stench was stronger and the smell of piss stung his eyes. He smiled as he walked over to the bed. Harlan was lying on his back, an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. A tall, green oxygen tank sat beside the bed. He punched Harlan on the shoulder. “Hey, time to wake up! You’ve got company!”
Harlan opened his eyes. He raised his hand off the bed and wiggled his fingers.
“That’s right. It’s bye-bye to you, you sonofabitch!” Lance ripped off the mask, then turned the chrome knob on the oxygen tank to OFF. “How does it feel, Harlan? Did you ever think that you stole the life right out of Lacy all those years? She didn’t feel as if she was getting any oxygen either. Paybacks are such a bitch.”
Harlan flailed his arms, his legs jerked and his eyes bugged. Lance heard a few gasps, then gurgles. He watched a bit of foam spill from Harlan’s mouth. Then no sounds came from him. Again, Lance waited ten minutes, watching, making sure all the life had left Harlan’s body. When he was satisfied, he placed the mask back over his nose and mouth and turned the oxygen tank to ON. “Killing you was my Christmas present to Lacy. Rot in hell, you bastard!”
Lance hurried up the hall, took one last look at Bessie and smiled as he picked up the bottle by the door. “Merry Fuckin’ Christmas!”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Lance hurried to his car, looking in all directions. He opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. Beagle raised her head and gave a soft bark. “Mission accomplished, Beagle. You were a good girl.” He started the engine, made a U-turn, and headed out of the trailer park.
“How would you like to go to Little Rock?” He uncapped the bottle, took a large swig, then recapped it and placed it beside him. As Lance drove away, he pictured Bessie and Harlan’s lifeless bodies and he finally felt euphoria. “Ah, the thrill of the kill! Hell yeah!”
Once they were on the highway to Little Rock, Lance pulled over to the side of the road. “You need to get out and pee.” He picked up Beagle, got out of the car, then put her in the weeds. “Hurry up and get it done. Time is wasting.”
When he arrived in Little Rock, he found a Best Western Motel. “Nothing fancy, but we won’t be staying long. Now when I get a room, you’re gonna have to stay while I do a little investigating. I’ll bring ya back a treat.”
When Lance and Beagle were settled in, he took a few more sips from the bottle. He put on his jacket, looked at Beagle and said, “You stay quiet and don’t be tearing up anything. I’ll be back soon. I’ll bring us some hamburgers.”
Beagle lay flat on the floor at the foot of the bed and placed her head between her front paws.
Lance was thankful for his great sense of direction. He had always been able to find his way around in a place he’d never been. It was as if he had a built-in map. Soon he was driving down Main Street, looking on both sides. “There it is,” he said, and pulled into a parking space. He fed the meter then started walking. He stood in front of the large window and peered inside. There were a few people milling around. He shifted on his feet when he saw three rows of glass gun cases. Wouldn’t it be a hoot to buy a gun from the man, then shoot him with it?
His eyes were fixed on the man behind the front counter. You must be the great RoJo.
On his way back to the motel, he stopped at McDonald’s and bought him and Beagle a few hamburgers and fries. Just as he pulled out of the parking lot, he saw a Wal-Mart. One more thing before the fun begins.
Back at the motel, Lance and Beagle enjoyed their meal. At 4 o’clock, he told Beagle to be good and left the room, his adrenaline pumping. Ten minutes later he was a block away from RoJo’s Sporting Goods. He picked up the binoculars and watched the entrance closely, wondering if Lacy would come into sight. By 5’oclock, nobody was coming or going. Just as he was about to place the binoculars on the seat, he saw RoJo turn the sign in the front window. Closed.
Lance drove around the block and down a small alley behind the sporting goods store. He pulled up beside two large trash bins and waited. Soon, RoJo came outside and got into a black Chevy pickup. “Show me where you go from here, big boy.”
RoJo pulled into the entrance of Evergreen Apartment Complex, and drove up Crestwood Drive.
By the time Lance pulled into the entrance, he had lost sight of the Chevy pickup. “Where did ya go?” He drove up Crestwood, then turned right onto Maplewood Drive. There on the corner of Crestwood and Maplewood, he saw the pickup in a driveway.
He pulled over to the curb on Crestwood Drive and turned off the motor. Using the binoculars, he saw the numbers on the door. “I think I’ll take door number 22.” He spanned the binoculars in all directions. There was a red Volkswagen, coming from the other end of the street. His breath caught in his throat when it pulled into the driveway and parked beside the pickup. Then he saw Lacy step out and walk behind her car.
He adjusted the lens on the binoculars, zoomed in on Lacy’s face when she turned in his direction. It was almost as if she were looking at him, knowing he was looking at her, tantalizing him.
Lacy was more beautiful than the first day he had met her, almost three years ago. Her hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail. A few wisps of hair fell over her forehead and in front of her ears.
Lance gazed at her long, slender neck, wanting to kiss the inviting spot she had always enjoyed. His throat was dry as he watched her brush a strand of hair from her eyes with long, slender fingers like a piano player. Her long nails were painted platinum.
Sweat oozed from of his body. He felt as if he was going to spontaneously combust as his desire for her built. “You will be mine again. The thought of you being with another man is more than I can stand.” He lowered his head on the steering wheel and banged his forehead hard enough to raise a knot.
He raised his head and noticed an older lady who lived across from Lacy, staring in his direction, as if she was wondering who the stranger was in the neighborhood. He started the car and drove up Maplewood. When he got to the end of the street, he turned right onto a highway. “Where does this road go?” He drove around a sharp bend and saw a thicket to his right. He pulled over to the side of the road and picked up the binoculars. The thicket was thin and he could see the back of Lacy’s apartment.
Lance liked the layout. If Lacy went out the front door, she had a lawn and a sidewalk, like being in town. If she went out the back door, she had a small yard that ended at a thicket: small trees, bushes and undergrowth, like being in the country. Squirrels scampered through the yard and up the trees.
He made a U-turn and headed back toward the complex. He slowly drove past Lacy’s apartment, and the nosy neighbor was still giving him the eye. He wanted to flip her off, but thought better of it.
As he drove back across town, snowflakes began to fall. He was tired and he desperately needed a shower and shave. He had not slept for over thirty-two hours.
“I found them, Beagle,” he said, when he walked into his room. “Sorry, I didn’t bring you a treat, but I think you’re good until tomorrow.”
The next morning, Lance was awake just as the sun was coming up. He quickly dressed and took Beagle outside. Once he had Beagle back inside, he told her to be good, then headed back to the Evergreen Apartments.
From that day on, Lance bird-dogged Lacy. I guess you finally gave up that stupid idea of being a singer and became a hairdresser. I like seeing your name on a sign.
Within two days, he had Lacy and RoJo’s daily routines down pat. He shook his head with disgust. What boring lives. So predictable. Then he smiled. Such easy targets.
In th
e afternoons, Lance hid in the thicket and watched. Precisely at 6 o’clock, both days, Lacy and RoJo brought out a poodle and let it run around the yard and pee. His heart quickened when he heard her voice. “Darlin, you better not take off through the thicket. I get tired of chasing you. Get your business done and hurry up, it’s cold out here.”
“I’ll chase him if he runs off, Lacy. Let him have some fun,” RoJo said.
A neighbor opened his back door and walked over to Lacy and RoJo. In unison, they said, “Hi, Fred.”
Fred laughed, then said, “Are you two still arguing over who has to chase Darlin? I’ll get him. It wouldn’t hurt me to run after him. I need the exercise.” He patted his belly.
Lance watched Darlin lift his hind leg and water everything in sight. Then Lacy picked him up. “Give Fred a kiss. We need to get back inside.”
Fred leaned down and Darlin licked his face. “You sweet boy,” Fred said. “See ya tomorrow.”
The third afternoon, Lacy, RoJo and Fred met in the backyard so Darlin could pee and run around the yard. I guess this is your new family. Why did you have to go and mess up things up for us? He waited for them to go back inside, then he ran through the thicket and got back into his car and headed back to the motel.
He unlocked the motel door and stepped inside, ready to see his roommate. When he flipped on the lights, he noticed droplets of blood on the carpet. He picked up Beagle. “Damn, girl. You’re in heat. What am I supposed to do about you?” He laughed. “I guess I could buy a pack of cigarettes, break off the filter and use it for a Tampon.”
Lance sat on the side of the bed, rubbed his eyes and decided to take a long, hot soak in the tub while he toked on a joint. While his bathwater was running, he peered out the double window of his room. The town was glowing with bright lights of all colors. Plaster-wood Santas were on rooftops. Blow-up snowmen were on porches. Wooden reindeer were on lawns. “I hate Christmas,” he mumbled through clenched teeth.