by JC Gatlin
Josh pulled to the curb in his black pick-up truck. He opened the passenger door and Abbie climbed into the cab. She yawned a loud, mouth-stretching sigh that lasted much longer than she would’ve like. She rubbed her eyes.
“You’re exhausted. You need some sleep.” Josh hit the accelerator and rolled forward.
“I’m okay.” She yawned again.
As they drove toward the highway, Abbie leaned her forehead against the passenger window, her purse clasped loosely in one hand, the other grasping the unicorn pendant. She thought of Susan, so bloody and broken from the fall. It reminded her of Heather’s corpse, lying face-up in the living room of their old home.
“I don’t know if Susan will make it. She looked so bad.” Abbie remained focused on the passing lights outside the window. All her nervousness slipped back to grip her. “And I’m so worried about McKenzie.”
“They’ll find her,” he said. “There’s nothing more you can do and there’s certainly nothing you can do tonight.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He turned the steering wheel, rounding a corner. “Did you call your Dad?”
“I did.” Abbie still kept her cheek pressed against the cool glass. “But it went to voicemail, like his phone is turned off or something.”
“Where’s he coming from?”
“Pembroke Pines. It’s going to take him a few hours to get here.”
“And you told him you were heading home.”
“I left him a message.” She lifted her head and straightened in the seat. “I just can’t imagine why he’s not picking up.”
“Hey…” Josh turned his head. His eyes caught hers. “He’s fine. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, I know.” Abbie stared straight ahead at the street. “No, of course he’s fine. I was just thinking.”
“Well, stop it. No more thinking for tonight.” He sped up and merged into the traffic on the highway. “Think about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. The cab of his truck fell quiet and Abbie listened to the sound of the road. After a moment, his face lit up. “You wanna know what the mayonnaise said when the refrigerator door was left open?”
“You know what I’d like to hear?” Abbie leaned back in the seat. She turned to look directly at him. “Tell me how you got that scar on your stomach? What happened?”
Josh looked down then back at up at the road. His eyes stayed focused. “I got shot in the stomach when I was a kid.”
“How?”
“I surprised an intruder in our home in the middle of the night.” His voice turned stoic, very matter of fact, as if he were reading from a newspaper. “I was ten and came downstairs into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He was standing there. I surprised him. He shot me. Twice.”
Abbie was at a loss for words. She expected a hunting story. Or that he was playing with his father’s gun one afternoon when it suddenly went off. Or even running with scissors. Parents always tell you not to run with scissors. Still…
“One bullet in the stomach and another in the shoulder,” he continued. “I got a matching scar on my right shoulder too. It shattered the acromion and messed up my AC joint. Even today I can’t fully raise my arm.”
Abbie listened, but felt a million miles away. Her thoughts lingered on the man in her home, reaching for her in the attic. Bald head. Scruffy chin. Tattoo on his arm. She looked over at Josh. “What’d he look like?”
“The intruder?” He glanced at her then back at the road. He took the exit off the highway and stopped at a traffic light. “You know I barely even remember it. His name was Twayne Axel, but he went by The Ax. He’d escaped from prison and was gunn’n for my dad.”
“Scars from childhood.” Abbie repeated. Her face closed, as if guarding a secret.
“Yeah.” His voice trailed off. When the light turned green, he headed down the deserted street. “Scars from childhood. That’s why I’m not on the police force with my dad and work’n as a campus security guard. ‘Cause of my shoulder injury.”
“When I was six.”Abbie cleared her throat. It became difficult to get the words out. “My big sister and I were woken in the middle of the night by an intruder in our home too. He’d broken in and was looking for something. Pulled the drawers out of desks and pictures off the wall.”
He turned to her. “I’d heard a little about that, but I didn’t know the details.”
“The man took a box cutter and slashed my sister’s throat.”
“I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Josh pulled up to her apartment building. He stopped at the curb. Abbie looked up at the windows, listening.
“I don’t think I can go in there,” she said. “I just keep thinking about Susan and McKenzie.”
“Do you have somewhere else you can go?” He watched her.
“Not till Clinton Reed gets here.”
“Why do you call him that—Clinton Reed?” He turned off the engine and placed his forearms on the top edge of the steering wheel. “He’s your dad, right?”
“Yes.” She hesitated, measuring him a moment. “He’s my father.”
But he’d been “Clinton Reed” for as long as she could remember. It’s what the two policemen had called him when they knocked on their door. Knocked on that old house of bad memories.
How long ago was that? It was, perhaps, her oldest memory. She was just three and a half years old.
Little Abbie opened the door. It was about time for the school bus to drop Heather and the big kids off at the corner. Instead, two policemen stood on the front porch. Her father came up behind her.
“Yes?” he asked, holding the door open wider.
“Are you Clinton Reed?” one of them asked.
Abbie remembered absolutely every single detail about that moment. The mid-afternoon sun. The oscillating fan blowing in the living room. The rippling of the window curtains. The chipped paint on door. The way the police officer said, “Clinton Reed.”
Abbie looked up at her father. She’d never connected that name with him. And it was at that moment he changed. He was no longer Daddy. He was someone else… something else. She saw it in his eyes when he looked down at her and said, “Go to your room.”
Abbie walked to the staircase, made her way up a few steps. Listened to Clinton Reed talk to the policemen.
“I’m sorry but we have some bad news, Mr. Reed. We found your wife’s car.”
At the time, she didn’t understand what they were talking about. Or even that they were referring to her mother. She made that connection much later. Then, at that time, she just focused on the policemen calling her father, “Clinton Reed.”
She’d never considered him having another name besides “Daddy.” But he did. And like her name was “Abbie Reed,” his name was “Clinton Reed.”
She called him that ever since, and he never corrected her. When they moved in with her grandparents—after that night, after Heather—her grandmother scolded her for not calling him Daddy. But, he stepped in and said that Abbie could call him whatever she wanted.
She hadn’t thought about the policemen visiting, or that warm spring day, in a long time.
Josh pulled his keys from the ignition. Abbie opened the car door, then froze. Josh looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
She pointed to her third floor apartment. “A light just came on.”
Josh leaned forward toward the windshield and cocked his head. Abbie pointed to a lit window. A shadow crossed the glass. Abbie froze.
“There’s someone in my apartment.”
“Maybe it’s your Dad?”
“No. He would’ve called.”
“Susan’s family then?” Josh squinted his eyes, his head titled up as if trying to use x-ray vision to see into the apartment. Abbie shook her head.
“I think they’re all at the hospital.”
Springing back, Josh stretched an arm under his seat and pulled out a black boxy gun with yellow lettering. He held it
up, showing her a Civilian x26 taser. “Stay put.”
“Is that a gun?”
“It’s a taser,” he said. He opened his car door. “Wait here.”
He headed for the apartment building, then started up the steps to the third floor. Abbie got out of the truck. She followed behind him. They rounded the third landing and headed down the hallway to the front of the building. They stopped at Abbie’s door. It was slightly ajar, and the light shone through the crack in the door. Josh put a finger to his lips.
Chapter 28
Josh pushed open the apartment door. Clem strutted out, meowing and winding between Abbie’s legs. Abbie picked up the cat as she peeked into the living room. Everything looked quiet. They stepped into the dimly lit apartment. Josh in front. Abbie, cradling Clem in her arms, one step behind.
A lamp shined in the living room. The TV was showing an old episode of the Twilight Zone. Wrapping paper and uneaten cake still lay scattered on the coffee table. Clem meowed as Abbie turned toward the kitchen.
Dharma came around the corner, her black lace dress flowing. She carried a plate with a slice of cake on it. Josh jumped. Clem leaped out of Abbie’s arms and landed on the floor. Dharma screamed and dropped the plate. Chocolate cake spilled to the carpet.
“Dharma,” Abbie screamed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came over to check on you.” Dharma put a hand on her chest, as if feigning a heart attack. She took a couple of breaths, then leaned down to pick up pieces of crumbling cake in the carpet. She straightened, placing the soiled cake on the plate, and licked her fingers. “Your door was unlocked. Wide open in fact.”
“We left the door open?” Abbie looked back at it, then over at Clem. She was glad the cat didn’t run out. She stared at Dharma. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone. Not after everything that happened.” Dharma finished licking her fingers then waved her hand as if she were drying her nails.
Abbie rushed to her and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Just a few hours ago, Dharma was a nameless classmate in Professor Cunningham’s class. Now she was a familiar face. One Abbie was thankful to see.
Josh brushed past them, checking the apartment. He walked into Susan’s bedroom. Abbie ignored him.
“I’m just in shock.” She sat down on the sofa.
“Me too.” Dharma sat beside her. She placed the plate of chocolate cake crumbs on the coffee table. “I didn’t know Susan very well, but she seemed nice.”
“I hope she pulls through.” Abbie watched Josh walk out of Susan’s bedroom then disappear into her bedroom. She looked back at Dharma. “She was still in surgery when I left the hospital.”
“She’ll make it.” Dharma covered Abbie’s hands with her own. “She’s a strong woman.”
Josh came out of Abbie’s bedroom. He moved to the side chair and sat on the arm, shaking his head.
“It’s all clear,” he said. Clem crossed the rug in front of Josh, tail swaying.
Abbie looked down at her chipped cell phone. She typed a message then waited for an answer.
“What are you doing?” Josh leaned closer to her.
“I’m texting Charlie Hicks.”
He took her phone and set it on the coffee table. “I told you to leave this alone. I’m turning it off. ”
“But I have to do something.”
“There’s nothing else you can do tonight but get some sleep.”
“Who’s Charlie Hicks?” Dharma asked.
“He’s the man that’s been following me. He was on top the roof at that old cigar factory.” Abbie watched as Clem laid down beneath the coffee table, licked a paw, pawed his face. Abbie looked back at Dharma. “He helped me up and said he was protecting me.”
“Protecting you?” Dharma asked. “I don’t get it.”
Josh stood and reached toward Abbie. “I get it. He rescued you when you were a child. That’s a powerful influence. But I don’t think you’re seeing this for what it is.”
Abbie moved his hand away. “And what exactly is it?”
“I don’t exactly know. But whatever it is, he’s not protecting you.”
“Charlie Hicks. Charlie Hicks. Charlie Hicks.” Dharma lay down on the sofa, using the armrest as a pillow. She got out her cell phone.
“Who are you calling?” Abbie watched her.
“I’m Googling Charlie Hicks.” Dharma was already typing. A moment later, she was reading her search results. “He was discharged from the Tampa Police Department and he has a record,” she said, without lifting her gaze from the screen.
“What else?” Abbie slid across the sofa next to her as Josh crowded around.
Dharma typed furiously for about twenty seconds, then read some more. “Looks like he was acquitted for the murder of a teenager,” Dharma said, sitting up and giving Abbie and Josh more room. “He was stalking this girl. Her body was found in Hick’s lake house. Looks like her throat was cut with a razor blade and Officer Charlie Hicks was charged with the murder. Looks like he was acquitted though. He still lost his position on the police force.”
Josh stood. “This guy is doing the same thing again. He’s stalking you.”
“But he said he was trying to protect me.”
“Protect you from what?” Dharma asked. “If you ask me, he’s a repeat offender.”
“He’s not protecting you, Abbie. He wants something.” Josh took Dharma’s phone and scanned the article. “I’ve seen this before. This guy might be hearing little voices in his head, but he’s got a master plan, and he’s not going to stop until he sees it through.”
Abbie watched Josh as her breath seemed to solidify in her throat. The ferocity of his passion frightened her.
“Stop it, Josh,” Dharma said. “You’re scaring her.”
“No, I’m okay,” Abbie said.
“You should be scared.” Josh moved to sit on the arm of the sofa. “This man is organized. He’s driven by something, probably something from his past. He orchestrated this whole night and he has something planned for his big finale. He has a point to make.”
“Stop it, Josh!” Dharma got up from the sofa. “That’s enough.”
Josh looked at Abbie. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. You can get some sleep till your dad gets here.”
Abbie looked at her watch. It was after three AM. “I can’t sleep. I’m too wired.”
“I’ll stay with you too.” Dharma stretched out on the sofa. Josh plopped down on the adjacent chair.
“We’ll be out here, catching some shut eye while you go to bed,” he said, putting his arms behind his head. Abbie smiled at him.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“You’re not asking.” He let out a big yawn and stretched his arms. “Besides, I’m too tired to drive home anyway.”
Abbie thanked them both, then went into her room and grabbed the pillows off her bed. She brought them to Josh and Dharma. Josh locked the door and put the chain link clip in the door frame.
“I really appreciate this,” Abbie said. They nodded. She picked Clem up off the floor and returned to her bedroom. Shutting the door, she threw Clem on the bed. Abbie walked to the widow and gazed out at the night.
Charlie Hicks was out there.
Somewhere.
Watching.
* * * *
Some sixth sense brought Abbie fully awake. She glanced at the clock. It was four AM, barely an hour since she laid down. Still something woke her. She climbed out of bed, disturbing Clem. He stretched, scratched at the comforter a couple of times, repositioned himself then curled up in a ball and went back to sleep. Abbie cracked open the bedroom door.
She stepped into the living room. Dharma was passed out on the sofa, like Susan had been the other night. Josh was nowhere in sight. She looked toward the bathroom. The door was open, light off. There was a note taped to the front door. Abbie walked to it and read it.
“Talking to the Landl
ord. Be right back. –Josh”
At four AM? Abbie thought. She looked around the room and found her phone on the coffee table. She turned it on. The shattered screen lit up. More text messages came through. She ignored them, then noticed a new voicemail. She looked at the number and saw it was from Clinton Reed. She clicked the icon to listen to the voice message.
“Hi Abigail.” Her father’s voice crackled through the speaker. Abbie looked at Dharma. Dharma stirred and turned over on her side, but didn’t wake. Abbie turned back to her phone and turned down the volume. “I just got a message from your therapist. He said that you’re not doing well and wants me to pick you up at our old house. What are you doing there, Abbie? Call me as soon as you get this. I’m worried about you.”
The voicemail ended.
Abbie thumbed the icon closed the best she could on the cracked screen, then brought up the text messages.
Abbie froze. There were more than thirty identical messages. All were from Charlie Hicks’ phone number. Looking around the room, she saw Dharma’s purse and car keys on the coffee table. Dharma was sound asleep. Abbie stepped over to the table and picked up the keys.
She slipped out the front door, careful not to wake Dharma.
Chapter 29
Holding Dharma’s keys, Abbie ran into the parking lot. She pressed the unlock button on the fob and searched the parked cars. Lights flashed on a little red Toyota Prius, responding to the unlock signal. Abbie rushed to it.
Slipping in the car, she inserted the keys in the ignition and started to back out. She almost hit a car behind her. Abbie looked in the rearview mirror. The car was positioned to block her. Its headlights weren’t on, but the engine was running. A silhouette shifted in the driver’s seat behind the wheel.
The car door opened. A man in a tan trench coat and brown hat stepped onto the pavement.
Charlie Hicks.
He walked toward Abbie’s side of the Prius and tapped on the glass. Abbie scrambled over the center console to the passenger seat. She opened the car door, fell to the curb.
“Don’t come any closer or I will call the police.” She looked up as he rounded the front of the Prius. He raised his hands.