The Messenger: A Novel

by Burke, Jan

A beefy security guard with a uniform marked DANTON’S SECURITY greeted her at the gates at the end of Tyler’s drive, and insisted on speaking to Tyler. Tyler had apparently awakened at the sound of their voices. He stretched—a little carefully, but apparently without a great deal of pain—and began moving forward to the passenger seat, which Shade reluctantly vacated.

  He greeted the guard and asked after his children, naming them. The guard said they were fine, thanked him for asking, smiled, and opened the gates.

  “He doesn’t have any children,” Tyler said as they drove through. “But now he knows you aren’t holding me hostage.”

  “You’d better change the code. Who knows what my intentions will be the next time I’m up here?”

  “I’m afraid I’m the one who has held you hostage. Amanda, thank you.”

  She waved this away and they fell silent until the van was parked and the engine off.

  She saw another guard in the garage, talking into a headset. He started to come toward them, but at some signal from Tyler, stood a discreet distance away.

  “Amanda, I know it has been a long and trying evening for you. You must be exhausted. Do you want one of the guards to give you a ride home?”

  “Nice try, but I’m not leaving until you meet your end of the bargain.”

  “That was concern with your comfort, not evasion.”

  She lifted her brows.

  “All right, it was both,” he admitted.

  “You—you seem to be doing much better.”

  “Much better. Just needed some sleep. Well, let’s go inside.”

  He got out and would have come around to open her door for her, but she was already getting out of the van. He opened the van’s side door for Shade.

  Ron’s grandfather, Derek, had installed an elevator in the house years ago, when Ron first came to live with him. It ran from the garage to the third story, and during the times when Ron was not quite up to managing stairs, it allowed him easy access to every floor. Now its doors opened, and Ron—supported on the arm of another guard—came toward them. He was improving rapidly, she thought, then looked toward Tyler.

  Speaking of rapid improvement, how the hell had he managed it? Naturally, she didn’t want Tyler to be suffering, but—had she been that mistaken about his injuries?

  Ron hugged her and said, “I’ve been so worried about the two of you…” His voice trailed off as he looked at Tyler. “Sorry, I thought—Amanda said—”

  “We’re fine, as you can see,” Tyler said quickly. “Let’s go inside. Amanda and I will tell you all about our adventures.”

  “Yes, of course,” Ron said.

  A small awkward silence fell. Amanda said, “Ron, you didn’t tell me Tyler had a dog.”

  “No small talk?” Tyler murmured.

  “Oh, that,” Ron said with relief. “Are you and Shade friends?”

  “Shade adores her,” Tyler said. “I’m almost jealous.”

  “Isn’t he wonderful?” Ron asked, petting the dog as they moved together toward the elevator.

  “Quite wonderful,” she said. “I’m really amazed by some of his special powers.”

  They came to a halt, and she was concerned to see that Tyler looked a little pale. Maybe he wasn’t feeling so well after all.

  “What special powers?” Ron asked.

  “Invisibility, for one. How is it that I never saw him any of the times I visited you here?”

  “He was with me,” Tyler said.

  “That’s not the whole truth,” Ron said. “I asked him to keep Shade out of sight whenever you were visiting. I told Tyler that you were afraid of dogs.”

  She glanced self-consciously at the guard, whose face remained a polite blank. Tyler caught the look, though, and said to the guard, “Thank you for your help—I think we can manage from here. Would you please tell the others that we are not to be disturbed?”

  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Amanda said, “Tell the world, why don’t you, Ron?”

  Tyler said, “I’ve told no one else, Amanda.”

  “I doubt that guard is as deaf as he pretended to be.”

  “Lots of people are afraid of dogs,” Ron protested.

  Shade made a sighing sound.

  They rode to the second floor, where Ron’s rooms were. As they exited the elevator car, Ron took hold of Amanda’s arm, a plea for forgiveness as much as a request for support. She laid her hand over his and said, “It’s okay.”

  She looked up to see Tyler watching her. He looked away.

  Tyler had given Ron the rooms Ron had always occupied, a suite that consisted of a spacious bedroom, a bathroom, and a large adjoining room that Ron used as both an office and a sitting room. It had a stone fireplace, bookshelves, a television, a computer, a small refrigerator, two couches, and several big comfortable chairs. Also adjoining Ron’s bedroom was a smaller bedroom, now used as an office and medical-supply storage area by the nursing staff.

  Ron and Amanda sat on one of the couches. Tyler lit a fire, then sat in one of the chairs. Shade moved near him, then rested at his feet.

  Unprompted, Amanda told Ron about their evening. Tyler did not interrupt her, intrigued by her view of events. She finished her story with their arrival here. “And I made the whole trip sitting next to Shade,” she said, not without a little pride.

  There was a short silence. Ron and Amanda both looked toward Tyler expectantly.

  Now or never, Tyler thought. Or—no, there were other choices, weren’t there? He wouldn’t lie to them, but he couldn’t risk the whole truth. Not yet. To buy some time to think over his options, he asked Amanda, “Why are you afraid of dogs?”

  14

  Amanda gave him a look that said she was onto his ploy but said, “The reason you might expect. I was bitten by one.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” Ron said. “Tell him the whole story.”

  Tyler waited.

  “When I was nine,” Amanda said, “I was playing near our house, along the hillside. I believe I was building a fort, doing some digging. The sort of thing that always displeased my mother. Anyway, I was digging away with a toy shovel when a large stray dog came out of the trees and started growling at me. I stood up, told it to go home, to shoo, all the usual. It barked at me. I tossed the shovel at it and shimmied up a tree. It stayed and watched me. If I tried to get down, it barked and snapped at me.

  “I called for help. No one came.”

  She paused, remembering her terror, her unheard pleas.

  “I began to get cold,” she went on. “I decided to snap off the biggest stick I could manage to find on the nearby branches. I got hold of a good one. I broke it off. Unfortunately, I also lost my balance and fell from the tree.” She smiled. “A klutz from an early age, you see. I’ve always thought that fall would have been the funny part if the dog hadn’t been there.”

  “Well, it’s not funny,” Ron said. “And the dog was there.”

  “Yes. At first, I think my falling like manna startled him, but it also knocked the wind out of me, and I broke one of my arms. He charged at me and I—well, I guess it was instinct that made me protect my neck, but he bit me hard on the face. I still had hold of the stick, and that was the arm that wasn’t broken, so I hit him as hard as I could with it. He didn’t let go. I hit him a second time, on his muzzle, I think, although I couldn’t really see by then, and that time he released me. I remember hearing him yelp and run away.

  “I managed to get to the house. I must have nearly been in shock by the time I reached the kitchen door—our cook took one look at me and started screaming at the top of her lungs. That’s the last thing I remember very clearly before I got to the hospital.”

  She traced the scar near her brow. “I guess the plastic surgeon did a good job. This is the only scar you can see now.”

  “They didn’t find the dog,” Ron said tightly.

  Tyler frowned. “Didn’t find it? But then—”

  “Yes, I had to have the rabies s
hots.”

  “Good God.”

  She sighed, then looked at Shade. “I have tried not to blame all creatures in your species, Shade, and I know you and other dogs are good dogs, but it’s still very hard for me not to feel afraid.”

  Shade stood and moved toward Amanda.

  “Shade!” Tyler called to him, unheeded. “If you’d rather I put him up in my rooms—”

  But Shade had dropped to his belly, as if to make himself smaller, and moved at a crawl toward her. When he reached her feet, he laid his head on her shoes and moaned.

  “I think he just apologized on behalf of all doghood,” Ron said.

  She hesitated, then reached down and stroked his long, soft fur. “Well, of course I see that you are nothing like that mean fellow in the woods. And yes, I’d like to be your friend. I just spook easily, all right?”

  He wagged his tail.

  She looked up at Tyler. “So now Shade and I have settled our business. I believe it’s your turn.”

  A silence stretched. He walked over to the fireplace and, looking into the flames said, “You’ll have to forgive me for being hesitant. In part, that’s because it’s not just my story to tell. But I have been given permission by the others involved to explain what I can.”

  “Was that the call you made in the van, the third one?” Amanda asked.

  “Yes. Without boring you with the details, I helped a man in Missouri—call him Max—who was dying. He wanted to find a man who had once been his best friend, Sam. There had been a falling-out between them.

  “I sometimes believe that the end of a close friendship can be as difficult or more difficult than a divorce. Think of the emotions—they are much the same. At the end, former friends feel betrayed. They act out of hurt and anger, take ill advantage of their intimate knowledge of each other, and sometimes divide whole camps of connected friendships in the wake of their separation. While couples will go to marriage counselors, there is really nothing adequate to help friends steer their way through difficulties.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t good reasons to end friendships,” Ron said. “If someone isn’t trustworthy, it’s smarter not to have anything to do with them.”

  “Certainly, or if the friendship was destructive. But often differences arise out of petty matters.”

  “Was that the case this time?” Amanda asked.

  “Hmm. Not exactly. Years earlier, Sam had come to California to seek his fortune. Told his girlfriend he’d come back to Missouri to marry her one day, but he didn’t ask her to give up her life there when he might well be returning to her as a failure. A month later, he received a telegram from Max. His best friend had married the girl he’d asked to wait for him.”

  “See what I mean?” Ron said. “Some friend!”

  “So Sam thought. But unbeknownst to Sam, the woman he left behind was pregnant with his son. She knew that supporting a young family would be a financial burden for Sam, who didn’t seem ready to settle down with a wife, let alone a wife and child. Max married her and raised the boy as his own. He kept her secret until he was dying.”

  Tyler moved back to his chair and sat down wearily.

  “Are you okay? Do you need to talk to us another time?” Amanda asked.

  He needed to sleep, knew his strength had not yet fully returned, but he knew Amanda and Ron were tired, too. Easier to convince them, perhaps, if they were weary. He shook his head, but laid his head back and closed his eyes. And told them of Max and Sam talking things out, without mentioning that Max was comatose at the time.

  “So what does that have to do with nearly getting killed tonight?” Amanda asked.

  “Ah. Sam called me from St. Louis to say he has relatives here in California who aren’t pleased that he’s embracing a new heir. They apparently believe I’m in on some scheme to defraud him. Sam is doing all he can to protect his son, but frankly, I’m glad they came after me and not the boy.”

  “Will they be arrested?”

  “I don’t know. Sam will pursue things with the authorities,” he said. “Now, it’s nearly dawn, and while I enjoy your company, I must get some rest. Amanda, may I see you home?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit with Ron for a few minutes more.”

  Tyler hid a sudden sense of disappointment. “Of course I don’t mind.”

  “Oh,” she said, watching his face. Then she turned to Ron and said, “That is, if you aren’t too tired, Ron?”

  “I’m the only one who has had any sleep tonight,” Ron said. “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll give you some privacy, then,” Tyler said. “Only—promise me you won’t walk home, Amanda. One of the guards will drive you back whenever you’re ready.” He indicated the phone next to his chair. “Just use the intercom line and dial seven. That will put you through to Alex.” He found a notepad near the phone and wrote a number on it. He gave it to her. “This is my cell phone number. I keep the phone with me, so if you see strangers lurking near you or you feel worried about any of this, please text or call me.”

  “Thank you. I hate to be such a bother—”

  “Not at all.”

  When Tyler rose from his chair, she stood also. She came toward him and studied his face again for a moment, then said in a low voice, “Are you sure you won’t see a doctor? I’m worried that if you have a concussion and fall asleep…”

  “If it will make you feel better, ask Alex to check on me in a few hours.”

  “All right, I will.” She surprised him with a hug and a quick kiss beneath his ear. “Good night, Tyler.”

  “Good night, Amanda. Thank you again.”

  He wished Ron a good night and called to Shade, who followed him from the room. He forced himself to give them the privacy they so clearly wanted. Let them be, he told himself sternly. You have no business pursuing her in any case.

  Still, he thought of how Ron and Amanda sat near, but not too near each other. There was nothing quite loverlike in the way they interacted. Loving, yes. Devoted, yes. But were they lovers? Or friends?

  None of your business, he told himself.

  She had kissed him.

  Just an L.A. thing. People in this city are always exchanging peu baisers. Don’t be a fool.

  He called down to Alex, requested that Amanda be given a ride home and seen safely inside. “If she’ll allow it, please check the house over, too.”

  He undressed and made sure to plug the cell phone in the recharger on his nightstand. He crawled into bed and listened to Shade settle near him. He reached for the dog and scratched his ears and chin in a manner that earned canine sighs of pleasure. “You’ve saved me again, Shade, and while I’m really not especially grateful for that, I do appreciate your dedication. And, most especially, your companionship.”

  But the dog suddenly seemed distracted—in the next instant he came to his feet and held himself alert, his ears pitched forward. He moved to the French doors that led to the deck surrounding most of this level of the house. The deck was, Tyler thought, the dog’s favorite feature of the house—he could sun himself or survey the canyon from it. “At this hour? All right.”

  He got up, donned a silk robe, and opened the doors. Shade immediately began patrolling the part of the deck in front of the bedroom. Tyler looked down at the place where Amanda’s house stood. Only a small porch light was on.

  Shade seemed disinclined to come back in. The night was warm, so Tyler left the doors open.

  What did he have to fear?

  Nothing. He would survive anything that might come through that door.

  Which was, he thought, the pity of it all.

  15

  I saw what I saw.”

  “You had been in an accident,” Ron said gently. “And for someone who survived a really horrible car wreck just eight years ago, that must have been traumatic.”

  “I didn’t even think about that—I swear I didn’t. I was too worried about him. Besides, you know I don’t remember anything about that
other accident.”

  “All right. But tonight, you might have been a little dazed. The airbag went off, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you had just seen something awful, and then these assholes came over to your car and terrified you, right?”

  “I admit I was scared, but—”

  “And to top off everything else, a big dog comes loping up to you. Don’t you think all of that could have caused you to be a little confused?”

  She paced across the room, then back. “He stopped breathing. He had no pulse—no heartbeat. His skin was cold and gray. His wounds weren’t bleeding.”

  “What wounds? There’s hardly a mark on him.”

  “I can’t explain it. That’s what I’m telling you!”

  Ron sighed in exasperation.

  “He was dead!”

  “Which is how he just had a conversation with us.”

  “Ron!”

  “Okay—which was why you began CPR. You thought he was dead. One hundred percent croaked. Total goner.”

  She had no answer to that.

  “Look, Amanda, maybe you’re right. Maybe he was dead, briefly. But you obviously revived him.”

  “But how did he recover so quickly?”

  “How should I know? Just exactly what are you getting at, Amanda?”

  “I don’t know. None of it makes sense to me.”

  “Well, then, that’s two of us.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re tired. You’ve been through a lot. Maybe in the morning…”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t get that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The one that is supposed to fool me into thinking you are docile.”

  She brooded for a few minutes, then tried another tack. “Okay, tell me this—how old is he?”

  “I don’t know. He looks about our age, maybe a little older. Somewhere in his twenties anyway.”

  “Have you listened to him talk? He doesn’t sound like anyone our age.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed he’s not like anyone we went to school with. Neither am I, so it’s really nice to find someone weirder than I am.”