in Blog, Serial Fiction 12:05 pm Sunday, December 16th, 2007

“Death On The Breeze”
A Danny Stark Mystery
by James Walling

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19

Despite their immediate proximity, and the fact that they’d spent a lot of years living in the same county, Danny had no frame of reference to gauge Lorraine Elmer. Over the phone she’d sounded weak and frightened. In person her voice fluctuated like a chameleon’s skin.

“I’m sorry about what happened to that boy,” she said gravely. She navigated the little Honda competently. Danny wondered if it was the same car her son had used to transport Bean, wondered if she’d helped him force Bean into the trunk, helped him stifle the boy’s resistance, muffle his pleas for help.

The evening was cold, and Danny hadn’t dressed for a journey. He found the car’s heating unit and turned the knob from left to right. The fan whined and forced air through the vents.

“Jimmy turned up out of the blue a few months back,” Lorraine said. “I hadn’t seen him in years. I was so happy at first… but he—he’s changed. He scares me.”

Danny smiled at the plaintiveness of her tone. She noticed, and placed thin fingertips on the back of his hand.

“I tried to warn you,” she said. “I called the number—”

“I got the message. So did Bean.”

His voice was icy. She retracted her hand and they drove on in silence for several miles.

When they emerged from the emptiness of Chelatchie Prairie and crossed the intersection at the north end of Battle Ground, Danny picked out the telltale signature of the city. In town, even the quality of late night stillness is distinctive. The asphalt has a different resonance. Small noises carry further and echo more readily. The wind has almost nothing to rustle.

Lorraine pulled into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant that was popular with the locals. When she turned off the motor, Danny spoke up.

“What are we doing here?” he asked impatiently.

Lorraine opened the door and slid one slender leg out.

“A glass of wine,” she said seductively, “and a quiet booth.”

Danny frowned. Lorraine stepped out of the car and leaned in.

“You came this far,” she murmured. “Humor me.”

Danny held the door from force of habit and followed her in out of the cold. A feckless teenage hostess showed them to a corner booth and signaled for the waiter. Lorraine ordered a carafe of table red and gave the young man a knowing look.

“Just the wine,” she said, handing back the menus. The waiter nodded solemnly and left.

“Thing is,” she began softly, “I really oughta thank you.”

Danny played along.

“What for?”

“I was in a tough spot out there.”

“Out there?”

“At my place. Jimmy was sort of, well, keeping me prisoner really.”

The waiter returned with the wine. He poured them each a glass and departed.

Danny raised his glass in a toast.

“To Jimmy’s health,” he said, before taking a sip.

“He’s my son,” she said. “I couldn’t turn him out… even if, if he…”

“Killed a man?” Danny volunteered.

“Killed a man? What—”

“Assaulted your friendly local mechanic. Kidnapped a teenager. Tortured him, left him for dead—“

“I don’t know what you—“

“Save it,” Danny said, slamming his empty glass down. “You made your bed.”

Lorraine took a deep breath.

“I wanted to tell you—” she began.

“I’m all ears,” Danny said. He was beginning to lose his temper.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she said with all the earnestness at her disposal.

“Christ,” Danny spat. “You want to plead for amnesty, lady, you come to the wrong man.”

Lorraine refilled his glass first, and then topped off her own.

“Now that you run Jimmy off… now the police been around… he’ll leave me alone. He won’t dare come back.”

“Glad I could help.”

“You think I’m lying.”

“I do.”

Danny polished off his glass, and made to leave.

“Let me take you home.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Lorraine paid the bill and drove them out of town.

As they wound northward, she played her trump card.

“He would have killed that boy,” she said. “If I hadn’t begged him to stop.”

Danny considered this. As incredulous as he was, he figured it was probably true. Unlike virtually everything else she’d said, it had the ring of authenticity and it made some sense of the phone call.

“I’m not lobbying for a medal,” she added. “I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with any of this.”

She neared the bend in the road just before the garage.

“What do I have to do to convince you I’m telling the truth?”

“Don’t know why you give a damn,” he said.

She pulled the car to a stop.

“Let’s say I have my reasons.”

Danny put his hand on the door handle.

“Alright,” he said casually. “How ‘bout you point us to your son?”

He opened the door and started to get out, but she reached over to stop him, taking him by the elbow and holding him firmly.

“I wanna help,” she said in low voice. “I just need some time.”

Danny shrugged.

“It’s now or never.”

Lorraine sighed long and hard.

“Have it your way,” she said at last.

She let go of Danny’s elbow and climbed out of the car.

 

[Ed.’s Note: We sincerely apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Sometimes the Editors get ahead of themselves and just plain miss the mark. But we thank you for sticking it out with us - it’s a great mystery, isn’t it?]