Dempster Road

Chapter 14

Stella worried a fresh pencil and stared at her boss.

"Maybe you should go up there too, Barney."

"Who minds the store here? We can't have an office takin' calls with nobody to respond."

"You could always deputize Aaron and Fred temporarily." Stella gave him an 'it can't hurt shrug'.

"Christ they retired years ago."

"They're still pretty active, Barney, and it's only for what . . . a day?"

Barney straightened up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is too unreal to dismiss. Call state back again and tell them I said we don't need no further proof."

"And what about Stan and Belinda?"

He looked stricken and slapped his head. "Shit yeah. told him to keep diggin' around, see if he could get anything out of her. I need to call him again."

He looked at the faxes and chomped his lip. "Alright, give Fred a call and tell 'em to get here pronto."

****

Stanley listened on the phone once more as Barney relayed the information about the other killings, her knowledge of two possible victims, and the coincidental proximity of Adelaine Curtis's car. It wasn't a slam dunk, but she looked very good for the crimes.

He said he would be arriving in about one and a half hours, and that Stanley was to simply keep her in sight, and hopefully not let her leave. He was not to do any further questioning in case she spooked. And above all he was to keep Belinda away from the woman, and away from any hint of a story.

Stanley promised, hanging up, praying he could keep it. He never should have said anything. He returned to the dining room and panicked when he saw the two women head to head in conversation.

"Sorry about that. Our station secretary just can't resist calling me about trivial matters. Aah, Bel, could I talk with you a sec . . . privately?" He smiled at Adelaine and explained that it was about their plans to stay over and the financial arrangements.

Belinda gave him a fish eye but complied without a fuss and Adelaine seemed to accept the explanation.

"What's this bullshit about financial arrangements, Stanley? You told me this was on you."

"It is, it is. Calm down. That call from Barney was to tell me he's coming here himself."

"What? Why? If this is some cheesy way--"

"Bel, please listen." He told her everything, all the while hoping and praying he could get her to keep it secret until he said otherwise.

When he finished she went into a whole wild spin of theories, and how she would construct the story, and that she would need more information from the woman herself, and Stanley saw his job swirling away like toilet water.

"You can't! You promised me you'd wait!"

"You didn't know all this then." She countered.

"Bel you promised. This could mean my job, and incidentally, the end of your inside source."

"In what context?"

He gaped at her. "A police source for God's sake!"

"Oh. Okay, I thought maybe you were being . . . never mind." She folded her arms. "So now what?"

"I just do my best to keep her here, or at least under surveillance until Barney arrives."

"That's it? No questions?"

"Absolutely not, Bel. You promised."

"Alright, alright. We better get back or she'll get suspicious, or leave."

Adelaine watched them settle back in their chairs and fuss with their drinks and plates and then smiled and spoke.

"Everything settled?"

"Oh yeah, we just needed to verify our mutual positions regarding what Stanley here told me was a free overnight."

"And it's not?"

Belinda took in Stanley's glare. "It will be," She smiled back, drinking some more of her wine and turned to Adelaine. "So what's up for you tonight? Anything special?"

"Nothing until I get my car fixed." Adelaine turned a stony look at Stan.

"What's wrong with it?" Stan took over, hoping to exclude Belinda.

"I don't know I'm no car person. It just makes a really funny noise sometimes when I accelerate or make sharp turns. I'm a little concerned . . . driving alone I mean." She twirled her wine glass. "Do you know about cars?"

Belinda began an eye roll, and boggled when Stanley offered to have a look at it for her.

"We could take it for a short run and see if I can tell what it is." He saw Belinda go on red alert, and he added that maybe just around the parking lot would do.

"Gee that would be swell. Do you mind leaving him with me for a short while?"

The question startled Belinda, and she flushed and shook her head. "No- no not at all. Stan's very good . . . for a short while." The words cut like razor blades. She finished her wine and stood up. "So then, while you two are playing mechanic I think I'll grab a long hot shower." She placed a hand on Adelaine's shoulder and said good night, then walked around and planted a chaste kiss on Stan's cheek.

"Is she upset?" Adelaine watched Belinda cross the room, wave to Emily and start up the stairs.

"Nah. Bel's fine, besides, we're just good friends . . . nothing really serious." He finished his own drink and patted his thighs with a little drumbeat. "So you wanna go now?"

"I have to go to my room for a minute. I'll meet you on the parking lot. It's the dark blue Honda." Adelaine stated with a blank delivery, cold eyes taking in the amused look on the Deputy's face.

"Yeah I- I uh- okay then see you there." He stood and waited for her to go ahead, kicking himself for almost blurting out that he knew about the car.

****

Barney tramped the gas and barrelled down the long round about road to Hurston. He hoped Stanley was able to follow orders, and that Belinda was behaving, because he'd just finished leaving the town of Dempster in the hands of Stella, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

Retirement could very easily arrive sooner if they blew this case. His two temporary deputies had seen sixty odd years of service between them, and were long retired, but they seemed to think that they held some special status when it came to local law enforcement.

Many a night one or the other had dragged some poor citizen into the jail for some minor transgression. Fortunately they were both mesmerized by Stella, so for the short time he expected to be away, he trusted she could manage.

The setting sun was in his eyes when he made the turn west toward Hwy. 6 and he pulled out his sunglasses, dismayed at the finger smudges on the lenses. He focused half his mind on the road and the other half on his pending interview, calculating the best approach he might use with a suspected serial killer.

It wouldn't be easy and could turn out to be a fiasco if his theory was wrong. He'd just have to play it by ear. He hit the radio button and listened for the weather report.