Gooseland

Thank you to Bebop03 and NoraFares for the invitation to the "50 Ways" event. Thank you to sbrooks103X and Bebop03 for the beta reading and editing. And, weirdly, though she will almost certainly never see it, a special thanks to Miley Cyrus as well... When the invitation came out, I wasn't really feeling it until I stumbled across Cyrus' "Happy Hippie" version of "50 Ways." Her raspy, bluesy version of the song suited me much better than the original.

The Missus had a twisted idea for a character and a storyline that we melded into the challenge. See, this is that Friday night movie you took your date to when you were in High School. There are different kinds of date movies, of course. Rom-coms are popular. So are teen comedies. But there's another genre of movie that's always popular on those Friday nights....

* * * * *

"She's cheating on you, you know."

Missy set my coffee down next to my loaded hash browns, then smoothed her apron while she waited for me to answer.

The sounds of the diner seemed to fade away, I glanced up from my phone and found her huge blue eyes staring at me intently. "How would you even know that?"

She shrugged and wrinkled her elfin nose. "I'd say women's intuition, but really... It just takes one to know one."

There was no sadness or loss in her raspy voice, no wistful tone in her admission of being a cheater. She'd never even really apologized for cheating on me. But there was no malice either. That was probably the most disconcerting thing about it, the thing that really caught my attention. She wasn't trying to sabotage my marriage, wasn't trying to hurt me or even hurt Caroline.

Worse yet, I didn't feel shocked or surprised as she said it. There'd been a feeling, initially more a ghost of a feeling, but now more and more clear, that Caroline's recent business trips had been more than just business.

Missy was just telling the truth as she saw it. "I seen you in here with her, and I can just tell. I know it's none of my business, but I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"Huh." I felt my lip involuntarily twitch in a wry smile.

"I know. I know, kinda hard for me to be in a position to judge, what with me being a ho with the morals of an alley cat." She said it with remarkable cheer.

"I wouldn't say..."

"Yes, you would. You

did

say that. Those were your exact words after you threw Cash out the window." Missy grinned.

Well, that was true, now that I thought about it. I had said that. "I feel bad about that."

"About what you said?" She almost looked offended.

"No, for throwin' Cash out the window like that. I forgot we were on the second floor."

She wiped her forehead in mock relief, pushing back her blonde pixie-cut hair. "Thank goodness. I don't want you pussyin' out on me. Besides what you said was true. Still is. I like cattin' around. I really should have thought about that when you asked me to marry you."

"Damn glad I figured that out before we got married." Missy really wasn't the "marrying kind," but we'd been too young and stupid to figure that out the easy way. Robert "Cash" Monet had been the unfortunate casualty of our discovery. Or rather of my discovery of a man in my bed with my theoretically-exclusive girlfriend. He hadn't even known she had a fiancé, or that she lived with him, so he'd immediately charged me when I came through the door. If we'd have taken a moment to talk, it'd have saved him two broken arms and a broken nose. I'd gotten away with claiming I thought he was assaulting my girlfriend, though I wasn't completely sure whether anyone really believed it or just wanted us all the hell out of their offices.

When cases get a bit too "Jerry Springer," most officials just desperately want it to go away. They get way too much of it and it just isn't funny anymore.

"Me too." She nodded agreeably. "That would have been a disaster. I mean, what if we'd moved to a higher floor? Poor Cash."

I nodded along with her and chuckled at the memory of the wide-eyed shock on Missy's face as we looked out the window together. "Yeah, he didn't really deserve that." Once he had known what was going on, Cash's memory had gotten really fuzzy, much to the annoyance of the prosecutor. Hell, Cash was probably one of my best friends now. It'd been a long time since his brief and ungainly attempt at flight.

She stood silent for a second. "Well, I gotta be getting back to my other customers..."

"Are you sure, Missy?"

She caught the still, dead tone of my voice and looked down at her toes for second. "Yeah. I mean I've got no proof, but yeah. I can feel it. But why would you trust me?"

"You've got nothing to gain by it."

She made a mock-frown. "I guess you do trust me. I'm alone with your food a lot."

"Is that why it always tastes like cinnamon?" I'd teased Missy for years about her fondness for cinnamon gum.

She started to say something flippant and funny, but just stopped and looked at me with sympathy. "You don't seem surprised."

"Something's been off for a while. Even when she'd home...she's just not really there."

"Are you arguing?"

"No. We're not really talking much at all."

"That's worse, you know."

The idea of Missy as a relationship counselor was beyond bizarre, but she'd always been easy to talk to, always good with ideas, even if she didn't listen to her own suggestions most of the time. "She's leaving her wedding rings at home when she travels. I found them in her jewelry box, at least the last two times."

Missy's eyes widened at that, "Well... Damn. That's probably not good."

"That's what I thought."

"You outta ask Cash to look into that, he does that whole detective thing."

"He's an insurance investigator, Missy. He's not a cop."

She pursed her lips. "Pretty much the same thing, even has some kind of PI license. He can do the computer thing. He knows how to look into things, do you?"

"No. Not really." Cash did have access to all kinds of databases, and chasing things down was really what he did. "I'll drop by Cash's today. You might be right."

She gave me a twisted smile. "I usually am. But when I'm wrong, I'm really, really wrong."

*****

Cash looked at me over his desk. "How sure are you?"

"I don't know, it's not like I'm an expert here."

He raised one eyebrow. "I'd think you'd have some ideas. I mean it's not like it's the first time it's happened..."

"Asshole."

"Well, we at least know you've got a pattern. Cluelessness."

"Wow. Glad I'm getting sympathy here."

He chuckled. "Hey, I'm gonna help you all I can, at least it won't be me getting thrown out of a window this time."

"Jesus, how many times I gotta say I'm sorry about that?"

Cash grinned. "I'll let you know when you reach it. Did you get some stuff together like I asked when you called?"

"Here's Caroline's schedule for the last six months, the schedule for the next three months, cell phone bills and all the credit card info." I slid the folder over to him.

"You on all of these?"

"Not her business credit card."

"Probably won't be able to do anything with that one. I don't mind helping you out, but I'm not losing my license over this. Don't worry though, if there's something going on, I'll probably be able to figure it out, most people aren't as clever as they think." He shuffled the papers. "You know this won't fix things, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"And you know it won't matter for shit in divorce court, right?"

"Yeah. I just want to be sure. I'm hoping I'm wrong. I don't want to blow things up without some kind of proof. But the way things are, if I confront her and I'm wrong, I might as well plan on a divorce anyway."

"You think you can fix it?"

"Depends on what's really wrong. If she's done with us, I'm done. Maybe I'm misreading all this and she just has issues she doesn't know how to talk about."

Cash shrugged and I got the feeling he didn't have much hope for me. "Yeah, well, I'll look into it. Give me a few days to work it."

"Seriously, if she's got problems, I want to help her. Maybe it's just work pressure getting to her."

"You've tried to talk this out?"

"She's barely talking to me at all. When I try, she deflects, then suddenly has things to do."

"That's not good sign. How long have things been off like that?"

"I'm not sure, it came on kind of slowly, but at least a year. Maybe it started a year and a half ago."

"Anything happen then?"

"All I can think of is when she wrecked her car on the ice. She picked up Chinese on her way home from work and hit that hill intersection before they had it salted."

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember that. But it wasn't serious, was it?"

I shrugged. "Some body work on the car, and a mild concussion, but insurance got it all. She was a little moody for a couple days, but what would you expect?"

"Sometimes little things like that make people evaluate their lives. Maybe it scared her more than you think."

"You think she decided to cheat on me because of a fender bender?"

"I don't know. But weirder things have happened. We don't even know if she is cheating on you yet." He wrote something on his notepad. "So a year and a half ago."

"I'm not sure, I didn't catch it at first. Seems like it is getting worse over the last few months, she's practically stopped talking to me at all. Her business trips used to be months apart before this started, then it was weeks, now it's a week or two at most."

"Where is she going?"

"Just the North-Central region for her office, same as always. Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota, and Iowa. Just the big cities."

"That will work. I have a lot of contacts that will work -- we have a kind of network across the area. Sort of a you-scratch-my-back thing. Cuts down on the cost of footwork. A lot of guys owe me favors." He shifted and pulled his jacket back showing me a large black revolver. "Had to start carrying because of one those favors. Scanning a bit of hotel security video is pretty simple."

I stared down at his desktop for a moment. "I hope I'm wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

*****

I was expecting to regret bringing Cash in on everything, but for the next week, Caroline was even more distant. If we'd have talked less, we would have been utterly silent.

I didn't get the feeling she was ignoring me so much as watching me.

Her next business trip took her to Omaha, not a place I pictured as a hot bed of illicit activity so I was stunned when Cash called me to meet him at the diner a few days later.

Missy put us at booth as far from anyone as she could get us.

Cash pushed a series of photos over to me. "I'm sorry, Lee. This sucks, but it looks like you might be right."

I stared at one of the pictures of Caroline hanging all over some guy in a hotel lounge. "Shit."

"She left with him, can't be sure where she went, but she didn't get back until three in the morning."

"Well, that just sucks." Missy leaned over and looked down at the picture. "Looks more like a random hotel bar hook up than a regular thing."

I looked up at her. "How the hell can you even tell?"

She tilted her head and studied it for a second. "The way she's standing. She don't really know this guy, she's fishin' for him."

Cash nodded. "Yeah, Missy's good at body language, that's why I occasionally hire her to watch people."

Missy wrinkled her nose at him. "I thought it was 'cause of my short skirts and long legs."

He gave the ceiling a rueful glance.

I glance between them. "Are you two, you know..."

Missy erupted in giggles. "Not 'no,' but 'Hell No!'"

Cash sighed. "Christ tell me you're kidding. Both my arms still ache whenever the damn weather changes."

Suddenly more serious, Missy looked back at the pictures. "So it's a random hook-up, and not some steady guy. Probably don't make a difference though, right?"

"I don't see how it would."

Cash shrugged. "I'm going to be in Omaha next week, I'll see if I can find the guy, it kind of looks like he's a regular, maybe a local, from the way he and the bartender seem to know each other. I don't know what difference it could make, but I'll see if I can talk to him."

I couldn't see how anything the guy could say might change my mind, but I didn't see any reason to tell Cash not to look into it either. "Well, let me know what happens."

He nodded. It was probably my imagination, but I felt the pitying looks from both of them as I left.

Not that it mattered, I was getting plenty of pity from myself as I pondered how one even chooses a divorce lawyer.

*****

It was a week and a half and a very depressing visit to a divorce lawyer later that Cash called me. "Is Caroline around?"

"No. She's in Dayton until next week."

"I've got a bunch of stuff I want to talk to you about and show you, but I'm running behind on a personal injury claim. I've got to get pics of a demolition site and then I have to get to the airport. The guy with the supposed back injury is apparently water skiing in Florida. It's short notice bullshit, but it'll be a couple weeks before I get back and I think you need to see this now."

"So, what is it?"

"There's a folder on my desk at the office with your name on it, just take it out to the school at the old Gooseland superfund site, that's the demo site where the guy supposedly got hurt. I'll meet you there."

"And just how am I supposed to get into your office."

"Shit. I forgot... just a sec."

I waited a minute while he did something.

"Okay, I texted Missy. She has a key and she'll meet you at the office."

"She could drop off the key."

"Nah, the office is about halfway between you, it's easier all around if she just meets you there."

Fifteen minutes later I walked up to his office where an annoyed-looking Missy in full warpaint-and-skimpy-outfit club clothes was waiting impatiently.

She picked up a large brown envelope and held it out to me. "I'm going to be late for my date.'

I glanced over her midriff top and very short skirt. "Looks like a promising date for some lucky guy. If that skirt were any shorter, it'd be a belt."

"Um, yeah. That's kinda the point. I even got a six piece body jewelry set. So let's get a move on so I can get my moves on."

She had the door locked and was down the stairs before I could even thank her.

I trudged over to my car and got in, wondering if it even mattered or if I was using the whole thing as an excuse not to file for a bit.

Tossing the envelope into the passenger seat I reached to fire up the engine just as Missy pounded on my window. "Hey, my car won't start."

"I don't have much time, but I can look at it real quick."

"Don't bother, it's the alternator."

I raised an eyebrow and she gave an exasperated shrug. "Okay, I know, my mechanic told me he thought it was going out, but it was expensive and there were these shoes... Never mind, I just need a ride to Club Electric, I'm sure I can get a ride home tomorrow morning."

"You'll have to wait until I talk to Cash, he's headed to the airport soon and I have to talk to him."

Missy looked like she was going to argue, but she shrugged and got in, picking up the envelope. "I'm worth the wait. I'll text him."

We were halfway to Gooseland before she lost her cell signal and started talking to me instead of texting the guy.

"So what did Cash say he was doing out at the old lead mine place? They emptied that town and shut it down years ago."

"Injury claim. The town's gone, and the school is all that's left. I guess they're taking it down or something."

"Uh huh." She started looking at the envelope. "You didn't get a chance to look in this?"

"When would I have had a chance?"

She gave me a calculating look. "Do you mind if I look at it?"

I thought about it. "No, not really. Probably nothing but more of the same."

She tore it open eagerly, pulled out a thick folder and began thumbing through it.

"All the cell phone and credit card info you gave him. Some notes, but I can't read his writing..."

Missy looked through the folder as I turned down the half-overgrown road past the warning signs.

She sat up abruptly, lips pursed and nose wrinkled. "Cash has files for like twenty guys in here."

"Seriously? When did she sleep?"

She stared at it, giving a tiny head-shake of confusion. "This doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make any sense?"

"Maybe he mixed your stuff up with something else." She shook her head in confusion.

"Why?"

"These are all missing person cases. From the last year and a half or so."

I glanced over at her and she shrugged then went back to paging through the folder.

"This guy, though, he's the one Cash sent that cell phone picture of two weeks ago..." I could hear hesitation in her voice. "He's in a missing person report from last week."

"We need to ask Cash what the hell is going on."

"You'll have to ask him in person. I don't have one damn bar on this cell phone." She looked around at the desolate area. "Lee, I don't like this."

"Well, we're almost there, so we'll get some answers from Cash and I'll just go back..." I stopped as the trees finally cleared, passing through an open gate in a tall fence marked "Construction Zone" and "Keep Out." We finally reached a long-abandoned parking lot in front of the crumbling corpse of a long-empty school. A lone school bus sat rusting alone in the middle of the lot, apparently waiting for Mad Max to come by. I could see a Cash's car over by the entrance near the Gooseland School sign. A giant crumbling concrete and rebar skeleton of the school mascot loomed next to the building.

I did a double take at the graffiti on the giant goose. "Go Honkers? Damn, that must have been a rough football season."

Missy answered distractedly. "Could be worse. My school mascot was "Trojans." Nothing by wall to wall condom jokes all year long."

I slowed to pull in by Cash's car. Just as I started to say something, she waved me quiet as she read half-silently to herself. She started frantically flipping through the folder. "No...no...no."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She shoved folder into my hands. "The pictures. Jeez-us. The pictures." She was having trouble getting words out.

I shuffled through them. They didn't have anything in common. Different jobs, different cities. "So what. A bunch of different guys..."

She caught her breath. "Flip through them." She sounded like she was going to throw up.

It was like one of things I used to draw in the corner of my school books to make cartoons. In the right order you flip the pages and the bird flies, the ball bounces, the spider crawls...

Or the man morphs.

He changed slowly as I flipped, looking more and more familiar.

He was changing into me.

Hair color. Eye color. Each victim looked more and more like me.

The last three were like looking into a mirror.

I froze. "What. The. Holy. Fuck..."

She gulped air spastically for a few seconds. "Some of those guys were found dead."

I fumbled through the file again. Words like "unsolved" and "murder" kept leaping out at me. "I...fuck."

"That's what I thought."

"Jesus Christ." I said it as a prayer, having trouble even getting my head around everything.

"Caroline gets back next week, right?"

"Yeah...."

"You can't be here. Not at all. We'll take it to the police. Then you just...go. Go somewhere. Go anywhere."

I nodded dumbly for a second. "That's... if Cash had this, what the hell else does he know?"

She slowly shook her head. "It's gotta be real bad."

"Let's just get whatever the hell Cash has for me and get back to town."

"He must be inside."

*****

In retrospect, going into the school was probably not one of my more brilliant decisions.

Just past the school office, where the ceiling had completely fallen in, was an open classroom and I could see what had to be Cash in some kind of overcoat slouched in a chair waiting for us.