Autumn's Eyes (Storm Season Book 1)

by J. L. Sutton

  There were no shadows between the street lights to hide my approach as I walked briskly down the sidewalk. If any dog on the street noticed me now, the whole neighborhood would know I was here before long. For once being a private investigator was a point in my favor. If something went wrong and somebody noticed me skulking about, it would at least provide me with a reasonable explanation. Experience also taught me to dress casually when I was on a job. Running around dressed in black or wearing a trench coat might work in the movies, but in real life it only drew attention to you. My pace slowed as I neared Hyde’s house, and I risked a quick glance around me to check for anyone watching before I took a short run-up and hopped over the picket fence.

  The house was fairly modern, a red brick two story monolith that dwarfed every other house on the street. A perfectly straight gravel path ran up to the front door but I kept on the trimmed grass at the edge of the building, passing the double door garage to my left on my way to the back of the property. A door leading inside the house was just around the corner next to a small window, but even in the light of the three quarter moon I couldn’t make out what room I was looking into. I reached into my pocket for the small flashlight I usually kept on my car keys, and as I ran the beam of light between the edge of the wood and the doorframe to my surprise I found the mechanism was unlocked. I was ready to use the set of lock picks and torsion bar hidden inside my jacket, and for once it looked like my luck was beginning to turn.

  After slipping inside I leaned against the door as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the faintly glowing neon green timer on the microwave giving off the only light in the room. Using a flashlight from here on out would’ve only caused problems, easy navigation wasn’t worth the police showing up, so with my hands stretched out in front of me I began to explore at an excruciatingly slow pace. A sliver of light from a nearby street lamp crept through a window, guiding me through the next room that ended in a stairway to the second floor. Keeping my weight on the balls of my feet I began to climb, each footfall on the wooden steps sounding like a roaring thud in the silence.

  My heart was racing by the time I reached the top step, and for almost five minutes I stood dead still while I listened for any hint of the house’s occupant. Looking around me I could make out two closed doors to my left, and a passageway that led straight ahead, just past a pair of black leather couches. Taking extra care to watch my footing I ignored the doors and headed to the end of the room. I felt a thick carpet under my shoes as I walked into the passageway, only to find myself faced with another three options. After shuffling towards a set of large wooden double doors I stopped for a moment to listen before trying the handle. Locked. Cursing under my breath I turned around and tried the door across from me.

  The first thing I noticed as I stepped into the room was the posters covering every inch of the walls. I couldn’t make out the individual pictures, but it wasn’t difficult to tell this was the wrong one. I left the door of what could only be a teenager’s room open and continued down the passageway. I was beginning to feel uneasy as I approached the third door. This house was as big as a hotel. I had already been here longer than I planned, and every minute spent skulking only added to the risk.

  Even in the near total darkness I was fairly certain the stately bedroom I walked into was almost as large as my comparatively crummy apartment. The edges of the elaborately shaped bedposts at the end of the room curled up to the ceiling like serpentine vines, protecting the unmoving shape in the middle of the bed. My shallow breathing quickened as I crossed the distance, so wrapped up in my singular need to confront Hyde that when I flipped the switch on the beside lamp the shock was powerful enough to lock my body into place.

  Hyde wasn’t alone tonight.

  Time slowed to a crawl as I stood gaping unintelligibly at the intertwined bodies draped over each other. I took an involuntary step back as Hyde shifted his head away from the light, the toe of my shoe catching the edge of the nightstand, knocking something off the table. A second passed before the sound of glass shattering echoed through the room, reverberating down the length of my body as I watched Hyde and the woman at his side shoot upright. His wide eyed gaze fell on me, and for a moment there was utter silence as we stared at each other. Then the woman let out a shriek, and all hell broke loose.

  The horrified sound coming from the woman died as Hyde shoved her roughly away and scrambled for the nightstand. Lunging at him without hesitation I caught his wrist and threw my weight onto his chest, pinning him against the headboard long enough for me to reach into my jacket pocket and draw out a sleek, single edged blade. Hyde struggled against my grip, flailing wildly with his free arm, but at the touch of steel under his throat his struggling ceased.

  “How dare you!” His voice was tinged with surprise and outrage.

  The woman beside him had her back to the far bedpost, her pupils fully dilated in fear. How had it come to this, that I was the one to be afraid of when she was in bed with this bastard?

  “Listen to me carefully,” I said slowly, emphasizing each syllable as I struggled to control my voice. “You are still alive because I’m a better man than you. But if you ever threaten anyone I know, anyone I ever so much as look at again, the next visit I make here will end very differently. No cops, walls or fancy lawyers are going to save you. Do you understand me?”

  He nodded hastily.

  “You sure? Because I don’t like repeating myself.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “What’s going on?” The woman pleaded.

  “Be quiet,” Hyde sneered, shooting her a look dripping with malice.

  Keeping the edge of the blade against his throat, I tucked his arm under my knee and reached into the half opened drawer where my fingers brushed over the cold steel barrel of a revolver. Slipping the knife back into my pocket I looked back at Hyde.

  My voice was surprisingly calm when I spoke again. “The only time I ever want to see you again is in court, with your ex-wife sitting across from you.”

  Taking the weapon in both hands I released the drum and dropped the rounds on the floor before tossing the gun onto the bed. I turned around to leave. Almost halfway across the room I heard the rustle of movement behind me, and I pivoted just in time to see Hyde sweep up the gun from the bed and throw himself onto the floor.

  Dashing across the room I collided with him as he slipped a round into the weapon, and we both went down against the side of the bed. Grasping the arm that held the gun with both hands I fought against him for control of the revolver, and there was a click as Hyde pulled the trigger and the hammer struck thin air, missing the only round in the drum. The woman shrieked as the barrel began edging towards her, a split second before the bedroom door burst open.

  “Stop!” A female voice cut across the room.

  Hyde was taken off guard by the sudden commotion, splitting his attention long enough for me to get out of my awkward position and overpower him. Realizing his mistake he redoubled his efforts, throwing a desperate swipe that should’ve caught me squarely in the jaw. But before it landed, I was torn away from him with enough force that I was thrown into the nightstand.

  The impact sent the lamp sailing over the edge, and with a sharp crack the room sunk into darkness. My eyes struggled to keep open, fighting against the blinding pain erupting from the back of my head. The woman on the bed resumed her screaming. A figure crouched beside me, panic flaring up in me for a moment before I realized it was too small to be Hyde.

  “You need to leave.” I could barely hear the words over Hyde’s hysterical woman, and without warning the figure gripped the back of my jacket with one hand and yanked me to my feet in a smooth motion. “Right now.”

  There was no time to second guess the woman that sounded so familiar.

  Stepping over the prone form of Hyde sprawled across the floor I made a break for the open door, the fear of running into something solid teetering constantly at the edges of my mind. My footsteps slapped loudly against the
wooden floor as I guided myself down the stairs, knowing full well that the mystery woman was just behind me. When I felt the lawn under my boots I slowed my pace, coming to a stop at the bushes I entered through earlier. If by some miracle the whole neighborhood wasn’t already in the street, it wouldn’t help the situation running out like a madman towards my car. When I was fairly certain there weren’t any sirens blaring I allowed myself a backward glance, and for the first time I saw the woman’s face clearly in the hazy moonlight.

  Dawn stood right beside me with her eyes closed, a strained expression plastered on her face.

  “What are you doing here?” I sputtered.

  She held up her hand to silence me, remaining still for a long moment before her eyes fluttered open. “No one is watching the street, but it will not stay that way for long. Head straight for your car and go, do not circle around the block.”

  “What are you doing here?” I repeated. “Why should I trust anything you say?”

  “Whether or not you should trust me is irrelevant,” she whispered, her voice taking on a desperate tone. “And either way we do not have time to stand around and argue about it. You need to get away from here. Please.”

  Every ounce of sense I possessed was screaming at me not to listen, pleading with me to grab the woman by her shoulders and shake her until I got answers to the questions burning inside of me since the night we met. Call it instinct, or maybe it was just bad decision making on a night that had plenty of mistakes to measure up against, but I didn’t hesitate.

  I ran.

  8. Choices

  Should’ve stayed in bed this morning.

  That was the overriding mood of my day so far. At least that’s what it was when I wasn’t trying to convince myself last night was nothing more than a dream. Going to the office after I crawled out of bed around midday seemed pointless, but more than anything I needed to get back to something resembling normal. Just thinking about how reckless I had really been left a bitter taste in my mouth. If I thought things through, like I usually did, then maybe last night would’ve turned out very differently. Hindsight’s a bitch that way.

  Scarier still, Dawn was right after all. Somehow I managed to get away last night without any trouble, opening up yet another line of questioning for me to dwell on, but for now that was firmly at the back of my mind. Betting on Hyde not running to the police was risky, but when they hadn’t shown up at my door with handcuffs this morning I figured I was in the clear.

  Not that they would have an easy time proving anything anyway—my alibi was pretty convincing. Some money well spent ensured Travis, a contact of mine with some impressive tech skills and deeply rooted issues with authority, would swear up and down I was with him all of last night. There was even a credit card trail I had him leave me at exactly the right time to back him up.

  The sun just began to dip into the horizon when I decided to head home. For the fourth time this month my assigned parking space was taken, so I slipped into a vacant visitor’s spot across from the stairwell, waving to Mrs. Duvall as she drove off with her husband before heading up to my floor. As I turned the corner I stopped in my tracks.

  Dawn leaned casually against my door, her head tilted towards me, spilling her dark hair across her shoulder. Mental pins and needles prickled the inside of my skull with more intensity than I remembered them having before. An uncomfortable sensation, but it did confirm two things.

  Firstly, I wasn’t going crazy—at least, not yet. The second had me immediately on my guard, because it was tangible proof Dawn was there the night of Eric’s party. I was sure of it.

  Finally recovering, I broke our eye contact as I looked down to sift through my keys. She detached herself from the wall as I took a step forward, and without a word I unlocked my door and stepped inside. Her footsteps followed behind me. I could feel her gaze on my back as I dropped my bag on the floor, opened the cupboard above the microwave and turned back to her with a tumbler in my hand, a bottle of unopened Kentucky bourbon Eric gave me last Christmas in the other. She stood next to the fridge across from me, her carefully composed expression slipping as she raised her eyebrow.

  It would have been funny, if the room wasn’t so steeped in tension. “I’m pretty sure whatever reason you’re here for is going to warrant me needing a drink.”

  She shrugged, looking away towards the door. “You would not be wrong.”

  Her answer brought me up short. As irritating as her appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly was, I also knew last night marked the second time she pulled me out of a sticky situation. The question on my mind was, why? Perhaps more importantly, why deny she helped me the first time?

  I drank in her appearance as I poured two fingers of the dark amber liquid into the glass. The short sleeve powder blue blouse she wore over faded blue jeans was a stark contrast against her glossy black hair, and I couldn’t bring myself to believe the delicate figure in front of me, that I had no less than sixty pounds on, tore me off Hyde like it was nothing. It shouldn’t surprise me though—I suspected for some time now there was more to her than an oddly helpful stalker. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as frail as she looked. Did my suspicions have any truth to them? Proof was a mercurial concept—it depended too much on the individual for validation. I had never have called myself superstitious until the night I met Dawn, but after everything that happened in the past few weeks I was fairly sure I was standing across the room from someone that wasn’t anything like me.

  “Why are you here?” I asked pointedly.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, never looking up as she spoke. “I am still deciding that myself.”

  “Well while you figure it out, I’d like some answers. I think you owe me a few.”

  “Aye, I do.” She sighed wearily. “I am just not sure exactly what to tell you. Things should never have been allowed to get this . . . out of control.”

  “Sure, that’s not cryptic at all,” I muttered to myself. I knew I should be treading lightly, after all I had no idea what her intentions were, but she was the one who came to me. She must want to tell me something. “What things, exactly?”

  “Would it be too cliché if I said it is complicated?”

  “I can keep up.” I took a seat at the counter, slowly sipping my drink in an attempt to hide my growing frustration at her answers that gave nothing away.

  “Fine. If I asked you to stay away from Hyde, and anyone that has anything to do with him—no questions asked. You would not do it, would you? Even if I told you it was for your own good?” The dejected look on her face told me she knew my answer before it crossed my lips.

  No. At least, not until I was sure he wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

  So this was connected to Hyde after all. Was she working for him? Seemed unlikely. It felt like she was looking out for me more than anything else. If that was true then why was she, and why wouldn’t she just tell me what she wanted from me? Everything felt upside down. Usually I was the one with all the information, but when it came to Dawn I wasn’t even sure what cards I was playing with. “What’s this got to do with you anyway?”

  For a moment she seemed unwilling to answer. I counted seventeen breaths before she looked up at me. “This has everything to do with me.”

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted.

  “You do not need to understand. Not yet.”

  “Would it kill you to give me a straight answer?” I snapped. “Why bother showing up here at all if you’re not even going to tell me why you’re here to begin with?”

  “I am trying to decide whether or not I should trust you.” Dawn’s gaze danced around the room as she spoke, her eyes never quite meeting mine. “Unfortunately, you have not left me with many options.”

  “Trust me?” I scoffed. “Last time I checked, you’re the one following me around. You’re the one who broke into my office and took my property.”

  I picked my words well—a fractional stiffening of her shoulders w
as all the proof I needed. She was involved. Dawn was hiding something, and she knew I was piecing it together. Knowing that, a trickle of fear I didn’t fully understand ran down my spine. Nothing about her seemed threatening, yet every inch of me knew I should be threatened.

  “An intriguing read,” she said lightly, turning to face me as she toyed idly with the braid in her hair. “I will admit I have made my share of mistakes around you. Still, you are rather perceptive for a . . .” Her words trailed off, leaving me wondering what she meant to say.

  “Did I at least get anything right?”

  “One or two,” Dawn admitted after a moment.

  I took a deep breath, knowing my next question might be pushing her too far, but as usual I just couldn’t help myself. “What are you?”

  “What, no guesses?” She smiled ruefully. It wasn’t much, but it was the first smile I had seen so far. It suited her far more than her usual guarded expression.

  “I’d never get it right.” I shrugged. After hours of research I came to that conclusion already. Even with all the puzzle pieces I had, I wasn’t even close to figuring that one out. Then again, it was ludicrously naïve to think I’d find the answer lying around in a book, or hidden in the dark corners of the internet. “But you already knew that.”

  “True, but it would still be interesting to hear what you came up with.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. So are we playing twenty questions all night, or am I getting some answers?”

  “Answer one of mine first.”

  Interesting. I could live with that, the direction of her question may just give me some insight into her. “Alright. I’ll play along, for now.”