Nearly Departed, Max Schlienger [the gingerbread man read aloud txt] 📗

Dennis climbed out onto shaking legs and steadied himself on the open door. He left the pictures on the floor. Spinner leaned forward and held out a white business card. “Listen, Dennis,” he said, “if you change your mind about talking to me, give me a call.” Dennis didn’t respond, but took the card nonetheless. Without so much as a second look in Spinner’s direction, he pushed the door closed, and felt his heart speed up again as it immediately swung back open.

“You have to really slam it sometimes,” Spinner’s voice called. Dennis scowled and threw the door again, this time latching it. The car immediately pulled away, leaving a shaken and unsteady Dennis to walk the final stretch to the gas station. In spite of his still overwhelming sense of panic, he realized that it was a different place than the one he had intended to visit, and he darkly wondered if he’d be able to find his way back.

Dennis had purchased a package of cigarettes in addition to the supplies for Bobo’s anticipated display of pyrotechnics, hopeful that the nicotine would do something to soothe his electrified nerves. Instead, the smoke had only given him a headache, which was just as well since carrying both a smoldering cigarette and a can of gasoline was not the most brilliant of ideas. He had wandered for a bit before coming across a street he recognized, and by the time he arrived back at Elspeth’s house, the sun was almost directly overhead and his stomach was growling.

Several attempts at pounding on the front door, both with the knocker and with his fist, failed to result in either Elspeth’s or Bobo’s presence to greet him. When he finally entered on his own, the house seemed deserted. He meandered through the familiar areas of the dwelling, checking Evy’s room first, now devoid of the chair, and then searched the connected kitchen and dining room. Eventually, he found his way to an open door leading out behind the house, and the sudden sound of Bobo’s laughter told him that he had finally located the other two living entities in residence.

The backyard was landscaped in much the same way as its more evident counterpart at the house’s front. Rows of flowers bordered a well-kempt lawn, kept invisible from neighbors by a tall wooden fence. A single, ancient tree stood off to the left side of the area, beneath which a white table and matching chairs had been set. Bobo and Elspeth sat opposite each other, with a game board between them, and Evy’s chair stood at the yard’s far corner, looking for all the world like an innocent piece of furniture.

“Took you long enough, mate!” Bobo called when he saw Dennis approaching. “We was thinking you’d been kidnapped!’

He sort of had, Dennis thought with a shiver. He had decided during his walk back that he wouldn’t mention the encounter with Spinner. There was no need to worry Bobo needlessly, and Elspeth could easily confirm the reason for his presence, should anyone happen to ask. He had briefly imagined that a squadron of police officers would be waiting for him upon his return, but had decided that Spinner wouldn’t have let him go if he had been planning anything of the sort. With a carefully neutral expression, Dennis walked forward and examined the game in progress.

“How are you at Backgammon, Dennis?” Elspeth asked. Dennis ran his eyes across the game board and tried to make sense of the pieces.

“I’ve never played,” he confessed. He turned his gaze to Bobo, whose face was lit by a near-perpetual grin.

“I’m winning,” Bobo proudly declared.

“No, you aren’t,” countered Elspeth good-naturedly. She winked at Dennis. “He hadn’t played before either. Some of the finer points are still eluding him.” There was a clattering of dice and some pieces changed position on the board. Judging by the look of bemused mirth on Bobo’s face, the finer points of the game were the least of his worries.

“So, are we going to do this?” Dennis asked. Both Elspeth and Bobo looked up with varying degrees of amusement on their faces, and suddenly Dennis felt incredibly silly standing there with his gallon-sized jug of accelerant.

“It can wait until we finish the game,” Elspeth said. A fair enough statement, Dennis thought, but he didn’t feel particularly productive as an observer. He trudged over to where Evy’s chair sat and gave it an accusing glare.

“What have you gotten me into?” he demanded in an exaggerated voice. Although the chair was seemingly vacant, Dennis preferred it that way. He didn’t see much appeal in complaining at an object that could offer input. “One minute, I’m just an author with a stupid hobby, and the next, I’m getting forced into cars at gunpoint while my partner the fraudulent shaman plays Parcheesi with a British version of Martha Stewart.”

“Backgammon!” yelled Bobo. Dennis felt his ears burn and his face turn red. He hadn’t realized that he’d speaking loud enough for his words to carry back to the table, and he wondered how much of what he’d said had been overheard. He stole a quick look over his shoulder. Based on the carefree way that the game continued to progress, he figured that the part about his encounter with Spinner had gone thankfully unnoticed.

The gas can landed with a sloshing thud as Dennis dropped it, and he sat down in front of the chair. For a moment, he thought he heard a faint hint of laughter, but it could have been coming from a house nearby. A piece of stiff material dug into his hip, and after a moment of contorted grasping, he pulled out Spinner’s business card, now slightly wrinkled by his efforts. The information printed on it was straightforward and simple enough, but one detail caught Dennis’ attention. Under the name “Malcolm R. Spinner,” was a line of smaller text, spelling out the words “Private Investigator.” The man wasn’t a detective