by Meli Raine
Back home, I unpack the groceries, turn on my laptop, and chill out by binge watching “House of Cards.” The creep factor goes up by a huge amount by the end of the first season, so I switch to an Irish comedy about an old housewife played by a man. By the end of the second episode I nearly pee my pants laughing.
I wish Amy were here to watch this.
I really don’t need to be challenged right now. I just want to be entertained. I need to escape from my own life. More importantly, I need to get out of my own head.
I fall asleep sitting up, the empty pint of ice cream in my hands, my mind filled with dreams of wizards.
Chapter Twenty-four
I wake up to a blacked-out screen on my laptop and a wicked pinched neck. My phone is quiet. Birds chirp outside.
I guess Mark didn’t come home last night.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I stretch slowly, imagining blood flowing to the painful part of my neck. When I was little and got cramps in my legs, Dad always told me to do this. Imagine the blood flowing there. Brian would tease him and tell him it was new age bullshit, but it works. It always works.
I make some coffee and look outside just in time to see Mark pull up in his little black Toyota, the car he owns. It’s weird to see him driving in anything other than a police car.
He slams on the brakes right in front of my trailer.
“CARRIE!” he bellows, running for my door, then stopping short.
Now that’s what I call a welcome.
“Hey!” I call out through my window, reaching for the door.
“DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR!” he shouts, grabbing a phone and taking pictures of...my trailer?
“What’s going on?”
A woman screams. It’s Elaine, from the left of my trailer, over by the house.
“What the fuck?” cries out Brian. “Carrie, what is this?”
It hits me that something is very, very wrong outside my trailer door.
“What’s going on?” I call out.
“Oh, my God, is it dead?” Elaine screams.
It is dead?
Is what dead?
Scuffling sounds on my door erupt for seconds, then I see Mark backing away, carrying some sort of animal. I reach for the lock, unlock it and go outside.
Mark’s on the ground, holding a ginger-coated animal, and prying its jaws open.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
“Is that Wizard?” I screech, running to him.
Mark’s pounding on the dog’s chest. There’s no blood, but the dog isn’t breathing, his eyes popping out like they’re about to fall and roll away.
“Open his jaws,” Mark orders. I reach over without thinking. If he weren’t limp, I’d never touch Wizard’s mouth, but under the circumstances, I act.
I don’t think.
Mark reaches in and pulls on something. Snap. Tries again. Snap. Tries once more, face screwed up in concentration.
And then a long, fat ball of rubber comes out of the dog’s mouth.
Just as Mark snatches the thing away, Wizard comes to life.
And boy is he pissed.
“Arf! GRRRRRRRRRR,” Wizard barks, back rising. He’s ready to attack Mark, who is on the ground, defenseless. He drops the balloon thing he’s just pulled out of Wizard’s mouth and the dog’s legs tighten, pulling back slightly.
Without thinking, I throw myself between Mark and the dog. Elaine screams my name. Red and blue lights appear suddenly.
And Wizard lunges, aimed straight for my face.
I fall, tripped by a vicious grab from Mark, my ankle bending with a sickening rip as my body bangs into the driveway. Mark rolls over me, turning us into a human Tootsie roll, rolling our bodies until we’re under the trailer.
Wizard yelps and regroups, turning back to face us.
And then I see Elaine making kissing noises. “Here, doggy doggy,” she calls to Wizard.
Oh, no. What is she doing?
Her hand is outstretched. I see a piece of lunchmeat in it. “Doggy doggy! Good doggy,” she says, as Wizard’s body relaxes. His ears go down, then perk up. He looks at Elaine and walks slowly toward her.
His tail starts to wag.
Elaine drops the meat and he bends his head down to eat it. An animal control officer appears and loops a leash over poor Wizard’s head.
“He bite anyone?’ she asks. She’s wearing strong elbow-length gloves and carrying what looks like a taser.
“NO!” I shout. “No one!”
Mark belly-crawls out from under the trailer and stands, marching over to the thing he pulled out of Wizard’s mouth.
“Jesus Christ,” he says with a puff of air. “That’s one hell of a big balloon to stuff down a dog’s throat.”
“What is it?” I ask. The dirt under the trailer tickles my bare belly. I don’t have any strength in my legs or arms. I can’t crawl out. I can’t move. I just lay there and try to make the massive pounding in my head go away.
“Not sure, exactly. But there’s quite a lot of it.”
I hear an officer make a low whistle. I look up. Chief Cummings and Murphy are out there with Mark.
“Where the hell did that come from?” the chief asks. He motions to some uniformed officers, who begin putting yellow POLICE DO NOT CROSS tape everywhere.
“The dog.”
“Quit fucking with me, Paulson,” the chief snaps.
“Not fucking with you. The dog was hanging by its collar on Carrie’s doorknob when I pulled up. Got the dog off, found the obstruction. Reached in, got the balloon out, and it started breathing.”
“No doggie mouth to mouth?” Murphy mutters.
“Shut the fuck up, Murph,” the chief snaps. He bends down and tilts his head, his attention now on me.
“Carrie?” Mark asks, turning around. The three men’s faces are all I can see now, other than Wizard and a bunch of ankles.
“Yeah?” I say in a breathy voice. It’s hard to talk. Someone hung Wizard by the collar on my doorknob? Why? Who would try to kill him? And if Mark hadn’t pulled in at exactly the right time, who knows what could have happened.
And what is in that balloon thing?
Murphy moves away from Mark and the chief to talk into his walkie-talkie. I see him grimace. He comes back to them, then looks at me.
I’m staying put.
“Uh, that was a call from Ignatio Landau, reporting his new dog stolen.”
“Stolen?”
“Yeah. Claims he thinks—” Murphy shakes his head and lets out a long, slow sigh. “Thinks Carrie did it.”
“Me?” I squeak. “Why would I steal his dog?”
“He says you didn’t approve of how he planned to train it and were really insistent. His daughter and his dog trainer back him up. Now the dog’s missing. And...” Murphy splays out his hands and spreads them, as if to say Landau is right.
That makes me crawl out from under my trailer. “He’s LYING!” I scream. “I would never steal a dog!’
“Is it true you delivered the pit bull to him yesterday and said you didn’t approve of how he was planning to train it?’
“His guy Frenchie said he was going to teach it to fight! He had a bunch of other dogs in the—”
Mark is staring at me like I’m a fascinating specimen in a lab. Or an animal in the zoo.
“Did you just say ‘Frenchie’?” he asks.
“Yeah. And then Dean Landau said he was going to—”
“You went to the Landaus’ house yesterday? And you saw Frenchie there?” His voice is increasingly incredulous.
“I’m trying to tell you what happened!”
“And you went alone?” Mark looks like he’s about to go nuclear.
He grabs me by the upper arm and pulls me to the side of the trailer. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Carrie? Do you not listen to a single fucking word that comes out of my mouth? I told you to stay the fuck away from Landau, Claudia and Eric!”
“I haven’t gone anywhere near Eric
!” I protest.
His jaw tightens. “That’s not funny. You took a dog from the shelter to the Landau’s house and delivered him alone?”
“We were short staffed.”
“And now that dog is found nearly dead, on your door, after you told Landau you didn’t approve of how he planned to train it?”
I just stare at him.
This is not how I’d envisioned his homecoming.
“This is going to take so much work to unravel,” he hisses. “How the hell am I going to get you out of this?”
“Me? What do you mean? I didn’t do anything wrong. I would never, ever, in a million years hurt a dog!”
“I know that, and you know that, but it looks like Landau set you up, Carrie. Those are drugs in that balloon in the dog’s mouth.”
“Drugs? Like...drugs drugs?”
“Heroin. Coke. Who knows? They’ll have to test it. But that’s a drug mule balloon.”
I’m stunned into silence.
“And now you’ll be questioned at the station.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because it looks like you stole a dog and fed it drugs, Carrie,” says the chief, who appears suddenly. “But you’re not the only one in this screaming fit between the two of you who’s in trouble.”
“What does that mean?” Mark’s question sounds like it’s made of knives all pointed at the chief.
“Eric Horner is officially missing. And the last known sighting of him involved you threatening him, Officer Paulson.”
We both look over at Murphy, who turns bright red and closes his eyes.
“Oh, please,” Mark says with a snort. “I didn’t threaten the guy.”
“Your exact words, according to witnesses, were ‘I’ll make you regret it’. That’s a threat.”
“Chief—”
“Shut it, Paulson. I know you’ve been under a lot of strain with your dad dying.”
Mark’s mouth goes tight.
“And this hasn’t been the best week for you, either, Carrie. But I have to take you both in for questioning.”
Mark pulls the chief aside. I watch Murphy as he confers with the animal control officer. She’s someone new. I normally know all the names of the animal officers, from working at the shelter, but not her.
So much has changed.
Mark and the Chief are in each others’ faces now. I hear a handful of words.
“...danger....”
“...set-up....”
“...her father...”
“...couldn’t prove it three years ago, but now....”
Finally, Mark breaks away. The chief looks like he’s going to swallow a snake.
“C’mon, Carrie. Let’s go. Get your phone and purse.”
“Go? What do you mean, go?”
My phone rings inside the trailer. I open the door and find it.
It’s a number I don’t know.
“Hello?”
Mark’s bent over, pacing in the tiny trailer. He’s huffing and enraged.
“Carrie? This is Talia Peters, at Human Resources at Yates.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Yes? Hi Talia.” She’s the one who interviewed me for the job. “Is there something I—”
“It’s my understanding that you’ve been harassing Dean Landau and his daughter at home, Carrie.”
“I’ve WHAT?”
Mark stops pacing.
“I have a report here,” she says in an officious voice. “It’s a detailed report about the various ways that you have harassed the dean and his daughter, Claudia, during the two weeks you’ve worked at Yates, and—”
“Wait, wait. Slow down. He’s saying I’m harassing him?”
Mark’s turn for his eyebrows to hit the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“It’s the other way around! His daughter is the one who—”
“His daughter is not an employee of the university, Carrie. Ignatio Landau is. Did you appear at his house yesterday?”
“Yes! At his request! I volunteer at the animal shelter and I—”
“And is it true his dog was found, abused, at your home this morning?”
“What? I—no—I—yes, but—”
“Which is it? Yes or no?”
“Talia, I don’t understand. What is—”
“I am sorry to be the one to deliver the news, Carrie, but based on your harassment of Dean Landau alone, we need to terminate your employment effective immediately.”
“Terminate my what?”
Mark pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a sound of disgust.
“Your employment with Yates. You are on a probationary period for your first ninety days here, and based on the report given by the dean, we—”
Mark reaches for my phone, takes it from my frozen hand, and presses “End.”
He looks at me. Looks outside at the chief and all the officers examining the crime scene. Looks back at my phone.
“We’ve both been set up,” he declares.
Then he grabs my purse and stomps outside to his car. He yanks open the front driver’s side door, throws my stuff in back, and looks at me.
I grab my backpack, race to him, climb in the passenger side, and rest my head against the seat, eyes closed.
Terminated.
I’m terminated.
I’m really, truly done.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Where are we going?” I can tell how tired I am by my tone of voice. It sounds like each word has to be lifted with great effort, like stacking blocks of concrete.
“Somewhere where people don’t try to kill dogs and hang them on your doorknob.”
I shudder. Mark’s hand is on my knee as we drive and he looks at me sharply as he feels me tremor.
“You okay?”
“No.”
My blunt answer makes him scowl. “Stupid question. I should know better,” he says in a clipped voice.
“So where are we going?”
“The coast. We need to get the fuck away from here. The chief said he’d give us one day.”
“Half of California is ‘the coast’.”
“Not half. Not technically.”
“Mark,” I say, my voice low and menacing.
“We’re going north of Los Angeles.”
“To....?” I draw out the word, making it a question.
“To visit my brother.”
I look down at my unkempt self. “I’m not exactly dressed to be taken somewhere for a big occasion to meet your family.”
“Not my entire family. Just my brother.”
“Why?”
He tenses. I can tell he almost lied to me again. His hand moves from my knee to the steering wheel. I instantly miss it.
“Because we can stay with Chase and Allie and lay low for a day or two. Catch our breath.” He puts the car on cruise control, then turns to me.
I see my reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.
Yep. I look as bad as I feel.
“Besides, everything we know back in Yates is over.”
He’s right. I know he’s right, and yet his words send a shot through me like someone injected Red Bull directly into my heart.
“What have I done?” I moan. Home for less than two weeks and my best friend gets kidnapped, I lose my virginity, I start my new job, I get accused of killing a dog and lose my new job, and I manage to get set up by my worst enemy for a crime I didn’t commit.
I’ve had better weeks.
“You didn’t do anything. That’s the problem, Carrie. Everything bad that is happening is happening to you. You’re not causing any of it.” He reaches over and pats my knee. We’re both pulsing with adrenaline.
“Yet I’m a trouble magnet. It finds me.”
“Landau is trouble. He’s at the center of everything, but the guy is like Teflon. No matter how hard I try, I can’t find anything on him. The meeting in D.C. was nothing but logistics and underground maps. All we found was the source of the strange tunnels Effie
found.”
I reach down on the floor between my legs and pat my backpack. “We have the emails from Effie. Plus the blueprints.”
He nods, clearly in a contemplative state of mind. “Right. I made copies of those and sent them in to be analyzed. Assuming they’re not forgeries or fakes, they may contain enough information to get Landau.” He sounds skeptical.
“What about the tunnels?”
“Years ago, they set up irrigation systems. The tunnels are narrow, about three and a half feet in diameter, and were designed to improve water flow from the town water treatment center to the science division on campus. Something about lab work and experiments. The town, though, refused to take federal grant money to make the pipes fully operational.”
“Why?”
He snorts. “Because they would have needed to build low-income housing apartments to qualify for the federal funds. The town selectmen didn’t want that.”
“So they built the tunnels but never did anything with them?”
“Yep.”
“Where do the tunnels end?”
He shakes his head, eyes on the road. “That’s what we couldn’t figure out. Effie’s blueprints only show the tunnel location on campus property. Anything off campus isn’t marked. We don’t want to sniff around town records and tip El Brujo or anyone else off. I came back to try to figure out where those tunnels end.”
“Presumably, the water treatment plant.”
He shrugs. “I just care about nailing Landau.”
“But Landau’s smart,” I say. “He wiggled out of the mess he set my dad up for. He’s that kind of guy. No one can touch him.”
“No one’s perfect. And the bigger the ego, the more likely they are to get overconfident.”
“Like a guy the morning after sex.”
Mark makes a strange sputtering sound. “Am I overconfident the morning after sex?”
Oh, so now we’ve changed topics, haven’t we?
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning.” I’m feeling buzzed and jaunty, a bundle of raw nerves, and make the teasing comment before I realize what I’m saying.
Mark crooks one eyebrow and gives me a look. It’s like he’s seeing me in a new light.
“I sure do hope Chase has a tent,” he mutters under his breath.
“Tent? We’re camping? My idea of camping is no HBO,” I gasp.
