The shadows of summer, p.6
The Shadows of Summer, page 6
I reached into the brown package. Whatever was inside must not have been dangerous because no one made further attempts to stop me.
The box contained two large photographs and nothing else.
The first was a grainy color photo of me. My head, torso, and waist occupied most of the picture, but I could make out the HMG office in the background. The picture version of me was wearing a button up blouse, a blazer, grey slacks, and holding a purple lunch bag.
“This was taken Friday,” I muttered. “When I was leaving work.”
The picture’s poor resolution meant the person holding the camera must have been far away and had zoomed in to get a closeup image of me.
I shuffled to the second photograph. It was a picture of my mom, dad, Jessica, and Oakley in front of my parents’ house. Jessica and Oakley were walking towards the front door, pulling luggage behind them, while my mom and dad flanked them. Their backs were to the camera. The photo apparently had been taken last week, on the day Jessica and Oakley arrived in Georgia from Connecticut.
I set the pictures aside. “My God. What is going on?” I could hear the dread in my voice, which matched my racing pulse. I ran both of my shaking hands through my hair. “Do you think this is a legitimate threat?”
“We have to treat it like one,” Jacob said. “He got close enough to take pictures of you and your family. That’s concerning. And, clearly, he’s mentally unstable.”
Mentally unstable. The negative connotations associated with that term made me queasy, especially when the person attached to the term was threatening to physically harm me and members of my family.
“Maybe it’s just a sick joke,” Hollie chimed in.
“Who the hell jokes like this?” I responded.
“A sick bastard,” Lane said.
“Someone who gets a kick out of messing with people’s minds,” Hollie added.
I verbalized what I’m sure everyone in the room felt to be true: “I don’t think he’s joking. I could hear it in his voice. He really hates me. But why?” I was struggling to hold back tears.
“Is it possible that he’s an angry ex?” Lane said.
I looked at him quizzically. “Ex-boyfriend?”
Jacob glared at Lane with a mixture of curiosity and aversion. It was a question Jacob surely had been pondering.
“Yes,” Lane said. “Like someone you broke up with?”
“My first real boyfriend was Kroy Foster and we almost died together after my first year of college.” I pointed to the scar on my face to emphasize the point. “After we did our stints in the hospital and healed up, we went our separate ways. From there, I went through a period of severe depression and insecurity. During that time, I didn’t date anyone. Until Jacob. He became my second serious boyfriend and eventually my husband. So, I don’t exactly have a trail of broken hearts in my past.”
“No other ex-boyfriends, huh?” Lane said.
“No.”
“Can’t think of anyone else who might be upset with you?”
“I honestly can’t.”
“If we’re assuming this is a legit threat, there’s got to be someone.”
“I don’t think so, Lane. I barely deal with anyone other than coworkers, family, friends, and Jacob. I come across a lot of people in the field when I’m marketing, but those interactions usually don’t last more than five minutes.” My mind flashed to Zoey, the peculiar tattooed woman I’d met earlier in the day.
“Right,” Lane said, “but we all agree that this guy is acting like he has a personal vendetta. So there has to be someone who—”
Jacob slammed his glass down on the stone fireplace mantel. Liquor sloshed out of the glass and spilled on the stone. “Let it go, Lane. She said she doesn’t know anyone.”
“Sorry. Just trying to help.”
“You’re not helping. We already went through the list of possible suspects and there aren’t any. That’s because there’s not one person out there who has a motive for—”
“This is ridiculous,” Hollie said. “We need to call the police. I’m sorry, but that’s the only option in a situation like this.” Hollie and Lane were slaves to rules and protocol.
I replayed an excerpt of the voicemail in my mind: No police. If you or any of your friends even think about calling the law, your mom, dad, and sister are dead.
“No one is calling the police,” I said. “He threatened to hurt my parents and sister if anyone calls the cops.”
“How would he even know if you called the police?” Hollie said. “I don’t think civilians have the technology needed to monitor cell phone calls. He might just be making an empty threat.”
“If it is just an empty threat,” I said, “then the police wouldn’t be necessary in the first place. So why bother calling them? And if it’s not an empty threat, the lives of my family would be at risk if we get the police involved. That’s not a risk I want to take.”
Jacob got in front of me, our faces inches apart. “I don’t know, maybe Hollie’s right.”
I shook my head. “I know we probably should call the cops, but I’m scared. What if he isn’t bluffing?”
“I have to ask again,” Hollie said, “how would he even know if you called the cops?”
“Well, I’m sure he’d figure it out when he sees the police show up at our doorstep or sees us driving to the damn police station.”
Hollie said, “I’m sure you could handle everything over the phone with investigators—”
“I appreciate your input, Hollie, but I don’t want to test this guy! For now, no police!” I made eye contact with everyone in the room, one by one. “Promise me, right now, you won’t go behind my back and call the cops. Not until I say it’s okay to do so.”
Jacob and Lane nodded. Hollie simply muttered, “Okay. No police.”
“Going to the police might be a waste of time anyway,” Jacob said woefully. “We don’t even have a suspect name to give them. Plus, they typically don’t take threats as seriously as they should.”
“Very true,” Lane said. “Typically, someone has to get hurt before they’ll put any effort into an investigation.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I don’t think it’s worth it to provoke this psycho just to tell the police about a threat they probably won’t investigate anyway.”
Jacob finished off the last bit of liquor in his glass and scowled. “We won’t go to the police unless we have enough evidence to locate this asshole and put him in jail. He won’t be able to follow through on his threats if he’s in a cage, where he belongs.”
I looked at Jacob, filled with despair over the strange detour my life had abruptly taken. I was grateful to have him in my corner.
I was also grateful for Liincans. Unfortunately, the four I’d taken earlier were starting to wear off and I couldn’t imagine facing this predicament without mind-numbing opiates. The pill stash was in my pocket. I had already met my quota for the day, but I needed more. I had to get away from the group so I could eat two or three Liincans. Or ten.
Jacob paced the room. “What now? What should we do now?”
“All I know,” I said, “is that I need to call my parents and sister. Right now.”
Jacob stopped pacing. “What are you going to tell them?”
“Nothing. Yet. I don’t want to scare them and I don’t want them calling the cops. I just need to make sure they’re safe.”
I picked up the cordless phone and dialed my parents’ home number.
It rang once.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up the phone,” I chanted.
Rang twice.
“Come on, come on, come on.”
Rang three more times and the voicemail came on.
“Dammit! Pick up the phone!” Fear dug into me. My heart was on the verge of bursting.
Jacob came to my side. “Don’t panic. Try calling back.”
I pressed the redial button.
It rang . . . and rang . . . and rang . . . and the voicemail switched on.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my God, oh my God. Why aren’t they answering?”
A sharp pain shot through my chest. The faintness in my head was worsening.
Jacob wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay, Summer. It’s going to be okay. Try calling Jessica. I’m sure—”
The phone rang.
It took me one—maybe two—milliseconds to answer.
My father’s voice came through on the other end. “Hey, dear. What’s up?”
“Why didn’t y’all answer? I called twice!” I knew my voice was loaded with panic, but I couldn’t help it.
My father chuckled. “Relax, honey. I was outside doing yardwork. Your mom and sister are in the backyard on the deck, sipping lemonade and gossiping. Oakley’s over at Rachel’s house. Is there a problem?”
It took a mountain of willpower to resist telling my father—the human embodiment of a safety blanket—what was going on. “No. No problems. Just wanted to make sure we’re still good for the food festival this weekend.”
“Of course. As greedy as I am, you think I’d miss that? You and Jacob still meeting us here at ten?”
“Yep. Ten on the dot.”
“Great. I’m eating nothing but salads ‘til then. That’ll give my stomach something to look forward to for Saturday.”
I laughed despondently. “Sounds good. Alright, dad. I’ll let you get back to your yard work.”
“I thought you were stopping by after work today.”
“Um, yes. I still am. Jacob and I. We just have some things to take care of first.”
“Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Okay. Great. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Bye sweetie.”
I hung up the phone and released the lungful of air that I had been holding in. “Jesus Christ,” I said clasping my heart. “I can’t take this.”
With no fresh Liincans in my system, it was all becoming too much to handle. The vertigo I was feeling moments earlier had morphed into a headache, which was ripping through my skull like a tornado. A full-fledged migraine was coming if I didn’t pop some pills soon.
“I need some air,” I said. I rose from my seat, nearly lost balance, steadied myself.
“Summer,” Jacob said, “maybe you should sit down.”
I thought about the bag of magic pills in my pocket. I needed the temporary relief they provided. I couldn’t wait a second longer. “I’m fine, Jacob. I just need to use the restroom.”
I walked away from them.
Jacob jumped out of his seat and followed. “Wait, Summer.”
I sped up, heading towards the little half bathroom in the hallway off the kitchen. Footsteps clacked behind me. Everything was hazy and foggy.
I approached the restroom door, reached for the door knob, and my legs crumpled beneath me. I was falling. The floor rose up to meet my face and everything went black.
I dreamed. But I really couldn’t call it a dream because it was reality. Reality from twelve years ago.
Cutting through the backwoods of Coweta County, Kroy Foster and I were flying down Old Warren Road, on the way to Kroy’s sister’s house.
I sat in the passenger seat of Kroy’s beat-up Ford Escort and he’d just accused me of acting like an uppity bitch.
According to him, I’d changed after leaving for college.
“You barely call me anymore,” he said. “Too busy hanging out with those prissy college girls? Or maybe you’ve found a new guy. Some soft ass country club boy who wears a sweater around his waist? Is that it?”
I saw through his insults and accusations because I understood the subtext underlying everything he was saying. At the heart of it, he resented the fact that I’d left the old neighborhood behind. I’d left our old group of troubled, pot-smoking friends behind.
I’d left him behind.
Our paths were diverging and there was a vivid future ahead of me. I had a year of college behind me and, although my grades had fallen recently, I had a plan for getting back on track and things were looking up.
Kroy, on the other hand, had struggled to graduate high school and was barely crawling along in life. He loaded packages onto trucks for Boxes United at ten dollars an hour. It was honest work. But it was back breaking work and his position with the company was tenuous.
“I’m just sayin’, Kroy, there’s more to life than smoking weed in Gerrit’s toolshed. And what do you think’s gonna happen when Boxes United makes you pee in a cup? They’re gonna toss you out the door ass-first for having cloudy piss. Then what?”
Kroy didn’t answer. His eyes grew hot with anger. I didn’t let that deter me.
“Kroy, you’ve got to get it together!”
“Lord have mercy, you’re annoying.”
“I’m serious! You can’t continue down this path!”
“I get it, Summer. I get it. Can you please shut up now? Please? I’m literally begging you to shut the hell up.”
Ignoring him, I said, “Do you not understand the seriousness of the stupid choices you make?”
“You got nerve to talk. I’m no more of a screw up than you, missy. Just because you stumbled into college doesn’t mean your shit smells like scented candles.”
He laughed.
“This isn’t funny you moron. You need to start thinking about the bigger picture.”
He shot me a dirty look. I knew he wanted to wrap his fingers around my throat. He’d have to settle for squeezing the steering wheel. I’m sure it was a poor substitute.
We glared at one another defiantly, but I resisted the urge to carry the argument further. Instead, I let silence take hold.
I pulled my eyes away from him and looked at the road ahead.
We were milliseconds from colliding with an enormous deer.
“Kroy! Look—”
There was a booming, jolting wham as we smashed into the deer.
It rolled onto the hood and into the windshield, which burst into pieces, sending shards of glass into my face.
The animal got stuck in the frame of the windshield and road visibility was reduced to nothing.
Blindly, frantically, Kroy maneuvered the steering wheel. I felt the breaks being applied, but we were still going too fast.
We veered off the road and rocketed through the woods.
I glanced out the passenger side window. Nature whizzed by in blurs.
We slammed into an oak tree.
The bone crushing impact was like a giant’s fist through my chest. My body was thrown forward, through the windshield, and everything went black.
An instant later, I was in a dark hospital room, alone with the man dressed in black, who stared down at me with glowing red eyes.
He opened his mouth and there were jagged shards of bloody glass where his teeth should have been.
He stretched his jaws wider than humanly possible and I looked into the endless dark chasm that was his throat.
He brought his mouth down and sank his razor-sharp teeth into my face.
I awakened with a start, drenched in perspiration. Jacob, Hollie, and Lane stared down at me just like doctors and surgeons had looked over me on so many occasions following the car accident.
Jacob cradled me in his arms. “Don’t scare me like that. Thought I was going to have to call an ambulance.”
I tried to sit up and my head swirled like water going down a drain.
“Take it easy,” Jacob said. “How do you feel?”
“How long have I been out?”
“One or two minutes.”
“Feels like it was longer.” I ran my fingers across my forehead, checking for gashes. “No injuries?”
Jacob put a cold glass of water to my lips. I took a few tentative sips. “Don’t think so,” Jacob said. “Thankfully, I was right behind you. I grabbed you, broke your fall.”
I squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the cold hardwood beneath me. “I’m glad you were following me. The pressure must’ve been too much . . . guess I fainted.”
“We need to get you some food,” Hollie said, “and you need some rest. Let’s get you to the sofa.”
Jacob and Lane helped me to the couch in the living room and I sat upright instead of lying down. I took the glass of water from Jacob’s hands and sloshed it down greedily.
Jacob sat next to me while I stared blankly at nothing in particular, unsure of what to do next.
“Oh, crap.” Lane said abruptly, startling me out of my daze. “We have to pick up Colton and Miles.”
He was referring to their ten- and twelve-year-old sons.
“From camp?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah. Baseball camp.” Lane looked at his watch. “It’s four fifty-seven and it doesn’t end until five, but it takes thirty minutes to get there, sometimes longer with traffic. We really don’t want to leave you guys under these circumstances, but . . .”
“Yeah, I feel horrible,” Hollie said. “We want to be here to help in any way we can.”
“No, no, no,” Jacob said. “Don’t apologize. We just appreciate that you’ve been here for us thus far. We really do.”
While I was certain they genuinely felt guilty for leaving, I was equally certain they were relieved to have a legitimate excuse for getting away from us. I was marked for death and, by association, so was Jacob. That made us dangerous. That made it scary for Hollie and Lane, or anyone else, to be around us.
“We’ll come back later, of course” Hollie said ashamedly, as if they were committing some horrible sin by going on with their normal lives. “But we’ll stay in touch in the meantime.” She held up her cell phone. “Just call us if you need us.”
An overwhelming sense of gratitude for my friends gripped me. I stood and gave Lane a hug, then Hollie. While I held Hollie, I said, “Please don’t feel like you have to come back. I honestly don’t want you to put yourselves in any danger. You’ve got kids to think of.”
“But Summer—”
“I’m serious. Don’t put yourselves in harm’s way for us. We can’t ask you to do that. Right Jacob?”
