by C. J. Thomas
“I’ll check in with him. I mean, the guy just got in for the day. I know he’s on his way to her place.”
“Shit!” It might have been too late already. If she called Julia to ask for a meeting, odds were she’d already left. I might’ve missed her completely. “Okay, have him call me the minute he finds out anything—even if her car isn’t at her house.”
“Will do.” I hung up, immediately calling Julia. There was a chance I could still reach her in time.
“Come on . . . come on . . . answer, dammit.” Nothing. The call went to voicemail. What were the odds she’d gotten there already? The first time in the history of LA traffic that she’d sailed right through?
I started out for the station. I would think more clearly there, and be able to put together a plan to bring Margo in for questioning as soon as we found her.
As I drove, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d just let Julia walk into a trap.
I had to get to Margo first, before it was too late.
151
Julia
THE CAB RIDE to my apartment was uneventful, except for the fantasizing I allowed myself to do while I waited to arrive. I was finally able to take a minute and mentally relive the night with Dan.
I’d never been so brazen before. I’d never let a man talk me through touching myself. It was so new, which only added to the excitement. He was so good at exciting me, too. We were perfect for each other that way.
We were perfect for each other in a lot of ways.
Stop thinking that. Don’t lead yourself down this road.
I knew only pain could come from thinking about Dan as anything more than a fling—especially if he didn’t share my feelings. I was convenient, available, and vulnerable as hell. Ripe for the picking, so to speak. Once Emelia’s case was closed and we didn’t have an excuse to spend time together, we’d be over. It was as simple as that. As simple and as disappointing.
I wished we could sit down and talk it through like two grownups instead of feeling like I had to step carefully around the fact that I was falling for him.
What a mess.
A fun, sexy mess, but a mess just the same.
The cab slowed to a stop and I was surprised when I looked around to find myself in front of my apartment building. I couldn’t help casting a baleful eye up toward my front window. How quickly that apartment had come to symbolize fear.
I used to consider it my haven, my escape from the big, bad world. It was the one place where I could be myself, shutting out the rest of the world with a glass of wine and an old movie. When I was working on a story, of course.
I would never feel safe there again. There were too many negative memories associated with it now.
Where would I go? I thought about the different neighborhoods in town as I slid behind the wheel of my car. I’d need something affordable, but up to my usual standards. I wouldn’t live in a hovel—especially after spending only a couple of days at Dan’s, which ruined me for tiny apartments forever.
I couldn’t help the satisfied smile that escaped my lips when I closed the car door behind me—it had been so long since I drove myself around. It was little things like that—having the freedom to come and go as I pleased—that I’d missed most in the few days since my life spiraled out of control.
You have Dan. Yes, I had Dan. I also had what amounted to a shit-storm of insanity knocking on my door. A murder case, a burglary, unexpected visitors, a deadline I felt tightening around my neck like a noose.
I didn’t know who to trust anymore.
Except for Dan. Yes. I still had Dan. And I smiled softly when I thought about him. Hadn’t I warned myself against getting too close to a cop? And what happened? We were sleeping together. Way to go, Julia.
I giggled, pulling my hair into a loose bun and checking my reflection in the rearview mirror before starting the engine and pulling out of the garage.
Yes, I’d let things get out of hand with Dan, too. As fun as it was—and it was very fun, pruned fingers and all—it was way more than I’d expected, more than I’d ever planned on. He made me break all my rules.
I had to get a stronger grip on my life, was all. I told myself this as I pulled out of the garage, onto my street.
Or, it was my street, before I emotionally disconnected myself from the apartment and anything to do with it.
It was a sad feeling. A feeling of loss. Was it wrong to let the creep who broke in take away my happiness like that? Was I letting him win?
I was. I could admit it.
I also couldn’t do anything about it. I wouldn’t force myself to stay there when all it symbolized was vulnerability.
Where would I live? I thought it over. There were plenty of affordable places nearby. I couldn’t ask Mia for her advice since she was rich and completely out of touch. I couldn’t ask Dan, either, for the same reason.
I started a little at the thought of his name.
Dan . . . new living arrangements . . .
“No,” I said aloud, glancing into my own eyes in the mirror. “Absolutely not. It’s not going that far. You’re too smart for this, Julia.”
My voice of reason was right, of course. There was no way Dan and I would work out long-term. He was great, and he helped me more than I could say when I needed him most.
That was it, though. As far as it could go. I wouldn’t be one of those women waiting for my man to come home, dreading a phone call from his partner or the hospital. Wondering if this would be the night he wouldn’t make it.
That was the whole reason I’d avoided dating him in the first place. I couldn’t go back on my rules just because the sex was better than great.
Besides, we were too different. He was an early riser. A go-getter. I was the queen of hitting the snooze button until I eventually gave up and threw the clock to the floor. He was a cook, I was . . . not a cook. I might have traveled in elite circles thanks to my job, but I was more than comfortable sitting on the sofa in my sweats, laptop open, drinking wine while I worked. Dan struck me as the type who preferred going out, living life among the rest of the world. We’d be bored with each other in no time, and our friendship would end.
I didn’t want to lose that.
You don’t have to. What are you really afraid of? I wasn’t completely sure, but I had a suspicion it had to do with getting my heart broken.
I pushed all that mushy stuff from my brain since there was more than enough to worry about.
I hated feeling so out of control. It felt like everything around me depended on other people, rather than on me.
My safety, for one. My living arrangements. Even my job, since I wasn’t quite finished the story yet. When I was finished, I would push it through with a heavy heart.
Normally, with a story so big, I would be proud and relieved to move it through to the next phase. Instead, I worried about whether Austin was right—that too many skeletons would come to light if I went through with it.
And Dan’s voice rang in my head, advising me to hold off until he was more certain of the case. I never had such doubt before, and I hated it.
I was so busy feeling lost and sorry for myself that I almost didn’t notice when the hair on the back of my neck rose to attention. This time, it wasn’t Dan doing it to me. It was my instincts, fairly screaming in warning.
I glanced in the mirror, checking out the traffic around me. I didn’t see anybody who looked suspicious, but I still had the feeling somebody was following me. Was it possible?
“What’s happening?” I asked aloud to nobody. The voice on the radio crooned about smoke getting in your eyes, so he wasn’t any help to me.
It was just me—the way it always was.
I had nobody to rely on but me.
So I needed to get my head screwed on straight before I really lost my top.
I kept an eye on the cars behind me as I made my way to the drive-in. It hadn’t been used in at least two decades and I, like most of the city, didn’t understand why s
omebody hadn’t purchased the lot and razed the entire thing. Drive-in movies had gone the way of the dodo ages ago, when the multiplex came into fashion. I didn’t even remember ever going to one. But the old theater still stood, chock-full of weeds and broken glass and God only knew what else. I didn’t like to think too much about it or I might get depressed.
The idea of meeting in such a desolate place didn’t do much for my mood. I felt like a piano wire pulled too tight, about to snap. I was clenching my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Something my orthodontist used to give me grief over, something I’d thought I’d gotten over. I’d never felt so completely exposed before, so vulnerable.
“Get it together,” I muttered, taking a deep breath while navigating traffic. It was still rush hour, still busy on the roads. I thought about the people on their way to work, probably cursing their boring existence.
I would’ve paid money to be as boring as them right about now.
Dan hadn’t looked happy when I told him I was meeting with Margo. I hated to think he might’ve been right. I wished I hadn’t told her I would, or that we should meet somewhere less . . . faraway. The theater was clear on the other side of town. Did we really need to meet in such a remote location?
I thought about calling Dan. Should I? Maybe I should call him.
No, I’d feel like an idiot for calling him—it was what he wanted me to do. It wasn’t that I thought he was wrong, per se, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of proving him right.
Stubborn? Maybe. Stupid? Quite possibly.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, then rubbing it over my neck to calm the hair standing on end. There wasn’t anybody following me. My instincts were off-center. I needed to have them calibrated or something. It was all too ridiculous and I was scaring myself.
What would Dan tell me to do? Call him, first. After that, though? He would tell me to watch my back, to trust no one, to take my time and not jump to conclusions. I pretended he was with me, and even the thought of his presence added calm to my mood.
What would I do without him? I had no idea. He was too much a part of my mind and my heart. My body responded at the thought of him, at the memory of his hands and body and mouth. He affected me like no other man ever had. I couldn’t imagine being without him.
The thought startled me, but it was no less true. I couldn’t imagine being without him anymore. He had gone from a harmless flirtation, a man I had a crush on but saw nothing happening with, to a big part of my life.
I couldn’t go back.
Nor did I want to.
Where would I be if it weren’t for him? I might be dead, for all I knew. He was always ready to run to the rescue, his gun drawn if necessary.
That was what made him so damn amazing.
I remembered seeing him charge into my apartment after I called for help, like he was ready to take on the world for me. He was the man I needed in my life, somebody who was ready to take on anyone on my behalf. Somebody I could trust and rely on.
I needed him to be mine.
I turned off the freeway when I reached my exit, my heart beating just a little harder the closer I got to the theater.
What did Margo have to tell me?
Where would we go from here?
Would this be the end of the insanity?
I certainly hope so.
Would there be an end to Dan and me after it was all said and done?
I certainly hope not.
What a selfish thought, but I couldn’t help it. It was Emelia who brought us together. Were we strong enough to stay together even when there wasn’t an emergency throwing us together? Did we have enough between us to make it work?
I was afraid the answer was no.
152
Julia
NOTHING FELT RIGHT about meeting Margo here.
The theater was just as depressing and ominous as I remembered from the one or two times I’d driven by in the past. Broken concrete, crumbling asphalt, weeds as far as the eye could see.
I wondered what it had looked like in its heyday, when big movies were shown as double features with lesser, B-pictures. How many people had made out in gorgeous old cars in front of the screen? How many little accidents had been created there?
Even in the middle of one of the tensest situations of my life, I had to smile. That was one thing today’s multiplexed simply didn’t offer.
Imagining the theater’s former glory only made its current state more depressing. The old speakers, one for each parking space. The concession stand, boarded up, probably home to rats long after it served its last bag of popcorn. Broken lights which used to glow in the darkness like a beacon, drawing in customers like moths to a flame.
My writer’s imagination burned at the thought of what it used to be like there.
Once I got over the immediate sense of awe, I faced a startling—and uncomfortable—realization: I was alone.
“Where is she?” I muttered, looking around.
I no longer felt like somebody was following me, which was a relief. It would have been nice if Margo were around somewhere, though. It wasn’t exactly the sort of place I wanted to sit and relax in.
I was sure Sal would be calling soon, too, screaming at me, wondering where the article was and why he hadn’t seen a draft yet. I was supposed to be finished by the end of the day. I couldn’t exactly tell him I was meeting with “the enemy,” which was how any writer for any other paper or magazine was regarded.
I turned off the engine, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. It was a comfortable day, so I left the windows rolled down to let the breeze blow through.
On any other day, I would be happy, smiling, delighting in the weather. Instead, I noticed how the overgrown weeds blew back and forth, how paper bags and food wrappers rolled across the asphalt like tumbleweeds.
What a place for me to wait for Margo.
What would I say when she got there? It depended on what she had to tell me. It was likely something pretty serious. I hoped he hadn’t hurt her. Maybe she had some evidence against him—it might help the article, or it might be more proof as to why I had to leave him alone.
I chewed my lip. Where the heck was she?
Wait—did he find out she was meeting me and try to hurt her? Was she standing in his way, just like Emelia had? Was she already hurt, or dead?
My mind raced through the different scenarios. None of which I wanted to dwell on for too long.
I shuddered, my hand shaking as I reached for my phone. I dialed Margo, praying she would answer and give me some excuse about traffic. I waited with closed eyes as the phone rang . . . and rang . . . and rang.
“Dammit!” I wanted to throw the phone aside when her voicemail picked up. I’d never felt so completely useless in my life. I had nothing to do but wait. How long should I wait before I gave up and left?
I couldn’t leave her. Not with what I knew about Austin.
Should I go to the police? I picked up my phone again, considering it. I should call Dan, at least. Yes. That was it. I’d tell him where I was, and that I was waiting. He could at least wait with me, if nothing else.
Just as I was about to hit the green button to place the call, a glint of light caught my attention. It was the sun reflecting off a windshield. The car had just pulled into the lot through a different entrance, too far away to see clearly but surely Margo’s. I didn’t think many people made it a point to be there—at least, not in daylight. It carried the distinct vibe of a place people met to keep things quiet and out of earshot from the public eye.
The sooner I got out, the better. Then I could learn what she needed to share, and I could get on with my day. I still had so much on my plate with so little time to get it done.
I stepped out of the car, leaving everything inside, and shut the door. I stretched slightly, having sat there for nearly a half hour while I waited. My muscles groaned in protest. I waited for the car to cross the wide lot, nearly breathless with anticipation.
My phone rang. I turned, looking in through the open window. Dan. I bent, leaning in with the intention of picking up.
The screeching of tires on asphalt stopped me. Just as I straightened and turned around, a pair of strong hands grabbed me by the arms. I didn’t have time to think or even scream before something big, heavy and hard hit me over the head.
I didn’t black out—instead, everything around me took on a hazy, blurry look. My legs didn’t work the way they should have, my knees turning to water. I couldn’t make my feet move, even as every thought in my head was turned to the desperate need to escape. And always, always the bright, searing pain where the object made contact with my skull.
The car’s trunk was open. Those strong hands dragged me to it, threw me inside.
My world went black.
I blacked out before the trunk slammed shut.
153
Dan
“COME ON, Julia. Where the hell are you?” I hadn’t gotten to the station yet and already I’d called her four times.
She didn’t answer.
The first three calls rang through to voicemail. By the time I placed the fourth call, the phone was off. It went straight to her outgoing message.
Somebody turned it off. I highly doubted Julia would, since she promised she would call me as soon as she finished her meeting.
What the fuck?
“Something’s wrong,” I said out loud. For the third time in as many days, I slapped the dome light on top of my car. This shit wasn’t right. I was beginning to wonder why I ever took it off in the first place. It was getting more use than it ever had, and that was never a good sign.
She was in trouble.
I knew it in my bones.
I could feel it.
It was inevitable, the way she carried on. She had to pay for her stubbornness eventually. Up until then, nothing too bad had happened.
Her luck had finally run out.
I told myself to stop being morbid, but there was no helping it. All the signs were there. I’d seen stuff like this before. Julia never turned off her phone like that—in fact, she’d joked about always being available, day or night, just in case somebody called with a hot tip or a new story. She definitely wouldn’t turn it off at such a tense, dangerous time.
