Basic

by E. J. Mara

  I reopened them, glad no one had noticed my mini freak-out. No one needed to see how not ready for any of this I actually was.

  But, ready or not, I was doing it.

  I straightened my spine and told myself to look confident as Jonathan grabbed the jewel pin and attached it to the left lapel of my navy blazer.

  “This pin,” he explained. “Has a tiny camera, to give us a live view of everything you’re seeing. So, we’ll see what you see. Keep the pin on no matter what. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Jonathan’s blue eyes held mine as he said, “But we can’t get audio from that pin, so you’ll have to call one of us and keep your cell phone on the entire time you’re in his house. That way, we’ll hear everything you hear.”

  I nodded again. “Cell phone on, got it.”

  Jonathan picked up the fat pen and small camera. He took my hand, gently opening it and placing both items inside.

  “The pen is the listening device you’ll need to leave somewhere in his house,” he said. He pointed to the camera, “And this tiny black thing is a mini-camera that’ll let us see what’s going on. Leave them both somewhere inconspicuous, where he won’t notice them and move them. Just make sure you don’t put the camera behind something that will block our view of what’s happening, obviously.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to pretend like I didn’t notice Jonathan was still cradling my hand.

  “She looks professional,” Kimberly said with a huge grin. “She’s got tech equipment and she’s all ready to go! Let’s do this!”

  Jen and Lindsey agreed in typical cheerleader fashion.

  But Jonathan quietly held my gaze and gave my hand a squeeze.

  As I looked into his eyes I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was still waiting for me to back out and say I’d rather he do this.

  But, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Scared as I was, I wanted to do this myself. For Farrah and for other women like us.

  I had to do this.

  While Kimberly, Jen, and Lindsey continued to talk, I looked at Jonathan and quietly said, “This is mine. Okay?” With this, I removed my hand from his.

  He searched my eyes and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  I took a deep breath, stood and said, “Let’s go, guys. I’m ready.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was decided that I would drive Kimberly’s SUV to Timothy Dawes’ house. We all figured it was the most ‘adult’ looking vehicle that any of the four of us with vehicles had. Lindsey’s yellow convertible was too memorable, Jen’s car was too trashy, and Jonathan’s dad’s “Red’s Security” truck was way too noticeable.

  I drove, while Kimberly, Jen, Jonathan, and Lindsey sat squashed in the back of the Range Rover, so it would look like I was driving alone.

  The whole way over, Kimberly went through what I was supposed to do, step-by-step.

  “Just ask him if you can have, literally sixty seconds of his time to make your sales pitch. And once you’re inside, ask him for a glass of water. When he goes to get it, plant the bugs, when he comes back with the water, do not drink it! Okay? Got that? Don’t drink the water. Repeat after me: I will not drink the water.”

  I turned right on to Wyndham Drive, Timothy Dawes’ street, my heart pounding and my pits beginning to sweat.

  Was I going to be able to do this?

  I took a deep breath and said, “I will not drink the water.”

  “Good girl,” Kimberly said in a soothing tone. “And once he gives you the water, what do you do?”

  “I, um …” I hesitated. My mouth was beginning to get super dry. I gulped and said, “I say I’ve just had a call from a client and I excuse myself.”

  “Perfect,” Kimberly said, clapping her hands. The sound made me jump.

  “You’ve got this, Libby, you can do it,” Lindsey said.

  “Yeah,” Jen agreed. “And we’ll be right out here the whole time.”

  “Thanks guys,” I said.

  “Okay,” Kimberly said. “So, the address we need is 8123. It’s an odd number, which means it should be on the left.”

  “Libby,” Jonathan, who’d been quiet the whole way over, suddenly piped up, “why don’t I go with you?”

  Part of me wanted to say yes, but as I glanced at him in the rear view mirror I couldn’t help but see the situation through Timothy Dawes’ eyes. A boy and a well-dressed woman randomly show up at his door to give him real estate pamphlets? If that wasn’t suspect then I didn’t know what was. It would be a lot more believable if I went on my own.

  “Do you want him to go with you?” Kimberly asked.

  I realized I hadn’t said anything.

  “T-that’s okay,” I said, hating the way I stammered. “I’ll be fine.”

  “There’s the house, on the left,” Lindsey said just as I saw it.

  The place was a small, brick one-story that looked like it had been around since the 1970’s. The door was painted red, the shutters were peach and the porch was neat and clean, but old-fashioned.

  The house didn’t have a garage, only a carport. One black SUV was parked in the driveway, the same SUV Jonathan and I had seen on the footage from Alberto’s Stop N Go- the same SUV Farrah Duncan had been dragged into.

  I tensed, my gaze lingering on the vehicle.

  I took a deep breath, tore my eyes away from the SUV and parallel-parked in front of the house, a few feet away from the mailbox.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Jonathan asked as I put the Range Rover in park.

  Before I could reply, Jen said, “Oh-em-gee, Jonathan. You’ve asked her, like, eighty times. She said no. Leave the woman alone already.”

  I grabbed Lindsey’s briefcase and smiled at Kimberly and Lindsey when they wished me good luck.

  As I slid out of the SUV, I glanced at Jonathan where he sat in the backseat, squished between Jen and Lindsey.

  He looked a little green around the gills.

  In another words, he looked as sick as I felt.

  But he offered me a weak smile and I nodded, hoping I looked more confident than I felt.

  I closed the door.

  This is it. This is the moment I do something for Farrah- something I hope someone out there would do for me.

  Keeping this in mind, I straightened my posture and marched up the sidewalk leading to Timothy Dawes’ house.

  I grabbed my phone, dialed Kimberly’s number and she wordlessly picked up.

  I stuck the phone in the pocket of my skirt, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally hang up.

  The red door was just ahead, I kept my focus on it, mentally repeating what I was supposed to say once Farrah’s kidnapper opened the door.

  Within seconds, I found myself in front of the door, ringing the bell.

  My heart pounded so powerfully I felt it thumping in my chest, stomach, and even in my temples.

  I took another deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  The red door opened.

  A tall, broad-shouldered and heavy-set middle aged man who I immediately recognized from his Facebook pictures stood in the doorway.

  His brown hair was cut neatly and his dark brown eyes were slightly bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept in ages. He wore a dark flannel shirt, untucked over a pair of jeans.

  He towered above me in the doorway, at least 6’2 in height.

  He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering a hair too long at my chest. He frowned as he asked, “Can I help you?”

  I smiled and looked into his eyes, which seemed to catch him off guard.

  “Hi,” I grinned even wider and chuckled for no reason. “This is going to sound a little silly, but I’m a new real estate agent in the area. I just moved here from Florida and I think your house is so adorable. I know you weren’t expecting some ditzy real estate agent to, like, pop up at your door, so I promise I will shut up in approximately sixty seconds. Okay?”

  I laughed so much that he actually cracked a sm
ile. He crossed his arms and leaned against his doorframe, his gaze returning to my chest.

  I tried not to wonder if I’d accidentally left a button unbuttoned or something. Instead, I focused on being the perky real estate agent who Kimberly and I decided should be named ‘Cindy Hadley.’

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not busy.”

  “Perfect!” I beamed and stuck out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Cindy, Cindy Hadley. And like I said, this will only take sixty seconds or less, but… oh, can I come in for a second and we can get out of this sun, pretty please?” I laughed again.

  He hesitated, and then inched off of the doorframe, wordlessly stepping aside as he opened the door wider.

  “Thank you so much!” I ducked inside and he closed the door behind me.

  My heart thundering in my chest, I spun around, taking in the sight of his home.

  “My God, it’s even prettier on the inside,” I exclaimed, looking at the foyer we’d entered.

  It had old-fashioned linoleum floors and a small piano sat a few feet away from the front door.

  “Look at these bones,” I exclaimed. “I could get you at least a half a million for a place like this. It’s so solid. Oh! I’m in love!”

  Continuing to gush with soft “Oh’s” and “Isn’t this just perfect’s”, I traipsed out of the foyer and into a large living room where I was greeted by beige carpet, white walls, and a brown sofa set.

  On one side of the room were a set of large windows overlooking a nice-sized backyard. On the other side of the room, just behind the sofa set was a fireplace with a mantle shelf containing books.

  I glanced at the mantle shelf again.

  That was my target area. If I put the camera there, it would give us a perfect view of the entire living room. And I could set the pen in between the books, where it would go unnoticed.

  “You really think I could get a half a million for this place?” Timothy Dawes asked in a deep voice, his tone doubtful.

  Trying to ignore how much I wanted to run away screaming, I smiled and nodded with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader. “Absolutely! Like I said, this home has fantastic bones. This is the kind of place Millennials are looking for. Homes with character they can make their own. Let me grab a brochure for you to look over.”

  “Oh, please sit,” he said, gesturing to the couch.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, sitting on the very edge of the couch while he parked himself beside me. The house smelled clean, like lemons and Lysol. But something about it still made me want to vomit. Dismissing the feeling, I opened Lindsey’s briefcase and retrieved one of the brochures she’d given me. “So this is the firm I just started working for-” I coughed.

  Placing a hand over my chest, I coughed again.

  “Are you all right? Would you like some water?” he asked.

  “Please, thank you,” I sputtered, in between coughs.

  “I’ll be right back,” he disappeared around the corner and as soon as he was gone I grabbed the camera and pen from Lindsey’s briefcase. My hands shaking, I tiptoed to the fireplace, shoved the pen between copies of Great Expectations and Moby Dick and set the tiny camera between two Jack Reacher novels.

  With this, I hurried back to the couch.

  I glanced around, noting a dark hallway just ahead and to my left. It looked like it led to a series of bedrooms. I couldn’t help but wonder if Farrah Duncan was locked in one of them.

  Timothy Dawes came around the corner with a bottle of water and a glass of ice.

  “Thank you so much!” I said, coughing for good measure.

  “Sure,” he said shortly. He set the glass on top of a coaster and opened the bottle of water, pouring it into the glass for me. “So, what brought you here all the way from Florida?”

  My mind momentarily went blank.

  I hadn’t anticipated any personal questions.

  “Thank you,” I said. He sat beside me, only inches away. I stalled by taking a sip of the water. “That’s much better, thanks so much.”

  “Sure,” he repeated, looking at me expectantly.

  “My mother,” I said, turning to him. “She’s in… hospice.” I looked down, feigning sadness. “She was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago and I should’ve come out here earlier, but she told me she’d be all right. But she wasn’t all right. She lied. And now, she’s in hospice.”

  “I’m sorry, that must be rough,” he said. “How long does she have?”

  I gulped. “Six months.”

  I took another long sip of water, wracking my mind for something more to say.

  “My mother died when I was nine,” he said. “It’s tough, losing a parent.”

  I glanced at him, wondering if he’d killed his mother.

  He met my eyes and chills moved up and down my arms.

  I thought of Mom and of all the times she’d pretended to be in love with creeps.

  What would she say to this creep? How would she ignore her feelings and win him over?

  I smiled at him sympathetically and said, “I’m sorry you went through that. Nine is such a young age to lose someone you love.”

  “We weren’t close,” he took a deep breath and pursed his lips. “To be honest, she was a junkie. A drug addict. She died from an overdose.”

  He was staring off into the distance, towards the hallway I’d noticed earlier.

  “That’s just awful,” I said quietly. “But you’ve done well for yourself, clearly. I mean, this house is nice and you seem so well put-together. It’s amazing to see someone come out of a rough situation with strength and fortitude. It’s inspiring. And I’m sure anyone who knows you would agree that you’re an inspiration.”

  I was babbling, saying anything that came to mind and seemed to halfway make sense. To stop myself, I picked up the water and finished the entire glass.

  He turned to me and looked me up and down. “You’re a nice woman, Cindy.”

  Coldness moved through me like an internal warning.

  This was getting uncomfortable.

  I covered my anxiety with a bright smiled and said, “I’m also a woman who just drank way too much water, way too fast. Would you mind terribly, if I used your restroom? I’m so sorry.”

  He returned my smile and said nothing, simply staring into my eyes like he was trying to hypnotize me.

  I grinned and pretended to be just as enraptured with him.

  Finally, he pointed to the hallway and said, “My bathroom is your bathroom. First door on the left.”

  I stood, feeling his eyes on me as I started towards the hallway.

  “You know what?” he suddenly asked, his voice startling me.

  I jumped, my hands sweaty and my knees weak, as I turned back to him.

  “What’s that?” I asked weakly.

  He was smiling and his eyes were slightly narrowed in that look guys get when they’re trying to be cute and flirty.

  My stomach turned.

  “I just bought one of those Chantilly cakes from Whole Foods,” he said. “Would you like a slice when you come back?”

  “Sure, that sounds delicious,” I grinned. “Thank you!”

  He returned my smile with a slow one, his eyes boring into mine before sliding down my body.

  I wanted to hurl.

  Instead, I forced a chuckle and said, “I won’t be long,” before heading to the hallway.

  Behind me, I heard the couch groan as he stood and then the sound of his footsteps as he padded into the kitchen.

  I turned around to make sure he was out of sight.

  He was.

  Moving quickly, I hurried past the bathroom and walked down the hallway, looking at the doors on my right and left.

  If he caught me, I’d tell him I got confused and thought he said the third door on the left, or something like that… whatever.

  I stopped at a door to my right. It was partially opened. I nudged it a bit more and peered into an incredibly neat and orderly bedroom.

&n
bsp; Nothing there.

  Moving along, to the second door on the left, I opened it carefully and glanced at another orderly room- an office, equipped with a desktop computer and a bookshelf with tons of books.

  I closed the door as soundlessly as I could and, my heart in my throat, hurried along to the last door on the left.

  It had a deadbolt lock on the outside of the door.

  I frowned.

  Why would he have a lock on the outside of this door?

  The answer to this question sent a shiver throughout my entire body.

  My hands trembling, I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. As soon as I did, a terrible smell, like rotting flesh, rushed towards me.

  I gagged.

  I steadied myself, covered my nose with my hand and held my breath to keep from throwing up, and peered into the room.

  Unlike the rest of the house, this room wasn’t carpeted, it had linoleum flooring. And it was nearly empty, except for a single folding chair in the middle of the room, a rope that was coiled underneath the chair and a large, plastic tarp to the right of the chair.

  The tarp was covered in red and brown fluid.

  I shut the door, locked the room and threw up in my mouth.

  Determined not to choke on my own puke in the middle of a murderer’s house, I swallowed the vomit, marched to the sofa where I’d left Lindsey’s briefcase, picked it up, and ran out of the house.

  Dizzy, gagging, and so sick I thought I might pass out, I ran blindly to the SUV.

  I didn’t think, I just ran.

  As I approached the vehicle, I saw that Kimberly was already in the driver’s side, with the engine running.

  I climbed into the passenger seat, deaf to everything my friends were saying as we pulled away from Timothy Dawes’ house.

  All I heard were the sounds of our tires squealing and the odd, gurgling noises coming from me while I threw up all over the floor of Kimberly’s Range Rover.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Once we were safely back in the break room of Red’s Security, Kimberly sat beside me holding one of my hands while Jen got me a Sprite from the vending machine and Lindsey sat on my other side, her hand on my shoulder. Jonathan stood a few feet away, his arms folded across his chest, frowning while he watched us.