by Harper Shaw
“Hello?” Riya Patel was her name. She was much further along in the program than Rebecca and had proven to be valuable support, something Rebecca knew sponsors were supposed to be but had always doubted for some reason. The last time they had talked was the day before she left. That was probably the last day she’d felt even remotely confident about her now ruined sobriety.
“Hey, Riya, it’s Rebecca.”
“Oh, hey girl! How are you?”
“Um, fine, I guess. Well, not really, actually.” Rebecca always struggled to open up to Riya. She already wasn’t the best at even explaining her feelings to herself, let alone someone else. And putting a confession on top of that wasn’t helping matters.
“Rebecca, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay, I’m going to be honest, that doesn’t sound good. What happened?”
“I kind of fell off the wagon the other day. Went to a restaurant for dinner with some old friends and ended up drinking. A lot. You know they’re suing me and stuff, and another one of my friends has been killed since I got here. I’m not trying to make excuses, really. Thing is, I’d been doing so well up until that point. Hadn’t had a drop. It all just happened so fast, you know?”
“Look, I get that you’re probably disappointed now, but it’s important that we don’t let the other night turn into something again, okay? We all mess up sometimes, but if we let our mistakes get to us, everything comes back down like an avalanche, and I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“It’s not even just drinking, Riya. I feel like I’m losing my mind or something. I’m seeing things, and I can’t sleep, and my parents try to be supportive and all, but I feel like they’re making it worse. They don’t even know about all this. I mean, they know I got drunk, but they don’t know that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Rebecca sighed, finally getting a breath. Her chest still felt tight.
“Mmhm,” Riya hummed, thinking. “Well, it seems like you’re trying to lead a double life, Rebecca.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re one person out here in El Paso, and you’re trying to lock half of your problems away and pretend to not have them over there in Hilton Head. Even there, you have your persona from when you were in high school fighting with that. You want to know what I think you should do?”
“What?”
“Come clean.”
“But, Riya, you know what I told you. If my parents found out, that’d be the end of things. Hell, if anyone in El Paso even finds out, my job could be in trouble. Furlough isn’t forever.”
“Many of your problems, like drinking, stem from your trauma caused by the deceit, by these different lives you’re trying to lead and the lies you tell to keep them going. It’s not good. It only brings on stress and chaos. I think you need to just come out and explain everything. It doesn’t have to be by everyone at once. You can even just start with your parents and tell them about AA.”
“You think it would help?” Rebecca asked.
“I know it will if you do it.”
“I’ll… I’ll consider it, Riya. thanks.”
“No problem, girl. Sounds to me like you’re back on the wagon. Am I right?”
“You are.”
“Perfect. Stay beautiful and give me a call next week.”
“I will.” Rebecca hung up her phone, her mind still swimming. Come clean. She wasn’t sold yet, but she would keep her promise to Riya and think about it.
As she glanced at the clock again, she remembered she was meeting Dennis today at his house. Rebecca got dressed and wandered out before her mother was up, which she was now finding as an excuse to talk to her parents later, or not at all.
She tried to take her mind off everything as she drove, but eventually she found the pursuit futile. Fortunately, she arrived at Dennis’s house quickly. Knocking on the door, she found herself looking all around his yard and the sidewalk to see if anyone was there and watching.
Slowly, the door cracked open, and Dennis peeked out. When he saw it was Rebecca, he opened the door and allowed her to slip in. It seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling nervous about everything.
“Hey, Rebecca,” he greeted, a little more at ease now that he had finished fastening all three locks on his door.
“Upgraded your security, huh?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just wanted to be safe.” Dennis gave a weak grin. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, I guess. Where do you want to sit?”
“Is the living room fine?” Dennis led them to the sofa by the coffee table and took a seat on the farthest cushion from the door. Rebecca mirrored him. She was grateful to see no wine glasses or anything. “So, I’ve been writing minimally since I don’t know if Jennifer is going to try to hire a PI to go through my stuff or not.”
“Oh, that’s smart.” Rebecca wondered why she hadn’t thought of that as she hugged her papers to her chest. “I think I’ll start doing that from now on.”
“I would if I were you,” Dennis said. “Anyway, I haven’t really found any red flags on Jennifer yet, nothing that would suggest she had anything to do with killing Chad. She’s definitely devious, but it seems her only goal is to make sure no one gets in her way, and I don’t think Chad was bothering her much back when he was living.”
“Have you asked her about it?”
“A bit, and she said she hadn’t really talked to him, just saw him around and said it was a pity the guy didn’t make anything of himself. What about Bruce?”
“Well, Bruce is definitely obsessed with her. He has pictures of her all over his office, in his car, in his wallet—pretty much anywhere he can hide a picture of her he has. What I can’t tell is if he’s the brain in any way or just the brawn.”
“He was always really smart. He could be both.”
“You’re right. I don’t think he really cares about anyone but Jennifer, though, you know? He looks at everything in the context of Jennifer.”
“I get that feeling, too. He’s pretty crazy about her. Isn’t he?” Dennis’s dark eyes peered into Rebecca’s, looking intense.
“I mean, he has pictures of her everywhere. It has to be more than just thinking she’s hot. Don’t you think?” She scooted slightly closer to Dennis.
“I don’t know. She’s only average for a hot girl.”
“What does that even mean?” Rebecca smiled.
“Not as hot as you.” And soon, Dennis’s lips were pressing against Rebecca’s. He drew in a breath. She leaned in at first but pulled away as soon as she found her sense.
“No,” she said, standing, “we can’t do this.” Rebecca wasn’t about to go down that path again. They crossed that bridge in high school. “Um, I have to go, Dennis. I’ll talk to you soon?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dennis sighed, scratching the back of his head.
Rebecca left before he could say anything else.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Beep!
“Rebecca? Rebecca, please pick up! Please…”
Rebecca stayed planted on the couch. By her count, this was the seventh call from Dennis in under ten minutes. Earlier, her bedroom line had been ringing off the hook, but she’d ignored it, for once. That number wasn’t connected to a machine, so now Dennis had been trying the main line over and over again.
“Look,” his tinny voice said through the machine, “um, I don’t know if you got all of what I was saying earlier because the machine keeps cutting me off,” he said. He sounded anxious. Good. “But, so, like I was saying in the last message, y’know, Jennifer may be—”
Beep!
“Aw, poor Dennis. Cut off again!” Rebecca sighed at the machine.
The phone rang again. After two rings, the machine picked up once again and she heard her parents’ outgoing message once again. “Hi! You’ve reached the Morgans! Sorry we can’t…”
Having to hear that outgoing message drone on was maybe even more annoying than the fact that it was Dennis�
�s fault she had to keep hearing it. Still, she didn’t answer.
She resolved to remain resolute. To protect herself. To make Dennis pay a price for what he did the night before. He’d screwed up, and that’s all there was to it.
Beep!
“Listen, I know I screwed up,” Dennis’s new message began. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made a pass at you. I never should’ve done that, but it’s all so confusing right now, and I just—”
Beep! The machine timed out on him once more. Rebecca said a silent “thank you” in acknowledgment of the piece-of-junk answering machine her parents had purchased.
She looked at the phone. It sat quietly on the end table. Was seven the magic number? Was Dennis all finished?
Maybe I should talk to him, she thought. Then immediately she berated herself. Don’t you dare!
The phone rang again. Time to nip this in the bud, already.
She picked up half-way through the first ring. “Dennis,” she said, her voice stern. “Stop it, okay? I forgive you.”
“Thank God you picked up!” He sounded so desperate. Too bad for him.
“Yes,” Rebecca answered, “and I’m hanging up now.”
“No! Please! Give me one second, okay?”
“I’m busy.”
“I saw someone! I saw someone outside my house!”
Rebecca sat up straight. Her flesh broke out in goosebumps. “Don’t fuck with me, Dennis,” she warned.
“I’m not. I swear.”
She chewed her lower lip, debating with herself. “Alright. Tell me.”
“First, did you hear my messages about… about yesterday? I kept getting cut off.”
“I heard most of it.”
“Well, I am, okay? Really sorry. It was stupid to… I mean, you were there, you know what happened. I’m not, like, trying to get us back together or anything. I’m an underwear model. Right? It’s not like I’m hurting for…” He quickly cut himself off. Rebecca debated hanging up but decided to see if he could recover. “That didn’t come out right,” he squirmed. “I mean, you’re probably not hurting for guys, either. Sexy lady cop. That’s gotta be good for some… Ugh. This is not where I was trying to go!”
“You weren’t trying to dig your way into a deep hole?”
“No! I’m trying to dig myself out!” He sighed into the phone. “I am just trying to assure you that I won’t do it again. Okay? And I’m not about to put any pressure on you or anything else. This is serious. Leave it to stupid old me to mess it up in this kind of a way.”
“Yep. Stupid old Dennis.” Still, she was starting to grin. He was usually so cool, so in control and confident. It was fun to hear him struggle like this.
“Yeah, well. Like I said, this has nothing to do with us getting back together.”
“Understood.” All right. Fun time with Dennis was over. She decided to get back to business. “So, what did you see?”
There was a suspicious pause on Dennis’s end. Then, “Maybe we should talk in person?”
“Dammit, Dennis!”
“Alright, fine, fine, I’ll tell you!” She heard him take a deep breath. “Last night, after you left, I made myself a few drinks. Then I was getting ready for bed. Turning out the lights in the house. When I turned out the light in the living room, I was able to see out the window, into the darkness. And… someone was there. Like, watching me.”
He paused, perhaps waiting to see what she would give away. Rebecca kept her cards close to her chest. There was a chance this was some sort of trick. “Go on,” she said, keeping her tone neutral.
“Well, I freaked for a second, obviously. Because it was like something out of a horror movie. Just a person, kind of shrouded in all black. I couldn’t see a face or anything.”
Rebecca’s stomach tightened. The Shroud! She kept quiet, forcing Dennis to keep going.
“So, I ran outside to confront whoever it was and tell ’em to fuck off!”
“Dennis! That was stupid!” she shouted at him.
“I wasn’t gonna let some nutjob spy on me!”
“I’ve tangled with this person twice. They’re dangerous.”
“Careful, now,” Dennis teased. She could just picture his smirking face. “I might think you cared about me.”
“Professional habit.” She hoped he bought the cover-up. “Protect the citizenry and all that. But let’s get back on track. Shall we? So, what happened after you stupidly ran out to confront whoever it was?” she prompted.
“Nothing. By the time I got outside, they were gone. It all happened super quick. I can’t… I mean, I’m not even sure someone was really there, but…”
“Someone was.” The confirmation popped out of Rebecca. So much for playing it cool.
“It’s just,” Dennis went on, “for a second I felt like I was—”
“Crazy.”
“Yeah.”
They both sat in that for a moment, neither saying anything. Then, Rebecca decided to go all in. “It’s the Shroud.”
“The Shroud?” He sounded incredulous. She sensed he considered the moniker before he agreed, saying, “Yeah, I guess that’s as good a name as any for what I saw.”
“That’s who’s been chasing me. Who has been trying to kill me! I saw them at the restaurant the night we all were out. That’s who I chased out after.”
“Ohh…” she heard the realization dawn on Dennis.
“Then, at the gala, they were there again. Stalking me. They go around with a spear gun. That’s their weapon of choice, apparently.”
“Hold on. I didn’t see any—”
“I’m telling you, Dennis. I was nearly impaled! More than once!”
“Okay, but they had a perfect chance to take me out. Why didn’t they?”
Rebecca came up short at that. It was a good question, and she didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know. Maybe whoever it is knows you’re helping me. Maybe they just want to scare you so I’m all on my own with this.”
“You’re not though.” His voice was full of emotion. “You’re not on your own.”
Hearing his words, tears sprang to Rebecca’s eyes. She tried to hold them back. She wanted to keep Dennis at arm’s length and not let him in. Still, she needed someone. “You mean that?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Listen, whoever that Shroud is has made a gigantic mistake. You don’t try to mess with Dennis.”
Rebecca laughed at his attempt at machismo. It made the tears roll down her cheek. She sniffed. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do? Model some underwear at it?”
“Hey, this is more than just a pretty bod,” he assured her. His voice sounded lighter now, too. “When push comes to shove… I shove back!”
“Oh, okay. Great catchphrase.” She tried to sound sarcastic, but she was too relieved to pull it off convincingly.
He saw the Shroud, she kept thinking. Someone else actually saw the Shroud!
“Rebecca? You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“So… what do we do? How do we go on the offensive?”
“We don’t. Not yet.”
“Okay…”
She could hear he wanted more. So did she. She started forming a plan. “We need to stay on Jennifer and Bruce. I know the Shroud is tied to them in some way. If we keep the pressure on them, maybe they’ll make a mistake. Maybe we can force them into revealing something. Or maybe we find something that lets us take the Shroud by surprise ourselves.”
“Alright. That sounds like a good plan. You’ll call me if you see or hear anything?”
“Absolutely. You do the same. And don’t try to take the Shroud on by yourself, Okay?”
“If push comes to shove…”
“I’m serious, Dennis. Promise me.”
“I promise.” He sounded sincere. It was touching. “You either,” he added.
“I promise,” she said. “Thanks for being persistent and calling back a million times.”
“Thanks for answering. Finally.”
> They hung up, and Rebecca paced the living room. The pieces of the puzzle still refused to come together, but she was obviously getting closer. The fact that the Shroud had revealed itself to Dennis was a good, if worrisome, sign. It meant they were factoring Dennis into their plans, now, as well as her. With their attention divided, it was more likely they’d make a move that revealed themselves.
She wanted Dennis to be safe, of course. Still, his bad news had provided her with something positive.
He saw the Shroud. She wasn’t crazy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Still reeling from the brief bout of possible insanity, Rebecca knew she needed a (well-deserved) night off. Some may argue that being off work for over a month and staying at her parents’ house weren’t nearly compelling enough stressors, but Rebecca figured those people didn’t have dead best friends or murderous shrouded figures in their lives. As she sat on her bed, she took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.
“Relax, Becca,” she said to herself. “It’s not even that big of a deal.” She couldn’t stop her mind from rebutting that everything going on was, indeed, a big deal. “We’re not going to worry about it. Not for now anyway.” She braided her fingers together and closed her eyes. What was stressing out going to do for her, after all? “I need to relax. A bath?” she posited to the orange wood of her bedroom floor. “Bath it is.”
Standing, Rebecca decided she’d go into her parents’ bathroom and snag some of the lavender soaps and bath salts for her soak. She hoped the smells combined with the steam of the water would ease her worries enough for her to try for a decent night’s sleep later.
As she walked through the hall, she noticed her parents’ bedroom door was cracked. Craning her neck through for a peek, she saw her mother was there, splayed pitifully across the fluffy golden comforter. Not wanting to deal with her mother’s emotions if she didn’t have to, Rebecca wondered what would happen if she just slipped by. To her dismay, her mother’s eyes opened at the sound of the bedroom door. That stupid creak.
