Creeps, Cache, & Corpses, page 5
My hand hovered over the knob to our room. “Goodnight, CJ. See you in the morning.”
CJ bowed and turned. He tapped his thigh and Renegade pranced after him.
I slid into the room. Jane’s head rested on the pillow. Her right hand held her phone to her ear. She smiled and spoke softly. When she completed her call, she set her phone on the table next to her, and Maverick jumped on her bed. “Oh, you big burly boy, you.” She sat up and scratched behind his ears. He leaned in for as much as he could wriggle out of her.
“How’s Drew?”
She answered, all dreamy-eyed. “He misses me.” She twirled her blond curls around her finger. “Have you heard from Pete?”
I shook my head. “Being on call has been a bear since his partner resigned.” I dragged on my sweats and pulled my hair into a ponytail. “I doubt I’ll hear much from him all week. The admin is working on hiring a locum or two. Pete wasn’t the only doc to have scheduled a vacation, but we talked it over. One of the other physicians has kids, so spring break week worked better for him. We’ll be able to figure something out. In the future. Sometime. Your job is to keep reminding me how lucky I am and how good I have it.”
“Ditto, girlfriend.” She smiled and collapsed back onto her pillow.
I stretched out on my bed. We kept to our own thoughts, and, within minutes, she rolled on her side. Her even breathing became my mantra. In and out. In and out. My neck muscles relaxed but before I could allow my eyes to close for the night, I made one last trip down the hall. Toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, I focused on the nightlight, and crept into the bathroom.
A soft, haunting melody played on a low-pitched flute and reverberated through the vent in the ceiling. I closed my eyes and listened, swaying to the gentle sounds and slowly washing my face. I dragged my lids open. After wangling a curlicue of toothpaste on top of the bristles, a work of art, I brought the brush to my teeth, and my phone pinged with a selfie of Dad attached.
Have you settled in, Darlin’?
I bit down on the brush to hold it in place and answered the text.
Yup. It’s a swell place.
Swell? I know you. What’s wrong with it?
Nothing. But you’re not here and Pete’s working. How’s Duluth?
We found a great pizza place. I’m sure you’d like it.
And?
I didn’t see his answer because I dropped my phone when my shoulders involuntarily rose to protect me from the distant screech which set my nerves on fire.
NINE
Luckily, my phone missed the sink full of water. I grabbed it off the floor and gripped it in one hand. I thrust my head out of the bathroom doorway, holding my toothbrush in attack mode in the other hand. The silent hall unnerved me almost as much as the squeal had. Surely someone else would have heard it, but the doors in the hall remained closed.
I doubted my faculties for a second and stepped back in to finish my nighttime routine. I rinsed my mouth with my familiar minty mouthwash, rotated my shoulders, loosening the kinks, and glanced at my phone screen. Dad hadn’t added anything to our exchange. Stifling a yawn, I collected my belongings, quickly organizing my small cosmetics pouch, and stiffened when I heard the piercing noise again. It resonated as if it occurred in a large space far away.
I pinpointed its source—the vent.
The high-pitched cry sounded less like a scream this time and more like a musician breathing full force into a hollow tube, overblowing to generate harmonics. A goosebump-inducing melody of sorts pierced the air. Mystery solved unless I wanted to know who made the noise, why, and how.
I checked the time. Those answers would have to wait.
The door barely creaked as I eased back into our room. The clock showed midnight. I plugged in my phone and settled in.
My eyes slammed shut but as much as I wanted to sleep, it proved difficult to achieve. The hours-long nap I’d taken during the afternoon drive had removed slumber from my personal arsenal. I looked up at the ceiling and recited the first fifty digits of , doubled the number one thirty times, recalled the state capitals, and silently sang the alphabet song in reverse.
When I couldn’t lie there any longer, I rolled off the narrow bed. I carried the water dish, and Maverick followed me downstairs. Warm milk had a reputation as a sleep aid.
Maverick hurried us through the kitchen door, and we came face to face with CJ and Renegade. The dogs sniffed, happily circled, and flopped onto the floor. CJ pointed to the stool next to him, a cup of something steaming in front of it.
“How did you know?”
“Renegade gave every indication she awaited her friend.”
I shook my head and took a long slurp of hot chocolate hidden beneath a cloud of marshmallow cream. I set it on the counter, wiping the white fluff from the tip of my nose. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”
He answered without looking in my direction. “I am hoping we will achieve peace, but what will be, will be.”
If I told him of the strange noise I thought I’d heard, his peace might be elusive. He didn’t need another disruption. His calming presence and the warm drink took the edge off. I took a more encompassing glance around the kitchen, reconciling the troubled space where I’d met Lauren with the tranquil spot in which I found myself now. The room boasted a high-tech beverage dispenser available to use all day long with its comprehensive book of directions attached to the side. I confiscated a soft, sweet bread from a two-tiered carved wooden tray standing next it. I’d had one before. Father Steve Anderson introduced me to kolaches in November while we waited to be selected or rejected from a jury pool, though he might have been disappointed in the absence of his favorite, poppy seed. Raspberry filling squirted from the center at first bite, and I hummed in satisfaction.
We finished our beverages in silence.
“Has the warm milk worked its magic?” he asked.
I yawned, certain I’d imagined the haunting noise earlier. I didn’t know how he did it, but my arms and legs felt heavy. “I think so.” I rubbed my eyes. “How about you?”
“I think we will make it through the rest of the night.” We rinsed the cups, put them in the dishwasher, and headed up the stairs.
He walked me to the door of our room yet again. “Goodnight, Katie. Stay.” I wasn’t certain if the last comment was made to me or Maverick. Renegade trailed him, looking back once to check on us.
This time, Jane’s rhythmic breathing took us with her.
* * *
Maverick’s slobbery kisses rescued me from a dark dream before the sun rose. If I went back to sleep, the rest of the day would be shot. I picked up his food dish and squeezed today’s baggie of kibble into the pouch of my sweatshirt. We padded downstairs back into the kitchen.
I opened the door and the air gusted as if I’d uncapped a wind tunnel. Quickly checking the space, I glimpsed a figure exiting through a door at the rear of the room.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to chase you out …” I delivered my last two words more slowly, and they were barely audible. “Of. Here.” The person had disappeared amid a flurry of royal blue.
Maverick gobbled his food and looked to me for possible extra. “Sorry, Mav. But let’s make a trip outside.” The second door from the kitchen delivered us to a small, divided alcove. One branch led to a narrow passage filled by a circular staircase. Maverick pushed down on the handle of the other branch to escape outside. After he performed his little doggie dance, he barked at a hawk, answered a few goose honks, took second place to a devious squirrel, and we snuck back inside.
Words froze on the lips of the fearsome foursome seated at the island as we walked into the kitchen. Their demeanor changed from surprise, perhaps at being caught, to superiority. Ryker’s shifty eyes sought his companions, and he said with saccharine sweetness. “We were just leaving.”
They each plucked a flaky chocolate pastry from the restocked trays, avoiding the hidden treasure of puffy fruit-filled bread, leaving more for me. They rose from their stools, but before they slipped from the room, Kindra, Patricia, and Carlee bounced in, ready to take on the day. Their eyes locked on my young women and the men reseated themselves. Their rude exchanges made me cringe.
Lest the lecherous louts forget themselves, I corralled the girls with large arm movements, inviting them to take seats at the banquette, as far away from the stools as possible. I lifted the entire tray of pastries and presented it to the table, extolling the spectacular taste of each of the choices. Maverick eyes drifted between the pastries and the men.
Jane joined us, perfectly made up. Under her critical scrutiny, Ryker shoved one of the cads off his stool. They retreated, and I breathed more easily.
Patricia signed, and Kindra interpreted. “Yes,” she said. “They are creepy.”
Okay, no worries on that front.
Jane brewed a creamy coffee for herself and recited instructions so the girls could make their beverages.
“I’ve got the day planned, Katie. I made spa appointments for our nails in thirty minutes.” Jane’s eyes twinkled. “Think you can make it?”
I looked down at my comfy loungewear, mortified. “I’m on it. C’mon, Maverick.” We raced up the stairs. Maverick settled into his spot on the rug with a large dog chew.
Seven minutes later, the door sprang open, and Jane flounced in, glancing at the time. “You’ll do.” Renegade peeked out from behind Jane, her curious doggie eyes begging. “Do you have another treat? We can leave her with Maverick.”
I dug in my backpack as Jane unleashed her wriggling ward. “Do we need to check on our boys?” I asked as I made for the stairs.
“CJ and Galen have already gone. We wished them luck.”
With all my heart, I also wished them success.
TEN
We might not have been able to see all of Main Street from one end as Jane had said, but I chuckled because we could see almost the entire charming downtown from the entryway of a well-concealed spa, Polished Perfection, in the heart of New Prague. We stepped inside, and the serene atmosphere provided a welcome diversion from the task which brought us to town.
The light, fresh scent of lavender and the calming sway of waves washing onto a beach floated on the air. Jane took the reins and, in a voice as soothing and smooth as silk, ordered us to choose colors and follow the technicians assigned to each of us. Amid our feeble attempts to dissuade her, she provided a credit card. “My treat,” she said in a near-whisper.
Exiting the locker room, Jane sighed. “We’ve so needed this. Right, girls?”
Kindra steeped a soothing herbal tea. Patricia and Carlee poured ice water in tall glasses, showcasing a rainbow of citrus slices. The exotic oils they tested on their pulse points left a gentle fragrance in the air. Their infectious chuckles smacked of feel-good hormones as, pampered by the amenities, they fished for favorite snacks from the basket on the table.
Swathed in a robe fresh and warm from the dryer, I wriggled into an oversized tan leather recliner, facing the wide archway leading to an adjacent hair salon. A number of patrons, in varying states of hair finish, moved swiftly and quietly from reception to chair to sink to coffee machine to dryer back to chair and to check out, white fluffy terry cloth oscillating in efficient assembly line fashion. Glad for a reprieve from the bustle of school, I leaned back and closed my eyes and immediately opened them to find Jane adjusting the massage vigor and temperature of my chair. My warm backside melted under the rhythmic kneading.
Our technicians held us captive, as we were mesmerized by the array of instruments used to soften, clean, trim, file, shape, and decorate with a wide assortment of colors, nail art, and glittering gems. My focus, blurred by the comfort of the chair and the gentle hand massage as I sat at the end of the row of plush chairs closest to the salon gateway, sharpened when I overheard two women discussing Edith Farthington and that “no good sleazy lawyer.”
“Ex-cuuuuse me but I was his law associate for four years. I should know. I had to fend off his advances almost every day.”
“Willy Zasko is a philandering Lothario,” a woman with short dark hair agreed. She dabbed at her forehead with the end of the fluffy white towel draped over her shoulders.
Riveted by the mention of Edith Farthington, one of the few names I knew in this town, I leaned toward the speakers, my curiosity piqued.
Jane tittered and coughed into her hand to hide it. She must have heard them talking too and seen my reaction. She caught my eye and raised a perfectly arched brow.
“You can’t be serious,” said the short squat woman with tight blond curls. “With all her money, why would she choose Willy?”
“How do you think Edith got all that money?” replied a tall slender woman whose jet-black hair color didn’t come close to matching the lighter shade of her eyebrows.
“You’re just jealous,” came a voice from the other side of the room.
“I don’t have to be jealous. I have Reggie right where I want him.” The bright pink of her fingernail flashed as she tapped her ruby red lips.
The blond said, “I think Zasko might know Reggie’s father. Maybe he is Reggie’s father and she’s been blackmailing him all this time.”
“But he’s married and has about a dozen other kids. And he’s an elder at our church.” A woman with a high squeaky voice and a head full of twisted foil strips stepped to the circle and joined the conversation.
“That’s another Zasko, one more concerned with propriety. Willy and his ex-wife never had kids.”
“You mean other kids, don’t you?” The blond woman grunted. “I think Reggie looks a lot like him.”
“There are about a dozen Zaskos in town—the barber, the sheriff, the manager at the pizza parlor … and not many of them are related.” A new husky voice entered the rumor-ring.
“Reggie’s not related to Willy.” The tall woman swung her head from side to side, eyeing her hair in the mirror, checking the color as dark as pitch. “And that’s a fact. He’s Edith’s nephew.”
Had these women nothing else to do but gossip? I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they spoke so clearly, I could hear every word.
The blond noisily slurped from a steaming cup and cleared her throat. The words carried clearly across the room. “Her of all people. I mean, really. It’s not like anyone cares.”
“She makes Reggie call her Edith as if we didn’t already know how old she is.”
“How old is she?” called a husky voice from somewhere out of sight.
“Edith?” the black-haired woman answered. “Old enough to know better. Even though she won’t let Reggie call her Auntie, she dangles all that money in front of him. But I won’t say another bad word about her. She likes me, and I don’t want that to change. Word has it she’s even chosen his wife for him.” She gave a self-satisfied purr.
“About time, I’d say. He’s old enough.”
Trying to direct my attention elsewhere, I surreptitiously glanced past Jane to watch the girls. Carlee and Kindra appeared to concentrate on their nail procedures, until Patricia said, a bit too loudly, “What’s going on?”
You could have heard a pin drop. Having been caught faking rapt attention, Kindra’s head jerked up. With the forefinger of her free hand in front of her lips, she quieted Patricia, but if we could hear them, the taletellers could certainly hear us. The women in the room next door caught the commotion, drew their heads together, and finally limited their conversation to their immediate and private circle.
After the final swipe of color and a clear topcoat, my nail stylist placed my hands under a UV light. I ignored the piercing eyes of the busybodies in the next room and said, “I can’t remember when I last had my nails done. Thanks, Jane. What’s next?”
“After we pick up the pups, we’re geocaching.”
A super surprised ‘Oh’ left my lips. I searched Jane’s face.
Her eyes gleamed as she mocked my disbelief. “Your vacation wouldn’t be complete without one, would it?”
“It will be another highlight, that’s for sure.”
“It’s a two-part puzzle cache marked as a favorite by seventeen searchers and it’s only two miles from town.”
We leisurely ambled from the exit, rubbernecking and appraising our varied colors, ranging from bold chartreuse and scarlet through royal purple and neon green. On the short drive to the inn, I admired my more sedate Café au Lait, hoping I wouldn’t ruin the manicure before we returned to Columbia.
We picked up the enthusiastic dogs. They hurled themselves into the Edge’s cargo space, panting and drooling in anticipation.
“Did the bedmaking leprechaun hit your room too,” Carlee asked, adjusting her seatbelt.
“Do you mean the housekeeping service?” Jane asked.
“Our room looks even better than it did when we moved in last night. I had a watermelon taffy on my pillow and an origami towel in the shape of a swan on my bed.
“We had a banana and a chocolate taffy and an elephant-shaped towel,” said Kindra, and Patricia signed a long swooping trunk.
I gave Maverick the side eye. By the time I’d seen them, the unremarkable towels had lost their shapes and lay crumpled on the bedspread.
“And wrapped caramels. Yum, the perfect treat.” Jane said.
“We had caramels?” I asked.
“Maybe.” Jane smacked her lips. “If we’re ready, I’ll send you the link, and after we find the cache, we can do a little shopping.”
Jane forwarded the puzzle description to the girls’ phones and pulled around a small, red disaster on wheels I hadn’t noticed before. The right rearview mirror hung on by a mere silver ribbon of duct tape and the streaky do-it-yourself paint job on the front right fender needed a touch up.
