Two weeks to premonition.
The house was finally finished which meant that dad and I could return home to sleep in our own beds after what felt like an eternity away. The house still had a lingering smell of smoke but it was bearable, especially since the windows had been left open for the last few weeks. I was happy to see dad again, feeling as though we had seen so little of each other since the fire. He casually mentioned that we should spend some time together, telling me that he was planning to go to the casino tonight if I wanted to join him for dinner and a few hands of poker. That was my dad's way of bonding, he didn't do the typical things that most father's do but it still meant heaps to me that he wanted to try.
I could see that dad was stressed after talking to Fletcher, holding the bill in his hands despite the fact that he had looked over it more than twenty times. Something about having to pay for an accident didn't sit well with dad, especially since his insurance company didn't do much for him in terms of helping with finances. Most of the cost came out of dad's wallet, and I wondered if that was why he was so eager to head over to the casino. My dad wasn't a habitual gambler, but gambling was a prominent trait that a lot of people in Harrow Hall shared in. For every church there were two more casinos in Mahogany County, each one beckoning people in time and time again but rarely sending home big winners.
Fletcher sat in the driveway for a long while, typing something out on his phone and seemingly unaware of the fact that I was watching him from the living room window. I wanted to know what he was up to, still feeling suspicious of him. I don't know what came over me, but I got myself together and headed out to my van. As soon as he saw me enter the drivers seat, he put his phone down and pulled out of the driveway. I watched as he got almost completely down the street before I pulled out and tailed behind him, trying to keep a moderate distance between us. He stopped at his house but left his truck on while he went inside, holding some sort of cloth bag when he came back out to get inside of his vehicle again. At first I figured he was doing his normal running around, but something inside of me kept saying to follow him to see what he was doing. I almost lost him in the small bit of traffic near the stop lights, but found him parked outside of the bank as he headed inside to cash the first check of many that my father had given him. They had agreed on a payment plan, that way dad didn't have to dip into his savings and instead would have to work more overtime than he already did. I had agreed to give half of my pay to him every two weeks so that at least I was contributing.
Once Fletcher finished his business at the bank, he drove down the road leading out of town. He drove down Fischer Street before turning onto his own road, bypassing his house and heading through one of the three main housing developments in Harrow Hall. He took a back road leading out towards Lake Newberry before driving down the red bridge county road, weaving back onto Fischer Street until he arrived at the edge of town where the junkyard was. It seemed as though he was purposely taking a detour away from the heart of the town, probably in hopes of no one seeing where he was going. Suddenly my intuition felt as though it had paid off. Whatever reason Fletcher had to avoid the main traffic of town, especially since it caused him to go so far out of his way, probably wasn't with the best intentions. He jumped out of his truck to open the large metal gate of the junkyard before getting back into his vehicle and driving inside. He parked near the main office, exiting his truck and heading over to the garage just off to the side. There was someone working on a vehicle, not quite visible with their head under the hood.
Fletcher spoke to the person before they finally removed themselves from their work. I watched carefully from the other side of the road, but I wouldn't be able to hear much from this distance. I contemplated sneaking inside of the junkyard, but figured that might look bad if I got caught. As the person stood up straight to face Fletcher, it was clear as day who it was – Atheson. The two of them conversed for a long while, even looking as though things were getting heated at one point, before simmering down as Fletcher went back to his truck to retrieve something. Fletcher came back over to Atheson, holding the same cloth bag that he had gotten from his house, before handing it over to him. I had seen this type of bag before, usually small businesses used it at the end of the work day to clean out their till and deposit it into the bank. Atheson hesitantly took the bag and opened it, raking his fingers through before pulling out a few bills, exposing a large amount of money inside. My mouth dropped – Fletcher had been getting incriminating phone calls from Marik before he died, and yet he had that amount of money on him to give to Atheson? But what I wondered most – what was the money for?
The two of them glanced around, realizing that I had to get out of their eyesight before they noticed me watching. I put my van in gear and took off down the road, my heart pounding as I gripped the steering wheel and tried to figure out what Fletcher and Atheson were up to. Everything about that meeting screamed suspicious, but I couldn't figure out why Fletcher would give money to Atheson of all people. Did he owe Atheson money, too?
~~~
I returned home and spent some time with dad watching television before we readied to go to the casino for dinner and a few hands of cards. Dad told me about how there was a new woman at work that he was interested in, but didn't know whether she was interested in him – she was recently single after divorcing her husband of eight years, and he had overheard her talking about wanting to date again. Dad said she was beautiful, but what really captivated him was the sound of her laughter in the auto shop. It made me happy to know that dad was willing to try to go out on a date, seeing as how he had been so private about it before. I wanted to believe that he had seen women in the time since mom had left us, but he refused to talk about it or bring any of them home if he was doing such a thing.
We took a booth at the casino restaurant, it didn't boast anything fancy but the food was enjoyable enough. Dad ordered Chicken Parmesan while I had the local salmon that was fried with the slightest bit of lemon. We talked about how things were going in our lives, mostly about what was keeping us busy the last few weeks. I could tell he was curious about John after mentioning his name more than a few times, telling him that John and I were starting to get quite serious. At first he looked surprised, almost like it shocked him to hear that I had moved on from Atheson finally, but he also looked content.
"He treats you well?" Dad asked, keeping his eyes on his chicken as he sliced another piece off.
"He does. I really like him, dad," I said, noticing a slight smile taking up one corner of dad's mouth. "He's the perfect fit for me."
"You'll need to bring him around more so that I can get to know him better," Dad replied, finally making eye contact with me. "Not that I don't trust your judgement, but if he makes you this happy then maybe I should get used to him, hey?"
I wanted that to be the case so bad, gulping down the fear of losing John in only two weeks. "I would really like that."
"Look at us, both finding people we like," Dad chuckled. "Would you be okay if I brought Sidney home for a cooked meal?"
"You mean you'd actually cook her something?"
"Hey now, I used to cook some mean mac and cheese back when you were nothing but a tot."
"I hate to break it to you, but you're going to have to do a bit better than mac and cheese."
"Baked casserole?" He laughed, shrugging. "I don't know, Ellie, I'm not any good with this stuff – that's why I have you, you're supposed to set me straight."
"Casserole seems like a step in the right direction."
"Otherwise it's meat and potatoes."
"That's a bachelors meal, don't make that. If you really want to impress her, cook with her. Or, you know, you could just ask her what she likes to eat," I said, finishing the last bit of my meal before setting my cutlery down on the plate. "Nothing says romance like two people cooking up a storm together."
Dad smiled at me, resting his elbows on the side of the table as he looked across at me. "When did you get to be so grown up? I should be the one giving you dating advice, but look at us now."
"I don't feel grown up at all," I replied. "I'm glad we're back under the same roof because I was really starting to miss you, dad."
"I missed you, too, kiddo," He said as he pushed away his plate and finished the last sip of his coffee. "Now let's knock off this mushy stuff and play some cards. I'll even give you a twenty to go play the slots like you used to love."
We both stood up and dad left behind money for the waitress, leading me out into the main lobby of the casino. Back in the day dad used to bring me to the casino with him quite a bit, I know now that was because he was hard up for money but he always made it so much fun for me. He used to sit me on his lap and let me pull down the lever for the slot machines, and he would even let me pick his numbers for roulette. But when I got into my teens, the staff of the casino started seeing it as underage gambling instead of a cute gesture from father to daughter so I wasn't allowed to go again until I came of age. Even when I hit the legal age, I didn't have much of a desire to go to the casino, mostly because I had seen what it did to the people around me. A lot of the folks of Harrow Hall struggled with gambling, some more than others, and it was a wake-up call that it was something I didn't want to get heavily involved in. I made an exception tonight for the sake of my dad.
Dad handed me twenty dollars before heading off towards the poker tables, and I drifted throughout the casino as I looked over all of the various games that were available to play. I wasn't the best at cards, so I decided to stay away from them, instead I sat down at the roulette table and picked my numbers. My mind was scattered as I watched the ball roll into it's final destination, proclaiming me a winner. There was a slight rush that went through my veins, but I immediately felt guilty for having experienced any enjoyment for winning money. I pulled myself from the table, now coming out of the game with thirty-five dollars to my name. I weaved through the slot machines, noticing how vacant the stares were of the people playing the games. There was one woman in particular whose movements seemed almost robotic as she placed a coin into the slot, pulled down the lever, watched the symbols set in place on the screen, only to repeat it over and over again. Even when the machine rang out in a cheery tune to indicate she had won something, she showed little to no response to it. I sat down a few rows away from her and inserted some money into the machine, a small jingle indicating that I was ready to play. I held the lever in my hand, looking over to the delirious woman as she continuously repeated her movements, before pulling down the lever so that the symbols rushed by anxiously on the screen. One by one, the symbols came crashing down into place but none of them matched. I sighed, feeling as though I had pushed my luck and now I was down to thirty dollars.
I felt unnerved by the woman and found myself sickened by the slot machines, deciding to head back over to the poker tables to join dad. I walked by the first two tables without paying them any attention, but the third table instantly pulled me out of my head and into reality. There, sitting at the table joined by three other men was none other than Fletcher Daniels. I skidded to a stop, instantly joining the second table and keeping my back slightly turned so that Fletcher didn't see me. Was this his secret way of getting money – more gambling? Since Marik was now dead, did that mean Fletcher was able to show up at his old haunts for one last hurrah?
I listened to Fletcher chirp at the other men at the table, each one looking more perturbed by his constant talking. Fletcher was clearly trying to shake up the table, a tactic I had seen him use at one of dad's poker games at home. I peeked over my shoulder to get a better look of what was going on, noticing that Fletcher was smiling from ear to ear.
"Don't look so sour, buddy, it's only a game, am I right?" Fletcher said, nudging the guy beside him who looked like he had seen better days, if I didn't know any better I would have thought he was about to burst into tears – this seemed to fuel Fletcher's ego even more. "Listen, once we play through this hand I'll buy you a beer, buddy, that will make everything better."
"Would you just shut up?" A larger man at the other end of the table snapped, trying to focus on his hand but clearly he was too agitated to contain himself much longer. "All you do is open your flap trap and gab, gab, gab. You're like a woman!"
"That's being too nice," Another man who was wearing sunglasses at the table said, "he's more like an annoying little kid wanting someone to pay attention to him. Pay him no mind."
"Kinda hard not to when he's got somethin' to say every hand," The larger man replied, dabbing away some of the sweat off of his forehead with a cloth he kept in his back pocket.
"Come on, fellas, it's just a bit of friendly banter," Fletcher added, again nudging the frail man beside him. "You know it's all laughs, right buddy?"
The dealer announced something to the table, causing the ruckus to quiet down for a moment as everyone played around with their chips before either holding onto their cards or folding out of the game. The larger man folded his hand, leaving the table but not before giving a very sarcastic pat on Fletcher's shoulder, while the other three were determined to keep playing. Fletcher let the dust settle for a moment before continuing where he left off, egging on the other players for what felt like an eternity. Finally the dealer announced something again, and this time Fletcher cursed under his breath and set his cards down on the table face up. The frail man beside Fletcher let out a quick holler of excitement, smacking Fletcher on the back as he set down his own cards. Fletcher rolled his eyes, taking what was left of his stacks of chips before leaving the table. I quickly faced away from him so that he didn't catch a glance of me, waiting until he headed away from me before looking back at him. He headed over to cash out his winnings, which gave me the opportunity to go over to dad's table. Dad was still in a game of cards, smiling at me as I approached. I asked him for the keys to his truck, saying that I had forgotten something at home and would be back very soon. He seemed disappointed when he asked how much I had won, but I mentioned that I was having more fun watching people play. He gave me the keys and I promptly took off, going to the truck before Fletcher was finished cashing out.
I located where Fletcher's truck was parked and kept a close eye on it until Fletcher came back, whistling as he got inside. He didn't take off right away, instead he tapped away on his cell-phone before finally putting the keys in the ignition. Once he was finished with whatever he was doing on his phone, he once more took off down Fischer Street which went from one edge of the town to the other. This time he didn't take a back route to get to the junkyard, instead he went straight down Fischer until he passed the Eight Ball Motel and ended up at the junkyard once more. I found it much more difficult to follow him at night time seeing as how my headlights were giving me away, but once I figured out where he was going I went past the junkyard and turned around on the next county road. I flicked off my headlights and pulled up outside of the gates, seeing Fletcher's headlights near the main office again. I needed to know what he was saying to Atheson, pulling myself out of the truck and slipping through the metal gates. I tried to hide myself behind anything nearby, making my way towards the sound of Fletcher's voice. I carefully made my way around the office building, peeking around the corner to see Fletcher and Atheson with their backs turned to me.
"I don't give a rats ass, Atheson, figure out how to make it work," Fletcher snapped, handing Atheson a large wad of bills. "I can get the vehicle to you, but you gotta take care of it."
"There won't be enough for all of us," Atheson said, counting the bills before shoving it all into his pocket.
"Don't worry about me, I'm gonna have to do my time for this if that's what it takes," Fletcher replied. "Just make sure she doesn't find out anything. Bad enough that Marie came back to town so early, that woman can't keep her mouth shut about anything."
"But Marie is on board?"
"Last time I spoke with her she was still honky-dory, we just have to keep her that way. She wants what is best for Hadley, just like I do. I'm not proud of myself for this, but it's the only option I have."
"You think you'll get caught?" Atheson asked, looking over his shoulder for a moment. I hid behind the wall of the building again, my heart pounding as I waited for them to start talking again. He hadn't seen me, had he?
"I don't know how I won't get caught," Fletcher replied. "But I'm doing this for my baby girl, and that's all that matters. She's the only one that I give a damn about, so if you happen to get in the way at all, then it's your own damn fault. Make sure she stays safe."
"She will, sir, I promise," Atheson said.
The two went quiet from this point on and went their separate ways, two cars taking off from the junkyard. Once I knew they were both gone and not going to turn around any time soon, I made my way out of the junkyard and into dad's truck. That seemed like all the proof I needed – Fletcher was trying to get Hadley to safety because he was going to kill John. But why – wasn't there some other way he could save Hadley without having to kill John for more money? None of this made sense.