On Emma's Bluff, Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada [buy e reader TXT] 📗

found pleasure in the familiar objects around him. He had grown up in this house. This was his living room now. He had killed the old man and now it was his. He stared at the yellowed doily that someone had sewed on the frayed arm of the couch. "Probably my mother," he thought. He could not remember her. She had died when he was too young. And now he tried to forget the old man.

He looked around the room and wondered when all the colors had faded from it. Everything was a nicotine tan now. The room was getting smaller he decided. He noticed the wide cracks in the grey floorboard. The once bright floral wallpaper was only a shadow of shapes now. "By God, I am the king of my castle," he bellowed out. "Think I need a beer."

Like someone being pushed by a great wind, Lacey staggered forward as he walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was even darker than the living room. No refrigerator light glowed as he opened the door. Who knew what was up in there? The room was so dark the night sky outside the window seemed to glow. Lacey could see the tree tops churning in the growing wind.

He had torn down the curtain over the sink after they became too soiled to even wipe his hands on any longer. Lacey peered into his back yard through the streaky panes. Though the sky shone all the ground was blackness. Lacey could only faintly make the silver butane tank that sat in the far corner of the yard. It was into the black trees that his eyes kept returning. "Anybody out there," he screamed at the glass.

"You out there?" His breath fogged the dirty window. "You waiting for me out there?" he yelled even louder. He leaned from side to side trying to get a better view. "No, not tonight," he said turning away. "You aint gonna get me tonight, old man."   He stumbled for the back door grabbing the handle for support. Breathless he yanked the door opened and braced himself on the doorframe. "You come on you cock sucker." He laughed, getting quieter now, "but you ain’t gonna get me tonight." The hiss of the wind picked up sucking the words into its roar. "You chicken shit," Lacey spit as he slammed the back door and threw the dead lock."

A quarter of a mile down the road from Lacey's house, Red Humphries sat in his pick up truck. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the faint cries coming from Lacey's place. He opened his eyes and sat right up. He immediately picked up on the shape to his right. Moving at the barest of speed, Red turned to better focus. Outside the passenger window stood a man, a tall man with broad shoulder: a man who had to stoop to stare into the cab of the pick up truck. The dead penetration of this man's gaze brought Red's heart up to his throat. Instantly the man turned away from the truck. In easy motion he lumbered toward the house. Red knew this man. Red recognized him right off. The man was Wallace Caine, Lacey’s old man.

 

 

Chapter 12

The next morning Cindy was standing in front of the school as the buses arrived. A worry line creased her brow as she watched the last two kids get off of Emma's bus. Emma was not on it. "I wonder if she's sick or if that jerk just broke her heart again," Cindy said to no one in particular. She continued mumbling under her breath as she stomped across the schoolyard. A waving hand caught her eye. It was Emma standing with the crowd in front of the school. Not two feet behind Emma was Bill Simmons. Cindy stopped in her tracks. She didn't see Joy anywhere around.

"I didn't see you get off the bus."

"Bill picked me up today." Emma smiled brilliantly. Bill stepped up directly behind Emma and rested his wrist on her shoulder in a possessive manner.

"What's happening, Cin?" Bill said. His smile mirrored Emma's

"It's going." Cindy sucked in her bottom lip and shook her head up and down. "Emma," she said through a thin smile, "I need to talk to you."

"So talk," Emma shot back.

"Alone," Cindy mouthed the word.

"Excuse me Bill," she turned to him, "I need to talk to Cindy privately."

"Okay." He winked and smacked his lips at her in an exaggerated blown kiss.

Cindy grabbed her best friend's arm and marched her away from the group. "What the hell is going on with you and that Bozo now?" she demanded.

"I have a date for the fall carnival," Emma answered clearly expecting her friend to be thrilled for her.

"Yeah and you are going as what, the blind lady after Joy scratches your eyes out." Cindy was clearly not pleased.

"I thought you would be happy for me," Emma said clearly hurt.

"Look Emma, I have known Bill Simmons since we were little kids he was a self centered jerk then and he is a self centered jerk now."

"That's not fair, Cindy.   Why are you acting this way?"

"I told you. Trust me one way or another he is going to make a fool out of you." Cindy just stood there her hands on her hips. How could her good friend be acting like such an idiot? It was embarrassing.

"Maybe it's none of your business," Emma lashed out.

"Fine then." Cindy felt heartsick.

"Fine." Emma turned away and walked back to the school and Bill.

 

_________________________________________

 

Cindy remained unnaturally quiet as the jeep bounded over the rutted gravel road that led to Emma's house. Emma was singing happily to the radio.   Trying to break the ice Emma said, "Cindy, you should just see the way he looks at me."

"Like a dog, like the dog he is," Cindy stated.

"No, like, like," she drifted into some thought. "Is this what it is like to be in love?" she finally said. Now Cindy turned to look directly at her pal.

"Don't you say that and don't you ever let anyone hear you say that. This is not some TV show. These Delta boys only want one; no I take that back two things. They want in your drawers and they want to marry someone with a rich daddy. Now where do you think you fit in that equation."

"Who says he is going to get in my ‘drawers’? You know I am not like that!" Emma was mad. "I am not like Joy!"

"Nope you're not." Cindy sighed. "Joy knows better than to trust Bill."

Liz Wilson sprawled on Emma's bed with one elbow supporting her chin as she wrote in a notebook. She called herself helping Emma to come up with a list of possible costumes for the carnival. Cindy leaned back on two legs of a straight back chair. The girls had barely spoken to each other since the ride home.

"A fairy princess," Liz suggested.

"Too babyish."

"A mermaid."

"I really wish I didn't have to wear a costume, " Emma whined.

"Don't be silly. That's what Halloween is all about." Liz easily dismissed Emma's complaint.

"I think she should go as the Creature From the Black Lagoon." Cindy held her hands over her head like claws and raised a corner of her mouth in a sneer.

"Please Cindy, I do have a date," Emma said stressing the word ‘I’, "I don't want to look ridiculous. Liz tapped her pen on the notebook and scrutinized Emma.

"There has got to be something that is just right for you. Not too flashy; not too plain." Emma opened up her closet door and was scouting through her clothes looking for an idea. "Who put these in here?" She pushed aside a section of clothes and reached into the bottom of the closet. She pulled out a pair of narrow black boots.

Looking at the boots, Cindy felt a tug of metallic like sickness. She pushed the feeling away and wiped her mouth with her hand. "Those look like they used to belong to the wicked old witch of the Bluff," she attempted to joke.

"I think they are kind of quaint." Emma defended the boots.

"Yeah you and probably my mother would."

"No, Emma's right," Liz cut in, " They are rather cute. We could use them as part of the costume."

"Sure if she's planning on going as Lizzie Borden." Cindy could not help it, there was something about those boots that gave her the willies.

"No, it's perfect. I'll go as a witch." Emma attempted a cackle.

"A beautiful witch like that one that was TV," Liz chimed in.

"No she should definitely have a wart on her nose."

Red Humphries was just finishing his supper. He pushed his plate back and took out a toothpick to clean his teeth. His wife moved soundlessly back and forth from the table to the kitchen. His children, those that were left at home, were watching television and arguing over the recliner. No one dared to disturbed Red when he sat down to think. What he had seen the previous night had set his mind to reeling. Old Wallace Caine was alive. Somehow the murder, seven years prior had been faked. Perhaps father and son had killed some poor soul and concocted the hoax.   Still Red was not sure just how this could be. There were facts that made this all seem impossible. But Red kept coming back to the same fact; he had seen Wallace Caine alive, walking around, with his own eyes.

In Red's book dead men did not get up and walk about. It was not even a consideration. No, Wallace Caine was alive, that was for sure. There was something not right, down right illegal about this. Red could smell it. Red stood up from the table in one fluid motion. "Vera," he called for his wife in the kitchen, "Vera, get Harvey Johnson on the phone for me."

His wife appeared briefly in the doorway and then slipped quickly back into the kitchen to make the call. "About time I brought in the Calvary," Red thought shrugging off his disappointment. Things had gone too far. If Lacey's old man was alive and if the two of them were involved in the latest murders then he was going to need help. There was still the matter of baiting a trap. Wheels began clicking in Red's mind as his wife brought him the phone.

As soon as Cindy drove in the school parking lot the next morning she spotted Joy Hutchinson. Joy was peering down the drive that lead up to the school. It looked like trouble was brewing to Cindy. Emma was riding to school with Bill again and Joy would not help but see them when they drove up. Cindy parked where she would have a good view of the confrontation. There she sat pretending to read her Latin textbook for twenty minutes. Every time she looked up she saw that Joy's eyes were still glued to entrance road.

When the 8:05 bell rang Cindy jumped in her seat. "Dang, where are they?" she muttered, "I don't want to go in yet." She moved slowly and deliberately gathering her books and heading for the school building. She barely made it to her homeroom class before the 8:10 tardy bell rang. Cindy looked toward the