Riddle Read Free Page B

downstairs she had already disappeared somewhere in the depths of the house and he was relieved he did not have to listen to any more instructions.

Chapter 3
     
                  The garage was the only part of the house that looked the same. His father’s tools still hung on the pegboards above his ever clean workbench. Plastic storage containers, clearly labeled with the contents, were stacked neatly on the shelves. The old black Silverado had been backed into the garage. As he approached the driver’s door he stopped short. Parked next to the truck was a newer model bright red convertible. Apparently his mother’s expensive tastes extended beyond home improvements. Shaking his head he climbed into the truck. He had never been permitted to drive the truck before. At the time of his arrest he was taking Driver’s Ed classes, one of the classes he had enjoyed, but the only driving experience he got was in class. For a moment he sat and stared out the window. Inhaling deeply, the odor of his father’s tobacco filled his head. Funny, the smell was no longer in the house and he had not even noticed its absence until now. It was as though his mother had completely erased all indications his father ever lived there except for the garage. He wondered if she would eventually get to that too. Pressing the garage door opener that had always been on the visor, he was surprised that it still worked. Starting the engine he listened to the rumble of the engine as it came to life. The truck thrummed beneath him and he drove cautiously to the end of the driveway. The two women he had noticed earlier were now sitting on the front porch of one of the houses across the street. Kort was conscious of their eyes staring at him, almost unblinking, as though he was some dark monster that had come into their neighborhood. He didn’t recognize either of them and knew that they had to have moved in after he had gone to prison. Yet they knew enough about the situation to be eyeing him suspiciously. He momentarily considered going back into the house. The sky had grown a deep gray and heavy clouds hung over the town like dark shades. It was going to rain again and the roads would be slick. A car passed the driveway, two teenagers sitting in the front seats. He watched as the car slowed and the girls stared out at him, eyes wide and mouths moving as they discussed the killer in their midst. Kort felt exposed, examined, dissected like some science experiment in a huge lab called Riddle. Suddenly the car sped up and he watched the taillights as it turned at the end of the road, eventually disappearing from view. At almost the same moment the two women rose from their porch chairs and went inside the house closing the door behind them. He could almost hear the lock snap shut to keep the fiend named Kort outside.
    “That’s enough,” he said firmly. Taking two deep breaths he counted to ten and pulled out of the driveway.
    As he drove through the streets of Riddle he realized not as much had changed as he’d thought. Children were walking on their way home from school or after school programs; some mothers waited at school bus stops for smaller kids. When he drove past the hospital he briefly regretted not taking Norma up on her offer of dinner. In the same moment he realized he was not ready to resume relationships yet; he needed time to adjust to life out from behind bars.
    Soon he found himself driving past the high school. The group of girls was no longer on the field but the football team was still there, practicing under the watchful eyes of coaches and a few students who sat in the bleachers. Suddenly he spotted the flashing red and blue bar of a police car behind him. He took a quick glance at the speedometer as he pulled over. He had not been speeding.
    Looking into the rearview mirror again he watched as the deputy moved slowly toward the truck; hand on the butt of his holstered gun. The brim of his hat cast a dark shadow on