Dead Voices (24 page)

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Authors: Rick Hautala

Tags: #horror novel

BOOK: Dead Voices
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“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were kneeling down in the section,” Frank said, “and it makes me wonder if Dr. Graydon was heading down there himself before he noticed you.”

“I didn’t know you were watching,” Elizabeth said. She shook her head and used the motion as an excuse to scan the hallway behind them, unable to shake the feeling she was being watched. “You cops,” she said, hissing with frustration. “Don’t you ever go off duty?”

“I just notice these things,” Frank said with a shrug.

“Dr. Graydon had seen me and just came over to say hi. That’s all. Why are you making such a thing out of it?”

Frank didn’t answer as he held the door open for her and then followed her out into the warm, spring night. Only when the door whooshed shut behind them did Elizabeth no longer feel as though they were being watched. Walking back to Frank’s car, though, she felt a light chill run up her back. Now that she thought about it, it had seemed a little strange that Graydon would start pointing out book titles to her. Had he been prodding her, testing her in some way, maybe so he could get some kind of insight into what kind of person she was?

Dammit, no
! she thought. There was nothing weird or threatening about Graydon! It had just been coincidental that they had bumped into each other.

As they walked across the parking lot, Elizabeth moved closer to Frank; and when he automatically placed his arm around her shoulders, she had to admit that it felt good ... very good.

 

2.

“I probably shouldn’t have even brought it up,” Frank said. “I didn’t mean for you to get upset about it, that’s all. Do you want to go someplace for a drink?” he asked.

Elizabeth let her breath out slowly as she looked at the creeping traffic. “I dunno,” she said. “I’m not so sure I’m in the mood for it anymore.”

“Oh, come on,” Frank sjlid. “The night is young and so are we ... well, sort of.”

He jostled her shoulder good-naturedly before rolling down his side window to let the warm spring air swirl into the car. In spite of the heavy exhaust, he inhaled deeply. He was cursing himself for even mentioning the incident out at the cemetery, but the EXHUME ELVIS bumper sticker on the pickup in front of them had prompted a remark that she had taken the wrong way.

Elizabeth looked at him with what she thought was an earnest pleading in her eyes, but right now she wasn’t even sure
what
she wanted —

Did she want him to tell her more, tell· her everything he knew about what had happened out there, and why Barney Fraser had been killed? Frank hadn’t come right out and said so, but there had been something in his voice that had hinted that he knew more than he was letting on.

Or did she want to forget he had even brought up the incident? Like he said, he hadn’t wanted to put a damper on the evening which, surprisingly for her, had gone much better than she had expected. Throughout the meal at Panda Garden, their browsing at the bookstore, and all during the movie, she had actually had flashes of the “old Frank.” Several times she had to catch herself from thinking that they
were
still sweethearts. So why ruin a fun evening?

“It’s just that when you ... when you put everything in such stark, black-and white terms,” Elizabeth said, unable to hide the quaver in her voice, “it sounds so — so
dangerous
.”

“Look, Elizabeth,” Frank replied. ‘‘I’m not going to bullshit you, all right?” He slapped the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. “You know damned well that the last thing I want to do is get you all worked up about this, okay? On the other hand, I don’t want you to be blind to anything.
If
— and that’s a big if — there’s something going on that you should be aware of, I want you to know about it.” He paused a moment and swallowed with difficulty. “I want to be able to protect you from it.”

He felt her bristle at that, so he hurriedly added, “I don’t mean it like
that
—” He looked at her. The bright lights from the traffic made her skin glow vibrantly. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I think you’ve had your share of shit to deal with, all right?”

Elizabeth chuckled softly and, in spite of herself, felt herself warm up to him. She had always known that, underneath his rather rigid exterior, Frank was just a soft-hearted fool. The uniforms had always seemed like a thin shell he adopted to protect himself, his emotions, from the pain of the real world.

“I just can’t imagine why ... anyone would want to do something like that — dig up my uncle’s body! ... Just to get at me?” she said. The quaver had returned to her voice, but Frank didn’t seem to notice.

“There are a lot of weirdos in the world, babe,” he said.

“I never thought there’d be nuts like this, though,” Elizabeth said. “Not in a town like Bristol Mills.”

“You didn’t seem to enjoy the movie very much,” Frank said, trying again to shift the conversation.

“Oh, yeah — I did. I thought it was really funny.”

“So what’s the problem?” he asked pointedly. “Want to grab a beer at Stoover’s?”

“I dunno ... maybe,” Elizabeth replied. Her gaze shifted out the side window. All the lights seemed to blend and melt together.

Her mind was filled with worries and concerns. She was positive Frank had answers to some of her questions, but she didn’t want — she didn’t
dare
— to ask him certain things ...

— Like what
really
happened out there in the graveyard last week?

— And
who
was involved with Barney Fraser ... Who would
kill
him and bury him in the woods? And why? To shut him up about what had gone on out there?

— And what, if anything, did the police know and weren’t saying? What were they doing about it, especially if she was in some kind of danger?

Frank switched the radio on, cutting into the middle of Joni Mitchell singing “Both Sides Now.” As soon as he heard it, he smiled and turned the volume up.

“Ahh — remember this?”

Elizabeth grunted and shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the snarled traffic around them.

“Well, something’s bugging you,” Frank said. They had finally made it to the turn onto Maine Mall Road, but the light was red, and they were still stuck behind EXHUME ELVIS. As soon as the light changed to green, Frank turned right and pulled around the truck.

“No,” Elizabeth said, sighing as she shook her head. “Nothing’s
bugging
me.”

“If it’s anything I ... “ Frank said, but he let his voice trail away. His brow was furrowed with concern as he drove through the sets of lights and then slowed for the tum onto Running Hill Road. Biting her lower lip, Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked out at the deep night, grateful to be leaving the lights of South Portland behind. She was wracking her brain, trying to think of something to say. It seemed as though every time she was with Frank, everything she said had a double meaning. Shivering, she looked out at the night-shadowed woods whipping past her window, and she wondered if she was truly in danger, or if she was letting Frank’s paranoia get to her.

“It just feels so ... so funny, “ she said, chuckling softly, “to be out on a date with you again.” She hoped it sounded like that was what she had really been thinking. “I mean, after graduation, I pretty much thought I’d never see you again.”

“Funny how life can do stuff like that to you, huh?” Frank said, smiling as the steering wheel played loosely in his hands. The car took the curves of the road with a smooth, fluid ease.

Elizabeth grunted, thinking that Frank, like her, wasn’t saying what was really on his mind. They rode for a while in silence, both of them staring ahead at the pools of yellow light from the headlights, illuminating the road. They passed several well-lit houses, and Elizabeth wondered if the same people had lived there when she was growing up.

“So, tell me,” she said, as she settled back in the car seat, forcing herself to relax. “How come you never got married?”

Frank’s mouth twitched into a thin smile. He didn’t take his eyes off the road for a moment as he said, “What makes you think I
never
got married?”

Elizabeth laughed aloud, feeling the tension between them lessen. It was rather funny how she and Frank were always tiptoeing around each other, cautiously probing and questioning, and then dropping the bombshells.

“Do you actually think you could have gotten married without me hearing about it from
someone
? I mean, my mother told me when you were going out with Linda Martin for a while —”

“Yeah,” Frank said, with stifled laughter. “ — For a while.”

“Did you love her?” Elizabeth asked, realizing as she did that it was none of her damned business.

Frank shrugged and quickly glanced at her. His face had a pale cast to it from the dashboard lights. “I suppose I did ... but I guess not enough to marry her.”

“Probably because the love of your life had broken your heart back in high school, right?” Elizabeth said, glancing at him from the comer of her eye.

She laughed loudly, and Frank joined in with her; but when he muttered, “Absolutely,” there was a little more conviction in his tone than Elizabeth cared to hear.

Frank slowed for a stop before turning right onto Route 114, heading toward Bristol Mills. As they neared the intersection in the center of town, Elizabeth wanted to ask him if he’d mind stopping by the aunts’ house to visit-for old time’s sake. Before she could say anything, Frank, without even clicking on his tum signal, turned left onto Beech Ridge Road and then right onto Bristol Pond Road.

“I can’t believe you,” Elizabeth said, both amused and nervous as the car’s shocks rattled and swayed on the bumpy dirt road. Looking out the windshield, she could have sworn she really was back twenty years ago. No matter what changes had taken place in the center of town, Bristol Pond Road, at least, was exactly as she remembered it.

Frank was smiling wider now, his face glowing in the dashboard lights as he navigated the curves of the road. He slowed down to less than five miles per hour.

Off to their left, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of velvety black water. The sweep of stars overhead cast the land and water of Bristol Pond into inky darkness. Pointed pines stood up against the sky like jagged fangs. As dark and foreboding as the spot looked, though, she had too many pleasant memories of the place to feel really nervous. She wondered if high school kids still came out here to “go parking.” There weren’t any cars on the slight crest of the hill overlooking the pond-the traditional place for necking-but then again, this was a Tuesday night. Maybe the pond was busier on weekends.

“Just like always, you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to come out here,” Elizabeth said with mock indignation. “Is that all you can think about — sex,
sex
, SEX?”

“I promise you I won’t put it in all the way,” Frank replied with a burst of laughter, using one of the lines he had actually thought she would believe back in high school. He leaned toward her, his eyebrows arching upward in a wicked, Jack Nicholson leer.

“One of the Great American Lies,” Elizabeth said, shaking with laughter.

“Yeah,” Frank replied, “just like ‘No new taxes’!”

On pure instinct, Frank drove straight to
their
spot and killed the engine and headlights. The night dropped down on them like a feathery curtain. Elizabeth looked from Frank to the view in front of them. Rolling down her window, she stuck her head outside and inhaled deeply of the resinous air. In the dusky starlight, the surface of the pond looked rippled, like a gray washboard, almost as if the water were frozen.

“How many times on a date did we end up out here?” Elizabeth asked, turning to Frank. She could hardly see him in the darkness and, for a panicky instant, had the scary thought that Frank wasn’t beside her at all; it was someone else sitting there in the dark car. Her heartbeat started racing as she stared at him, trying to pierce the darkness to see his face.

“Not enough, if you ask me,” Frank said, not realizing the relief that flooded Elizabeth when she heard his voice.

“Let’s go down by the water,” she said suddenly. Before he could respond, she had popped open the car door. The dome light momentarily stung their eyes. As Elizabeth stepped out into the night, it was like diving into dark, cool water. The night breeze hissed in the tall pines, making the branches creak and snap. There was a lonely, eerie feeling about the place which Elizabeth had always both cherished and feared.

She heard Frank’s door open and close, and then the crunch of his shoes on the gravel as he came around the car toward her. She wasn’t surprised — or disappointed when he reached for her out of the darkness. His hands touched her shoulders and then slid down to encircle her waist. She shivered and didn’t resist as he pulled her up close from behind. His hands moved down to the swell of her hips.
Just where he always used to put them
, she thought, with a twinge of memory twenty years old.

God! How can it have been that long?
she wondered as she twisted around to face him. Without a word, they hugged for a moment. When they broke off, they turned together and walked slowly down the beach toward the water’s edge.

The air close by the pond was moist and clean smelling. Elizabeth smiled when she remembered how, when they had brought a blanket down here on the night of the Senior Prom, they had been so fearful that some other couple might arrive and discover them. That night they had made love — gone all the way — for the first time. It had hurt that first time, and for a while Elizabeth had been fearful that she would never enjoy the act of making love; but with time and experience she had come to recall that night with a warm sentimentality.

“You know,” Frank said, his voice barely a whisper as he stopped her and brought his face close to hers in the darkness, “I — I’ve thought about a hundred different things I’d say to you if I ever came out here with you again.”

Elizabeth made a soft sound deep in her throat. Her mind was a roaring blank; she could think of nothing to say. She, too, had often wondered about Frank, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought they might actually come out here again ... together. As far as she had been concerned, their relationship — and friendship — had ended long ago, no matter how many pleasant memories had fueled it.

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