Close your eyes, p.12
Close Your Eyes, page 12
But planning what?
What was the end game here?
Katie had only met Duncan’s former stalker—her current stalker—one time. In the ladies room at Cooper’s while Duncan had been bartending. She had been squatting over the toilet, returning the two beers she’d just had, and someone knocked on her stall.
She exited the interstate onto WI-25 heading north, and Katie’s memory came back in a rush…
• • •
Seeing the feet under the privacy door, Katie thought a man had come into the washroom. Black jeans and black Doc Martens. But the voice that accompanied the knock was definitely female.
“Katie? Can I have a second of your time?”
Katie wondered WTF was happening. “I’m pissing.”
“You can’t multitask? It’s about Duncan.”
Katie finished and pulled up her underwear and skirt. She peeked through the crack in the door and saw a blue eye staring inside.
Katie opened the door—
—and saw a girl she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Kelli Lyons?”
“I just use Lyon these days. You’re Katie, right? Katie Greers?”
Katie didn’t acknowledge it.
“You remember me?” Lyon continued. “From middle school?”
“Sure.”
Everyone in middle school remembered Kelli Lyons. Shy, kept to herself, and was pulled out of school after smashing the class gerbil, Oprah, with the class Webster’s Dictionary.
No one saw it happen. But rumors were plentiful.
Some claimed she placed the book on it then jumped up and down.
Some said she ate Oprah’s guts after it died.
Some said she ate Oprah’s guts while Oprah was still alive and squealing.
Kelli never returned to school, but the general consensus was she was sent to military school, or a mental hospital. Her mother, a known hoarder and recluse, never left her house and never spoke of it to anyone.
The girl had changed a lot in the past sixteen years. No longer a thin, tiny blonde, she’d grown body-builder size. Her hair was dyed blue and pink, and she had a nose ring, two eyebrow rings (though her brows were shaved), and both ears were pierced multiple times, including lobes that had been stretched out to fit in tribal rings wide enough to fit a finger through.
Lyon was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re seeing Duncan.”
It was more like an accusation than a question.
Katie had dealt with enough threatening passengers to recognize hostility. She’d been trained how to de-escalate.
Stay calm.
Be respectful.
Remain attentive.
Show apathy.
“We’ve been going out together,” Katie answered, keeping calm.
“Did he ever mention me?” Lyon asked.
“We don’t talk about the past much.”
Lyon’s voice was as neutral as her expression. “How do you know Duncan?”
“Have you asked Duncan?” Katie replied.
Lyon laughed, which came out like a bark. “Duncan and I have a… complicated… relationship.”
Katie tried to slip past her, but Lyon blocked her exit.
“What can I help you with, Lyon?”
“Can’t two ladies discuss boys in the ladies room?”
“I feel like you’re standing in my way, Lyon.”
“That’s cute. I feel the same way about you.”
“Duncan’s tending bar right now,” Katie said. “How about I buy you a drink?”
Her flight attendant training, kicking in hard.
“Do you suck his cock, Katie?”
This time Katie pushed past, even though Lyon gave her a shoulder bump. She went straight for the bathroom exit, pushing it open as Lyon snagged her purse strap and almost pulled Katie off her feet.
Katie turned, her feet planted wide, her hands in fists. She’d dealt with bullies before, and Lyon was about to get popped in the mouth.
Lyon immediately let go of Katie’s purse and raised up her palms. “Easy there, tiger. Just got my arm tangled up.”
“What is it you want, Lyon?” Katie hated that her voice didn’t sound as strong as she wanted it to sound.
Lyon smiled wide, her eyes dead. “I got what I wanted. Good to see you again, Katie.”
Katie turned and left the bathroom. When Duncan saw Katie he smiled, then his smile immediately faded when he noticed who came out the door behind her.
“Lyon!” Duncan said. “Out! Now!”
Lyon began to laugh in a way that was both hysterical and fake at the same time. “Your latest piece of ass is scrawny, Duncan.”
“You want me to call Stoker?” Duncan said.
Everyone knew Stoker was Spoonward’s police chief.
“Don’t be such a pussy, Duncan,” Lyon said. “I’m leaving. Just stopped in to use the shitter. See you around, Katie.”
Lyon left the bar, and a shaken Katie sat at her stool.
“You okay?” Duncan put his hand on hers to steady it.
“Want to tell me about that?”
“She started coming around here a few months before I met you. Once got really trashed, and tried to drive home. I was closing up, so I offered to drive her. While I was taking her to her place she tried to blow me. Really pushy about it, grabbing and squeezing my balls, trying to get my pants off. I told her no, a bunch of times. She got really pissed, and tried to claw my face off. I had to pull over and yank her out of the passenger seat. Parked on the side of the road and called the cops while she kicked my door and broke two windows.”
“Jesus. Why didn’t you leave her there?”
“She was wasted. Could have gotten hurt. Better to let her beat on my ride and the police could escort her home.”
“Did you file charges? Sue?”
“Neither.”
“Why not?”
Duncan scratched his nose. “I guess because I’ve gotten drunk before, done stupid shit. I wouldn’t want one bad day to follow me around for the rest of my life.”
“Seems like she’s still following you around.” Katie glanced back at the exit to make sure Lyon was still gone.
“Gets better,” Duncan said. “She kept coming to the bar, harassing me and other customers. I had to actually get a restraining order.”
“Doesn’t seem to be working too well.”
“Captain Stoker keeps cutting her slack. I think he knew her mom, felt bad for her.” Duncan shrugged. “Small town problems, right?”
Katie smiled, trying to make light of it. “Is that why you gave me a pepper spray keychain on our second date?”
Duncan smiled back, sheepish. “Yeah.”
“I thought it was for when you got too frisky.”
“I can get frisky,” Duncan said. “But that woman is flat-out crazy.”
• • •
“That was an understatement,” Katie mumbled to herself, directly addressing that first-meeting memory.
She checked her gas gauge.
Quarter of a tank. Forty-mile range. I should be able to make it to Duncan’s parent’s place without having to stop for gas.
Her cell buzzed, and she hoped it was Duncan while dreading that it could be Lyon again.
It was Lyon.
She’d texted a picture of Duncan and Katie. A familiar one, a selfie Katie had taken the first time they’d put his pontoon in the water. Duncan sitting at the captain’s chair, Katie in his lap with his arm around him, both smiling wide with a tinged-sky image of Big Lake Niboowin in the background.
How did Lyon get that pic?
U THINK DUNCAN CAN BE HAPPY WITH A UGLY WHORE LIKE YOU?
Dividing her attention between the road and her phone, Katie dialed Duncan again.
It went to voicemail.
He’s fine. Duncan’s got to be fine.
There are dead spots on the lake where phones don’t work.
He’s fishing with his boys.
Lyon is probably hiding in a tree like some rabid raccoon, spying on him.
She’s not a real threat.
She’s just some crazy, jealous psychopath who is addicted to drama and facial piercings.
Katie’s phone buzzed again.
U WON’T GET HERE IN TIME.
It was followed by an audio message. Katie stared at it, not wanting to hit play, knowing that she had to.
I need to listen to it. Save it as evidence. If it’s Lyon threatening me, maybe I’ll actually get Captain Stoker to take this situation seriously.
Katie tapped her screen, expecting to hear Lyon’s voice.
Instead she heard her own.
“Duncan, it’s me. You have to call me back. Lyon is harassing me again, and I think she may be somewhere on Lake Niboowin, watching you.”
How did Lyon get a copy of the recording I’d left on the voicemail? Does she somehow have access to my phone? Or…
The answer hit Katie like a slap.
She got that recording the same way she got that picture of me and Duncan.
She isn’t hacking my phone.
Duncan has that pic, hanging next to his bed in his room at his parent’s house.
She’s there. Lyon isn’t just on the lake, watching Duncan.
That crazy bitch is there at the house.
LYON
SAME TIME…
Kelli Lyons set down her phone and undressed. Naked, she climbed onto Duncan’s bed and squatted.
She clutched Duncan’s pillow against her chest, sniffing it hard, remembering his scent from that car ride he gave her.
It seems so long ago now.
Why doesn’t he know we’re meant to be together?
Why is he dating that stupid whore, Katie, and not me?
Doesn’t he know I’m perfect for him?
Doesn’t he see how much I love him?
She removed the pillowcase, intending to keep it for her hope chest. Lyon had been collecting little things that Duncan had owned, or merely touched, as a placeholder until she had him.
After folding it up, she pissed on his blankets, moving her butt to get wider coverage, soaking his blankets and mattress and emptying her full bladder. When Lyon finished she climbed off the bed and put on her jeans, socks, and boots. Bare chested, she stared at herself in the oversized mirror on Duncan’s dresser.
Years ago she considered getting tattoos, but Mother would have never allowed it. She got away with the facial piercings because she was able to take them out when she was home. Mother lost her eyeglasses in the horde years ago, misplaced among all the thrift store crap and garbage she lived with, floor-to-ceiling. But she would have noticed full sleeve artwork, or a back tattoo.
So Lyon went another route to modify her body.
She lifted her arms, admiring the network of scars crisscrossing her torso. Seventy-seven X-marks, each several inches long, covering her breasts, stomach, shoulders, arms. She had more on her thighs and legs.
Everywhere she could reach on the body with a razor blade, Lyon marked with an X.
She fished a blade out of her front pocket and returned to Duncan’s bed. Raising her left arm and flexing her bicep, Lyon cut a deep X underneath her elbow.
Hello, X number seventy-eight.
X marks the spot.
She held her arm over Duncan’s bed, letting her blood drip down and mix with the piss.
It hurt. But it’s a good kind of hurt.
The kind of hurt I can control.
Lyon understood, from a young age, that life was pain. Mother, who was all kinds of crazy, hurt Lyon in hundreds of ways.
But Mother could never break her.
Because, from a young age, Lyon learned the secret.
Nothing in the world can hurt me more than I hurt myself.
At first, she restricted the cutting to her buttocks. Even as a kid, there was ample fat there so she could go deep without permanent injury. Also, it was hidden from everyone. But Lyon was reminded of her mastery over misery every time she sat down.
As she got older, and Mother’s eyesight got worse, Lyon began marking more of her skin canvas.
Pain can be beautiful, if you embrace it.
The blood eventually stopped, as it always did, and Lyon went to the bathroom and washed her arm. She put her Plasmatics T-shirt back on, then went to her phone to check her trackers.
All four of them pinged locations.
The one in Duncan’s car was stationary, the car parked out back next to his friends’ cars.
The one on Duncan’s boat was still on the lake.
The one in Duncan’s jacket was back at his apartment, still in his jacket.
The one she’d slipped into Katie’s purse, back when she’d first confronted her in the bathroom at Cooper’s, was heading east on I-94.
She’s moving fast. Maybe an hour away.
Lyon quickly sent her another text.
CALL THE COPS AND HE’S DEAD.
Which, of course, was a lie. She couldn’t ever kill Duncan. He was her soul mate.
And she couldn’t kill Katie, either.
A dead Katie would mean a mourned Katie. Lyon didn’t want Duncan mourning. She wanted Katie to dump him, so Lyon could be there for him on the rebound.
I want him to have a choice, and to choose me.
I’ll help him get over his heartbreak.
All I need to do is push Katie until she snaps.
Which shouldn’t take much longer.
Lyon wasn’t sure what would make that happen. Maybe Katie would get so scared she moved away. Maybe she would tell Duncan he wasn’t worth the trouble.
Maybe it’s as simple as getting Katie so freaked out she becomes a shitty girlfriend, and Duncan will be the one to dump her.
And if I can’t make him dislike her personality, I’ll make him dislike her looks.
Some scars are beautiful. But losing a nose? Ears? Lips?
If Katie were disfigured badly enough, Duncan would leave.
You can’t have a girlfriend who is too mutilated to kiss.
Lyon didn’t sweat the details.
I’m not in any rush. No one is missing Mother. I can keep cashing her government assistance checks with no one ever knowing that she’s dead and rotting under a pile of old magazines in the living room.
I can play the long game.
I can play it as long as it takes to drive Katie and Duncan apart.
Drive them apart, and drive him into my arms.
Maybe that’s crazy.
Maybe I’m crazy.
But love is crazy, isn’t it?
She walked outside, feeling the sun on her face, and went onto the pier. Her cell phone’s zoom lens was ridiculously good, and she pointed it at Duncan’s pontoon and took a look at what was happening.
Still in the weeds, tougher to see what’s going on.
Duncan and his two friends were jumping around.
Dancing, maybe?
He’s too adorable.
She snapped a pic.
Lyon didn’t hear any music; they were too far away.
I wonder what they’re listening to. What kind of music would make them dance like that?
It intrigued her.
Her plan had been to hang around on the property, take some of Duncan’s things, leave him a present, spy on the boys from a distance and take a few pictures, and scare Katie.
But seeing the canoe tied to the dock gave Lyon an idea.
Lyon liked making spontaneous decisions. They usually led to interesting places and situations. Too many human beings were sheep, following schedules and routines, never living in the spur of the moment. Risk averse and boring.
She went to Mother’s car, parked in the woods near the property line, placed Ducan’s pillowcase in the passenger seat, and took the 9 mm Glock from the glove compartment, tucking it into the back of her jeans.
Then she got in the canoe, detached the mooring lines, and began to paddle away from the pontoon, deciding to make a big loop and come up on it from a side angle.
I won’t get too close. Just close enough to hear the music, and get some more pictures.
I’ll be careful.
This is still the long game.
I’ll be back with plenty of time for Katie’s arrival…
DUNCAN
SAME TIME…
The panic came so fast and hard that it completely took over, making Duncan a slave to his reactions. He could no longer think. He could no longer control his movements. When the flies attacked, thousands of them swarming, all he could do was hop around like a monkey, flailing his arms, terrified of getting stung.
He smacked them off his skin as fast as he could, and though they went for his bare arms and legs they seemed most interested in attacking his face.
Especially his eyes.
“They’re going for the eyes!” Stu yelled. “Close your eyes!”
But that made a horrible situation even more horrible. Even though Duncan couldn’t form any rational thoughts, his reptile brain knew at a base, primitive level that if his eyes were covered, he couldn’t see. And if he couldn’t see, he couldn’t swat the flies as effectively.
“My mouth!” Chuck wailed. “In my mouth!”
Duncan smashed his palm against his face as a fly climbed up his nostril, and through squinty eyes he caught a quick glimpse of Chuck leaping off the boat, hitting the water with a splash.
Slapping at the flies tangled in his hair, Duncan noticed Stu frantically spraying the aerosol can of bug repellent at the bugs themselves, which wouldn’t do a damn thing because it was meant to be sprayed on the skin.
But the sight of it made an idea pop into his brain, an idea as old as mankind.
All animals fear fire.
He tackled Stu, who fought him as the two fell to the floor of the pontoon. Stu was in full attack mode, hysterical and treating Duncan as a threat, and Duncan took the punches and kicks and focused on taking the bug spray away from his friend, and then screaming loud as he could, “LIGHTER! LIGHTER! LIGHTER!”
He managed three times before flies filled his mouth, which Duncan responded to by chewing them before they could sting and spitting them out as fast as he could, and as he got to his knees he saw the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed…
