Stalker

Glenda shrunk down behind the steering wheel as Keith walked past. The parking lot was dark but she still worried he might spot her. She remembered "The Hoove" from work - an arrogant, obnoxious piece of crud intent on building himself up by tearing those around him down. She was glad when he stopped showing up for work. She was even gladder when she heard that he'd run off with Brandi, that little tramp that had attached herself to Rusty.

She wondered how Keith had gotten into Rusty's truck without her noticing. She must have nodded off at some point during the three hours she'd been waiting in the lot. Rusty didn't usually spend so much time in The Ruby. She'd been following him much more intensely since the diner incident, trying to summon the courage to approach him again. In that time she'd gotten to know his routine a little. He'll go home now, she thought, unless this meeting with Keith has altered his plans. She watched Keith getting into a tricked out red Ford Fiesta, his smugness apparent even in the dim light. She heard Rusty's truck and watched as he eased out of the lot. As he passed under the lone light pole she could see his worried face. Glenda felt a pang of anguish. Rusty was such a sweet soul. He was probably terrified to find that pig Keith in his truck. She felt the anguish turn to hatred.

Glenda took a deep breath and started her car. Clinching the steering wheel, she eased out onto the highway, keeping a little distance between herself and the red Fiesta.

Backseat Driver

Rusty stomped out of The Ruby at 1 AM. Maybe he'd stayed at The Ruby too late, he thought. He had wanted to clear his head. It hadn't worked. He had been putting in a lot of work on the case, but was getting nowhere.

The air outside was cold. A group of banished smokers stood, huddled together near the entrance of the building. As he pushed through them, his lungs filled with cold, musty, secondhand smoke. Disgusting, he thought. He was going to quit.

The parking lot was still pretty full of cars. Rusty put his head down and walked to the far perimeter of the lot. "You wouldn't have to park so far away if you had a smaller vehicle", he thought as he set eyes on the big blue truck. The door opened with a loud creak and Rusty climbed in to the cab. He blew his breath into his hands for a few seconds and fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He lit his second to last cigarette and took a long drag.

Before he could exhale, a voice said, "Well, you found me."

Rusty turned around and saw Keith Hoover sitting in the backseat of his truck. He coughed out a cloud of smoke.

"What, exactly, do you want? Because I can't think of any business the two of us have. None. What. So. Ever. And I’m real busy lately, Russ." Hoove sat with his hands in the pockets of his long, grey, wool coat. His grey eyes fixed on Rusty.

Rusty sucked in some air and persuaded his body to stop coughing.

"Where's my wife? Where’s my money? That's all I want." Rusty hoped his voice wasn't shaking.

"Brandi? This about her?" Hoove took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his face.

"You took her, and she had my money." Rusty felt an encouraging burst of adrenaline seep into his bloodstream.

Hoove leaned forward.

"How much money? All your money?"

"Not that much.....just my cigarette money, really...." Rusty felt his voice trailing off, so he added, "But that's not the point!"

Hoove smiled. Rusty couldn't help but notice how straight and white his teeth were. Rusty almost felt an urge to smile back.

"Russ, Brandi was an annoying nag." He reached forward and grabbed Rusty's cigarettes. Examining them, he said, "I would not 'take' her for anyone's cigarette money--let alone someone who smokes generics. Be glad that you're free now. Let it go."

Hoove lit Rusty's final cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

"But you both--"

"Don't look for me anymore. I'm leaving town. Tonight. Write this last part down in your little yellow notebook: If you don’t stop looking for me, somebody's gonna have to start looking for you."

Hoove patted at his coat pockets and finally pulled out two large padded envelopes. He handed one of them to Rusty. It said 'DREW' on the outside. Rusty slid a quick glance at the other envelope.

"Tell Drew it’s all I have for him." Hoove said. He looked out the window for a second, and then added, "Make sure he knows I'm gone. For good."

The door slammed shut and Rusty watched Hoove fade into the night. Then he grabbed the yellow notebook and recorded everything he could remember from their conversation. The last line he wrote said: 'envelope, Carole?'

Easy Money

Once again Rusty's mind went back to the scene at the diner. What was he thinking! In the light of day the idea of searching for Brandi and the Hoove had lost some of its appeal. How the heck do I get myself into these things? It was a question Rusty had often asked himself over the years. There was the time at the bar when he'd talked to the rodeo circuit rider, next thing he knew he was sitting on a bronco ready for the chute to open. It sounded like easy money when cowboy Buck had described it. “You only have to stay on for 7 seconds and you're in the money!” Some money! His tailbone still hurt on rainy days. How about the time the student lab tech had lured him into the experimental study.”They pay good money and all you have to do is show up once a week for a small injection.” Yeah that was great! Especially if you end up smelling like a lilac for the rest of your life. It could have been worse, he'd heard horror stories about some of the other studies!

Rusty opened his new spiral notebook. A good detective has to write things down. As he stared at the blank page he tried to think of things he might need to write down. HOOVE: Where is he?

Satisfied he closed the notebook and picked up the phone.

Glenda

Glenda sighed and settled into an empty booth. It had taken all her energy and nerve to enter the diner. This was to be the night. After weeks of shadowing Rusty around the plant, tonight she was going to tell him how she felt. Following him had been easy - his truck was loud and smelly, just the opposite of its driver. Rusty smelled nice, too nice, some would say. The guys at the plant thought it odd that Rusty chose floral scents instead of Old Spice or Brut but Glenda liked it. It reminded her of her grandma.

She wasn't even sure he knew she existed. They worked the same shift but different lines. But when she entered the diner he had looked at her expectantly. Perhaps, just perhaps he felt something too. Glenda smiled to herself at the possibility. If only things had worked out! She was so close. Their eyes had met, she was sure she did not imagine it. Just a few steps and they would have been sitting together. Just a few steps. She'd only taken one when that kid brushed past, almost knocking her over. It was enough to shake her nerve and freeze her approach.

Rusty and the boy hadn't spoken for long. Unsure of what to do, she'd stood there like a big idiot. She was too far away to hear the conversation but they didn't act like they knew each other well. She'd hoped that maybe Rusty would send the boy away. Instead, it was Rusty who got up abruptly and left, passing within inches of her without a word, imparting only the scent of fresh lilac.

God, she loved that man.

Good Vibrations

It was 8PM and the dinner rush was at it's height when Penelope felt her pocket vibrate.  She was too busy to answer and besides, Gary didn't like his "girls" using cell phones at work.  He called it classless.  As if a guy with a voice like Turman Capote and a face like Andre the giant who owned only two shirts was a good compass of classlessness.  Well, actually he was, but not in a good way.

Penelope finally got a break around 10:30 and checked her messages.  Holy crap!  She had a message from that job posting she applied to three weeks ago!  Her mind raced: what to wear, how early to arrive, did she have the correct footwear to exude confidence yet humility?  She definitely had the outfit pressed and ready.  Right after graduation from City College her mother had driven her to Macy's and bought her an official interview suit as a graduation gift.  Oh what hopes she'd had that day three years ago.  She expected to be driving a BMW by now.  Not hustling beet surprise in a greasy spoon on the wrong side of town.  The only thing missing was the perfect blouse.  She knew where to find it too - - - in her room mate's closet. The problem was she couldn't just ask to borrow it, it had to seem like Carol's idea and that wasn't easy.  If Carol sensed a favor coming she tended to become purposely obtuse and clueless.  God forbid Penelope get the job and be indebted to her for life!  She came up with a plan, she'd pick up a 6-pack on the way home and gently guide the conversation towards the interview and the outfit and hope that Carol offered up the blouse on her own after a few beers...better make it a 12-pack.

She spent the rest of the evening dreaming of the day she could tell Gary to shove it and walk out of this hell hole.  She'd never come back. Not even for coffee.

The detective

As Rusty walked to his truck he thought over the events of the last few hours. What have I gotten myself into? The truth was Rusty wasn't that eager to find his wife.Sure he lost all his money but in some ways it had been worth it. If he had to be honest, it really wasn't that much money. Just what was left after the bills were paid for the month. Cigarette and beer money. The house was quiet without Brandi around. No “Rusty do this” or “why did you do that.” Brandi really knew how to bust his chops. However he wouldn't mind finding the “ hoove” as everyone at the factory called Keith. He was constantly sucking up to people. It was ridiculous. What some people wouldn't do! He wouldn't mind teaching him a thing or two! As Rusty climbed into his truck he thought again about Drew. What an intense kid! It would be kind of fun to be a detective. He had always thought of himself as having an inquisitive mind. If he hadn't landed the factory job he most likely would have been an investigator or something of the sort. As Rusty started his truck, for the first time in a long time he was looking forward to the week ahead.

ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

The brass bell above the door rang as Drew entered the diner. He had never met Rusty, but among the old men in their John Deere hats he wore his anemic build and greasy hair like a name tag. The two men, men being used loosely as Drew looked decidedly childish with his pallid frame and two sizes too big jacket, met eyes and Drew made his way to the table stumbling over his words.

“I uh, I didn’t think you’d come”

“Who the heck are you? What do you want kid?”

“I’m uh Drew, Drew Davies”

“And?”

“And you know my dad, you work with him, Keith Hoover”

“Look kid, I knew your dad. I haven’t seen him in months and if I do its’ gonna be ugly. He took my wife and all my money and ran off to who knows where”

Drew’s heart sank for a moment as he saw his hopes of finding his father vanish. Then he realized he just met someone who had as much a stake in finding his father as he did.

“Well don’t you want to find him?”

“Yea kid I do but I don’t even know where to start?”

“Well what if we work together, I mean I found you right?”

“Don’t you have school, or something?”

“Don’t worry about me old man, yes or know?”

“What’s your plan kid? Do you even know what you’ll do if you find him?”

“I don’t know I uh, I just want to meet him”

This was a lie; Drew knew exactly what he wanted to do when he met his father. After fifteen years trying to make ends meet with his heartbroken mother there was no doubt in Drew’s mind as to what he would do.

“Well I could use money, and I’d love to see the look on my wife’s face when I find them, alright deal”

The new partners shook hands and decided to meet at the diner again in a week.