The House of Wood (7 page)

The workmen were doing a good
job on the place. The old dank and dreary décor had been replaced
with pastel paints and brand new furniture. There was no mistaking
it for what it was; a country farmhouse. But now it had a hint of
modernisation. He could still see that it wasn’t quite finished.
The new gas pipes running through the living room hadn’t been boxed
in yet and the table surfaces were still covered with dust sheets
to avoid paint drips ruining them. Apart from that, it was all but
finished.

He didn’t want to waste too
much time admiring the decorating. He quickly got himself together
and started searching the house. First he swept through the living
room and then the adjacent kitchen diner. He had no idea what he
was looking for. If he could find any shred of evidence to connect
David to the house, then he would have him, hook line and sinker.
All it would take was a picture, any kind of documentation. But
there was nothing downstairs. Whoever owned the place hadn’t moved
any of their personal belongings in yet.

Nathan decided it might be
upstairs. He was about to take a look, when the sound of crunching
gravel made his ears prick up. Shit, he thought. The workmen must
be back. There was no way he could get out of the house undetected;
they would have already seen his squad car, sitting there in the
drive way. Why had he been dumb enough to park in front of the
house? He fumed. Why had he bothered to come up here in the first
place? He’d been clutching at straws. David had absolutely no
connection to the house whatsoever. It was stupid to have hoped
otherwise.

He ran back to the front door
and closed it behind him, hoping that he looked natural. The
workmen might have done him a favour.

“Hey there deputy, can I help
you?” Jonathon called over, as he jumped out of his pick-up.

“Hi Mr Kane. I was just
checking up on the place. We had a call about an hour ago, saying
there was some trouble up here.”

“Oh, what kind of trouble? I
was in town, picking up some supplies. How did you get in? I made
sure the front door was locked when I left.”

Nathan looked around, as
casually as he could. He spotted the broken upstairs window. “It
was a call about some kids throwing stones and damaging the
property. They must’ve broken in because the door was unlocked. I
was just checking to see if there had been any damage inside.”

“And?”

“It’s fine, there doesn’t seem
to be anything a miss.”

Jonathon scratched his chin. “I
wonder who made the call. It wasn’t any of my boys, they’re off
today. I’m just up here doing a few bits and pieces. It’s not like
anybody else would have been walking past. You know what people
round here are like, they avoid this place like the plague.”

“I know what you mean,” Nathan
replied. “After everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t think
somebody would want to re-build the place, let alone live in
it.”

“Damn straight. It gives me the
creeps just having to work here.”

This was it. His chance to find
answers.

“Just out of interest Jonathon,
who
does
own this place now?”

“Damned if I know.”

“So you don’t know who you’re
working for?”

“Nope. Everything’s being done
through a law firm representing the owner. It’s all very mysterious
if you ask me.”

Damn it, Nathan thought. Why
wasn’t anything going right for him? The house was probably owned
by some businessman who wants to do it up and sell it on for a
profit. David probably couldn’t even afford a place like this. It
had all been for nothing. He was going to lose Rachel again. Maybe
she was better off that way?

“Okay, well, let me know if
there’s any more trouble. It’s no doubt just kids pulling some dumb
prank. I best get back in to town.”

“It’s good to see you, Nathan.
Thanks for coming to check it out. They’d have my hide, if the
place got damaged.”

“No problem. Take it easy.”

Nathan got back in to his squad
car. A flash of anger caused him to lash out at the steering wheel
before speeding off back in the direction of the town. The knawing
at the back of his brain had intensified. Screw it, he thought.
Time to pay Gloria a visit.

***

Nathan left the squad car in
the street adjacent to Logan’s Bar, hoping that nobody would
realise it was his. He knew people talked about him and his
problem, but the less he gave them to gossip about the better.

His hands were shaking as he
walked in to the stuffy bar and ordered himself a whiskey.

“Hittin’ the hard stuff early
today aren’t we, Nate?” Gloria asked, pouring the brown liquid.

“Rough day.”

“Well honey, you ain’t gonna
make it any better, burying your face in a glass.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Nathan
replied, taking his drink and moving over to a secluded table in
the corner.

As he sat down, the cell phone
in his pocket began to vibrate. Reaching in to his pocket and
pulling it out, he took one look at the caller I.D and switched it
off. He didn’t want to be disturbed. All he wanted was to be left
alone this afternoon, so that he could give in to the temptation.
It was best that people stayed out of his way.

After the first couple of
drinks, he felt fine. He could feel his mood beginning to pick up
after the fourth. The time slipped past him quicker than his
inhibitions, his sense of right and wrong. People came and went.
Nobody bothered him, which he was glad of. He managed to keep them
away with a permanent scowl fixed on his face. After the sixth, he
promised himself he would only have one more and then get back to
the office. Maybe Connie had dug up some dirt? She better have, he
thought.

He hated Doctor Cochrane with
an intense passion that he hadn’t realised he was capable of
feeling. The reason Nathan’s life had taken a turn straight in to a
whiskey bottle was his fault. The guy was nothing but a quack, with
crackpot theories and an Ivy League diploma. It was his fault that
Sheriff Ross was on Nathan’s back all of the time. It was his fault
Rachel was turning away from him again. Everything was his
fault.

The gun on Nathan’s hip,
suddenly felt heavy. It’d be so easy, he thought, draining the last
dregs of the whiskey bottle. He was a good cop, it wouldn’t be hard
to hide the body. His hands shook. No, he thought, he couldn’t
think like that. At the end of the day, the Doctor hadn’t done
anything directly to him. When he filed his report, he had only
been doing his job. Just like me, Nathan realised. It hadn’t been
Doctor Cochrane that had ruined his life. It had been his own
weakness the day of the shootout that had led him on a downward
spiral. He had no one else to blame but himself.

Nathan wandered back over to
the bar to get another bottle. The entire room spun as he staggered
forward.

“’Nother bottle, Gloria.”

“I think you’ve had enough,
don’t you?”

“You can never have
enough.”

“If you say so, honey.”

She left to get a bottle from
the cellar. They didn’t keep Nathan’s favourite brand behind the
bar. He stood there and waited for her to return. He felt a hand on
his shoulder.

“Hey Mr. Ross, you might want
to get out to your car,” the bus boy said, looking sheepish.

“And why would that be?”

“I was just passing and could
hear the radio going crazy. Whoever was on the other end sounded
really pissed with you.”

Shit, he thought. “When Gloria
comes back up, bring the bottle out to me.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Nathan staggered out of the bar
as quickly as he could, his legs feeling like jelly. The cold air
did little to sober him up on the walk back to the squad car. He
got in and tried to compose himself before talking over the
radio.

“Dispatch, this is Deputy Ross,
go ahead.”

Nathan, where the hell have you
been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours.

“Sorry Connie, I was
occupied.”

There was silence for a few
seconds that said more than words ever could. He suddenly felt very
ashamed of himself.

“Have you managed to find
anything.”

Oh yeah, don’t worry, I risked
my job for you and found some stuff out.

His heart almost leapt out of
his mouth. “What have you found?”

I’m not sure I should tell
you.

“Look Connie, I really am
sorry, but I need to know that information. I promise I’ll make it
up to you.”

Hmm, well okay. I couldn’t find
any connection between Doctor Cochrane and the Langrishe family,
but I do know who owns the house.

“Who?” Nathan almost shouted it
down the line, growing more and more anxious to know.

The same Doctor Cochrane.

That’s it, he thought. It
wasn’t much to go on, but it might be enough to put Rachel off.
“Thanks Connie.”

No problem.

He put the microphone back on
its hook, just as the bus boy bought his bottle of whiskey out to
him. Nathan took it. He wanted to go and tell Rachel what he knew
straight away. But he doubted whether she would believe him. Not
only that, but he didn’t think it would be a good idea to drive
across town in his condition.

The bottle of whiskey sat on
the dashboard, wrapped in a brown paper bag. He licked his top lip.
The hatred for David, bubbled inside him. I’ll get you, he thought.
I’ll ruin your life just like you ruined mine.

Chapter
Seven

Nathan had been sitting around
the corner in his squad car for ages. Waiting. His anger boiling
like milk in a saucepan. Jumped up little prick, he thought. Who
does he think he is? He wouldn't let anything happen. Not to
Rachel. Not again.

He took a swig from the whiskey
bottle in his hand. All he had been able to think about for the
last few days was Rachel. He would do anything for her. He loved
her. Ever since that first day at elementary school, when he had
tripped over her in the sand pit, she’d held his heart. It almost
killed him when he heard she was dating Justin back in High School.
He was damned if he was going to lose out again.

A streak of lightning
illuminated the interior of the car. A shotgun sat in the back
seat. His hands shook. A clap of thunder startled him. This was a
bad idea. Deep down, he knew it. But he couldn't let her get
hurt.

Just then, David Cochrane came
walking round the corner. He always parked his car here. He opened
the car door and jumped out in one fluid motion. The rain was
pouring. He lifted his jacket collar up around his neck. The doctor
had spotted him.

“Evening, Nathan. I don't envy
you being stuck out in this lousy weather,” David shouted over the
pattering of the rain on his rooftop. “God knows where this came
from!”

Nathan didn't stop. He shoved
the other man up against the car.

“Hey, what do you think you’re
doing?” He pushed Nathan back.

“Stay away from her, you hear
me, stay away.”

“What? I don't know what you're
talking about. Let's go inside.”

Nathan could feel his body
shaking. His hands clenched in tandem with his jaw. “Rachel’s been
hurt enough. I won't let that happen again.”

The rain was pelting against
them. They stood like two alpha males fighting over a scrap of
meat. Nobody else is around, Nathan realised. He could get rid of
this problem right now if he chose to. He blinked his eyes.

“Deputy, are you drunk?”

He ignored the question. “I
know your secret. Don't care if you know mine. I never liked you.
If it hadn't been for Pa forcing me, I never would’ve put up with
your condescending looks and textbook diagnosis. I didn't need you.
And neither does Rachel.”

He swung a wild fist in an arc
towards David’s head. It missed by miles, as he stumbled, but
managed to stay on his feet.

David bore down on him, causing
him to fall in a puddle. “Nathan, you stupid idiot. What the hell
do you think you're doing?” He took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. He was soaked through. “You’re drunk. Go home.” He turned
back to his car.

Nathan dragged himself up. “You
won't hurt her.” The image of the shotgun on the back seat of his
squad car flew straight to the forefront of his mind. No, he
thought. He was drunk. But not that drunk.

“Go home, Nathan,” David
shouted over his shoulder, as he got into his car.

Deputy Sheriff Nathan Ross
stood in the middle of the road, as the doctor drove off. It was
hard to tell whether the moisture on his cheeks was pelting rain,
or tears. He had failed again. He only hoped this time the
consequences wouldn’t be as dire as before.

***

“Rach, do you really think you
should be going?”

It was the fifth time Becky had
asked her that question in the last hour. It was beginning to grate
on Rachel’s nerves. She wasn’t going to explain again.

Clothes were strewn all over
the tiny room. She hadn’t expected to be in town this long, so
hadn’t packed the appropriate date wear. Not that she was going on
a date, she reminded herself. Her stomach did another flip.

“You don’t even know the
guy,”

Rachel turned away from the
mirror to look at her friend sitting cross-legged on the bed,
hugging a floral pillow. It was nice that she cared, but Rachel
needed to do this. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure he’s a really nice
guy. I just think it’s unprofessional to be going on a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Then why are you getting all
dressed up?” Becky asked, raising an eyebrow.

It was a good question. Rachel
had no idea why she was going through all this for a casual dinner.
Date?

“Okay, so maybe it is. Is that
a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. You tell
me.”

For the first time since lunch,
she felt that same oppressive cloud sweep over her. A flash of
lightening filtered through the closed curtains. She could feel
something wasn’t right. She turned back to the mirror. It was just
nerves, she thought, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She
stared hard at her image in the cracked surface. It would probably
be best if she walked down the corridor and told David it was a bad
idea. He would understand.