Lost Things (A Short Story)

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Lost Things (A Short Story) Page 7

by John Rector


  I shook my head. “I don’t understand how.”

  “Neither do I,” Rustin said. “That’s why I came down.”

  “But—” I stumbled over my words. “I was with my fiancée all weekend. I had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Rustin said. “Theresa probably found the shirt. Runaways aren’t normally picky. Most likely, this is just a coincidence.”

  I nodded.

  “It’s my job to follow up every lead no matter how small. That’s all I’m doing. You understand, right?”

  I told him I did.

  “Good.” He reached out and shook my hand. “I’ll be in touch. You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  “Going anywhere?”

  “Any trips? A vacation?”

  I shook my head. “No, nowhere.”

  He nodded, slowly, then turned and walked out of my office. I stayed in the doorway and watched him until he was gone, then I closed my door and walked back to my desk and sat down.

  I stayed there for a long time, staring at the papers on my desk and listening to the dull shuffle of the people working in the office.

  My arms and hands were numb.

  I let several minutes pass. Then I reached for my trash can, leaned over it, and vomited.

  THE car next to me honked, and I swerved back into my lane. “Shit.” I turned the windshield wipers up and leaned forward, wiping the fog away with my sleeve. Traffic had slowed to a crawl, and I did my best to fall in line.

  When I got to Peter’s apartment, I parked and ran up the stairs to his front door. I knocked, hard, but there was no answer. Then I noticed the bolt lock. It was clean and silver and new.

  “No.”

  I reached up and ran my hand along the top of the doorjamb, one side to the other, feeling for the key. I knew it was pointless to check. If he’d gone through the trouble of changing the locks, the last thing he’d do is put the spare key back in the same place.

  “Goddamn it!”

  I kicked the door, the sound echoing loud, then turned and paced the hallway. I tried to figure out my next move. I knew I had to get my boxes out of the apartment, even if it meant waiting for Peter to get home.

  For a moment, I considered going around the building to the fire escape, but I pushed that idea away fast. The ladders and platforms had rusted through in several spots, and even on dry days, the metal was slick and dangerous.

  With the rain, dangerous would be deadly.

  I thought about my options for a while longer, then took the only one I had left. I opened my phone and dialed Peter’s number.

  He answered right away.

  “Evan?” His voice sounded bright, cheerful. “I didn’t expect to see your name pop up. Long time.”

  Every part of me wanted to scream at him, but I kept it under control and focused on the goal. “I need to get in the apartment.”

  “What? Why?”

  He kept the same bright tone, but this time there was something else. He was mocking me.

  “I’m taking my boxes,” I said. “All my things.”

  “OK.” He paused. “They belong to you.”

  “You changed the lock.”

  “That’s right. I’d forgotten all about the spare key until you reminded me that day. I figured with you gone, it was time to change.”

  For a moment, neither of us spoke.

  Outside, a car honked.

  “How soon can you get here?”

  “Today?”

  “I’m standing outside your door.”

  “Can’t do it today. My girlfriend is on her way over to the studio to see some paintings, then we’re going to grab dinner. I might be around later tonight, but if things go right, you’ll have to wait until morning.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice.

  I squeezed my phone hard enough to hear the plastic crack. I switched it to the other hand and said, “Let’s cut the bullshit.”

  Peter didn’t say anything.

  “A cop came to my office this afternoon.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Do you have any idea how that looked?”

  “Bad,” he said. “But you know, I had two cops come to my door a little while ago, right after the last time we talked.” He hesitated. “You don’t think they’re related somehow, do you?”

  “Fuck you, Pete.”

  Peter laughed. “Listen, I’ve got to go. She’s going to be here any minute, and I have to get—”

  “Do you think you’re going to scare me into keeping quiet?” I asked. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”

  Peter didn’t answer right away. When he did, the brightness in his voice was gone.

  “I’m not trying to scare you,” he said. “I’m trying to show you that we’re still in this together, and that it’s in both of our best interests to stay quiet.”

  “No,” I said. “We’re past that now.”

  “You’re wrong, we’ll never be past what happened that night. No matter what happens, it’ll still be there.” He paused. “And you played a role.”

  “Don’t blame what you’ve done on me.”

  “See,” Peter said. “Right there, that’s what it comes down to. You want absolution from what happened. You want to file it away and never think about it again, like it never happened.”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “You’re a coward.”

  “And you’re insane.”

  Peter ignored me. “I saw it that first night when you stopped me from calling the police. You were so relieved when I agreed to do it your way. Your selfishness is why we’re here.”

  I wanted to argue, but something about what he said wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right, if there was some truth in what he was saying.

  “If I’m charged for anything,” I said, “I’m going to tell them everything.”

  “You won’t be charged,” Peter said. “They don’t have the evidence to charge you. At least not yet.”

  “Now you want to threaten me?”

  “I want to motivate you.”

  I let that sink in, then said, “What would you have done if I’d told that cop this afternoon everything that’s happened? Then what?”

  “You weren’t going to do that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you,” Peter said. “I knew you’d stick to the story and pretend you knew nothing, at least until you had a chance to think it over. It’s how you operate.”

  “Well, guess what,” I said. “I’ve thought it over.”

  “And now you’re going to confess, am I right?”

  There was no trace of fear or worry in his voice.

  I didn’t like it.

  “What choice do I have?”

  “Only one,” Peter said. “It’s the same one I gave you last time. Leave me alone, and go live your life.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “It has to be.” I heard a knocking in the background, then Peter said, “Hold on a second.”

  He set the phone down. I heard the locks on the door click open, and a woman’s voice, light and faint, followed by laughter.

  When Peter came back on, the tone of his voice was once again cheerful, but there was a coldness to it that twisted inside me. For a second, I thought I was going to be sick again, but I fought it.

  “Got to go, Evan.”

  “Pete, wait.”

  ”For what? We’re done here.”

  Again, I heard the whisper of a woman’s voice, muffled, then the wet sounds of kissing.

  “Get over here, and let me in.”

  “Sorry, can’t do it.” He pulled the phone away. “Here, say hello.”

  “Pete, no.”

  “One thing first.” This time the lightness in his voice was gone. “Be careful what you say to her. I’d hate to lose this one. Do you understand?”

  I did understand, all too clearly.
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  “Don’t, Pete?”

  But it was too late.

  Peter handed the phone over. There was more kissing, then she put the phone to her ear and said, “Surprise!”

  In an instant, everything inside me fell away to nothing. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Anyone there? Hello?”

  My chest ached, and I swallowed hard. I tried to find my voice, but when I finally did, all that came out was one word.

  “Julia?”

  “WHAT are you doing there?”

  “So much for waiting until the weekend.”

  “Pete?” I stumbled over my words, not believing this was real. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

  “Evan, don’t freak out.”

  “Don’t freak out?” I ran to the steps, then started down, taking them two at a time. “You have to get out of there, right now.”

  “What?” She laughed. “No.”

  I got to the bottom of the stairs and pushed through the front doors into the rain. I crossed the parking lot toward my car. “Please, will you trust me for once in your life and do what I say?”

  Julia started to say something, then stopped. When she did speak again, her voice was soft, a whisper. “You’re not going to do this, Evan. Not this time.”

  “I’ll explain later. Just trust me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Who the hell...” She paused, inhaled deep. “I’m not a child, Evan. I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me, because it sounds like you just don’t want me seeing Pete.”

  “It’s more than that, I—”

  “Here’s the deal,” Julia said. “This is my life, and I’ll date whoever I want to date. If you have a problem with me seeing Pete, then get over it. I like him.”

  I got to my car, climbed in, and backed out of the parking lot. The rain was coming down harder now, and my windshield wipers fought to keep up. “Just stay on the phone with me until I get there, can you do that?”

  “You’re coming here?”

  “Don’t say anything to Pete.”

  “Don’t come here,” she said. “This is none of your business. I’m not going to pretend your opinion matters. I know what I’m doing.”

  I started to tell her she didn’t, but I stopped myself just in time. If I told her anything at all, Peter would find out. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but I had a pretty good idea.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re a bad liar, Evan.”

  “Not as bad as you think,” I said. “Look, I need to talk to you, away from Peter. Can you do that for me?”

  “Not right now,” she said. “Not today.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “Why, so you can judge me? I’m tired of you picking at everything I do. You’re as bad as Mom and Dad.”

  “Wait. Julia.”

  “Don’t come here, Evan. I mean it.”

  “Julia?”

  The line went dead.

  “Fuck.” I dropped the phone on the passenger seat and hit the steering wheel, over and over. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  I tried to calm down, but it was impossible.

  I turned onto the highway and pushed the gas pedal to the floor, merging into traffic. There weren’t many cars on the road, and if I hurried, I could be at Peter’s studio in ten minutes, maybe sooner. The question was what was I going to do once I got there.

  For that, I had no answer.

  I drove fast, weaving between cars. I was still a few miles from the river and Peter’s exit when my phone started vibrating on the passenger seat.

  I picked it up and answered.

  It was Peter.

  “I think you and I have a problem,” he said. “You’re on your way down here?”

  I told him I was.

  “I’d like you to turn around.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Go home,” he said. “Don’t come here. It’ll make things so much worse for us all.”

  There was no right way to respond. Peter knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to leave Julia alone with him.

  ”You know I won’t do that.”

  Peter was quiet, then said, “I think it’s unfortunate. Just so you know, I never had any intention of hurting her. I’ve always liked your little sister.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

  Peter made a small dismissive sound. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

  The tone of his voice was flat, emotionless.

  “Pete?”

  “She’s already asking questions.” He laughed to himself. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. Not to her.”

  “I didn’t say anything.” My voice sounded too high, too weak, even to me. “And I won’t, not ever.”

  “Why do you insist on lying to me?”

  “Come on, Pete, please.”

  There was a long, familiar scraping sound, and I knew he was opening the sliding metal door to the rinse room. When the scraping stopped, I heard Julia.

  “This isn’t fucking funny, Pete. Let me down!”

  She kept yelling, but Peter must’ve walked away, because her voice faded into the background.

  “What are you doing?”

  Peter made a slow clicking sound with his tongue and didn’t say anything. It made me think of afternoon game shows, or heavy footsteps on stone floors.

  I looked down at my speedometer. I was already going twenty miles an hour over the limit, but I didn’t care.

  I pushed the pedal to the floor.

  “I’ll turn around,” I said. “Just let her go.”

  Again, no answer.

  I heard a hard thump on the line, the gentle pop of latches, then the clank and slide of metal on metal.

  I knew the sound.

  It was Peter’s toolbox.

  I thought of the shower room, and the long sloped floor leading to the open drain in the middle of the room.

  “I swear to God, Pete, if you—”

  Peter shushed me, soft.

  “Life is a funny thing, Evan.” He laughed. “I mean, who would’ve thought we’d end up here?”

  “Pete, please. We can talk about this.”

  “No, we can’t,” he said. “But don’t worry, none of this matters. It’s all a dream.”

  “Please, what do you want me to do?” There were tears on my cheeks. “Just tell me.”

  “You can listen,” he said. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t.”

  I heard him slam the toolbox shut. Behind him, Julia’s voice began to get louder.

  “Please, Pete, this isn’t funny. Let me go.” A pause, then, “What are you doing?”

  Every muscle in my body felt ready to snap.

  “Pete,” I screamed into the phone. “Don’t!”

  Outside, the road sped by, and rain slammed against my windshield.

  Now Julia was screaming, telling him to stop. He didn’t, and she cried out. The sound came from somewhere deep inside, and it sucked all the air out of my lungs.

  “Evan, help me!”

  I heard the dull smack of metal against flesh, once, then again, and again.

  Julia kept calling for me, but this time her words blended into a thick, incoherent moan, as if she were trying to speak while biting her tongue. Then the moaning stopped, leaving only the sound of metal and the cracking of bone.

  I dropped the phone, pressed my head against the steering wheel, and screamed until my throat ripped. When I looked up, someone was standing in the road.

  A flash of blue.

  I jerked the steering wheel hard to the right and felt the car tip onto two wheels. I tried to adjust, but I was going too fast. There was a sick feeling of detachment as the car lifted off the road, spinning in silence.

  An instant later, the world exploded around me.

  After that, there was only darkness.<
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  ONLY darkness.

  “Evan?”

  One voice in the haze.

  “Baby, can you hear me?”

  Veronica’s voice, far off, barely a whisper.

  I opened my eyes and she was leaning over me, holding my hand. There were others, nurses or doctors, moving through the room. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move.

  “Just lie still,” Veronica said. “You’ve been in an accident. They’re taking you into surgery.”

  One of the nurses said something to Veronica, then she lifted the rails on the bed, and I was moving.

  I felt Veronica squeeze my hand, and even through the fog, I knew that was a good thing.

  “I’m going to be right here when you come out,” she said. “Don’t worry about a thing. I called your parents. They’re on the way. I can’t find Julia, but I left her a message. I’ll keep trying her.”

  I shook my head and tried to say something, but my mouth felt locked shut. When I tried to speak, all that came out was a low moan.

  Veronica shushed me, brushed the hair from my face. “We can talk when you wake up. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

  I thought of Julia and felt the tears push behind my eyes. I tried to tell her about Peter.

  Veronica frowned. “Peter?”

  I nodded.

  “I haven’t called him,” she said. “I can—”

  “Ma’am?” One of the nurses put her hand on Veronica’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here.”

  Veronica nodded, leaned in, and kissed me, soft. “Don’t worry about anything,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.”

  She let go of my hand and slipped away.

  I stared up at the fluorescent lights passing above me and tried to piece together what had happened. It came back to me in fragments, but nothing specific.

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember.

  At first, there was nothing, and then it came to me.

  Julia.

  I felt my breath hitch, and a wave of pain tore across my chest. One of the nurses put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Please, try to relax. You’re going to be fine.”

  I looked up at her, and she smiled. It was a sweet smile, calm and young, and it made me want to believe her.

 

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