Woulds

by J. L. Wilson

  Or digging into a man’s throat. I put a hand to my own throat and gulped.

  Marianne’s normally pale face was even paler than usual. Bright splotches of blood dampened her pale pink skirt and her hem where the fabric was torn.

  “What did you do, Rob?” I croaked.

  Marianne turned slightly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to talk to Richard.” I glanced down then up, swallowing at the sight of Richard, his eyes open and staring, his throat missing.

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Sweat poured along Rob’s face and his shirt was wet with it, dark rings around the neck and arms. His desperate eyes met mine through the dust motes glittering in the filtered light in the gloomy room. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “What?” I made the mistake of glancing down at Richard, my gaze darting from the awful sight. “What do you mean? He wasn’t armed. Did you attack him? It wasn’t self-defense, was it?”

  “Not him. Guy.”

  I gaped at him. Behind me John made an odd, strangled noise. I pressed back against him, suddenly anxious for his solid bulk.

  “You killed Guy?” Marianne whispered. Her face paled even more and I was sure she might faint. “When? How? Oh, Rob. What did you do?”

  Her mournful words made me shiver, not because of the sadness but because of the wealth of knowledge I heard in her voice. Marianne guessed. She knew something was wrong.

  Rob stepped forward, brandishing the hoe. I retreated again from the pool of blood. For one crazy second I was worried if I stepped in it, I’d be contaminated, like when we were kids and we played lava-on-the-floor. Sanity reasserted itself. “We should call an ambulance. Maybe Richard is alive.”

  “That night.” Rob stared at Marianne, his eyes haunted. “I didn’t mean to. Guy came to the cabin. He told me he knew about the embezzlement. He was going to tell Richard. I hit him and he fell. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  I remembered his frantic phone call. “You panicked and wanted my help but then you changed your mind. That’s why you called me the second time. You decided not to admit to it.”

  “It was an accident,” he insisted. “I just didn’t tell anybody.”

  John shifted behind me, moving quietly. I couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but I prayed he was either dialing a cell phone or getting ready to back up and get help.

  “What have you done, Rob?” Marianne asked, horrified. “Aren’t you taking your medicine? You promised me you’d take your medicine.”

  Oh, shit. Marianne told me he was taking medication. For what? “Are you okay, Rob?” I struggled to keep my voice from cracking.

  “I’m fine.” Rob breathed heavily, almost gasping, like a man who’d run a brisk mile and was recovering from the effort. “I didn’t need the pills so I stopped taking them.”

  Oh, shit. John must have thought the same thing I did because I heard his sharply indrawn breath. “Was it an accident, Rob?” he asked in a soothing, calming voice while he eased forward one tiny inch at a time.

  “Yes and no,” Rob said. “It was an accident Guy came to my house. And I guess it was an accident he died. But I’m not sorry I threw his body in the river. It was all so convenient. I saw his note to Marianne. I knew he was going away, so nobody would miss him. It was like fate.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. Like it had to be.”

  “But why?” Marianne took a step closer to Rob, her hands outstretched. “Was it because of me? Rob, you know our marriage was over. It didn’t matter about Guy. Even if he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be happy.” She appeared oblivious to the man who was either dying or dead, lying at her feet. Marianne appeared oblivious to anything but Rob, who stared at her, the hoe still upraised. “Why?”

  “Of course you wouldn’t be happy. Nothing I did ever made you happy. You were always the princess, waiting for her Prince Charming.”

  “Marianne,” I said softly. “We should leave. Rob needs help. We should go.”

  John started to move, bending over. When Rob swung to face him, John said, “I’m just setting down my things, Rob. There’s nothing to worry about.” He set the framed certificate on the floor but kept the box holding the arrow. “See what I got. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

  I don’t think Marianne even heard John speak. Her mind was too preoccupied with her own worries. “I filed for divorce but I’ll have to testify against him at a trial, won’t I? I don’t know if I can do it.” Tears dampened her cheeks. It made her seem helpless, vulnerable, and weak.

  How much of this is real and how much staged? I chastised myself for such uncharitable thinking. Good Lord, her husband was a murderer and her lover was dead. If anybody had a right to cry, Marianne did.

  I tried to move back but my bandaged hand came in contact with the doorframe, sending a bolt of agony through my arm. That painful reminder fueled my anger. “You son of a bitch. You hit me with Guy’s car, didn’t you? Did you trash my house?” I started forward but John’s hand on my arm held me back. “We were friends, Rob. How could you?”

  His attention fixated on me. It felt like I was being skewered. “When John told me you were on your way to his house, it was too good a chance to pass up.”

  John tensed next to me then he shifted. I realized he was inching his way to the right, edging around Richard in the middle of the room. The green box holding his arrow was clutched in John’s left hand, almost crushed by his grip. “I trusted you, Rob. We all did.”

  “You all thought I was a fuck-up. Poor Rob.” His voice was sarcastic and bitter.

  I winced. How many times did I think that?

  “What do you think you’re doing, Rob?” John asked softly. “You can’t get away.”

  “I can if I kill you.”

  I stiffened but John only shook his head, like a ponderous bear worrying over annoying bugs buzzing around his face. “You know I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you hurt Tuck.” He looked down at me, his face calm. Only his eyes betrayed his worry, his fear. “Get out of here, Tuck.”

  “If you do, I’ll kill her.” Rob raised the hoe, twisting toward Marianne.

  Marianne gasped. “Rob, you wouldn’t. You love me.”

  Rob took a step forward. “You betrayed me just like Richard did. I only did what PJ told me to do. He knew the factory was contaminated. He told me to cover it up. I knew someone would start digging in and looking more closely at the factory. My money would be discovered.”

  “Your money?” Marianne could barely voice the words around her sobs. “You don’t have any money, Rob. You told me we were broke.”

  “What happened, Rob? I don’t understand.” John edged slightly to the right. Be careful, I wanted to say. Don’t get hurt.

  “Guy knew I was cooking the books at the factory. I was investing with a company in New York and Guy knew them. A friend of his mentioned that somebody from Guy’s hometown was getting rich in the market. I didn’t plan to kill Guy, but then he showed up. It made sense.” Rob’s gaze shifted to me. “That brought you into play.”

  “Me? I don’t know anything about investing,” I protested.

  “But you did know the guy who snooped around the office, copying files. I saw him in there and I pulled his file. PJ told us to watch out for undercover activists, so I called the private detective we have on staff and he told me the kid grew up in Louisiana. You confirmed it for me the other night when you told me where you used to live. Those scrapbooks of yours were proof.” He said it like I was the guilty one, not him.

  Oh, shit. That’s the only thing I could think of. Poor Will.

  “I called the kid using Guy’s phone and promised him some information. He met me at the factory and I knocked him out. I called the Sheriff’s office because I needed to make sure somebody competent would show up.”

  I’ll have to remember to pass on that compliment to Owen. If I get the chance.

  “I turned the guy loose in the field. I fired a shot, then Owen fired a shot and well, y
ou know what happened next.”

  I nodded weakly. Rob shot Will and Owen fired his gun, too. But it was Rob’s gun that killed Will.

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Rob said softly. “Things started to fall apart. I needed Guy to take the blame for my finances. I needed PJ to take the blame for what happened at the factory. I didn’t think Richard would turn on me. I thought he’d support me. He knew PJ was incompetent. I don’t understand it.” Rob sounded like a hurt, bewildered child.

  “But PJ died and an accountant came in and it all started to come apart. I needed a little more time. I was going to leave town, let Guy have Marianne. I wanted to start a new life. I was even selling the cabin to Guy. But that’s null and void now because Guy can’t sign anything.” Rob suddenly smiled. “That’s right. I can keep the cabin.” His shoulders relaxed and he sighed but then he tensed, his frantic eyes peering around the crowded room. “No, I can’t. I have to leave. That’s right. That’s why I sold it.”

  “Rob, how could you?” Marianne’s anguished words were almost incomprehensible through the sobs that made her gasp. I wasn’t sure if she was crying for Guy, or Rob’s betrayal, or Richard’s death. Shit. Who cares why she’s crying? God knows she’s got reason enough.

  Rob’s head moved slowly to face her. Any indecision or weakness suddenly vanished and a steely resolve replaced it, changing him to some kind of avenging angel. “I decided to finally live my life.” Rob straightened and the hoe in his hands came crashing down, slashing across the empty space over Richard’s body.

  Marianne reeled back and I caught a glimpse of her startled face, the blood spurting from her neck when she slammed against the window on the side of the building. Glass exploded around her, and she slumped on the frame for an instant then sank, blood flowing on her chest to stain her pink blouse.

  “Holy crap, Rob!” I shouted. Rob turned to me, the hoe upraised. “This isn’t right. Don’t do this. What are you doing?” I was babbling but I couldn’t stop myself. Marianne was only slightly closer to him than me and she—

  Oh, God. She was gurgling or her blood was gurgling while it spurted from her neck.

  “You stupid bitch. If only you’d left it alone.” Rob raised the hoe.

  “Rob, this is insane.” I turned to Marianne, who struggled to talk, her hands making little grasping gestures on the rough wood floor. Blood dribbled off the side of her neck near a gaping hole.

  John lunged forward, the golden arrow in his hand. Rob swiveled to meet him, but the hoe was too awkward to use in close quarters. He shifted his grip and met John’s assault, using the hoe to block John’s downward thrust with the arrow. I tried to move around them to get to Marianne, but between Rob and John fighting and Richard on the floor, there wasn’t much space to maneuver.

  I jumped over Richard’s body but Rob and John turned, Rob slamming into my right shoulder. It must have caught him off-balance, because he dropped the hoe. John made a lunge for him, but Rob ducked, glancing around for the hoe. I dove for it, grabbing it before he could. I dragged it out of his reach, sliding it behind me so I got my hands free to help Marianne.

  I knelt over her. She was so terribly pale except for where the bright red blood flowed from her throat. I grabbed a handful of her skirt and tore, wadding up the soft fabric to put against the wound. Her eyes were focused on me and all I saw in their pale blue depths was surprise, like she couldn’t understand why she was dying here on a dirty floor with her loving husband fighting for his life.

  “It’s okay, Marianne. I’ll get a doctor. It’s okay.” I turned, my knees scraping on the splintery wood floor. I gasped in pain but kept moving, keeping low and aiming for the doorway.

  Rob suddenly tore the arrow from John’s hands. They were fighting above me. John’s legs were right in front of me, inches from my face. I grabbed him around the knees and pushed with all my might. He went down like a falling tree, dropping to one side, when Rob stabbed forward with the arrow.

  I flailed around behind me and found the hoe. When Robin leaned over John, preparing to stab him, I circled the hoe over my head and brought it crashing against the side of Rob’s face. He spun backward, the arrow flying from his grip. Dust rose up in thick clouds when he slammed into the wall before he spun again, hitting the remaining intact window and sending fragments showering over us. Rob dropped face forward, his legs buckling and his body landing heavily on Richard’s.

  I sprang to my feet and leaned over John. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, blood running from a cut on his swollen lip. “Fine. Get help.”

  I headed for the door.

  ****

  A week later, I broke my rule and opened the Pub at noon. It was the least I could do. Our loss was so staggering I felt it deserved at least one private drink for us to encompass it all.

  I set the portraits at the end of the bar, each in front of an empty barstool. First the dead: Will. Rob. Marianne. PJ. Richard. Guy. Although PJ was not directly part of Rob’s craziness, it wasn’t for lack of trying on Rob’s part. I hoped the last two would rot in hell, but I included them for closure as much as anything. They died in the melee that was Rob Huntington’s schizophrenic life and I guess they deserved to be acknowledged.

  I straightened Rob’s picture. He smiled into the camera, his hair mussed, and his eyes guileless. Who knew this man led a double life? We all trusted him, we all felt sorry for him. We had no idea he salted away two million dollars in a secret bank account. We didn’t know he forged and stole from PJ for years. No one guessed what he was capable of, from murder to home invasion to murder again. Rob seemed like a hapless fool, but we were the fools, not him. There was a monster near us, a monster that lurked, the monster held in check by medication.

  Rob walked a fine line all his life and no one knew how close he was to falling off without medication to keep him balanced. Now he was in a high security mental hospital awaiting evaluation. He’d probably stay there or in a similar institution for the rest of his life.

  I raised my glass of Friar’s Folly, Rob’s favorite beer. Alan, Miller, Lee, Isabel, John, and the others who gathered all did the same.

  “To lives snuffed out before their time,” I said.

  “Hear, hear.” Alan sipped then set his glass on the counter.

  Guy’s picture fell over. “Karma?” I asked..

  “We can hope.” Alan regarded Isabel, who was talking with Miller. “I’m surprised Eleanor didn’t kick up more of a fuss when Isabel told her she was going to apprentice as a chef with me.”

  “I think the old woman is in shock,” Lee said. “With both Richard and PJ dead, there’s no one left to run the company. I expect PJ’s son will learn some harsh lessons very quickly.”

  “Let’s hope Three doesn’t turn out like PJ,” I said fervently.

  “He might surprise Eleanor. Shutting down the factory and giving the employees a good severance package went a long way to settling the bad feelings in town.” Alan looked past me to John, who stood behind me. “I still can’t believe you guys were almost killed by him. We’re lucky to have you still with us.”

  John smiled at me. “You saved my life. You’re no bigger than a gnat. How’d you do that? How’d you knock me over?”

  “A gnat can drive a bull to distraction. It just has to know where to push.”

  John’s eyes met mine and I swear I saw an invitation there. “I’m willing to be distracted.”

  I smiled in return and raised my glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

  A word about the author…

  J L Wilson is a Midwestern author who writers “mystery with a touch of romance, romance with a touch of gray.”

  She can found out and about the Interwebs at her web site (www.jayellwilson.com) or Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/jayeAtPlay).

  Check her character list to see who's who in this book (and other Remembered Classics): http://bit.ly/character_lists.

  Other Remembered Classics from The Wild Rose Press
are Dogged, Flyer, and Laked.

  She has several other books with the Wild Rose Press

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

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  please visit our on-line bookstore.

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and other major retailers

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