Throw a Double for Spite

by Cherie Mitchell

  ‘I waited and waited but you didn’t come. Jack.’

  Riley stumbled and slammed her thigh painfully into the side of the armchair. She furiously rubbed the spot where it throbbed and burned. Jack! Why had he suddenly replied now and why was he insinuating that it was all her fault? All traces of drowsiness were gone as she typed out her reply.

  ‘I was there! I went to Ward 4 and there was no Room 16. The hospital had no record of admission for anyone called Jack!’

  The screen lit up half a minute later. ‘Are you playing games with me?’

  ‘No, I’m not playing games! Ward 4 is an Oncology Ward!’

  ‘Ward 4 is a General Ward. What are you talking about?’

  ‘What are you talking about? You wasted my time.’

  ‘I waited for you. I was so disappointed when you didn’t show.’

  Riley stared at the screen, breathing heavily with frustration. What was wrong with him? Why didn’t he understand? She tried once more, almost ready to give up, to switch off her phone and go to bed. ‘St Augusta’s Hospital had only one Jack on file, and that was a child. Is Jack your real name?’

  Her phone vibrated. ‘St Augusta’s? What were you doing there? I was at Our Lady of Benevolence.’

  Riley read the message again before shaking her head, laughing now. A huge wave of relief surged through her as she realized just how much she’d wanted to trust him. ‘You said you were at the local hospital. I obviously got it wrong. I never considered you might be someplace else.’

  ‘You should have asked if you were unsure.’

  Now was not the time to question him about her repeated texts and unanswered calls. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m at home.’

  ‘Are you ok? I’m sorry. I really wanted to meet you.’

  ‘I wanted to meet you too, beautiful Riley. Yes, I’m ok.’

  ‘Was it a car accident?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m expected to make a full recovery. Raincheck on that meeting?’

  ‘Raincheck.’

  ‘Sweet dreams, Riley.’

  The screen went dark and Riley thoughtfully leaned her chin on the edge of the phone. Jack was back and it felt right that he was here. His silence had left a hole in her life, one with too many unraveled edges and loose threads. She’d become used to his chatty texts, his witty comments, and his sweet compliments even if she didn’t yet know him in person. Funnily enough, this little misunderstanding had only confirmed her desire to meet him. She grinned to herself - she would certainly double check the meeting place with him before she set off next time.

  She felt a ticklish, sliding sensation at the base of her neck and she lifted her hand to find that her necklace had come undone, probably as a result of her over-enthusiastic application of the facemask. She slid the silky chain through her hand, lifting the necklace to hold the pendant up to the light that fell through the window. The R spun slowly and the tiny diamonds sparkled and gleamed. She watched it for a moment, mesmerized by its prettiness, before re-clasping the chain around her neck. She was about to go to bed when she heard it – a subtle noise from outside the apartment door.

  She stayed where she was, holding herself perfectly still as she listened. Was there someone there? Moving with feather-soft footsteps, she padded across the living room floor, making sure to give the unrelenting obstacle of the sofa a wide berth. She reached the door, checked that the chain lock the locksmith had installed was secure, and stopped to listen again. There it was just inches from her ear, a low shuffling noise or perhaps a dragging sound.

  “Is there someone there?” Her voice was hoarse and she hastily cleared her throat before speaking again, louder this time. “Hello? Is there someone out there?”

  When no response came, she hesitatingly held her eye up to the peephole. Her hearting was beating so fast that she was afraid it might burst through her chest. The section of the corridor that she was able to see was empty. She shifted her position, attempting to gain a wider view. Without warning, her phone beeped in her hand and she squealed, shocked by unexpectedness of the sound. Jack’s text message flashed onto the screen. ‘Do you like to watch scary movies?’

  Riley closed her eyes for a few seconds before taking another quick look through the peephole. There was no one out there, nothing that should raise her suspicions or put her on alert. She leaned her shoulder against the door as she replied. ‘Are you serious? Yes, why?’

  ‘There’s a good arthouse one on Sunday night at the Academy. Meet me there?’

  ‘Do you mean the Academy in Montgomery Square or is there another Academy?’

  ‘Ha-ha. Montgomery Square at 7 pm. Goodnight, lovely lady.’

  There was a crash outside the door and she looked out again. An elderly Asian woman, one of the other residents of the apartment block whom she’d spoken to on numerous occasions, was out there in the corridor. As Riley watched, she stooped to pick up the carton of milk that had fallen from her string bag. She tucked it back into the bag alongside a loaf of bread before unhooking her walking stick from where she’d hung it from her forearm and shuffling away.

  Riley let out a long breath, feeling foolish for being so jumpy. Her earlier equilibrium had fled, along with any desire to sleep. She switched on all the lights in the living room before walking into the kitchen to fill the kettle with water. She made herself a mug of cocoa, added a marshmallow to the foam on top, and carried it across to the coffee table beside the armchair. She went into her bedroom and returned a moment later with a book and a snuggle rug.

  She dropped down onto the comfortable cushions of the chair with a soft sigh and arranged the rug over her knees. She sat the book on her lap and traced her finger over the title. Japanese For Beginners. Perhaps after the movie on Sunday night, she and Jack could go for a drink somewhere and practice their language skills. She settled back in the chair, pulled the blanket up a little higher, and opened the book.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Riley, with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and a few loose tendrils hanging down around her face, hoovered the living room on Saturday morning as the TV played in the background. She had no plans for the weekend, save for her movie date with Jack on Sunday night, but the chance to relax and do nothing would probably do her some good. She switched off the hoover with her foot and bent to roll up the cord as an advertisement rolled across the television screen. She looked up as the Breaking News banner flashed up and the stony-faced presenter stared into the camera.

  “Last night the city’s worst fears were realized when the man known as the Condo Creeper made the deadly transition to Condo Killer.”

  Riley allowed the coiled hoover cord to fall from her hands. She lowered herself down onto the arm of the chair to watch the news item as the shot panned to a street view of an apartment block. The entrance was covered with police emergency tape and police cars blocked the street in front of the building. She held her hand to her mouth and gasped in horror as she recognized the building at the same time as the announcer gave the address – it was less than a block away from here!

  The scene changed again, this time to a close-up photo of a pretty, flaxen-haired young woman with laughing green eyes and a shower of freckles across her nose. The presenter droned on, telling her audience that the victim was a college student and the daughter of a prominent local family with her whole life in front of her. The story went on to give details of the prominent family, although Riley had never heard of them until now. The news item had just turned to the now iconic shot of the folded black clothes and crime kit in a barrel bag when someone banged loudly on Riley’s door.

  Riley squealed, leaping to her feet and tripping over the hoover in the process. She glanced at the TV, where the screen had filled with another lingering pan across the scene outside the apartment building, before hurrying over to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Me. Briar. Are you decent?”

  She slid the chain across on the new lock, unlatched the regular l
ock, and opened the door to Briar’s smiling face. The elderly Asian lady with her walking stick turned a nosey stare into the apartment as she hobbled down the corridor towards the stairs. “Hello Mrs. Wong.” Riley grabbed Briar’s hand and pulled her inside. “I was just watching the update about the Condo Creeper on the news. Have you heard the latest?”

  “Yes, I heard it on the car radio on the way over. It’s scary stuff.” She looked at Riley closely as she closed the door behind them. “I like your hair like that. It’s cute. Sexy.”

  Riley self-consciously tugged at her ponytail. “I put it up while I did my Saturday morning cleaning. It isn’t supposed to be a fashion statement. Do you want a coffee?”

  “No, I’m good for now.” Briar leaned over the back of the sofa to pick up the Japanese For Beginners book that Riley had left there. “How are your language lessons going?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t progressed much further than konnichiwa and sumimasen but I’m working on it.”

  “Hello and excuse me. There’s no argument that they’re useful phrases for a person to know in a foreign country. Watashi wa anata no okiniiri no haro ni, soshite ichiban muzukashī gubbai ni naritai desu.” The words spun off her tongue with ease, as if she’d been born as a Japanese native.

  “Briar! I didn’t know you could speak Japanese!” Riley was shocked by her fluency. Why had Briar never said anything about her knowledge of the language, especially as she now knew of her own interest in the country?

  Briar took a tiny step closer, her eyes on Riley’s mouth as she translated the phrase. “I want to be your favorite hello and your hardest goodbye.”

  Riley giggled nervously and took an involuntary step backwards. “How did you learn to speak it so well?”

  “I took lessons a few years ago. I can’t even remember why I did it – it’s not as if there’s much call for speaking Japanese on a construction site.” Briar shrugged off her leather jacket to reveal a tight fitting apricot-colored camisole top, along with the obvious fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. With her snug black jeans and beautifully made up face she looked incredible, carefree, and a little dangerous.

  Riley was acutely aware of her own frumpy sweat pants and bare face. “You look nice. Are you going somewhere special?”

  “Lunch date.” Briar tossed the book back down onto the sofa. “We’re not meeting until twelve so I thought I’d call in and see you on the way.”

  “Is it lunch with someone interesting?”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

  Riley persisted. “Is it the same person you’ve been seeing or someone new?”

  Briar turned to watch the TV news as the announcer gave her recap on the Condo Killer story. “I haven’t seen this update. Radio news has its limitations.” An identikit picture of the killer, this one more detailed than the one Riley had previously seen yet just as anonymous, served as an illustration to the presenter’s professional, precise diatribe and clipped delivery. “Do those computerized composites ever turn out to look anything like the criminals they’re supposed to catch?”

  “Sometimes.” Riley stared hard at the image of a vaguely cartoon-like character with its thick neck and mean eyes. “He looks kind of familiar. Do you think he looks familiar?”

  Briar snorted. “They all look familiar. Every single criminal composite that I’ve ever seen looks like the guy behind the counter at the local convenience store or the guy pumping my gas. If you want my honest opinion, if we are to believe that is an accurate depiction of the Condo Killer the police should be interviewing every extra who has ever appeared in a bar scene in every B-grade movie made since the seventies.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Riley switched off the TV as the newsbreak ended. “How do you feel about staying in your apartment alone now that this has happened?”

  Briar’s mouth curved into a sly, secretive smile. “If my lunch date works out, I might not be spending the rest of the weekend alone.”

  Riley struggled against a dull thud of envy, the twinge located somewhere around her kidneys. There was no potential lover in her life – oh, except for Jack. She dimpled a smile at Briar. “I’m meeting Jack at the Academy tomorrow evening. We’re going to watch a movie.”

  “So you’ll get to meet him at last. I guess you’re hoping that he doesn’t turn out to be another Steve.”

  “I don’t think he’s anything like Steve. He doesn’t give off that kind of vibe. Did I tell you about the mix-up with the hospitals?”

  Riley told Briar the tale of St Augusta’s versus Our Lady of Benevolence, adding to the story with several humorous exaggerations to draw the anecdote out. Briar laughed heartily in the all right places, sparkling with almost electrical animation. Riley finished the story with a smile. “It’s good to see you laugh again. You seem lighter in yourself. Happier. Has your sleeping improved?”

  “It has. The last few nights have been far less disruptive.” Briar’s phone chimed from inside her jacket pocket and she quickly fetched it and scanned her gaze across the screen. “That’s my date checking in to see where I am. I should go.” She pulled her jacket back on before swooping in to kiss Riley’s cheek. She was wearing a different perfume today, something musky and exotic. “Thanks for lifting my mood with your funny story. Let me know how your date with Jack goes.”

  “I will, and I expect an update on your own exploits after the weekend is done.” Riley opened the door for her friend, serious now. “And take care, ok? Lock your doors securely and don’t go anywhere at night alone if you can help it. I don’t think any of us can feel completely safe until that madman is caught.”

  “You too.” Briar strode off down the corridor and Riley watched her until she reached the stairs and disappeared. She locked the door and went to put the hoover away, all her enthusiasm for an active morning spent cleaning the apartment now completely evaporated.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Riley parked her car outside her mother’s house but she didn’t immediately make any move to leave the vehicle. She had exactly zero motivation to go in and have lunch with Ruth, but when she’d answered her mother’s phone call earlier in the day she was unable to think of any viable reason to say no to the invitation. Morgan and the girls would not be there to offer a distraction as Ruth had advised her they were unavailable and that this would be a chance for just the two of them to spend some time together. In sounded good in theory but Riley didn’t hold high hopes for the outcome. She could already feel her boredom building in anticipation of hearing several of Ruth’s oft-repeated narratives about her innumerable ocean faring vacations.

  A police car sped past at the nearby intersection, its flashing lights and screaming siren disturbing the Sunday peace and causing enough of a commotion to rouse Riley from her inertia. With little enthusiasm, she took her handbag and left the car to walk up the steps to Ruth’s brownstone. Ruth had moved in here several years ago after selling the family home and downsizing. Bill, despite his mediocre wage as a professor, had inherited a sizable sum of money from his parents not long before his relationship with Ruth ended. At the conclusion of the marriage, and following protracted divorce proceedings, he had agreed to sign the marital home over to Ruth along with a generous one-off alimony payment. Riley was not aware of the exact amount of this payment, but she knew it was enough to allow Ruth to forgo working for a living and enjoy as many cruise vacations as she desired.

  The door was ajar when Riley lifted her hand to knock. She pushed it cautiously open. “Mom? Are you there? Why is the door open?”

  “I knew you were due to arrive.” Ruth popped her head out of the kitchen door further down the hallway as Riley stepped into the house. “Latch it behind you, there’s a good girl.”

  “You should be more careful, especially given what’s going on at the moment. I could have been anyone.” Riley walked into the kitchen and waved her hand in front of her face to dispel the bluish haze of smoke in the air. “What’s burning?”

  �
�I got a little distracted by a phone call. It’s ok. We can pick the burnt bits off.” Ruth clunked an oven dish containing two blackened chicken breasts down on the counter. “We can pretend they’re coated with crunchy Cajun seasoning.”

  Riley grimaced at the sight of the scorched meat as Ruth blithely poked the prongs of a fork through the first breast and picked up a sharp knife to cut away the damage. “Your cooking hasn’t improved.”

  Ruth tutted as she attacked the second chicken breast with her knife. “You know I’ve always said that life is too short to stuff a mushroom.”

  “That’s not a mushroom.”

  “You know what I mean. Can you get the bowl of salad from the fridge while I finish up here?”

  Riley left her handbag on the end of the counter and went over to the large refrigerator in the corner. Colorful magnets collected from exotic locations covered every available space on the door, along with a cruise ship itinerary. The bowl of salad, a dubious looking square of cheese, a plastic bottle of mayo, and a half carton of cream were the only occupants of the shelves. Ruth preferred to eat out, stating that there was no point in cooking for herself.

  “Nearly done. I’ll squirt some mayo over the top and we won’t know the difference.”

  “You really shouldn’t have left the front door open. Haven’t you heard the latest? The Condo Creeper is now the Condo Killer. He broke into an apartment and murdered a girl on Friday night.”

  “Yes, I heard about that. The girl who was in hospital died this morning too, although they had warned that her condition was critical. Can you take the cling wrap off the top of the bowl while I put these on our plates?”

  “Aren’t you worried? I still can’t believe you left the door open.”

  “Riley, he’s not interested in breaking into an old lady’s house to have his evil way with the likes of someone like me. The creep only has his eye on the young and beautiful. You should be worried about yourself. Don’t worry about me. Bring the bowl and some salad tongs. We’ll eat in the sitting room.”