She had lunged at him with a kiss before they’d even made it upstairs. And they hadn’t even made it to the bed, so the bathroom counter had to do. He tried to shoosh her several times for fear of the noise, but Naomi was even more vocal than usual.
And then she had made the strangest remark of the evening, after he tried to quiet her again, “Oh, she’d be doing it if she could, so who cares what she hears.”
Then she had spoken in French so he couldn’t understand a word. It was a trick she loved to play on him when she wanted to say the un-sayable right in front of him. It was also extremely sexy. He wasn’t sure she she was actually feeling suspicious, but as he lay there he knew that her sixth sense must have been on overdrive. Women could always tell. She hadn’t been angry about it at least and it certainly hadn’t affected her treatment of Samara. Oh well, maybe Naomi wanted her to hear it.
“God last night was fun.” Her voice came out low and sonorous. She had been watching him think silently the whole time. “Penny for your thoughts, professor.”
“Hey,” he said groggily, “how’s your head?”
“It’ll get better, but I need pancakes stat. Do you think she heard us?” she said whispering.
He looked at the clock. It was 10:47. Samara was sleeping it off too it seemed. He hadn’t heard a peep.
“Nah, not me anyway” he said laughing.
“Ahhhh,” she said laughing back, “I’m not sorry. She looks at you like you are the most interesting thing God ever created ya’ know.”
“Does she? No,” he said protesting.
“Make me pancakes ok? Don’t forget the blueberries,” she said rolling her eyes and falling over into the blankets face down.
Against the white of the sheets her body looked soft, her skin a light butterscotch. He rubbed his hand across the nape of her neck with his finger, then he got up and walked to the bathroom to clear his face in the mirror. All their clothes from the night before were strewn wildly about the room. He put on his pants and a shirt and made his way down the hallway. There was still no sound in the house. He went downstairs as quietly as he could, but couldn’t see into Samara’s room, which was still dark and silent. Pancakes for three then. He walked back upstairs trying to be quiet and stood in the front room overlooking the bay. Birds chirped away and he could hear the whinge of crickets, which reminded him so much of home. He walked into the kitchen to start the pancakes, but his attention was distracted by a piece of paper on the counter. She had gone already then. He picked it up, eyes scanning the page while he rubbed his eyes.
If you want her back, ask your publisher for directions to the pond.
Call the police and you will never see her again.
Come alone.
G.
His hand began to shake and his pulse raced. Holy Jesus. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could and threw open the door. The bed was empty, though the sheets looked like she had slept there. He knocked at the bathroom door franticly. No answer.
“Samara? Are you in there?”
He pushed open the door, but the lights were out and it was empty. He looked back to the bed to the sheet hanging down the side and could see a long smear of what looked like blood. It was not yet completely dry. He bent down holding it in his hand, which was shaking violently. He sprinted up the stairs as fast as he could, his heart racing.
“Naomi!” he shouted. “Get up! I need you to come down here right now. Naomi!” Downy ran to their room and could hear the shower. “Naomi!”
“What is it?” she said emerging from the shower, still dripping with water and towel.
“Put on a robe. Something has happened to Samara.”
Naomi could sense the fear in her husband’s face immediately and ran silently to get her robe as the two of them hurried down the stairs.
“Look at this!” he said shoving the note at Naomi, who read it with a disturbed look.
“What the hell does this mean? Where is she?”
“She’s not in the room. And then there’s this,” he said pulling her along down the stairs.
“Stop pulling me. I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Downy pointed to the sheet.
“Is this, Oh Jesus…”
“What the hell do you think?”
“It looks like blood. Oh Jesus, it’s blood.”
The two of them walked almost unconsciously out of the house to the front driveway, looking back at every step. There was no sign of anyone.
“What do we do?” she said.
He reached for his phone. He pulled up Samara’s number and started dialing frantically.
“We can check at her dorm.”
“We have to call the police now,” Naomi said holding the note.
He stared at the house, not answering her for a moment. “Ok, but not yet. I have some things I need to tell you first, ok?”
“What things?”
“Come inside and hurry. It’s important.”
Naomi frowned as they walked. “What the hell is happening, Noah?”
They stopped on the porch step together, never making it to the door.
“It’s about Charlie,” Downy began. “Something very strange is going on.”
Chapter 29
Sullivan awakened to the smell of brewing coffee and coughing. The girl, he couldn’t remember her name right off, was next to him on the tiny pull out, smooshed against the wall of Tackett’s garage.
“I can’t believe I went on a date to your garage,” she said groggily.
“It’s not even my garage.” he said licking his lips, “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Man you never stop,” she said rolling over.
Her breasts looked even better in the morning light. She kissed him softly. The ringing noise in his ears had finally calmed.
“Nice to meet ya’ stranger.”
She slid off the edge of the tiny cot into her jeans, which were impossibly tight. “I’ll let myself out.”
He lay staring at the ceiling marveling at a girl who could leave like that. He thought of the professor and his wife, their seemingly perfect life. Maybe it wasn’t so perfect after all. He heard Tackett and the girl laughing in the room above him and jumped up pulling on his own pants, the only pair he now owned. The night hadn’t exactly gone as planned. They had only made it to Tina’s truck, where she had offered him a joint. As she handed it over she asked him,
“So what you do, Nick, you know for a livin’?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said.
“That’s silly, of course I do.”
He looked at the joint in his hand. “I’m a cop.”
“Holy shit,” she said cracking up, smoke billowing out of the tinted windows of the truck, coughing.
“Are you kidding?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said flashing his badge without making eye contact. He stared at the joint in his hand. He would need the help sleeping after all that had happened. He had two doubles already and his hands were still shaking.
“Are you like, gonna arrest me?”
“That depends,” he said.
“Depends on what?”
“How good this is,” he answered pulling the joint to his nose for a sniff, then taking a hit.
“Ahhh, goddamn!” the girl laughed. “This is gonna be a fun night. What do I have to do to get handcuffed?” she said suddenly looking serious.
“Drive north on Interstate 5,” he said looking at his phone. “Go left on Via de la Valle and make two rights.”
“Whatever you say, Officer. Whatever you say.”
He replayed the images of the night silently with a sly grin on his face, running his hands through his hair. Tackett came to the top of the stairs yelling,
“There’s exactly one cup of coffee left. Ya’ got thirty seconds before it’s gone,” he yelled. Sullivan appeared yawning deeply at the top of the stairs.
“Before you say a word, that Tina seems nice so keep it on the up and up. I like drinking at tha
t club and if you fuck it up for me--”
“I don’t think you need to worry about Tina” he said laughing. “If anyone got used last night, I’m pretty sure it was me.”
“You know Tierney is going to be so pleased we’re living together.”
“Fuck Bob. I’m done as police, but I want to solve this case before I really quit.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am. Especially about catching this guy. It may be the only way left for me to really spit in Bob’s face, metaphorically speaking of course.”
“Metaphorically, right.”
“Let’s talk about your theory for a minute,” Tackett said grimacing.
“I don’t have a theory, actually. I didn’t mean to give you that impression. I just know when I’m being lied to.”
“Do you really think a college professor is a good candidate as an explosives enthusiast?”
“I doubt it. Ten to one he hired someone to do the job. Maybe he thinks we have the evidence on him and was just trying to get rid of it. It would explain why he warned us beforehand, with the kid; maybe he’d given explicit instructions not to kill anyone.”
“Suddenly he’s grown a conscience after murdering two detectives?”
Sullivan slurped at his coffee. “This is really shitty, you know?” he said wincing as he drank.
“It’s been in my fridge for over a year I think, no shit.”
“Fuck, I’m going to die, aren’t I?” he said spitting dramatically into the sink.
They both laughed.
“Let’s see, you met with him at 10 am right? And before noon the house went up. That’s quick.”
“Maybe he is involved with someone else like I said. Someone he could call right away. Should we tap him?”
“Based on? No chance with Tierney, with as little as you have. I’d tell him nothing by the way.”
“Now I’m answering to Sheppard.”
“Ahhh--daddy’s little tick turd. He’s a sight better than Bob in some ways and worse in others. Good thing is I’m a civilian now. Maybe I need to investigate the possibility of higher education as a building block to my future.”
“What you need is a goddamn decorator,” he said looking around the empty room in disgust. Hang a picture on the wall for God sakes. Here, I’m sending you one right now. Keep me posted on what you find and I’ll let you know what the professor is up to, if anything.”
“Be careful, ok.”
“Of course. I’m gonna check in with Rodriguez, see if the bomb squad has come up with anything.” He walked to the stairs. “I’ll just let myself out through the garage.”
Tackett looked down at his phone. It was a picture from the night before; Tina was flashing the camera, already in her underwear and shirtless.
Ah, to be young again, he thought. And to have a face like the son of a bitch wouldn’t hurt either.
Chapter 30
“What if they’re telling the truth? What if they hurt her?” Downy said looking frightened.
“You’re not suggesting we don’t contact the police? How did they get in to the house?”
They had been to every door. Everything was locked.
“The blood on the sheet, my God they must have kept her quiet, walked her out with a--” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“The garage?”
“It’s the only way.”
He pulled at the garage door but nothing happened. It was stuck solidly in place. He yanked at it with all his strength. It moved only a few inches and then sprung back into place.
“No way, not without us hearing, and how would they get it back down?”
He grabbed his phone again dialing Taber Hall, where all the freshmen students were forced to spend their first year. “Hi, this is Professor Noah Downy calling from the History department. I am checking in on a friend’s daughter who is staying there; we’re having a hard time locating her. If you could have an R.A. check if she is in her room, it would really be really appreciated?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Your name was?”
“Professor Noah Downy, I’m looking for Samara Patterson, a student from my class,” he said shuffling the phone awkwardly. “Her family is having a hard time getting in touch. I’m a friend of theirs and we just want to make sure she is ok.”
He could feel in his heart that it was a wasted call. She wasn’t there and she wasn’t ok.
“I’m ringing her room right now, sir.”
He paced.
“There’s no answer, sir. Let me send Lisa, our R.A. over there; she’s on the laundry floor and it will just take her a couple of minutes. We can stay on the line, ok.”
“Yes, yes, thank you.”
Downy sat next to Naomi, who kept looking around as if she thought they were being watched. She stared back at the note. It was a strange kind of handwriting, somehow too angular and rigid. She was sure someone foreign to English had written it.
“Sir, Lisa is actually at her door now, but there’s no answer.”
“Can she go inside to look, just to be sure?”
“Usually not, but I know you and under these circumstances.”
He could hear the woman telling the RA to ‘just go inside and see if she is there, that’s all.’
“Sir, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Her room is empty, Lisa says.”
“Ok, thank you.”
“Professor, should I contact campus security?”
He realized the call was going to alert the authorities and set off a chain of events that would quickly be out of his control. Just what the note said not to do.
“No, ma’am I don’t think that’s necessary yet, but thank you for your help. We still have a couple of places left to look. If you should see her, could you have her call immediately? She has my number; I am a friend of her family.”
“I’ve seen her; she’s the really pretty dark haired girl right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I will tell her, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Downy gripped the phone. Naomi looked up at him from the note.
“The writing is definitely foreign; it’s English, but the letter shape is Greek or maybe Arabic. This has to be connected to Nazim. Maybe they are being held too, blackmailed somehow.” It made some sense. But who?
“We need to call the police, Noah.”
“We will. The cop I talked to the other day. I can ask him what we should do.”
His phone beeped. He looked down.
“It’s Samara!” he said excitedly. “It’s a text.”
She breathes only because you haven’t made that call.
Come alone.
G.
“Jesus!” he screamed, showing the screen to Naomi, “I need to call Clellon, maybe he knows something.”
“Come inside, it scares me standing out here alone,” she said looking nervously in every direction.
“Let’s go to Woody’s and use the phone there. I don’t feel safe on this line anymore. How else could they know?” he said throwing his hands in the air.
“They’re watching us right now--”
“Yeah ok, let’s go.”
They jumped into the car as fast as they could and sped off. On their back patio at that very moment sat a man in a hat, a cheap tourist’s hat, the kind that makes everyone look like they’re on safari. He propped his feet up on the balcony and turned up a bottle of Downy’s finest scotch for a good long drink.
“Here’s to--to getting things right the second time,” he said.
Chapter 31
The man awoke, eyes fluttering and could feel the beating of his heart against his throat. The ground was cold and hard and his face had been pressed against it for some time. He knew he had been sleeping a long while from the lack of pain in his legs, which had become a feeling so common to him in old age. His eyes were clear now though and if not for his confusion he would swear he’d had the best slee
p of his life. The smell in the room was an odd mix of something burning and something sweet. Smoke, nearly translucent, billowed sideways from the corner of the room and he moved his body up to the sitting position. Where the hell was he? Cast iron bars told him he was not in friendly territory. He remembered the cutthroats from his youth who had taken him. Being a prisoner didn’t frighten him then, but not knowing the nature of the threat did. He was still alive, so there was a good chance someone was planning to ransom him. If it were only revenge he would be dead already. Who on earth would think they could get away with such a thing? He wanted to meet them.
A voice, barely a whisper, echoed from the corner of the room. “Hello my friend.”
He tried to speak in response, but when he opened his mouth only a croak came out, followed by a violent fit of coughing.
“There’s wine over there,” the voice said again, coming out low and deep. His fit lessening, he reached for it, swallowing wildly. The thirst was overwhelming. He had been asleep for a long time indeed. His stomach was empty and pangs of hunger sent waves of nausea through his entire body.
“You can’t eat yet. You’ll get sick.”
“Who are you?” the man finally managed to say, though he still could not see to whom he spoke. Through the smoke a dark figure appeared, cloaked so that he could not see.
“I’m here to watch over you my friend.”
“My friends rarely lock me up. Are you sure we’re friends?”
“Absolutely sure. I’m you’re only friend, in fact. I brought you here to save you.” The cloaked man’s voice was raw and deep.
The image of his nephew suddenly returned, and with it their strange early morning meeting. His begging him to come with him and then--his last memories were of some trick, a deception. He hadn’t anticipated being betrayed by the boy.
“You are with my nephew then?”
“No, not anymore I’m afraid. He is with the gods this night.”
“Dead then?”
“More or less.”
“You speak in riddles and hide your face. If you plan to ransom me let me tell you that you’ll be the richest man in the world for the short time you live.”
Saboteur: A Novel Page 13
