Lainey Quilholt Mysteries Collection

Chapter 4-2

The loud motorcycles finally belched their last. Hoots and wild yells from the Harley g**g carried to my ears. Their music was more the hard rock style, and though it was distant, and wouldn"t really bother our music, I felt the night had made a strange turn. Almost as though the beginnings of a nice, quiet night was about to go sour.

I hadn"t realized the park was so large, and had more than one party spot with a fire pit. Every now and again their distant cackles of laughter burst through the thick night air and made me aware of them. I couldn"t see much through the fog, especially beyond fifteen feet. Earlier, when we had come up the muddy trail, I had noticed there were other off-branching trails. Wendy was the only one who knew exactly where our party was. She said there were three different spots that she knew of, and that one trail went way back into the woods and there was a bridge over the small creek that eventually emptied into the river.

I guessed the other group might have been a hundred feet away. At one point flames shot high through the trees, like someone had thrown pure alcohol on the flames. Yells, and surprised cries rose from their antics. Laughter told me that they were just messing around. I didn"t like the idea that they might burn the whole woods down, I didn"t need to add that to my list of life-threatening moments in my young life. Staring off in that direction, I wondered if Weeks and his deputy had stopped the three men—Lassiter and the other two—I"d seen at the grill, and given them tickets for DUI. It didn"t seem like it had ruined their day. Either that, or they had driven across the bridge into Illinois well out of Weeks" jurisdiction. From the wild laughter and loud, alcoholic-induced voices, I surmised they"d brought friends with them and had been here drinking for hours.

“Are you going to college this fall?” Brett asked, pulling my attention away from my distracted thoughts.

“Yeah. I"m signed up for taking courses over at Whitney.”

“Really? Wow. I am too!”

“No!” I said, excited and turned slightly toward him.

“Are you still writing?”

“Yeah. I mean, I"m trying. I quit writing romances, and I"m trying to write mysteries, now. You?”

“I haven"t written anything, except songs.” He carefully put his beer down on the ground. “Speaking of which, I"ve just written something—it"s not quite done yet.” He picked up his guitar and re-tuned it. Then strummed a few chords and everyone"s attention was on him.

“I call this "Lainey"s Song",” he said, looking directly at me. I thought I would melt of embarrassment.

It started out light, he sang, “Lainey, Lainey, where have you gone? I"ve missed my precious shadow as I write this song…” He strummed more chords and hummed. “It"s not finished, but I"ll work on it.” My face warmed from embarrassment.

Wendy and Nadine were smiling at me from across the way. Still with the brown bottles in their hands.

When he was done, I said, “I can"t believe you wrote a song for me.”

“Sure. I wrote it for you,” he said with a chuckle.

“When?” I didn"t want to believe him. But it felt nice that he was being so romantic toward me, after all this time I"d been so attracted to him, but he had a girlfriend at the time. I wondered about that.

“This afternoon.”

“No way.”

“Yes. Way.”

I chuckled nervously as his arm slid around my shoulders and rocked a little on our log.

“So you and Rebbecca broke up?” I asked. What would it do me to beat around the bush? I needed to know for sure, since she was nowhere to be seen tonight.

“Yeah. Last year.”

“Seriously? I thought you two were going to get married.”

He shrugged, picked up his bottle of beer and took a swig and avoided the subject, so I dropped it.

“You guys are so quiet!” the new person said as he strode in carrying a large flat box. It was Moon. “I nearly went to the other party, and realized five steps in, it couldn"t be you guys. I nearly couldn"t find you, through the thick cotton. Except for the fire, I might have gotten lost!” Moon. He was so melodramatic.

I looked out, and realized the cottony mass flowing over the floor of the woods had gotten thicker.

His sister, Nadine, went up to him. “What"s in the box?”

“I"ve brought goodies!” Moon announced. Two other guys had come with him, and said hi to Nadine. One had red hair and seemed to know Nadine. The guy with dark, curly hair moved closer to Wendy and said, “Well, how "bout it, Wendy?”

“How "bout what?” Wendy said, smirking.

“How "bout some cheap s*x?” A couple of people around them made whistles and laughed rowdily.

Shocked, I watched the exchange. In fact everyone was watching and had become quiet, waiting for her response.

“No, sorry, Delbert, I only like raunchy s*x,” Wendy drawled and took a big slug of beer. Laughs and jeers erupted, and the whole thing died down as Delbert moved to join his friends on the other side of the fire circle. All a big joke, ha-ha.

Everyone gathered around Moon to see what he had in the box. I knew he often got day-old pastries, breads and other foods left over from The Huddle at the end of the day. I"d often been on the receiving end of a few of those treats through Nadine.

The HuddleI grinned, watching everyone surround him, and his having to swat a few hands. “Don"t get greedy. There"s enough for everyone. Here you are, there you are… This is like Trick-or-Treat! Oh, take a napkin, here… there you go…” One by one, each person stepped away with some sort of pastry—either a cookie, a puff, or giant muffin. Wendy and Nadine both came away with muffins, and they brought me and Brett each one.

“Blueberry! oh, thank you!” I said. Things became quiet while everyone ate.

“Ah, I"ll pass,” Brett said. He was drinking beer, so I figured he"d want something salty, instead. We were making small talk when arguing voices floating up the pathway caught our attention. In a moment, two new people walked through the fog into our circle. Shocked, I recognized AJ. His blond hair glistened in the firelight, his blue eyes looked almost feral, and he wasn"t smiling as he strode quickly up to our group.

Behind him a woman with a deep frown on her face, and glittery jewelry followed him. I didn"t understand why he was here. But the person following him was the last one I would have expected—Arline. She seemed determined to tail him as he wound his way through the crowd, found the cooler with beer and pulled one out. The downward turn of his mouth told me he wasn"t in a party kind of mood either.

“Who invited them?” Wendy"s voice filtered to me as she spoke low, standing to my left. Nadine next to her, still nursing her bottle of beer.

“No one,” Moon, who stood beside her, said. He was finished handing out pastries and was now standing beside his sister with his hands on his hips looking disgusted. “When they left, they were arguing. Loud,” Moon said. “Mickey had to make them leave.” Mickey Johnson was the night manager of The Huddle. “Anyway, Beaumont left in his car, and she followed in hers. I don"t know what the argument is over, but she isn"t taking no for an answer.”

The Huddle“What could they be arguing about?” Nadine asked.

“Give me that,” Wendy said, tossing her empty bottle to the ground, and taking the nearly full bottle of beer from Nadine"s hand. Nadine screeched at her, but it didn"t faze her. Wendy tipped it up, drinking almost half and then let out a loud belch.

Moon shook his head. “I don"t know. I could only overhear AJ say something like I don"t have that much right now. And she was all, I need it! Now!” his voice low as he spoke. At the moment AJ and Arline weren"t speaking to one another, but Arline stayed close, almost like she had glued herself to his hip.

I don"t have that much right now.I need it! Now!“Wow. Sounds like a money issue,” Nadine said and our eyes met.

I"d wondered where—or who—she was getting her money from. They had dated once, but why would she be asking him for money now? It would explain where she was getting money for all her fancy clothes, if he, for some reason, was giving her money.

“I don"t know—” Moon"s words were cut off with the sound of voices in a heated argument. Arline had stomped up to AJ.

“You aren"t going to get away with it! I"ll go to your daddy, and tell him everything!” Arline threatened, her jaw set, her stance defiant. “Then you won"t be so high and mighty, Mr. Quarterback!”

He growled something inaudible. Arline slapped him. The c***k of the slap brought everyone"s conversation to a sudden stop, and we all stared.

Wendy"s body movement caught me by surprise. She took two bold steps in the direction of the argument. Nadine and Moon both grabbed Wendy by the arm, jerking her back almost like a dog on a tether. The look on Wendy"s face was like Nadine had slapped her. Moon moved in front of her as well. Her emotions seem palpable momentarily, but she didn"t move any further toward the two.

It was a good thing, too, because the argument became loud. AJ suddenly lunged at Arline, and pushed her. Arline wobbled on her inappropriate sandal wedge shoes with cork soles, arms cartwheeling, and somehow managed to keep from going down on her butt.

“No. More. Got it?” he growled, moving in, hands flaying out. “I"m tapped out. Okay?”

Two guys standing nearby jumped in front of him. AJ stared at the two guys with no necks and thick arms who towered over him. They wore the team"s jerseys, and I figured they were part of his football team because he backed off. AJ"s body language was enough to send chills through me. He threw his beer to the ground and stomped away without a word, and disappeared into the fog down the path, toward the parking lot.

“Teenage anger and angst at its best,” Brett said low to me. But it wasn"t over, yet.

There was a momentary lull. Arline seemed to be in two minds what to do as she aimed a scathing few last words in his direction—things I wouldn"t print, let alone repeat aloud.

Then, as though making a decision to keep the fight going, Arline stomped down the trail as if to follow AJ. Out of the gathering fog, two girls, coming from the same direction AJ had gone, stepped in front of her. One was Bridget, who I"d seen earlier today in her car when she had stopped to talk to AJ in front of my aunt"s store. Her last name, Hudson, finally came to mind. Her friend, however, I didn"t know her name. They both were into the Goth look. Fishnet stockings on the legs, lacy cami, micro-mini skirts made of black leather, no less. Heavy make-up, with attention to the eyes, and wildly ratted up hair-dos made my ID possible in this light even at fifteen, or so, feet distance.