Over Her Dead Body (6 page)

April nodded.
“Thanks
S
heriff.” She said as he headed back toward his car. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You really don’t remember anything?” She said to Michael.

“No
. Nothing
.”

It was a long night. April
walked up and retrieved the truck,
helped get Michael cleaned up
,
and then fixed them a snack of caramel apple slices and hot coco
a
. Michael recalled to her all the things that had happened. April sat there and shook her head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe he pulled a gun on you. Much less fired it.” She said shaking her head.

“I know. I thought the guy was going to shoot me for sure.” Michael said.

“And he put you in handcuffs. Imagine. My husband in handcuffs!” At this April couldn’t help but begin laughing. She laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. “What will the ladies at work say?” She laughed some more. “What would your mother say?”

“Seriously,
y
ou’re really going to tell everybody about this aren’t you?” He said in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? And pass up the best water cooler story of the decade? You bet.” She said.

Michael just raised his hands and dropped them into his lap, a sign of defeat. “Ok, but just remember, it will be your turn for something humiliating one of these times and I’m going to remember this.” He said to her. Then he moved in closer to her and grabbed her hand and lifted her up so she was face to face with him and he moved in to kiss her and just as she moved for the kiss he retracted. “Isn’t there anything I can do to silence these beautiful lips of yours?” He asked.

April pulled her head back and looked at him. “Are you trying to bribe the storyteller?” She said.

Michael nodded. “Maybe…”

“It’s going to take a lot more than a kiss to seal these lips!” She said with a grin.

“Really. Do tell.” Michael hoisted her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. After a long night of passion, lust, and bribery, they decided they would call in sick the next day and sleep in.

“No more sleepwalking in the woods?” She whispered to him as she drifted off to sleep.

“No more.” He said quietly as he drifted off to sleep with a promise rolling off his lips that was no sooner spoken than broken.

Chapter 5

The following day, April and Michael spent relaxing at home. There was an awkwardness in the air as both of them tried to take in the previous night’s experience and find some purpose or meaning in it.

Michael spent most of the afternoon pacing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. He would just stand and stare out the back door. There was so much to take in; the squirrels, the birds, the trees, and every other living thing that created a community in their backyard. But Michael didn’t see any of it. He stared in the right direction but he looked past it all into an area in his mind w
h
ere he replayed the gunshots, the handcuffs, the feeling of the soil under his toes. Why was he out there? How did he get there? He had never had any troubles with sleepwalking before. Why now? Was there some logical explanation that he just couldn’t see? He stood there and wondered. He reflected to his childhood and couldn’t recall having had any instances of sleepwalking. Could this be a sign of some medical condition that is about to make itself known? He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head to himself.
Handcuffs. Me in handcuffs. What’s next?

April was also deep in thought. Instead of pacing, she found solice in research. What is sleepwalking? Is it dangerous? Could it be cured? These were the kinds of questions she was plugging away into a search engine on the internet and reading page after page. Some of the sites claimed to be written by doctors while other sites were built by individuals who’ve had to deal with personal sleepwalking or that of a loved one. She read stories about people who managed to drive from one place to another while asleep. People who’ve opened their doors at two o’clock in the morning to a neighbor, friend, or relative who had shown up dead asleep with strange requests or statements.

Some sites claimed there were treatments and medicines for the treatment of sleepwalking. April leaned back on the couch and stretched. Her laptop was on her lap and nearly fell off. She glanced up at Michael. He was at the back door again looking out with that far away look. Did he need medicine? It only happened once, but what if he had gotten hurt? What would have happened if the sheriff hadn’t found him? Hypothe
rmia? Truck accident? Who knows…
She didn’t want to see him on medicine but she didn’t want anything to happen to him either. It was clear that he was just as worried as she was. She put her laptop aside and went to him.

“What are you thinking?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind.

“What makes you think that I’m thinking?” he turned around and slid his hands around her waist.

“Just a hunch.” She said while she looked deep into his brown eyes. She always felt herself getting lost in those eyes. Sometimes she would look into them and they seemed bottomless, like she could fall in and continue falling forever. Sometimes the feeling would overcome her and her knees would get weak until she felt like she would topple over. As she looked now, she had the same feeling and she tightened her grip a little more and found herself determined to hang on. How could he be so calm? She could sense that he was concerned because of the pacing and the staring out of the back door. It’s what he always does when he’s worried or in deep thought over something. But, he always seemed so calm. Inside her was a tsunami of waves being thrown about. Her emotions and thoughts went sliding all over the place from one wave of emotion to another. She felt like she was on a boat in a massive storm and the waves would come in pounding against the ship, tossing it in different directions. Then, just when she thought her ship was about to sink, she would look into Michael’s eyes and find calm water; an undisturbed lake. In her mind she could see herself sitting on a dock in her orange sundress and dipping her feet in the calm water. And her ship would begin to settle. The waves would get smaller and smaller until her boat was anchored next to the dock on the still water while she lost herself in his eyes. She looked away now for fear she wouldn’t return and just put her head against his chest and cried.

The day winded down without anything exciting. Michael and April went for a walk down the road. Michael pointed to about where he had come out of the woods. They spent more time researching sleepwalking and decided that if it happened again that he would see a doctor and maybe have a sleep study done where they watch you while you sleep. They sat on the couch for most of the evening just sitting quietly and holding one another. They weren’t sad or depressed, it was just that they didn’t get many opportunities to just sit during the week and be with one another. It always seemed like during the weekends they were so busy running errands and managing the honey do list that they hadn’t had an actual break to rest in ages. It was nice. It felt nice. They shared a sizzling hot steak, broccoli, and a potato for dinner. Then they settled in to watch their evening show. Monday night. “Lie to me” was on. It was a show about a deception expert. Dr. Cal Lightman was the lead character who would help solve crimes for the FBI or the private sector. They enjoyed a glass of red wine and began their nightly routine of preparing for bed. They were all settled in and April was about to turn off the light when she turned back and looked at Michael. Michael smiled because he knew what she was worried about and what the look was for.

“I’m not going to have to chain you to the bed am I?” She said.

“I’ll be good,” he said. “Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers which was the symbol for a good scout.

She smiled and said “you better mister…or you will be court marshaled!” She kissed him and turned out the light. They both la
y
there in deep thought looking up into the darkness until finally succumbing to sleep.

Chapter 6

Sheriff Watley was back on duty again. It was a fairly slow night. There was a domestic disturbance at the Reighly house…that was nothing new. At least once a week he would have to report to the house and help settle the argument. He had gotten accustomed to the flying dishes and the yelling. Now he would just walk straight in and start ducking right away. Eventually he would get the two of them sitting down at the table and talking. It usually took about an hour but they would wear down and the voices would go from yelling to a soft retort until finally they couldn’t remember what they were fighting about in the first place.

He had given out three tickets after that. Two speeders and a right tail light out. A group of kids were in the car with the tail light out and he could smell marijuana on them. The driver didn’t appear stoned, but rather a shy kid toting around his friends. Sheriff Watley confiscated paraphernalia and a small bag of weed and sent them on their way with a warning. He wondered if these could be the same kids that spray painted the bridge. He didn’t find any spray paint on them though. As things winded down and the streets became empty, the sheriff figured he had some time to go finish the job on the bridge that he didn’t get to finish the night before. He still couldn’t get that whole situation out of his head. It just didn’t seem right somehow. He mad
e a left and turned on
to Cherry Blossom and headed the same direction he had the night before. He didn’t figure he’d run into any trouble tonight. As he wound his way down the road, it didn’t take long for him to realize that he had figured wrong.

Angel Falls, NY was officially named back in 1803. The town began not unlike many others, by a few small families living close enough to one another that some entrepreneur decided to set up a shop in between homes and make a small profit by trading and selling goods. In the case of Angel Falls, it was a young man by the name of Judiah Branshire that set up a small blacksmith shop and bartered merchandise in exchange for various commodities. One family may be in need of horseshoes for instance and would come to Jud
i
ah and trade the horseshoes for corn. Another family might need corn and trade for hogs. Eventually enough passerbys took notice and settled nearby so as to always have things available to them that they would need. It didn’t take long for other entrepreneurs to join in alongside Judiah and soon there was a liquor store, a hotel, and a bank. It had always been said that Angel Falls got its name from the small waterfalls that flowed down the Raquette River downtown. There are others who claim the name came about after a bad case of smallpox wiped out a generation of children. They called the children their angels and because they had “fallen”, they named the town accordingly.

Sheriff Watley had lived here all his life. His father was a sheriff and although he had always had dreams of going off to college and making family history by being the first to earn a college degree, he couldn’t settle in on anything and after picking up a job at the station part time, he eventually was consumed and grew into the role. He loved the job anyway. He could understand why his dad had done it. It was a damn good feeling to be able to help so many people. He had built a reputation just like his father of being tough but compassionate. Angel Falls was his playground. He knew a lot of folks and they all seemed like family to him. The crime was about what you would expect in any small town. Most
of
the calls were for domestic disputes, bar fights, or petty theft. Sometimes there would be a big drug bust, but usually things were pretty quiet.

Sheriff Wat
ley
was driving down the road, thinking about the graffiti on the bridge. Kids. He thought. Will they ever change? Better to be patching up some graffiti than cleaning up after a drive by. Sometimes you just have to be thankful for the small crime. The sheriff stopped suddenly. In the road up ahead was the same truck from the night before with
the
door open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He said under his breath. He just sat there staring for a moment trying to understand. Is somebody fucking with me? A guy wouldn’t just sleepwalk to the same spot in the woods twice in a row…would he? He shook his head and pulled off to the side and placed the car in park. He picked up the
CB
and called it in.

“Base,” he said.

“This is base, watcha got James? Over.” The sound of Leah’s voice filled the car.

“You on duty tonight Leah? I thought it was your night off. Over
.
” Sheriff Wat
ley
said.

“It wouldn’t be a night off If I couldn’t harass you now would it? Sara’s kid’s got a touch of the flu so I’m fillin in for her tonight. Watcha got sweetie? Over
.
”

“Well, I’m out here on Cherry Blossom again. Over.”

“That graffiti thing? I thought you took care of that last night. Did them boys get it prettied back up already? Over.”

The sheriff looked down and then back up shaking his head. “I got a little distracted last night remember? Over.”

“Oh yeah, the sleepwalker right? How’d that go anyway? Over.”

“Well, let’s just say I’m getting distracted again. Over.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Is that old boy out there again? Over.”

“Well, his truck is here in the road again. So, I’m going to assume it’s him. Unless his wife has decided to give it a shot. I’m going to check it out. I should check in in about ten. Over.”

“K. Be careful James. This is getting kind of creepy. Over.” Leah’s voice echoed in the car.

Tell me about
it
. The sheriff thought as he put on his hat and stepped out of the car.