Diane Davidson - The Main Corpse

The phone’s ringing pierced the silence when the clock’s digits glowed exactly 7:30. Apparently, both our electric power and telephone service had been restored. I figured that Tom had reset the clocks before he left. Arch, I was fairly sure, was still asleep. Since I didn’t have any bookings, I thought it must be my mother calling from New Jersey to do a postmortem on the game. She’s a big Mets fan.

It was not my mother. It was Macguire Perkins. He rasped and wheezed so badly into the receiver that at first I barely recognized his voice.

“Oh, Goldy, I’m so sorry. I’m in Lutheran Hospital. In Denver. I’ve got such bad news. I really screwed up.”

I threw off the sheets, shot up in bed, and dragged my mind from baseball to Macguire. Macguire in the hospital? “Macguire, what’s wrong?”

“I was tailing them. But I lost them. Marla and her boyfriend. Something happened. Somebody…somebody hit me over the head – ” he wheezed. ” – and I guess I struggled, but then the perp must have hit me again, because I just like, passed out or whatever.”

“Someone hit you? When? Where? Macguire, start over, please. Are you okay?”

“Out in the woods, near Grizzly Creek. It was at night. And there was that big storm, you know? When I came to, there was a ton of blood coming out of this gross cut on my scalp. I mean, the blood’s all over my shirt, pants, everything. It was nasty.” More wheezing. “I thought I was dying. I figured I’d been hit by a rock, or a rock slide, or jeez, I don’t know, because I can’t remember hearing anything. But sometimes you don’t, you know, remember hearing a rock slide. Your mind blanks it out. At least that’s what this guy at school told me.” His voice shredded into coughing. “Anyway, I tied my shirt around my scalp and tried to drive my car out, but the front tires were flat. I thought, that’s weird, how could they both be flat? And I couldn’t see any big rocks or boulders nearby, so I was like, totally confused. And scared. Even though there was nobody around and all I could hear was the rain.” There was murmuring in the background. “Yeah, okay,” I heard Macguire say. “I’ll be off in a minute.” He sighed, which led to more coughing. “That was the nurse. I had to have six stitches, and the covering of my skull is torn. I didn’t even know the skull had a covering. I mean, you know. Besides skin. And, of course, hair,” he added dutifully.

“Macguire, I’m so sorry… but why… why did you do this? What were you thinking?”

He sighed gustily, with the world-weary air of Sam Spade. “I know it’s dumb. But I was up at Albert Lipscomb’s house with you guys, and it was all so weird when he skipped. So I just thought if I followed Tony it would lead to Albert. I mean, eventually. Then I’d be the hero. I should have known better, I know. Don’t tell me, I already feel totally stupid.”

I was out of bed and pulling on a sweat suit, the phone tucked under my ear. “For heaven’s sake, Macguire, how did you get back to town? Couldn’t Marla and Tony help you? Did you call the police?”

“I couldn’t find Marla and Tony,” he whined helplessly, and I was painfully reminded of how young he was. “That’s what I called to tell you. After I came to, I went over to where I’d watched them fixing dinner. I had to wait for flashes of lightning to see anything. You wouldn’t believe how dark it was. And it was really raining – Anyway, I called, but they weren’t at the campsite any more. Marla’s car was there, that new Mercedes, all locked up. I don’t know where they went, I swear. But it was real dark, you know. The wind was blowing like crazy, it was raining so hard… . And it was really cold.”

He hacked again, then spoke to someone, probably the nurse. I prayed that he had some idea of where Tony and Marla were, some idea that they were okay.

“Did you ever see Marla and Tony? I mean after you were hit?”

“No, I’m telling you, I couldn’t find them. And I called and called. They must have left on foot, because they only had the one car up there. Goldy, it looked as if a bear or something had gone through their campsite, it was such a frigging – excuse me – mess. I stumbled back until I came to the dirt road, then I walked out to the state highway. A guy in a truck picked me up. He brought me here. And then I guess I like passed out again, or something, because my memory gets kind of blurry. Oh yeah, the guy in the truck said he would call the police. They operated on me, sewing up that cut, yesterday sometime. Gosh, I feel like hell. And the nurse says I have to get off the phone. I’m going to call the school secretary at home, in case my father phones and wonders where I am.”

“Oh, Macguire, you poor – “

“Don’t worry, I’m supposed to get out of here tomorrow. That’s a good thing, because they’ve got me rooming with this guy who snores, and it’s so loud he sounds like someone trying to start an airplane in a cave. I swear, I gotta get back home so I can sleep.”

“I’ll check with the police and call you later. I promise.” I hung up and fumbled with my shoelaces. My fingers were like ice. A bear or something. What did I know about grizzlies in our area? Supposedly they didn’t come this far south. But there had been reports of mountain lions in Idaho Springs, and there was no telling how the recent weird weather had affected migration and feeding patterns of Rocky Mountain wildlife. Oh, Marla, where are you?

I turned back to the phone. Call Tom immediately, a voice in my head commanded. But despite what I’d told Macguire, I was afraid to contact my husband. And I knew it was because, deep in my heart, I was certain he’d have bad news for me. As I debated, the phone rang again.

“Goldilocks’ Catering, Where… everything…” l A young female voice hesitantly inquired, “Er, is this Goldy, the caterer?”

“It is.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I can’t talk business, unfortunately, because I’m kind of tied up at the moment.”

“This is Kiki Belknap, calling from Prospect Financial? I’m Tony Royce’s secretary? Is he there? Because – “

“Of course he’s not here, it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning! Why on earth would Tony be here?”

“I’m sorry, because his calendar says so? I just don’t know, are you like, meeting with him, or just talking to him on the phone? It says here, Goldy, ask about menus for August reception, eight A.M., with your phone number – “

“Look, please let me call you back, Kiki, I have to check on my friend. Marla Korman – you know her, don’t you? She was supposed to be with him – “

“But you see, our office has just had a call from the police – “

“What did they say?” I interrupted sharply.

“They wanted to know where Tony was! And I’m like, I mean, after last week with Mr. Lipscomb, I’m like, what are you talking about, asking where Mr. Royce is – “

“I have to go,” I said brusquely. “Tony’s not here.” I tapped the button impatiently to get a dial tone, then punched in Marla’s number. Her machine picked up; I slammed the phone down.

I tiptoed quickly to Arch’s room. His bed was empty. Wherever he’d gone, he’d taken Jake. I rushed down to the kitchen. Where was Arch? There was a note crookedly taped onto the table:

Mom, I’m taking Jake for a walk around the lake. Don’t worry, I’m wearing my rainjacket just in case. I’ll go out the back way. Love, Arch.

I was so upset I forgot Tom’s number and had to look up the sheriffs department’s main number in the phone book. The operator put me through to Tom’s extension, where I again encountered a machine. I urged Tom to call me ASAP; I turned on the water without fitting grounds into the espresso machine. To make matters worse, when hot water spewed all over the counter, I picked up a dry sponge and managed to slosh the scalding liquid onto my hands and the floor. “Start over,” I mumbled. I dropped a paper towel onto the steaming counter and fumbled for the coffee beans.