A Shadow of Death in The Woods (12 page)

Chapter 16

Do What Where?

I left the law office in a daze. In no mood to go back to my office I decided to go to Woody’s Bar and Grill. It was almost five o’clock anyway, my official quitting time. I took it easy driving. I wasn’t in good condition to be on the streets. I couldn’t focus on anything except the disaster in the lawyer’s office. I felt like I had been in a truck wreck.

I pulled into Woody’s parking lot and took several long, deep breaths. What was I going to do? Where was I going to go? How could my life unravel so quickly? It just didn’t seem possible but I had a copy of the divorce papers sitting on the seat next to me to remind me it was not only possible but it was real. Too real.

I went inside. Woody’s place was almost empty. It was a little early for the after-work drinkers. In a few minutes the place would be packed. It would then empty out as the people went home for dinner and then it would fill back up with the evening drinkers.

I sat at the bar and Woody brought me a beer without my asking. I usually don’t drink beer but at Woody’s I usually had a Beck’s. He took one look at me and said, “It looks like you just lost your last friend. What’s up?”

Woody, “Let me ask you a question. How is it possible that you do a good turn, setting off a chain of events that ruins your life? How is that possible? How can life be so unfair?”

“Man, what are you talking about? Are you talking about the other night?”

“No. It is something that happened a while ago in West Virginia. I just came from Kat’s lawyer’s office. They laid a deal on me that means I have to get out of the city.”

“What? That ain’t legal, is it?”

“When you have Woodward money and lawyers, anything they want is legal.”

“Man, I can’t believe this. How can they force you to leave town?”

“Well, Woody, they made me sign an agreement to stay at least one hundred yards from Kat’s kids. That means I can’t go to church, go shopping or anywhere I might run into them.”

“My God, you mean you have no visitation rights?”

“Yeah, Woody, you have it figured out.”

“Jack, I don’t know what to say. Them bastards. It ain’t right. What are you going to do?”

“Woody, you just put your finger on the number one problem. I have no idea where to go or what to do. Right now I want to eat one of your hamburgers, have a few beers and go back to your place to think.”

I thought that night but I didn’t come up with any ideas. It all just swirled around in my head. I couldn’t get my arms around the idea that I has lost everything meaningful to me in such a short time. I didn’t even see it coming. I knew our marriage was in trouble but I had started sleeping better and was hoping that things would smooth out. That night, I had a fitful night’s sleep.

I got up and ate breakfast with Lorraine. She was trying to help me but I felt rotten. She fixed a nice breakfast, which I both appreciated and ate. I had to get out of the house.

I went to work and cleaned out all my personal stuff from my desk and put it in my truck. As soon as that was done I told my boss I was resigning. He looked at me like I was putting him on. Finally, he said, “Are you sure? I know we haven’t gotten along lately and I sometimes get on your case but this is kind of sudden, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I am sure. What’s the process?”

“Company policy says that I have to walk you out the door if this is final. We would then send all your personal stuff to you. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider and we can pretend that this conversation never happened?”

“No, it is over. Here is my badge. I am leaving.”

He walked me out the door. He told me to give my address to his administrative assistant and she would send my personal stuff to me. I didn’t bother telling him I had already cleaned my desk out. Besides I didn’t have an address.

It was just after nine o’clock and I decided to go to the bank and check to see if Kat had transferred the money to me as agreed. Nope, my bank account had not changed. I decided to give her until noon and made my way to the library.

I read all the papers. Printed news was rapidly disappearing. I could see the handwriting on the wall but I was going to miss newspapers. Already newspapers were not good sources of national news. Most newspapers were living on local news. Getting news was starting to be a problem. TV was entertainment only. The news shows had to be entertaining or they disappeared. Americans demanded to be entertained. Real news was boring.

At eleven-thirty I grabbed lunch and made my way to the bank. I don’t know why I was so focused on the money from Kat. I guess it was the only positive thing that I knew I could do. I still hadn’t figured out what I was really going to do.

At the bank I found out that my account balance had not changed. I phoned Kat on her cell phone. She was at lunch.

She said, “You aren’t supposed to be phoning me.”

“And you aren’t supposed to go back on an agreement.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The loan that you promised isn’t in my account.”

“What?”

“I said, the loan is not in my bank account.”

“I am sorry. I left instructions for this to be done the first thing this morning. I will contact the bank and get it straightened out and phone you back.”

“Okay. Thanks. And by the way why aren’t I supposed to be phoning you? That isn’t in our agreement.”

“I just don’t think it is a good idea. I’ll get your money for you. It is not a loan. You can have the money. Goodbye.”

I always say when in doubt go get a good donut. I went to a local donut shop that had great donuts. I had a Bavarian cream-filled donut with powdered sugar on the outside with a cup of coffee. Kat phoned and said my money was ready. I walked to the bank as penance for the donut.

I hung around while the bank manager checked on my funds. She came back and told me that the transfer had just been completed and she gave me my new balance. I thanked her and I sent Kat a text message on her phone and bid her goodbye.

Then I realized that I had nothing definite to do. I was jobless, homeless and aimless. I needed to get my act together. Instead my mind wanted to review how I had gotten in this sorry state of affairs. I sat in my truck, thinking over the events since the incident in The Woods. I thought about The Cabin and how I thought I was going to die there. Maybe it would have been better if I had died there. It probably would have been better for me.

I thought about how Bob and Jane said that they would help me if I ever needed it. Duh, why does it take me so long to have a good idea? I needed to phone Bob and Jane and see if I could stay in The Cabin until I got my act together. Sitting on a mountain in West Virginia might be just the thing I needed at this point in my life.

I phoned Bob at the number he had given me. A woman answered the phone. I asked for Bob McAvoy. She asked if he was expecting my call, who was I and by the way he was busy. I told her that was fine and that she should just give him the message that I called and give him my number. She agreed to do that but I could tell by the tone of her voice that I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

In a few minutes my phone rang. It was Bob and I answered.

He said, “Jack, great hearing from you. How are you doing?”

“Well, I have been better and I am wondering if I could spend a few days at The Cabin, sorting out my thoughts. Well, actually sorting out my life.”

“Whoa, what is happening dude? Of course, you can stay at The Cabin but what’s going on? How can I help you?”

I gave him the Reader’s Digest version of the situation. He asked me when I would be getting there. I told him I had to pack up a few things and I could be on the road by two o’clock. I said that probably I would be near The Cabin by 6:30 or 7:30 that night, if I stopped to eat dinner. I told him I had forgotten how to get to The Cabin. He said, "Drive into town and find Momma’s Restaurant. Tell her that I was to go in the back where he and Jane would meet me for dinner."

Ah, Momma. I remembered her well although I hadn’t thought of her since that time at The Cabin. I hadn’t seen her restaurant at the time. In fact, I had not even gone into the town on that trip. I was riding in the hills and ended up at The Cabin.

Thinking of The Cabin brought back bad memories. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake going there. Maybe it would open old wounds better left alone. I thought about calling Bob back but then what would I do? What would I tell him? I decided to stick with the plan.

I motored over the Woody’s house to pick up my stuff. I had said my goodbyes to Woody at his bar. He said he was sorry to see me go but I also knew he probably wanted his house to himself. Anyway it was a couple of guys saying good bye. No big deal.

Saying good bye to Lorraine was a bigger deal. She liked me living at their house. I didn’t have a lot of time so we said our goodbyes. Besides I would likely be back at sometime in the future for a visit.

In very short order I was on the road to West Virginia where everyone has one leg longer than the other from walking on the hillsides. Radio stations are not my style and I am not into satellite radio yet so I put on a CD and settled in for the haul.

I hadn’t been to West Virginia since the time in The Woods. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to handle it. It was a wild mixture of happy memories and some of the worst horrors I could imagine. You don’t always get to choose what you get to do in life. We like to think that we are in control and we make things happen. The truth is that life throws situations at us with no warning or preparation. Life can be random. The choices we make in response send our lives one way or the other.

I didn’t know which way my life was going except I was going to West Virginia to meet with some people who might be friends or they might not be friends. At this point in my life they were the only people I knew who were willing to say they wanted to help me. And I thought The Cabin would be a good place to sort out my thoughts and plan my next steps in life.

First I had to get to Momma’s Restaurant.

Chapter 17

Momma and Her Daughter

This time of year provides uncertain road conditions in the hills and mountains, but I was lucky and I soon found myself in town looking for Momma’s Restaurant. The town was an old coal mining town with rebuilt sections and some newer sections. Technically it was a city and not a town. Momma’s Restaurant was in the older part of town on Main Street. The brick, flat-roofed, two-story building was not impressive. It had a single front door and a set of large windows with curtains on the bottom half completing the front. I had seen scores of place like this on my motorcycle travels. I wasn’t filled with optimism. Frankly, I had expected a nicer place from Bob.

I found a place to park and made my way into the restaurant. I had arrived during the evening’s busy time so it was crowded and noisy. That was actually a good sign. Crowds meant that the locals thought the food and prices were good there. People vote with their money. It is the purest, and maybe the only real, democratic process.

There was a counter with spinner stools to the left with the main part of the restaurant on the right as you walked in the front door. The cash register was by the door to remind people to pay on their way out. There was a toothpick dispenser by the register. The counter sat eight people and there were about fifteen tables. The tables were simple square wooden ones with blue and white checkered tablecloths. Each table had four straight-back wooden chairs. The tables could be pulled together for larger groups. I didn’t see any beer or liquor advertised and people seemed to be drinking soft drinks of various kinds.

Bob had told me to tell Momma that I was to go in the back. I didn’t see Momma anywhere. The waitresses were busy and running around like mad. I finally flagged one down and told her I wanted to see Momma. She said that Momma was busy in the back. She left me standing in the restaurant entrance wondering if she was going to get Momma. I finally decided that she wasn’t going to disturb busy Momma so I started to make my way to the kitchen.

The dishwasher came running up to me and said that I couldn’t go into the kitchen. I chuckled and told him to watch me. He got a helpless look on his face. I had a good one hundred pounds on the guy. I normally didn’t act this way but I was fed up being on the short end of the stick.

I walked in the kitchen, which was a scene of managed chaos. I had worked in kitchens like this. I recognized the activity. I spotted Momma and said hi to her. I told her I was Jack and that Bob told me to go in the back.

“Jack! I remember you from The Cabin. It is good to see you again. What are you doing here? How did you get back here? You are supposed to be in Bob’s private club area. This isn’t the back that Bob was talking about. Come this way.”

She led me out of the kitchen, through the dining area and through a door in the back. It was like moving from a black and white movie to Technicolor. The back was well decorated with a great ambiance and it was quiet. It was designed to remind one that they were in the mountains but not roughing it. The front was a place in which to eat. The back was a place in which to dine and lounge.

She said, “I’ll call Bob and tell him you are here. Meanwhile I will send in Betty, your server. You can order a drink and unwind from your trip. The restroom is to the side. Betty will take good care of you but if you need anything, you can call me. I’ve got to rush now. I hope to see you later.” And off she went.

A young woman came in who I assumed was Betty. She took my coat and hung it in a closet.

I said, “I’m Jack.”

She said, “I know.”

“So are you Betty?”

“Yes.”

We were getting on famously. Marvelous dialog. Maybe the servers weren’t supposed to socialize. I decided to let it go and ordered a Manhattan with Marker’s Mark if they had it and they did. While my drink was being manufactured, I went to wash up.

The restrooms in restaurants in small towns often leave you with the feeling that you would rather do your bathroom business at home. Fortunately for a guy it wasn’t so much of a problem. This restroom was connected only to the back room and was private. I walked in and was astonished at its size, neatness, cleanliness and tasteful appointments. It rivaled the best hotels. It was Bob’s private restroom.

When I came out, Betty had my drink ready. There was a wet bar in the corner where she had made my drink. Betty explained that Momma’s restaurant was not licensed to serve alcohol. The back was actually a private club owned by Bob so he could do what he pleased. I wasn’t to take my drink in the front part of the restaurant. Momma and her staff were caterers to Bob’s club. That made the surroundings make more sense. The dialog was starting to pick up or maybe that was just a speech she had to give.

I sampled the drink. It was excellent. It had two cherries, one crushed, and a thick orange slice. I hate thin orange slices. Thin slices say that they thought of you but didn’t care enough to give you a thick slice of orange. Cheap. Cherries are no problem because they come out of a jar but it is rare for a small bar to have fruit like the orange. Bob or Jane must have remembered that I like to drink Manhattans and made the arrangements. If so, that was very thoughtful.

Near the bar was an area with comfortable chairs and a coffee table like you would find in an upscale hotel bar. The seats were real leather. I sat down and started to relax with my drink. Betty brought in hors d’oeuvres. I was beginning to like Betty even if she didn’t talk much. She didn’t seem to have any more speeches.

I noticed a nice painting and went over to examine it. It was a touching mountain scene. I liked it a lot. You could sense the feeling that went into the painting. I looked at the corner and it was signed Frankie with a date. There was a Frankie at The Cabin, Mike’s wife, Frankie Randall. I wondered if it was her painting. I envied people with talent of any kind. The only talent I had was lightning fast reflexes for boxing. That isn’t handy in many social situations. I couldn’t sing. I could dance but I didn’t consider that a talent. Everything else I had to work hard for.

My mind began to wander. I was wondering what kind of situation I was getting into when Bob and Jane walked in. Both were all smiles. Bob came up to me to shake my hand and threw in a guy hug. Jane skipped the handshake and went right for a gal hug. It was a very warm welcome, which made me feel much better.

Both were dressed business casual. Their clothes were not fancy but they weren’t cheap. I was looking at a couple who had money to spend and spent it well. I was dressed a notch lower since I had the long drive in a pickup. Or at least that is what I told myself. Maybe it was more than one notch lower. I wished I had dressed better. The pickup had nothing to do with it. You can dress well in a pickup. I was just casting for an excuse.

Bob wanted to know if I had a drink and motioned Betty over. He said, “I want you to meet Betty. Betty is Momma’s daughter and she will take good care of us. Betty, this is Jack, a dear friend of ours. Whatever he wants, he gets as our guest.”

Once again I was a little embarrassed over Bob’s manner. I was beginning to feel like a puppy that Bob and Jane had just gotten and wanted to show off. I made a note not to pee on the floor.

I looked at Betty a little closer and I could see Momma’s looks in her face. She was in her mid-twenties and nice looking. She also looked like a woman who worked hard.

“To answer your question Bob, I ordered a Manhattan and was well into it when you and Jane came in. It was nice sitting here and unwinding from the drive over.” I didn’t mention but it was nice to unwind from more than just the drive over. I had had a tough few days or maybe it was weeks. I was surprised at how glad I was to see both of them. It brought back some bad memories but there were good memories, too.

Bob and Jane ordered drinks and started talking about food. Bob explained that I could have anything I wanted but he had some excellent beef filets that he recommended. I thought that sounded super good. We decided to go with mashed potatoes, my favorite, and sweetcorn, another favorite. We talked about asparagus but we settled on sweetcorn. It was a tough choice because I love well-prepared asparagus and I knew Momma prepared it well. Bob passed the order along to Betty and ordered a bottle of wine.

We sat in the chairs around the coffee table. I thought that was marvelous. We could sit in comfort while our dinners were being prepared. I always hated sitting in restaurant chairs waiting for food. There never was enough room for my shoulders or my legs. This was a luxurious setup that Bob maintained so he could entertain business associates who came into town. This made sense since there were not a lot of quality restaurants around but it must have cost him a lot of money. This along with The Cabin gave me the impression that Bob had a large cash flow.

Bob was careful not to make me uncomfortable but I could see that he wanted to know more about my situation. I outlined my divorce, loss of family, loss of home and loss of job. I told him I wasn’t sure what to do. I needed some time to think. I thought maybe The Cabin would be a good place to do the thinking.

Bob said that I was welcome to stay in The Cabin as long as I liked. He went on to say that there were two caveats. I thought, of course there were. Nothing in this life comes without a price tag or strings attached. I waited to hear the price.

“There are a couple of things you need to know about The Cabin. First, it is a business property and we have business functions and visitors there occasionally. In the winter people stay there to go skiing and in the summer people like the cool mountains. Everyone loves the spring in the mountains and in the fall people come for the colors. Some of the guests are business contacts, but most are paying customers. However, if you keep your door closed and locked, you will barely notice the people. If people do show up, you are free to socialize with them. That is your call. At the moment The Cabin is empty so you have it to yourself except for the second point.

“Second, we have a friend that uses an apartment there on weekends and for the summer. Her name is Lydia, Lydia Harding. She is quiet and you will barely notice her. She doesn’t like to be disturbed and has problems with some men. She basically doesn’t like men much but she isn’t a lesbian. For these reasons I caution you about trying to get too close to her. I think you will like her. She has a lot in common with you.”

I was recently divorced and I was not interested in women at the moment so keeping a distance would be no problem for me. I told Bob it sounded fine to me, plus I didn’t plan on staying very long. I just needed a little time to think.

Bob thought that the best way of handling things was for Bob, Jane and me to have a dinner with Lydia. That would give us a chance to get to know each other. Bob said he would talk with Lydia and set up a dinner that weekend if she was going to be at The Cabin.

Also, he said we would very soon have an Officer-of-the-Club dinner. I had forgotten about being an Officer-of-the-Club.

Meanwhile our dinner showed up. We moved to the table and the talking died down as we ate. The food was fabulous. She had creamed the sweetcorn and it was delicious. The food was every bit as good as the food that Momma served us at The Cabin. This time I could sit back and enjoy the dinner without worrying about it being my last meal.

After dinner, Bob made preparations to lead me over to The Cabin. I followed his car. It was dark so I didn’t think I would remember the route but I tried to memorize it the best I could so I could get back to town when needed.

A pickup truck isn’t the best vehicle in the mountains. It has almost no weight on the back drive tires. However, I had a load of heavy books and all of my worldly goods to hold the back wheels to the road.

We pulled into the drive going to The Cabin. Even in the darkness I recognized the drive. Soon The Cabin loomed on our right. It had security lights around so it was easy to see. We parked our vehicles. Bob helped me grab my luggage and we went into The Cabin.

They took me to the apartment where I stayed before. We plopped my luggage in the bedroom.

Bob said, “How is this apartment? It is okay?”

I said, “It is great. I really appreciate your letting me stay here.”

Bob proposed that we go down to the library and have a brandy. It had been a long day full of uncertainty and decisions. I was beat but I remembered the brandy. I wanted to go to bed. But on the other hand I loved Bob’s brandy plus I needed to show both Bob and Jane some courtesy. After all, I was on their turf.

The big doors were closed, isolating the library from the rest of The Cabin. Bob opened the doors and I was surprised at how warm it was in there. The rest of The Cabin outside of the apartments was rather cool since it wasn’t being used. Bob explained that he had turned the library heat up over the Internet earlier so it would be warm for us plus he didn’t let it get very cold in the library because condensation might ruin his books. He had Internet control of the lights, heat and security cameras from anywhere he had access to the Internet. Internet access was by satellite. Mike Randall had installed the system. I was reminded that Mike owned a security company.

Bob poured our drinks and we sat down. Jane mentioned that I must be tired. I admitted as much. Jane suggested that we skip a fire and go to bed early. They said they would stay the night and have breakfast with me if that was okay. The brandy was starting to have its effect on me so I was agreeable to any reasonable plan.