Dark Corners READY FOR PRC (27 page)

I looked around for Danny, finding him in the family room. We hadn’t gotten around to setting it up yet, but we planned to decorate with the things from our old apartment. It was a cozy space, with a fireplace that would be nice in the winter and big windows that looked out on the large ancient trees to the side of the house. It would be perfect for writing.

Danny was stripping the floors. He turned off the sander when I walked in. I wasn't sure if it was so I could talk to him or because I wasn’t wearing protective glasses, but it didn't really matter.

“I'm sorry. I overreacted to, well, I guess nothing. I had no reason to jump down your throat.”

Danny didn't say anything or even look at me, but he nodded.

“Where's the number? I'll call today.”

Now he did look up, his eyes still seething. “I threw it away.”

“Why?

He sighed. I could tell he no longer had patience for me this morning, and I honestly didn't want my husband to feel like he had to deal with his wife constantly.

“Never mind.” I held my hands up in a passive gesture. “I’ll get it.”

I walked to the hall and picked up the trashcan, but there was nothing in it. I looked on the table with the phone and message pad, but it wasn't there either, or in the kitchen trash. I thought about going back and asking exactly where he threw it away, but it was better to let this one go. I called Susan at the store and Doug answered. He said she hadn't come into the store yet, which was strange. Why would she call Danny about an order if she wasn't even at the store? I called Susan at home.

“Hello.” Her voice was lower and raspier than normal.

“Hey, it’s Ella.”

There was a pause, then she greeted me in an overly cheerful voice that sounded forced. “Hi! What's going on?”“I misplaced that number you gave to Danny this morning. Could I get it from you again?”

“Oh okay. Which number did you need?”

“Dr. Livingston’s. Did you give him more than one number?”

“Right, sorry. I swear if my head wasn’t screwed on I’d lose it. No, I just gave him Dr. Livingston's number. You'll like him. He's great.”

I gave a friendly chuckle, but my mind was streaming with questions. Why didn’t she know that? How many numbers could she have possibly given him that morning? Why did she pause when I said who it was? Were they talking about me? What did Danny say? I tried to repress the paranoid thoughts swimming in my mind by reminding myself that this is why I needed to go see Dr Livingston. I had to stop. I had to stop.

The sound of the bedroom door opening snapped me back to attention. I peeked out from the closet and saw Gabriel standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“You've been so quiet up here, I thought maybe you left.”

“Sorry, just thinking,” I muttered, starting to sit up when something caught my eye underneath the bed. I went to over to the bed, knelt down, and pulled a sock out from under the bed. It lay across my hand like a pink nightmare. I couldn’t wrench my eyes from it. Gabriel sat down next to me.

“It’s a sock,” he said after a long silence.

“Yes,” I said almost inaudibly.

“Yours?”

“No.”

“It’s not Danny’s—is it?’

“No, pink argyle was never his style.” My words were joking, but I was far from finding humor in any of this.

Gabriel was quiet again. He too stared at the sock. We sat like that for what seemed an eternity. Finally he took the sock from my hand, then stood up, pulling me with him. “Let’s go.”

He led me out of the bedroom and back downstairs. I noticed the sun had set at some point while I was in the closet.

“How long was I up there?”

“A long time. I called up and told you I was going to the police station. I just got back.” I nodded only half listening, my mind drifting back to the sock. "They found something on the shirt."

“What?”

“A hair?”

“Whose hair?’

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, watching me as if preparing for me to fall apart at any moment. “It was a long blonde hair.”

I nodded, my eyes welling up. Gabriel reached up and brushed a piece of my dark almost black hair from my face.

“Let me check the doors and windows, then we can go.” He sat the sock down on the table next to me.

"Where are we going?"

“You don't want to stay here?" I shook my head "Then you're coming with me, no need to argue.” He left before I could say anything, and that was fine, I had nothing to say.

I waited in the hall. It suddenly seemed as if everything I thought I knew and had faith in was a lie. Nothing was real anymore. I heard Gabriel upstairs checking the windows. Was he real? I could trust him, couldn't I? But I thought I could trust Danny. . . Through the self-pity and sadness, it occurred to me that if I was not staying here tonight, I should at least take my own clothes. I went back upstairs to my room to grab a few things before we left.

“You don’t have to check these. I'll get them,” Gabriel’s voice came from behind me on the stairs.

I froze with my hand on the banister. “I thought you were already up here.”

“No, I was in the kitchen and ran down to the basement.”

“I heard footsteps.”

He took the stairs by twos, frowning, then walked me to my room and quickly looked around to make sure no one was in it.

“Stay in here. I'm going to look around.”

I thought about arguing, but I’d dealt with enough surprises for the day. I let him lock me away in the room while he looked around the house. I packed a few things. I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for him to come back.

It seemed to take him a long time, though it was probably only a few minutes before he knocked on the door, saying my name. I opened it, raising my eyebrows though I almost didn't care what was discovered and what wasn’t anymore.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Do you have the sock?”

“What?”

He closed his eyes “You left it downstairs?”

“I'm sorry I didn't even think. Maybe it's still there. ”

He shook his head, disappointment evident.

“How's that possible?’

“I don’t know.”

I picked up the picture of Danny and me off of my nightstand and chucked it against the wall on the opposite side of the room. I wanted to break everything, scream, shout, pull my hair—and I would have if Gabriel wasn’t there to witness it. Instead I grabbed my bag and stalked out to his car. We pulled out of the driveway, then I exploded. “I don’t understand. We've been here all day and looked all over that stupid house. Where's he hiding?”

“I wish I knew. We still haven't checked the attic, but don't get your hopes up. What happened while I was gone?”

“Nothing. I was remembering.”

When he saw I had no intentions on elaborating he asked, “What does that mean?”

“Ummm . . .” How could I explain this so it made sense? “Since his death I’ve had a tendency to . . .  lose myself in memories. The rest of the world sort of disappears. The memory takes over.”

“Are they like dreams?”

“Sort of, except I'm not sleeping and the events actually happened. It's more like when I'm writing. When I really get into a story, I lose myself in it for a while. What feels like twenty minutes can be three hours. Danny used to describe it as getting lost inside my own mind.” As soon as I said his name I regretted it. My eyes welled up again. Damn it. Damn him.

Gabriel didn't seem to notice or he was polite enough to pretend he didn't see it. “Basically, you didn’t see or hear anything while I was gone?”

“I didn’t even know you were gone.” I sighed, closing my eyes.

“Did you know he was cheating on you?”

The bluntness of his voice caught me off guard. I wasn't sure how to respond. My mind skimmed through all the times I had halfheartedly accused Danny of cheating on me. Did I know? Did I ignore what was right in front of me? “Did you know?” he pushed not letting me ignore his question.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is. You knew or you didn’t know.  That's all there is to it.” We pulled into the driveway of his house.

“I don’t know what I knew,” I said in barely a whisper before I got out of the car.

When we were inside, Gabriel’s tone softened a little. “Do you want anything? Something to drink . . . eat?”

I shook my head. “I’m tired. I just want to lie down.”

“Okay.”

I went upstairs and dressed for bed. Laying in the dark I fought the emotions from the day threatening to overwhelm me. I tried to pace my breathing and control my thoughts. How could he have done this to me? I asked the question so many times, I forgot what it was I was blaming Danny for—cheating? Dying? Dragging me from my home in Chicago to a haunted house in the sticks?

A gentle knock on the door drew me out of my game of seeing how many things I could resent Danny for.

“Come in,” I said, wiping a tear from my cheek with a sniffle.

Gabriel was there with a steaming mug in his hand. “Hi," he said softly. This picture elicited the smallest of smiles from me—quite an accomplishment given my state of mind.

“Hi,” I replied, matching his tone.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at
you
?” Another tear escaped, leaving a hot trail down my face.

“Sometimes I interrogate people. It’s a force of habit, comes with the job I’m afraid.”

“I'm not mad. You were right to ask. I wish I had an easy answer.”

“I brought you tea,” he said holding it out as an offering of peace.

“Thanks.”

I sat the tea on the nightstand and took his hand, not looking at his face. I need to feel something real, something strong.

“Tell me something,” I said quietly.

“What do you want to know?”

“Something terrible about you?”

“Why?”

“I need to know that you're real. You're a little too good to be true.”

“Scoot over.” He nudged me with the hand I wasn’t holding. I moved to the center of the bed and he lay down beside me. I turned to my side, facing away from him, but pulling his arm around me. I couldn’t look at him now; my heart was already in pieces.

“I tried to steal a car when I was a kid.”

“That’s it? That’s the best you can do?’

“Hey, you put me on the spot. That was an actual crime. I haven't always been a good person or a cop. Stealing that car changed my life. ”

 “Where were your parents?”

“My dad left before I was born. My mom did the best she could being a single parent, but I wasn't an easy child.”