Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Lauren, Monday

Three sweaty, dirty and dejected people stumbled into the Denny's on Mt. Lehman Road. To Lauren's surprise, they weren't outliers in terms of cleanliness; truckers and farm workers were seated at the counter or sharing booths, eating eggs, bacon, sausage and hashbrowns even at this time of night. Suddenly she felt ravenous.

The waitress, who also seemed to be serving as hostess, barely gave them a look before motioning them to the nearest empty booth.

"I don't know about you guys," Lauren said when they sat, "but I'm getting a Grand Slam."

"That sounds pretty fucking awesome, actually," Al said.

"I already had dinner," Sunny said with a grimace.

"Al and I have been living on granola bars and cereal since late Saturday night," Lauren said. "I think worry has been depressing my appetite, but it's back with a vengeance now." 

They all agreed on having coffee, though, when the waitress came to take their order.

When she left, Sunny asked, "Do you think it's just your body finally asserting the primacy of its need for sustenance, or is your mind taking a break from the search, knowing you've done all you can do for now, to assess what was waiting in the queue, so to speak?"

It was an interesting question. Certainly, when she'd looked upon the body of poor Charlie, her mind had seemed to disassociate itself from the rest of her for a moment, forced with the realization that they'd come to a dead end, in more ways than one, and just rebooted like a computer, resolving any processing errors and bringing everything stuck in the queue, as Sunny said, back on line. Suddenly she was starving. Suddenly she was exhausted. And she still had the long drive home, plus the kids to pick up. Miles to go, literally and figuratively, before she slept.

It had taken them another half hour to rebury Charlie and make their way here. Luckily no one had stolen Sunny's car while they were all back in the woods. It was a sad and awful thing they'd had to do, but there was no question of just leaving him there, in an open steamer trunk, exposed to the elements and being sampled by other wandering wildlife. Johnny wouldn't appreciate them digging up his dog and not putting him back where they found him.

Thinking about how respectfully her brother-in-law had buried him made her eyes sting with tears. He could have just buried his body right in the earth, to be devoured by worms and beetles and quickly recycled into nutrient rich soil. Using the heirloom steamer trunk as a makeshift coffin had been tantamount to giving Charlie a Viking burial or a place in the Valley of Kings. Not that Charlie had deserved anything less.

"Are you okay, Lauren?" Al asked, noticing her wet eyes.

"Yeah," she said shakily. "I just loved that damned dog."

"He belonged to Johnny's family?"

She nodded. "They got him around the time Tosh was born. A rescue. He was the best dog. So friendly, great with the kids, he'd play with them for hours. I was shocked to see him there, but thinking about it now, I guess I'm not surprised."

"How do you mean?" Sunny asked.

"The family thought he was lost. They put up signs all over the neighbourhood. We were all frantic to find him, but as the days went by, we lost hope." She sighed. "But I think what really happened is, Charlie died somehow... it looked like he got hit by a car... and Johnny secretly buried him out here and pretended he was missing so that the kids wouldn't be devastated."

"Huh," Al said. "Doesn't that remind you of that guy who hired us to pull the switcheroo with Sparky?"

Sunny nodded. "You know, when we were kids, I thought he was crazy, and that he should have just come clean. Now that I have kids of my own, I can understand his need to protect his daughter from the harsh realities of life and death."