Linwood Barclay - Lone Wolf

Not a blood-curdling, oh-my-God-you’ve-come-here-to-kill-me scream, just a short one, of pure surprise. More a whoop, really, than a scream.

I didn’t scream myself, although I might easily have done so. Instead, I was blabbering, “Sorry! Sorry! Didn’t know anyone was in here! Sorry!” I grabbed hold of the doorknob and yanked so hard on it that I slammed the door into my head, knocking myself back into the main room, almost stumbling over the couch before I caught myself.

Dad was hopping out his bedroom door now, shouting, “Lana! What’s wrong?” And then he saw me, then clutched at the wall for support, and even in his barely awake state, started putting it all together. “Oh shit,” he said, looking at me. “What are you doing up this early?”

“I’m going fishing,” I said. “I just wanted to rub some toothpaste on my teeth and jeez I didn’t know you had someone here why didn’t you tell me you were having company and I wouldn’t have walked in?”

“Didn’t you bring a toothbrush?”

“No, I did not bring a toothbrush. When I heard you were dead, for some reason, my first stop was not for a toothbrush and floss.”

“You don’t have any floss either?”

“Dad.”

“What about when we were in town yesterday? Couldn’t you have picked up what you needed then? Honestly, can’t a person have even a little privacy around-”

The bathroom door swung open and Lana stepped out, a pink button-up-the-front blouse pulled on, her fingers doing up the top button. “Arlen, stop, please, it was just an accident.”

Again, I said, “Listen, I’m sorry, I had no idea anyone was in there. I just wanted to brush my teeth was all and-”

“Yeah, well, the bathroom’s free now, so why don’t you do what you have to do,” Dad suggested.

“I’m Lana,” she said, extending a hand. “You must be Zachary.”

“Yeah, Zack, yes,” I said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lana.”

“Lana Gantry,” she said. “I’m a friend of your father’s.” She smiled. “Although you probably figured that out by now.”

The implications of what I’d stumbled into were now starting to sink in. This woman was a friend of my father’s. She was in his cabin at 6:20 in the morning. No one came to visit at 6:20 in the morning. Which meant that she must have arrived late last night, after the party broke up. Which meant that she must have spent the night with my father and oh God there are just some things you don’t want to think about why did I have to walk in here and how do I get out of this gracefully?

“I know all about you.” Lana smiled. “You’re a writer for The Metropolitan now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, looking at her closely for the first time now. She was probably in her early sixties, trim, a pretty impressive figure, which I was able to discern even now that she had her top on. A beautiful face with full, already red, lips, high cheekbones, brown hair with subtle streaks of silver in it that would probably have fallen just to her shoulders if she didn’t have it pulled back and clipped.

“It’s a real treat to see you again,” Lana said. “Needless to say, you’ve sure grown up.”

A puzzled looked must have crossed my face. “I’m sorry, I’m having just a bit of trouble placing you…Wait a minute.”

Dad shook his head, annoyed, and was about to say something when Lana turned to him, putting a finger to her lips. “Let’s see if he remembers.”

Dad said, “Lana, it’s really not necessary that-”

“Shhh,” Lana said to him.

There was something about her that was familiar. “What did you say your last name was?” I asked.

“Gantry.”

“Mrs. Gantry?”

“I think he’s getting warm.” Lana smiled at Dad.

“You used to live down the street from us? And moved away, when I was, like, thirteen?”

She smiled, stepped forward and gave me a hug, followed by a peck on the cheek. “Good memory.”

“Lana’s husband, Walter, died a few years back,” Dad said. “We both ended moving up this way, ran into each other in Braynor. It was, uh, sort of a coincidence.” Dad reached around behind the bedroom door and came out with his crutches, which he tucked under each arm so he could come out into the room.

“Have you had any breakfast?” Lana asked me.

“Uh, no, but listen…I have to get going anyway. Bob’s taking me out fishing this morning, and I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. Let me make you up something. You can take it out with you, if you want.” She was already heading over to the kitchen counter. “How about peanut butter and toast? Or a fried egg sandwich? That would only take a moment.”

Dad said, “Do you really have time, Lana?” To me, he said, “Lana runs the cafe in town.”

“This’ll only take a sec,” she said. “I’ve got the girls trained to open up, I don’t have to be there first thing. So how about a fried egg sandwich?”

“A fried egg sandwich would be great,” I said. She had a small frying pan out before I could finish the sentence, and now was in the fridge getting out a carton of eggs.

“That’s something, the two of you running into each other, years after you left the neighborhood,” I said.

“Yes, it is,” Lana Gantry said, putting two slices of bread into the toaster. “By the way, I think you’ve met my nephew, Orville?”

I blinked. “The chief? Of police?”

“I know he was out here, what with that horrible business of the man who was killed by the bear. What a terrible, terrible thing that was.”

“Yes, we met,” I said. And he pulled a gun on me , I could have added. And he seems like a bit of a twit , I might have mentioned.

“I’m so proud of him. He’s turned into quite a young man himself,” she said. I nodded, not sure what I could possibly add to that. My toast popped and Lana buttered the slices, then slid a fried egg onto one of them. “Salt and pepper?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, still processing so much information being delivered in such a short time.

“I didn’t cut it so the yolk wouldn’t run all over the place,” she said, handing me my breakfast in a sandwich bag.

Lana gave Dad a light kiss on the lips, which embarrassed him. “Gotta run,” she said. “Come in for a piece of pie if you get a chance.” She smiled at me, grabbed a set of keys on the kitchen counter, and was out the door.

“She seems nice,” I said. “I hope you kids are using protection.”

Dad scowled. “I think Lana gave you that sandwich to go.”

I smiled. “Okay, I’m off. When I get back, you can start showing me what needs to be done around here.” He was still scowling as I slipped out the door and ran over to the dock, where Bob Spooner was sitting patiently in his boat.

“Ready?” he said.

I stepped carefully into the boat, putting my foot toward the center so as not to tip it.

“Meet Lana?” Bob asked, grinning. “I just saw her car take off for town.”

I nodded. “I kind of walked in on her in the bathroom. I could have used a heads-up on that one.” I was thinking as Bob unhooked the boat from the dock and, with an oar, pushed us a boat length out, where it was deep enough for him to lower the outboard motor. “Is that where Dad was night before last, when we thought he was under that tarp?”

“Think so,” Bob said. “I figured Orville would have thought of that, or called, or something, but I guess he didn’t.”

“Would Orville know a clue if it bit him in the ass?”

Bob shook his head, said nothing, and dropped the motor into the water. He primed the squeeze bulb on the gas tank, then yanked the cord-just once-to bring the motor to life.