Complete Novel

The Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match #3

The Loose Strings  The Racketeers
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Chapter 17

Meanwhile….And Then….
by Margot Comstock
  
“I’m going to check the back of the house,” the man from the Audi had said, “They haven't found her at the Manitou and she’s turned off her cell phone…”

Damn straight!, Hayden said to herself, with silent emphasis.

“Steve wants her alive and well,” the man had added.

Yeah, right, Hayden thought; I’ll begin to believe that when any single bit of this nightmare makes sense.

She silently drifted back to the bit of woods and shrubs well behind the house, crouched way down, and watched. It didn’t take long. The man made a try at the back door, failed to find it open and, giving a bit of attention to the windows, made his way toward the front, street, and Audi and out of Hayden’s sight.

She didn’t move. She listened, though, carefully, hoping to hear the Audi engine start up. No luck.

They’re keeping watch. Now what. Any chance I could make it in through one of the back windows? Dumb idea….

Silently she slithered back farther into the small woods. Her mother (if mother she be…) isn’t there.

How about the college? Might Ted be there? Er, does she even really work there? Does she even teach at all?

Hayden made her way through the woods and, well behind the cottage, back up and across the street and into the small business part of town. She found a rent-a-wreck place and chose an ancient Bug the salesperson promised was in decent shape. She drove to an electronics store and bought a cheap, prepaid, throwaway cell phone. Got all I need, she thought. As if!

She gazed at the cottage from her car, well hidden, while she thought about what to do. The cottage seemed a reasonable size for one or two people and it was appealing: Cobalt blue clapboard with white trim around the windows and roof and on the corners, healthy lawn; plant pots waiting for spring on the generous front porch. If only life were normal enough to make something like this possible….

Nah. I love my city, my apartment. Wonder if I’ll ever see it again…Oh shut up! I will!

She started her car and thankfully hadn’t begun to move when she saw the Audi drive by. The side windows were dark but not the windshield; it revealed two people in the front seat.

Were there any more? Had they left someone at the house?

Being in constant danger and experiencing what felt like endless loss seemed to make Hayden brave. Or reckless. She decided to try to enter the house.

She moved the car, but not far; just enough that no one would wonder at it being so long in one place. (I’m definitely getting weird that I even think of such a thing.) She parked on the other side of the cottage and on the next street and walked to the house.

She went to the porch and tried the front door. Not surprisingly, it was locked. She knocked lightly. (It was after all a pretty small cottage.) Nothing. So she walked around to the back. The back door was also locked, but a basement window was not. It evidently had not been opened in years, so it took a bit of work persuading it to open without making noise. But it finally did open, and Hayden, being once more very grateful for squash and being slender, slipped into what she hoped was actually Ted’s house.

She wandered from room to room, and in what seemed to be a retreat attached to the master bedroom there was a baby grand piano. On its top was an array of photographs. There in one prominent spot were several pictures of a woman and a child at various ages. Hayden’s eyes filled with tears as she saw her little self, with her mother. My mother! The photos were of the real Ted. The one Hayden remembered—and a near double for the one Hayden had almost accepted as her mother during this bizarre world into which she’d been plunged in recent months. She had liked that woman; but this was the real thing.

But wait. Could…. Well, she’d have to wait and see who it was that came home tonight.

Meanwhile she had something to take care of. She sought and found an extra key for the front door. She put it  in her pocket, closed up the cottage, and went to her car.

———

After a foray into the Yellow Pages, Hayden drove well and speedily as possible in the fast lane to the nearest seemingly excellent squash courts. She parked, locked her car (as if anyone would want to steal it), and entered the world of squash.

It looked fine. There were a slew of courts (good for Montreal). This was a membership club, but it was nicely open to strangers passing through. Hayden signed up, even using her real name—yup, they required evidence (Hayden wasn’t sure why every place, everybody needed so much private info just to play a game), rented gear, proceeded to the locker room, and upon emerging found a line—well, a reasonable handful—of people ready to play squash with her.

Much of the horror and stress of the last few days, weeks, years—oh alright, only a couple of days!—melted away. Those days had been so intense that Hayden couldn't remember ever feeling so loose and whole before. She played and played, won and won.

She felt magnificent!

She freshened up, had a beer or two or three with some of her new conquests, said copious thanks and good wishes, and left.

She was becoming quite enamored of her new old car when she got back in it and set off for Mont Tremblant and Ted’s house. She was so relaxed that she didn’t even care whether this Ted was her mother or not, or if anyone was.

Her high was pretty well gone by the time she parked a little way from the house on Coupal Street, yet the sense of well-being remained. At least for the moment.

Lights were on in the cottage. A lot of lights. Hmmm. Feeling good didn’t mean she couldn’t be cautious. Hayden traced her steps to her car, transferred her gun from glove box to handbag.

She returned to the house, knocked on the front door. No response. Now on full alert, she put the gun in her pocket, inserted the house key and opened the door.






Margot Comstock is a California artist-crossword creator-game designer-writer who enjoys hanging out with her ancient Viking and cheering on the Los Angeles Lakers.