Monsters

Chapter Five

5

Great, swollen clouds hid the stars as another damp night descended upon Gabriel's Horn, the gentle rain only the start of worse to come, according to the forecasters. The bitter bite of the wind like winter's guard dog kept everyone inside, peering out, waiting for the first signs of spring, despite the fact it was only just getting to be winter's turn.

Emmy knew Matthew was still angry. He jerked the truck into a spot by the front entrance, peering past her at the number on the entryway. Satisfied, he turned off the engine and jumped out without a word. Chivalry was not his strong point these days, but occasionally he remembered his manners. He hustled around the car, wincing once and pulled open her door.

They had argued all afternoon about coming to speak to Doyle, and she knew it had nothing to do with the money and everything to do with whom they were seeing.

Emmy swung her legs out and stepped down gracefully from the truck, smoothing out the creases in her short, pale skirt as she did so.

"Okay?" Matthew asked, more from habit than anything else.

She nodded and closed her door, allowing him to step first across the wide pavement and up to the door which opened easily into a dark hallway. Both of them waited a moment until their eyes adjusted, Matthew looking at her as if the dim passageway was an indication of wrongness in their decision to come, in her decision to come.

She reached for his hand and allowed him to set their pace as they walked briskly towards the light, trying to avoid the chill of the evening as it crept over their skin. Emmy's heels clicked furiously on the slick ground as she tried to keep up with her husband's long stride. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Matthew stopped suddenly, and her lead foot slipped ahead of her, almost causing her to fall into an impromptu splits. Matthew gave a disapproving hiss, his hand squeezing her arm tightly and his glowering expression no mask for his increasing impatience.

"What?" She asked angrily.

"I don't know why you wore those heels; you're going to break your damn neck in those things." He didn't look at her but continued to inch them closer to the stairs.

Emmy bit her lip and shook her head, choosing the high ground and refusing to be drawn back into an ancient argument. She had felt the need to look presentable, even to someone Matthew imagined wallowed in his own filth in a dingy, cockroach-infested pit. He didn't see the reason to put on the pretty summery skirt, or the heels, or even her makeup. Her jacket was also too thin for the wintery chill, and she shivered involuntarily as they started up the stairs.

"This is a mistake," he mumbled under his breath, not even attempting to hide his irritation. Emmy chose to ignore it. What other choice did she have? Since Doyle's name had come up, Matt had belabored the point that a mechanic he worked with at the shop knew a guy who was told by a friend of his that Doyle's well-known red Roadrunner had been seen in the area at the time of Scarlett's kidnapping.

Emmy had explained what John had told her earlier - that Godwin lived nearby, so it only made sense that his car would be seen in the area on any given day. After that and the look of doubt on her husband's face, she had taken the position of devil's advocate, getting to the point where she had convinced herself that it couldn't be Doyle even though she had no clue either way. She was relying on twenty year old information on the man - the boy Doyle Godwin had been and the say-so of John Kurzeka. Neither of these things were of any use in convincing Matt since he maintained he didn't remember Doyle from school - a lie - and he didn't respect Kurzeka's opinion because he was a "fucked up little weirdo." Her husband continued to hem and haw about calling and arranging a meeting. She continued to argue. It made no sense to her that a man in a flashy red car would embark upon a life of crime, never mind kidnapping.