Soul Hostage (4 page)

Despite my uneasiness about Louis Stoaffer, I again found myself hanging on each word and did not like waiting as he took a long pause.

Finally, he took a deep breath and continued with renewed energy,  “All I can is that the woman was a lying bitch!”

Joey showed his support by exclaiming, “Fuck the bitch, Lou!”

Stoaffer turned to him with a slightly-twisted grin curling his lips.  “Thank you for your support, my friend. As I was saying, I was under the false impression our state of holy matrimony was in fine shape. My business was doing quite well, which allowed us to enjoy a very comfortable life.”  He paused again as his mind ran through memories of good times. 

Looking into the rearview mirror, I was again struck by how different Louis Stoaffer was from the old drunk I had first seen in the grocery store about an hour earlier.  I should have been disturbed more by such a distinct change. It probably would have bothered me more if I had not gotten so caught up in his story.  Fortunately, nothing crossed the car’s path during that time, because I seriously doubt that I would have seen anything.

“We had a nice big house on the cliffs overlooking the ocean, drove the newest luxury cars, vacationed in various exotic locations, and lived a fine life.”  His smile faded away, and he stopped for a few seconds.  “Of course, everything changes. My life changed incredibly one October night in two thousand three.”  Stoaffer’s face grew a bit paler, and he shook his head.   

“Theresa and I went to dinner at the home of another couple, my business partner and his wife, Gary Blake and his wife … uh … Linda.  I met Gary in college and thought of him as a brother.  I would have done anything for him or given anything to him.  We had been roommates, and I knew Gary better than any person I’ve ever known.  Lots of late nights spent talking over beers instead of studying gives you a good look inside of a person.  The problem did not lie in how well I knew Gary.  Rather, the trouble was in how poorly I knew Theresa.” 

“Hold on,” Joey interrupted.  “I gotta pee. And as much as I’m enjoyin’ the story, we gotta figger out what we’re doin’ here.”

Louis Stoaffer nodded and was quiet.

“So, Louis, if you would be kind enough to point us in the direction of a gas station.” 

Stoaffer looked a bit confused.  The clicking of the breath mint sped up, and finally he answered, “I really haven’t the slightest idea.  I mean, I’m just passing through the area like you.”

Before I could ask Louis what he meant, Joey blurted out, “There’s a gas station!”

The small rundown mini-mart offered a couple of self-serve gas pumps. But considering it was the only building we had seen in the last few miles, the place must have seemed like an oasis to Joey’s bladder.  I pulled the car next to a dusty old payphone about fifty yards away.  He was out of the car and trotting toward the store before the car had stopped.  

I had no reason to use the phone but figured a couple of guys parked next to a payphone appeared more normal. That’s me, always thinking.  As I glanced around the area in every direction other than the backseat, I noticed a yellowed piece of paper taped to the payphone -
Out of Order
.  So much for looking normal.

Despite Stoaffer’s transformation from babbling drunk to coherent human being, I was still disturbed by the sight of him.  However, my uneasiness did not stop my eyes from flying to the backseat at the sound of his voice.

“Well, I’d have to say that our friend Joey is quite the hothead.”  He made the observation in the same bright tone that someone would comment on good weather.“The term
sociopath
comes to mind.”

I turned to face him with the idea of challenging his opinion, but my idea went out the window as soon as I made eye contact.  Something about the deep blueness I found in the eyes made me forget what had been planning to say.

“He seems a bit … uh … unpredictable.”  Stoaffer did not attempt to hide his amusement. “Of course, it’s not my place to say, but don’t you think his lack of control could get you into a world of trouble, Thomas?”

Without thinking, I shot back, “Joey has always been there for me.  He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“As the saying goes, ‘with friends like that who needs enemies’?’” The old man paused and stared as if memorizing every feature of my face before he said, “You know the things Joey does are wrong.  We could easily start this car, drive away, and leave the darkness far behind.” 

I stared at him for a moment trying to figure out if he was mocking me.  The words he had just spoken perfectly matched a thought which had run through my head many times since I had met Joey.  The shock of hearing my thoughts voiced aloud froze me.

Before I could recover from my verbal paralysis, Stoaffer continued, “This could be your last chance to save yourself.” 

I was still staring at Stoaffer when Joey yanked open the rear passenger door and got in. 

“The clerk in the store was watchin’ TV.  Looks like our friends at the store got loose and are talkin’ to the police. Didn’t hear nothing about a description.”

I stared at Stoaffer for a few more seconds before looking toward Joey and saying, “Well, we’ve got to decide what exactly what we’re doing next.  It’s not a real good idea to be just cruising around like this.”  The irritated tone in my voice was not missed by the others.

“Thomas, you need tuh lighten up.” Joey         grinned at me.  “Everythin’ looks okay.  Now we’re headin’ south with our new best friend.  Right, Lou?”

Louis Stoaffer gave me one of those looks that say
this is exactly what I’m talking about
.  With his mouth, he said, “Right!  Let’s go to San Pietro!”

The enthusiasm bubbling up from the backseat was too much to resist, and I found myself smiling against my will. But even as a smile came to my face, a sense of  dread was rising inside of me. 

I spun the car around and headed south back the way we had come.   

As we got closer to the scene of our recent crime, the car grew quiet. None of us could resist turning to gaze down the street leading to the grocery store.  About a quarter of a mile down the street was a mass of cop cars, ambulances, and blinking blue and red lights. 

As I stared in that direction, a clear picture of a dark-haired, middle-aged woman with blood oozing from holes in her chest and cheek shoved in the space beneath the cash register floated into my head.  I resisted a sudden strong urge to press the gas pedal to the floor and speed far away from the place as fast as possible.  Apparently my temptation was obvious as Joey’s hand touched my shoulder as if to let me know I need to stay calm.

“I think we cud all use a little distraction.”  Joey commented.  “Lou, keep goin’ with yer story.”

Louis smiled as if he had just gotten a huge compliment.  “Well, let’s see, where was I?”

“You went to dinner at your partner’s house.”  I offered quickly in hope the old man’s story would indeed distract me enough to keep images of corpses out of my brain.

“Thank you, Thomas.  Yes, Theresa and I had gone to have dinner at Gary’s home.  It was just about ten minutes away in the hills above San Juan Capistrano.”  He smiled at the memory.  “It was a lovely place.”  His smile twisted. “Turned out to be a little piece of hell for me though.  As soon as we got there, I felt something wrong.  I couldn’t put my finger on it right then, but I’ve had plenty of time to play things over and over in my mind.”  His eyes looked as though they were staring off at something in the distance.  “Plenty of time to play things over and over in my mind. So much time in fact maybe  it’s driven me crazy.”

His eyes suddenly became clear again. They jumped around the car as if seeing his surroundings for the first time.  Stoaffer’s eyes eventually rested upon the rearview mirror, and eye contact with me seemed to calm him.  He gave me a broad grin before continuing his story.

“As I was saying, something didn’t feel right that night.  Even on the short drive over, Theresa was unusually cheerful.  She had never hesitated about voicing her negative opinion of Gary and Linda or ‘Gutless Gary and the mouse’ as she referred to them.  On this night, I remember that she had only complimentary things to say.  This was another strange thing which I did not think about until much later.

“From the moment Linda met us at the door, she seemed afraid to look me in the eye.  Although we were never close to one another,  I could see that something was bothering her.  Her smile was forced, and she spoke too quickly. Theresa must have seen it too, because she whisked Linda into the kitchen. I continued through the large entryway toward the bar where I knew I would find Gary. He was behind the dark oak bar filling a large crystal decanter with Scotch. 

“‘Putting out the cheap stuff?’ I joked as I walked toward him. I must have really startled him, because he jumped spilling some of the liquid on the black marble which topped the bar.  His eyes shot up to meet mine and then at once moved away. 

“’Uh, no … I was just getting ready … making sure we had enough to keep you happy.’  Gary forced out a laugh as he grabbed a small bar towel from the counter and began wiping up the spilled whisky.  After a few seconds, he abruptly dropped the towel on the bar and walked around to me.  ‘It’s really great to see you, Louis.’  He said this and then gave me the kind of hug given by men who haven’t seen one another for years or don’t expect to see to see one another for years to come. 

“The embrace definitely took me by surprise. Gary wasn’t the type of person given to emotional displays or physical contact. In fact, that was what made him such a good business partner.  He didn’t have a temper.  He never got overwhelmed by stress.  He always showed up when he was expected.
Even keel
was the perfect description of the Gary I knew.  His behavior on this evening certainly didn’t fit.  Then everything suddenly made sense to me.

“The obvious cause of the evening’s strangeness was that Gary and Linda were having marital problems.  It certainly explained Linda’s avoidance of making eye contact with me.  She felt guilty.  As for Gary, many guys get over-emotional when dealing with problems at home. After coming to what seemed a plausible understanding of the situation, I was feeling a bit superior.  Dropping into one of the dark leather barstool, I watched Gary as he went back to wiping up the spilled whisky.

“‘Oh, well.  You know what they say, ‘Don’t cry over spilled Scotch’.  I made the comment without trying to be particularly clever.  However, Gary’s response came as roaring laughter which continued far too long.

“The whole thing was a bit uncomfortable. Gary was filling the awkward pauses with humming as he cleaned up the mess and finished arranging the bar.  I remember that part very distinctly because it struck me as strange that he would be humming that old tune
Happy Days Are Here Again
.

At the mention of the song title, a picture of Louis Stoaffer looking at me from the back of the store as he hummed that same tune flashed into my mind.  My head reflexively jerked around to look at him. When you are driving, having your head reflexively jerking  around to look at someone in the backseat is never a good idea. The result was that the Lincoln drifted off the solid pavement of the road onto the loose gravel of the shoulder.  I yanked the steering wheel in an effort to get the car back on the road.

The car’s movement after this is difficult to describe. What must been only a few seconds seemed to last minutes. The Lincoln spun around showing blurred objects through the windows.  The only thing staying sharp to me was the image of the old man’s smiling face.  I could not see Joey from where I sat.  The car seemed to shudder for a moment like a dog trying to get dry.  Then with a sudden thud, it came to a jarring halt at a slight angle.

The shock of the abrupt stop froze everything for a few seconds.  There was silence. 

Then Joey’s words burst out, “What the fuck, Thomas?” 

Stoaffer began giggling nervously.

It took me a moment to catch my breath and let the fast pounding of my heart slow.

“Shit.” I yelled as I turned off the car and pushed open the door.

My comment did not do justice to the situation before me.  The reason the Lincoln had stopped so suddenly was obvious.  The back of the car had come to rest on top of a low tree stump. I looked around at the wide area of gravel that made up the shoulder.  Except for a few soda cans and other pieces of trash tossed out of cars speeding by, it was clean, bare, and flat.  In fact, the only thing that could have any chance of slowing a car whatsoever was the lone tree stump upon which the Lincoln was sitting.

Joey had rolled out of the car and was standing beside me.  He stepped close to the car and fell to his knees with his back to me. For a second, I thought he was praying but then realized he was checking under the car.

As he raised himself gradually to his feet, he was slowly shaking his head. A flash of rage hit me as I heard him chuckling.  “Damn, Thomas!  You could finduh turd in a fielduh diamonds!”  The chuckle grew into a full-throated laugh.   

The rage I had felt for an instant was gone.  I could not help but join in with Joey’s laughter. It felt good to laugh.  Maybe it was the release of tension.  Maybe it was a way of letting go of some of the horrible images of death that had been stuck in my head.  Maybe it was a way of spitting in the face of an absurd twist of fate which would put us here on a strangely empty highway beside a car stuck on a tree trunk.

Even more absurd was the idea of Louis providing the voice of sanity. “It’s a bad idea to be standing here beside the road drawing attention to ourselves.  We need to get moving.” 

We both stopped laughing.  Not because of what the old man had said but because of the strong smell of gasoline.

As if on cue, the three of us tilted our heads to the side and stooped over to look under the car.  The source of the smell was clear as we saw a small stream of gas trickling from under the car to the ground. 

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled.

“You got that right.”  Joey commented.  “Now what?”

“It looks like we have a slight change of plans.”  Louis Stoaffer observed.  “However, in any case, I think our first order of business should be to get away from this road.”