Flamethrower (18 page)

“Yeah,” the man said, eyeing the card as if he expected it to be declined.

Ruby wondered if she looked that disreputable. More likely she had the aura of a city dweller, and in a lot of people’s minds, living in cities indicated criminal inclinations.

After running Ruby’s card through the machine, the old man turned around to gaze at the room keys dangling from hooks on the peeling green wall. He eyeballed Ruby once more before settling on the key to room number seven.

“You’re not Joe Murphy’s wife are you?” the man asked.

“Not that I know of, no.” Ruby couldn’t resist having a little fun.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the old guy barked.

“I don’t know any Joe Murphy, and I’m not married,” Ruby said.

This seemed to placate the old geezer.

“Checkout’s at eleven,” he told her.

“I’ll be out long before then,” Ruby promised, noticing flecks of spittle near the man’s thin, bluish lips. “Have a lovely night,” she added.

Ruby drove over to the parking spot in front of room seven, locked the car, and walked the few steps to her room. She was about to fit her key in the door when she saw a caramel-colored dog lying in the grass a few feet from her room door. When Ruby looked at him, the dog looked her right in the eye and started thumping his tail. He was a puppy with feet nearly as big as the rest of him. Ruby squatted down and extended one hand, palm up. The puppy ran over, licked her hand, and started wiggling so violently Ruby thought he might break. It was a he. No more than a few months old, maybe thirty pounds, with a black muzzle and a flashy splash of white on his chest.

“Hello,” Ruby said, smiling at the dog. She remembered reading that dogs had been domesticated so long they understood human body language better than humans did. The puppy interpreted Ruby’s smile as a good thing and tried to lick her face.

Ruby looked around, expecting to see the puppy’s people somewhere, but there wasn’t a soul in sight, nor were any lights showing in the windows of the other rooms. Ruby didn’t know what to do, so she opened the door to her room. The puppy rushed in and jumped onto the bed. She sat down next to him and let him lick her cheek. She realized that she was one step away from taking the puppy home with her to Brooklyn and that she should make sure the dog didn’t belong to some forlorn child who was home weeping her eyes out.

“Make yourself at home. I’m going to make inquiries,” Ruby told the young dog. He tilted his head and wrinkled his brow.

As Ruby walked to the door, the puppy jumped off the bed and followed her.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” she said. The puppy had glued himself to her though, and when she opened the door, he went out. Ruby scooped him into her arms and held him as she walked to the motel office.

The old man was asleep again. Feet propped up on the desk. Ruby stood there, with the puppy in her arms, staring down at the old geezer. She was tempted to play some sort of prank on him. Tie his shoelaces together, put his hand in a bucket of hot water, something. The old guy must have felt her mischief. He opened his eyes and sat up.

“Huh?” He started blinking wildly.

“Whose puppy is this?” Ruby asked.

She watched the old guy fumble for a pair of bifocals.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“This puppy was in your parking lot.” So?

“You know this puppy?” Ruby looked down at the dog in her arms. He licked her chin. He was getting heavy, and Ruby rearranged him in her arms.

“That’s Spike,” the old man said, as if it were obvious.

“He’s yours?” Ruby asked, resolving to rescue Spike from a life where he was left to his own devices in a parking lot at night.

“Ain’t nobody’s. Just turned up here a few weeks back. I feed him. Figure he’ll be a good guard dog.”

Unless he was going to ward off marauders by wagging his
tail and licking their hands, Spike wouldn’t make much of a guard dog.

“I need a dog,” Ruby announced. She figured it was going to cost her, but she didn’t care. The old guy stared at her without saying anything, then shrugged.

“Well, you got one,” he said.

Ruby was ready for an argument and was stunned not to get one.

“Seems to like you,” the old man shrugged, “and I don’t guess he’d make such a good guard dog, what with licking people like he does.”

Ruby saw a flicker of tenderness come into the old man. It was as touching as it was unexpected. The old man got to his feet, opened a gray steel cabinet, and pulled out a bag of kibble.

“Here.” He proffered the bag. “He’ll be wanting breakfast in the morning.”

Ruby put Spike down on the floor and took the bag.

“Thank you,” she said, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What are you gonna name him?” the old man asked.

“Nothing wrong with Spike,” Ruby said.

The old man beamed. “He’s gonna be a big one, you know,” the old guy said, reaching down and grabbing one of Spike’s paws. “Hundred pounds or so. Looks like he’s got some Rhodesian ridgeback in him and maybe some Great Dane too.”

Ruby nodded. Spike looked nothing like a Great Dane, but the last thing she wanted was to argue with the old guy.

“Well.” Ruby wanted to get back to her room before the
old man reverted to his earlier crankiness. “Good night,” she said, turning and walking out of the office.

Spike happily trotted next to Ruby, and when she opened the door, he jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball. Ruby had no idea if Spike was house-trained but figured she’d find out soon enough.

She stripped off her clothing and got under the covers without even brushing her teeth. She looked at Spike one more time before closing her eyes. He lifted his head and thumped his tail. She closed her eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

I
t took Ruby a few minutes to remember where she was and why there was a dog in the bed. She stumbled into the bathroom to pee, and Spike followed, tilting his head, trying to figure out what she was doing.

Ruby brushed her teeth, threw water on her face, and let Spike out onto the grassy area in front of her room. The pup spun around in a few tight circles and immediately took care of business.

Ten minutes later, Ruby had repacked her overnight bag and was ready to go. She put Spike in the backseat of the Mustang, but as soon as she pulled out of the parking space, the dog scrambled into the front and settled into the passenger seat, maintaining eye contact with Ruby as he did, making a statement.

“Okay, fair enough,” Ruby said.

Spike tilted his head.

Ruby made a right out of the motel driveway, heading for the town of Trout Falls, where she hoped to find a diner. She needed coffee, and Spike needed food since she wasn’t about to feed him the by-product-infested kibble the old man had given her.

Main Street, Trout Falls, was lined with wood-frame houses
that looked as though they’d been built in the 1940s. Humble houses with plastic furniture and swing sets on front lawns. The town consisted of a decrepit five-and-dime, a gas station, a police station, and The Main Diner, a 1950s-looking silver diner. The parking lot was almost full. Either the place was good or, more likely, it was the only diner in town.

Spike tried to jump out when Ruby opened the car door, but she gently pushed him back and told him to stay. She wasn’t sure he understood the specific command, but he got the general idea and settled back into the passenger seat after giving her a wounded look.

Either Ruby looked like shit, or Trout Falls was such a small town that residents weren’t used to strangers coming into the diner. Everyone stared. As much as she sometimes loathed New York, Ruby liked the anonymity it conferred. This small-town stuff was nerve-racking.

She walked up to the counter to put in an order to go.

“What do you need, sugar?” asked a wrinkly peroxide-blond waitress who looked like a cigarette.

Ruby liked that the woman called her “sugar.”

“Large coffee, scrambled eggs on a roll, and two burgers very rare with no buns.”

“Coming right up, doll,” the waitress said, as if perfectly used to people ordering two rare burgers with their morning egg sandwich.

Ruby settled onto one of the stools at the counter. To her left was a big man in a John Deere cap hunched over a plate of sausage and eggs. He didn’t look at her, but Ruby sensed that he was aware of her. To Ruby’s right was a small man nervously
pushing his eggs around on his plate. He was also wearing a John Deere cap, the brim of which was pulled down to his nose, making Ruby wonder how he could see the cup of coffee in front of him.

“Food’s ready, sugar,” the waitress said after a short wait.

“Where’s the nearest pet store?” Ruby asked the waitress when she handed Ruby her order. “I need to get my dog a collar.”

“What kind of dog?” the waitress asked, getting that beatific animal-lover look on her face.

“Puppy. Mutt probably. Rhodesian ridgeback looking.”

“You mean Spike from the motel?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, astonished.

“I tried getting that old grouch to give the dog to my niece, but he wouldn’t. Musta liked you.”

“Really?” Ruby was incredulous. If the old guy’s treatment of her was from liking, she hated to think how he acted when he
disliked
someone.

“You got a nice face, sugar. I’m sure people like you,” said the waitress.

Ruby smiled. She’d beg to differ, but she didn’t want to be rude.

“There’s a Pet Mart about a mile down the road, little strip mall there. You can get everything you need. Here you go.” She handed Ruby her bag of food. “Pay at the counter.”

Ruby went to the counter and, as the cashier rang up her bill, helped herself to some after-dinner mints from the big bowl next to the cash register.

“Have a nice day,” the cashier said.

Ruby went back to the car, broke the burgers into small pieces, and fed Spike in the take-out container. The puppy ate the burger bits in four mouthfuls then looked at Ruby as though he was ready for seconds.

“Later,” said Ruby. Spike spun around in a circle then plopped down in the passenger seat.

Ruby made a right onto Main Street and, after a mile, found the pet store. She carried Spike in with her since she didn’t want him trotting loose through the parking lot.

“Cute!” exclaimed a girl at the counter inside. She was a tiny Goth-looking girl with dyed black hair. Ruby hadn’t realized Goth girls existed in places like Trout Falls.

The Goth girl, who immediately told Ruby she was a vegan and didn’t believe in leather dog collars, helped Ruby select an attractive red nylon collar with a matching lead.

“You live around here?” the girl asked as Ruby paid for her purchases.

“No, just visiting.”

“Why?”

Ruby laughed. “It’s pretty around here.”

The girl wrinkled her nose.

After putting Spike’s new lead and collar on, Ruby walked the dog around the grassy fringe of the pet store parking lot. He sniffed a lot and peed a little before jumping back into the car.

Ruby pored over her various MapQuest printouts, running her finger along the route to Jody’s house. Her stomach was in knots at the prospect of finding and confronting The Psychiatrist. Ruby had spent most of her life avoiding confrontations.
She’d almost never fought with her parents, sister, or lovers. If there was friction, Ruby left. Even as a small child, when Ruby’s parents had been upset with her or tried to make her do something she didn’t want to do, she’d disappear, losing herself in the streets of Sunset Park as early as age five. Ruby’s flight response had become a sore point with Ed. Rather than telling him when something was bothering her, she’d clam up or, in extreme situations, leave the apartment without a word. Ed hated this. Ruby had been trying to reform her ways— until Ed flipped out and started needing
space
, that is.

Ruby steered the Mustang out of the parking lot. Another five miles and she’d be looking for Maddox Road, where Jody’s cabin was. Along the sides of the road, frame houses gave way to meadows and woods. There were fenced-in pastures where horses and cattle grazed.

The meadows hugging the sides of the road surrendered to dense trees, and Ruby slowed down. She found Maddox Road on her left and made the turn. It was a narrow two-lane road badly in need of paving. The trees grew denser and the sky was nearly shut out. The road rolled up and down several hills before Ruby saw what she hoped was Jody’s driveway on her right. There weren’t names or numbers on either of the mailboxes, but Ruby had gone the one point six miles Map-Quest wanted her to go. She slowly nosed the Mustang up the unpaved driveway. Spike started looking all around, sensing that they were arriving somewhere. After half a mile, Ruby saw a bright blue house on the left. An enormous woman in a pink housedress was sitting in a rocker on the front porch.

Ruby stopped the car and leaned out the window.

“Hi, I’m looking for Jody?” Ruby tried to sound cheerful.

The woman fanned herself with a magazine and squinted at Ruby. “She ain’t here,” she said.

“This is her house though?” Ruby asked, wondering if the large woman was a patient that Jody had, for mysterious reasons, brought along for the ride.

“Nah, next one down. Little white house. Like I said though, she ain’t there. Saw her and that boy driving out a few nights ago, and they ain’t been back.”

“I guess I’ll go on over to her house just to check.”

“I may be fat, but I ain’t blind,” the woman said. “Jody ain’t there.”

“Thanks,” Ruby said. “I just want to see the house. Maybe leave her a note.”

The woman shrugged and rested her head on the back of her chair.

Ruby drove forward and, about a hundred yards down the road, came to the little white house. She got out, and Spike bounded out of the car and raced ahead into the shrubs surrounding the house.

“Spike!” Ruby panicked, imagining the dog disappearing into the forest and getting devoured by bears.

Spike emerged from the bushes, shook himself off, and looked at Ruby as though she was insane.

“Don’t run off like that,” she said. He tilted his head. “Stop being cute,” she added.