by Amy Cross
I have no idea what she's up to, but she's alive, and that's the most important thing.
A moment later my phone buzzes and I see that I've received a message from Doug. When I tap to read the message, a shudder passes through my chest as I see what he's written:
HEY JESS, LOOKING FORWARD TO OUR 'DATE' 2MORO. HAHA! JK. BUT U KNOW WHAT I MEAN. SEE YOU BRIGHT & EARLY! :)
Chapter Twenty-One
Standing next to the police car, I watch as two officers stand at the top of the steps, talking to a guy who I can only assume is the landlord of the building.
Why haven't they arrested the camera man yet?
Or, if he's not home, why aren't they being more cautious and waiting for him to return?
Finally, after several minutes, Officer Patelli comes down the steps and crosses the street, making straight for me. Something about his sloping gait already tells me that he's not exactly on high-alert.
“Did you find him?” I ask anxiously.
“Miss Cassidy...”
“He's in the apartment at the top of the stairs. Number three!”
“Which we checked.”
“So did you -”
“And found to be empty.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but the words catch.
“Now, I'm not a cynical guy,” the officer continues, “so I'm going to assume that you're not simply trying to waste police time here. I think you genuinely believed that we'd find somebody in that apartment, and that maybe they'd even have recording equipment that fits with your story.”
“It's not a story,” I stammer, looking up at the front of the building. “It's what happened. Every word I told you is the truth! Why would I make it up?”
“The landlord says that particular apartment hasn't been occupied in about six months.”
“Then he's lying,” I reply, turning to the officer. “Surely you can see that, right? It can't be the first time somebody's lied to you. You're the police, people lie to you all the time!”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Not me!” I continue with a sigh. “I'm telling the truth, but that other guy, the landlord, he has to be lying!”
“The apartment is empty,” Officer Patelli replies, once again sounding distinctly unimpressed.
“So?”
“So there's no-one there.”
“Then he left early today. He realized I was onto him, and he bolted.”
“And persuaded his landlord to lie to us?”
“Maybe he paid him off!”
He sighs.
“I'm not insane!” I continue, before realizing that this is hopeless. Stepping past the officer, I make my way across the busy street and then I hurry up the steps that lead into the building. I don't even know what I'm going to do when I reach the apartment, but I have to do something.
“Miss Cassidy!” the officer calls after me. “Wait! I haven't finished talking to you! I need you to come back down here!”
The other officer tries to stop me, but I slip past her and run up the stairs. My heart is pounding, but I'm certain that I can get to the bottom of this. The man's apartment was messy and filled with junk, and I can barely believe that anyone could clear so much crap out in less than twenty-four hours. When I reach the door, however, I find that not only has it been left open, but there's a banging sound coming from inside.
I hesitate for a moment, before stepping into the hallway and finding that the place is empty.
“Can I help you?” the landlord asks, as he stops hammering a nail into the front room's floor. “Are you looking for a place to live?”
“He was here,” I reply, making my way into the room and looking around.
“Who was?”
“There was a man living here,” I continue, turning to him. “He had all this photographic equipment. Cameras, tripods, rolls of film...”
My voice trails off, and I can't help but notice that the landlord is staring at me as if I'm half crazy.
“There was a man living here last night,” I add, but I can already hear the doubt in my own voice. “It was this apartment, I swear.”
“Are you the lady who brought the cops here this morning?” he asks. “I already told them, this apartment has been empty for five or six months. I don't know what's going on with you, but I can promise you one thing. Nobody apart from me has set foot in the place since Mary Webster and her son moved out.”
Stepping closer to the landlord, I stare at him for a moment, before realizing that he's completely the wrong build for the camera man.
“Is everything alright here?”
I turn and see that Officer Patelli is right behind me. He looks worried, and I guess I don't blame him. As far as he's concerned, I probably seem like a complete lunatic, and it's clear that there's nobody living here in this apartment. The place has been stripped bare, and even I'm finding it difficult to believe the camera man was ever here. I keep trying to think of some other explanation, but there's only one thing that makes any sense at all.
I imagined the whole thing.
***
Stopping on my way back into my building, I spot a familiar figure climbing out of a security van nearby. My first thought is that I should just leave Julio alone, but at the same time I need to know whether he saw anything the other night. As I make my way over, however, I'm fully prepared for him to tell me to get lost.
Maybe that's what I deserve.
“Hey,” I say as I get closer. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
He glances at me, and I instantly see a hint of concern in his eyes.
“It's about last night,” I continue, “I just -”
“I really don't want to talk about last night,” he replies. “I was running around on a wild goose chase until the sun came up. You got me spooked, lady. You got me hearing things 'til I didn't know what was going on.”
“But you heard footsteps!”
“I heard something!”
“Exactly! And -”
“But I checked the place out,” he adds, “and there was no-one. And the longer I spent wandering about in the upper levels, the more I began to realize that you'd got that little worry-worm into my head. There's no way anybody was in the building last night. I know that now.”
“But you heard him!”
He shakes his head.
“And I saw him,” I continue. “I followed him to his home.”
“You did?” he asks skeptically. “Did you call the cops?”
“Of course, but they...”
My voice trails off as I realize that I can't possibly tell him about the empty, unused apartment. I must already seem like a headcase, and I'm in danger of going straight over the deep end.
“Your mind can play tricks on you,” he says after a moment. “Especially at night. Hell, you even got me worried last night. I was hearing things, running around after shadows, I was on the verge of losing my mind and ending up like -”
He catches himself just in time.
“Ending up like me?” I ask.
“That's not what I meant.” He checks his watch. “I'm pulling a double and I have two more places to check on. I wish I could help you, but I'm afraid I don't have time to stand around chatting. My advice to you would be to pull back, take some time to relax, and try to get your head straight. Running around like this can only lead to things getting worse. Sometimes we all need to get a grip and remind ourselves what's real and what's...”
He hesitates, before slipping a set of keys out of his pocket.
“Well, you know what I mean,” he adds, and now there's a hint of sadness in his voice. “I've got work to do.”
As he turns and heads toward the office block's front door, I open my mouth to call after him. I stop myself just in time, however, as I realize that he's absolutely right. Julio seems like a solid, grounded guy, and I think maybe I need to be more like him. I watch him disappear into the building, and then I feel a buzz in my pocket as my phone receives a messag
e. When I take a look at the screen, I find that it's Doug again:
GOT MY SUIT FROM THE CLEANERS HAHA. GONNA BE A ROCKIN WEDDING! LOL XXX
And that's when I realize that I have about forty-five minutes to pack and get on the road.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Oh my God,” Kelly roars as she hugs Angela outside the hotel, “where did you get that wonderful dress?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Angela replies. “Red is so hard to pull off, but you've really nailed it! And did you see Lizzie's dress? That woman has such wonderful taste.”
As they pull apart from the hug, Angela spots me and smiles. She quickly glances down at my dress, before coming over and shaking my hand.
“And how are you today, Jess?” she asks. “It's years since I last saw you! Are things going better for you?”
“Things are great,” I reply, forcing a smile as I shake first her hand, and then Angela's.
“I'm so glad you're out hospital,” Melanie continues. “I hated thinking of you locked away in that place.”
“I wasn't quite locked away,” I remind her. “It was voluntary.”
“Unless you'd tried to leave, eh?” she laughs, nudging my arm. “Seriously, Jess, I have so much respect for you. Conquering that breakdown must have taken so much strength. I remember what a mess you were when the paramedics and police took you away that night. You were yelling about something awful outside in one of the skips, about some woman with bits of cameras stuck in her eyes, and I honestly thought you were toast.”
I hesitate for a moment. “Toast?”
“You know... Done! As in, there was no hope for you. I thought you were a permanently broken woman. I've never been so glad to be proved wrong.”
“Me too,” Kelly says, before leaning closer and giving me a hug. “You look so much better!”
“Thank you,” I reply, even though I just want to go and hide somewhere. Before I can make any more small-talk, however, I hear someone coughing nearby, and I turn to see that Doug has returned with our drinks.
“And who's this?” Melanie asks, clearly jumping to all the wrong conclusions.
“Oh,” I reply, “he's just a -”
“Doug!” he says, grabbing her hands and giving them an enthusiastic shake. “I'm Jess's plus-one for the wedding. Make of that what you will, eh?”
He bumps my arm and gives me a wink.
“Um,” I stammer, “actually -”
“You two make such a cute couple!” Melanie roars. “See, Jess? We both told you that you'd find a man eventually! You just had to be patient and not let yourself seem too desperate!”
I swallow hard. “Sure,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
“We'd better go and see how the bride's doing,” Kelly says, patting me on the shoulder as she and Melanie slip past. “We'll catch up again later, Jess. I want to hear all about how well you've been doing since you were released from the psychiatric hospital!”
I flinch at those words, and finally I realize that I should set her straight on a few points. As I turn to call after her, however, I stop as soon as I see the puzzled, slightly anxious expression on Doug's face.
“Psychiatric hospital?” he says cautiously, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
***
“I said, it's impossible to talk in there with all that music!” Kelly yells, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me out into the hotel's reception area. “I can't hear a word anybody's saying!”
She promptly lets go of me and stumbles forward, swaying precariously before toppling over the back of a sofa and crashing down against the cushions. Her beautiful red dress crumples as she lands, hitching up way over her knees and exposing her white underwear. After a moment, she reaches down and tries to rearrange the fabric.
She's not drunk.
She's way, way beyond drunk.
“Why am I down here?” she groans, slurring her speech and waggling her feet in the air. “Jess, help me! I don't understand!”
I cast an embarrassed glance toward the receptionist, who conspicuously looks down at her computer. Heading around the sofa, I help Kelly to sit up. Her make-up is smudged and she can barely keep her eyes open, and I'm pretty sure she's going to pass out at any moment. I'm not sure I could manage to carry her up to her room, so I guess the best option might be to settle her here and hope she sobers up a little by the time the party comes to an end.
“I'm not right where I should be,” she groans, staring past me and looking toward the hotel's main entrance. “I mean, I don't feel right in my head. Everything's spinning.”
“I'm not surprised,” I reply. “You drank a lot of shots.”
“I think I drank a lot of shots,” she continues. “Why did I do that? Then again, why wouldn't I do that? I can't remember the last time I partied like this.” She turns to me. “Oh Jessie, you're so lucky. Going into that loony bin must have really put your head straight.”
“Something like that,” I tell her, as I realize I can't just leave her here on the sofa. I need to find someone who can help me carry her upstairs. Maybe Doug will come in handy after all. “Maybe I should -”
“Tell that guy to stop filming us,” she adds suddenly, before sitting up straight and pointing toward the window. “Hey! You! Fuck off with that camera, or I'll come and shove it up your ass!”
Startled, I turn and look over at the large glass window, but all I see is a reflection of the brightly-lit reception area. I can see myself, and I can see Kelly, and I can see the sofas and the potted plants and the receptionist. Of the area outside, I can only really see the rear bumps of some parked cars, but there's definitely no sign of anybody standing anywhere nearby.
“You!” Kelly shouts suddenly, still pointing at the window. “Get out of here! What the hell's wrong with you?”
“I don't think there's anyone there,” I tell her.
“It's some perv!” she continues. “I saw him earlier! He's had that bloody camera glued to his face all evening, and he doesn't even dare to come inside! It's one thing to take photos of a wedding, but at least bloody come in at some point and mingle!”
“There's no-one out there,” I tell her again, although I'm feeling a faint flutter of panic in my chest and I can't help watching the window for a moment longer, just in case there's some hint of movement.
Finally I turn back to Kelly and see that she's staring wide-eyed at the window, as if she's shocked by whatever she's seeing.
“Kelly,” I say after a moment, “seriously, you need to calm down a little, okay?”
“Fucking perverts,” she continues, stumbling to her feet and starting to totter around the sofa, before stopping for a moment and swaying. “I need another shot.”
“You need to rest,” I tell her, helping her to sit down in a nearby chair. “Wait right here, and I'll get you some water.”
“Tequila.”
“No, water.”
I glance at the window again, before heading back into the bar. The music is way too loud and I have to fight my way to the bar area, but finally I manage to get a pint glass filled with water. Several people try to stop me on the way back, but I slip between them all until eventually I spill back out into the reception area.
Kelly's gone.
“I'm sorry,” I say, heading over to the desk, “but did you see where my friend went?”
“Out there,” she replies, nodding toward the main door. “I think she saw someone with a camera, and she wanted them to stop filming. I think that was it, anyway.”
“She's out of her mind,” I mutter, carrying the glass of water past the sofa and over to the entrance. The main doors slide open and I head out into the cold night air, stopping in a patch of light and looking around at the dark parking lot.
I wait, but there's no sign of Kelly.
“Kelly?” I call out finally. “I got you some water!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Okay Doug,” I mutter, struggling to hold him up with one hand while
I use the other to swipe the hotel room's key card, “I'm going to get you to bed, and then I have to go back down and look for Kelly.”
“You're gonna get me to bed, stay for a cuddle, and then maybe go look for Kelly,” he replies, barely able to get the words out at all. “Got it.”
“No, that's not what I said...”
Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I start leading Doug through into the room. Like pretty much everyone else here at the wedding, he's absolutely wasted, and I'm pretty sure he'll pass out as soon as he hits the bed. He's stumbling badly and swaying all over the place, and the craziest part is that he isn't even the most drunk person here tonight. That honor probably goes to Angela's aunt Maggie, who passed out snoring loudly at the bar. As possibly the only non-drinker here tonight, I feel as if I've stumbled into some kind of bizarre world where nobody else makes sense.
“What am I doing back here?” Doug gurgles. “I wanna party.”
“You need to rest for a minute or two,” I tell him.
“When there's music to be playing, there's a Dougie gonna be swaying.”
He starts laughing, and he's still giggling to himself as I gently ease him down onto the bed.
“There you go,” I say, relieved to rid of the extra weight as I head through to the bathroom. “I'm going to get you a drink of water. I feel like I've been getting everyone a drink of water tonight.”
I fill a glass and then head back out, only to find that while he's loosened his tie, Doug is still sitting up awake on the bed. He's staring over at the TV, and there's a curious frown on his face.
“Drink this,” I tell him as I hold the glass out.
“There's a camera on that TV.”
“There is?”
I look over at the TV, and after a moment I see that there's a small black lens just above the screen.
“There are cameras everywhere,” he continues. “There's probably even one in the bathroom.”
“I don't think they'd be allowed to do that,” I reply, turning to him. He still hasn't taken the glass of water. “Doug, maybe -”
