Douglas' straight brown hair was trimmed flawlessly in a prep school fashion, a logical choice for a man who despite having never gone to private school spent his brief but storied career mingling with those who did.
His chiseled features looked more gaunt and weathered than Terri had remembered, tell tale signs of the rigors of prison life. His voice was as calm as it was unnerving. "I needed to see you."
Terri leaned and whispered quickly into Louise's ear: "Go inside! Call Frank!"
"Hi, Louise!" Douglas called out with a disturbing cheerfulness as Louise dashed toward the house. She didn't look back. "Bye, Louise!"
Terri stood her ground anxiously. "Why are you here, Douglas?"
"I just wanted to talk to you, Peaches."
"I told you not to call me that Douglas, a long time ago. Remember?"
"I remember."
"You should have called."
"I tried," he said. "I couldn't get through."
"I'd been at work all day, Douglas. I have meetings with clients."
"And you've been staying with Louise. Why?" he demanded.
"That's not important, Douglas. Tell my why you came here."
"I told you, I tried to call," he explained. "I thought that maybe you blocked my number."
"You know I didn't do that, Douglas!" she insisted. "I would never do that to you."
"How am I supposed to know that?"
Douglas was leaning forward now in aggressive posture. His jaw was tense; his head, cocked slightly to the left. Douglas was solidly built, compact yet powerful, and his temper was legendary. Terri knew instinctively that her best bet was to keep him calm and talking.
"I didn't block it back then," she assured him. "I'm not going to do it now."
Douglas stared at Terri as he thought over her words. "You did change your number."
"That wasn't for you, Douglas," she explained. "You know that sometimes I run into some creep while I'm working. I have to be careful."
"Tell me the creep's name, and I'll take care of it."
"No, you won't take care of it, Douglas. It was a long time ago, and it doesn't matter. Now, tell me why you're here."
Terri controlled her breath and kept herself as relaxed as possible, but it wasn't easy. Douglas was visibly upset.
"I don't know what's going on anymore."
"Tell me what happened, Douglas."
"I tried to call Brad."
"Brad Marston?" Terri asked.
"Yeah."
Terri remembered Marston, one of Douglas' friends from college. He was a big, likable guy who received full tuition on a football scholarship. He and Douglas were members of the same fraternity, and both went to work in Washington after graduation.
Terri had seen Brad at fundraisers and other formal events. He and Douglas seemed like an odd pair. Brad was a head taller, jovial and boisterous. Douglas was reserved to the point of rudeness. He seethed with envy and a cunning determination to get ahead at any cost. Eventually, his ambition cost him his career and his freedom.
"Tell me what happened to Brad."
"I don't know," Douglas muttered. "Somebody got to him."
"What do you mean, Douglas? What do you mean, 'somebody got to him'? Is Brad okay?"
"I... I don't know, Terri. I called his office. They said he's not there anymore. I can't reach him on his cell. His home number is disconnected."
"Did he move?" Terri asked.
"I... I don't think so."
"Doug, maybe he just changed jobs," Terri suggested. "Maybe everything's okay."
Douglas seemed lost, deflated. What Terri had mistaken earlier for anger now looked more like depression. She felt an impulse to comfort him but resisted; it would be unwise to stir up old emotions.
"How can I help you?"
Douglas turned sharply to see Walter standing a few paces to his right. The descending sun lit Walter's shoulder-length hair from behind making him look like a tall Jesus with a rolling suitcase.
Douglas' response was characteristically abrasive: "Nobody asked for your help, pal."
Walter stood motionless as he assessed the situation. Terri's body language conveyed discomfort and possibly concern. He studied Douglas carefully. His judo training taught him not to underestimate the power of a smaller adversary, plus there's always the potential for a weapon to be present.
Douglas continued: "We're just having a private conversation here."
"A private conversation in my yard," Walter said flatly.
Douglas looked toward Terri: "This guy lives here?" She didn't respond.
"Hey, Walt!" A lean, well-tanned man in his forties walked toward them from the house next door. The man was carrying a small package. He had a crew cut.
Walter called back to the man: "Hey, Jay!"
"Angie signed for a package while you were away," Jay said.
"Yeah, I think that's for Louise," Walter confirmed.
"Who's your friend?" Jay inquired.
Walter attempted to facilitate the introduction: "This is..."
"Douglas," said the stranger, identifying himself.
Jay extended a hairy forearm decorated with a prominent tattoo of a heart and a sword. "Hi, Doug! I'm Jay!"
Douglas shook Jay's hand but said nothing.
"I think you've met Walter," Jay said calmly.
Douglas glanced toward Walter, but neither of them initiated a handshake.
"Terri," Jay said in a deep baritone voice, "Louise needs to see you inside for a minute."
Terri looked nervous.
"Don't worry, Doug," Jay said assuringly, "I'll have her back in just a minute."
Walter saw the fear in Terri's eyes. "It's okay!" he assured her. "Doug and I are just gonna chat until you get back."
Jay took Terri by the arm and led her swiftly toward the house. She walked without making a sound.
"Where's your car, Doug?" Walter asked.
"It's..." Douglas turned and pointed down the street, "...the gray one."
"Chrysler 300!" Walter said with enthusiasm. "I love those."
"Yeah, it's pretty good."
"Lot's of power!" Walter observed. "Hey, why don't we walk over that way before the rest of my neighbors come out to see what's going on?"
Walter and Douglas walked slowly toward the Chrysler.
"I'd invite you in," Walter said diplomatically, "but I have a big presentation in the morning, and I've got hours of work to prepare. You know how it is?"
"Yeah, I know," said Douglas.
"Luckily, the girls have a hair appointment, so I'll get some peace and quiet."
Douglas said nothing.
"Maybe give us a call, sometime," Walter offered. "We'll set something up."
"Yeah, okay."
Walter extended his hand as they reached the car. "It was good to meet you."
Douglas shook Walter's hand quickly and walked around to the driver's door.
"Drive safely!" said Walter.
Douglas started the engine, drove to the end of the street, made a left turn and disappeared.
Walter began to walk back toward the house but stopped as a shining black Chevrolet Suburban sped down the street and stopped beside him. Francisco jumped out of the Suburban as soon as it stopped moving. "Where is he?"
"Where's who?" Walter asked.
"Douglas Fenn-Creighley."
"Ah, he's gone," Walter said. "Left a minute ago in a silver Chrysler 300."
"Where's Terri?" Francisco demanded.
"She's inside," Walter said calmly. "Everything's okay."
Walter pointed toward the black Chevy. "What did you do, buy that thing off of the Secret Service?"
Francisco stared at Walter. "I don't have time for this."
Walter's tone became elevated quickly. "Well, maybe you have time to tell me who that fuck wad was and what he was doing at my house."
Francisco took a breath and relaxed slightly. "Okay, his name is Douglas..."
"I got that much already," Walter interrupted.
"He's Terri's ex," Francisco explained. "He's been causing trouble."
Walter pondered asking Francisco why he hadn't been made aware of this situation, but he decided to let it go.
"Come inside," Walter suggested. "She's gonna need to see you."
'The Horse Farm'
Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved
