Wuthering Frights

by Elise Sax

  “I’m going to have to talk to Boone,” I said. “Lay it all out. I’m getting nowhere in my investigating. I have to come out and ask him.”

  “Ask him if he’s a serial killer?” Nora said. “That’s going to be awkward.”

  “You want my grenade for when you talk to him?” Adele asked.

  Faye set up a grappling hook around a tree at the top of the ravine. She slipped on a harness and handed me another one. “I’ll go down first. Then, you follow me,” she said.

  Nora and Adele were searching the land up above, looking for hideouts and abducted girls. I put the harness on me, copying Faye.

  “This is really easy to do,” Faye told me and practically hopped over the edge. I ran to the edge, careful not to fall, and I watched her go down. She was like a professional climber. She was like James Bond. Down she went and was at the bottom in a couple minutes.

  “I’m not doing that,” I called down.

  “What?” Faye called up at me. Something caught her eye, and she bent down and picked it up. “A hair ribbon!” she called.

  A girl’s hair ribbon? Oh, no. A clue. There was a clue on Boone’s secret property. I clamped my harness to the rope and carefully climbed over the side. Faye had made it look easy, effortless. But it wasn’t easy, and it sure wasn’t effortless.

  I held tight to the rope and pressed my feet against the hill in order to brace my body on the way down. It was slow going because my feet kept slipping, and I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself with the rope.

  “My bad,” Faye called when I was halfway down. “It’s not a ribbon. It’s a twig.”

  “Are you kidding?” I complained and slipped, again. This time I couldn’t get my balance. I flipped upside down and slammed into the side of the hill with my foot. I heard something crack in my foot. And I felt it, too. I saw stars, and a wave of nausea hit me.

  “You can’t get down that way. You have to turn right side up,” Faye called after me.

  “I’m trying, but gravity doesn’t want me to.”

  When I finally made it down to the bottom, it was clear that I wasn’t going to get back up. I couldn’t put weight on my foot, and I was in a lot of pain.

  “I’ll call for an ambulance,” Faye said.

  “No, while we’re down here, first check it out. See if my fiancé is Ted Bundy.”

  Faye took off and came back about a half hour later. “All I saw was New Mexico shrubs, one snake, four rabbits, and three scorpions. No sign of anything nefarious. Maybe Boone is innocent. At least, I think we’ve reached a dead end.”

  My life during the past two days was all about dead ends.

  “You’re joking about the scorpions, right?” I asked, looking around the ground where I was sitting.

  Faye climbed back up to call for an ambulance and I waited down at the bottom, trying not to think about the pain in my foot.

  “Matilda? What are you doing here?”

  I looked up to see Boone walking toward me. For a moment, I thought I was seeing things, but my body warmed up as he approached. It was my normal reaction to him, so I knew that he was all real.

  “I fell,” I said.

  He stopped near me and put his hands on his hips. “Why did you fall here?”

  “I was grappling.”

  “You’re speaking English, but I think the words are in the wrong order. What do you mean, you were grappling?”

  Ugh. I hated it when people wanted me to tell the truth, especially when I was trying to come up with a good lie. “Faye, Adele, Nora, and I are seeing the sights. Going out in the wilderness. Faye saw three scorpions.”

  Boone arched an eyebrow. “This is a humdinger of a coincidence. I happen to own this patch of wilderness. Three hundred acres of it. What do you have to say about that?”

  “I say, I can’t believe you used humdinger in a sentence.” But what I was thinking was that three hundred acres was a lot of land to investigate, and I was sure that Faye only went over a fraction of that.

  “What about the coincidence?” Boone pushed. “You just happen to be on my land?”

  “When we’re married, it’ll be our land, right?”

  Boone smiled. “Good. We’re still talking about marriage. You have me worried, Matilda.”

  “Is everything okay down there?” Adele called down. I looked up. My three friends’ heads were hanging over the side staring at me and Boone. Faye was holding a hammer in her hand.

  “Just fine!” I yelled back and winced in pain.

  “Should we call an ambulance? Or maybe the Sheriff’s department?” Nora called.

  “Why do you need an ambulance?” Boone asked me. “And why do you need the Sheriff’s department?”

  “I might have broken something. Something in my body.”

  “I’ll take you to the hospital,” Boone said.

  “I can’t climb. And I don’t think I can walk.”

  “I’ll carry you,” he said and tilted his head up. “I’ll carry her! Go on home!” Boone yelled to my friends. I gave them the thumbs up.

  “Are you sure?” Adele yelled down.

  “Do you want my you-know-what?” Nora called, talking about her pepper spray, I assumed.

  “I’m fine!” I yelled back. Faced with Boone, I didn’t want to let him know that we were so sure he was a murderer that we brought weapons with us.

  My friends continued to look down at me, and I got the impression they were debating with themselves whether they should leave me or not. Boone was getting the same impression.

  “It’s all right,” he called. “I promise to get her to the hospital.”

  My friends didn’t go anywhere. Their heads were still sticking out over the edge like they were levitating. Boone emitted a frustrated grunt. Then, in one movement, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

  “This is dangerous. You could get a hernia,” I said.

  “I won’t get a hernia.”

  “But I’ve been eating a lot of carbs lately. It’s Tilly’s fault. She makes a mean macaroni and cheese. I can’t resist it. It’s got a crunchy top and a gooey, melty inside.” My stomach rumbled. I had forgotten to eat today, and my mouth was watering at the thought of Tilly’s macaroni and cheese.

  Instead of climbing up to where we parked, Boone walked in the opposite direction through the canyon. It occurred to me that he carried me easily, like maybe had experience carrying woman around.

  The blood was rushing to my head as I hung upside down. “Where are you taking me?”

  “The hospital. My truck is down a ways from here. So, you and your friends just happened to spend a morning in the wilderness that I own?”

  “Crazy, right? Truth is stranger than fiction. It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world.”

  Boone snorted. “Since you arrived in town, it’s gotten stranger and madder.”

  “I resent that. Are you going to talk to me like that when we’re married?”

  “Probably.” He had been lugging me across rough terrain for about a half mile, but he wasn’t out of breath in the least. I guessed dinosaur hunting was good cardio. “I’ve heard some weird things today.”

  “About the ghosts?”

  “No, something else.”

  “About the naked guy on the roof in the Plaza?”

  “No, something else.”

  “About the record-breaking walking guy who fought with Rocco in the street?”

  “No, something else.”

  “About the reality show covering Rocco and Mabel’s wedding?”

  “No. Unbelievably, something else. Hard to imagine there is something else, but there you go.”

  I give up,” I said. “I’m out. I’ve got nothing else that’s worth talking about.” Wow, I had become a great liar since moving to Goodnight.

  “Maybe you forgot. I’ll give you a hint. You’ve been going around town, asking about me.”

  The pain in my foot disappeared, and I could no longer feel the pressure in my head from being upside
down. Panic replaced both of those feelings. I tried to think up a good lie, but I was coming up blank.

  “It’s normal to inquire about a fiancé,” I said, finally. “That way I’ll know what meal to prepare for you for your birthday and what color sweater to knit for you in winter and what cable network I should subscribe to so you can watch your favorite shows.”

  Boone flipped me off his shoulder and caught me in his arms without losing a step.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Just checking that you’re Matilda. I thought that maybe I picked up the wrong woman.”

  “Of course it’s me.”

  “My favorite color sweater? Nah, I don’t think so.” Cradled in his arms like a baby, I had a good vantage point of his handsome face. I wondered how a killer could have such a handsome face. Then, I wondered how shallow I was to think that only ugly men could be killers.

  “I heard you were asking about me and Amy,” Boone continued.

  “Oh, that. Pure curiosity.”

  “Is that why you broke into my place in Albuquerque?”

  “What? What are you talking about?” I asked with my eyes closed because I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at me, as if he knew I was a liar. “I never broke into your place in Albuquerque. I didn’t even know that you had a place in Albuquerque. Is it nice?”

  “It’s very nice. It’s two stories, a pool in the backyard, and an alarm system with a video feed to my cellphone.”

  “A pool? That sounds nice.” I had missed the pool when I had broken into his house.

  “And an alarm system with a video feed to my cellphone,” Boone repeated, giving me a little shake.

  “Sometimes video isn’t reliable. I always look fatter in pictures. And now with Photoshop, you can’t trust any picture is real or not.”

  We finally made it to Boone’s truck. He opened the passenger door with one finger and sat me down inside. He leaned down and got in my face. “Matilda Dare, I know that you’ve been snooping. You went through my whole house. I didn’t look at the video until today. That’s probably how you knew about this property. You went to my university and asked about me, too. You even asked Charlene about me. What’s going on?”

  Our faces were inches apart. His expression was set in stone. He wasn’t going to let me off the hook. I had to fess up. I told him about Amy’s visit in the forest, and I told him about my suspicions and checking up on him. “But I’m sort of suspecting Amos, so I’m not only suspecting you,” I added with a smile.

  “You thought I was a serial killer?” he asked me, incredulous. He scratched his head and dropped down in a crouch.

  “I’m sorry. It’s my stupid, suspicious brain. Are you okay? Do you hate me now?”

  “No, I’m just worried that I’m a serial killer. You’re the Jessica Fletcher of Goodnight. You’re always right about the murderer. You’ve solved a bunch of whodunits since you got here.”

  He was right. “You’re right!” I said, a big weight lifting off my shoulders. “I’m the Jessica Fletcher of Goodnight. So, it wasn’t bad for me to suspect you. I’m probably right.” I paused, and we locked eyes. “But probably not. You’re not, are you?”

  “I’m not a serial killer. I’m not any kind of killer. Yes, I like to fish, and I’ve been known to hunt, but I’ve never abducted girls or murdered anyone.”

  I wanted to believe him so bad. I want to believe him, eat macaroni and cheese, and not have any broken bones. “How do I convince you that I’m not a psychotic killer?” he asked.

  “Tell me about finding Amy. How did you know she would be there?”

  “I looked for her for two days. It was hard because she never told anyone where she was going that day. We knew she had gone on some errands, but after that, it was a mystery. Finally, I let Mother Nature guide me.” He stuck his finger up and twirled it around. “Buzzards. They found her. I followed them.”

  His voice broke, and I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I heard that you used to date her,” I said softly.

  “Is that Jessica Fletcher talking to me right now? I dated Amy in high school. I also dated every single member of the cheerleading squad except for Laura Friedland. I also dated my Spanish teacher, and I flirted with my biology teacher.”

  “Are you joking?” I asked.

  Boone shrugged. “High school was a good time for me. Look, I loved Amy. She was a great lady. The best thing that ever happened to my asshole brother. I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t in love with her. I dig up dinosaur bones. That’s the extent of my malfeasance in life.”

  I so wanted to believe him. I wanted him to be innocent more than I ever wanted anything else in my life. He gently placed me on the passenger seat, then got in the car and started up the motor. He turned onto the road toward the hospital. “Now that we’ve worked out my innocence, can you solve the mystery of my missing clothes?” he asked.

  “Are you flirting with me? Is this foreplay?”

  Boone looked at me, with a hopeful expression on his face. “Could it be foreplay?”

  “Maybe after the hospital.”

  “All right. I wasn’t flirting. My clothes have gone missing. My favorite shirt and pants and two pair of shoes.”

  Boone parked in the parking lot. “Maybe Tilly was right. Maybe there’s a ghost,” I said.

  “If there is, he’s got great taste in clothes.”

  My toe was broken. The big one on my right foot. It took hours and hours at the hospital to finally see the ER doctor and get x-rays. When I finally did, they told me that I had a spiral fracture and that it would hurt like a bitch for weeks. They gave me a boot to wear on my foot and told me to take Tylenol. Boone drove me home and then left again to buy me ice cream and pizza rolls, since I hadn’t eaten all day.

  By the time I walked through the gate at the house, the Gazette office was closed, Silas had already taken his bath and left, and Tilly was fast asleep on the couch. I expected the dogs to jump all over me, because they hadn’t eaten their dinner, but there was no sign of them.

  I called for them, and I heard them whimpering in the bathroom. The door was closed, and I opened it, finding them. “What are you doing in here?” I asked. “How did you lock yourself in.”

  As soon as I freed them, they ran outside to pee, and I went to the pantry to fill their bowls with dog food.

  “I hate dogs,” I heard, and I whipped around to find a man standing there.

  Not just any man.

  My husband.

  Somehow, he had gotten out of prison, and he was standing in my pantry, eating a box of chocolates and wearing Boone’s favorite shirt and pants.

  Part III: Rockwell Moves In, and Matilda is Blamed for Everything

  Temp Employee Gets Six Months for Clogging Toilets

  by Silas Miller

  An Albuquerque man was sentenced today to six months in prison for clogging Goodnight toilets while he was here as a temporary worker. Joe Jones was found guilty of clogging 26 toilets at his place of work, the Happiness Project.

  “The first time it happened, I was shocked. There was a plastic bottle shoved in the ladies’ toilet, and the water was flowing everywhere, but then it was happening every week. After a while, I was surprised when the toilet wasn’t clogged,” Maria Lopez, the chakra manager at the Happiness Project, said.

  After the tenth time the toilet was clogged, the Goodnight Sheriff’s department was called in. “It took some sleuthing, but Amos found the culprit. He scoped out the Happiness Project and found Mr. Jones digging through the dumpster, looking for water bottles. That sealed his fate,” Deputy Sheriff Adam Beatman said about Sheriff Amos Goodnight. Sheriff Goodnight could not be reached for comment.

  As for Mr. Jones’s motivation for clogging toilets, he says he doesn’t know. “Sometimes I get an urge to do something stupid,” he explained to the judge in his case. “Like digging through the trash for bottles and sticking them in toilets.”

  Chapter 9

  I could have
sworn that my heart stopped beating. I was sucking air, but none seemed to get into my lungs. My eyes blinked rapidly, and my knees buckled. I fell backward and landed on the bag of dog food. I literally rubbed my eyes because I was sure that I was seeing things. I half-convinced myself that low blood sugar was giving me hallucinations.

  And what kind of hallucinations! The worst kind. The murderous ex-husband kind. The last time I had seen Rockwell Dare, I was testifying against him in court. He was a murderer. He had tried to kill me, too. He had married me to lock in an inheritance that required him to stay married for five years. But he never wanted to be married to me. He was having an affair with a woman named Fanta.

  Together, they had decided to gaslight me, to put me away in an institution so that Rockwell could stay technically married but not have to deal with me. When Fanta’s husband found out about the scheme, Rockwell killed him, chopping him into little pieces. Meanwhile, I was put in a hospital, but my friend Gladie saved me. Rockwell wasn’t done, however. He came after us and tried to kill us.

  But the good guys won, and I was one of the good guys. Rockwell went to prison for life, and I got a surprise inheritance of my own and moved to Goodnight.

  My eyes flicked to the set of knives next to the stove. Could I get to them and grab one in time? If I screamed, would Boone hear me? No, he was at the grocery store, buying me pizza rolls. I should have never sent him off to buy food. Now, I was alone in the house with a convicted killer.

  Of course, Boone might have been a killer too, so maybe being alone was the best option for me.

  Rockwell finished the last piece of chocolate and tossed the box on the floor. “Your boyfriend has good taste in flowers, but the chocolate he sent you is no Godiva. You know what I mean?” he said.

  The ghost. Rockwell was obviously responsible for stealing stuff around town, and I shuddered to think about how long he had been here, spying on me.