Stutter Creek (11 page)

The drugged boy never uttered a word. He curled up in a ball and went to sleep immediately.

Leaving the Ford sheltered in the stand of trees, Kurt had then driven Sherylyn’s SUV a few miles past the street where she lived. He’d scouted the area thoroughly the day before. He knew all about the abandoned gravel pit just outside the city limits of the sprawling suburb.

It was there that he finally gave in to the raging desire that had been building inside him since the moment the doomed girl had pulled over to check on Danny. He’d never wanted a warm body nearly as much as he wanted this cooling one. Maybe it was the fact that her name was so similar to his dead wife’s. Or perhaps it was because he’d been stroking her blond hair the entire time he’d been driving.

When he stopped at the gravel pit, Kurt made certain Danny was still passed out before he went around to the passenger side and pulled his victim onto the front seat.

He didn’t even mind that her face was all bruised and bloated from choking to death on the wad of tape. He unzipped his filthy jeans and shoved himself into Sherylyn’s mouth. When he struck the spiky ball of tape still wedged in her throat, he groaned with pleasure. The pain was exquisite. Kurt shut his eyes and grimaced as the orgasm shook him. He thought he’d had sex before; he thought he’d climaxed, but even with the help of coke or meth there was no comparison. Spoiled, he thought, as the spasm subsided. Spoiled for sure, now.

He wished he had some place to store her; he really wanted to experiment. No time, though. He zipped his fly and kissed the dead girl on the forehead.

Then he dragged Sherylyn’s body to the lip of the old pit and pushed her over. Afterward, he stripped a few branches off the nearest sage bush and tossed them down to cover her. He also used one of the branches to sweep away his tracks as he hurried back to the SUV. He’d seen that maneuver in an old western movie when he was a kid.

He felt so smart when he drove her SUV to the meanest section of town and made a show of locking it up tight. He knew it would be stripped before morning. No one would report it as abandoned. In fact, once they found that the keys were in the ignition, someone would have a high old time joyriding until the gas ran out. Or, if he was really lucky, a pro would find it and the pieces would be across the border before the sun rose.

It was quite a long walk back to the old Ford, but he couldn’t risk leaving it there. His buddy, Dave, might sober up long enough to remember who had it.

On the way back to the Ford, when he wasn’t pulling Danny by his “leash” or luring him along with a bottle of Pepsi like a carrot on a stick, Kurt went through Sherylyn’s purse. First, he took the cash, just a few bucks, and then he took his first real treasure: her Wal-Mart nametag. He couldn’t wait to start his collection and add to it. He kept his short list of five names in his pocket along with his “work” gloves.

He stuck the nametag in the same pocket. Later, he would separate them. He didn’t want his treasures falling out the next time he needed his gloves.

The rest of her things he tossed into storm drains and dumpsters along the way. Kurt had been tempted to use the credit cards, especially the ATM card, but he’d watched too many crime movies while in prison. He knew ATM’s had hidden cameras, and he knew credit cards left paper trails. He wasn’t stupid.

The purse, itself, went into an empty field. Let the coyotes eat the leather, he thought. Then he began to enjoy the moonless walk. The air was fragrant with dark hope; he felt as if fate had smiled on him for the first time in his sorry life.

Even the things he hadn’t planned had worked out in his favor—like the absence of a moon; like the fact that Sherylyn was off for the next two days. No one would raise an alarm for at least two days, maybe even three. By then, the animals and the elements would be well on the way to disguising her identity. Kurt began to hum Brahms Lullaby. His blonde girl was sleeping; with luck, she wouldn’t be disturbed for quite some time.

The cool night air agreed with him. He actually surprised himself when he picked Danny up and carried him for a while after the boy had stumbled for the third or fourth time. Couldn’t leave the kid behind in the open. That was the one thing they could definitely trace back to him. But he wasn’t ready to get rid of him, yet. He was proving to be quite a nice accomplice.

He licked his lips, savoring the small cuts he felt there. Now he could begin to think about the second name on his list, Amanda Myers.

Chapter Fourteen

Beth couldn’t sit still. After her “conversation” with her father, she had to get out and do something. She decided to drive into the tiny village of Stutter Creek and see if she could pick up a signal along the way. She really needed to talk to someone, preferably Cindy. She was also eager to check out the old drugstore. It was the one place they’d always visited on their trips to the cabin.

As she pulled on her jacket, she glanced out the window at her car. Better fill up with gas while I’m there, she thought. She grabbed her purse and locked the door securely as she went out.

She was rubbing the old skeleton key, thinking of all the things her dad had said, when out of nowhere she heard the sound of an animal crashing through the brush again.

Just like a scream-queen in a horror movie, Beth accidentally dropped the keys in the dirt before she could get the car door open. So she turned and ran. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but in the back of her mind was the irrational thought that she’d be safer off the ground, up a tree.

She didn’t make it.

The animal was upon her before she’d gotten completely turned around.

“Hey!” she yelled, when she realized it was a dog and not a bear. “Get off me you big bully!”

She couldn’t believe the huge mutt actually had her forearm in his jaws.

But Beth didn’t have time to register fear. The situation was just too ridiculous.

“I said, let go!” She yanked her arm free of the loose grip of the huge jaws. Her jacket sleeve was gummy with slobber.

“Yuck!” She shook her arm to get rid of the drool. “That was totally uncalled for.”

At last, Beth realized how tremendously huge the dog was. When he sat down at her feet, his head came up to her chest. If he had stood on his hind legs, he would have dwarfed her.

Now that the adrenalin rush was over, and she realized how easily he could have really hurt her, Beth’s bones turned to mush and she actually put her arm across the dog’s shoulders for support.

“You scared me half to death,” she said. “Where’s your owner?” She tried to read the tag on the woven collar, but the dog wouldn’t allow it. He shook his head comically every time she grasped it.

“What?” she asked. “Are you travelling ‘indognito’ or something?”

Another wag of the tail convinced her she was right. But she was so taken by his doggy grin that she cautiously walked back to her car, retrieved her keys, which he seemed very curious about, and went back inside the cabin for a doggy bribe.

Beth was not surprised when the dog accompanied her to the door and stopped. However, she also wouldn’t have been surprised if he had followed her inside and made himself at home. He acted as if he belonged there.

All she could find in the way of doggy treats was an unopened package of Oscar Meyer Wieners.

He liked them just fine; in fact, she quickly discovered that he would do almost anything for a hot dog. By the third one, he was on his back and she was rubbing his belly. She wondered what had caused the mass of scar tissue on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem too sensitive about it.

After the fourth hot dog, there was no turning back. She tried to read his tag again, but he still twisted away when she touched his collar. Beth thought it wise not to push her luck.

For just a second, she wondered if the dog could possibly have anything to do with the spirit of her father. She’d always been intrigued by the idea of reincarnation, but after a few minutes, she knew it couldn’t be true. This dog was so goofy he would definitely have been a comedian in another life. On the other hand, her father did love to goof around. Nah, she thought. That’s even more ridiculous than the texting.

Finally, after the sixth hot dog, the big mutt suddenly shot to his feet, ears at attention, and cocked his head to one side as though he needed to concentrate on a sound. Then, before she could even react, he was gone. He’d cleared the porch, the steps, and the circle drive in three leaps.

“Hey,” she called after him. “It’s not nice to eat and run!”

She went back inside, washed her hands, and decided to go on into town. At least now I know what made the gosh-awful racket crashing through the woods and running around on the porch. Better get some dog biscuits, though, she thought, smiling. Hot dogs might get expensive. She was pretty sure she’d see the big galoof again. At least she certainly hoped so.

She didn’t see the dog anywhere when she pulled out of the drive, but she was certain he lived nearby. If he had been a stray, his coat would have been matted and he would’ve eaten ALL the hotdogs whether she offered them, or not.

There were no more distractions. Beth actually began to feel relieved, happy almost. She’d read more than one article that said dogs are good for the soul. They can supposedly help alleviate depression and anxiety, too. In the back of her mind, she was reiterating her earlier thoughts about visiting the Sandy Animal Shelter. Lots of animals need homes. If one didn’t find her when she got back, as they usually seemed to do, then she would just have to search them out on her own. It gave her something to look forward to. It had been quite a while since she had lost Ladybug.

Feeling better having made the decision to move forward with something, Beth relaxed and began to enjoy the drive. She’d always loved driving the Camaro. Maybe she had been a teenage boy in another life, she thought, laughing inwardly. Nothing like a good muscle car on an open road. The weather was grand, a beautiful late winter day. Beth rolled her window half way down and let the tangy fragrance of pine and snowy moisture drift through the little car. She wished her dad were here to share the ride.

“Dad?” she called out softly. “You there?”

No response.

She picked up the cell phone and checked for a signal or even a belated message.

Nothing.

The two-lane road was twisty with curves and hairpin turns. The tall pines crowded the road on both sides stippling the surface of the pavement in alternating patterns of sunlight and shadow. Driving required all her concentration. Only once did she let her mind drift back to the apparition of the little boy she thought she’d seen on the way to the cabin two days earlier. She still had no clue as to what she’d actually seen. The trooper had promised to contact her if he had any news.

Stutter Creek started and stopped, trickled and babbled, crossed beneath the road or ran alongside it all the way to town. The Drugstore was on the west side of the street. It still sported batwing doors and wooden sidewalks. A metal historical marker planted at the corner of the quaint business boasted that the old building had been in continuous use since 1867.

Beth parked in one of the slanted spaces on Main Street. There was a hitching post in front of the drugstore, and to the right of it, one could still make out the ancient circular marks where barrels of pickles had once stood.

She straightened her spine and pushed through the swinging doors. Her dad always pretended to be an outlaw stopping in for a drink when they came here. The historical marker said the building had served as the town’s saloon at one time. It still amazed her that she was walking on the very boards that Billy the Kid and Pat Garrett might have trod.

The teenage girl behind the long polished oak counter was petite and blonde. She smiled cheerfully at Beth. “Anything I can help you with?” she asked.

Beth ordered a Sarsaparilla from the soda fountain. She’d always splurged and ordered the old fashioned drink made with real syrup and soda water. Even now, she liked to watch the girl pull the pearl-colored handles on the antique fountain as she concocted the sweet, foamy drink. The little drugstore also served breakfast, plus a variety of sandwiches for lunch, and dinner.

When the waitress set the drink in front of her, Beth took a long pull from the straw and sighed, “Mmmm, just as good as always.”

“So, you’ve been here before?” the girl asked politely.

Beth nodded. “Last summer was the first one I’ve missed since I was a child. My dad has a . . .” She had to stop as she realized the cabin was now hers. “I mean I have a cabin a few miles away. We used to get up here two or three times a year.”

The girl was very astute. “Lost your dad, huh?” Her voice was sympathetic without sounding fake.

Beth nodded and took another pull on the straw. She didn’t trust her voice.

“So sorry to hear that,” the teenager said, extending her hand over the counter. “My name is Allie. I just came to work for my Uncle Joe here after I graduated last year. I’m from Pine River.”

Beth grasped her hand warmly over the counter. “And how is Uncle Joe?” she asked. “He used to give me a lollipop every time I came in here when I was younger.”

Allie laughed. “He still does that with kids.” Her face darkened perceptibly. “He’s getting up in years, you know. High blood pressure, diabetes.” She smiled a little. “He still comes in at least once a day to check up on me. I like to think I’m helping out. Aunt Martha is here most of the time, too. She walked over to the Post Office a few minutes ago.”

Just then an older couple came in and took a table near the back. There were only four tables in addition to the counter, so it wasn’t difficult for Beth and Allie to overhear their ongoing conversation.

“Such a shame,” the woman’s husband said. “Just not safe anywhere anymore.”

Allie was drawing glasses of ice water for the couple, obviously regulars, when her Aunt Martha came scurrying in the door waving a sheet of paper showing the black and white photo of a young woman.

“Look at this!” she blurted. Then she saw Beth and changed her tone as she grabbed her in a mini-bear hug. “Bethie, you poor girl. I heard about your dad and I am so sorry. He was always one of my favorite people.” She drew back a little, took hold of Beth’s chin and looked her over carefully. “So how are you doing? Huh? Why, I never saw a father and daughter as close as the two of you.”