The Stairwell

by M. M. Silva

  One thing I couldn’t deny was the fact that it was about fifteen degrees today, well below the average low for this time of year. I had done some good yesterday, so I thought karma might help me out with the weather, but evidently karma was still paying me back for a lot of other shit. It was one thing to do the 5K, quite another to freeze my fanny off while doing it.

  Nonetheless, I reminded myself of today’s cause—and the role I’d played in Darrin’s death—and decided whining about the weather wasn’t the way to go. After coming to terms with the cold, I bundled up in a few light layers, a Patriots winter hat, and stuffed a few more clothes and some mittens in a backpack for later. I even remembered to throw a couple of protein bars in the bag, and okay, I threw in a Diet Coke as well. The weather would keep it cold, and I was thinking I might need a jolt of caffeine at the midway point. Or some oxygen. Maybe a stretcher. An ambulance wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, either.

  I was eating a bowl of cereal over the sink when Doob’s bedroom door opened. Right on schedule. Doob was rarely one second early or one second late for anything. He was the human form of the national atomic clock.

  When he came into the kitchen, I nearly choked. He was in some type of dark purple, nearly black, unitard. It looked like a wetsuit a person would wear when doing the Polar Plunge in Boston in the middle of the winter. It was a full-body get-up that left nothing—nothing—to the imagination. I shuddered.

  To be kind, I’ll say Doob’s not exactly a physical specimen. He’s far too skinny for the amount of food he eats, something that’s always been a mystery to me. And in this particular outfit? I didn’t know if there was a physical specimen alive who could pull this off, but it certainly wasn’t Doob.

  Doob beamed and spread out his arms in true ta-da fashion. “I’m wearing it, Meg. Not a thing you can do about it.” His smile doubled, daring me to try to talk him out of it.

  “You’re going to freeze your ass off and possibly get arrested for indecent exposure.”

  “You wish. Besides, you’re just jealous. You’ll haul along fifty pounds of clothing and probably keel over one minute into the walk. While I, on the other hand, will be light on my feet and feeling very warm the entire day.”

  “You’re not even walking,” I argued. “Why in the world would you wear that? Don’t the volunteers have to wear some type of designated sweatshirt or hat or something?”

  “I have my volunteer button on my coat.”

  “The big bubble coat that makes you look like the Michelin Man?”

  Doob pointed at me. “Nope, I’ve got a new one. It’s freezing out there, and standing around handing out water and what-not will make me colder than if I was walking. Besides that, I donated, so I think I can wear whatever I want. We’re going to see all kinds of crazy clothes, so I’ll fit in just fine.”

  “Yeah, you’re big with fitting in,” I said with an eye roll.

  But donated he had. I would venture his donation had been the largest received for the foundation, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched this generous human-seal prance around his living room.

  “So where’s the new coat?”

  “So glad you asked.” He headed for the front closet.

  For the second time, I almost choked on my cereal when he pulled out a brown, full-length, faux mink coat.

  “Absolutely not, Doob.” But I knew it was pointless.

  “I got it at the Salvation Army a couple of weeks ago, and I love it,” Doob countered. “I figure I’ll give it to someone in need today, or I’ll wrap your comatose body in it and bring you home when you collapse just after the starting gate.”

  I had to admit, it wasn’t a half-bad idea.

  “When did you start shopping at the Salvation Army?”

  “I like it there. I usually go to drop things off—mostly computer-related stuff—but sometimes I find some cool, vintage clothes.”

  “Doob, all your clothes are from the fifth grade. It doesn’t get more vintage than that.” I paused. “And for the record, I will make it past the starting gate.”

  Doob arched his eyebrows. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 26

  WHEN DOOB AND I ARRIVED OUTSIDE THE BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY, I was thrilled to see tons of people milling around. An electric feeling surrounded the building that was established in the late-19th century, with its arched windows and numerous flags flapping in the wind. Everyone’s breath plumed in the cold air and, as Doob had predicted, there were all sorts of get-ups. One guy had a unitard similar to Doob’s, but this guy’s looked like an American flag. Another lady had face-paint with black and white stripes and wore what looked to be old-time prison garb to match her face. I’m sure there was some story to go along with her outfit, but I didn’t stop to ask.

  In group fashion, one lady had three teenage children with her, and they all had Thanksgiving turkey-hats on their heads. A young couple was duct-taped together at her left ankle and his right ankle, and at the waist; that was going to make bathroom visits interesting, I mused. Along those same lines, two men in tuxedos with purple boas were handcuffed to each other, and one was singing Anne Murray songs at the top of his lungs for no apparent reason. A cluster of ladies represented friends with breast cancer, and they all looked lovely in their pink outfits and ribbon pins. An assembly of younger kids—maybe eleven or twelve-year-olds—dressed in navy, sported Red Sox foam fingers on each hand.

  And finally, there were tee shirts embossed with a photo of Darrin and Bobby together—Darrin in a baseball hat and Bobby in sunglasses—and they looked young and vibrant and happy. It was wonderful to see the support for these two men amongst all these people. Yet, I found myself looking away every time one of those tee shirts got in my line of sight. Each time I saw their smiling faces, it was a punch to my gut.

  Doob went in one direction to check in as a volunteer, and I headed off in the opposite to get myself checked in as a participant.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed someone watching me, but it was one of those things my subconscious realized before I was completely aware. When I made eye contact, she took off her sunglasses and did a little finger wave. The black baseball hat and blonde ponytail made for a good disguise, but with her glasses off, there was no doubt.

  I was fifteen yards away from Melanie.

  CHAPTER 27

  THIS WASN’T ONE OF THOSE I think I saw her in a supermarket aisle moments I shunned aside. This was a she is fucking here, right now moment. This was a maybe I can do something this time around moment. I’d suspected it before, but the ho clue she’d sent me must have meant she was coming home.

  People milled around us, and my brain screamed at me to react while my feet struggled to get out of the cement boots they’d suddenly become encased in. A large group of walkers crossed between Melanie and me, laughing and chatting it up, unaware of their proximity to the monster. They wore the Darrin/Bobby tee shirts and had balloons bearing the same photo—and here was the girl who murdered both of them right in the middle of it all.

  As if straight from a movie, once that group of people passed, Melanie was gone. Like she’d evaporated into thin air. Like I had imagined her. But I hadn’t.

  I swiveled around three or four times, trying to get a bead on her, but it was pointless. There were too many people, and the balloons, being handed out at a nearby table, seemed to multiply as they clustered and blocked my line of sight.

  What to do? I needed to call the cops, but I had to let Doob know, and—God help me—I had to let David know as well. I needed to prioritize. I needed to act.

  First things first. I whipped out my cell phone and speed-dialed Colin Burns, the detective I’d worked closely with when Melanie had fled the scene of Darrin’s murder. I liked Colin, a short, stocky, red-headed detective who always looked disheveled. He always appears to be running late for whatever event he’s going to and arrives with bread crumbs on his jacket and ketchup on his mouth. It’s easy to underestimate guys like that, and
that works to his advantage. He’s got a sharp mind, a quick wit, and he definitely doesn’t like to see bad guys get away. Melanie’s vanishing act had really bothered him, and he contacted me regularly. I appreciated his tenacity and his follow-up, and I knew he’d be like a dog on a bone if he heard she was back in town.

  “Burns,” he answered brusquely. I pictured him cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder like he does, with a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

  “Colin, it’s Meagan. I’m at the charity walk we talked about last week, and I just saw Melanie. It’s her, there’s not a doubt in my mind. She waved at me, taunting me, then I lost her in the crowd. You’ve got to get down here right now.”

  “Okay, tell me exactly where you’re at,” he said with an immediate sense of urgency. I loved that he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t doubt me. He was at-the-ready and headed my way.

  Now we just needed to find her again.

  CHAPTER 28

  I SPEED-DIALED DOOB, AND IT WENT STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL. Damn! He was probably heading toward his volunteer post. Would Melanie mess with him? I had no idea.

  I’d keep dialing Doob every five minutes and find David in the meantime. David, whose step-brother was dead, in part, because of my shortcomings. David—of the huge heart and huge brown eyes—who was organizing an event in an attempt to bring something positive out of such a tragedy. And now I needed to tell him Darrin and Bobby’s murderer was here, roaming around the festivities.

  The walk was scheduled to start in about thirty minutes, so I didn’t have a ton of time to find and warn him. I assumed his step-mother would be in the area as well, and I wanted to get her to safety.

  And then I thought of Vic, Melanie’s intended final victim in her family murder spree. Weaving around the people and looking for David, I speed-dialed the geriatric frat house and willed someone to pick up.

  Thankfully Vic himself picked up on the third ring. “Hi Meagan,” he said cheerfully, evidently seeing my number on their Caller ID.

  “Vic, listen to me,” I urged. “Melanie is here in Boston. I’m at the charity walk for Darrin and Bobby, and she’s here. I’ve lost sight of her, and I’ve called Colin Burns to get down here to help me, but I need you to be very careful today. Warn the guys at the house, and get the hell out of town if you need to. I don’t want anything happening to any of you.” I paused for a beat. “Obviously, you’re her target, so don’t go getting killed on me.”

  There was silence for a moment, and Vic’s voice was ragged when he spoke. “Okay. The guys and I have planned for this. Six of the eight of us are home right now, and I know how to get in touch with the other two. Your uncle has some friends who said they’d be willing to help guard the house when this happened, so we’ll put our plan into motion.”

  He sounded a little bit mechanical. I guess that was a good thing. “Vic, I’ll call you once Colin gets here and we form a plan. In the meantime, I’ve got to call my folks and a few other people. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Meagan. We’re ready for her.”

  I felt a pang of hurt for him. The her he referred to was his psychopathic daughter. That couldn’t be easy even though he’d never been a part of her life.

  As I jumped up on a park bench to scan the crowd, I made a similar phone call to my parents, and it was extremely brief. Given the already fragile state of affairs with my family, the news I relayed to Pop did nothing to help, but I didn’t care. I only wanted them safe.

  When Norman picked up his phone, he stopped just short of telling me he thought I was seeing things. I knew what he was thinking—Meagan has been feeling guilty since Darrin’s death in March, Meagan is emotional because she’s at the walk today, Meagan recently stole a hearse, Meagan shot and killed a man, and now poor Meagan has officially lost her mind.

  “Norman, it’s her.” I was losing my patience. “I’m positive.”

  “Kiddo, you’ve been through so much this year. I’m not saying I don’t believe you—”

  I hung up on him and blurted a few expletives. I was the one who’d walked into that apartment to save Moira, and I was the one who’d gone face-to-face with Melanie on that snowy night earlier in the year. Yeah, I wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t an idiot, either. And I didn’t appreciate Norman implying I was unhinged.

  As my eyes scanned the area, I finally saw David in front of a long table with brochures and pens scattered about. He was shaking hands, doling out balloons, and posing for pictures. It almost seemed like a political rally, and for a few precious seconds, I let myself get lost in it. I just stood and stared and appreciated everything about him.

  And then—out of nowhere—a certain girl with a dark hat, sunglasses, and a long, newly-blonde ponytail shook his hand and received a balloon. She quickly pulled out her cell phone, leaned in toward David and snapped a picture of the two of them, their heads almost touching and both grinning. They appeared to be the best of buddies; they could have even been a couple.

  He had no idea.

  She looked through the crowd right at me, blew a kiss, and once again, disappeared into the swarm of walkers.

  CHAPTER 29

  I PLOWED THROUGH PEOPLE WITH NO REGARD FOR COURTESY, grabbed David by the arm, and pulled him behind the table, just to have a barrier between us and the growing crowd.

  “Hey there, Meagan. I’d be glad to talk sometime, but I’m a little busy right now,” he said with a grin.

  I put both of my hands on his shoulders. “Sorry for the dramatics, but it was necessary. This is going to be hard to digest, but that girl you just took a picture with?” I softened my voice and tried for a sympathetic look. “David, that was Melanie. She’s here.”

  His face drained of color, and he aged twenty years in an instant.

  “My God, no,” he whispered and whipped around in all directions.

  “I need you to keep your cool. Keep doing your thing, keep smiling. I have Burns coming down here, and he’ll come with at least one other guy, probably more. I need to know if your step-mom and your dad are here. I don’t know if they’re targets, but I don’t want to find out the hard way.”

  David rubbed his face with his hand, and once again, I felt like the worst person on earth for bringing more trouble into his world.

  “She came down with some type of flu bug yesterday. She spent all day trying to shake it off but still felt like crap last night. She was devastated she wasn’t up to coming this morning, but now I guess it’s a good thing.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He stayed at home with her, didn’t want her to be alone. I’ll call them right now.” He paused. “You’re sure about this? Positive?”

  Anger sparked up inside me, but I squashed it hard. David deserved a smidge of slack, all things considered. “I’m positive, David. Call your folks, and stay alert. We’re going to find her.”

  His voice cracked as he put his hand on his head. “Do we need to call this off?”

  Hell if I knew. But if we did, wouldn’t that mean Melanie had won? Again? “I don’t think so,” I said. “Colin will be here any second, and we’ll see what he says.” I stared at him, helpless, for a minute. “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “I know.” And he pulled out his cell phone and turned his back on me.

  CHAPTER 30

  THE NEXT COUPLE HOURS PASSED BY WITHOUT INCIDENT, and to my immense frustration, without any more appearances from Melanie. The only solace I had was that two newspapers had coincidentally snapped the shot of David and Melanie posing together—probably thinking they made a dashing couple—so at least I had a small degree of proof the Melanie-sighting wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. Colin’s people down at the station determined her face was a match in their facial recognition system, despite the sunglasses and baseball cap.

  So friggin’ what? We still had no idea where she was.

  At Colin’s insistence, I’d actually finished the walk, scanning for Melanie the entire way. Colin, another detect
ive, and two Boston policemen staggered themselves along the route as well, but she had disappeared.

  I finally reached Doob just after the walk began, and he was on the lookout for her at the final kilometer, although I wasn’t sure how Doob would hold up if he saw her. He’d probably crap his purple unitard.

  The Green Line and the Orange Line were along the walk, which was part of the reason David had selected that route. He thought it would be an easy way for people to get in and out of Copley Square. Now it seemed it might have been convenient for Melanie as well. And one thing I knew about her—she always had an escape plan. Melanie was meticulous and conniving, and she’d leave nothing to chance.

  That said, something told me she was still in town. She didn’t fly in from overseas to wave at me, pose for a picture, and disappear. She had some unfinished business with Vic, and she wasn’t going to get this close and just leave.

  So…where was she?

  Time to think. Did she come back under her own name or under an alias? What mode of transportation did she use to get back to the States? How long had she been here? When did she change her hair color? Was someone helping her with money or housing? If not, how was she supporting herself? What was her next move?

  I had zero to go on and felt my blood pressure shooting through the stratosphere. I took a few deep breaths through my nose and let them out in slow puffs through my mouth. I saw that on some Zen television show, but it wasn’t doing shit for me right now. Fucking serene yoga people anyway.