A Shadow of Death in The Woods (5 page)

Paul wasn’t sure what to think or do. He was going to have to wait until morning and see what kind of data Mike’s guys could dig up on a Saturday night. Meanwhile he would talk carefully with Liz to get her true feelings. God, what a mess.

Chapter 5

Live or Die

Everyone knows, more or less, that they are going to die sometime. Mostly, it is less. No one really thinks it is going to happen. Not to them. Probably happen to other people. Or maybe in the future. Now when the words “this afternoon” or “tomorrow” are added to “you are going to die,” it gets your attention. Your mortality becomes a real thing that you can almost taste or smell. It was Sunday but I didn’t think that fact was going to change my circumstances or my chances of living. Today I would live or die, go home or stay in West Virginia forever.

I got up around 6
a
.
m
. I usually rise earlier but all the drinking last night made me sleep longer. I wasn’t hung over much because I drank a quart of water before going to sleep. That helps counterbalance the dehydrating effect of the alcohol although it means you are probably going to have to get up in the night to pee.

I showered, shaved and got dressed. I made my way down to the kitchen as quietly as I could, not knowing if others were asleep or up. I found Momma in the kitchen. She seemed in a good mood and was busy getting ready to prepare breakfast.

The night before I made arrangements with her that I would cook cream filled crepes with the choice of strawberries or bananas for breakfast. She was a little concerned that Bob wouldn’t like it since he was paying her for making breakfast. I told her that Bob and I were good friends and that it would be fine. She knew that I was stretching the fabric of truth but she went along with it. Momma knew how to get along.

She was busy making fresh squeezed orange juice. I started the cream cheese filling for the crepes. It took the longest to cook and you could let it sit for a while. After that I would make the batter for the crepes while the grill was heating up. I loved cooking for a hobby but would hate to do it for a living.

Momma kept a sharp eye on me. I didn’t know whether she was trying to steal my recipe or if she didn’t trust me to make a fine breakfast. She was a professional and had been hired by Bob so she wasn’t about to abandon the breakfast preparation to a bumbling bum off the street, or, in this case, off the highway.

I had her put the glasses in the refrigerator to cool them for the orange juice and I had her put eight plates in the warming oven to warm them. It is senseless to put hot or warm food on cold plates. It just sucks the heat out of the food. At the same time you don’t want the plates to be too hot and burn your guests. And crisscross, you want cool items to go into cool dishes. We had mint sprigs for green to complement the strawberries and bananas and we had whipped cream to spoil everyone’s diet. Details of presentation count when serving food.

Momma questioned the eight plates. She said that she was told there would be seven for breakfast, the same as dinner. I told her that one plate was for her.

Momma ground fresh coffee beans and put on a large pot of coffee. Things were looking up when a look of concern crossed her face. I turned and Bob was standing in the kitchen with a frown on his face.

I said, “Good morning, Bob. I hope you don’t mind my messing around in your kitchen, which by the way, is a great kitchen.”

He said, “Good morning, Jack” and turned to Momma and said, “I thought I hired you to make breakfast.”

I jumped in and said, “Whoa, this isn’t her doing. In fact, she was very much against it but I talked her into it. I like to cook and I think you will like the results. Besides if you don’t like it, you can always shoot me.”

A strange look flickered across his face that probably wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. I was watching his face closely. There is nothing like the threat of an execution to hone your senses.

Bob relaxed with a smile and said he was looking forward to breakfast. I heard the others coming downstairs so Momma and I got busy with the crepes. I had told her how she could help and soon we had the plates loaded with the crepes sprinkled with confectionery sugar, some topped with fresh strawberries and some topped with the banana slices, a sprig of mint and fresh fruits on the side. And, oh, yeah, whipped cream. Sugar and fat are the basic ingredients for a good time.

We all, except Momma, sat down to eat. I knew Momma had her plate of crepes in the kitchen. Breakfast went well but a little too fast for me. I wasn’t looking forward to the day.

I noticed that Mike kept receiving calls on his cell phone as he had the night before. He never excused himself. He just quietly disappeared for a few minutes and then reappeared without a word. His expression never changed. They were obviously business calls. He had his phone set on vibrate to minimize the disturbance. In fact, if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t notice the calls.

On the last call, he gave Bob a look and the two of them disappeared. Could this have something to do with my fate? I couldn’t see Bob taking business calls on a Sunday morning, especially when he had a guest. Well, maybe I wasn’t exactly a guest. I was more of an inconvenience. I still liked to think of myself as a guest although I could understand that terminology could vary, depending on how things were going to go. He wasn’t the kind of guy who you would call on a Sunday morning. If someone called, it would be him. He was the boss.

Bob and Mike disappeared for several minutes. I could feel the tension in the room. Paul was tense although he was hiding it well. The women kept up the conversation with Paul helping but it felt like they were doing a job.

Except maybe for Frankie. She was a sweetheart, so bubbly and charming. It struck me that she was maybe one of the smartest people in the room. I was resisting the urge to fall in love with her. I thought probably Mike had me sit across from her so I wouldn’t notice him leaving the room every few minutes.

I remembered that Bob told me Mike was in charge of security for his company and Mike had a security businesses of his own. Was I the subject of the phone calls? Was he checking me out? He certainly would have the resources to do it.

Frankie was beaming and chatting. I wondered: Was she clueless and didn’t know her husband was probably going to blow my brains out later that morning? Or, was it that she didn’t care? Mother Nature makes strange packages along with the help of incompetent parents, and most parents are incompetent. There is seldom any training for parents unless you are lucky enough to have grandparents around who have learned from their mistakes and know what they are doing.

Mike and Bob came back into the room. Their faces were inscrutable. We finished eating by having coffee with cinnamon rolls that Momma had baked, probably instead of sleeping. They were delicious. Unlike commercial rolls, hers were not loaded with sugar and there was no sugar drizzled on top. She had added raisins, a nice touch that you don’t see in commercial rolls. Actually her rolls were commercial but she made them herself to suit Bob and his crew.

Bob turned to his wife and said, “Jane, why don’t you show Jack the lake. I’ll come down in a few minutes. I have to take care of some business first.”

Jane got up saying, “Of course. It is a beautiful morning to take a walk.” She gave no sign of what was to come. She had adjusted remarkably well since yesterday.

Jane and I went out a patio door and started down a trail that led to the lake. It was hard for me to enjoy the scenery when constantly thinking this would be the last scenery that I would see.

Suddenly an image of my family came into view and I grew sad, knowing that we would never see each other again, at least not on this earth. Maybe my eyes teared for I heard Jane asking if I was okay. I mumbled something about the overwhelming scenery. I am sure she took it as pure BS.

In a short time we were at the lake. It was bigger than I expected. The dam was to our right as we looked at the lake. We walked out on the dock and looked at the boats. There were big pontoon boats for entertaining and smaller boats for fishing. I remember Bob telling me that the lake was stocked with fish. I forgot what kind of fish. I don’t like to fish. The pontoon boat had an awning for shade so we went aboard and sat in deck chairs.

I faked interest but it was getting harder and harder to listen to Jane. Thoughts of mortality crowded into my thinking constantly. I knew things were coming to a head. I didn’t know if Jane noticed my distraction but I was sure her job was to keep me occupied while my fate was being debated and decided.

I was thinking about having a nervous breakdown when I spotted Bob coming down the trail. He was a fast walker and was coming fast. Somehow it didn’t surprise me he would be such a fast walker. He struck me a being a very aggressive man. A leader.

As he approached, I could see that he was smiling but with restraint. I couldn’t contain myself any longer and asked, “Is the voting over?”

The question brought Bob up short. I could see he wasn’t expecting it and was at a loss as to how to answer, if at all. He quickly recovered and laughed. He surprised me by telling Jane to please go back to The Cabin. I began thinking that the news was not going to be good. Maybe I had misinterpreted his smile. Some people smile when they are tense. Maybe it was a nervous thing and not good news.

I was filled with remorse. I was so sorry to abandon my family. It was selfish of me to go on a motorcycle trip and get killed. Worse, this way they would never know what happened to me. Perhaps that was worse than the dying. They could only assume I didn’t love them anymore and simply rode off. I thought of trying to talk Bob into notifying my family but then I realized how stupid that wish was. A murderer was not likely notify your family that he had just killed you.

Bob could see the anguish on my face. I told him I was thinking about my family and I could see that it had a big effect on him. He said, “Look, I don’t think it is going to be all that bad. I think it is going to work out okay.”

I replied, “When I rode up to The Cabin, I figured that I had a fifty-fifty chance of going home but since then I have degraded it to thirty to forty percent chance of survival.”

Bob said, “Look, I can see you are a smart guy and you have things figured out but you are way too pessimistic. I can’t say for sure but I think it is going to work out fine.”

That is just what your executioner is going to say to calm you so you won’t be so much of a bother to kill. I was on needles and pins. The hours of wondering were wearing me down. My shirt was soaked with sweat.

Just then Bob’s phone rang. I was so nervous I jumped. He answered and silently listened but a smile started to form on his face. He closed the phone, turned me and said, “It is over. You are in.”

I didn’t know what I was in but Bob looked like a guy who just had a ton weight lifted from his shoulders. I hadn’t realized how tense he was until it was over. I asked Bob what it was that I was in. He said, “You are an Officer-of-the-Club. Come on, those guys are celebrating and they’ll drink all of my brandy if we don’t get there soon.”

I didn’t know what to make of the situation. If you are going to shoot someone, you don’t come right out and announce it. You want to do the opposite and get your victim relaxed and unsuspecting. This could be a trick but Bob seemed genuinely happy.

We walked into the library. Everyone was smiling and relaxed except Mike. He looked cautious, not unhappy, just cautious. Paul came over and congratulated me on being an Officer-of-the-Club. All of the women came to me one by one and gave me a hug and congratulations. Lastly, Mike came to me and shook my hand and congratulated me. There was no hostility but there didn’t seem to be a lot of warmth like that coming from the others.

Bob said, “We need to seal the deal with a glass. He got out seven brandy glasses and poured a generous amount in each.”

I was hoping to ride back to Ohio that day and didn’t want to do much drinking but when your execution has just been stayed and it looks like you are going to live a while, a drink seems in order. I gladly took my glass but I could see that my hand was shaking. No one seemed to notice. We lifted our glasses to friendship.

I made a little speech of thanks and expressed my desire to get back to Ohio.

Bob exclaimed, “Not before you have some lunch. It is almost 11
a.m.
and
Momma will be here in a few minutes to fix us some lunch.”

I wondered how many she had been told to cook for but with cold cuts and cheese it didn’t matter. I was happy to get some food down with the alcohol before I rode. With lunch it would be more than an hour before I was on the bike so I would be fine. Plus with my body weight a shot, even a big one, didn’t have much effect on me.

I was beginning to feel much relieved when Mike sidled up to me. He grabbed my arm in what felt like a vise and looked me in the eye the best he could since he was considerably shorter than I. Short or not he was the first man in my adult life that I could genuinely say that I feared. He held my arm in his vise like grip and said, “Bob means a lot to me. He has saved my life on more than one occasion. I want to thank you for saving his life and for saving Jane’s life.” He then grabbed my hand, shook it and moved off as if he was embarrassed.

Right up to that moment I would have sworn that he was the holdout and wanted me executed. Maybe not. Maybe it was Paul but it was hard to believe. I thought about the women. Could one or more of them hold out for my execution? My father taught me to watch out for beautiful women. He said a beautiful woman could turn on you as fast as a homely one and perhaps sooner. Was Frankie holding out to do me in?