Storm warning, p.20
Storm Warning, page 20
“What?”
“The driver’s-side door—did you know the latch doesn’t really work?”
I nod my head. “Yes, I do know that.”
Alaina appears more awake, more energetic now. The coughing has stopped, the crying slowed. Maybe telling the tale has invigorated her. “I waited until the pressure started to equalize, until the water was over the door, and I pushed.”
“How did you know to do that?”
“I saw a YouTube video about it once. I always expect disaster. Anyway, I pushed hard…and the door opened. Water poured in for a minute, but then I got out.”
I’ve been holding my breath, listening. “How did you get to shore?”
“I was lucky. The driver’s side was on the island side. I just started swimming. I swam and swam. I fought against the current. Jake, I kept thinking something was going to come up out of the water and get me. Or some giant piece of debris would come floating by…but I swam and I swam…. I think it took, like, four hours.”
“It must have felt that way.”
“All of a sudden, I saw the shore ahead of me. Then my feet touched the bottom. I literally dragged myself out of the water.” She pulls her other hand out from the covers and holds them both up for me to see. The left looks worse than the right. Scraped, bloody. The nails ragged and torn. Like she’s been in a brawl. A true fight for her life. “When I got up onshore, the wind was blowing so hard it literally knocked me over. I just stayed there, lying on the sand. The rain felt like ice on my face. But I was so relieved…. I don’t know how long I lay there. I was soaking….”
“What did you do?”
“I finally got up…. I didn’t know where to go. So I just came home. Can you believe the keys were still in my pocket? I just came in here…took my clothes off…and collapsed in the dark…. I think I was kind of out of it….”
“Did you see anyone? When you came into the apartment. Did you see Stanley?”
“Stanley…Why would he be in my apartment?”
“You didn’t see anyone? Not even—not even the guy in the other room?”
“No. What guy?”
I look behind me again and then back at her. “Alaina, listen to me.” Her eyes grow bigger. “We need to make sure the apartment is safe before we do anything else.”
Fifty-Seven
Alaina tries to sit up.
I reach out, attempt to steady her as she rises.
She hesitates, lifts her battered hand to her forehead.
“Maybe you shouldn’t—”
“No. I’m okay. I think.”
She remains still for a moment. I keep my hands extended in case she wavers or falls, but she doesn’t.
“I can do it myself.” She tosses the covers back. She’s wearing a purple bathrobe.
I step back while she swings her bare feet off the bed and onto the floor. She hesitates again, rubbing her forehead and brushing the hair out of her face.
“Do you have clothes to put on?”
“Of course. This is my apartment.” She must be feeling better. She hasn’t lost her sassiness. “You said a man was in my apartment? Who? Why do we have to see if it’s safe?” She scratches her head. “And did you say Stanley was in here? Stanley?”
“Get dressed, okay? I’m going to check the apartment. There have been a lot of—well, a lot of looters around. I’ll check the apartment, and then we can figure out what to do. Okay?”
Alaina sits on the edge of the bed, her feet flat on the floor. Her hands rest in her lap. She rubs the belt of the robe between her thumb and index finger. “This is about Dallas, right? You think whoever killed him is still running around. Right?”
“Yes. Someone attacked Ethan too. In his apartment. And someone tried to get into Lloyd’s apartment. We’re all hiding there together.”
“Lloyd’s?” Her lip curls. “Why are you there?”
“Can you just get dressed? I need to make sure no one else is here. At this point, I’m guessing not, but who knows?”
But Alaina doesn’t move. She remains on the edge of the bed, the belt getting worked over between her fingers. She stares into the distance, as if she’s seeing something far away.
“Are you feeling light-headed?”
She shakes her head. “You know, I do kind of remember something when I came inside. I think…”
“What’s that?”
“I think…” She drops the belt, looks right at me. “I think—maybe Stanley was in here when I came in. I think somebody was.” She starts nodding, as if the memories are sharpening in her mind. “Yeah, when I came in, I stumbled into the living room. I fell…went down to one knee. I didn’t think I could get up, and I just wanted to roll over and go to sleep on the floor. I was still in all those wet clothes. I was freezing. The water and the rain felt really fucking cold.”
“So, what happened?”
“I was about to black out. To pass out on the floor. If I’d stayed on the floor in those wet clothes all night, I guess I might have gotten pneumonia or something. But someone helped me up. They put their arm around me and brought me to the bedroom.” She shivers. “Do you think…Did I undress myself…or…?”
“Do you think Stanley helped you?”
Alaina shudders. “Oh, God.” She lifts her hand to her mouth like she’s going to vomit. “He’s such a creep. He’s always sneaking around, trying to talk to me. Do you think he took my clothes off?”
“Do you?”
“I’m not sure…. I wouldn’t have let him anywhere near me if I could help it. He was talking about something….”
“What did he say? Do you remember?”
“I don’t know. None of this makes sense….”
“You need to get dressed.” I step through the door, reach back to pull it shut. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“I think he was saying something about getting on a boat. Does that make any sense to you?”
Fifty-Eight
While Alaina gets dressed in her bedroom, I check the rest of the apartment.
Nothing in the bathroom. The small laundry closet—totally empty.
In the living room, I play the beam over Tyler’s body, trying to see what I can learn. An impromptu amateur-hour crime-scene investigation.
Multiple gashes mark his head. Someone hit him with something. Something hard and blunt. A flashlight? Stanley was carrying one all night.
Tyler’s hands remain tied but are clenched into fists, as if they froze in that position when he died. Tyler was a sitting duck. Whoever found him here had the easiest time in the world beating him to death. It must have been like pummeling a scarecrow or a mannequin.
The enormity of Tyler’s death—and my role in it—falls over me, descending like a blackout.
Guilt and regret sear through me, moving from my back to my chest like a burning stake driven through my body. Bile chokes the back of my throat.
If I’d stayed with Dallas, he might still be alive. If I’d stood up to Stanley, Tyler might too.
All I really accomplished was keeping a gag out of Tyler’s mouth. Maybe Tyler berated the killer as he died.
This guilt will stay with me my whole life. I know it. It doesn’t matter if Stanley is the real killer. I still bear some of the responsibility.
Alaina thinks Stanley helped her to bed. Maybe even undressed her.
But she was also in such a state of distress, she didn’t even notice Tyler’s body. How can she be certain it was Stanley and not someone else?
No doubt Stanley had something against Tyler. He suspected him of spying for the owners. He also believed Tyler was the one who attacked Ethan, and possibly Dallas. Did Stanley finish Tyler off and flee the island in the dinghy? Why not leave him tied up until the cops showed?
Unless Tyler knew something Stanley didn’t want everyone else to know. But what?
The bedroom door clicks open. I move to the hallway to prepare Alaina for what she’s about to see.
Tyler. All the blood.
If she really hasn’t seen him yet.
“Alaina, hold up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just hold up a minute.”
She’s wearing leggings, sneakers, and a heavy sweatshirt. She’s washed her hands and scrubbed some of the dirt out from under her nails. Her hair is dry, and she smells like fruit. It’s a shocking transformation.
“Do you know a man named Tyler?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Tyler. He works security for the building owners.”
“We have security here? Sure couldn’t tell.”
“Do you know him?”
“I don’t think so. Is that the man you said might be in the apartment?”
“He is in the apartment.”
Alaina tries to look past me to the living room. “What’s going on, Jake? I don’t need to be bullshitted.”
“Did he ever try to collect rent from you? Or threaten eviction?”
Alaina turns back to me, her eyes flashing. “Oh, no. Don’t start that shit. That’s between me and Dallas. I don’t need every old gossip in this building talking about me making fucking rent. Fuck that, Jake.”
“You don’t know the guy?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“You don’t remember much. It seems like it’s all a blur to you. So maybe—maybe you do know him.”
Alaina places both of her hands on my left arm. With surprising strength, she pushes me aside.
I let her go and trail her to the living room.
Alaina stares down at Tyler’s battered body. She doesn’t show much reaction. No shock or disgust.
No turning away. It makes me wonder what else she’s seen in her short life.
I wait a few moments before I ask, “Do you know him?”
“Hard to tell with all the blood and shit, but I think I’ve seen him. On the island.”
“With Stanley?”
She turns my way. “Stanley? No. Alone, I guess.”
“And he never asked you for rent or anything like that? Because you don’t seem that upset about him being here, in your apartment…like that.”
Her eyes bore into me. Unwavering. “Jake, I’ve seen some shit in my life.” She points toward the Intracoastal. “I almost died, for fuck’s sake. Do you think this guy’s dead body is going to bother me? He can’t bite.”
I’d thought Alaina was dead. And I’d thought she died because I handed her my car keys.
Thank God she’s okay.
“Why are you asking me all these questions, Jake? Do you think I’m the bad guy here?”
Fifty-Nine
“I don’t know, Alaina. I really don’t. But Stanley is nowhere to be found. That doesn’t look good.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You might as well come down to Lloyd’s with the rest of us.”
“No doubt. I have no desire in hell to be alone with all this shit going on.” But Alaina makes no move to leave the apartment. She remains in place, still staring down at Tyler’s body.
Maybe, despite her bravado, she’s in shock. Or maybe she’s feeling the lingering effects of the accident. She places a hand on her forehead, starts to wobble.
I step closer, reach to steady her. “Do you need to sit?”
“No, I’m okay, I think. Yeah, I am. I’m okay.”
“Do you feel sick? Is the blood bothering you?”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Did you hit your head when you went off the bridge?”
“No.” Her voice comes out sharp, angry. “I told you it’s none of those things, Jake.” She lets out a sigh. “Can I ask you something? Who all is down in Lloyd’s apartment?”
“Everybody left in the building. Except Dallas, of course. And Stanley, I guess. Wherever he went.”
“Ethan?”
“Yeah, he’s there. Why?”
She sighs again. Resignation seeps out of her body. She keeps a hand on her forehead, but it feels like it’s there so she doesn’t have to look at me.
“We should get out of here, Alaina—this is a crime scene.”
“Jake, I think I can share this with you…. I trust you, okay? You know—hell, everybody in this building knows— What I am saying is, everybody in this building knows everybody else’s shit. All. The. Time. It’s fucking annoying. I’ve had substance abuse issues. You knew that about me, right?” She lowers her hand, cuts her eyes my way.
I nod. “Yes, I’ve heard that. But, Alaina, I don’t—”
“I quit. I really did. I haven’t been taking anything for about a month. I’ve been going to meetings and everything.”
“Okay, good.”
“That’s where I wanted to go tonight…when you gave me the car. I wanted to go to a meeting. I wanted to find one in town.”
“In a hurricane? Wouldn’t they cancel all that?”
“I don’t know.” She pulls away from me and walks over to the couch. She plops down so hard it’s as if gravity sucks her into the cushions. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. Not at all.”
“I’m sorry I gave you the keys.”
She’s shaking her head, and her hair, knotted on top of her head, bobs around. “It’s not your fault. I wanted to go. I needed to go. I was desperate. See…Ethan…me and him, we…”
“Oh. I didn’t know that. Maybe everybody else did, but I didn’t.”
“We tried to keep it, you know, low-key.”
“I didn’t know Ethan left his apartment.”
“He doesn’t. I usually went there. Well, that doesn’t matter.”
“I get it, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Alaina, but given everything going on, it’s best that we’re all together. You can stay on the other side of the room. It should be fine.”
Her head continues to shake. “It’s not because of the sex, Jake. I don’t care about that. I’m not a prude.”
“Okay. Then what?”
Alaina examines one of her hands. She turns it one way and then the other, studying the marks like she hasn’t really seen them yet. “Ethan does that IT job, remotely. But he also does something on the side.” She blows on the back of her right hand like it’s burning. “He deals, you know? Low-key, but he deals. Did you know that?”
I did not know that. And I’m more than a little surprised. All of a sudden I feel as old as an out-of-touch grandfather. “No, I didn’t.”
“I don’t care. It should all be legal anyway. But I can’t handle it. I can’t even handle alcohol.”
“Did Dallas know about Ethan?”
Alaina examines her other hand. And continues to not look at me. “He didn’t. I don’t think. Not until this morning. Ethan came by my place, and he wanted me to try something. A new product. We kind of got into it. An argument. Dallas heard us. He sent Ethan up to his apartment. And Dallas told Ethan he was going to report him to the owners, maybe the police. I’ve never really seen Dallas that way. He’s usually pretty chill. Or he was, I guess.”
“He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to bother you before you left.”
“So Ethan tried to get you to use again, and you had a fight. Did you do it?”
“I didn’t. But I was so worried about it all day, just totally stressed. That’s why I wanted to get to a meeting.”
My mind replays the events of the day…seeing Ethan downstairs, smoking in the garage. I remember exactly what he said to me—I’m not a bad guy, am I, Jake?
I couldn’t begin to guess what he was talking about at the time. But now it makes sense. Was he talking about trying to knock Alaina off the wagon?
That wasn’t long before Dallas ended up dead. Maybe an hour or so. Dallas, who had threatened to evict Ethan or call the police on him for dealing…
Is it possible the person who attacked Ethan was looking for drugs? Maybe the assault had nothing to do with Tyler?
Ethan’s down the hall in the apartment with everyone else, including my family, while I stand here talking to Alaina.
“Come on,” I say. “You need to get up. We need to join the others.” I walk over, extend my hand. “Come on.”
“Are you worried about Ethan too?”
“Let’s just go back. It’s safer if we’re all together.”
Alaina takes my hand and pulls herself off the couch. “You think Ethan killed Dallas, don’t you?”
“I don’t think anything except that we need to do whatever we can to stay safe.”
“Maybe he killed Dallas…and this guy.”
I start for the door, trying my best to ignore her.
Sixty
3:23 a.m.
Outside on the walkway, something’s different.
I brace myself to be slapped back by the wind, but it doesn’t happen. The wind still blows, but not nearly as hard as it has the rest of the night.
The rain still falls in sheets too, but it doesn’t blow onto the walkway anymore.
“Why are you stopping?” Alaina asks.
“The storm. It’s slowing, right?”
“I mean, just a little.”
“It’s already made landfall. We could be getting close to the eye passing over us.”
“It’s still windy as shit. I’m going.” She moves past me before I can stop her.
“Hold on.” I catch up to her. “Let me go in first. As soon as you walk in, everyone will think they’re seeing a ghost.”
“They are, Jake. I should have died.”
“Do you have any idea how relieved I am that you didn’t?” I put my hand on her arm. “Just stay away from Ethan, okay? We’ll sort it all out when the police get here.”
I start walking, until I realize Alaina isn’t next to me.
