Alan Cook - Honeymoon for Three

Alfred had to do one more thing. He headed out of town on the highway and stopped where there were no houses in sight. He took his gun out of the glove compartment and wiped it off with his handkerchief. That would get rid of the fingerprints. He wrapped the gun in the handkerchief and slid it into his pocket.

He got out of the car and walked into a patch of woods by the light of the moon. The trees were far enough apart that the moonlight marked a path through the trees, perhaps a path used by animals, or perhaps it was just his imagination and there wasn’t really a path at all. But he liked to think that the moon acted as his ally and showed him the way to safety and success.

He walked until he was far enough from the road that a casual stroller or someone having to pee wouldn’t come this far. He picked up a branch that had a sharp point where it had snapped off a tree in a windstorm. With a grunt he shoved it into the dirt. The forest floor was soft from the recent rains, and he was able to penetrate it.

Using the branch, sometimes as a pick, sometimes as a shovel, he dug a hole. It was hard work. Soon sweat was streaming down his face, despite the coolness of the evening. He had to stop and rest several times. When the hole reached the depth of a foot or so, he dropped the gun into it and covered it with the accumulated dirt. He stamped on the dirt to pack it down and then used the other end of the branch, which still had twigs attached to it, as a rake to smooth out the ground in the vicinity of the hole.

Satisfied with his work, he tossed the branch away. The gun was the only evidence that connected him with what had happened at the market. May it rest in peace. Alfred thought about erecting a small cross to mark the spot and smiled at the idea. He wasn’t just your garden variety dumb criminal. He knew how to cover his tracks. He returned to the Falcon and drove toward Wyoming.

Penny had promised to call her mother several times during the trip, so she took advantage of a pay phone at the Wildlife Museum in Mammoth, just inside the north entrance to Yellowstone National Park. It was Sunday afternoon in Connecticut. Her mother answered on the third ring.

When Penny said hello, her mother said, “Did the police find you?” She sounded excited.

“The police? Mom, what are you talking about?”

“They called me this morning. They said that boy from your class shot a clerk in a food store.”

“What boy in my class?” Penny’s mother didn’t always make sense when she was excited.

“You know, the boy with the big head and ears and the potbelly.”

“Alfred? Are you talking about Alfred Ward?”

“Yes, Alfred. He’s the one. I remember that he always seemed to be a little bit out of step with you other kids.”

“Mom, tell me again what Alfred did.”

“He shot somebody. A clerk in a food store, I believe. Anyway, the man is dead.”

Alfred shot somebody? He was weird, but Penny didn’t consider him to be dangerous in a physical sense. “Where was this?”

“Somewhere in Montana. The police called from Montana.”

The conversation was unreal. Penny looked for Gary. He wasn’t in sight. She said, “Did Alfred get arrested?”

“No. They don’t know where he is, but they think he might be looking for you.”

It was getting more and more confusing. “Why did the police call you?”

“Because Alfred had your yearbook picture in his car. You know, the one in your cheerleader uniform.”

“I thought you said they didn’t know where Alfred is.”

“They don’t, but they found his car.”

Okay, she would accept that. “So he had my picture in his car? And they traced the picture to Fenwick High School?”

“That’s right. Please be careful, Penny dear. Alfred is a dangerous character.”

Maybe her mother was right. Their meeting with Alfred in Seattle couldn’t be just a coincidence if he had her picture. She didn’t want her mother to worry. “We’re safe, Mom. We’re in Yellowstone. He’ll never find us here.”

“The police want you to call them collect. I wrote down the number. I put it here somewhere. Just a minute.”

While her mother was searching for the phone number, Penny spotted Gary buying postcards. When she caught his eye she waved frantically for him to come to the phone. He took his time coming, which made her mad, almost the first time she could remember being mad at him. Then she realized it was because of the tension she was feeling.

Her mother came back on the phone. “I’ve got the number. Do you have a pencil and paper? The police want you to call them right away.”

Penny wrote down the number. She didn’t want to hang up abruptly on her mother, so she chatted about where they were and what they had done. She told a couple of funny stories about their experiences, but she didn’t mention that they had been with Alfred. She didn’t want her mother to worry about her. When her mother seemed calmer, Penny said good-bye and hung up.

By this time, Gary had been cooling his heels for several minutes. Penny blurted out, “Alfred killed somebody.”

“Huh?”

“He shot a clerk in a food store.” She was acting as disjointed as her mother, so she took a deep breath to slow herself down and told Gary what she knew.

“He’s been following us,” were the first words out of Gary’s mouth. “He’s crazy. It’s a good thing we got away from him when we did, and that we didn’t give him specific information about where we were going in Yellowstone.”

“I have to call this number,” Penny said. “Maybe the police can tell us more.”

She dialed the operator and told her she wanted to make a collect call. After the officer who answered accepted the call, she was asked to wait and impatiently suffered on hold for thirty seconds. Then a man came on the line and said, “Detective Landon.”

Penny identified herself. In response to his questions, she acknowledged that she knew Alfred and that she had seen him recently. She asked how they knew he had murdered someone.

“Shortly after the murder, he was stopped for speeding in another town. He posted bail, but when the officers in that town received news of the killing, they immediately informed us about him, because he had acted suspiciously. We put out an APB for his car, and it was found apparently abandoned three or four hours later. Inside we discovered several bullets that were the same make and caliber as the one in the victim’s body.”

“Did you find a gun?”

“We haven’t located the murder weapon. Or Alfred Ward. We think he may have taken another car that was stolen from a driveway not far from where his car was found. We have an APB out for that car.”

“Do you know where he’s headed?”

“He told one officer he was going to Billings, but based on other evidence in the car, we suspect he may be following you.”

“What other evidence?” Penny looked at Gary. He must have seen the fear on her face, because he was paying close attention to what she was saying.

“We found a spiral notebook in the car. Did you recently get married in Reno?”

“That’s our notebook.”

“And there were several pictures of you.”

“More than one?”

“Yes. I’d like to meet with you. Where are you now?”

“Mammoth, in Yellowstone.”

“It’ll be a while before I can get away. Can you meet me at the coffee shop at Mammoth Hot Springs at six o’clock this afternoon?”

Penny agreed.

Detective Landon told her to watch for Alfred. He described the car Alfred was suspected of having stolen, including the license plate number.

“Do you think he’ll find us here?”

“Your plans for Yellowstone, as stated in the notebook, are pretty general. And, of course, he no longer has the notebook. We have the Park Service employees at the entrances to Yellowstone looking for his car, but I would certainly keep an eye out for him.”