Peter Straub - If You Could See Me Now

As he went toward it his wife called from the back of the store. “Who was it?”

“Drummer,” Andy called back.

“For goodness’ sake, send him off. It’s too early.”

“Just a minute.” He pointed to the telephone; then whispered, “No. I’ll dial it.”

When he had the number he gave me the receiver and crossed his arms over his chest.

The telephone rang twice, and then I heard Lokken’s voice. “Police?”

I asked to speak to Polar Bears. If you want your killer , I was going to say, just do what I tell you. He’ll be on his farm , driving his tractor or banging on some machinery .

“Teagarden?” came the deputy’s high-pitched astonished whine. “Is that you? Where the hell did you get yourself to anyways? You’re supposed to be here, this morning. What the hell?”

“What do you mean, I’m supposed to be there?”

“Well, see — the Chief sent me out on this damnfool errand yesterday afternoon. I didn’t get what I was supposed to get because it wasn’t there in the first place, it never even was there, he just wanted me outa the way I guess. Anyhow by the time I got back it was near to midnight and he was hoppin’ mad. Duane called him up and said you run off somewheres. So the Chief says, hold your horses, I’ll know where he is. I think he went and got Duane to help him bring you in. So where are you now? And where’s the Chief?”

“I’m at Andy’s store,” I said. I glanced over at him. His worried face was turned toward the rear of the shop; he was afraid his wife would appear and find me. “Lokken, listen to me. I know who should be arrested, and I think I know where the Chief would have gone. Pick me up at Andy’s.”

“You bet your ass I’m pickin’ you up,” said Lokken.

“You’ll get your killer,” I said, and handed the receiver back to Andy.

“Should I hang it up?” he asked, perplexed.

“Hang it up.”

He clicked it down and then stared at me, becoming more conscious every moment of my beard-stubble and wrinkled clothes. “Thanks,” I said, and turned away and threaded past the tables and went out, leaving him with his hand on the telephone. I went down the steps and out into the early light to wait for Lokken.

In eight minutes, which must have been a record, the deputy’s squadcar came speeding down the valley road. I waved, and Lokken braked to a halt, raising a great white plume of dust. He jumped out of the car as I walked across the road toward him. “All right, what is this?” he demanded. “This just plain don’t make sense. Where’s Chief Hovre?”

“I think he imagined that I’d go back up to that clearing where you found the Michalski girl. Maybe Duane went with him.”

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t,” said Lokken. His hand was on the butt of his gun. “Maybe we’ll go there, maybe we won’t. Why in hell did you call the station?”

“I told you.” His hand curled around the gunbutt. “I know who killed those girls. Let’s get in the car and talk about it on the way.”

Very suspiciously, he stepped away from the side of the car and permitted me to walk around its nose. We got in at the same time. I leaned back against the hot plastic of the seat. “All right,” Lokken said. “You better start talking. If it’s real good I might listen.”

“Duane Updahl did it,” I said. His hand, holding the ignition key, froze on the way to the slot and he swiveled his head to gape at me.

“I wasn’t even in town when Gwen Olson died,” I said.

“That’s why I’m listening to you,” said Lokken. I returned his glance. “We just heard this morning from the Ohio state police. The Chief had them checking into your story about staying in a motel ever since you told him about it. They finally found a guy named Rolfshus says he recognized your picture. He runs a little place off the freeway. Well, this here Rolfshus says you might be someone checked in there that night.”

“You mean Polar Bears was looking for that motel since the night I told him about it?”

“He’s tooken statements too,” said Lokken. “Lots of folks up here don’t like you.” He started the car. “I don’t know what the Chief would say, but it sure as hell looks to me like you’re okay on that Olson killing. So why the hell do you say it’s Duane?”

I gave him my reasons as we spun down the road. His hatred of women, his hatred of me. The physical evidence. “I think he set up the whole thing to get me a life sentence in the booby hatch,” I said. “And Polar Bears was hoping he’d shoot me, so that I couldn’t say anything about how Alison Greening really died. He sent you off so you’d be far away when it happened.”

“Christ, I don’t know,” said Lokken. “It’s crazy. What’s this about Alison Greening?”

So I told him that too. “And I think Duane has been half-crazy ever since,” I ended. “When I wrote him that I was coming back, I think he just snapped.”

“Holy man.”

“I sort of snapped too. Otherwise I think I would have seen it earlier. I had a crazy theory, but last night it turned out to be wrong.”

“Everything about this is crazy,” Lokken said in despair. He pulled the car up on the shoulder of the road beside the rows of corn. Polar Bears’ car sat, facing the way we had come, on the other side of the road. “Looks like you were right about the Chief, anyhow. You think they’re both up there?”

“I think Duane would go with Polar Bears,” I said. “It’d be too risky for him not to.”

“Let’s have a look. Hell, let’s have a look.” We got out of the car and jumped the ditch.

He said nothing, the run up toward the woods took much of his breath, but after we had forded the creek Lokken spoke again. “If what you say is right, Duane might of tried something on the Chief.”

“I don’t think he would,” I said.

“Yeah, but he might of,” he said, and drew his gun. “I don’t exactly remember where the damn clearing was.”

I said, “Follow me,” and began to work up over the rise and toward the beginning of the woods. Lokken crashed along behind me.

When I reached the first of the trees I began to trot uphill, going in the direction of Rinn’s old cabin. I had no idea of how the scene would be played. For once, I was grateful for Lokken’s presence. It did not make sense that Polar Bears would have spent the entire night in the clearing. Gradually the big gnarled trees drew closer. I slowed to a walk. In places I had to part branches and tall weeds with my hands.

“Do you notice anything funny?” I said after a time.

“Huh?” Lokken’s voice came from a good distance behind me.

“There isn’t any noise. No birds, no squirrels. No animal noises.”

“Huh,” said Lokken.

It was true. Other times when I had come up into the woods, I had been aware of a constant natural chatter about me. Now it was as though all the birds and animals had died. In that dark place, surrounded by the looming trees, the silence was decidedly spooky.

“Gunshot scares ‘em off,” Lokken said. “Maybe there was some trouble.” He sounded as apprehensive as I felt, and I knew that he still had the gun in his hand.

“We’re pretty close to the clearing now,” I said. “We’ll know soon.”

A few minutes later I saw the ring of trees around the clearing. “Right through there,” I said, and looked around at Lokken. His face was red with effort.

“Yeah. I remember now.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Chief? You there?” He got not even an echo; he shouted again. “Chief! Chief Hovre!” He looked at me hard, angry and frustrated, sweat running down his face. “Dammit, Teagarden, shake your butt.”