The Border Part Two (2 page)

“No.” Edging closer, he saw the knife-wounds all over her flesh and, although he wanted to look away, he found himself drawn toward her as she waited for him in the shadows. “I’m going to find him,” he stammered. “
Me
, I’m going to be the one. I promised you all those years ago -”

“And you let me down.”

“I’ll do it!” he hissed. “I swear to God!”

“God can’t help you. God doesn’t care.”

“I’ll show you,” he continued. “I won’t rest until I’ve caught him.”

“You didn’t even pay attention when you were told his name!” she replied, with anger building in her voice.

“His name?” He stopped just a few feet from her. “I don’t know his name.”

“You were told it once. It was delivered to you and you just carried on without paying any attention.”

He shook his head. “No, absolutely not, of course I don’t know his name, I can’t -”

“The.”

He stared at her. “What did you say?”

“Stag.”

He froze, not even breathing.

“Headed.”

He waited.

“Man.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but for a moment all he could do was look into her cold, dead eyes.

“Did you hear it this time?” she asked finally.

“I -”

“Did you? If you did, say it.”

“But -”

“Say it!”

“The…” He paused. “No, you’re wrong. The kid was insane, he’s
still
crazy. He lost his mind, we can’t rely on anything he says, he just -”

“Say it!”

“Listen, I -”

“Say it!” she shouted, stepping forward until she was close enough to touch, and finally letting the gray morning light fall on her rotten, dappled face. “Say it! How many goddamn times do you need to have this stuff spoon-fed to you? Are you a goddamned intellectual cripple? Say the name I just gave to you!”

“The…” He paused again, with tears in his eyes. “I heard it, but… The stag-headed man, but that’s… No, Caitlin. Just… no. It’s too far-fetched.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” she asked.

“Because you’re not really here.”

“Joe told you what he saw nine years ago,” she continued, “and you ignored it.”

“The kid is an idiot!” he replied, trying not to lose his patience. “Everyone knows it! He’s a simple-minded fool, and he’s a drunk! Have you seen him around lately? He’s like a goddamn zombie, all he cares about is drinking himself into oblivion every night.”

“He still told you the name.”

“There’s no stag-headed man,” he said firmly.

“Why not? Just because you don’t believe it’s possible?”

“Whoever killed you -”

“Is still around,” she continued, stepping even closer, until her face was almost touching his. “Maybe he’s the guy who serves you in the store. Maybe he’s the guy you held the door open for in the bank. Maybe he’s the guy who called last week and asked you to keep a look out for his cat. The point is, he’s around, and you don’t know who he is. So really, after nine years, maybe it’s time to admit that you’re a complete failure. Retire, move on, let someone else look after these people you’ve so spectacularly failed to protect. Go home, old man, and wait to die.”

He shook his head.

“Vanity?” she whispered.

“You’re not real,” he replied. “You’re all in my head.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to be able to tell yourself that I’m not watching over you, that I’m not aware of your miserable failure to catch my killer. There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

She smiled, before putting her lips together and blowing on his face.

“Stop!” he replied, turning away for a moment before looking back at her and finding that she was gone. He turned again, looking around the entire yard, but it was just him and the rain.

III

She looked down at her right breast and watched as he squeezed the nipple. He was being a little rough, but she didn’t mind. If that was what he liked, then so be it. It was all the same to her.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked finally.

“Have I ever
what
?”

“Been in love.”

Turning to her, Bob frowned. “You’re talking to a forty-one-year-old man who’s been married for the past decade and a half. You realize that, right?”

She nodded.

“So don’t you think it’s a dumb question?”

“No.” She waited for him to reply. “I figured you’d be the best person to ask.”

“Of course I’ve been in love,” he said finally, moving his attention to her other breast. “I love my wife.”

“You do?”

“Why would you even doubt that?”

“Well…” She paused, feeling his hot breath on her skin. Over on the other side of the motel room, the light above the dresser was flickering slightly. Outside, light rain was falling against the window. “So if you love her,” she said slowly, “then…”

“Then what?”

“Well…”

“Why am I fucking you every night?”

“I was just wondering.”

“Do you know the last time Beth and I made love?” he asked with a sigh.

She shook her head.

“Four years ago.”

She raised both eyebrows.

“Seriously,” he continued. “Since our daughter was born, that side of things has been pretty much dead. And when I finally confronted her about it, do you know what she told me? Do you want to hazard a guess as to her excuse?”

“Well…” She thought about it for a moment. “Maybe it’s because she had the baby, and that did stuff to her. Psychologically, and maybe physically too. I heard people can get pretty mangled during childbirth. Maybe she’s self-conscious.”

“She told me she’s asexual.”

“She’s what?”

“Asexual. She sat there, on our bed, and told me that she’d never really liked sex, that she’d never felt sexually attracted to anyone, man or woman, and that she was sorry she hadn’t told me earlier. She was
sorry
.” He paused, staring at her breasts for a moment longer. “I mean, anything else we could fucking work around, you know? But
that
? She said she could try, she said she could still go through with it and stuff, but…” Rolling onto his back, he sighed. “What’s a guy supposed to do when his wife tells him something like that? That she’s
asexual
.”

“So she doesn’t get turned on by anything?” Candy asked, staring up at the ceiling fan. “Not by anything in the whole world?”

Bob watched as a fly crawled across the ceiling. “Nope.”

“So it’s nothing to do with you?”

“Hell, no.” He laughed nervously. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“It’s all her?”

“It’s all her. She admitted it.”

She paused for a moment. “Golly,” she said finally. “I can’t imagine living like that. Not getting excited by anything, ever. Not feeling that little twinge when you sit on the washing machine, or when you see a hot guy giving you the right look. I mean, that’s something I look forward to each day.” She tried to imagine it, but the whole thing was just too bizarre and too strange for her to contemplate. “Are you sure she’s telling the truth?” she asked finally. “Are you sure it’s not just an excuse?”

“Oh, I believe her,” he muttered bitterly. “She’s fucked up. I knew that from the moment I first met her, but it used to be fun. I just didn’t realize
how
fucked up.” He paused, watching the fan, before turning to her. “I love her, though. I love our daughter, too. I know that might seem strange to you, given the fact that… Well, the truth is, I just need sex too. Like, really
really
need it, and with someone who needs it right back. I can’t get by without it, so one day I figured I just needed to get a little one the side. Believe it or not, doing this with you is probably saving my marriage.”

“It is?”

“It is.” He looked down at her naked body, before rolling over and putting a hand between her legs. “Now why don’t we have a little more fun before checkout time?” He reached around and cupped her ass, before starting to slip a finger between the cheeks. “Have you thought any more about what we talked about earlier?”

***

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered an hour later, as he pulled the morning’s paper out of the coin-operated rack near the motel’s front door. “Someone was murdered right here in Bowley.”

“Someone was what, where?” Candy asked. The rain had picked up a little, and a strong breeze was blowing her hair across her face.

“Listen to this,” he continued, reading from the front page. “Police say they have no suspects yet following the discovering of a dead body in a dumpster behind the Monument bar. The body has been identified as Melanie Armitage, a barmaid at the -”

He paused.

“Holy shit,” he continued, sounding a little excited, “I know who that is. She works at the bar, real nice girl. Lets me put U2 on the jukebox. Fuck.”

“She was murdered?” Candy replied, as she struggled to fix her hair against the wind. After a moment, she stepped back behind a wall, to get a little shelter. “Wow. That’s heavy.”

“Police have not revealed the nature of the dead woman’s injuries,” Bob read out loud, as he made his way toward his car with Candy hurrying to keep up, “but sources close to the investigation have told this newspaper that similarities to the -” He read on in silence for a moment. “Holy shit, get this! Sources close to the investigation have told this newspaper that similarities to the unsolved murder of Caitlin Somers, nine years ago, cannot be ruled out.” Reaching the driver’s door, he turned to see that Candy was on the other side of the vehicle. “Cannot be ruled out! Do you realize what that means?”

“Um…” She paused. “It means they can’t be discounted.”

“You remember Caitlin Somers, right? Local girl, got knifed to death about nine or ten years ago?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And now they’re saying this second murder might be connected!”

“Connected how?”

“Well, I guess the same killer!”

“Oh.” She paused. “Can you drop me off at the town square?”

“Aren’t you scared?” he asked.

“Of what?”

“There’s a killer loose!”

“Well…” She paused. “Yeah, but if there is, he’s not gonna kill
me
!”

He turned to her. “How do you know?”

“Well, he’s just not.” She seemed a little uncomfortable now, as the wind tried to pull her hair loose from the clips. “That’s just not the kind of thing that ever happens to me.”

Instead of answering, he turned attention back to the newspaper.

“So,” Candy continued. “Town square, yeah?”

“What? Oh… No, not right on the square, that’d be too dangerous. I can drop you a few streets away. We can’t risk anyone seeing us together.”

“I guess not.”

“Listen to this,” he continued. “The discovery of Ms. Armitage’s body came nine years
to the day
after the discovery of Caitlin Somers’ body. Jesus, that’s right, it must have done! Holy shit, do you think that’s it, then? Do you think there’s some kind of serial killer in Bowley?”

She frowned. “He must be really patient.”

“Huh?”

“If he waited nine years. I’ve never waited nine years for
anything
.”

“You’re twenty-two years old.”

She paused. “Yeah!”

“Well…” He paused. “I mean, you’ve got a point. Why would he quit for nine years, then start up again? If you’re the kinda guy who gets his jollies from serial killing, what do you do for nine years between murders?”

“Beats me.”

“You know,” he continued, “my sister-in-law is Jane Freeman. She’s a cop. They leak info for a reason, to hurry things up, but I bet she knows way more than they’re letting on in this rag. My brother-in-law Jack is the paper’s editor, too. I’ve gotta find an excuse to drop by and see them later, maybe get some dirt on what’s happening.” He paused. “Christmas. Christmas is coming up. Perfect!”

“Can we go?” Candy asked. “I’m tired.”

“What? Oh yeah, sure.” Unlocking the door, he climbed into the car while still reading the front-page. “Listen to this. Police remain tight-lipped about the precise circumstances of the body’s discovery, and about the nature of the dead woman’s injuries.” He turned to Candy as she got into the seat next to him. “Tight-lipped? No way, Jane will have told Jack everything she knows. They must be deliberately withholding information from the public. That’s what they do, sometimes, so that there’s stuff only the killer knows. In case he, like, calls in or writes and needs to prove who he is.”

“I need one of those pills,” she replied.

“What pills?”

“For girls who’ve let guys do things to ‘em in the night.”

“What?” He frowned, before looking down at her crotch. “Oh. You don’t need one of those, I used protection.”

“Protection isn’t guaranteed to work. I need a pill.”

“You didn’t need a pill any of the other times.”

“I didn’t know about them then.”

“Well…” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. “How much is it?”

“No, I’m not buying it. I don’t want anyone knowing that I need one of those things, word might get back to my mother. You’ll have to go into the pharmacy for me.”

“I can’t do that,” he replied. “Jesus, are you insane?”

“You’re married. They’ll just think it’s for your wife.”

He shook his head.

“Do you
want
me to get pregnant?” she asked. “I sure as hell don’t want a kid, not right now, not with you!”

He tossed some cash onto her lap. “I’m not going into a pharmacy and buying a goddamn morning after pill for you. It’s too risky. You’ll just have to do it yourself, or get a friend to do it.”

“You’re a friend,” she pointed out. “You do it for me.”

“Candy -”

“Maybe I’ll ask your wife to pick one of for me,” she replied, taking the cash and dropping it back onto
his
lap. “I’m serious, Bob. This matters. Is chivalry dead in the modern age? Can’t a girl expect a guy who’s maybe popped one into her, to do the right thing? Especially after she also let him do that thing he’s been wanting to do for ages, but that she didn’t want to do at first because it seemed icky, but finally she gave in, and it
was
icky!” She paused, before sighing. “And get three, so we don’t have to go through this rigmarole every goddamn time.”

***

“Fuck,” Bob muttered under his breath as he made his way into the pharmacy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Hey,” said Jean, the woman behind the counter, as she saw him approach. She had the local paper in her hands, and was evidently reading about the Mel Armitage murder. “How you doing today, Bob? How’s Beth and little Lucy?”

“Fine,” he replied, looking over his shoulder to make sure no-one else was around. “They’re just fine.” Turning back to her, he saw her smiling face and realized there was no way he could bring himself to ask for one of
those
pills.

“Isn’t it awful?” she replied. “That poor woman, murdered right here in Bowley.”

“It’s terrible.”

“You don’t think something like that could happen around here, do you?” she asked. “Well, not again. Well… It’s been nine years. You think you know a town, and then something like this happens and…” Sighing, she folded the paper and set it down. “I’m sorry, Bob. What are you after?”

“Um… I’m sorry, what?”

“What are you after? You came through the door, and usually people only do that deliberately.”

“Right.” His eyes scanned the shelves for a moment as he tried to think of something he could ask for. “Codeine,” he said finally. “Just codeine. Paracetamol with codeine, I mean. Yeah, just a pack of those.”

“Huh.” She grabbed a little blue box from the shelf and set it down on the counter. “Are you in pain, Bob?”

“Me? No, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“So the codeine’s not for you?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s for me.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“My back,” he added finally, letting out a not-very-convincing groan of pain. “It’s been killing me for days.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” she replied as she rang up the sale and took the note he handed to her. “Don’t go self-medicating.”

“Course not,” he said, taking the box and heading to the door. “Thanks, Jean. See you around.”

As soon as he got outside, he hurried around the corner so that Candy wouldn’t be able to see him from the car. Taking the tablets out of the packet, he popped one into the palm of his hand and saw that the letter C was stamped onto one of its sides. Stuffing the rest of the pills into his pocket, he made his way back across the parking lot until he reached the car, at which point he opened the door and held the tablet out for her.