The Darkly Stewart Mysteries: The Woman Who Tasted Death Page 7
What legend said about a mother wolf protecting her cub was an understatement. Legend had no idea.
“You never could handle that girl. You coddled her from day one, never acted in her best interests.” Buck was back in the present in the diner.
“You didn’t help me any.”
“I took her to Doc. Doc gave her drugs.”
“That’s it, then. It’s under control.”
Geraldine returned the glass coffee carafe to its stand.
“No, she’s out of control, Geraldine. It’s a band-aid. Did you see Ed’s dog? Did you see him? She’s just like her father.”
“Why is it always ‘her father’ or ‘your husband?’ He was your brother.”
“You made your choice.”
“Yes, I did. I chose to stand with you.”
Geraldine broke loose of Buck’s grip.
“You’d think seventeen years would be enough time to get over the rest. It would be for any other man, Buck. You’re too sensitive.”
Buck ignored the remark.
“The coffee’s cold.”
“The heating pad finally gave out. It’s going to be cold more often than hot.”
“Victoria needs to be brought into line, forced if necessary. Or she’s lost.”
Geraldine leveled her eyes at Buck.
“What are you saying, Buck? She needs a husband to beat it out of her? Break her so she takes her proper place?”
“Ed said he’d help you out, as payment for his injury and his dog.”
Geraldine bristled. “That’s the cost of a dowry these days? A fucking mutt? You tell that filthy redneck farmer that if he ever touches my daughter, I’ll bite his other ear off. You know well enough that Vicky has eyes for only one boy.”
Buck went stiff.
“Keep that girl away from my son.”
“Or what?”
Geraldine fought the urge to back down and shut up. Buck and she had been through a lot together. She knew talking always made their situation worse. What was it the outside world called it? Communication? They could keep it.
Buck looked at Geraldine and shook his head. “Don’t.”
Geraldine softened. “You’re a good man, Buck. I know you’ve been protecting her in your own way. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Don’t think I’m not grateful.”
Geraldine put her hand on Buck’s.
“I’d sure like it if you let me say thank you every once in a while. I need to say thank you. You need it. What man doesn’t?”
Buck pulled his hand free and took a sip of his cold coffee.
Geraldine directed her words at Buck so only he could hear them. “How many years do I have to pay you penance?”
At that moment, an old man with a tobacco-stained beard walked into the diner carrying a pail full of rags. He put the bucket down next to the coat rack by the entrance and hung his hat.
Geraldine hit a bell on the order window counter a little too hard. How many times had she taken out her frustrations on that damn thing? It never broke. She wouldn’t be broken either.
Geraldine yelled to the cook, “Hash!”
The old man made his way over to a stool in front of Geraldine.
“Those windows are mighty dirty today. It’s the warm wind. Dust blowing off the mountains.”
Geraldine placed a clean coffee mug down on the counter.
“How ‘bout we include a slice of pie today, Jasper?”
Jasper plopped himself down in front of Geraldine, as she poured him a coffee.
“Oh? Well now, I suppose that would be fine, Geraldine. Don’t need to watch my waistline at my age.”
Jasper looked out the dirty diner windows.
“The light is going, though. I’ll probably have to come back tomorrow to finish the job. Yep, definitely a two-day job.”
Geraldine smiled and nodded her head. Jasper reached for a small sugar bowl and spooned several heaping teaspoons into his black coffee. He then picked up his mug and examined it.
“This mug’s chipped.”
“They’re all chipped, Jasper.”
It was Buck who pointed that fact out, and Jasper glanced over at the sheriff.
“Afternoon, Sheriff. You been up to see those movie people yet?”
Geraldine laid a large plate of corned beef hash and a bottle of ketchup in front of Jasper.
“They’re coming in here tonight for a meal,” said Geraldine.
Jasper opened the ketchup and pounded the bottom of the bottle with his palm. The sweet red paste hit his hash in splatters that spilled over onto the counter.
“That so? How long they staying with us?”
Geraldine grabbed the ketchup bottle out of Jasper’s hands.
“This stuff don’t grow on trees.”
“I heard it’s five weeks,” Jasper said unfazed.
Buck didn’t reply.
“I’ll bet it’s longer,” Jasper mused.
Jasper turned back to his plate of hash and began shoveling it into his mouth.
“Can’t think of the last time I went to the pictures. Something with Mary Pickford, I think. That was a classy fox,” Jasper reminisced through his mouthful.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What was that thumping? It wouldn’t stop. Serena came to. She’d fallen asleep in a crooked position on the tiny RV couch. The trailer cabinets rattled, as the thumping resumed.
“Serena?” A vaguely familiar voice called out. “It’s Carter. The director. We spoke briefly on the phone.”
Serena’s agent had given her the low-down on this guy. Thirty-something, but not exactly the latest wunderkind to come out of Hollywood. He was a trust fund baby still living off his parents’ talents. Every business Daddy set up for him collapsed within a couple years. None of it involved any kind of hard work, of course. There was the baseball team that was demoted from Triple A to just A; completely skipping a division. Or was that called minor league? Serena didn’t know anything about sports. There was the deep sea fishing business. Two boats sank in rough water. Carter was pulled out of the ocean by the coast guard. That one made the front page of the Miami Herald at least.
But when Carter showed up on a list of suckers who Bernie Madoff had pursued real estate ventures with, Daddy put his wallet away. Carter eventually convinced his father to give him one more shot, and so he set out to become an independent filmmaker. He was going to prove his worth to his father once and for all by sinking his last penny into a business where the first rule of thumb is “never use your own money.” Well, technically, he was using Daddy’s money.
Serena sat up. Her back went into spasms, causing her to hunch over. She’d sleep on the floor before suffering this couch again. She straightened herself up, put on a smile, and opened the door.
“Carter!” She extended her hand. “It’s great to meet you. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”
Carter was average height, average weight, and average looks. His nervous smile belied an unwavering conviction that the eventual outcome would make up for the road full of potholes he drove down to get there.
“How’s your home away from home?” He looked around. “Comfortable? You have a sink. I don’t have one of those. My office is the pickup.”
This was bound to be the obligatory bonding session, where Serena was supposed to ask the director what the character was actually feeling while being chased topless through the woods by a serial killer. Peter and Shane had already placed a bet with her that Carter would use the words “female empowerment,” “overcoming the odds,” and “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable” at least once during their conversation.
Carter stepped into the RV.
“I thought I could share with you my whole vision thing. The short version.”
Carter lo
oked away to his left a little. Where had Serena read that was an indication the person was being dishonest about something?
“Uh, your agent told you about the, uh, situation?”
“You mean the non-union thing or showing my boobs?”
“Oh. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way. It will be a closed set.”
“Yeah, my agent told me I’d probably lose my union status, but she needs the money, and I’m leaving for L.A. the moment I’m done filming. I’m not coming back.”
“I see.”
“Yeah. I’ve lived through enough snow for one lifetime.”
“Well, the snow’s all melted here, and the town’s been really good about welcoming us. No permits for filming. They’re just happy to get a boost to their local economy. My GPS couldn’t even find this place. It’s like a modern-day Brigadoon.” He wrapped up, “Okay then, I have to say hello to the other actors. We’ll see each other at the cast meal tonight. I don’t know what they have to eat around here. Probably moose burgers or something like that. Oh, sorry, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”
“I eat fish. That’s a pescatarian. What about the vision?”
“Vision?”
“Your vision. You were going to enlighten me.”
“Oh, right.”
This guy wasn’t Spielberg.
“Well, I don’t see it as a slasher movie, and you aren’t a victim. These students find the strength within themselves to overcome the terrible odds that are stacked against their very survival.”
Bingo. Serena stifled a laugh, even though she’d just lost a fiver each to Peter and Shane.
“That’s exactly how I saw it when I read the script.”
“Cool. Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
Serena wondered how many gallons of fake blood Carter had ordered, and how much of it would end up being poured on her breasts.
Carter smiled and said goodbye to Serena’s chest.
On the way out of Serena’s trailer, Carter caught sight of Darkly and Gus still sitting by the edge of the overlook. Marvin had gotten them a couple chairs, which they looked up from as Carter’s head blocked their sun. Gus snapped surveillance photos of the town with his Nikon 35mm camera.
“Hi. I’m Carter. The Director. I understand you helped my director of photography out of a bind. Nice camera.”
It had been a couple of days since Darkly and Gus had enjoyed anything more than granola bars, so they accepted the invite to the cast and crew meal. In fact, Gus had found his way onto the crew as their stills photographer, making Darkly his assistant.
Darkly sat next to Marvin at The Moon River Diner. Serena was on the other side of her popping pills, and Christopher was next to Serena. The most he was able to do from that position was play footsie with Darkly, which was better than rubbing her knee.
Carter gave them all his mission statement and thanked the diner owner, Geraldine, for handling the cast and crew meals. She was also one of two waitresses, the dishwasher, and the cook when the other cook was sleeping off a bottle of moonshine.
Sheriff Buck gave everyone a lecture about the dangers of local wildlife, rock slides, and rough water.
Serena had a hard time keeping her lower lip connected to her upper lip in front of Buck. He was clearly a looker. That’s what Darkly’s grandmother would have called him. His hair was an unusual bluish silver, which hung down over his ears. His eyes were the color of steel. Where one expected his skin to be leathered to match the mature shade of hair, his face was, instead, boyish and taut. No sign of crow’s feet on this man in his late thirties, though there was the permanent scowl on his face.
Geraldine gave a small talk on The Moon River Diner: how the wife of a Gold Rush miner had fed every young man who headed west to build the railway and how her family had restored the place to its former glory.
That couldn’t have been terribly glorious by Darkly’s assessment. The Formica tables had coffee ring stains that had to date back to the 1950s. The seats of the chairs were covered in enough duct tape to wrap around the planet at least once. The whole town appeared in dire need of a team of handymen and interior designers.
The meal was actually quite good. They started with wild leek and mushroom soup, which Geraldine’s daughter, Victoria, spilled all over Christopher. It must be quite intimidating for a teenage girl secluded in the middle of nowhere to have Hollywood come to town.
Peter and Shane were both former waiters and jumped in to help pass the rest of the soup around and then the venison cutlets and boar sausages. The bread pudding was pretty much the best thing Darkly had ever eaten.
It was over coffee that Darkly noticed a curl of smoke wafting past the window. She was gagging for a cigarette. She excused herself and headed for the toilets. At the Ladies, she kept going and slipped out the back exit.
The night air was warm, and a wind was blowing. The tiny lights of the circus trailers up on the hill above the town were reflected in the Moon River. She smelled the cigarette, then saw the flicker of red over by the diner’s grease pit.
“Can you spare one of those?”
Victoria emerged into the faint beam of the back door’s overhead incandescent light bulb. She held a pack of American Spirits out to Darkly.
Darkly took one out and put it in her mouth. Victoria tossed her black metal lighter to Darkly. Darkly ignited the flame and smiled at Victoria.
“I love the smell of butane in the evening.”
Victoria stared blankly back.
“Sorry. Bad joke. The movie. Apocalypse Now.”
“Never saw it.”
Darkly inhaled deeply and shoved the lighter into her pocket out of habit.
“Thanks. I needed that. My name’s Darkly.”
Victoria took another drag on her own cigarette and then gave up her own name. “Victoria.”
“That’s a pretty name. Not like mine.”
“I never liked it.”
Darkly decided to start fishing. “I’m guessing you don’t get many visitors to this town.”
“I gotta meet my boyfriend now.”
Victoria threw her cigarette butt to the ground and walked back into the diner.
Darkly called after her, “Come and visit us on set if you like. My boyfriend is the photographer.”
No answer back.
“Or not.”
Darkly took a final drag herself and turned back to the exit. Geraldine was standing there waiting for her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the door open.”
“She will have stolen those cigarettes off one of your friends.”
“Oh, right.”
Darkly looked down at the half-finished cigarette in her hand.
“I guess I shouldn’t have encouraged her.”
“She’s going through a rebellious stage.” Geraldine held open the exit door. “Everyone’s leaving. Sheriff’s giving you a lift to the hotel.”
“That’s okay. You know, I think I’ll just walk. It’s warm out.”
Geraldine nodded and went back inside.
“Mothers everywhere just love me,” Darkly said sarcastically to herself.
Darkly dropped the cigarette and crushed it into the gravel with her boot.
The back of Buck’s pickup accommodated the cast members, while Marvin drove Carter back to the circus. The crew was camping out in tents to save money. Christopher patted down his clothes, looking for something.
“Damn, I must have left my cigs at the circus.”
Buck pulled up next to Darkly and Geraldine. He leaned out the driver’s window.
“You sure you don’t want a ride? Hotel’s on the other side of town.”
“No thanks, Sheriff, I like walking at night.”
Buck looked at Geraldine. She rolled her eyes for dramatic effect
.
“I’ll see to it she gets there alive, Buck.”
“You do that. Bears are bad this time of year. Eating out of people’s trash cans. Where’s Victoria?”
“You mean, who’s she with?” She patted Buck’s arm. “You know full well.”
Next to Buck, on the passenger side of the cab’s bench seat, Gus lifted up his camera to show Darkly.
“I’ll get some video footage of the town. For the DVD extras. Honey.”
Buck pulled his arm in the truck and drove away, dislodging Christopher’s perch on the wheel hub. He landed in Serena’s lap. Darkly could hear Christopher leering, if such a thing was possible, as he apologized with the help of his roaming hands.
“Sorry about that, love.”
Geraldine put her arm through Darkly’s. “I want you to call me Gerri. Let’s walk along the river, shall we? Believe it or not, you are not the first Darkly I’ve met. Did you like the meal?”
“It was great. The venison was the most delicious meat I’ve ever eaten.”
“Well, the folks of Wolf Woods know how to bring down a deer from an early age.”
The two set off. Darkly felt an immediate connection to Gerri. The older woman’s red hairs had faded, but would have been a rich strawberry blond in her youth.
“You’ve known him long?” Darkly asked.
Geraldine’s eyes were glued to the crescent moon when she replied, “Who, Buck? All my life.”
“I guess that was a dumb question in such a small place. Is he always so light-hearted?”
“Oh, Buck’s just Buck. Some people are born grumps, I guess.”
Geraldine led Darkly into a back yard and past the hum of a generator.
“We get our electricity in town from kerosene generators. Black-outs are pretty common in the winter when the roads are blocked. Not much makes it into town when the roads are blocked. Everything you ate tonight is local.”
Gerri opened a wooden gate in a crumbling brick wall overrun with vines pushing their way through the mortar. Darkly passed through the wall to find herself standing on a narrow slope that fell down to the gently-flowing river below. Darkly hoped she could hear the calming sound of shallow water flowing over rock from her hotel window.