Nobody Knows Your Secret

C
opyright
© 2016 by Jeri Green

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

I
t was a moonless night
. Only a blind man or someone who knew the landscape like the back of his hand could navigate this darkness. The flimsy lock on the trailer’s door would have given way easily enough. But it wasn’t a problem. The door was unlocked.

Heavy metal music bombarded the thin walls of the cracker box, and the trailer pulsed and vibrated to its beat. The place was a mess inside. Filthy take-out containers littered the floor. Beer cans were strewn all over the room like confetti. The air smelled stale, on the verge of rotten. Kyle lay sprawled across the couch, a thick rope of slime cascading from his open mouth.

“Worthless piece a trash,” the voice muttered.

Tonight’s visitor did not have to worry about disturbing Kyle. He was too high to know he was in this world. Passed out. Sleeping off another shot of heroin.

Where were the kids, Emily and Luke? There was no sign of Candy, Kyle’s girlfriend. Kyle was alone. Alone. No witnesses.

Too easy.

Pop!

Kyle was so relaxed he didn’t even flinch. Just stopped breathing. Just stopped.

“Worthless piece a trash,” the voice muttered, closing the door while the angry music blasted away.

“
I
s that Teddy Croft
?” asked Hadley. “It sure looks like him.”

“It can’t be,” Maury said. “There hasn’t been a whiff of that man in years. I think Rayna offed Teddy, Hadley. I really do. Maybe for the insurance money or something. After what she did to Eustian Singlepenny, it just ain’t no telling what that cold-blooded killer is capable of.”

Maury was fiddling with a lock of hair. She had a habit of twirling it between her fingers whenever she was nervous.

“I don’t say this lightly, Hadley, but I’m glad Rayna Croft is rotting in jail. I’m really happy she’s locked away forever. When I think of that woman sittin’ in that library confessing flat out to murder, it sends shivers down my spine. I feel like I’m sittin’ naked on a iceberg. If I thought for one single, solitary minute Rayna would ever get out of the pokey, I’d make Bill move to China. I mean it.”

“I know what you’re saying,” said Hadley. “It was shocking. You may think you know a person, inside and out, but you never really do. Everyone is a mystery. Nobody can know someone’s darkest secrets. It’s scary if you think about it. But I still can’t help feeling sorry for Rayna. You’re right, though, she will rot in the state pen. Maybe I should send her a card.”

“What kind? What you gonna do, scratch out ‘Get well soon, Dearie’ and replace it with ‘Can’t be cheery if you are near me. Made any new friends in the hoosegow?’”

“No,” Hadley said, “of course not. But have you ever thought about what you might do if the negligence of another person killed your child?”

“Junior wasn’t Rayna’s blood,” Maury said, tormenting the strand of hair. Hadley wondered if it the whole lock wouldn’t come floating down on Maury’s shoulder right there in front of her eyes. And what about the damage she was doing to her follicles, not to mention the actual strands? Split-end city.

“You can love a stepchild as much as your own,” Hadley said. “I love Onus, and he’s just a stray tabby who decided to make his home at my house.”

Maury stood on the sidewalk twining her hair into a nice, tangled knot.

“Come on, Maury,” Hadley said. “Get in the car.”

“What are you going to do?” Maury asked.

If she didn’t slow down on the nervous twirls, Maury was going to make an eggshell look furry.

“Follow him,” Hadley said.

“Let me get this straight, dear sister. You’re going to follow a total stranger around Hope Rock County?” Maury said.

Yep, Maury’s fingers were surely a blur of nervous energy. Hadley suppressed the urge to cough as images of furry egg shells tickled her throat.

“Why not?” Hadley said. “It’s a free country.”

“Well,” Maury said, “it might be a free country, but if that man catches us and decides we’re stalking him, it won’t be so free for you and me. At the very least, Bill Whittaker will rake us over the washboard. You may not mind a dressing down from the sheriff, Hadley, but Bill’s my husband. Remember? I have to live with the ogre. He’ll be an ill pill for no tellin’ how long.”

“You’re not fooling me, Maury,” Hadley said, amazed that the hair in her sister’s head still clung to her scalp, “you’re just afraid those horizontal stripes on those prison jumpsuits will make you look fat.”

Maury was still trying to make her mind up whether or not it would be worth the grief Bill would give her if they landed in deep do do. This would probably end up being just a wild goose chase. But if she didn’t go, what would she miss? Something spectacular. Something extraordinary. Or maybe not. Back and forth, Maury swung in indecision.

“Maury,” Hadley said, “it’s now or never. Either you glue your bottom to this car seat right now, or I’m driving off without you.”

“All right, Hadley Jane. Don’t get your panties in an uproar. I’m coming, but I’m letting you know right here, if we drown in hot water, it’s all your fault.”

Standing of the street corner in front of the Greasy Spoon, Maury had an unobstructed view of one stop light to the other. Since there were only two lights on Main Street, Hadley and Maury also had a totally clear view of their target.

Hadley cranked up the car, gunning the motor, as Maury ducked into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Hadley pulled out onto Main, and the two sisters were off on their wild goose chase.

H
adley followed
the stranger’s car out of town.

“Careful. Don’t get too close. He’ll spot us,” Maury said “If he does, he’ll bolt like a rabbit.”

“You watch too many cop shows,” Hadley said. “Besides, this is a curvy, two-lane road. The only place to bolt
to
is over the side of the mountain. That’s a real nice car, Maury. I wonder if it’s stolen?”

“Do you think it is?” said Maury. “It looks really expensive.”

“I really does. I wonder who died and left Teddy Croft a golden goose,” Hadley said. “Maybe, he hitched up with some rich, old woman. You know the kind. Old as last year’s pot roast. Lonely. Needy. Two feet in the grave and peering out over the top of the hole. Begging for the attention of a man. Any man.

“I’ll bet Teddy’s stole some dead person’s identity. You know what I mean. He poses as other guy, this Joe Blow. That way, it wouldn’t show up he was still married to Rayna. That could explain how he’s fallen off the grid.

“Why, if he’s posing as somebody else, Teddy could have married the old gal on the spot. Had her change her will, you know. Leave the whole kit and caboodle to him. Knock her off, then bingo! Teddy hits the jackpot!

“Then, he wouldn’t have to steal a fine car like that. Just go to the lot, pick out whatever strikes his fancy. Then, boom! Drops a pile of loot and drives it back here to Hope Rock County.”

“Well, if that is what happened,” Maury said, “I don’t want him eyeballing us. Don’t get so close that he can make out who we are. We could be next on his list. Rayna murdered once when she killed Eustian Singlepenny.

“Teddy might be a serial killer, too, for all we know. I do not want to be next! Not so close, I told you! He mustn’t see it’s us who are following him! He knows us, Hadley, and we can identify him! That marks us as dead, for sure.”

“I think you’re overreacting, Sis,” Hadley said. “If he happens to look in his rearview mirror, he’ll only catch an eyeful of two slightly, over-the-hill joy riders wearing huge sunglasses that cover half their faces. Teddy Croft hasn’t seen us in years.”

“Can you be so sure about that?” Maury asked.

“Well, no,” Hadley said. “But I think there’s a pretty good chance I’m right. I think there’s nothing to worry about. He’ll peg us for tourists who are out sightseeing. Nobody ever takes this road but farmers and tourists, Maury. And I left the tractor and the plow at home.”

“Balls o’ fyar! Hadley! Hadley! Look at that! He’s turning into the wildlife rescue! What if Teddy’s going after Ruth!”

“Tar nation! Going after Ruth!” Hadley exclaimed. “Wait a minute!”

Hadley took her eyes off the road for a second to glance at Maury.

“What are you talking about?” Hadley said. “Why would he do that? Ruth was away at veterinary school when Teddy disappeared. Why would he be after Ruth? Did you eat mushrooms for lunch? I think you’re hallucinating.”

“Yes, I did,” Maury said. “But only on my sub sandwich. Gosh, if Teddy Croft is a serial killer, a mass murderer, then he’s crazy! Logic doesn’t come into play, here! Not when you’re talking lunatic-madman-serial-mass-murderer. Oh, Hadley! I’m so worried, I could bust out in hives! We’re probably dealing with a psychopath! Stomp on the gas! Hurry up! Oh, sweet molasses! We’ve got to save Ruth!”

Hadley made a sharp right into the amusement park entrance. It was always jarring. Spooky. Turning into a place where fun had died was unnerving. Like visiting a graveyard and seeing someone else there dressed in black and carrying a sickle on Halloween night.

Ruth Elliot, a local vet, inherited the land from her uncle, Vance Odis, an amusement park developer whose dreams went bust in the 1970s. Poor Vance. It seemed his efforts had been cursed from the start. He closed the gates to the park and lived out the remainder of his life quietly in his small, white-frame house on the side of Hiker’s Bluff.

The property sat abandoned for years. Odis had no children. His wife was dead. When his last will and testament was read, Ruth was left everything Vance owned. She sold her uncle’s house and the lands he owned in Hiker’s Bluff, but kept the large tract on the mountain where the old amusement park lay in ruin. Located in the center of the park was a large nature area. Ruth converted the outbuildings and the space into a recovery area for injured and orphaned wildlife.

MEGA Mountain Funland Park was the dream of a die hard Walt Disney wannabe
.
The amusement park idea was born and nurtured in the fevered mind of a man whose youth was spent following his vagabond father all over the world, chasing one get-rich scheme after another. All the places where the Odis family made their home were burned into Vance’s mind.

As a young boy, he’d lived in one storybook location after another. Vance never forgot the impressions those exotic locales left on him. The vibrant greens of the African jungle, the golden sunsets of the South Pacific islands, the mesmerizing and ever-changing hues sunlight played on the walls of the Grand Canyon. All of his childhood recollections glowed in his memory like the iridescent paints of an artist’s palette. Those memories fueled Vance as he built his amusement park in the backwoods of the Blue Ridge Mountains. He dreamed of a place where fun, excitement, and a white-knuckle adrenaline rush were everyday experiences.

Visitors entered MEGA Park through the mouth of a colossal Chinese clown’s head. The white-faced mascot stood a towering three stories high. Its forehead was broad and almost too wide for its pointy chin. A conical hat decorated with rainbow-colored stars and swirls sat atop the clown’s bald head. Leaning way too far over the round head, the hat gave the impression it might topple off and fall onto the ground at any second.

The big red ball on the end of the clown’s nose had been dented during the construction of the park. Vance never bothered to have it fixed, and it looked like the poor clown had been socked in the kisser by one gigantic, brass-knuckled fist.

The almond eyes on the clown’s face were bugged and stuck out over his cheek bones. Their irises glowered at the ground. They lay low in the sockets, hugging the lower eyelids. Three-quarters of the eyeballs were left to the elements, glaring white. Instead of merriment, their glare was disquieting, almost frightening. Toddlers and little kids had been known to burst into tears at the sight of the grotesque giant. When darkness fell, the whites of the clown’s eyes glowed eerily, lighting up the night sky for miles.

It had to be some sort of trick with the light and the way the artist had painted in the irises, but most visitors swore that clown’s eyes followed them as they walked up to the gaping mouth, a black cave – opened, waiting, waiting, waiting to gobble up visitors who dared to enter.

Heavy black eyebrows arched upward, lending an air of terror or surprise. But there was something about those eyes. Those surreal windows into that clown’s soul seemed almost human. How could paints and plaster seem so real? So evil?

“Hey,” someone would mutter, “I thought clowns were supposed to be funny. This one is flat out creepy.”

It was a sentiment often repeated.

The bright red lips on the clown’s mouth were grotesquely large and way out of proportion to the rest of his face. A wide smile stretched the cheekbones, deepening the creases on either side of the mouth, turning a warm welcome into a grimace. The bright, bloody-red upper lip rolled back, exposing a thick, dark pink gum. Long, crooked, oversized teeth, once white and slighted pointed, were now stained and grimed and dirty. Step inside the cavernous darkness and canned laughter began to play. In stereophonic surround sound, the visitors heard cackles and snickers and chortles and guffaws echoing about the cave.

But it wasn’t the jolly laughter of a clown playfully inviting the visitors inside. There was something tense and strained about it. Vance always said the acoustics in that big, hollow head weren’t worth mud. And perhaps that was it, but many came away remarking that the walk through that head was like a walk through a very bad nightmare.

A seam connected the head of the Chinese clown to its base. It was supposed to resemble a short, stubby neck, but on either side of the immense, bloody-red, lower-lipped entrance, large metal clips held the head to the base. The seam was ill fitting and great uneven gaps marked either side. Nothing was done to camouflage this area. The effect was much like a decapitated clown wearing a large, badly stitched scar from one side of his neck to the other, much like Frankenstein’s neck.

At the back of the Chinese head, one path veered to the right, another to the left. Choose to go to the right, and the visitor entered the tyke’s park. The carousel rose from the asphalt beckoning the children to ride on the back of the galloping horse, the roaring lion, the fierce tiger, the racing hare, the zebra, the giraffe, the ostrich, the camel, the unicorn. All of the animals welcomed the rider to experience the thrill of spinning round and round on their brilliantly colored, shiny backs.

There was a miniature Ferris wheel with tiny red, blue, and yellow enclosed cars. A train with an elephant engine carried animal-themed cars around the perimeter of the area. A ride with cupcake cars went spinning round and round. Space rockets and airplanes chased each other on another ride. A small version of a roller coaster with giant, happy ladybug cars traveled up and down in a scaled-down version of the thrill ride. Costumed characters wandered among the crowd selling trinkets and balloons. Lights, flags, laughter, and the smells of cotton candy filled this side of the park.

To the left were the rides and games that appealed to older children and adults. The park was crammed with as many games, rides, and animals as possible. A wooden roller coaster called The Blue Cyclone rose to terrifying heights and descended to gut-twisting depths. An enormous Ferris wheel rose high above the treetops offering the rider an amazing view of the mountain vistas. A funhouse warned the faint of heart not to enter its terrifying halls. A pendulum ride, a drop tower, giant swings, and myriad other stomach-churning rides dotted the grounds. There were games of chance, a small-gauge train complete with a depot, a petting zoo, pony rides, and an arcade onsite.

No age group was overlooked.

Fun for the whole family had been promised at MEGA Mountain until the fateful day when The Blue Cyclone malfunctioned. Fatalities and severe injuries occurred. It was a nightmare. Claire and Cleve Winthrop survived. But Virgie’s daughter, Claire, had been severely injured. MEGA Mountain Funland Park had breathed its last thrilling, chilling breath. The once glorious rides and buildings had succumbed to the ravages of time and the harsh mountain winters. The faded sounds of children’s laughter haunted the dying landscape.

“Hadley,” Maury said.

Hadley noted the car they were tailing pulled off onto the gravel service road behind the parking lot of the defunct park. The stranger pulled up to the service security gate and stopped.

“Ummm,” Hadley answered, watching the car ahead. The man behind the wheel leaned out of his window and said a few words into the access gate intercom. Hadley waited. Sure enough, the gate unlatched, and the car drove through.

“Hadley, look! He was buzzed in,” said Maury.

“Yeah,” Hadley said. “Maybe it was the way the sun hit him back in town or maybe I need my bifocals changed, but when he stuck his head out of the window to talk into the intercom, he didn’t look like Teddy.”

“Do you want to go in?” Maury asked.

“Nah. It’s not like Ruth was expecting us. Besides, it’s getting late. We’re scheduled day after tomorrow for another shift at the wildlife rescue. I guess I can wait till then to ask Ruth who this mysterious stranger is. Maybe he’s somebody interested in volunteering or something. I don’t know. Come on, Maury. It’s time we ended this snipe hunt and headed home.”

“We did get our adrenaline pumping for a while, though,” Maury said. “You looked like someone straight out of the movies taking those twists and turns on Rocky Way Road at top speed.”

“Top speed!” Hadley said. “A top speed of 30 miles an hour.”

“Well,” said Maury, “sitting over here on my side, it felt faster.”

“That was because you were all hunched forward with your face close to the windshield. I’m thinking about gluing you to the hood of this car. The way you crane your neck out, you’d make a beauty of a hood ornament, Maury. You’d add some real class to this jalopy of mine.”

“Shut up, Hadley,” Maury said.

“We’ll be on the downhill going home,” Hadley said. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll live real dangerously and push it to 45.”

“Don’t let Brinkley hear you say that,” said Maury.

“Yeah. Better go easy on the speed. If I burn out the brakes, Brinkley won’t be happy, at all. He just put new shoes on the back a couple of weeks ago. Brinkley’s a good mechanic, but he’s made it perfectly clear I’ll have to walk over hot coals before he loans me his truck, again. He’s so worried everybody will start bugging him to borrow that heap. Most folks wouldn’t slide their butts in the seat until they doused the cab with a good dose of disinfectant. There’s so much grease and grime in that thing, I’m surprised the health department hasn’t hung a condemned sign on the tailgate.”

“Yeah,” said Maury.

“He does keep the engine of that old truck purring like a kitten, though,” Hadley said. “I’ll give him that. Brinkley’s a topnotch mechanic but a lousy housekeeper. You’re right, Maury, I better be nice to old Betsy and keep her on the road. Sorry, you won’t feel the wind streaming through your hair.”