Roadkill

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  She opened the door and was met with a beautiful bouquet of roses in a rainbow of colors. Max poked his head out from behind them. “Anna. It’s so good to see you. I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

  She invited him in, and he followed her to the kitchen. She located a vase under the sink, filled it with water, and arranged the roses inside. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  “I’d like to do more, but I’m not sure what you need right now. Tell me what I can do for you, and I’ll do it.”

  She looked up at him, and the tears started again. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, please. I’m the one who’s sorry. I thought I could help, and it seems I’m making things worse by being here.”

  “Oh, no. It was nice of you to stop by. I’m glad you came.”

  He pulled her into an embrace. As her tears flowed, he leaned over, showering her neck with tender kisses. It was comforting, but made her nervous at the same time. She let go and took a step back. He reached out, taking her hand in his.

  “I’m so very sorry about Jonas,” he said. “Anything you need. Anytime. Just ask. I’m here for you.”

  “I still can’t believe what’s happened.”

  “It was a shock to us all. I considered Jonas to be a good friend.”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “I’m still not sure what’s real and what isn’t. The police are looking into all kinds of things. They told me Jonas had a secret condo I didn’t know about. A woman was staying there. She’s missing. And in the note Jonas left, he said he’d buried Nora, but they found something of Nora’s in the condo, and police think she might still be alive. It’s so much to process.”

  Max eyed her curiously. “I spoke to the police earlier, and they made no comment about a discovery at the condo. What did they find?”

  “A stuffed animal.”

  “How can they be sure it’s Nora’s?”

  She told him about the birthday message Raine had recorded.

  He leaned against the kitchen counter, crossed his arms. “Interesting. If it is hers, that changes things, doesn’t it? Maybe Jonas wasn’t telling the truth after all. Maybe she is out there somewhere.”

  “I hope so. Seth has been through enough.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Max asked.

  “I’m going to stay with a friend for a few days. I ... I can’t be here right now. Police have been coming in and out, and it’s just too hard.”

  “I understand. I have a lot of rooms at my house and no one to fill them. Why don’t you stay with me instead? You’re welcome as long as you like.”

  She headed for the door. “I appreciate it, Max. I really do. But I’ll be just fine at my friend’s house for now.”

  Max stepped outside with Anna. She introduced Faunia to Max. “Thank you again for the flowers.”

  “Can I call tomorrow and check on you?”

  She nodded.

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a manila envelope, and handed it to her.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It’s to help with the funeral arrangements.”

  She held it out to him. “Oh, no. I can’t take this.”

  He pushed it back toward her. “The time we’ve spent together in the past, even though it wasn’t often, I want you to know how much it meant to me. It makes me feel better to know you’re taken care of, and Jonas would have wanted me to look after you. Once everything settles down, let’s meet for lunch or dinner. There are a few things I’d like to talk to you about ... when the time is right.”

  He got inside his car and backed out of the driveway, leaving her standing there on the porch, pondering the odd statement he’d just made.

  CHAPTER 41

  At two in the morning, Seth stumbled out of the bar. He looked left then right and then headed up the street, searching for his car. Several minutes later, he still hadn’t found it, which was confusing. He was sure he’d left it on the corner of Sahara and Rio Grande. His stomach growled, and he thought back to the last time he’d eaten. It had been a pot-roast dinner Juliette made the night she left. His body craved food, but at this hour, he didn’t want it.

  Legs heavy like bricks, he sat on the sidewalk, thinking. He remembered parking on the street in the exact spot where he was now sitting. So where was his car? Had he been wrong about where he’d left it? It was possible. The entire day was a drunken, blurry haze.

  He removed his phone from his pocket and squinted, trying to find Raine’s number in his contact list. He saw a name starting with the letter R and pressed it. Nothing happened. He brought the phone closer to his face and pressed the letter again. This time it rang for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he heard her say, “Seth?”

  “Hey, Raine.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Late, or early, depending on how you look at it.”

  “I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you all right?”

  “Think so. Can you come get me?”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m at the bar. I mean I was at the bar. I don’t know where my car is. I was going to sleep in it for a while until I sobered up. Problem is, I can’t find it.”

  “I’ll leave right now. Which bar are you at?”

  He stood back up again and looked for the bar he’d walked out of moments before. “Umm, let me think. It’s the one with the red lights around the sign.” What was the name? He couldn’t remember. Legs shaky and weak, he leaned against a pole and glanced down the street. The lights were gone. He put the phone back to his ear. “I need to find the sign. I’ll call you back.”

  “No, Seth. Wait. Don’t hang up.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll call you back. ‘Kay?”

  He ended the call and started walking. A few minutes later, he still hadn’t found the bar. His head throbbed, and the street was spinning. A dark car pulled up to the curb beside him. A man about his same age lowered the passenger window and smiled. “Hey there. How’s it going?”

  Seth glanced around, thinking the guy was talking to someone else. He wasn’t. He was talking to him. Seth bent down, staring at the guy inside the car. “Hey, do you know the name of the bar on this street—the one with the red lights around the sign?”

  “Sure, it’s Crin Ale.”

  “Oh yeah. And which direction is it?”

  The man pointed.

  “Man, I don’t know how I got so turned around. Thanks for your help.” He began walking, and the car kept pace with him.

  “You need a ride, right?”

  Seth shook his head. “I have someone coming for me. Well, she will be. Have to give her the name of the place I’m at first.”

  “Are you Seth?”

  Seth had never seen the guy before in his life, so how did he know his name?

  “Do we know each other?”

  Seth kept walking as they spoke, and the car continued to follow alongside him, which annoyed Seth. He just wanted to get home.

  “I was sent to pick you up,” the man said. “I’m an Uber driver. See?”

  Seth stopped.

  The man leaned his arm out of the window, flashing an ID card in front of Seth’s face. It looked like a driver’s license, but he wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure. He was too drunk to tell. “I didn’t call you. I mean, I don’t think I did.”

  “One of your friends scheduled the ride.” The man reached for his phone, using a finger to scroll down. “I have the name of the person who requested it right here. Hold on a minute.”

  “I didn’t tell her which bar I was at, though. So how do you know you have the right—”

  “Found it. The woman’s name is Raine. Sound right?”

  “How did she know where—”

  “Did you have a lot to drink tonight?”

  Seth nodded. “Been at it eight hours at least. And just so you know, I don’t do this ... dr
ink, I mean. Today’s different.”

  “You must have told her the name of the place and forgot you did it. You live off MacDonald and Eddy, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  The man got out of the car, walked around, and opened the front passenger door. “Then you’re the one I’m supposed to pick up. Go on, get in.”

  “Don’t you want me to sit in back?”

  “Up front’s fine.”

  Seth thought about it for a minute and came to the conclusion Raine must have sent him. The guy knew her name and his address, and an Uber would have made it there a lot faster than she would have. He dipped his body inside the car and sat down. The seat was nice, leather, and adjusted to his body like he was made for it.

  The man walked back around to the driver’s side, buckled himself in, and told Seth to do the same. The car pulled onto the street.

  “I like this seat,” Seth said. “It’s comfortable.”

  “It gives a massage too, if you’re interested.”

  “You serious?”

  The man pressed a few things on a touchscreen monitor in the center of the dash, and the seat started massaging his back.

  “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  The man nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I bought this car.”

  Seth leaned back and put the window partway down. “Sorry, I need air. I’m feeling a little nauseated, and I don’t want to throw up in your car.”

  “No problem. I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I think I saw you on the news today.”

  Seth’s eyes widened. “Really? No, I don’t think so. It couldn’t have been me.”

  “Not you personally. They showed a picture of your family.”

  “What picture?”

  “It looked like a family photo of you, your wife, and your daughter.”

  “Ohhh. I’m not surprised. A few reporters stopped by earlier, tried to get me to talk about everything. It’s inconsiderate, you know? I’m grieving. They don’t care about me, or my wife, or our daughter. All they’re after is a damned story.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened. It must be hard.”

  “After the reporters showed up, I decided not to watch the news right now. I didn’t know they had my picture. Maybe Raine gave it to them. What else did they say?”

  The man looked up, thinking. “Let’s see. I don’t recall everything, but I do remember them saying police suspect your neighbor was responsible for the death of your wife and daughter. Do you really think it was an accident?”

  “Who knows? They’d been having an affair, and I didn’t even know about it. My best friend and my wife. Can you believe it? Who does that?”

  “The guy was your best friend? Harsh.”

  Seth ran a hand through his hair. It felt greasy and wet. “Yeah. The four of us did things together. And you know something? My wife never acted like she had feelings for him. And every time we went out, he was all over his wife. My wife never acted jealous. Not one single time. She was happy for them. She used to say they seemed like the perfect couple. I thought so too.”

  “Had she ever cheated on you before?”

  “Once. Maybe. I’m not sure. I never asked her. I always thought she was being honest with me.”

  “But there was a time you thought she’d stepped out on you?”

  Bits and pieces raced through Seth’s mind, fragments of memories. He was intoxicated. Perhaps too intoxicated to remember. “We were in bed one night. This was about a year ago or so. She was sleeping. She talked in her sleep sometimes.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said the name Maxwell.”

  “Maxwell? No last name?”

  “Nope. Although Maxwell goes both ways. It could be a first or a last name.”

  “True. Did she say anything else?”

  Seth reached his hand out of the car window, slapping it against the night air. “Yeah. A few minutes later she said, ‘Maxwell, I love you.’”

  “Huh. Strange.”

  “Not as strange as my neighbor admitting he’d been sleeping with my wife for three years.”

  “Do you know any Maxwells?”

  “Nope.” The streets whirred around Seth, colors blending together like smeared paint. “Hey, where are we?”

  “According to my GPS, we’re about ten minutes from your house.”

  “Sorry for talking your ear off, man.”

  “Don’t be. You’ve been through hell. The least I can do is let you get it out of your system.”

  Seth laughed. “I have a sister-in-law for that.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Stubborn, but smart. Smartest person I know. She’s not sure my neighbor is responsible for what happened, not even after reading the note he left. There’s a cop she’s been talking to; he’s not one-hundred-percent convinced, either.”

  “Really? The news made it sound like the police were wrapping everything up.”

  “Sorry, the alcohol’s gone to my head. The guy she’s been talking to—he’s not a regular cop. He’s a detective. He was there when they found my wife. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll mention this Maxwell guy to Raine. Maybe she knows who he is. Can’t hurt, right?”

  “Nope.” The man reached a hand into the side panel of his door, pulled out a bottle of water, and offered it to Seth. “You should probably hydrate after the drinking binge you’ve been on all day. Not that I blame you. I’m sure I’d do the same if it were me.”

  Seth shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  The man handed him the water, anyway. “Even if you don’t feel like it, you should probably drink it. Maybe it will keep you from getting sick. And it’s a lot better than bottled water. It has electrolytes.”

  Seth wrenched the cap off the bottle and took a few sips, hoping he could hold it down. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Hey, what’s your name?”

  The man looked over and grinned. “It’s Adam.”

  CHAPTER 42

  I waited for a return call from Seth. It never came, and there was no point going out looking for him unless I could isolate his location. There were hundreds of bars in Las Vegas. It was impossible to know where to look. All I had to go on was the single comment he’d made about red lights around a sign, and in a city known for its glow, he could have been talking about any number of places.

  I called Ford, expecting to wake him, shocked when his voice sounded hoarse, like he’d been up all night. I was even more shocked when he knocked on the front door less than five minutes later. “There was no way you could have ... how did you get here so fast?”

  He pointed to his car parked across the street.

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “I drove over after I spoke to you on the phone.”

  “That was hours ago. Why?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right, and leaving you here alone doesn’t sit well with me. I thought I’d stay until your brother-in-law returned, but obviously he hasn’t.” He poked his head inside. “Whitaker said Mrs. Parr is staying with a friend.”

  “For now. She doesn’t want to be alone in the house.”

  “Not a bad idea, considering all she’s been through today.” His cell phone rang. He answered it, listened to the person talking on the other end, and then hung up. “I had a trace done to isolate the area your brother-in-law’s call came in from. Shall we check it out, see if we can find him?”

  I nodded. “Let me grab a sweater.”

  For the first few miles, we drove in silence. Then he turned toward me and said, “The day we met, you said you weren’t married and you don’t date. Why not?”

  “You’re asking me that now?”

  “It’s a twenty-minute drive. I thought it would be nice to talk about something light for a change. Sorry. I wouldn’t have asked if I thought it would bother you.”

  “It doesn’t. Are you married?”

  “Widowed.”

  Widowed. The comment he’
d made to me in the kitchen earlier now made sense.

  “Why don’t you date?”

  “How do you know I don’t?”

  I leaned back in the seat. “You might date, but my guess is you aren’t in a relationship.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Just a guess.”

  “Why don’t you date?”

  I stared out the window and thought about how much I was willing to say. “I haven’t always been opposed to having a relationship. There was a time in my life when I put serious effort into trying to find someone, and then that time passed, and I became a realist.”

  “Can I ask what happened?”

  What happened wasn’t a simple story to tell, but it was a common one. Girl fell for guy. Guy used girl for her money. When the well ran dry, and the girl couldn’t make enough to sustain his spending habits, the girl came home from work one night and the guy was gone. No note. No explanation. And the girl was devastated, the battle wound real. The girl hadn’t looked at men the same way ever since.

  Was I jaded?

  Yes. Obviously.

  The time to try again was long overdue. I was well aware of it. I’d just spent so many years of my life shut off to the idea of inviting someone in again that I no longer knew how to do it. And when I listened to my single friends moan about the dating pool nowadays, I realized pickings were slim, even in the deep end.

  I considered how best to answer his question. “I used to have a bad habit of falling for the wrong guy. We’d date for a while, the train would derail, we’d break up, and then I’d date someone new, thinking he was different from the last one. I learned different packaging doesn’t mean different personality. And one time it became one time too many.”

  “So after the ‘one too many’ breakup, you just gave up on relationships all together?”

  “I don’t look at it like giving up. I know there are good guys out there. The truth is, I’m fine living alone.”