The Gardens of Digby Green: Hillside Cottages
Ray did his best to use screening traffic as he followed Green’s pickup. The option didn’t last long. State Road 30 angled off into the countryside. Ray slowed, believing that more distance between the vehicles would be less likely to irritate his quarry. He’d have to confront the man soon. It’d be nearly impossible to follow Green to and from job sites assigned by the supervisor at C.J. Futures.
The road divided broad, rolling farm fields where huge machines meticulously dropped the seed for next fall’s crops. Round bales dotted other plots of ground, and Ray had to brake as one farmer pulled a loaded wagon across to feed his herd of Holsteins.
When the lane was clear, Ray accelerated. Digby was too far ahead. On some other day this would be a pleasant drive, but the need to track the man gave Ray little opportunity to enjoy the scenery. From the top of a rise, he glimpsed a bulbous white-painted water tower that named the next town as Woodbine.
Digby’s turn signal was blinking. The man changed lanes, then pulled off the road to the left.
Ray grimaced. What should he do now? Here there weren’t convenient business lots where he could pull aside and wait. Green was stopping at a private residence. Ray didn’t want some total stranger to witness his discussion with the man. He drove past.
Repeated glances in his rear view mirror still showed the large farmhouse on its hill, but he shouldn’t go much farther. Ahead, on his side of the road, stood a hand-painted sign that read Sweet Corn, Tomatoes, and he found a produce stand. It was too early in the season for anything to be ready, but Ray pulled off the road and turned the Chrysler around.
Somewhere behind him on the property, a beagle bayed. If the farmer or his wife came out and questioned him, what would he say? In the distance, Digby appeared to be studying the house on the other side of the road.
Unease crawled down Ray’s spine.
The man got back in his truck. Ray held his breath. Which way would they go now? Green’s truck rolled down the drive, then sped off in the direction they had come. Ray pulled out.
No matter what else Digby Green decided to do with the rest of the afternoon, there were things Ray needed for himself. Food, a place to rest, and answers. Twenty-five minutes later, he was climbing the stairs to the office of the Hillside Cottages Motel.
He crossed the parking lot to Cottage 6, and let himself in with the key. His eyebrows rose. The decorating theme for this one was Classic Movies. The furnishings appeared to be comfortable enough, but each cottage also had chairs on the unit porch, so he’d settle out there to gather his thoughts, and wait for Digby’s return. His quarry would occupy Cottage 4.
Besides the usual computerized record keeping, this place also had an old-fashioned guest book, which each of them had signed, with a space where the manager wrote in the cottage numbers.
Ray returned to the Mexican restaurant and bought a meal, which he took back to eat on the cottage porch. Dusk arrived, along with more travelers and mosquito swarms. Ray retreated indoors. Angling the chair there to give the best possible view of arriving vehicles, he rehearsed how he’d confront Green.
Finally, the man pulled in, and left his truck. Ray gave him time to go indoors, then left his chair and the cottage. He walked to Green’s unit and knocked on the door. Green responded with a spew of profanity before facing Ray.
“What’s with you, dude? Why are you following me?”
Ray’s planned speech slipped from his mind. “When you left Rose’s Roses, was my wife alive?”
Digby Green’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned against the door frame. “Alive? Was she alive? Of course she was!”
Ray blinked, and took a step back, but then Green smirked.
“She was very much alive.”
The man’s tone registered in Ray’s mind, and he knew. With a raw, animal noise, he charged, knocking Green backward into the cottage. Momentum carried both men to the point where Digby’s back collided with the dresser corner. Grunting, he swung a fist at Ray, who managed to dodge. The struggle toppled a lamp, which crashed to the floor.
People in the next unit pounded on the shared wall, shouting, “Knock it off in there.”
The fight went on.
Screen doors on other cottages slammed as protesting people reacted.
#
“Missouri Valley Police,” Officer McMurray picked up the phone.
“I want to report a disturbance at Hillside Cottages. It’s in Cottage 4.”
“We’re sending a unit.”
The Gardens of Digby Green: Hillside Cottages is the final installment of this serialized story. Find the complete list of posts here.
Next week Friday a different story, Hedge of Thorns, begins.
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