The Maestro (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 3) (18 page)

BOOK: The Maestro (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 3)
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“But hey, Let’s go back to the prom queen and her stud. When they finally escape the prom, what do they do? Where could they possibly go? Do they get in a car and take off? No. The nimrods remain on foot and boy genius gets an idea. He pulls her to the local graveyard because there is a mausoleum there or they could hide behind the tombstones.”Adam sighed and turned to Delilah. “I fear for the youth of our times.”

She turned her head to look at her Father, who had his hand over his mouth, restraining bold laughter.

Adam continued, “I’m supposing in their misguided minds, they think that once the evil entities are done at the high school they are going to be so satiated that they won’t bother trying to wipe out the rest of the town. They are just going to laze around rubbing their bloated bellies.

“As the two wonder teens race through the graveyard, the prom queen is lamenting over her new gown because it has blood spatters all over it. The boy hero takes off his shirt and tries to blot the stains. You’re probably wondering if she’s still wearing her crown. Come on, of course she is!” Adam’s hand slapped the steering wheel. “This is where I stop speaking about this particular cinematic wonder because I am just too confounded, Boss.”

He shrugged his shoulders and added, “But, hey, why stop there? How about I go into some mythical evil being or gigantic beast terrorizing an entire town. Same premise, so why go there. The people scatter, hide in basements, try to shoot the thing, same results.”

He glanced to his side and said, “Zombies have been done to death.” He chuckled and asked Delilah, “Get it?” She giggled and urged him to continue.

“If the horror movie happens to be about snakes, large and small, the solution is easy, behead them with a sword, skin them, and pop those puppies on the grill. I hear it tastes like chicken. If you have particular taste buds, then make a nice sauce to drizzle over the grilled meat.” He temporarily raised his hands in mocked fear, “Ah, I have wandered into the genre of culinary arts, which leads us into the scope of cannibals!”

Delilah falsely gasped and feigned fear as Maurice began chuckling in the back seat. This only fueled Adam to continue, “Where zombies only want brains or mushy innards, this particular group is willing to eat the entire body. For some strange reason they always live in the forests or some mountain range. I have no idea why because Hannibal Lector would find the idea of living there in bad taste.

“If you’re dealing with someone like Hannibal, be polite, courteous and have a great love for the arts. He might leave you alone, however these mountain folk are fucking nuts and won’t care if you just listened to Beethoven’s fifth symphony, or if you make the best souffle this side of heaven. So don’t run willy-nilly all around the mountain range or forest, just gun up and kill them, because It’s survival of the fittest, unless you’re a teen, then you have to die because, after all, that’s what horror flicks are all about. Just ask the stupid prom queen, she’s sobbing in the middle of the graveyard right now, because her stud muffin boyfriend just got killed and without his guidance she doesn’t know what to do. Hey, at least she’s still wearing her crown.”

Adam shrugged and continued driving as the car bust out in laughter. Adam chuckled along and said, “I’m sorry, Boss. I just had to get that off my chest, because I don’t understand the attraction. I mean, not all horror movies suck, not by a long shot, but I just needed to ventilate.”

Maurice momentarily stifled his laughter and replied, “It’s perfectly fine, Adam. We enjoyed it.”

“So, what do I get little Liam?”

Delilah answered. “Get him the old
Scooby Doo
series, because those have all the things in it you mentioned at our meal. I checked the movie collection at their house, and he doesn’t have those yet.”

Adam smiled and nodded. He checked the rearview mirror and noticed that Maurice was thinking; his fingers were dancing on the armrest. He asked, “What’s the first order of business when we get home, boss?”

Maurice wore a sly grin as he replied, “We purchase the grandest of Great Danes for security purposes, of course.”

Adam groaned as Delilah and Maurice began laughing again.

“Boss, could you just start telling me rhymes instead of talking about the dog?”

“Of course, Adam.” He then went on to tell the tale of “Ring Around the Rosie,” elaborated, and stunned Adam to the point where he was hunched over the steering wheel. He smoothly transitioned to “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” and hesitated at the end. Delilah began shaking, and Adam began laughing before Maurice could even say, “I have it on good authority that her garden grew very well. Actually, her garden grew so well that there was not one chastity belt in the countryside that would fit her engorged nether regions.”

EPILOGUE

 

Once the laughter had settled down in the car, Maurice glanced at a man driving an older model Trans Am alongside of them. His lips curled in distaste as he noticed the man had an abundance of pine tree air fresheners dangling from his rearview mirror. He commented, “Obviously the man driving to our right had a brilliant idea, Adam.”

Adam glanced quickly at the car.

“He wanted the interior of his car to smell like a pine forest. So, on his way through checkout at his local store, he brilliantly purchased a pine-scented cardboard air freshener in the shape of a tree.”

Adam glanced at Delilah to see her staring curiously out her window at the vehicle in question. He smiled and continued listening to Maurice. They both knew Maurice loved to make up stories about strangers and listened as he rambled on.

“I say, congratulations to the man! His car now smells terrific! Good for him. However, he doesn’t stop there. Once the scent wears off and he can no longer smell the wondrous forest, he purchases another. Did he throw the prior one out? No. He could not part with it at this point. It brought him so much joy! So, he added the new to the old. This obsession continued until he now has a bevy of them hanging from his rearview mirror. Obviously at this point, it has become evident that he, the dear man driving beside us, is trying to cover up either the scent of a decaying corpse in the trunk of his car, or he suffers from a severe glandular disorder to the point where his own body excretions have become offensive to his olfactory senses. I’m betting on the prior because I have a mind that tends toward the dark side.

“I’m also betting the body in the trunk is that of a frail woman, who would not date him because he likes to use far too much hair gel, so much so that his noggin now resembles an oil slick. However, did he ever stop to think that the same store that sells those dandy air fresheners also sells bags of lime, a shovel, and a tarp? I’m surmising he’s lazy on top of everything else.

“I’ll also wager he never saw the movie
Seven
either. There is a rather nasty scene in it that features those funky little air fresheners. I guarantee that it will make him think twice before purchasing another one. The movie stars the handsome Brad Pitt, who, by the way, never uses too much hair gel. He uses just enough.

“Next time he envisions those enticing little pine-scented wonders, he should walk away! Not only are they a mental health hazard, but a driving hazard. Do not tell me that the dozen or so he has hanging up does not obscure his vision of the road! He should just clean his car routinely; it’s that simple. If he has an odoriferous glandular problem, he should see his doctor so that passersby, like us don’t assume he’s a homicidal maniac. Oh, and for the love of all that is holy, I wish he would just bury the body that’s obviously in his trunk.” Maurice sat back and sighed. “He’d make a lousy hit man.”

Adam grinned and asked, “Should I force him to pull over, boss? I’ve been watching that car follow us since we left Cold Hollow.”

Maurice displayed a menacing grin as he spoke. “Yes, please do before the imbecile driving that antiquated vehicle has the opportunity to purchase one more of those hideous decorations. I pledge to you it will drive me to madness if I don’t confirm my suspicions of the man.”

“You got it, boss.” Adam laid on the horn and began forcing the man off the highway toward the breakdown lane. The driver of the car gave Delilah a quizzical look, and she pointed to the side of the road, urging him to oblige. Adam continued to move in closer to the vehicle and force it to the right. Adam wasn’t happy with the distance he pulled over and nearly forced him down an incline by the side of the road. When Adam was content, he put the vehicle in park, pulled his side arm, and said, “Glove up, folks.”

Maurice slid his hands into his tight leather gloves as Delilah fished around the glove compartment for hers. Adam had his on and opened the driver’s-side door and began approaching the man in the vehicle. Delilah and Maurice got out as well and rounded the man’s car. Adam tapped on the driver’s-side window with the butt of his handgun.

The driver’s eyes grew wide, and he scurried inside his car, put it in park, and cut the engine. Adam wagged the gun at him and indicated he wanted him out of the vehicle. He spoke through the glass: “Pop the trunk first.”

Delilah and Maurice stood at the rear of the vehicle by the trunk, waiting. They surveyed traffic, which was surprisingly light. Maurice assumed it was because people had already gotten to their destinations and were winding down at home after a hard day’s work. When the man opened the car door and pushed a button to open the trunk, Adam grabbed him and stood behind him with his handgun jammed into his back. He rumbled, “You say one thing out of line, and you’re a goner, pal.” He could feel the greasy-haired man shaking within his strong grasp.

Maurice delicately lifted the hood of the trunk and peered inside. His head turned to Delilah as he bent over, inspecting the contents. “Do you recognize this woman from town?”

Delilah leaned down, reached out, and turned the woman’s head toward her for a better look. She answered, “That’s the dead-eyed waitress from the tavern. She didn’t even offer me any condiments, the bitch.”

She straightened her posture and stood beside Maurice as he slowly closed the trunk and stood with his gloved hand atop it. His fingers thrummed as his head tilted to one side, and he eyed the man Adam held captive. He sighed and said, “I fear the town of Cold Hollow is in dire need of some help, Adam.”

 

THE END

 

Excerpt from Book Four of the Cold Hollow Mysteries

 

“So, Timmy Two Toes, Vinny the Vulture, and me do our usual runs and pick up the cuts for our boss up in Jersey. Now, I warned Vinny to check Ricky the Rat for wires, but did he? No. So, we go to the kitchen in the basement, which any decent Italian knows is where the best cooking takes place, and we’re overcome by the aroma of clams casino and pasta primavera. The son of a bitch Ricky was a great chef and offered us a free meal with fresh Italian bread. Hey, who were we to decline such an offer? It would have been considered an insult to do so. So after the meal, I ask, “You got your cut for the boss?”

He says, “What cut?”

I say, “What cut do you think I’m talking about? The way you cut your fucking bread? The way you cut your fucking hair? How about you cut the shit. Do I look like an idiot, you stinking rat?”

He says, “No, but your friends here do.” The rotten bastard had two meat cleavers taped under the table, he pulls them out, and slams one into Timmy’s mouth sideways making him look like the god damn Joker from the movies. You know which one I mean, Boss?”

Maurice grinned and replied, “Yes, I do, Adam.”

“Anyways then he plants one in Vinny’s face lengthwise right between the eyes. The moron went cross-eyed as he watched the blood drip down his face.”

Maurice’s inquired, “Adam, what did you do?”

“I pulled my sidearm, shot the son of a bitch in the forehead, and found my bosses cut in an envelope he hid in his apron. I also yanked the wires from the Rat’s chest. Then I wiped off my gun and put it in Vinny’s dead hand. The strangest thing happened. I look over at Timmy Two Toes and see his eyes moving and he’s watching me! He was still alive! Imagine my shock. So, I help him out of his chair, he’s gurgling, and I had a feeling he wanted me to pull the cleaver out of his mouth, but I figured I’d do more damage. So I rush him to the car, tell him to stop gurgling like a baby, and drove like a maniac to the emergency room. They took him right in when I told them the idiot was working in his kitchen at home, drank too much wine, and fell on a cleaver. Then I got the hell out of there.”

Delilah asked, “What did your boss do to you?”

“I called him and he understood Vinny the Vultures obvious fucking blunder and let me keep his cut so I could leave the state and lay low for a while.”

Maurice was curious and asked, “Are you safe to return now if you wanted to?”

Adam nodded. “Sure, but this happened a few years back and my old boss is dead and gone now. His son took over. It ain’t the same as it was back then. I’m happy right where I am, Boss.”

Delilah grinned. “That’s a good story, Adam, but it doesn’t explain how you and father first met.”

“Oh, well it’s a long story.”

Maurice smiled. “But not without its merits, Adam.”

Adam smirked. “Oh, it’s loaded with merits.”

Delilah squirmed in her seat. “So tell me! I’ve never heard the story before.”

Adam checked the rearview mirror to see Maurice sitting there smiling. The Gillette family were driving home to Durham after spending two weeks in New England to attend Maurice Gillette’s son’s nuptials. After disposing of two corpses and a late model Trans Am, Maurice had tired of reciting nursery rhymes, so Delilah asked Adam to tell some stories of his life in New England to fill in the time.

Maurice said, “That would be a fine tale for you to tell as we drive home. However, I’d like to know something. If we each had nicknames, what do you think they would be?”

“That’s easy, Boss. They would be Deadly Delilah, The Maestro, and I’m Adam the Apple.”

“What? Why Adam the Apple? Is it a biblical reference?”

Adam shook his head as he drove. “As you know, Italians are highly religious, Boss. My nickname wasn’t so much about Adam and Eve, as it was about the fact I liked to stuff an apple into the mouth of my victims like roasted pigs. I noticed you prefer red roses.”

“And what do you think of that?”

“I think it’s symbolism, Boss, pure and simple symbolism.”

“But a single red rose means love, Adam. What do you suppose that says about me?”

“Shit, Boss. I would never even venture a guess, but if I did, I guess it means you’re in love with death.”

Maurice’s lips twitched. “Adam, you’re more astute than I give you credit for. Now, let me ask you this. If you ever cried out for help to your old family, would they heed your call?”

“In a heartbeat. My uncle Lou is a made man in New York. They can’t refuse.”

Maurice sat back relaxed, and smiled. “Excellent.” After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “Now, you may proceed to tell Delilah the story of how we met.” He leaned forward and poked Delilah’s arm. “Get comfortable darling, because it’s a long story.”

He watched Delilah stretch, switch her position in her seat to a more comfortable one, and poke Adam’s arm. “Chop Chop, Adam. I was away at college when you two met. Eager ears want to hear the story I’ve been denied for far too long.”

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