by J. L. Wilson
"Monkeys?"
I waved a hand. "Macaques. They're seldom in here." I saw a faint glimmering ahead. Finally. The light at the end of the tunnel. I remembered the Robert Lowell quote: The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of the oncoming train. I stopped, suddenly frightened.
Waller brushed by me, busily checking off items on his clipboard. "I can see I'll need to come back tomorrow. I want to examine this tunnel more thoroughly and it's getting too dark to check the pasture."
The dry, rustling sound of claws on dirt sounded behind me. I whirled, peering wildly at the ceiling, then right and left.
"What was that?" Waller started to turn.
I sprang forward, almost knocking him over as I rushed past. "It's the wind." I didn't pause because I wasn't anxious to see an escaped animal or...Or what? A memory of Wade's laughing face seemed to fill the air in front of me. A ghost? A scary Halloween trick? Or only the remnant of a stressful day?
I passed the fourth and fifth niches, each one garishly painted and/or decorated with appliqués and stencils. These were bins like the first one so they didn't creep me out as much, but I still held my breath until I was past the last one.
"Mr. Waller? Did you want to check the barn now?"
Mel's voice echoed in front of us. She was silhouetted against the open door, the fading sunlight giving her a hazy appearance like an angel. I shivered again, so certain something was following me I thought I felt it breathing on my neck. I stumbled against another metal bin partly recessed into the wall, this one made from a trash can. It dinged hollowly as I bounced off.
"Is everything okay from the storm, Mel?" The tunnel ran steeply uphill at the end and my words sounded gasped.
"Dorothy, I didn't know you were here." Mel stepped over the rim of the doorframe and hurried down the slope into the tunnel to meet me, her long, oval face worried. "Is Waller in there?" she whispered. "Where is he?"
"He's back there. He's coming." I pushed past her, hopping over the low rim and taking a few steps to lean against the frame of the side barn door. Cool evening air enveloped me, redolent with the smell of manure, corn, and earth. I drew in a long, calming breath as the setting sun shone warmly on my face.
My phone chimed Goodbye Yellow Brick Road from my pocket. I fumbled it out, not anxious that other people should know my ringtone for Drew's cell phone. "Hi, Drew."
"I'm at your house, Dorothy. I need to talk to you."
I walked forward a few steps to look down the hill at the small figure standing on the stoop of my house. A blue and white squad car was in the driveway. "I'm up here, at Mel's."
He turned and I waved. "Stay put. I'll be right there." The figure strode to the police car in my driveway and got inside.
"But the road--" I was talking to dead air. I moved a few feet forward and peered around the side of the house. The gravel road north of the front yard appeared clear of debris. Maybe they removed the tree Mina had mentioned earlier.
Thinking of Mina made me think about Liza the pony. I started back toward the barn but slowed when I saw Mel and Waller outside the Tube doors, deep in conversation. "Drew is coming over," I said to Mel as I neared them.
"Okay." She smiled briefly at me then turned her attention back to Waller. I saw her worry in the tight line of her shoulders covered by her faded University of Kansas T-shirt and the anxious glances she darted toward the inspector.
"It isn't wise to keep primates in that tunnel." Waller ignored me as he headed for the door into the barn. "In fact, none of the animals in your care should be allowed in there until I can get a team here and inspect it more thoroughly." He paused at the double doors to the Tube, propped open and brightly lit by the fading sun. "We've had a wet spring. Water could get in there."
"But we never had any question about it in the past. I've had yearly inspections and last year I was commended for using the tunnel for exercise in the winter." Mel glanced at me and I nodded agreement.
"I remember that." I turned when I heard tires on the gravel road. I spied Drew's squad car over the low hedge at the front of the property. He was stopped and he leaned over the driver's window to talk to Hank, who stood by the fence.
Waller followed my gaze and his eyes widened. "The police are coming?"
"I need to talk to Chief Strawn about something," I explained.
Waller wheeled and strode toward a dark brown sedan parked near the house. "I can see you're busy now, Mrs. Claire. I'll come back another time." He looked at the sky. "Yes, it's getting too dark to do a proper review now anyway."
Mel hurried after him. "I'm sure we can finish this tonight. Chief Strawn doesn't need to talk to me."
"I'll be in touch, Mrs. Claire," Waller said as he and Mel reached his car. He tossed his clipboard in through the open driver's side window. "My schedule is somewhat full but I'll be back soon to finish my inspection." He ducked into the driver's seat, closed the door and had the car in gear so fast he almost cut off his own words. Waller backed up just as the squad car parked next him. He gave it plenty of room as he drove onto the gravel drive, moving at a snail's pace through the puddles.
Drew got out of the squad car and watched the departing vehicle, but Waller was barely visible in the driver's seat, the shadows from the windbreak dappling his sedan. "Who was that?"
"More trouble in an already troublesome day," I said glumly.
"It's the health inspector," Mel said, staring after the departing vehicle.
"Stupid time to come for an inspection," Drew snapped. "We just had a tornado."
I stepped back in surprise. It wasn't like Drew to be so short-tempered. Then I saw how exhausted he seemed and how his left shoulder barely moved. He was probably running on adrenaline now after a day that started with a tornado and was ending with the FBI infringing on his territory.
Mel sighed. "Tell me about it." She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. She appeared almost as tired as Drew and certainly as worried.
"It'll be okay." I put an arm around her waist and gave her a small hug. "You do a great job with all the animals, Mel. Nobody's going to take them away from you."
"There are so many rules and regulations." Mel's brown hair, already fuzzy from humidity, seemed to buzz with her anger. "They don't care how the animals are doing, really. They just want to make sure we follow their damn laws." She tossed Drew a rueful smile. "Sorry."
"Not a problem." Drew shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Mel. The next time he comes back, things will be more normal."
"Yeah, there's that. Do you need me for anything? I want to get the chickens settled." Mel was already taking a step toward the barn.
Drew waved her away. "Go on. I need to talk to Dorothy."
"Leo's bringing a pizza later," I said. "Why don't you and Hank come over and we'll play Monopoly?"
Mel shook her head. "We already ate. Besides, I have to talk to Baby Dot when she gets home. She's staying out too late with that boyfriend of hers. I need to have a sit-down with her."
I winced. A sit-down was an old Kansas expression for what would probably be a parental battle. Mel shrugged. "It's for her own good." She ran a hand through her hair. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, Dorothy."
"She works so hard," I murmured to Drew as Mel hurried off to the barn. "They both do. I wish Baby Dot would help more."
"She's a teenager," Drew said. "She's not very responsible."
"I was responsible when I was a teenager. And so were you."
He smiled slowly, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "But we were also hell-raisers, Dorothy." He said my name in a soft, singsong cadence. It brought back memories of exciting times in the back seat of a car and the illicit pleasures of teenage romance.
A hot rush of warmth raced through me even as my brain froze. All I could do was stare into his eyes--those eyes I remembered so very well from my youth, eyes I remembered watching me with lust and love. It was as though the intervening years were a dream and I was just awakening. The most natura
l thing in the world would be to have Drew there with me, to have Drew by my side, to have Drew look at me with such unhidden love.
He took a step forward when I did until we almost touched. I felt his warmth, sensed the rise and fall of his chest, saw the flicker of arousal make his mouth soften...that mouth I remembered so well.
"Dorothy," he whispered.
I nodded inanely, still unable to speak.
A startled shout from the barn broke the spell that held us. Chickens started to squawk and Mel yelled, "Hank! The gate is broken again!"
Drew and I separated as Hank came around the side of the house and strode toward the barn. "Those chickens act like they're in prison," he muttered as he passed us. "I swear they break that latch at least once a week."
I took a step back, trembling. "Mel puts up with so much for those animals," I babbled, watching Hank disappear into the barn. "I hope that stupid inspector doesn't fault her for anything."
Drew stepped back, too. "She'll be fine." He gazed anywhere but at me and I did the same, jamming my hands in my shorts pockets as I examined the ground at my feet. "There's something I need you to see."
I raised my eyes cautiously. "What?"
He held out the key ring Tinsley showed me earlier. "Are you sure this isn't familiar?"
I took the ring and sorted through the various keys. Most were easy to identify--a car key, a house key, a safety deposit key. Then I came across one bigger than the others. "I think I know this one." I held up the long roundish key with the funnel shape on one end and the tumbler end shaped like a fat M. "It's one of Mr. Burke's keys."
Drew nodded. "That's what I thought, too." He took the ring, his fingers brushing against mine. I jerked as though scalded but I don't think he noticed. "I remember those times we went through the Tube at Halloween. This key used to hang on the hook near the metal door."
"You're right." I blushed again as I remembered the Tunnel of Love atmosphere that used to prevail in the Tube during Halloween.
Drew went to the storm cellar doors. I lagged behind, not anxious to go back into the tunnel again. He paused. "Coming?"
I nodded reluctantly. "I came through there a few minutes ago," I said as I followed him down the slope. "This place gives me the creeps."
Drew moved quickly into the Tube and I hurried to catch up. Cool shade surrounded us as we descended into the depths. The ground was slightly uneven and I stumbled. Drew turned. I ran into him, my hands going up to rest on his chest. He stared at me and lowered his head. Without conscious thought, I moved closer, angling my face upward. Our lips met in a passionate kiss that almost made me faint.
It was all so familiar and yet so exotic. Drew's scent, warm, musky, and spicy, all combined to awaken memories of youth, memories of skinny-dipping, stolen moments after football games and tantalizing encounters in the back hallway of the high school. I touched his chest, dimly aware of his belt and the assorted police things there--badge, gun, flashlight, handcuffs. The skin of his bare arms was warm to my touch, the muscles hard and firm as I ran my hands upward to circle his neck.
My body responded, warmth flowing through me and raising goose bumps on my arms. When Drew's arms tightened, I replied with a small moan. I pushed anxiously nearer when he settled his body against mine so I could feel his response, feel his body hardening even as I softened.
He shifted position and I was pinned against the wall, the cold plaster hard against my back and his equally hard body against my front. He broke the kiss and his breath was warm on my ear. "I've wanted to kiss you for years," he whispered. "Since I came home."
"Why didn't you?" I murmured, my words choked as his hand closed over my breast.
"After the fire..." He pulled back and I saw the crinkly scars along the side of his face.
I suddenly understood. The fire happened almost immediately after Drew came home and a couple of years before the election he won to become police chief. I heard a few mumblings that he got the sympathy vote but he won the election handily and the re-election four years later. "It wouldn't matter, Drew," I said softly. "You know that." But even as I said it, I wondered. Did it matter? Was the scarring an issue? Did I want him back in my life? If I did, why hadn't I told him? Why didn't I let him know I was interested in picking up where we left off? Leo's earlier words swirled in my brain. Was Drew acting this way because of Tinsley?
Drew stared into my eyes. "It's been a long time. I wasn't sure."
I heard a gentle chiming sound. The Merry Old Land of Oz was playing on my cell phone. Leo was calling. I wasn't sure whether to curse his timing or bless him.
I did neither. I broke away from Drew. His eyes were bright with--what? Curiosity? Lust? Love? I shook my head. "Sorry. It's Leo."
Drew touched my face gently, running one finger along my cheek. "You're still the prettiest girl in Oz." He turned and started down the slope of the tunnel.
I put the phone to my ear and followed.
Chapter 8
"Where are you, Dorothy? I'm standing in your kitchen and you're not here." Leo's agitated voice made me wince. I forgot completely about waiting for him at my house. I could imagine his panic when he got there and I was gone.
"I'm at Mel's house."
"You were supposed to stay here. Good God, Dorothy, you left your house unlocked. Anybody could have come in here! This is serious, you need to--"
"I'm with Drew."
Like magic, the flow of words shut off. I could imagine Leo, his shaggy head tilted to one side as he considered this. "Well, that's okay. How long do you think you'll be? I brought a take-and-bake pizza." I heard a clicking noise. "I'm preheating the oven. Where's the pizza stone I gave you for your birth--oh, here it is." His voice started to fade.
"Leo, I'm in the Tube. I can't hear you."
"Hurry… great gossip…to tell…Mina." The signal faded.
Drew approached the yellow metal door cautiously, his face once again calm and assured. Gone was the wild lover, the yearning beau, the headstrong, impetuous rascal.
I tucked the phone back in my pocket. "It's Leo. He was worried about me. He insisted on staying with me tonight."
Drew smiled, his eyes sparkling with laughter. "Good protection."
I laughed softly and watched as Drew took the purple padlock in one hand. He carefully inserted the key and turned it. "I never knew what was behind this door," I whispered.
"I guess we're about to find out." Drew stepped to the left and opened the door carefully, the hinges squeaking. His right hand rested on the butt of his gun. I blinked in surprise. He probably did it by habit. For some reason, the equation Drew=man who knows about guns had never really registered before.
A damp, moldy aroma like autumn leaves wafted toward me. "What's in there?" I leaned hesitantly closer.
Drew opened the door wider, revealing an oval opening about as wide as my shoulders and not quite as tall as me. "Looks like a cave entrance." He hunched over to peer inside, edging forward.
"Don't go in there!" I took hold of his arm.
He looked back at me. "I won't go far."
"You can't go in there. Who knows what's inside? There might be bats or rats or..." I ran out of disgusting ideas and finished with, "...bugs."
"Stay here. I won't go far." He ducked under the rocky lintel and turned sideways, easing through the roughhewn entryway. It was a snug fit for him but he managed, angling himself past a knobby outcropping before turning what appeared to be a corner.
"Drew! Don't go in there." I leaned over and peered into the opening where he vanished. "Where are you? What's in there?"
"Stay there, Dorothy. You hate small spaces so I know you'll really hate this." His voice was amused but casual, like he was talking to placate me. "There's a cavern ahead. Hold on. I won't be long." His voice faded.
"Drew, where are you?" I stuck my head into the opening, surprised to see that it wasn't completely dark. A faint flickering light bobbed ahead of me. It was Drew, using the flashlight I felt earli
er on his belt. "Where does it go?" My voice echoed hollowly.
No reply. I hesitated then followed, sucking in a breath when I saw I was in a narrow passage of stone, barely wide enough for me to go forward. My shoulders brushed the chilly rock on either side while ghostly coldness haloed around my head when my hair rubbed the low ceiling. I moved as quickly as I dared, checking back once in the cramped space to see the doorway gone behind me.
The sight made me panic as the walls closed around me. I tried to turn but couldn't because the cold gray stone was hugging me. I pressed forward around another slight bend in the wall and almost stumbled over Drew who was on bended knee, flashlight pointed downward at something in the dust near his feet.
"What is it? Where are we?" I don't know why, but I whispered as though afraid we'd be overheard--by who? Bats? Mice? I sucked in a frightened breath and pressed closer to Drew.
"Dorothy, get back. You shouldn't be here." His voice was low, angry.
I leaned closer to him. "What are you doing?"
He stood, still hunched but filling the tunnel. As he turned, his flashlight illuminated the space in front of him. I caught a glimpse of a wider passageway and beyond it a cavern or opening of some kind. "Be quiet. Get the hell out of here."
"Is that a cave?" I tried to peer past Drew but he shifted position, his shoulders brushing the wall and his chest almost touching my nose. I caught a whiff of sweat, warmth, and laundry detergent before he moved back. He held the flashlight pointed upward at his side making our shadows elongate on the ceiling so close to my head.
"Go back, Dorothy. Now. I can't go until you do."
I started to protest but I took one look at his angry face and tried to turn. I got stuck, though, my shoulders wedged against the rock. I struggled briefly, scraping off a patch of skin on my arms as panic made my breath ragged. Good Lord, I was stuck in the middle of a tunnel. Nobody knew we were there. What if we couldn't get out? I tugged frantically at my T-shirt sleeve, wondering if it was snagged.