Symphony of Blood, A Hank Mondale Supernatural Case (30 page)

She walked into the next room. “Pretty gross. It hasn’t been cleaned in a long time.”

“Well get started then. I saw a bunch of stuff in the laundry room.”

She groaned, then looked around the corner at me. “You’re serious?”

“Let’s go princess. Get cracking.”

She flashed me her trademark
screwface
, which I ignored as I walked away. I stepped down to the garage, grabbed the grocery bags from the car, carried two in one hand and one in the other, nudged the car door closed with my knee, and walked back inside the house.

To my surprise, when I got back to the kitchen, she had a rag in one hand and a spray bottle in the other and was cleaning an unplugged refrigerator.

“Impressive.”

“Don’t mock me, Hank.”

“You’re right. My fault.” I looked over her shoulder and the fridge looked clean. It didn’t smell moldy which was good enough for me. I reached around back, found the plug and plugged it into an outlet. “That should take a little time to get going.” For the first time, I took a good look in the bags. Angie had taken good care of us. There were a few boxes of pasta and sauce, some cereal—mostly stuff that would keep. There was milk and some meat which we’d need to get in the fridge, but I figured it would keep okay for an hour or two while the motor got going.

Mackenzie grabbed the edge of a bag and peeked in, then nodded and said, “Good old Angie. She knows how to buy for friends going into hiding.”

“Guess she has that happen all the time.”

“Well, she’s been through the wringer once or twice.”

“I guess, with that boyfriend.”

“He’s okay.”

“Not as nice as her, that’s for sure.”

“No. He’s not,” she agreed. “Come on. I have something you really want.”

She walked back into the living room, then to another small, adjoining room. In it, there was a bar. She pulled at a wooden cabinet door and I heard the snap of magnets separating. The bar was stocked with about fifteen bottles of liquor.

“Here,” she said, handing me a bottle of Jack Daniels. “I don’t think we have any Jim Beam.”

“This will do just fine.” I eyeballed the bottle somewhat dubiously.

“What? It’s what you like, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect.” I put it back down on the table. “I’ll have some later.”

“Really?”

“You heard me.”

“You aren’t going to be a total annoying square, are you?”

I shook my head. “You’re a big girl. Just remember what we’re up against.”

“I want to forget.”

“No. We can’t forget. We have to stay focused.”

“Symphony will find us here. We can’t stay here forever.”

“Who says I want to hide from Symphony?”

That
screwface
again…then she said, “Are you serious? What are you up to?”

“Listen, I don’t know what you and your father have done. And frankly, I don’t need to know. But what I do know is the only way to clear my name is catch that thing.”

“Catch it?”

“You heard me.”

“You think you can catch Symphony. No way. You’ll be dead.”

“We’re dead anyway. We have to try.” I reached into my beltline and pulled out my gun. Even though I knew it was loaded, I checked it, then clicked off the safety. “I’ll be ready for your friend.”

“With that? Come on. Come with me.”

She walked towards the utility room, then past the garage, into another small room. She opened a closet and in it was a gun rack with several rifles, and a shotgun. She grabbed the shotgun and handed it to me.

“At least give us a fighting chance. The shells are in the garage. I’ll go get them.”

* *

Nightfall came and I set up a lounge chair on the edge of the dunes. I sunk in, shotgun laid across the armrest and the bottle of Jack Daniels between my legs. I wasn’t going to get drunk, just a few sips here and there to keep the edge off. Mackenzie was inside, keeping to herself, which was fine by me.

The night seemed to fly by. I was too antsy to sleep, spending most of the dark, moonlit hours in that chair, listening to the waves crash into the sand. It didn’t get tiring, and the novelty didn’t wear off.

Hours quickly passed, and waves crashed, and I was content to watch, and wait.

* *

I slept the days, and she slept the nights. This went on for about a week. She ate pasta, and I ate egg sandwiches and occasionally fired up the stainless steel outdoor grill and cooked up the meat we had. We had enough supplies to last a few more days, a week at most. Sooner or later, we’d have to journey out. Unless the creature showed itself first.

Sipping Jack Daniels, but making sure to stay sharp, the evenings came and went. I’d circle the house, and under cover of darkness, I went as far as walking to the gate out front, but I didn’t cross it as if I was a puppy and it an electric fence. We needed to stay undetected, and that was the barrier I refused to cross. The old gate stayed shut, and shut tight.

I kept my phone off, not wanting to give our position away. There was a chance the police were trying to track us. Still, there also may have been important messages waiting for me. Finally, I broke down and turned it on. A little envelope instantly lit up on the screen, signifying there were messages waiting.

The first message was from Sandy. I hit the button and let it play.

Hank. It’s me. Your mother and I are worried sick about you. She’s called here several times. Call me. Please.

I deleted the message. Then played the next message.

Henry, it’s your
mutha
…

I immediately deleted that message without listening to the rest of it. I knew she was worried sick. I played the next message.

Henry, it’s your
mutha
again…

I deleted the message, then played the next one.

Hank, it’s Flip. Come by and see me. Okay, buddy. Bye.

I wasn’t sure what he knew, but he wanted his money either way. I quickly deleted two more messages from my mother, and one from Sandy, and then there was a message from Victor that I let play.

Hank. It’s Vic. We need to talk. ASAP. Call me. It’s very important.

Victor had something important to tell me. Something he didn’t want to leave on the voicemail. I didn’t like it. I also didn’t want to return his call, but I knew if I could trust anyone in the world, it was Vic. So, I called his cellphone.

He answered quickly and recognized my number right away. “Hank! Are you okay?”

“For the moment.”

“Where are you? I’ve been worried, man.”

“I know. I know. You left a message. What’s up?”

“The Westchester cops executed a search warrant on Blake’s place.”

“And?”

“And…the hound dogs found a tooth, in the back end of the property, in the grass near an empty animal cage.”

“Whose tooth?”

“The missing gardener.”

I nodded to myself, but didn’t say a word.”

“They also found traces of blood inside the cage. Any guesses who it belongs to?”

“I’m
gonna
guess someone who’s missing.”

“Yeah. Bill Palmer. Blake’s business partner.”

“Yup. I can’t say I’m shocked.”

“Yeah, well you should be, Hank. Your employer is a murderer.”

“It sounds that way.”

“You know what else they found?”

“Tell me, please.”

“They found other traces of blood in the animal cage. Nicki
Leifson’s
blood.”

I shook my head back and forth. I wasn’t completely shocked, but I didn’t like what it meant one bit.

“They let the dogs loose, and they found her. All of her, buried in a shallow grave in the woods deep into the grounds.”

“I see. That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not good. They are both dirty on this, father and daughter.”

“Sounds like it.”

“You need to turn yourself in and tell what you know. Fuck this loyalty to your client bullshit. You’re in deep enough already. You need to get your ass down here and get a lawyer, pronto.”

“It’s not about loyalty. It’s about saving my ass.”

“What are you up to, Hank?”

“Blake may have killed Palmer and that poor gardener, and I’m really sorry to hear about that young girl, but the
Blakes
didn’t kill their employees in that bloodbath.”

“Then who did? Hank, just tell me what you know.”

“I’ll be in touch, Vic.”

“Damn you, Hank. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

“
Gotta
go. Thanks, Vic.”

“Hank!” His voice cut off abruptly as I snapped the phone shut.

Sooner or later, the creature would show itself. Worst case, the cops would find us and bring me in; I’d have to deal with that issue eventually anyway. In the meantime, I just relaxed and listened to the waves. It just didn’t get old. My mother was a wreck. Sandy was panicking. Even poor Vic, always calm and collected, was losing his composure, thanks to me.

But I was calm. Content to an almost shocking level, considering the situation.

The waves kept me serene. They were beautiful to watch, and just as beautiful to the ears. It made me realize, I’d never seen the Pacific. Forty-two years old and never once made it to the west coast. I decided if and when this mess was over, I’d go west, and see the Pacific Ocean.

The waves of the Pacific must be beautiful. If they were half as wondrous as the Atlantic, they’d be amazing, and from what I’d heard, they were twice as nice.

I made a vow that I was going to see for myself.

* *

Loud crashing of water hitting the dunes woke me. I blinked, and slowly opened my eyes to see the white-capped swells reach their height, then quickly collapse into the sand. The shotgun lay at my feet, the bottle of whiskey not far to the right of the gun.

Sound carried through an open window: Mackenzie’s voice, talking, shouting even. Did she realize the window was open? Did she have any idea that I was awake?

“I know he knows too much. But he can still help us.”

There was a long pause. Obviously, she had no idea I was awake. I figured she was probably upstairs in the bedroom that she’d made hers. She’d been sleeping in a second floor bedroom, one of four, but not the master bedroom. She may have been looking out the window, but I doubted it. I stayed perfectly still anyway.

The pause continued, then she spoke. It was hard to tell exactly what she was saying. The waves continued to crash, drowning out her voice as she was no longer shouting. Then, she spoke up again, and I heard her very clearly.

“Careful. He has your shotgun.”

It was her father. He was alive, and he was coming. And he didn’t like the idea that I was still around. He must not have been that close, or else he’d have tried something already. He wanted me to guard his precious Mackenzie until he was able to get to us. That had to be his plan.

I lay still in the chair, watching the waves. She may have been looking out, and I didn’t want her to have any idea that I’d heard her conversation.

It was easy for me to lay still. I loved watching the waves crash into the beach.

* *

The sun was setting as I walked up from the beach, slid the glass door, then walked inside the house. Mackenzie was nowhere to be found. I stood still in the dim living room and listened.

Nothing but a faint sound of waves crashing into the surf off in the distance. I didn’t turn on a light.

Finally, I heard a toilet flush, then a sink running. Shotgun loaded and pointed towards the ground, I advanced towards the bathroom. The slender, white door was closed; light escaped through the doorjamb.

When I reached the door, I stood there for a few seconds. The water continued to run. I leaned closer to the door, and heard some scuffling but couldn’t quite distinguish the sounds.

I rapped my knuckles three times against the door.

“Mackenzie?”

She didn’t answer, so I knocked three more times. The water stopped.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just checking up.”

“Be out in a minute.”

“Okay.”

I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. I found the remote control, flipped the TV on, and turned the sound down very low.

She stepped out of the bathroom and shut the light, then walked over.

“What’s with the darkness?” she said.