After Life by Andrew Neiderman Read Free Book Online Page A

again.
     
    No, this was different. It wasn't just the booze and all; it was. He
    recalled Jesse's telling him of her smelling something rotten and dead
    an hour or so before he had come home from work. This was something
    dead. Dead? Burt looked at Greg.. "Well, sir, we don't smell anything
    now. Yeah, I know, Lee said. He looked off toward the cemetery. We'd
    better get Tony Benson to the station, Greg said. Right. Benson, Lee
    said as they turned to go back. The possible significance of the name
    had occurred to him.
     
    He wouldn't have a teenage son in Gardner Town High, would he?
     
    Yes, sir. Paul Benson. Great little play maker on the basketball
    court, Burt said.
     
    Say, Greg said, pausing, you wouldn't be the new coach, would you?
     
    Yes, I would, Lee said. That's Paul's father? he asked, shaking his
    head. No wonder the boy is the way he is, he thought.
     
    Yes, sir, Burt said. He wasn't always like this, though. Oh? went
    downhill after his wife died. He happens to be an excellent carpenter,
    only I don't think he's held on to many jobs lately. Burt Peters
    smiled.
     
    Small town, sir.
     
    Everybody knows everyone's business. Sorry you were bothered. Thanks
    for calling us. The two policemen got into their vehicle. Lee watched
    them drive off, Tony Benson still not moving in the rear. He turned to
    look back at the truck and then he joined Jessie, who waited in the
    doorway. Why didn't you tell me about the blood? she asked as soon as
    he stepped up.
     
    I didn't want to worry you. Fortunately I made the right decision. What
    do you mean?
     
    There weren't any bloodstains. I guess I imagined them, he said. I
    would have worried you for nothing.
     
    How can you imagine bloodstains, Lee?
     
    I don't know, honey, he said, although he couldn't understand it. He
    had knelt down and confirmed it the first time. But what other
    explanation was there? They weren't there now. I got down on my hands
    and knees to check again. But I heard a gunshot, she insisted.
     
    Jess, its late as hell. I'll he as limp as a wet noodle as it is.
     
    She nodded and they headed back to their bedroom.
     
    Just after he put out the lights and joined her under the covers, she
    turned to him sharply. Lee? What now?
     
    How could old man carter sleep through all this?
     
    He didn't come out; he didn't try to find out what was going on. I
    don't know, honey. Maybe that's a benefit in being old. You don't hear
    all the nonsense that goes on around you and you have a good night's
    sleep.
     
    Boy oh boy, Lee added as he turned over, and here I thought life in the
    rural world was going to be too peaceful to stand.
     
    He closed his eyes. He knew Jessie was lying there thinking, hut he
    couldn't stop her.
     
    He couldn't even stop himself, for over and over he saw the image of
    that dark shadow threading itself around the bone-white tombstones
    before it disappeared into the depths of the cemetery.
     
    He fell asleep when he finally concluded that the night was a magician
    casting out illusion after illusion, overwhelming him and making him a
    victim of his own imagination.
     
    Lee sat in the physical-education office thumbing through Kurt
    Andersen's old purchase orders and correspondence. Despite the warm
    welcome he had received from most of the staff, he couldn't help feeling
    like an intruder. His predecessor hadn't had time to clean out his
    personal things and no one had bothered to do it for him and his family
    afterward.
     
    Andersen's entire career history still lingered on the walls in the form
    of congratulatory letters and plaques, as well as pictures with local
    dignitaries and school personnel. The correspondence in the files
    included many personal letters from other coaches, parents of former
    students, and former students themselves. After Lee had perused some of
    this, it was not hard for him to understand why the man had been
    something of an institution to the people of Gardner Town.
     
    From the letters