Homecoming, page 13
Darting his eyes about the restaurant, he didn't know what he was looking for, but anything would do to delay the thing that he both desired and dreaded with his whole being and at the same time.
The place was practically empty now save for the staff. The full moon was out and visible through the window wall that encircled the restaurant, as for the first time in a while now, the snow had stopped and the sky had cleared, leaving a sparkling, star-infused sky overhead.
The snow-covered treetops glistened under the blue moon and the whole picture struck him as serene and momentarily calming.
The scene was slightly spoilt, however, by the sight of an employee dragging some bin bags around the corner towards the bins before stopping to take what was no doubt supposed to be an unobserved piss up against a tree.
Steam from the guy rose up as his stream hit the frozen night air and splashed onto the snow. It was the sheer opposite of the natural beauty on show tonight, but there was something comfortingly earthly about the sight, and his own tipsy mind chuckled at the sight before the man suddenly disappeared from view.
Marko’s brow furrowed as his mind tried to process what had just happened. One second, he'd been grinning like an idiot at the sight, then the very next, the man had disappeared. His fuzzy mind thought that he'd snatched a glimpse of sudden movement as though something had grabbed the employee and yanked him out of sight. But even as he shook his head trying to focus, he couldn't be entirely sure of what he'd seen, apart from the fact that one second a guy had been taking a piss, and the next he was gone.
“What the hell?” he hissed as he slowly stood up and walked over to the window wall for a better look.
His legs felt a little unsteady from a combination of the alcohol, the company, and the scary thought of what the night ahead might still have in store. As he reached the window, he stared out into the night, wondering what he'd seen or if he'd actually seen anything at all.
There was nothing out there now, but the alcohol coursing through his veins was making it difficult to focus.
“What are you looking at?” Lizzie startled him from behind.
“I... I'm not sure,” he answered honestly as he continued to look out into the night.
“You know, I was thinking… if you, well, that is to say that if you'd like to...” Lizzie started, but Marko had already wandered away from her.
He followed the wall around until he spotted an exterior door that led out through the kitchen.
“You could have just said no,” Lizzie said quietly from behind him.
“Huh?”
“I was throwing myself at you. If you're not interested, then there’s no need to be cold about it.”
“What? No, sorry, it’s just that... shit, I don't know. I think I saw something outside.”
“Can I help you?” a staff member asked curiously as Marko was halfway through the kitchen door.
He recognised the man as Baker Reigns, the manager of The View Lounge.
“Who was just outside, Baker?” Marko asked.
“Who was what?” the manager asked, obviously confused.
“There was a guy taking out the rubbish. I saw him through the window and then...”
“And then what?” Baker asked, unsure what was happening.
“And then he just kind of… disappeared,” Marko offered, hating the way his words must be sounding.
“What do you mean, disappeared?” Lizzie asked.
“I... I don't know. One second he was there, and the next he... wasn't?” he replied unconvincingly.
“Go and round up your staff and check that everyone’s here,” Lizzie ordered the restaurant manager.
“Look, I'm not sure what this, but it’s late and my people need to get home,” Baker replied slowly as if talking to a child.
“Do it,” Marko said in a strong voice as he looked at Lizzie, her gaze giving him the strength of his convictions.
He had seen something. He might not be able to understand what it was, but he had seen something.
“Look, Daniel...,” Baker started, “just because you ask me to do something doesn't mean that I’m going to do it.”
“Yes, you are,” he replied in an official tone. “You're going to do it because I'm not asking you, I'm telling you as a police officer. Now go and do as you're told. NOW!” he emphasised when the manager didn't move quickly enough.
“You know, you're really quite sexy when you do the whole ‘taking control’ cop thing,” Lizzie whispered in his ear.
But he didn't feel sexy; he just suddenly felt very nervous as a night full of exotic and scary promise suddenly became a sobering trip into a full-blown work outing.
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CHAPTER 10
Show and Tell
Just as Belle was turning the corner onto Nathan’s street, she saw Tara pulling out of the driveway and heading off at some considerable speed.
Her journalistic instinct suddenly made her torn between pursuing what Nathan might have to offer about his father’s legacy, and wondering just where the town’s constable was heading off to at this time of night and at speed. She wondered if Tara had received news about the King brothers, the two main suspects in the O’Reilly killing, and considered following the town’s constable. But in the end, she figured that she was better off speaking to Nathan while he was alone, just in case there was anything that he might feel more comfortable saying without his fiancée being there.
She rang his doorbell and saw the slight look of panic in his eyes when he opened the door and found her standing there.
“Don't panic.” She smiled at his discomfort. “I'm here on business.”
“What kind of business?”
“My kind. Are you going to let me in because I'm freezing my ass off out here.”
“Um, Tara’s just got called away,” he said uncomfortably.
“Relax, Studly. I just wanted to talk to you about the Institute.”
“Oh..., okay then. I guess you can come in.”
He led her back into the house that she'd been in only 24 hours before, only this time she felt in control because this was on her terms now.
“You want something to drink?” he called over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen.
“Coffee would be great.”
“No problem,” he replied, sounding relieved that she hadn't asked for anything alcoholic.
“So how can I help you?” he asked as he waited by the coffee pot for it to brew.
“It’s... well, it's about your father.”
“My father?”
“Well more the Institute, to be honest. What was he working on up there? Your father, I mean.”
“To be honest, he kept all of that stuff pretty close to his chest.”
“Was he military funded?”
“Ah, so you're after a conspiracy angle.” Nathan grinned.
“Maybe. You think there is one?”
“Look, my dad was a scientist, a doctor… he was only interested in helping people – healing, you know?”
“It was your grandfather, right? The one who started the Schaefer Institute.”
“Edgar.” He nodded back. “But if you're looking for a deep dive on the Schaefer men, then you're going to be disappointed, I’m afraid. The only man I ever met more secretive than my father was my grandfather. I think it's a Schaefer trait.”
“Well you seem to have turned out okay,” she teased.
“Oh, if you only knew.” He laughed and she quickly joined him.
He poured the coffee and sat down opposite her across the kitchen island. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Tara. Two of her childhood friends had found comfort and love with each other, and she envied them that. The longest relationship she’d ever been in had barely been a footnote in her life. For as long as she could remember, she’d run from the faintest whiff of intimacy, and as such, she'd spent most of her life alone; even when she had been with someone, there had still been a chasm between them.
“So what happened to your father… if you don't mind me asking,” she added quickly.
“Nothing too exciting.” He shrugged. “Dad worked too hard for too long until it consumed him. He had little else in his life and eventually it was all he had. He and mum drifted apart, same with me. I think that even if I'd followed in his footsteps and gone to work at the Institute, he'd still have barely noticed me.”
“Sorry, I didn't mean to dig at any wounds,” she said, recognising the parallels with her own life.
“It’s okay. It’s just a boring and all too predictable story. Dad had a mini stroke and refused to take the warning. A couple of months later, with no change to his lifestyle, the big one hit, and ‘that was all,’ she wrote.”
“Is the Institute still privately owned?”
“To be honest, I'm not really sure what I can say, or what I should say. Mum dealt with the legal stuff, through the lawyers, that is. I think that she signed some kind of an exclusivity deal with... well, with some government department,” he finished awkwardly.
“The military, right?”
“I... maybe. I really shouldn't say.”
“You know I can find all this out on my own? I was just hoping to save myself a little time.”
“Oh, alright then. Yes, I’m pretty sure that it’s some kind of military contract, but don't quote me on that. Literally.” He laughed. “It’s all very hush-hush, but I mean that’s hardly surprising given who you're dealing with of course.”
“They wanted the name.”
“The name?”
“Pay your mum to use the centre but not take full ownership. They wanted to keep your family name on the door.”
“I guess small towns get suspicious mighty easily.”
“Right, so they keep the status quo and keep pumping money into Wellspring.” She nodded, half to herself.
“I suppose folks round here might get a touch spooked with change. Keeping the family name over the door helps to allay that, but so what? Those guys have been up there a while now, and as far as I’m aware, we’ve yet to get blown up.”
“Is the place still set up for medical research?”
“As far as I know. I haven't been up there for years, but beyond that, I'm afraid I’m not much help. What are you thinking?”
“I went up there. Met with a Dr Sutherland. You meet him?”
“Actually yes. Schnauzer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Fred. He’s Sutherland’s dog. Came in for a check up and annual shots a few weeks back.”
“What did you make of him?”
“Okay guy, I guess. A little uptight but friendly enough.”
Belle nodded as she digested the information. She'd guessed that the military had moved into the Institute, and now Nathan had confirmed that. The fact that they'd kept the Schaefer name seemed the smart thing to do. After all, Nathan was right – if the folks around here had started to see legions of army vehicles moving in, they'd have gotten spooked. Whatever they were doing up there, they were keeping it quiet while continuing to spread money around town.
“Where’d she go?” Belle suddenly asked.
“I'm sorry?”
“Tara. She was bolting out of here just as I pulled up. Police business?”
“Oh, maybe I shouldn't say.”
“Come on, Nathan. Whatever it is, it’ll be all over town before morning, you know that; besides, I'll only have to cover it for the paper anyway.”
“So you’re really sticking around then?”
“No... maybe... I don't know yet,” she answered awkwardly.
“She headed up to The View. Dan Marko called her, and she took off.”
“Is it to do with the O’Reilly case?”
“Sorry, Belle, she didn't exactly stop to fill me in on the details.”
“Does she think that the break-in and the murder are related?”
“Again, you're asking the wrong guy here.”
She nodded while she pondered her own question. It was a natural assumption to link the two together, but she also knew that whatever police procedures might be enacted anywhere else in the country, here in Wellspring, the weather had a tendency to take priority over any plans. Of course, that included her own, and the longer that she stayed here, the less of a chance she had of leaving until the spring.
“Can I ask you a question?” Nathan suddenly asked, startling her as she’d forgotten for a moment that he was even here.
“You just did,” she replied.
“Smart ass.” He grinned, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Have you actually been home yet? To your father’s place?”
“No,” she admitted with a heavy sigh. “No, I haven't. I guess... maybe I'm not ready to face that yet.”
“The spare room's still made up, and it’s getting late, Belle. Tara would tan my hide if I let you go out on your own again. Why don't you take it?”
“Oh, I couldn't.”
“Didn't you sleep okay?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
“Great… apart from the occasionally nightmare. Have you got a boiler or pipework under that room because something woke me up last night, some kind of humming?”
“That’ll be the secret lab I keep below decks.” He laughed and she joined him.
“Funny guy.”
“No, it’s just the basement. These old places sometimes have a life of their own, especially at night.” He gave a small laugh that now sounded more full of nerves than humour.
“Shit, that’s right. I remember back when we were kids, you used to be terrified of that basement.”
“Thanks for reminding me. I used to have terrible nightmares about the place, about what was going on down there. My dad once dragged me down there in the middle of the night. He always thought that immersion therapy was the best course of action, so he shoved me down there and locked the door behind me. I was so scared, Belle, I... I pissed my pants. You know that?”
“Did it work?”
“Did it bollocks. All it did was make me pretend I wasn't scared whenever my father was around. It was probably only a few minutes I was down there, but it seemed like hours to a terrified six-year-old.”
“Jesus. Dads, huh?”
“We should write a book together.” He chuckled. “Even after I moved back in here after dad died, I... I was still worried that the basement was haunted,” he added, and although he was smiling, she knew that he was being serious.
“Ghosts?”
“You don't believe in them?”
“Nope. Well not in the ‘white sheets - boo!’ kind of ghost,” she said, thinking of her problematic feelings towards the spectre of her own father that had hung over her life.
“Well then, good for you because I’ve never quite been able to shake that feeling. In fact, the spare room is actually the house’s main bedroom, my parents’ room. I took the other room. Does that make me sound like a wimp?”
“A little bit.” She grinned back. “Wait a minute… you want me to stay in the haunted room?”
“But you don't believe in things like that, right?” he teased.
“I guess, but maybe all ghosts aside, I shouldn't impose.”
“You can and you will,” he insisted. “Besides, we haven't had a proper chance to catch up, as friends, so no clumsy passes, okay?” He grinned. They both started laughing again, and soon after that it felt like they were kids again, friends again, and that felt good.
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The alcohol in his system had long since worn off by the time that Marko saw Tara’s car pull up outside the restaurant.
He’d told the few remaining diners to stay at their tables and then made the manager call all of the staff into the restaurant. There was one man unaccounted for.
In his heart, he’d been hoping that he hadn't seen what he feared out of the window, that the manager would laugh at him when he trotted out all of his staff, but that wasn't the case.
The waiter’s name was Idle Craven, and no one had seen him for the past hour or so despite the fact that he wasn't due to clock out until now.
“Missing person… I think,” he said, unable to stop himself from adding the second part as he met Tara by the entrance.
“Give me a minute,” she told him before ducking out of sight.
She disappeared into the back of the restaurant, and he waited for her to return. Everyone else was waiting out front and he'd had to repeatedly stop the few remaining diners from leaving with no little effort, his position not impressing anyone, but he’d found an extra level of authority and aggression as he'd felt Lizzie’s eyes watching on.
After a few minutes, Tara reappeared.
“You want to run by me what you saw again?” she asked.
“Outside. One of the waiters, Idle Craven, he was taking out the rubbish and something... shit, Tara, I think something grabbed him.”
“Something?”
“I couldn't see anyone else out there is what I meant, but one minute he was there and the next he wasn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Shit, maybe. I was... well, my mind was on other things,” he admitted.
“You think it was Saul King? Maybe Jeremy too?”
“Like I said, I didn't get a good enough look.”
“Anyone else see this?”
“No.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Yeah, but so what? I’m not drunk, Tara, for Christ’s sake!”
“Okay, okay, just making sure.” She nodded. “Is... is that Dr Ngo? What’s she doing here?”
“She's with me,” he replied in a small voice.
“Well, shit! Good for you… thought you were never going to ask that girl out. So how was it going? Before all this.”
“Fine, good, I think,” he replied awkwardly.
“Well as long as you're sure.” She grinned back. “Now let's go find us a missing waiter and see if we can’t still save your night.”
He led her outside after she told the rest of the people to remain inside the restaurant. There were no complaints unlike when he’d told them to stay, he noted a little bitterly.
