Prologue
"Her death will soon be a mystery, even to me."
That was what Mort Rainey told himself everyday, everyday he planted more corn, consumed more corn, and tried to forget her death. He tried to forget, he tried to straighten things out in his life, it wasn't working. It had been one year since he killed his wife and her lover. It had been one year and six months since he found them in bed together. One year and six months of alone time, of Mort time. Shooter had gone, he hadn't heard from him, the other Mort, his conscience, had gone also. He was alone. Sometimes he saw Amy in front of him, sometimes he saw her and her lover in bed, his bed. Sometimes he secretly went into town, and stole things. Stole corn seeds, stole butter, stole salt, anything he felt like stealing. He was getting terribly bored of the lakeside home, and he thought about the hat that he had put in the attic. Maybe he should bring it down, become shooter again. If he became shooter, he would become a killer, a stalker, a redneck. He smiled at his idea, and typed the last few lines of his story.
"Finished." Mort said closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. His colorful robe covered his arms, flannel pants warmed his legs, and he looked out the window, the secret window. He walked over and looked at the cornfield, he couldn't forget. Maybe he needed another lover, another beautiful wife, another beautiful home. Mort groaned and walked down the stairs, getting a can of mountain dew from the fridge and four ears of corn. He was Mort Rainey, he was John Shooter, and on some days he was just nobody.
"Time to go into town." He said finishing off one ear of corn and chugging the mountain dew. He went up the stairs, changed his clothes and grabbed his keys.
Chapter One
Mort Rainey drove his 4x4 into town and parked in front of the local grocery store. His attire consisted of the same clothes he had worn last time he went into town. A red sweater, khaki like pants, and glasses with no frame. He had a huge smile on his face, an attempt to maybe heighten his spirits and maybe become close to one of the locals. He sat down at the counter, a young girl next to him. He looked at her, a crooked grin on his face as he examined her. She had brownish blond hair that was much like his own, braces like his own, and her chest was not huge, yet she was not flat chested. She turned to him and he looked at her face, she had nice cheekbones, blue eyes and a very small mouth. He guessed that she was no older than fifteen.
"Mort Rainey, how am i not surprised?" She said hiding a smile with her hand and looking at the middle aged woman that refilled her coffee. Mort nodded to the woman, who gave him a look of disgust but her nostrils flared in fury at the girl who sat next to him. He smiled when she went away and he leaned in to wards her.
"What's your name?" He whispered in her ear and she gave him a crooked smile as she looked him over. 'Very nice' she thought to herself, debating whether to tell him her name or not.
"Sarah." She said taking her coffee in her hand and taking a small sip. "And i already know you Mr. Rainey." She said in an accent that sounded almost like Shooter's.
"How do you know me?" He asked shyly, giving her a wink. She smiled and he saw her braces, for some reason he always thought that braces on a girl were somewhat...attractive.
"I read your book, well short story. Secret Window." Mort gave her a small smile and let the edges of his braces poke out between his lips. "How did you get the inspiration to write that story? To bury your wife and her lover in a secret garden, you couldn't have created that out of your head." Sarah said. Mort thought about it for a second while she took another sip of coffee and he had created it out of his head, he was crazy. His mind had created Shooter, the person that had actually been the one that killed Amy and her lover.
"It was actually based on a dream i had." He lied, making his excuse sound believable as she nodded her head once and thanked the middle aged woman when she placed down a plate of eggs in front of her. "So i was wondering if you would want to-"
"Mr. Rainey." Sarah interrupted and smiled at him. "Mort. Surely you must be working on something, you do not need me to keep you company, or to pester you with my problems. I assure you, if i were to come with you i would be nothing but a burden." She said some of it in a partial British accent, but not all of it and it didn't sound fake.
"Nonsense, and i assure you that you will not be a burden. If you are, i will tell you." Mort said getting up and offering Sarah his hand. She denied it politely by just getting up and placing a five on the counter. She followed him out of the grocery store. They climbed into his 4x4 and drove quietly back to the lake house.
"You must like corn, unless you really did kill your wife and her lover." She said laughing as they walked around the house and into the backyard.
"Oh yeah, chopped her up good." He said laughing, so they were both giggling like mad. Sarah walked along the bank of the lake and they soon entered the woods.
"So, why did you want me to come here?" She asked and he realized that this situation did seem incredibly awkward.
"You looked interesting." He said biting his lip, but not hard enough to draw blood.
"How could i have looked interesting to a handsome man if i didn't have huge breasts? Which i don't." Sarah smiled as Mort's eyebrows raised and he smiled.
"There not eye catching, but i don't care about boobs." He said. She smiled, showing off the metal that lined her teeth and he smiled back, also showing off his own metal.
"They suck don't they?"
"What boobs?" Mort asked.
"No, braces. How would you know if boobs suck?"
"Uh...i wouldn't."
"OK Mort, i know you were never dancing around in your mother's padded bra to the spice girl's when you were thirty five." She said laughing.
"How did you know that? You stalker." He said sarcastically. He laughed and he realized how much fun he was having with her. He took her hand and kicked a rock, Sarah smiled as she entwined her fingers with his and he returned the smile. They were walking through the woods and they soon arrived at the canyon where he had pushed the car over the edge. He turned them around and she looked at him strangely. "You want to see the window?"
"Yeah." She said coming closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He felt somewhat protective over her. Like he wouldn't let anybody touch her, mess with her, or hurt her. Nobody, not even Shooter could get to her...at least he hoped not.
"Her death will soon be a mystery, even to me."
That was what Mort Rainey told himself everyday, everyday he planted more corn, consumed more corn, and tried to forget her death. He tried to forget, he tried to straighten things out in his life, it wasn't working. It had been one year since he killed his wife and her lover. It had been one year and six months since he found them in bed together. One year and six months of alone time, of Mort time. Shooter had gone, he hadn't heard from him, the other Mort, his conscience, had gone also. He was alone. Sometimes he saw Amy in front of him, sometimes he saw her and her lover in bed, his bed. Sometimes he secretly went into town, and stole things. Stole corn seeds, stole butter, stole salt, anything he felt like stealing. He was getting terribly bored of the lakeside home, and he thought about the hat that he had put in the attic. Maybe he should bring it down, become shooter again. If he became shooter, he would become a killer, a stalker, a redneck. He smiled at his idea, and typed the last few lines of his story.
"Finished." Mort said closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. His colorful robe covered his arms, flannel pants warmed his legs, and he looked out the window, the secret window. He walked over and looked at the cornfield, he couldn't forget. Maybe he needed another lover, another beautiful wife, another beautiful home. Mort groaned and walked down the stairs, getting a can of mountain dew from the fridge and four ears of corn. He was Mort Rainey, he was John Shooter, and on some days he was just nobody.
"Time to go into town." He said finishing off one ear of corn and chugging the mountain dew. He went up the stairs, changed his clothes and grabbed his keys.
Chapter One
Mort Rainey drove his 4x4 into town and parked in front of the local grocery store. His attire consisted of the same clothes he had worn last time he went into town. A red sweater, khaki like pants, and glasses with no frame. He had a huge smile on his face, an attempt to maybe heighten his spirits and maybe become close to one of the locals. He sat down at the counter, a young girl next to him. He looked at her, a crooked grin on his face as he examined her. She had brownish blond hair that was much like his own, braces like his own, and her chest was not huge, yet she was not flat chested. She turned to him and he looked at her face, she had nice cheekbones, blue eyes and a very small mouth. He guessed that she was no older than fifteen.
"Mort Rainey, how am i not surprised?" She said hiding a smile with her hand and looking at the middle aged woman that refilled her coffee. Mort nodded to the woman, who gave him a look of disgust but her nostrils flared in fury at the girl who sat next to him. He smiled when she went away and he leaned in to wards her.
"What's your name?" He whispered in her ear and she gave him a crooked smile as she looked him over. 'Very nice' she thought to herself, debating whether to tell him her name or not.
"Sarah." She said taking her coffee in her hand and taking a small sip. "And i already know you Mr. Rainey." She said in an accent that sounded almost like Shooter's.
"How do you know me?" He asked shyly, giving her a wink. She smiled and he saw her braces, for some reason he always thought that braces on a girl were somewhat...attractive.
"I read your book, well short story. Secret Window." Mort gave her a small smile and let the edges of his braces poke out between his lips. "How did you get the inspiration to write that story? To bury your wife and her lover in a secret garden, you couldn't have created that out of your head." Sarah said. Mort thought about it for a second while she took another sip of coffee and he had created it out of his head, he was crazy. His mind had created Shooter, the person that had actually been the one that killed Amy and her lover.
"It was actually based on a dream i had." He lied, making his excuse sound believable as she nodded her head once and thanked the middle aged woman when she placed down a plate of eggs in front of her. "So i was wondering if you would want to-"
"Mr. Rainey." Sarah interrupted and smiled at him. "Mort. Surely you must be working on something, you do not need me to keep you company, or to pester you with my problems. I assure you, if i were to come with you i would be nothing but a burden." She said some of it in a partial British accent, but not all of it and it didn't sound fake.
"Nonsense, and i assure you that you will not be a burden. If you are, i will tell you." Mort said getting up and offering Sarah his hand. She denied it politely by just getting up and placing a five on the counter. She followed him out of the grocery store. They climbed into his 4x4 and drove quietly back to the lake house.
"You must like corn, unless you really did kill your wife and her lover." She said laughing as they walked around the house and into the backyard.
"Oh yeah, chopped her up good." He said laughing, so they were both giggling like mad. Sarah walked along the bank of the lake and they soon entered the woods.
"So, why did you want me to come here?" She asked and he realized that this situation did seem incredibly awkward.
"You looked interesting." He said biting his lip, but not hard enough to draw blood.
"How could i have looked interesting to a handsome man if i didn't have huge breasts? Which i don't." Sarah smiled as Mort's eyebrows raised and he smiled.
"There not eye catching, but i don't care about boobs." He said. She smiled, showing off the metal that lined her teeth and he smiled back, also showing off his own metal.
"They suck don't they?"
"What boobs?" Mort asked.
"No, braces. How would you know if boobs suck?"
"Uh...i wouldn't."
"OK Mort, i know you were never dancing around in your mother's padded bra to the spice girl's when you were thirty five." She said laughing.
"How did you know that? You stalker." He said sarcastically. He laughed and he realized how much fun he was having with her. He took her hand and kicked a rock, Sarah smiled as she entwined her fingers with his and he returned the smile. They were walking through the woods and they soon arrived at the canyon where he had pushed the car over the edge. He turned them around and she looked at him strangely. "You want to see the window?"
"Yeah." She said coming closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He felt somewhat protective over her. Like he wouldn't let anybody touch her, mess with her, or hurt her. Nobody, not even Shooter could get to her...at least he hoped not.