by Tim Downs
“Okay, that sounded pretty lame. Who wants to go first?”
No one volunteered.
“She’s not very big,” Yanuzzi said. “What are we afraid of?”
“It’s those dogs of hers I’m afraid of,” Brenton said. “I think if they teamed up they could remove your appendix.”
“We’ll all go together,” Donovan suggested. “We’ll tell her we’re sorry about what happened tonight and we’ll explain how it happened. We’ll tell her we did it all for Nick—she’ll understand.”
They watched as Nick approached her. He barely opened his mouth before Alena turned on him. They couldn’t hear her words, but the look on her face could have filled a dictionary.
Nick walked back and rejoined the group. “She needs space,” he said. “A lot of it.”
“We’re going to talk to her,” Pete said. “This was our fault, and Donovan’s going to take full responsibility.”
“What?” Donovan said.
“We need a spokesman, and you’re elected.”
“Why me?”
“Because this whole ‘bachelor party’ was your idea—and because you have a gun.”
They all followed Donovan over to where Alena was standing.
“Alena,” Donovan fumbled. “Can we talk to you for a minute—without the dogs?”
She turned and glared at them. “Well?”
“We just wanted to explain—”
“Forget it,” she said. “I listened to your statements when you gave them to the police. I know what you all did, and I know the reason why—I just have a couple of questions for each of you.” She turned to Pete first. “That Vidocq Society you and Nick belong to—how often do they get together?”
“Every month,” he said.
“Every single month—but you had to wait until the meeting right before my wedding to pull off this clever little stunt of yours. Did you ever stop to think that maybe your timing wasn’t exactly the best—for me? Or did you even think about me? But it wasn’t enough to make Nick drive to Philadelphia—oh no, you had to pretend to be dead and make him drive all the way to the Poconos. Well, you know what, Pete? I kinda wish you were dead right now—then at least all this wouldn’t have been for nothing.”
Now she squared off with Yanuzzi. “And why is it exactly that you couldn’t tell me Nick was in town? What was it you were so afraid I’d ruin? What did you think I’d do, tell Nick and spoil your little party? You could’ve explained what you were doing—then we both could have had a good laugh and I could’ve gone home and quit worrying. But you didn’t care if I was worrying, did you? You didn’t care if I was wasting my time or even risking my life—you didn’t care about me at all.”
Then it was Brenton’s turn: “And you probably think I should be grateful because you saved my life tonight. Well, I’m not—because you wouldn’t have had to save my life if you hadn’t helped cause this whole thing. You lied to me, Brenton—I asked you if you took a shot at Nick and you told me no. Did it ever occur to you that I was afraid someone was really trying to kill my fiancé? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was afraid? And all you had to do was tell me the truth. But you didn’t care if I was afraid—it was more important to you to protect your little bachelor party.”
Now she turned to Donovan. “And you’re supposed to be Nick’s best man. Does ‘best man’ mean you’re just Nick’s friend? If we’re getting married, aren’t you supposed to be my friend too? Well, you’re no friend of mine, Donovan. You treated me like a child—like I was someone you couldn’t trust. You had to get Nick away from me, like I’m some kind of disease that might mess up his mind or something.”
She looked at the group. “Did any of you ever think about me—for even a minute? You all knew I was in town—you knew I was following Nick around like some pathetic stray cat. Did any of you ever stop to ask, ‘How will this make Alena feel?’ or ‘I wonder how this might affect Alena?’ Do you have any idea how much I’ve worried in the last few days? You should’ve told me—all of you. Your stupidity almost got me killed tonight, and worse than that, you almost got my dogs killed—and I would never forgive you for that.”
Last of all she turned to Nick; she stepped up close to him and looked up into his soft brown eyes. “I know you didn’t plan this, Nick. I know that once you latch on to something you have a hard time letting go—I know that about you. And I know that the reason you came up here was because you thought an old friend was dead, and you wanted to make it right. That’s a good thing, Nick—I don’t blame you for that.” She lowered her voice now. “But what I want to know is why four men had to go to all this trouble just to convince you that you really want to marry me. I thought you already knew that—or didn’t you? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have to stand here like some slab of meat while you decide whether you really want me or not?” She took a step back and looked at him as if he were a stranger. “I don’t care about the rest of these idiots, but you—you’re the one I’m supposed to be marrying. Well, I’m going home, Nick—don’t come after me and don’t call. Don’t call—that’s a joke. If you didn’t call me all week, why would you start now?”
She turned to her dogs and snapped her fingers, then pointed to the ground by her side; the dogs fell in beside her as she started back toward the lake house and her truck. When she got halfway up the side of the excavation she stopped and looked back at the men. “Just for the record,” she called back, “he proposed to me—not the other way around.”
They watched until she disappeared into the trees.
“Nick’s right,” Donovan said. “She needs some space.”
41
VIRGINIA
Nick stopped his car in front of the gate so that his headlights would illuminate the chain and padlock; he got out of the car and left the engine running. The moment he lifted the padlock he noticed that something was different; the padlock was shiny and new—and much larger than the last one. He tried his key just in case he was mistaken, but as he expected, it no longer fit. Alena had been home for less than an hour and she had already changed the lock.
Not a good sign, Nick thought.
Alena had almost an hour head start on him due to the fact that her truck had been conveniently parked at the lake house, while Nick was forced to retrieve his own car from Yanuzzi’s cabin deep in the woods. He drove back as fast as he dared, keeping in mind that it might not be a good idea to get pulled over after two arrests in one week—that would only lead to another night in jail, and this was definitely not the time for another unexplained absence. Alena had apparently made it home long before he did—at least, long enough to find a new lock and secure the gate. Nick couldn’t help wondering when Alena had bought the lock; he wondered if she’d been waiting for an opportunity like this one to use it.
Nick knew there was a second entrance to Alena’s compound, but it was on the opposite side of the property; that meant he would have to drive back down to Endor, around the base of the mountain, and back up again—and that would take forever. Besides, what was the point? If she locked him out on this side, he probably wouldn’t find the road lined with palm branches on the other. No—Nick knew there was only one way to get into Alena’s compound, and he knew what it was; he knew because he’d done it before.
I sure hope it goes better this time.
He shut off his engine and left the car parked on the gravel path. The night was dark and starry and there was very little moonlight to see by; he had to wait a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness before beginning to work his way along the chain-link fence.
He knew that it didn’t really matter where he chose to cross; the fence completely encircled Alena’s property and her trailer was in the exact center, making every point on the fence roughly equidistant from his goal. Nick just looked for a spot with adequate clearing on the opposite side, then climbed to the top of the chain-link fence, swung his legs over, and dropped into the tall grass.
He
headed straight into the woods, pushing aside lowhanging branches and stomping his way through the thick underbrush, making no attempt to be stealthy. He wasn’t trying to surprise her, and he knew it wouldn’t matter even if he was; he had about as much chance of sneaking up on Alena as a water buffalo walking on cornflakes. Alena had grown up in the woods and she was attuned to all its natural sounds—and Nick wasn’t one of them. He knew she would detect his presence long before he even got close to her trailer—and if somehow she didn’t, he knew they would.
Within minutes he heard footsteps padding along in the woods on both sides of him. When he stopped, they stopped; when he started again, they did too—only their footsteps grew closer each time. He gradually became aware of footsteps following behind him too; soon all three animals appeared from out of the darkness of the woods, gradually boxing him in until he could no longer take a step forward without risking attack.
Two of the dogs Nick didn’t recognize, but he definitely knew the big one. “Hey, Dante,” he said in his friendliest tone, but the dog showed no sign of warmth or even recognition; he just stared back at Nick with a look inherited from ancestors who had prowled in packs like this one thousands of years ago. The dog’s dead-cold gaze sparked a primal feeling deep inside Nick—a sobering reminder that despite his advanced brain and superior knowledge, right now he was just something made of meat.
There was nowhere to go, and there was nothing to do—so Nick just looked ahead into the woods and waited.
Half an hour went by . . .
“I know you’re there, Alena,” he finally said.
There was no reply.
“There’s no use pretending. I can hear your teeth grinding.”
Still nothing.
“Come out and talk to me. Please? Don’t make me send my dogs after you.”
A small voice from somewhere in the darkness said, “You’re not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny—I’m trying to talk to you.” He took a step in the direction of the voice; when he did, Dante crouched low and bared his teeth.
“Do we really have to do the dog thing again?” he asked. “I just got my neck dried off from the last time.”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m still deciding.”
“I was hoping we were past that.”
“I was hoping a lot of things,” she said. “They didn’t happen either.”
“Please—come out and talk to me.”
“I’m good right where I am. I told you not to follow me.”
“I didn’t follow you—I just came back. I told you I would.”
“You told me you’d call too.”
“I can explain about that.”
“Don’t bother—I already know. You were in jail; you lost track of time; you were in the mountains and there was no cell phone reception.”
“Exactly.”
“Funny, I had the same problems here: I live in the mountains, there’s no cell phone reception . . . So you know what I did? I packed my bags and drove all the way to the Poconos—that’s how bad I wanted to talk to you. But you didn’t care about talking to me. Don’t deny it—I’ve seen you walk through fire to get what you really want. You didn’t call because you didn’t want to.”
“That’s not true. I just got . . . distracted.”
“What are you doing here, Nick?”
“I came to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For making you drive all the way to the Poconos.”
“You didn’t make me—I decided to.”
“I mean for making it necessary.”
“It wasn’t necessary—I just did it. Try again.”
“I’m not the bad guy here,” Nick said. “This whole ‘bachelor party’ thing was Donovan’s idea. If Pete hadn’t invited me to Philadelphia, I never would have left Endor. If they hadn’t faked Pete’s death, I never would have driven to the Poconos.”
“You know what Gunner always tells me? Take responsibility for your own actions. I always hate it when he says that, but you know what? He’s right—if you don’t take responsibility for your own actions, you never grow up. Nobody makes you do anything, Nick—we all do what we want. Nobody made you go to Philadelphia; nobody made you drive to the Poconos. You went because you wanted to, and I went after you because that’s what I wanted. Problem is, we seem to want different things.”
“Something happened to me tonight,” Nick said. “When I was kneeling on that cabin floor with a gun to the back of my head—suddenly everything became clear. There’s something about death—it has a way of clarifying your priorities. I know what I want now, Alena.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Nick. But what I can’t understand is why somebody had to put a gun to your head before you could figure it out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you said that. Sorry for what?”
“You know—for . . . everything.”
“You don’t even know what to apologize for, do you? You don’t even know what you did wrong.”
“Tell me.”
“I shouldn’t have to.”
“Look, we’ve got two choices here: Either you can tell me what’s bothering you, or we can both stand here while I play Emotional Jeopardy—‘I’ll take Hidden Emotions for a hundred, please.’ ”
“Trust me, Nick, this is really not the time to be a wise guy.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated.”
“You’re frustrated?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, okay? I’m sorry I interrupted the wedding plans.”
“Not even close.”
“Is it that I made you dig your own grave? Because every couple goes through that.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?”
“Please—just tell me.”
Alena lowered her voice to a whisper. “I had to chase you.”
“What?”
“Do you know what I really want, Nick? I’m talking about way down deep inside . . . I want to be pursued—maybe that’s what all women want when it comes right down to it. I want a man to come after me—and I want him to keep on coming after me, even after he’s got me, ’cause that’s what makes me feel special. That’s what I want, Nick—I want you to chase me and keep on chasing me right up until the day one of us drops dead. I’ve been chasing things, hunting things, tracking things all my life; I guess I just want somebody to chase me for a change. Do you think that’s asking too much?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good—’cause neither do I. But I had to chase you—before we even got married—and if you won’t chase me now, you sure won’t do it later on. That’s what you did wrong, Nick—you made me chase you.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “If it makes you feel any better, you sure are good at it.”
“It doesn’t—but thanks anyway.”
“Can I ask you something? When you went to that lake house looking for me—why did Malone let you in?”
“Have you even been listening to me?”
“I’ve heard everything you’ve said—I’ve just been thinking about this all night. Why did he let you in? What did you tell him?”
“I told him I was there to fix his bedroom wall.”
“And he believed you?”
“You’re not the only one who knows how to lie.”
“How did you explain the dogs?”
“Protection. Haven’t you heard? I’m a defenseless woman.”
“Noah told me you sent him photos of puparia. He said you took them with your cell phone.”
“I figured the stupid phone must be good for something.”
“And that’s how you knew the home-care nurse was negligent?”
“I already knew that.”
“How?”
“I had Trygg check the bedroom. She alerted twice—once on the carpet and once on the mattress. Malone said they found the old man on the floor; that meant somebody moved the body to the bed and back again. I figured that
had to be the nurse.”
“Why didn’t you tell somebody?”
“I wasn’t there to solve a crime, Nick—I was there to find you.”
“You knew before I did,” Nick said. “What an amazing woman.”
Alena’s next words came out in a muffled sob. “Are you just figuring that out now?”
“Alena,” Nick said. “Come out here—let me see you.”
“Go away, Nick.”
“C’mon—we’re getting married tomorrow, aren’t we?”
There was a long silence.
Nick stared into the darkness. “Aren’t we?”
“I was so sure about you,” she said. “Every step of the way—I was so sure. Now I’m not sure what I want. Funny, isn’t it? I was sure and you weren’t; now you’re sure and I’m not. We can’t seem to get on the same page.”
“We’re on the same page,” Nick said. “I know what I want now.”
“Well, I’m not sure I do.”
“Everybody’s going to be at the church,” Nick said. “They’ll be expecting us to show up.”
“That’s a lousy reason to get married.”
“I just mean everything’s ready. We did all that work.”
“I think we did the wrong kind of work. People spend so much time getting ready for a wedding; nobody thinks about getting ready for a marriage.”
“I’m ready.”
“Are you? I’m not sure I am—not anymore.”
Nick didn’t know what to say.
In the silence that followed all the sounds of the woods became audible: the chirping of the wood crickets, the soft rush of wind through the leaves, even the rhythmic panting of the dogs as they stared up at their captive. The sounds were no louder than they were a moment before; they were simply amplified by the absence of human voice. Nick finally spoke: “The wedding’s at six, Alena. Are you going to be there?”
“I don’t know. I need some time.”
“Well—I’ll be there. I just want you to know that. No trips to Philadelphia this time, no bachelor parties, no distractions, no excuses—I know what I want, and I’ll be waiting for it at that church.”
