“You have to talk to him,” said Lilah. “He must’ve had a gut feeling about those guys.”
“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Nick, chewing on a hot piece of garlic toast.
“One thing about old guys,” said Lilah, setting out two plates, “they have a clearer memory about things from the long distant past than the events of the day before.”
“I guess your Grandma’s like that,” said Nick, adoring the way the candlelight flickered on her cheeks.
“What?” she said absently, then as if remembering something important, she recovered herself. “Oh – yeah – I was off in dreamland. Yeah – she talks about her days at kindergarten. She even remembers what kind of earrings her kindergarten teacher wore.”
After supper, Nick’s head was so tired from all the thinking, he curled up in front of the hockey game and slipped into a dreamless sleep. When he woke the candles were out. A thin plume of smoke rose from the waxy stumps – as if they’d only just gone out. He jumped up and checked the clock. He’d been asleep for at least a couple of hours. But where was Lilah? He ran to the bedroom. The bed was untouched. The bathroom empty. A small fluttering of panic began like wings beating in his throat. Her car was in the garage but her boots were gone. Surely she hadn’t gone out walking alone? Not after the latest disappearance. He jammed on his snow boots and parka and headed out the back door, plunging into the dark line of trees. The thin, icy ribbon of the lake was visible beyond the trees, and he made out a faint light down there. But why would Lilah be burning something on the lake? He crept closer to see if he could figure out what was going on.
The shoreline was about a foot above the lake surface. He stood behind a tree to get a clear fix on the scene before him. Three or four kids were huddled around a crude campfire set up in a metal bucket punched with holes. The air was thick with the heady scent of marijuana and Lilah, wrapped in her white parka, sat by them on an upturned wooden crate. The moment she saw Nick she waved him over. Irritated by her recklessness, he stepped out onto the frozen lake surface, almost slipping when his feet hit the ice.
“Dammit,” he grunted as the kids covered their mouths and snickered.
“Quite a party going on here,” he said in a sharp tone.
Lilah’s brows knit for a brief moment. She looked hard at Nick as if to get a read on his mood
“These guys found the two drugged up kids,” said Lilah, patting the space on the crate next to her. “Come listen to their story.”
Grudgingly Nick sat down and checked out the group. Two guys in hoodies and two girls wrapped up in mufflers and hats. From what he could see of them, they looked to be around eighteen. “So, what’s the deal?” he said.
Lilah slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Tell him, Kevin.”
Kevin, was a bulky guy with the easy manner of a born leader. He reminded Nick of a young Stephen Castle with his shock of sandy hair and his rugged, open face that that was neither a child’s nor a man’s.
“See – we come here couple times a week. Toke up, chill and like sometimes play tunes.”
One of the girls held up her cell phone to let out a brief burst of music.
“Gee thanks, Ange,” said Kevin. “So we’re here on the lake last week. Tim and Claire show up. Normally we don’t hang with those guys ‘cos they’re into hard stuff. Meth and all that shit. Burned themselves out on it. So we don’t say anything. Ange gives them coffee and soon Claire’s shaking. Like she can’t stop. Tim tries to wrap a blanket round her but it’s like she’s having a fit. He says they’re trying to kick the meth but Claire’s taking it real bad. We try to give her a toke to calm her down but she’s shivering so hard she can’t even hold it. Then she starts retching. But there’s nothing coming out. We give her water but she almost chokes. I tell him she needs to get to a doctor and he says he don’t want no stranger asking questions. That’s when we see a light – a flashlight. And the beam’s moving like it’s making signals. Tim looks scared. We ask who it is and Tim says you don’t want to know. Before we can stop him, he drags Clare onto her feet and starts pulling her in the direction of the light. We yell at him to come back and we’ll get her to the hospital, but they kept going right towards that flashlight and that’s the last we seen of them until we found them in a clearing by Schuler’s barn.”
Nick felt a slight rush of blood to his heart when he heard that name again. He could never shake the feeling that Cole Schuler was not the squeaky clean teacher he was trying hard to be. “Do you know who was holding the flashlight?”
Kev and the others shook their heads. “We’ve all heard stories of the boogeyman with the hard drugs, but none of us believed it. We thought it was just junkie talk ‘cos only the meth and crack addicts ever talk about him.”
“You think he’s supplying the drugs?” asked Lilah.
“For sure,” said Kev. “Where else would they get them from?”
“Even the dope dealers won’t talk about him,” said Ange, her rosy face shining from behind her scarf.
“And who are the dope dealers?” said Nick.
“Can’t tell you that,” said Kev. “It’s privileged information.”
“Could it be someone at your school?” said Nick. “Maybe a teacher or something?”
“Nah,” said Kev, poking at the fire. “Everyone knows Mr. Schuler used to be into dope, but he’s been clean ever since he had kids. He’s always telling us to stay away from anybody who offers us drugs. Like he’s scared or something.”
“If it’s not him, then who is giving you the dope?” said Nick realizing that Schuler probably did know more than he wanted to. “Or do you wanna wait until someone else gets hooked on the hard stuff and burns their brains out,” said Nick, straining forward to make his point.
Kev looked at the others, then back at Nick. “You might want to check in with one of our friendly local real estate agents.”
“Gorman?” asked Nick.
“I never said nothing,” said Kev.
“You mean anything,” said Nick, his heart racing. “Tell me more.”
Lilah and Nick lay awake that night hatching a plan to invite Ray Gorman over for a few drinks, get him juiced enough to loosen his tongue, then pretend they wanted to buy drugs from him. Maybe then they could get some answers about the trafficking problem in Silver Narrows.
18
Gorman arrived the next evening around six. Lilah had all the hot appetizers going, the wine was chilled, candles burning and a hearty fire blazing in the grate. Stamping the snow from his boots, he stopped and looked around the place and when Nick stepped forward to take his coat, he could swear a look of sheer envy flickered across Gorman’s face. Snowflakes melted in his moustache causing thin rivers of water to dribble down his chin. Nick led him into the kitchen.
“Nice setup you have here,” he said. “Like an old, married couple.”
“Red or white?” said Lilah, pushing a wine glass forward.
“Too cold for the chilled stuff,” said Gorman rubbing his hands together. “I’ll take the red.”
They sat around the fire as Lilah placed platters of spicy shrimp and chicken satay on the cocktail table. The fire blazed and candles flickered. Conversation was slow to start, but Nick tried to steer it towards harmless topics like hockey or real estate. Gorman downed the first glass in record time and Lilah was there like a flash, refilling it. The second was done by the time they’d discussed the hockey playoffs and by the third, his cheeks had flushed deep red and he was talking more expansively about how classy Lilah’s party had been. Nick saw his chance.
“Too bad about Ike Dewar and Danny Johnson,” he said.
“Those guys got some bad blood between them,” said Gorman, staring deep into the fire.
“You know why?” asked Nick casually.
Gorman shrugged. “Before my time. Those guys were the original hippies. Hard to believe they were into sex and drugs and all that crap.”
<
br /> “Where d’you hear that?”
“Old Jake Hardy. You think that guy’s a harmless old shit – you should hear him go on about all the late-night skinny dipping and orgies that went on by the lake. He dropped more tabs of acid than I’ve had cups of coffee. Had a few bad trips too. That’s why his hands shake so much at the pump. He gets flashbacks. I mean really bad ones.”
“Like what?” said Lilah.
Gorman held his glass out for a refill. His mouth was beginning to slacken. Soon he’d be slurring his words. “I’m not sure it’s suitable for present company.”
Lilah jumped up. “I’m just going to check on the wings.”
When she’d gone Nick leaned forward. “I’m fascinated. I always thought that guy was a bit soft in the head.”
“Burned his brains cells, more like. Says he gets this recurring dream about a demon with blood painted across his face and he’s running and jumping over a campfire and waving a knife in the air.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “There’s always a woman’s naked dead body in it too. Covered from head to toe in blood.”
“Jeez,” said Nick. “I wonder if it’s real or just some crazy acid dream.”
Gorman shrugged again and sipped his drink. “Who knows? It’s real to him. Says he lies awake all night sometimes trying not to fall asleep and dream it again. But whatever – it’s a sick thought. Who knew what these old guys were up to when they were kids?”
Lilah returned with a plate of wings. Gorman stacked his plate up and began to devour them so fast, the barbecue sauce stuck to his moustache. Nick chewed on a wing and looked over at Lilah who raised her eyebrows. Nick gave the slightest nod and Lilah crossed her long legs. Gorman’s eyes were glued to them.
“But how about now?” said Lilah, leaning forward and topping up Gorman’s glass. “I mean if somebody wanted to get hold of a little something to make them feel better, where would they go.”
Gorman wasn’t drunk enough. His eyes flicked away from the fire and fastened onto Lilah. “Who might be wanting something and why?”
Now Lilah shrugged. “Just wondering. Life gets a little slow here. Sometimes you need something to make you mellow.”
Gorman went on chewing. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not into drugs – just a drink now and again.”
“C’mon Ray,” said Lilah. “Hairdressers hear all the gossip and your name’s cropped up more than a few times when it comes to the subject of dope.”
He looked over at Nick. “You put her up to this, Hendricks? Looking for something to liven up that sad rag you call a newspaper?” He placed his glass on the table, clinking it loudly. “Suddenly I don’t feel hungry.”
Nick realized he had nothing to lose. “You’ll stay right where you are, Gorman, until you answer a couple of questions.”
Gorman held onto the chair arms, his eyes burning. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Nick jumped up and stood over Gorman’s seat. “Maybe a few of your respectable realty customers might like to know about your little love nest for under eighteens at the Silver Narrows Motel. All the local high school kids all know that kind old Uncle Ray is always ready with a convenient supply of dope should they need it. And if they happen to have more than they can handle, he’ll offer them a free bed until they’re straight enough to go home to Mommy and Daddy. That’s as long as they don’t mind sharing with him.”
“I don’t know who told you that,” said Gorman, his face turning a deep puce.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Nick. “The important thing is that two of the kids you probably started on dope, almost died in very suspicious circumstances. You know anything about where they were getting their meth from?”
Gorman levered himself out of the chair and stepped so close Nick could feel the spittle as he talked, “Better watch what you’re saying, Hendricks. Those are serious accusations and the cops might not like you interfering with their investigation.”
Lilah stepped in between them just as Nick was about to push Gorman’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay – Ray, I’m gonna level with you. A while ago we ran into those same two kids on the road. They were so messed up with meth, they were barely conscious. Now one of them is lying in a coma in hospital. The other one’s so scared he’s mute. We’re not interested in the kind of small time dope dealing that you’re into. We want to know where the meth is coming from.”
Gorman backed away, his face a mask of fear. “I don’t touch that shit. I had nothing to do with those kids, and I don’t deal in meth.”
“But who does?” said Lilah, reaching to touch his shoulder.
He shook off her hand as if it had scalded him. “I don’t know anything about that. Nobody does.”
Nick followed him as he headed towards the door to grab his coat. “You’re hiding something, Gorman, and you’re scared.”
Gorman wheeled around to face him. “Let’s say I’ve been warned. And when you get the kind of warning I had, you keep your hands well out of it.”
“Who? When?” said Nick almost on top of the guy.
“I don’t know,” said Gorman. “It happened a long time ago – maybe twenty years. One minute I was walking down to the lake in my backyard, next minute I wake up in the middle of the woods. I’m blindfolded, tied up, hurting all over, mouth filled with blood. Somebody was behind, standing over me. I could hear him breathing. My fingers were screaming with pain. He spoke in this weird, hissing voice. Said Stick with dope, asshole. The hard stuff is mine. Then he left me and headed off in a truck or something. By the time I got the blindfold off, the place was deserted. All the fingernails on my left hand had been removed. I’d lost three teeth, broke two ribs and I was covered in bruises. I almost lost that hand it got so infected. ”
“Good story,” said Nick. “Where d’you read that one?”
Gorman struggled with his coat. “You can believe it or not, but if I were you, I’d be real scared. This guy is everywhere. You won’t know when he’s gonna strike. And if you start rocking the boat, he’ll be onto you before you can blink. Matter of fact he’s probably been watching you for a while now. Ask Herb Brenner. He got too close once – like me.”
With that he threw the door open, then turned around to them. “And keep your eyes open,” he said. “Especially if you’re out walking in the woods.”
In the early hours of the next morning, Nick woke in a cold sweat, his pulse racing and every sense telling him that someone was walking round outside. Lilah was fast asleep beside him, her arm thrown upwards, her hair spread over the pillow. The urge to protect her at all costs was like a tidal wave slamming into his body with such force he felt dizzy. He swallowed his fear and crept out of the bed, making his way to the kitchen where he picked up a rolling pin and a carving knife, then worked his way around all the windows checking for activity.
The moon was a silver crescent in an inky black sky, shedding enough light for him to see the snow was untouched – glistening like brilliant diamonds scattered among the trees. He breathed a little easier then crossed the great room to check the front of the house. Lilah had left the Christmas lights on, flooding the driveway with intense blue light that made the scene seem unreal, like a frame from a movie. His car was parked to the side, the windows frosted over. Gorman’s blackened tire tracks were still visible in the snow. In his hurry to get away, he’d gunned the gas so hard the wheels had spun, burning rubber.
Nick was just remembering Gorman’s final words when he almost jumped out of his skin, as a large dark shape leapt into the driveway. He dropped the rolling pin with a clatter. A magnificent stag bounded into the clearing. It stopped and looked around as if trying to figure out why the light was so blue. Then it shook its antlers and looked towards the house. Nick gasped at the beauty of the scene, unaware of the footsteps behind him.
“Why the hell are you carrying that knife,” said a soft voice, and he turned to see Lilah. Her hair hung in dark tangles down her shoulders, the thin silky slip skim
med her slim body and her eyes were luminous in the dark.
He put a finger to his lips and beckoned her forward to look out the window. The stag was frozen in the blue light. Lilah crept forward and Nick heard her sharp intake of breath. He looked around and thought he saw the glint of tears on her cheeks.
“It’s indescribable,” she whispered.
Nick placed the knife on a table and caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. “Like you.” Then he couldn’t stop the words that slipped from his mouth. “Will you marry me, Lilah?”
She cupped his chin in her hand and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “I will, Nick Hendricks. I will.”
19
Nick was walking on air the next morning. After Lilah had said yes, he’d carried her back to bed and they’d made love with such tenderness, his body ached. All that corny two become one stuff was real. He’d felt as if he could melt into every pore of her body. And when he left for work, he missed her as soon as he pulled the car away. Turning to look behind him, he saw her wave from the window. She’d decided to stay back for a while since she had no early morning appointments and Nick planned to take a chance and drop in at the hospital to talk to the parents of Claire, the comatose girl and Tim, her friend.
When he reached the top of the driveway, he stopped as three does trotted out from the thicket of trees and began to nose among the piles of twigs and dried fir branches. They must be following the stage, he thought as he remembered the magical moment from the previous night. The moment Lilah had said yes. At breakfast they’d decided to keep everything quiet until they’d had time to make plans. Nick, surprised at how romantic he’d become, suggested Valentine’s Day as a possible date and Lilah had agreed.
The sound of footsteps crunching over snow suddenly woke Nick from his dream and set the deer running back into the cover of trees. Nick snapped to consciousness, remembering Gorman’s warning. He looked around but there was no sign of activity. It must have been his imagination, he thought until he was aware of a movement on his right side. Something dark had flitted through the trees. It could’ve been a deer or a person. He pulled away from the drive and turned in the direction he’d seen the figure moving.
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