Mudcat

by John Quick

  Carrie fished her bank card out of her pocket and handed it over, mercifully sparing Jake any more withering glances. She simply punched the buttons on the little keypad to finish the transaction, took the receipt, and then waited for him to collect his bag of items.

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  She nodded and headed for the doors. He paused just inside the entrance, trying to work up the nerve to go back out into that maelstrom and hike back to his house. She stopped with her hand on the door and turned back to him, one eyebrow raised.

  “Well, come on,” she said. “Unless you want to walk home in this. Either way, I’m leaving.”

  He blinked, suddenly understanding that not only was she buying his stuff for him, she was also offering to drive him home. Considering the way their last conversation had gone, he never would have imagined her being this charitable, but he sure wasn’t going to turn it down, no matter how strange he felt it was. He quickly got himself in gear and followed to her little Kia sitting almost directly in front of the store.

  Once she was on the main road, he finally found his voice.

  “Seriously, thanks,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there. I don’t know how I can make you understand just how much I appreciate this.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, not daring to take her eyes off the road. She was already having to drive less than half the already-minimal posted speed limit. When Jake looked for himself, he could barely see more than six inches in front of the car’s hood. “It is kind of my fault in the first place that you had to get soaked just for beer and cigarettes.”

  She chanced one brief glance at him, and he could see what he thought was shame creeping across her face. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I’ve never liked that Fordham bitch, and I kind of overreacted a bit when I saw you two at the house alone.”

  “But there was nothing going on between us,” Jake said, the familiar defensiveness creeping to the surface in spite of himself. “Brandon was the one trying to get into her pants, I told you that.”

  “I know,” she said, returning her attention to the road just in time to hit a depression and send water shooting almost as high as the car’s roof as she plowed through it. “Jennifer Young told me, too, a couple of days later, once I was calmed down enough to actually listen and comprehend what she was saying. If it helps, I felt like complete shit and just didn’t know what to say to you after that.”

  He shrugged. “I get it. It’s not like I’m the town’s favorite son or anything. Cheating would be right in line with everything else.”

  “That’s bullshit,” she shot back. “Didn’t you always say that all that shit you got in trouble for over the years was Brandon’s fault, and you just ended up holding the bag for it?”

  “Yeah, but….”

  “Yeah, but nothing,” she said. “You always had a reputation as a troublemaker, but I’d never heard anyone say anything about you being unfaithful to the girls you’d dated before me. Your good buddy Brandon was the one known for sticking his dick in anything that batted their eyelashes at him. I was having a shitty day, but that’s no excuse. I should’ve trusted you more, but I didn’t, so I flew off the fucking handle and blamed you for something you didn’t do.”

  She glanced over at him again and he saw that her eyes were moist, like she was on the verge of tears. “I really am sorry for that. I’ll even pay for the tires. The way I see it, buying you a pack of cigarettes and a six-pack is the least I can do.”

  He smiled, and the roar of rainwater hitting the roof of the car seemed to slow a bit, as though nature itself was approving of her gesture. He glanced out the window and blinked, finally realizing that the road she was currently driving on led to her house, not his.

  “Not trying to change the subject or anything,” he said. “But I don’t live this way.”

  “I know,” she said. “Missus Granger down the road called and asked me to pick up some batteries for her lanterns in case the power goes out. Since I needed to pick up a working flashlight, too, I agreed. I’m just going to run them by for her so she doesn’t worry too much, then I’ll run you home. Is that okay?”

  It was more than okay, especially considering how well things were going between them, but he didn’t want to appear too eager. “Yeah, no problem. That’s the one that lost her husband last year, right?”

  He saw the hint of a smile tug at her lips. “You remembered that?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Old man Granger was the only one in town that didn’t think I was a complete fuck-up, ever since that time I helped him fix his barn after the termites got into it my senior year. Every time someone would mention one of the shitty things I’d been caught doing, he’d just say ‘let young folks do their thing and keep yer damn nose out of it’, and that was that.”

  Carrie chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that, but he did stand up for you, didn’t he? Did you know I once caught him staring at me while I was laying out one day?”

  “No shit?”

  “Funniest shit ever,” she said, laughing a little. “I guess he was out working in the field between our houses. I didn’t even know he was there until I heard Missus Granger yelling at him and calling him a dirty old pervert.”

  “She caught him doing it?”

  “Sure as shit did,” Carrie agreed. “It was too funny for me to even feel creeped out by it. Besides, he was harmless. If looking at me in my bikini was all it took to give him a thrill, so be it. It’s not like he would’ve come across the fence and groped me or anything.”

  Jake snickered. “I would’ve.”

  He realized what he’d said as soon as the words left his mouth, and felt his cheeks go hot again. He glanced over and saw Carrie did not look upset or offended by it, though. If anything, she looked amused.

  “Perv,” she said, but the playful tone in her voice took the edge off the insult. She glanced over to him again. “I knew there was something wrong with you the minute I….”

  “Look out!” he yelled.

  She jerked her attention back to the road just in time to see that the ditches on either side had overflowed, creating what looked like a decent-sized pond in the middle of the street. Why Jake hadn’t even thought to watch for something like that, being that this street ran parallel to the lake, he didn’t know; still, it seemed to be par for the course for him today.

  Carrie started to slam on the brakes, but was too late. The front tires hit the water and immediately lost traction, even with the slow speed she was traveling at. The car fishtailed wildly before finally righting itself and plowing into the deeper water near the opposite side of the road. Water splashed up over the hood with a tremendous crash and hit the windshield hard enough to knock the wipers off track. The engine died at once, and steam began to drift up from around the seals of the hood.

  “Are you okay?” Jake asked, fighting against the seatbelt that had locked over his chest from the impact.

  Carrie didn’t answer, was too involved in staring with something akin to panic at the colorful array of idiot lights that had flashed up across her console. Jake had time to recognize the oil pressure warning and the check engine light before they flickered and went dim.

  “Oh fuck,” Carrie said. “No, no, no, don’t fucking do this to me!”

  She turned the key off, counted silently to ten, and then tried to start the car again. Nothing happened. Jake reached up and hit the switch to turn on the reading lamp, but it remained dark as well.

  “I think your battery got shorted out,” he said. “Hopefully that’s the worst of it, and when everything dries you can just get a jump start and it’ll fire right up.”

  She looked over to him, hope blossoming in her eyes. “You think so?”

  He honestly didn’t, was convinced that the battery would need to be replaced, as well as the alternator and starter, if the whole damn engine hadn’t hydro-locked as soon as the intake started sucking up water instead of air, bu
t he didn’t want to say so. Not right now, not when things had been going so well.

  “Maybe,” he said, offering a helpless shrug. “That’s the best-case scenario at least.”

  “Worst case being the car’s fucked.”

  He didn’t see the need to respond to that, and thankfully she didn’t press. Either she’d taken his silence as answer enough, or she wanted to hold onto that small thread of hope.

  “What now?” he asked.

  Carrie sighed. “We’re not that far from the house. I’ll call Missus Granger when we get there and let her know what happened. Then I guess I’ll call for a tow truck to get the car out of the middle of the road before somebody hits it. I guess it’s going to be a while before you make it home.”

  He could care less about that, was more concerned about the first part of what she’d said. He was sure he knew what she meant, but some part of him wanted to hear her say it. “‘We’re not that far from the house.’ And how are we getting there?”

  She grabbed her little bag from the store, tucked it into her jacket, and zipped it closed before turning to look at him with a humorless smile on her face. “Congratulations, you’re about to get me wet. Looks like we’re walking.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Thankfully, both Andy and Steph’s cars were parked in front of the police station when Rob returned. Even better, the rain had let up, if only slightly. He wished it wasn’t the only good news he’d had today, but after searching all morning for some sign of Annie Fordham or Brandon Snyder, he had nothing to show for his work other than severe discomfort from wandering around in soaked clothes. True, he did have something resembling a date with Leanne later tonight, but if he couldn’t figure something out on this missing person’s case, he wouldn’t feel right about keeping it. Maybe now that two of his four other officers were here, they could all put their heads together and come up with an idea. If he had to, he could always call in Dwayne and Pete, the two overnighters, but considering how bad the roads were starting to get, he figured they’d be pulling enough overtime in the days to come. For now he’d just let them rest, and hope that if the need to call them in early arose, they’d actually be able to get there without having to rent boats.

  He took his time and made sure he gathered everything he needed from the truck before heading into the station. There was no need to rush the way he’d done this morning; the damage was already done. It couldn’t get that much worse.

  Charlene looked up as he came through the doors and gave him a sympathetic smile before holding up another sheet of paper where she’d scribbled notes for him. He groaned and stopped next to her desk.

  “Just tell me,” he said. “If I touch that, it’ll wind up too soaked through to read.”

  “Boyd over at Public Works called,” she said. “He’s getting reports that the water levels in the rivers are already higher than he’s happy with. Said if the rain keeps up like this the rest of the day, they’ll be overflowing their banks by morning. Wanted to know if he needs to have some guys on standby tonight, monitoring road conditions so they can close them down once they get too bad.”

  He knew this was coming, but he hoped he’d have a little longer before he had to worry about it. This day was rapidly sliding from bad to worse, and it was barely going on noon. “Call him back and tell him yes. He needs to focus on any roads running next to the rivers or the lake, but also keep an eye on any of the others that normally tend to fill up during storms. He knows the ones.”

  “No luck finding Annie, I take it?”

  “You take it right,” he admitted. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. It was starting to get a bit shaggier than he liked, and while he meant to grab a haircut days ago, he’d just been too busy to bother with it. “How many times has her daddy called since he first reported it?”

  “Six,” she said, wincing for him. “He demanded to speak to the chief, and wasn’t too happy when I told him the chief was on vacation and you were the one in charge.”

  “Glad to know everyone’s got such faith in me,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’ll dry off a bit, get Andy and Steph out looking, then call him myself before I head back out.”

  “Can’t hurt,” she replied. “Hell of a first day, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he said glumly. “Almost makes me terrified what the rest of this week has in store, not to mention next week, too.”

  “Chief Williams offered to stick around.”

  Rob gave her a curious look. “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

  She gave him a look of mock-offense. “I would never do anything like that. But Bruce’s voice does tend to carry, so who could blame me for overhearing on accident?”

  Rob snorted a brief laugh. “Well, if you happen to ‘accidentally overhear’ anything about where Annie or Brandon Snyder might be hiding, you be sure and let me know, okay?”

  “Will do, boss,” she replied, smiling.

  He couldn’t help but smile back, and was amazed to discover he actually felt a little better. He made his way back to the break room where he could hear Andy Neville and Steph Turner talking to one another quietly.

  Steph stood up quickly when he entered the break room, a contrite look on her face. “Hey, Rob… Chief. Sorry I was so late this morning. The rain and all….”

  He waved a hand at her as he crossed over to the coffee pot. “Don’t worry about it. I was a little late myself.”

  “See?” Andy said. “Told you he wouldn’t be mad.”

  Rob wasn’t sure, but he thought that was confirmation that he had been the subject of the conversation before he walked in. He knew that cops gossiped—hell, he’d been a part of it himself from time to time—but it was strange to think that now he was one of the topics. Realistically he knew he probably had been before. The Chief had all but told him that everyone on the force was rooting for him and Leanne to move past what he called “the butt-sniffing stage” and get on with it. Still, this was the first time he’d walked into a room and seen the conversation change. It was a little disconcerting.

  He picked up the coffee pot and glanced into it, frowning. “Who made this?”

  “I did,” Andy said. “Should still be pretty fresh, I put it on less than an hour ago.”

  Rob poured some into a Styrofoam cup, wincing as it came out roughly the same consistency as the oil in his truck had the last time he changed it. He glanced over in time to see Steph hide the smile on her face with a hand before she sat back down at the table across from Andy, who was still watching him expectantly. Rob sighed and took a quick sip to try and determine how much cream and sugar it would take to make it even possible to drink. That single sip was enough to let him know that nothing he could do would make this palatable. He fought down his gag reflex and turned to look at Andy.

  “Either this is a joke, you’re trying to poison me, or you’ve somehow managed to get worse at making coffee than you were before.”

  Steph snickered, and Andy’s face fell slightly. “Aw, come on. It’s not that bad.”

  Rob held the cup up before him and stuck a finger in. When he drew it back, the coffee had clung to his skin, flowing down it like syrup before dripping back into the rest of the liquid with heavy plopping sounds. Andy sighed.

  “Okay, so it’s a little strong.”

  Rob shook his head. “I don’t know whether to try and drink it or taze it into submission first.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Andy said, turning back to glower at the smile etched onto Steph’s face. “My wife doesn’t like my coffee, either.”

  Rob chuckled as he dumped the partial cup and the rest of what was in the pot down the sink and started to make a fresh batch.

  “Charlene said Annie Fordham’s missing,” Steph said, her voice still holding a trace of residual humor but rapidly moving back into the “official” range again. “Any luck with that yet?”

  “Yeah,” Rob said as he filled the pot and poured it into the back of the coffee maker. “All b
ad. I was able to pretty much confirm that she was out with Brandon Snyder, and that he sometimes likes to take girls somewhere out by the lake, but that’s about it. Foley said he uses some old abandoned service road, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “Actually,” Andy said. “I might. I went fishing with Snyder and his dad once, years ago. He used this old gravel road that led out to what he called his ‘secret spot’ or something like that. It’s been a while, but I might could find it again. Want me to give it a shot?”

  Rob paused in the act of dumping fresh coffee into a filter and looked over at him. “Hell yes, I want you to give it a shot. I’m pretty sure they were in Snyder’s car, so keep an eye out for it on the way. Most likely they left town together and holed up in some motel over in Lewisburg, then lost track of time, but anything we can do is better than doing nothing.”

  “You got it,” Andy said, grabbing his hat from the table and standing up. “I’ll report in as soon as I find anything, even if I don’t find nothing.”

  “You want me to call Lewisburg PD?” Steph asked. “Have them take a look around and see if they spot him anywhere? Normally they probably wouldn’t care, but with her being underage and all….”

  Rob considered, then shook his head. “No, I’ll get Charlene to do that. I need you to go touch base with Boyd over at Public Works, then start checking roads for flood conditions. You find any that are too bad, give me a shout and let me know if you think we should close them down. If I agree with your assessment, I’ll want you to coordinate with Boyd on getting it done.”

  She nodded and stepped close enough to speak without being overheard. “Don’t let anybody rattle you. You’ll do just fine in the big chair, just wait and see.”

  “Thanks,” he murmured.

  He watched her leave the break room with Andy, and wished that he could share her confidence.

  CHAPTER SEVEN