The Woman Hidden

by Lucas Mattias

  “Not to the best of my recollection.”

  “I see you are a detective. I’ll give you a medical leave for a couple of days, try to take this time to medicate yourself and watch yourself, most importantly. Your wife can help you, too.”

  She was obviously talking about Georgia, who embarrassedly smiled. Anthon smiled back, pretending to agree so that he wouldn’t have to explain himself.

  “Should this happen again in a period of 48 hours, I suggest you return immediately for an MRI and more thorough examinations, alright? Try and avoid alcohol or physical exercises.”

  “I will.” Anthon said with a nod.

  Georgia, in her corner, just watched it unravel, partially hidden by the shadows. The doctor said her goodbyes with a nod to Anthon and Georgia and finally left, leaving them by themselves again.

  “Fear of doctors?” He joked, trying to make himself comfortable at the bed.

  “Childhood trauma.” Georgia replied, slowly heading to the bed.

  At other times, he would have reasons to believe she was hiding something from the doctor. At that moment, specifically, Anthon ignored that thought for he knew Georgia was there for him and she had no reasons to lie or, more precisely, to hide herself from others.

  “Coffee in the middle of the day I can relate to, but scotch? You stink of it.”

  Anthon realized it to be true. And he also realized he owed explanations to nobody, but his subconscious was stronger than his external willpower.

  “I’m lost, G.”

  “How so?”

  “My job is on the line. My marriage… I don’t even think there’s one to consider. She kicked me out to ‘realize’ what she wants.”

  “Give her time.”

  Anthon was not shocked by seeing Georgia support his marriage; he knew they were simply friends with benefits, but neither were planning a lifetime with each other. Maybe, over time, things could grow and develop, but for him, Georgia was nothing but a great friend with amazing breasts. He was actually shocked to notice she had just ignored the part regarding his job, she was always so interested about it.

  Well, a failed marriage does hurt you more than a frail job.

  “Monica I can handle. The department scares me the most.”

  “But did something happen?”

  “They’re claiming I allegedly lost crucial evidence concerning the case and ignored the call from Derby’s sheriff. They’re accusing me of cooling the case.”

  “Cooling it?”

  “There are no suspects nor witnesses. Such cases need to be investigated ASAP, before other leads get lost and another murder dies unsolved at the bottom of some drawer. The case is getting cold and it’s my fault.”

  Georgia sat at the side of the bed and placed her pale hands on his shoulders.

  “Anthon, do you know why she kicked you out? Because she needs time. Now you are the one who needs it. We all do. This seizure? Your body is not handling all the pressure anymore.”

  “Georgia, I…”

  “When lawyers get stuck during the discovery process, before the depositions and trials, we normally brainstorm. I used to call it a brightening moment.”

  “I don’t need a…”

  “Maybe you do, Anthon. Look,” She got closer to him, her hands on his face now. “Your case is not lost and if you think you are losing too many things, one of them you’ll have to save. Your marriage is out of your reach, so go for your job.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Start with the facts you already have. And you know that…?”

  “A family disappeared, possibly all dead. A woman was found not too far, but is also missing. There was fire and nothing more.”

  “Could this woman be your main suspect?”

  “Hardly. I mean, right now, I have no fucking idea. Maybe so, and maybe not. She vanished and whenever a go for this case, I feel I’m dealing with a ghost town.”

  She smirked, sliding her hand across his face, all sweaty and tired.

  “What about the authorities in there?”

  “Not a single clue. That sheriff just told me nothing ever happens around there and that this case is a singularity, especially when it comes about the level of violence that was used.”

  “You said they didn’t find the bodies. Did they?”

  “One. I don’t know. And it looks like I don’t even have the evidence about it. They said they sent it to me, but…”

  Her hand landed on his chest, calming him down.

  “Take a breath, Anthon. You no longer have the evidence, that’s fine. You can still redeem yourself.”

  She stood up and moved onto a near chair, where his belongings were. She scavenged through it for a while, confusing Anthon, until she got his phone from the bag and gave him the device.

  “Call them.”

  “Georgia, I don’t know if I should.”

  “You are still a detective and they still need you. Apologize, try to--”

  She noticed his disapproving glance.

  “I know about your pride, Anthon, and I know it to be bigger than other things you so proudly display.” He smiled in a reply, getting her message. “But you need to let your guard down now and accept that you need to apologize and maybe even humiliate yourself a little. Do you still want your job or not?”

  He knew, sure enough, he did. And he wanted that woman. He wanted her for the whole thing, not just for now. He wouldn’t ignore her, nor push her away, anymore. She was the key to his success; Monica could even be the woman he loved, but Georgia could bring him peace and joy.

  “I do.” He mumbled, while searching for a specific number on his phone, already starting a call. And he kept on mumbling: “I just do not get how those things can happen. And to me. I know many tragedies happen everywhere, but why it all happens like that and to me?”

  She smiled as she observed him. At last someone picked up on the other side, cutting the complaint rant.

  “This is Detective Gilles, I’d like to speak to Sheriff… Aubry, I believe.”

  He held while the lady on the other side of that line, whose voice was that of an old auntie with barely no prospects in life, tucked behind a cheap plywood table answering dull phone calls and organizing an empty schedule while sanding her nails unaware that her clock was ticking, transferred his phone call.

  “Aubry speaking.”

  The sheriff’s voice, on the other hand, was a mix of an old scared man with a gentle ranger you’ll probably meet at Yellowstone complaining about his scant retirement.

  “Sheriff, I’m Anthon Gilles, you called me about the case you have over there in the mountains. I know you must not be expecting much from me right now, but I’m putting myself completely available to you. If you could, please, update me on the case…”

  He heard a long, deep sigh from the other side, something that could easily be under a heavy mustache over his mouth and fogged by the many years of nicotine and tobacco.

  “There are no further updates, Detective. Aside from this mystery, there are some other strange things going on around these lands, but I’m leaning towards blaming it on the full moon rather than a serial killer on the loose.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “A death, which I believe to have been an accident. You know how things work away from the big cities.”

  “What about that missing woman?”

  Georgia, who seemed distant up to that moment, neared the bed again, distracted by the shape of her floppy hat now in her hands. He took the chance to place his free hand on her thigh, caressing that limb that pleased him so well.

  “Nothing,” The sheriff claimed on the line. “No traces. It’s of my deep concern to get this solved once and for all, Detective. I presume things are busy over there in this huge city you have in your hands, but… you know how places like Derby are. We get attached to our neighbors and, around here, we’re all neighbors.”

  “Can you tell me anything about the family? Somethin
g that could shine a light on my investigation?”

  “Not much. I mean, I knew them, but not that close to know about any enemies or any brawls. I know their past not to have been the best of them, but I’d never expect this outcome… I used to visit the place, Detective. Finding it all in ruins and ashes? A tragedy with no precedents.”

  “I see. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get all the evidence you already have and, perhaps, even some more info about the family and neighbors, if possible.”

  “This is no New York, sir, where people reside and settle down roots. Most of them spend seasons around, to enjoy the snow and the holidays. In case you’re interested, I’d be glad to receive you here and show you around, maybe even the crime scene.”

  Anthon put the phone away from his face and sighed, rubbing his eyelids in an attempt to calm himself. He didn’t want to consider that possibility, but it was almost certain he’d have no other viable option. He had already screwed up with the evidence before, he didn’t want to be held responsible for another loss.

  “I also believe it to be the best option. I had a recent health situation, but if it’s good for you, I can set it up for the beginning of the next week. And about the woman, you wouldn’t happen to have some photo or a composite sketch, by any chance?”

  Georgia smiled at him, again fondling his beard that had already started to show signs of growing and spreading. He could really use a razor.

  “Nada. A description, only. Fair hair, ginger. Nothing beyond that.”

  “If you managed to lose a redhead, what would you have done had she been blonde?”

  The both shared a laugh and Anthon didn’t even know why they were laughing. The sheriff seemed pleasant, at least, and pleased by the chat, which was essential to him.

  “Next week, then. I’ll let you know about my arrival.”

  “See you, Detective. Hope you like Derby.”

  “So do I. See you.”

  The call came to its end and Anthon sank his head into the hospital pillow again, ignoring it was the same he had at the hotel, made with geese feathers or something alike. Swans, maybe. Were there pillows made with swans’ feathers?

  He just didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to spend the next few weeks in a city huddled with mountains, snow and mud everywhere. He didn’t want to dirty his clothes, he didn’t desire contact with countryside folks who, possibly enough, didn’t even own a TV. Alright, he could maybe be exaggerating the stereotypes and biases, but he didn’t want that. He did prefer his concrete jungle, with its honks and yells, robberies and rush, coffees spilled on streets and the never-ceasing noises from phones and TVs and cars. However, there was no choice.

  “So you’re going to Derby.”

  “I am.” He said, hit by her curiosity.

  She seemed cooler, though, and he knew part of that dwelled on seeing him fulfill another goal. There was a good chance he would be able to save his own job and, in the end, get rid of at least one of his troubles. Once he visited the town and put an end to the case, his boss would be more receptive and he wouldn’t be so scrutinized as he was being now. He felt exposed and he didn’t like that feeling. He used to be a role model to that department.

  All he wanted to do was to proclaim that case solved. To do that, he would have to take that short trip.

  “Take me out of here.” He supplicated, already stretching his neck and waiting for Georgia’s kiss in response.

  “Right after you apologize for the cold shoulder in these last few days. Have you tried the whiskey?”

  “Delightful.” He said, between her soft pecks on the lips. “Now take me out of here.”

  “Get ready. We could go to my house,” she suggested, although her eyes indicated something else. “But I know our hotel is just two blocks from here.”

  “As long as I can rest my head on your…”

  “You can.” She interrupted him before anyone outside the room could hear it. “When are you leaving?”

  He sighed and forced a smile, trying to get up and put himself sat on the bed’s edge.

  “You still have me for two days.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Yeah. That was enough.

  VIII

  The loud howl woke him up and he jumped, believing himself to be at his bed.

  He wasn’t. Although he had expected the soft touch of the sheets and blankets, all he saw around himself was the cold ground of the woods that surrounded his house. The wind blew and the cold was so intense he just then realized he was completely naked. He didn’t know what was happening, or how he had gotten in there, but there he was, lost.

  He remembered having gone to bed and taking Clarice along to protect her, once she had spent the whole day in an almost catatonic state. He recalled the warm milk Clarice offered him before sleeping, suggesting it was a wonderful option for a calm and noiseless night. He knew he had reinforced all securities of the house with Marco and activated the alarm, something he almost never did.

  But he didn’t remember leaving the house and heading towards the woods, much less without clothes.

  Jason immediately put himself up and observed the clearing he was at, trying to pull information out of his memories, perhaps he would remember how to return home from there. The night was too dark, cloudy, there was no moonlight to help him or starts to offer him a way to guide himself. The trees surrounding him all looked the same, as did the many trails he could follow ahead.

  And what if he went the opposite way and got even deeper into those woods? He knew those mountains as well as he knew his own body, but he couldn’t take that chance, not with the risk of hypothermia.

  His body trembled and there was nothing near to help him cover and protect his skin. His muscles tightened and his body hair was lift, as if endlessly fearing an imminent danger. For he was in imminent danger. Animals inhabited that forest, including those he feared the most.

  As if hit by a psychological stimulus, he felt an odd tingling in his feet, as if thousands of ants or spiders tried to crawl their way up to devour him. However, there was nothing but dirt and mud.

  Jason… come find me.

  That voice… Was it Michelle’s? Or Clarice’s?

  Jason.

  He searched for the source of it, but all he found were the same trees and the darkness that frightened him. Maybe he should follow that voice. Had Michelle been something created by his mind, maybe his mind was trying to show him a way out.

  Embracing himself while rubbing his hands against his own arms trying to warm himself up, he moved forward, observing how thick his breath became as it touched the icy atmosphere of the forest.

  “Michelle?” He called, trying not to be too loud. After all, he could be simply crazy.

  Jason… I’m here.

  “Clarice?”

  Jason…

  He followed onto the painful walk, the loose gravel and the pine needles being felt against his feet, now so vulnerable and exposed, as the whole rest of his body was.

  Jason!

  That was a shriek, not a whisper. Fright hit his body as electricity, moving all cold and fear of the dark night away from him. Whether it was Clarice or Michelle, the owner of that cry was lost and endangered. He moved towards the sound, the best he could, and began to run, careful not to hit any tree or animal that, by random chances, could appear in his way.

  “Michelle?”

  He kept on running, noticing as the soil slant into a long steep slope sprinkled with loose rocks and other forest debris spread ahead as obstacles to him.

  Jason halted as soon as he saw the signs of light.

  He had reached the road. And not any part of the road.

  His subconscious had driven him to the place he hated the most through the whole length of that road. The same place he saw Michelle’s car plummet, the very same place that caused not only her downfall, but his own. The guardrail was again broken and a distant honk caught him.

  What was happening? It seemed like th
e same scene from three years before, the same situation he had to face on a tragic night and had been trying to forget ever since.

  Jason…

  Come and find me.

  He looked around. There was nothing nor anybody. He didn’t want to risk going by the road, though he couldn’t also just stand there. A new accident could’ve happened, that was a dangerous curve. Maybe this time he would get to save someone.

  Jason took his chances and walked to the side of the road, watching the long deep ravine and the small stream of water that so hard tried to be a creek at around two hundred feet below that steep slope of exposed stone. Nothing. Nor anyone.

  He turned around to leave.

  “Jason.”

  There Michelle was. As real as three years ago.

  She was brutally hurt through her whole body. Her skull was crunched at many places, just like when he saw her at the market; her arm seemed completely twisted to the opposite side and what seemed to be Michelle’s bowels persisted on escaping through the rip in her abdomen. Jason took a step toward her, he wanted to be sure she was real.

  A hand came against his face, nails sharper than the pine needles that previously stung his feet. He felt his skin tear at eye level and blood gushed out. Michelle's hand flew against him again and, trying to escape, he fell onto the asphalt, naked and exposed, his arms wide open. If her intention was to crucify him for his past, he couldn't be at better position.

  “Michelle…”

  “It’s your fault.”

  She jumped on him and sat on his torso, sinking her nails into Jason’s face, looking for his eyes, his skin, his skull. The feeling was suffocating, agonizing and he wanted to get free from it, but he felt as if his hands were nailed to the asphalt. His face bled, his skin opened itself as easily as a ripe fruit and her nails kept on puncturing and tearing and opening him like a feast she had waited years to enjoy.

  When he felt himself free from that imaginary magnetism, he reached for Michelle’s neck and threw himself on her, now putting her against the cold tarmac as he struggled for his life. Although her hands tried to fight to get herself away from that choking that would save Jason’s life, her face remained still, petrified, almost inexpressive. And suddenly her nails against his face didn’t burn anymore, they had turned into springs of pleasure. He was free, maybe still freeing himself, he was finding his way out of that nightmare, the exit from that… that memory.