Devil's Creek

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Devil's Creek Page 12

by Aaron Paul Lazar


  She let her eyes roam about the room, taking in the photos on the wall, on his desk. No pictures of kids or dogs. Maybe he was single. “Well. I sang in church a lot.”

  “Ah,” he said. “That explains it.”

  “Explains what?” Bristling, she sat up, pouting a little.

  “Why you are so well-trained. You sing beautifully, Grace.”

  Embarrassed at her prior reaction, she flushed. “Oh. Thank you. I love to sing.”

  “It shows.” He shuffled the papers again and sat back, folding his hands on his desk. “I’m selecting students for the roles tonight. And although this is rather unprecedented, I called you up here to discuss that. I want to offer you the part of Sandy, but I need to know a little more about your experience level, and also, if you’re up for the commitment. It’s a huge investment in your time.”

  She tilted her head. “How huge?”

  “Practice most nights for three months in a row. You’ll need to give up your evenings.” He stood and walked to the wall of photos, staring at them.

  “That’s okay. My class load isn’t too bad. I’m an art major.”

  He didn’t react, but continued to gaze at the photos.

  “Professor?” She rose and joined him at the wall.

  “Um. Yes?”

  “Who’s that girl you keep staring at?”

  He seemed to come out of his reverie, but before he turned to her, he kissed his fingertips and touched them to the corner of the gilt antique frame that held the photo of the woman dressed as Christine, in a production of The Phantom of the Opera.

  “She was my soul mate,” he whispered. “And her name was Caroline.”

  Chapter 34

  Anderson gazed at the young woman who stood before him, feeling like a fool. Why had he told her Caroline was his soul mate? With his luck, it would spread like wildfire across the campus. He could just hear the hallway whispers.

  “Did you hear about the poor professor with a broken heart, who hides himself away in his office and lives for the theater, where he spends his nights reminiscing about his tragic past?”

  He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Shuffling back to his desk, he tried to act normal. “Just forget it, okay?”

  Grace’s face had lit up, as if the secret knowledge were exhilarating. “Oh, my,” was all she could manage.

  When she just kept staring at him, Anderson said, “It was a long time ago. Sixteen years, to be exact.”

  “Did she jilt you at the altar?” Grace asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

  Anderson settled back into his chair, pretending to care about the stack of papers in front of him. “No.”

  Grace watched him, saying nothing.

  After an uncomfortable few minutes, he shifted in his seat. “Caroline didn’t leave me. She was taken.”

  “Taken?” Now Grace leaned forward, anticipating more. “Oh my God. By whom?”

  He wanted to say, “By a sick bastard who obsessed over her, who couldn’t leave us alone, who wanted to hurt us so badly we’d bleed from every pore and never recover.” He wanted to yell the name Hank Turner, screaming it to the Heavens and down to Hell, where he hoped the sick fuck lived in agony.

  Was Hank dead? He hoped so.

  If not, why hadn’t he come back to torture Anderson some more?

  And what the hell had he done with Caroline?

  The last time he’d seen her, he’d just kissed her briefly on the lips as they parted momentarily to prepare for a swim in Professor Gambino’s pool at the cast party. He’d touched her hand, smiled, and turned to walk to the car to fetch their bags.

  And yet, that last touch had been final. The final smile. The final kiss.

  He shuddered inside, trying to push the pain away. It still hurt, after all these years.

  He knew Hank must have killed her. After he did God-knows-what to her. Because if Caroline were still alive, she would have come to him. He knew it as well as he knew his name. She’d loved him. She would have come back.

  Anderson tented his fingers and took a deep breath. “We never found out for sure.”

  “What happened?” Grace said, her voice a low whisper.

  “Someone abducted her from a cast party we were at.” He pointed to the pictures on the wall, and Grace hopped up to study them again.

  “Oh, is that you with her in this picture? You look so young! Did you play Raoul in The Phantom of the Opera?”

  “Yes.” He pushed back in his chair, feeling like he was betraying Caroline somehow by talking about it. “She was taken that night. Disappeared off the face of the earth. No clues. No ‘official’ suspects.”

  She turned back to him, and he couldn’t help but notice the sweet empathy in her eyes. “But you suspected someone, didn’t you?”

  How had she known?

  He cleared his throat. “Well. Yeah. But the guy had an alibi. Water tight.”

  She warmed to the subject. “Maybe he had a partner in crime. Someone who took her for him, while he was making sure he had a solid alibi?”

  He gave her a sharp glance. That had been his precise theory. “Maybe.” He walked toward the coat rack. “I’m sorry I have to cut this short. But I’ve got to get home and finish up the casting assignments.”

  She bent to grab her backpack. “No worries. I’ve gotta go, anyway.”

  Although her words were casual, he knew she was still focused on the story of Caroline, because her eyes darted back and forth between him and the photos on the wall.

  “Please don’t tell anyone we discussed “Grease” tonight, Grace. You’ve got to act surprised tomorrow when you see the results posted on my door. Okay?”

  She gave him a heart-melting smile. “Of course, Professor Rockwell. I can play nice.” She winked at him, and sashayed out the door.

  Anderson stood for a long time, staring at the cast photos from The Phantom. There was Hank, dressed in his black outfit, wearing a wig and half-mask.

  Fury boiled in his chest.

  How had he gotten away with it?

  What had he done with Caroline?

  He thought back to the night, and imagined for the one billionth time what had happened.

  He had gone to the Toyota for their bags. He’d looked around the white van, seen nothing, and leaned down to unlock the trunk.

  Out of nowhere, a shadow had loomed up at him.

  Had Hank—or better yet, his accomplice—been crouched down on the other side of the Toyota? Probably.

  Anderson had been knocked unconscious with one blow. By the time anyone had noticed him in the dark street, basically lying in the gutter, it was too late.

  Had Caroline come outside to look for him? And was that when Hank—or his patsy—had taken her? Someone in the van had been lying in wait for his beloved.

  The police had narrowed her disappearance down to “some time that evening between eight and eleven.” Everyone remembered her coming into the party, and walking around in the beginning with him. But no one remembered anything after that.

  With so many kids, and so much commotion, nobody had paid attention to her movements.

  When he’d been found in the street by a fellow student, it was ten-thirty. The kid had assumed he was passed out, completely drunk. But as soon as he came to his senses, he remembered the attack.

  He’d combed the area, looking for Caroline. No one had seen her.

  The Toyota was still in its spot, so she hadn’t left. And even if she had wanted to leave, he thought with a dark laugh, she would have seen him lying there in the street.

  He’d called Sunny, just in case Caroline had headed home with someone else. But before he’d done so, his heart had squeezed with angst. Something had happened to her. He knew it.

  She wouldn’t just walk away.

  Chapter 35

  Grace walked hand-in-hand with her friend, Sal, to Professor Rockwell’s office door. A crowd queued before it, flashing iPhones. A wave of excited titters ran through the group, acco
mpanied by a chorus of disappointed grunts and sighs.

  Casually, she inched forward in the crowd. Someone let her in, and another girl with dyed black hair and several face piercings actually elbowed her.

  “Oh. Sorry, Sandy.” The girl pulled a snotty face at her.

  Grace realized that she was one of the singers who had tried out against her for the lead role. Miss Goth, as she had come to think of her, had really sung off key, and she had a nasty attitude as well.

  “It’s okay,” she said, as if she hadn’t picked up on the girl’s tone. “Oh my gosh, look!” She squealed high and loud, as if totally, completely, absolutely blown away by her name in the spot for Sandy. “Sal! I got in!” She hoped the professor was in his office, approving of her fake reaction.

  Sal, short for Salvatore, winked at her. “Not only did you get in, beautiful. But you’re gonna be the star of the show.” He scrutinized the list. “Oh my gosh. And look who got the part of Danny.” He pretended to faint against her. “It’s that gorgeous Alonzo from our still life painting class.”

  Grace smiled. “He’s a hunk.”

  Sal grinned. “Yeah. And I get to play Sonny, one of his pals.” He pointed to his name on the list. “All right!” He backed out of the crowd, pulling Grace behind him, dancing a jig beside her. “We’re in, baby. We’re in!”

  “We should celebrate,” she said, drawing him along the hallway. “Tonight. How about that little club in town? What’s it called again?”

  “Mister Sister’s?” he laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding. The gorilla who runs that place is way too smart to let us in.” He grinned at her. “Besides, I’ve tried four times with my fake ID already.”

  “Well, then, we’ll just have to make our own fun.” She hugged him to her side. “Maybe get high?”

  Sal pulled back. “Whoa. Wait a minute. You told me you were trying to stay straight.”

  “I was,” she said, eyes shining. “But just a little something wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

  “How about a six pack?” he offered, steering her toward their sculpting class.

  She made a face, then softened. ““You got someone who’ll buy? I’m of age, but my father knows the liquor store owner. He’ll report me if I ‘relapse’ and start drinking again.”

  “Yep. I’ve got a guy.”

  “Okay, I guess. Better than nothing. Let’s go up to the mountain, bring our sleeping bags, and drink until we fall asleep under the stars.”

  He huffed. “You’re such a romantic. But you know I hate the outdoors.” He gave a little shudder. “Too much Mother Nature for me. How about you come to my apartment, instead? We can watch movies with hunky guys in them and drool over those gorgeous males together. Or I can do your makeup.”

  “I don’t wear makeup.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Exactly my point.”

  She laughed and twirled him around. “All right. It’s a date.”

  ∞∞∞

  Anderson’s cell phone rang, surprising him from his reverie. He’d been thinking of Caroline again, wondering if she were watching him from Heaven. Could she see his daily activities? Did she know how much his heart still ached for her?

  “Professor Rockwell,” he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. “How can I help you?”

  There was a slight pause, and then a soft voice came on the line. “Anderson?”

  Even though it had been sixteen years, he knew who it was.

  Sunny, Caroline’s sweet hippy aunt.

  His heart wrenched when he heard her voice. “Sunny?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “I’m just down, Anderson. I’m getting old. I’m lonely. And you’re the only one around here who knew her. I still can see her, you know? Sitting across from me at the table with her beautiful, big brown eyes watching me.”

  “Sunny? Have you been drinking?”

  She laughed, as if he were the most ridiculous person on earth. “Why, yes, Anderson. Like I do every night.”

  “Want me to stop over?”

  She laughed and suddenly started to cry. “Yes,” she sobbed.

  “Be there in ten minutes.”

  “Anderson?”

  He stopped at the coatrack. “Yes?”

  “Pick up some more wine for me, would you?”

  He hesitated before giving in. “Sure. You still like red?”

  She cackled this time. “I like anything with alcohol in it. I don’t care what color, honey.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Five minutes later, outside the liquor store on Main Street, Anderson noticed Grace and her pal, Salvatore, standing on the corner as if waiting for someone.

  “Grace?” he said.

  She looked up nervously. “Oh! Hi.”

  Salvatore smiled at him. “Hey, Professor.”

  He stopped for a minute. “You two waiting for something?”

  They exchanged glances just as an older student came out of the store and headed in their direction with a six-pack under his arms. He stopped dead, veering across the street with his eyes downcast.

  “Seriously?” Anderson said. “You know you can’t do this and sing in a show, right?”

  Grace rolled her eyes and smiled. “It’s just this once, Professor. We’re celebrating.”

  Salvatore looked embarrassed and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  Anderson shrugged. “It’s not my business until you are in my production. But starting next Monday night, I don’t want to smell beer or anything else on either of you. You need your wits about you to do a professional job. Understood?”

  They both nodded meekly, and Grace touched his arm. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Okay. See you Monday.” He headed for the door of the shop, hoping he didn’t have any trouble with Grace. She seemed like a little spitfire, and he wasn’t sure he’d made the right choice.

  Would she be reliable? After all, she and the boy who’d play the male lead would be pivotal to the success of the production.

  Sighing, he decided to push the thoughts out of his mind, and focused on picking out a small bottle of red wine for Sunny.

  Chapter 36

  Sunny met him at the door in a flowing tie-died skirt and peasant blouse, looking as if she’d just stepped out of the sixties. Although her hair showed much more silver than sixteen years earlier, she still wore it long and curly down her back. Barefoot, she opened her arms for him and squeezed him tight.

  “Oh, Anderson. It’s so good to see you!” She leaned on him, as if savoring the human contact.

  He hugged her back, holding her at arm’s length. “Don’t you ever age?” he said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  She trilled a laugh and stepped back. “You’re a real bull artist, you are. But I love it.”

  She looked down at the bag in his hand. “For me?”

  He handed it to her. “You sure you haven’t had enough already?”

  She took the bag and danced back with a few unsteady steps. “What? Now you’re my old man?” Laughing, she beckoned him inside. “Come on. Loosen up a little.”

  She stopped in the kitchen, leaning on the counter to hold one hand to her head. “Whoa. Maybe I should slow down a bit.”

  He helped her to the living room and settled beside her on the couch.

  She leaned back, with eyes closed. “How did it come to this? How can this be real?”

  Anderson sighed. “I know. I ask myself the same thing every day. I just wish I could go back to that night. Get a do-over. You know?”

  Her eyes flew open. “I know! I think that all the time. ‘If only I’d called her after the show.’ ‘If only I’d stopped in to say hi.’ If only, if only… ”

  He leaned back against the couch, remembering how beautiful Caroline had looked sitting beside him on that very same couch the first night they’d kissed. “
Exactly.”

  She turned his face toward hers. “Anderson. You do look older. You look like hell.”

  “Thanks,” he chuckled. “No need to flatter me.”

  “No, really. Are you taking care of yourself?”

  Her big green eyes—albeit a tad blurry—opened wide with concern for him. “Let me make you a meal. I haven’t had anyone to cook for since… ”

  He smiled. “I loved those days. Coming back from practice with Caroline, sitting down for those late suppers with you. It was like—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Like coming home.”

  “I loved it, too,” she said.

  He wondered if she’d start weeping, but she held it together.

  “And I miss her so much,” she said, her voice trembling. “My little darling Caroline. So bright. So sweet. So beautiful.”

  “I was going to marry her,” Anderson said, taking Sunny’s hand in his. “I would have devoted my life to her.”

  Sunny squeezed his fingers. “I know, honey. I know.” She stood suddenly. “I always ask her, ‘What do you want me to do now?’”

  He waited for her to add more. “And what does she say?”

  “She doesn’t answer,” she said in a whisper. “But right now, I’m pretty sure she’d tell me to feed you. You’ve gotta put some meat back on those bones, boy.”

  He couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “Okay. But only if you let me help.”

  She agreed, and led him into the kitchen, where they cooked, ate, and sat talking about Caroline until midnight.

  Chapter 37

  “Bye. See you tomorrow.” Grace kissed Sal on the cheek at the end of rehearsal. They’d been at it for a week now, and the routine had become good for her. Except for that awful dance move she couldn’t master.

  “G’nite, beautiful,” Sal said, hugging her tight. “See you in the morning in Creative Drawing.”

  “Okay, hon.” She plopped back into her seat, gathering her things. But she didn’t get up to go. She just sat and stewed.

  When the room suddenly quieted, she realized everyone except the professor had left the auditorium.

  “Grace? Is something wrong?” Professor Rockwell sank down beside her.

 

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