Chapter 34
Some time had passed, and Cindy already had dinner waiting on the dining room table.
But James had not returned from work, and she started to get concerned.
She walked out of the dining room.
She walked into the kitchen for any signs of James. He was not there.
She walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway and then into the living room.
She walked to the windows and immediately peeked out the curtains.
She saw her Monza was the only car parked in the driveway and really started to get worried.
"He's never late from work," she said to herself.
Over in Bernard's home, James sat in the kitchen table with Bernard who had his Colt 45 aimed at him. He was scared to death and almost peed his pants a couple of times.
Wendy entered the kitchen and walked over to the counter by the refrigerator. She grabbed the Jack Daniels whiskey bottle.
She opened it up and took a swig.
She handed the bottle to Bernard. He took a swig.
Bernard handed the bottle to James, who refused.
"It's bad manners not to drink with your friends," Bernard said and motioned for James to take a swig.
"I don't drink," James replied.
"Only pussies don't drink," said Wendy.
Bernard tapped the barrel of his Colt 45 against the whiskey bottle as a little warning.
James reluctantly reached out and grabbed the bottle. He took a small swig.
"That's a pussy swig. Drink like a fucking man," said Wendy.
Wendy walked over and forced the bottle into James' mouth. She tilted it, and more whiskey poured into James' mouth.
James choked a little, and some whiskey dripped out from the corner of his mouth.
Bernard chuckled. "He's such a pussy."
Wendy removed the bottle from James' mouth and took another swig then placed it back on the counter.
"We have a few hours before it gets dark, so make us some grub," Bernard told Wendy.
Wendy nodded that she understood his order. Then while she walked over to the counter, her eyes lit up when she thought of something. "What about his wife? Won't she be missing him by now?" she asked Bernard.
Bernard looked at Wendy then he looked over at James and thought for a few seconds. "Get up," he told James while he stood up.
James stood up.
Bernard walked over to him, grabbed him by his arm, and walked him over to the phone.
"Now, you're going to call your wife and tell her that you're working some extra hours. Maybe a double shift. You got that?" Bernard said then he pressed the barrel of his Colt 45 into James' forehead. "If you're not convincing, your wife will hear your brains being splattered all over my kitchen wall. Understand?" he added and looked dead serious.
James nodded that he understood.
"Good," Bernard said then removed his Colt 45 from James forehead where it left an impression in his skin.
James dialed his home phone number with Bernard pressing the barrel of his Colt 45 into the back of James' head.
"I hope my gun doesn't go off accidentally," Bernard jokingly said.
James looked a little nervous, and Wendy noticed. She chuckled.
Over at James kitchen, his phone rang.
Cindy rushed into the kitchen and over to the ringing phone on the wall.
"Hello," she answered the call.
"Hey baby," James replied from the phone and sounded normal.
"Where you? You're late for dinner?"
There were a few seconds of silence. "Sorry, but Larry had me check out a shoplifter over at Steve's Science Shop. Then he asked me to work some extra hours tonight. Apparently, Ralph got sick. He vomited in the office a little while ago. I figured the extra cash would be great," James lied through his teeth.
"Okay. I'll put your dinner in the oven and save it for when you get home. Call me when you leave," she replied.
Back in Bernard's kitchen, he still pressed his Colt 45 into the back of James' head.
"I will honey," James replied.
Bernard snatched the phone out of James' hand and hung up the phone. "Very good. You get to live for now," he said then removed his Colt 45 from the back of James' head.
Bernard gave Wendy a loving smack on her butt. "Dinner darling."
She smiled then walked over and opened the refrigerator.
Bernard sat James back down at the table then he sat down.
Wendy removed some bread and lunch meat and walked them over to the counter.
Bernard kept a watchful eye on James while Wendy made some ham sandwiches.
Over at James home, Cindy ate her dinner alone in the dining room.
Some hours had passed, and Cindy sat on the couch and watched the Eight is Enough show on the TV. She started to get worried since she had not heard from James.
Over at Bernard's home, he walked James out of the kitchen and into the garage with his Colt 45 ready.
"See that shovel over there?" Bernard told James.
James nodded when he spotted the shovel in the corner.
"Good, now go get it and put it in the trunk of my car. And don't think you can take a swing at me with it," Bernard replied and made sure James remembered that Bernard still had his pistol with him.
James nodded when he walked over and grabbed the shovel.
While James walked it over to the rear of the Hudson, he wondered if he was going to be forced to dig his own grave. Just like in the movies.
He opened the trunk of the Hudson and placed the shovel inside. He closed it.
Bernard reached inside his pants pocket and removed his car keys. He tossed them over to James, who caught them.
"You're driving and keep it at the speed limit. I don't want to attract the attention of any police officer," Bernard said.
James nodded that he understood.
The kitchen door opened, and Wendy entered the garage.
"Take care of the garage door baby," Bernard told Wendy.
"Sure," she replied, then walked over the garage door.
James got behind the wheel of the Hudson with Bernard in the passenger seat.
Wendy opened up the garage door while James started up the Hudson.
Across the street, Agnes was back at her perch spying on Bernard's house from her living room window. She watched while James drove Bernard's Hudson down the driveway. She looked a little stunned with this sight.
"What is James doing with Hud Hudson?" she asked herself then watched while James drove the Hudson down Montvale Street.
James looked scared while he drove the Hudson down the street.
Bernard sat in the passenger seat with his Colt 45 pointed at James' side. "No funny business and everything will be alright."
Bernard glanced over at James. "Of all the people, a fucking mall cop figures me out. But I have to admit, I'm impressed with your determination. Reminds me of that pussy Bureau of Investigations Special Agent Ricky Kelly who pursued me back in thirty-four. But he failed, and I'm going to make sure you fail also," he said then looked at the street signs. "Head on down to the cemetery. I hope you know where that's located?"
James nodded that he did then made a left turn down another street.
While James drove down this street, he thought about flooring the Hudson and crashing into a parked car. But he figured that with his luck, he would be killed, Bernard would survive then kill Cindy. So he drove the speed limit.
Over in Marvin's house, he sat down on the couch in the living room where he placed a TV dinner and a bottle of Budweiser on a stand.
He smiled when he looked at the TV, and the Charley Angels TV show started.
His phone rang from the kitchen. He ignored it, as the sight of Jaclyn Smith, Farrah Fawcett, and Kate Jackson were far more critical.
The phone rang and rang, then stopped.
Marvin ate his fried chicken and sipped on his beer glad the phone stopped ringing.
His phone in the kitchen rang and rang again.
Marvin looked pissed while he got up off the couch. He knew that if he did not answer that call, it would be ringing all night.
He walked out of the living room and headed into the kitchen.
He walked over to his phone that hung on the wall and answered the call.
"Appleby," he said into the phone.
"Marvin, James hasn't come home from work, and I'm worried," Cindy blurted out in a panic.
Marvin looked bothered by his sister. "Don't worry. He probably had a flat tire or car trouble," he replied while he craned his neck to see the TV from the doorway of the kitchen.
"He said he was working late and would call when he was done. Well, the mall is closed, and he has not called."
"Cindy, he can't call if you tie up the phone line."
There were a few seconds of silence from the phone.
"You're right. Thanks," Cindy replied.
Marvin hung up the phone and rushed out of the kitchen and headed into the living room.
It was quiet in the Hudson while James drove down Grant Avenue.
"Park over there in the grass near the white fence," Bernard ordered James.
James pulled the Hudson to the left and parked in the grass off the street by the small white picket fence of the cemetery. He turned off the engine.
"Now, if you run, I'll put a bullet in your back. And then I'll put a bullet in your wife's forehead. Do you understand?" said Bernard while he pressed the barrel of his Colt 45 into James side.
"I won't."
"Good, now let's go do some digging," Bernard said.
He kept a watchful eye on James while they got out of the car.
Outside the Hudson, Bernard had his Colt 45 at James' back they walked over to the trunk.
"Open it and get out the shovel."
James opened the trunk and removed the shovel.
"Let's go," Bernard said.
James closed the trunk, and they walked to the white picket fence of the cemetery.
Bernard and James climbed over the small white fence and headed into the cemetery that appeared to be deserted.
Bernard and James, with the shovel in his hand, walked through the cemetery.
Then James stopped at his grandfather's headstone.
"Why the fuck are you stopping? I didn't tell you to stop," Bernard said and sounded pissed.
James looked down at the headstone. "My grandfather is buried here."
Bernard looked down at the headstone for "Homer Randall, Born September 9, 1896, and Died April 17, 1934" on it. "Why should I fucking care?"
James looked at Bernard and wanted so bad to smack him with the shovel, but figured Bernard would shoot him. "Because my grandfather was a police officer in Gibsland. He tried to stop some criminals from robbing the First National Bank. But one of the criminals shot my grandfather," James replied while he looked Bernard square in his eyes.
Bernard had a hunch where this was leading, so he kept his mouth shut.
"That criminal was you. Hud Hudson," James said and started to show some anger.
"Let's go," Bernard replied while he glanced away from the headstone, as this was the first time he saw the gravesite of someone he killed.
Bernard showed no signs of remorse while he and James walked away.
After a few minutes of walking through the gravesites, he stopped James.
"Start digging here," he ordered James.
James glanced down at the headstone for "Jimmy Peabody, Born August 4, 1883, and Died June 8, 1908."
"Right here?" James asked to be sure since he figured he was digging his own grave.
"Yes, right in the middle of Jimmy Peabody's grave," Bernard replied.
James looked down at the headstone then back at Bernard. It took a few seconds, but he remembered the TV show and the books he read. "Is this where you buried some of the loot from the jewelry store heists?"
"Very good. I'm impressed with your knowledge of my history. This has worked since thirty-five as a safe haven for my stuff. This one was the last one I buried in thirty-four just before the bank job. Now, dig in the center of the grave and make damn sure you don't destroy the grass. I want it back so that it does not look disturbed."
James felt creepy while he walked to the center of the grave. He carefully started digging.
Bernard removed a pack of Camels from his shirt pocket. He removed a cigarette, lit it with his lighter, and smoked while he watched James dig.