Walleye Junction (29 page)

 

12

The ski resort's main restaurant had been refurbished since Emma had last been there. Outside the windows, the Whitefish Range blushed pink in the east and the dark silhouette of the ski lift hovered over the grass-covered slopes to the west. She found a table in the bar a discreet distance away from the entrance and hung her jacket and scarf on the back of a chair. She sat down and tried to relax. She'd counted on it being quiet in the off-season, but there was a wedding party staying at the resort and the bar was crowded. The cocktail waitress who eventually spotted her wove through the tables with a sour expression plastered to her face.

“What can I get you this evening?”

Emma ordered a glass of white wine from the menu.

“Anything to eat?”

“Maybe later. I'm waiting for someone.”

There was a shout and one of the bar stools crashed to the floor. The waitress said something Emma didn't catch.

“Pardon?” said Emma.

“Watch out for those guys,” the waitress said. “They've been drinking since noon.”

“Charming.”

“I hope you're not here for a quiet meal.”

Emma risked a quick glance at the bar. They were all big, bearded, and wearing oversized T-shirts. A couple wore ball caps. None were steady on their feet.

“It will be fine,” said Emma.

“Well, let me know if they give you any trouble. I'm looking for an excuse to chuck them out.”

Emma scrolled through her e-mails, taking occasional glances toward the bar and the double doors. Nathan was running late, but since she'd delayed their meeting four times she didn't feel she was in any position to complain. She pictured him sitting down to dinner with Cynthia. She'd be discussing the wedding while he was planning his escape. A shadow fell over her table. The man didn't wait for an invitation. He pulled out the empty chair and sat down.

Emma barely looked up from her phone. “That seat is taken.”

“I think you should come join us for a drink at the bar.”

“I'm waiting for someone.”

He turned and hollered to his friends. “She's waiting for someone. What do I do now?”

Emma answered for his friends but kept her voice low. “Your friends think you should go back to the bar and leave me alone.”

He tried to snatch her phone from her hands. “What's so interesting on that thing anyway?”

She glared at him. “I want you to leave.”

“I like it here.”

She grabbed her bag and he grabbed hold of her arm.

“Where you going?”

Emma pulled away. “Let go of me.”

One of his friends intervened. “Joe, what's wrong with you? Can't you take a hint? She's not interested.”

Joe let go of Emma's arm and turned to the window to sulk.

“Sorry about that,” said the second man. “He's had a bit too much to drink.”

“No harm done,” said Emma, leaving her glass of wine untouched. “I was just leaving.”

“It's getting dark. Can I walk you out to your car?”

Emma slipped on her coat. “Thank you, but I'll be fine on my own.”

*   *   *

Emma walked alone through the dimly lit parking lot clutching her car keys. A pickup truck was parked a few spaces away from her hatchback, but otherwise there were few cars. For a second she thought it might be Nathan's. As she drew near she saw the sign for Flathead Valley Security on the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that someone was sitting in the driver's seat. She turned at the sound of footsteps. The drunken man who'd come to her table had followed her outside. His arms were held up in a gesture of surrender. She told him to stay where he was. He thrust his thumb in the direction of the hotel bar.

“I was just awful … awful back there.” He staggered a few feet farther. “I need to apologize.”

Emma pulled her car door open. “That's not necessary. I'm fine.”

“Don't be that way. The guys gave me a hard time. I need to say sorry.”

“I don't need your apologies. I need you to get away from me.”

He lunged forward and grabbed hold of the door before she could shut it. He stunk of cigarettes and whiskey. His red face was inches away.

“Look, I just want to say…”

The man's head snapped to the side and for a brief moment, he slumped into Emma's lap before an arm locked around his neck and he was dragged away.

Emma stumbled out of the car after him. At first she couldn't understand what she was seeing. The man was facedown on the pavement. Kyle Miller stood over him kicking him again and again. His blond hair had fallen across his eyes and his mouth held a determined line.

“Kyle?” said Emma. “Stop it! That's enough!”

Breathing heavily, Kyle backed off. Blood poured out of his nose. He wiped it with his sleeve before rounding on the man again. He tried to swing his leg forward, but Emma caught Kyle by the arm and pulled him away. Kyle spit up a stream of blood.

“You're hurt,” said Emma, leading him to her car.

Kyle pinched his nose. “It's nothing. The asshole caught me with his elbow.”

Emma popped open her trunk and grabbed a roll of gauze from a first aid kit. She held it up to Kyle's nose.

“I can do that,” he said.

“He just wouldn't take no for an answer,” she said, checking to make sure the man was still lying prone on the pavement. “I don't want to think what would have happened if you hadn't come along.”

“He's just some stupid drunk.”

Emma shook her head. “I used to think Walleye Junction was the safest place on earth.”

“By most standards it still is,” Kyle said, tilting his head forward. Blood puddled beneath him. “Didn't you used to live in Chicago?”

Emma barely said yes.

“Well, Walleye Junction is like a trip to Disneyland compared to a city like that.”

Emma tried to have a closer look at Kyle's face. “You should have that checked out. It looks broken.”

“Emma, it's only a nosebleed.”

“You can never be too careful.”

Kyle pulled the gauze away. “Look, it's stopped bleeding. I'm fine.”

Emma risked walking closer to the man who'd followed her out into the parking lot. He was lying quite still on the asphalt. She nudged him with her foot and he rolled to the side and moaned.

“We should get out of here before someone comes outside,” said Emma.

“I haven't done anything wrong,” said Kyle. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Kyle leaned against the side of her car and she joined him.

“I wasn't expecting that from you,” she said, gesturing to the man.

“How do you mean?”

“You're a guy who used to spend all his time hiding out in the library. I've never seen this side of you. You beat the crap out of him.”

He hesitated. “That makes two of us.”

“Not your usual MO?”

“Far from it. I don't know what came over me. One minute I was writing an e-mail and the next I was pulling him off you.”

The man on the ground moaned and Kyle told him to shut up. Headlights swept across the dark parking lot. A pickup truck sped toward them, coming to a stop a few yards away. Kyle tilted his chin.

“It's your boyfriend coming to the rescue.”

“Nathan isn't my boyfriend,” said Emma.

“I hear he's told Cynthia he's having second thoughts.”

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“I think you'll find that it has everything to do with you,” said Kyle.

Nathan studied the man lying on the ground.

“He still breathing?” asked Nathan.

Kyle spit out some blood.

“Only because Emma called me off.”

Nathan laughed.

“What's so funny?” asked Kyle.

“Nothing. Everything.” Nathan turned to Emma. “Sorry, I'm so late. Were you coming or going?”

“I was going.” Emma pointed at the man sprawled across the pavement. “He followed me outside.”

Nathan nudged him with his foot.

The man told Nathan to fuck off.

“I'd say he's still breathing.” Nathan glanced over at the hotel. “Should we go back inside?”

“He's got a lot of friends in there,” said Macy.

“Maybe not a good idea then.”

“I'll deal with this,” said Kyle.

“Are you sure?” said Emma. “I don't want you to get into trouble. I'll tell them what happened.”

“Don't worry. It's—”

Nathan interrupted him. “Let it go Emma. It's his job. He's a glorified mall cop for fuck's sake.”

Emma remembered the pickup truck that had been parked nearby. There was a logo for a security company on the door.

“Kyle, is that why you're here?”

Kyle started stammering. “Why … why else would I … I be here?”

Nathan laughed as he slung his arm around Emma's shoulder.

“Now there's the Kyle I remember. I knew he couldn't have changed that much.”

“Nathan,” Emma said, shifting out from beneath his arm. “We're all adults here. Please try to keep up.”

Kyle started to walk toward his pickup truck.

“Hey, Kyle,” said Nathan, following close behind. “No hard feelings. I know you're having a rough time.” His voice was singsong. “I heard about your aunt and uncle.”

Kyle turned and stood toe to toe with Nathan. The top of his head barely reached Nathan's chin.

“I think you'll find that I've got no feelings for you whatsoever.”

“You see, Emma,” said Nathan, keeping his eyes locked on Kyle. “It's all fine. I say we go for a drive. We can come back to pick up your car later.”

“I don't want to leave my car here,” she said. “You can follow me.”

“Depends on where we're going.”

“Are you worried your fiancée might see us together?”

“No, not at all,” Nathan said. “I'd like to go someplace quiet that's all. We have a lot to talk about.”

The man who had followed Emma was sitting up. He had a pained expression on his face. He poked around his chest with his fingertips.

“I think you broke my ribs,” he slurred.

Kyle knelt down next to him. “I think you'll find that you did that when you fell down the steps. Nod if you get my meaning?”

He nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops,” said Kyle.

They watched him weave across the parking lot. Emma put a hand on Kyle's arm and he shrugged her off.

“Emma,” said Kyle. “I said I'd deal with this.”

“I just wanted to thank you.”

Kyle turned and spit up some more blood. “There's no need. It's like Nathan said. I'm just doing my job.”

*   *   *

Emma drove through the foothills above Walleye Junction with the glare of Nathan's headlights reflecting in her rearview mirror. The gates to the municipal cemetery were wide open and inside the grounds a few lampposts illuminated a path that cut a straight line from east to west. Emma fished a flashlight out of the glove compartment and tested it before grabbing a bag full of groceries and a bouquet of flowers off the passenger seat. She started up the main path while Nathan loitered beneath old iron gates.

“Is this quiet enough for you?” she yelled.

“Emma, what in the hell are you playing at?”

“I want to pay my respects to Lucy. I didn't get a chance the last time I was here.”

“This sort of thing is best left to daylight.”

Emma kept walking. “Lucy is dead. She won't care what time it is.”

Nathan kept still. “It's too dark. You'll never find her grave.”

“Do you really think I'd forget where she's buried?”

Emma hurried up the gravel path. There was a bench halfway across the cemetery. She stopped there to wait for Nathan. He walked at an easy pace with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. She shined the flashlight in his eyes and laughed nervously. He grimaced, but she didn't move the light.

“Emma,” he said, a hand up to shade his eyes. “What's gotten into you? Have you been drinking?”

Emma started walking again. “I used to come up here with Lucy. We'd have picnics on Beverly's grave.”

“That's just weird.”

“Lucy had a morbid fascination with death. She talked about her mother all the time.”

“Maybe with you, but not with me.”

“I went to see Dot Whitaker today.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, stopping to read an epitaph on a headstone. “What did the old lush have to say for herself?”

Emma waited for him again. “Why are you always so mean?”

“I'm not being mean. I'm just saying what everyone around here is afraid to say. I'm kind of surprised you don't remember what she was like.”

“As I recall she liked to have a good time. That's not against the law.”

“I was pretty tight with her son, Alex. She was always hitting on his friends. Got so bad he didn't invite us to his place anymore,” Nathan said.

“I don't remember that.”

“You don't seem to remember a lot of things.”

“I remember that Alex was high most of the time. Hardly a reliable source.”

“Did you ever wonder where he got all those pills?”

“You think Dot gave them to him?”

“Who else?”

“How about his father? Dr. Whitaker? He was the one with a prescription pad. Women always get blamed for everything.” Emma paused. She was tempted to tell Nathan that Dot had suspected him of leading her son astray but decided it wasn't worth it. “Whatever happened to Alex?”

“He found Jesus in a big way. He holds revival meetings in some tent outside Collier. Haven't seen him in years.”

Emma gave Nathan a quick glance. “It's amazing how you can be so close to someone, but then it's like you hardly knew each other at all.”