Extreme Denial

by David Morrell

“No.” Decker avoided her gaze.

  “Tell me all of it,” Beth insisted.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’ve gotten to know you better than you think,” Beth said. “You’re keeping something from me.”

  “... This might not be the time to go into this.”

  “I’m asking you not to hide things from me.”

  Decker exhaled. “The detective in charge of the investigation—his name is Esperanza—feels that this wasn’t a random event, that those men broke in specifically to kill me.” Beth’s eyes widened.

  “I can’t imagine a reason anyone would want to kill me,” Decker lied. “But Esperanza thinks that, well, I ought to be careful for a while until he figures out what’s going on. There’s a policeman with me. Outside in the hallway. He drove me here. He’s sort of... I guess you could call him ...”

  “What?”

  “My bodyguard. And ...”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Decker looked deeply into her eyes. “You mean too much to me. I don’t want to put you in danger a second time. When you’re released from the hospital, I don’t think we should see each other for a while.”

  “Shouldn’t see each other?” Beth winced, sitting straighter.

  “What if you were struck by another bullet meant for me? It’s too dangerous. We’ve got to stay apart until Esperanza gets the answers he wants, until he says the risk is over.”

  “But this is insane.”

  Without warning, the door opened. Decker turned sharply, not knowing what to expect, relieved when he saw the short, slight doctor whom he had met when Beth was admitted to the hospital.

  “Ah,” the doctor said, adjusting his spectacles. “Mr. Decker. You must be as pleased as I am by Ms. Dwyer’s recovery.”

  Decker tried not to reveal the intense emotions his conversation with Beth had produced. “Yes, she’s recovering better than I’d even hoped.”

  The doctor walked over to Beth. “In fact, I’m so pleased, I’m going to release you.”

  Beth looked as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Release me?” She blinked. “Now? Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. Why? You don’t seem happy about—”

  “I’m delighted.” Beth glanced meaningfully at Decker.

  “It’s just that what happened has been so depressing ”

  “Well, now you have some good news,” the doctor said. “Resting in your own bed, with familiar things around you, you’ll be at the top of your form in no time.”

  “In no time,” Beth echoed, glancing again at Decker.

  “I stopped by your house and brought you some clothes.” Decker gave her the shopping bag he’d been holding. “Nothing fancy. Jeans. A pullover. Tennis shoes and socks. Underwear.” The latter reference made him feel self-conscious. “I’ll have a nurse bring you a wheelchair,” the doctor said. “But I’m able to walk,” Beth said.

  The doctor shook his head. “Our insurance won’t let you leave the hospital unless you’re in a wheelchair. After that, you can do as you like.”

  “Can I at least dress myself without a nurse watching?”

  “With an injured arm. Are you sure you can do it?”

  “Yes.” Beth checked that her hospital gown was fastened tightly, then allowed the doctor and Decker to help her out of bed. “There. You see?” Beth stood on her own, looking slightly off balance because of the sling on her right arm. “I can manage.”

  “I’ll help with your clothes,” Decker said.

  “Steve, I...”

  “What?”

  “I’m not feeling very attractive at the moment. In fact, I’m so grungy, I’m embarrassed.” She blushed. “I could use a little privacy.”

  “There’s no need to be embarrassed. But if you want privacy, sure, I’ll be waiting outside in the hallway. When you’re ready, the policeman will drive us home. If you do need help, though ...”

  “You can bet I’ll let you know.”

  10

  After Sanchez checked the parking lot, Decker nervously guided Beth through the hospital’s side entrance. On guard against any threatening movements in the out-of-the-way area, Decker helped Beth from the wheelchair into the backseat of the police car, then quickly closed the door and got in the front.

  “Why aren’t you sitting back here with me?” Beth asked as the police car pulled away.

  Decker didn’t answer.

  “Oh.” Her voice dropped as she realized. “You’re keeping a distance between us in case ...”

  “I’m having second thoughts about even being in the same car with you,” Decker said. “If Esperanza’s right, there’ll be another attempt against me, and I don’t want to put you at risk. I can’t bear the thought that something might happen to you because of me.” On edge, he kept studying the cars behind him.

  “And I can’t bear the thought of being apart from you,” Beth said. “Are you really determined that we shouldn’t see each other until this is over?”

  “If I could think of another option that was safe, I’d take it,” Decker said.

  “We could run away and hide.”

  Sanchez looked back at her. “Sergeant Esperanza wouldn’t appreciate that. In fact, I can guarantee he’d do everything possible to discourage you.”

  “That’s part of your job right now, isn’t it?” Decker asked. “To make sure I don’t leave the area?”

  No response.

  “It might be a good idea to avoid returning along St. Michael’s Drive,” Decker said. “Take an alternate route so we don’t follow a predictable pattern.”

  Sanchez looked strangely at him. “You sound as if this isn’t the first time you thought you were being watched.”

  “An alternative route just seemed a logical precaution.” Decker turned to Beth. “We’ll let you off at your house. You told me you had business back east, that you were leaving tomorrow. This is a good time for it. I know you don’t feel like traveling with your arm the way it is, but you’ll be able to rest when you get to New York. In fact, it would be a good idea if you stayed with relatives when your business meetings were over. Make it a long visit. And I think you should leave sooner. This afternoon.”

  Beth looked overwhelmed.

  “It’s the only sure way,” Decker said. “I still can’t believe Esperanza’s right, but in the event that he is, someone wanting to hurt me could use you as a weapon, maybe kidnap you.”

  “Kidnap me?”

  “It has to be considered as a possibility.”

  “Jesus, Steve.”

  “We can keep in touch by phone, and the moment Esperanza thinks it’s safe, you can come back.”

  “Stay away?”

  “Maybe it won’t be for a long time. Maybe it’ll just be a little while.”

  They lapsed into an awkward silence as Sanchez pulled into Beth’s driveway and parked the cruiser protectively sideways in front of the gate to her walled courtyard.

  Beth winced when Decker helped her out of the backseat.

  While Sanchez waited in the police car, they entered the courtyard and paused beneath the shadows of the portal, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “This has got to be a mistake,” Beth said. “I feel as if I’m having a nightmare and I’ll wake up in your arms and none of this will have happened.”

  Decker shook his head.

  “Can you think of any reason someone would want to kill you?” Beth asked.

  “I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times. A thousand times. I can’t think of an answer,” Decker lied. He studied her face intensely. “If I’m not going to see you for a while, I want to make sure I remember every detail of your face.”

  He leaned close, kissing her lips, trying to be gentle, to avoid her injured shoulder.

  Regardless of her wound, Beth used her free arm to hold him close against her, to kiss him as if trying to possess him, even as she winced from the pressure against her shoulder.

  She rested
her cheek against his, whispering urgently, “Run away with me.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  She leaned back, her eyes imploring as fiercely as her voice. “Please.”

  “Sanchez just told you, the police would stop us.”

  “If you truly loved me ...”

  “It’s because I love you that I can’t risk putting you in danger. Suppose we did manage to fool the police and run away. Suppose we were followed by whoever is after me. We’d always be looking over our shoulders. I won’t do that to you. I love you too much to ruin your life.”

  “One last time—please, come with me.”

  Decker shook his head firmly.

  “I’ll miss you more than you know.”

  “Just keep reminding yourself, this won’t be forever,” Decker said. “In time—with luck, soon—we’ll be together again. When you get to wherever you’re going, use a pay phone to call me. We’ll work out a way to keep in touch. And...” Decker breathed deeply. “There are so many details to be settled. I’ll ask Esperanza to have a policeman drive you to the airport. Also ...”

  Beth put a finger to his lips. “I’m sure you’ll take care of everything.” Reluctantly, she added, “I’ll phone your house when I’ve made flight arrangements.”

  “Do you need help getting your suitcases ready?”

  “Most of my stuff is already packed.”

  Decker kissed her a final time.

  “Remember the best day we ever had together,” Beth said. “There’ll be many more.” Decker waited until he had his last glimpse of Beth going into the house. Only after she closed the door did he turn and walk back to the cruiser.

  11

  “I want to talk to you.” Esperanza was waiting in Decker’s driveway when the cruiser pulled in. His normally relaxed lean features were rigid with fury. “I want to know why you lied to me!”

  “Lied?”

  Esperanza stared past Decker toward bystanders on the road. “Inside.”

  “If you’d tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Inside.”

  Decker lifted his hands in a surrendering motion. “Whatever you say.”

  Esperanza slammed the door shut behind them after they entered. They faced each other in the living room.

  “I asked you if you were holding anything back. You said you’d told me everything you could think of.” Esperanza’s breathing was strident.

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, you ought to see a doctor—you’re having serious memory problems,” Esperanza said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have overlooked mentioning something as important as your connection with the FBI.”

  “The FBI?” Decker asked in genuine surprise.

  “Damn it, are you also having hearing problems? Yeah! The FBI! The head of the Santa Fe bureau called me an hour ago and said he wanted to have a little chat. What could he possibly have in mind? I wondered. Something to do with Los Alamos or the Sandia labs? A national security problem? Or maybe an interstate crime spree? So imagine my surprise when I met him at his office and he started talking about the attack on your house.”

  Decker didn’t trust himself to speak.

  “It’s a federal matter now—did you know that? Federal. Why, I could barely keep my mouth from hanging open when he told me all about what happened last night. He knew details only Sanchez and I and a few other policemen know. How the hell did he get that information? It’s not like he asked about last night, sort of professional curiosity. He didn’t need to ask. He told me. And then he told me something else— that the FBI would appreciate it if I let them handle the case from now on.”

  Decker remained still, fearing that any reaction he made would cause Esperanza to become more agitated.

  “The attack on your house involves extremely sensitive matters, I was informed. Information about the FBI’s interest in the attack is passed out on a need-to-know basis and I do not need to know, I was assured. If I persisted in remaining attached to the case, I would cause untold harm, I was warned.” Esperanza’s eyes were ablaze with anger. “Fine, I said. I mean, hey, I wouldn’t want to cause untold harm. God forbid. I’m as good a team player as the next man. My hands are off the case.” Esperanza stalked toward Decker. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t nose around unofficially, and it certainly doesn’t mean I can’t demand a private explanation from you! Who the hell are you? What really happened last night? Why didn’t you keep me from making a fool of myself by telling me from the start to go talk to the FBI?”

  WHUMP.

  With a roar, the house shook.

  12

  Decker and Esperanza frowned at each other as a deafening rumble shuddered through them.

  “What the—” Windows rattled. Dishes clattered. Decker felt a change in air pressure, as if cotton batting had been pushed into his ears.

  “Something blew up!” Esperanza said. “It came from—”

  “Down the street! Jesus, you don’t suppose.” Decker lunged toward the front door and yanked it open just as Sanchez, who had been waiting outside, ran into the courtyard.

  “The house next door!” Sanchez said, pointing, agitated. “It—”

  Another roar shook them, the rumbling shock wave of a second explosion knocking Decker off balance. “Beth!” Regaining his footing, he charged past Sanchez, through the open gate, and into the driveway. To his right, above the piñons and junipers that shielded Beth’s house, black smoke billowed. Wreckage cascaded. Even from a hundred yards away, Decker heard the whoosh of flames.

  “Beth!” Vaguely aware that Esperanza and Sanchez were next to him, Decker raced to help her. He ignored the police car. He ignored the road. His throat raw from screaming Beth’s name, he chose the most direct route, charged to the right, crossed his driveway, and scrambled among piñon trees.

  “BETH!” Branches scraped his arms. Sand crunched beneath his shoes. Esperanza shouted to him. But all Decker really heard was the fierce rush of his breathing as he swerved around a farther tree, the flames and dark smoke looming closer in front of him.

  As the trees ended, he reached a waist-high wooden fence, gripped a post, vaulted a rail, and landed on Beth’s property. The fiery, smoke-obscured wreckage of the house was spread before him. The bitter stench of burning wood surged into his nostrils, searing his throat and lungs, making him cough.

  “BETH!” The whoosh of the flames was so loud that he couldn’t hear himself scream her name. Fractured adobe bricks were strewn everywhere. He stumbled over them. Smoke stung his eyes. Abruptly a breeze caused the smoke to shift, showing him that not all of the house was on fire. A corner section at the back had not yet been engulfed. Beth’s bedroom was in that section.

  Esperanza grasped his shoulder, trying to stop him. Decker shoved his hand away and rushed toward the back. He squirmed over a waist-high wall, crossed a wreckage littered patio, and reached one of the bedroom windows. The force of the explosions had blown the glass out, leaving jagged edges that he broke off with a chunk of adobe he found at his feet.

  The effort made him breathe hoarsely. As smoke billowed out, he swallowed some of it, strained to control his coughing, and peered through the window. “Beth!” Again, Esperanza grabbed him. Again, Decker shoved him away.

  “Leave me alone!” Decker screamed. “Beth needs me!” He pulled himself through the window, tumbled to the floor, and banged his shoulder on more wreckage. Smoke surrounded him. He lurched toward the bed but found it empty. Coughing more violently, he groped along the floor, hoping to find Beth if she had collapsed. He felt his way toward the bathroom, bumped against the closed door, and became excited by the thought that Beth had taken shelter there, but when he tugged the door open, he had a heart-sinking chance, before the smoke swept in, to see that the bathroom’s tub and shower stall were empty.

  His vision blurred. He felt heat and recoiled from flames that filled the bedroom doorway. At the same time, he was pressed down by the force of other flames that roared from the ceiling
. He fell to the floor and crawled, struggling to breathe. He reached the window, fought to stand, and shoved his head through the opening, trying to pull himself outside. Something crashed behind him. Heat swept over his legs. At once something else crashed. Beams must be falling, he thought in dismay. The roof’s about to collapse. Heat pressed against his hips. Frantic, he pulled and pushed and fell outward through the window.

  Hands grabbed him, dragging him fiercely over wreckage as flames followed Decker through the window. The hands belonged to Esperanza, who clutched Decker’s jacket, jerked him to his feet, and shoved him over the waist-high wall.

  Decker felt weightless. Immediately he landed hard on the opposite side of the wall, rolled, and struck the base of a piñon tree. Esperanza dropped next to him, pursued by flames that ignited the tree. As the branches crackled, fire erupting, Esperanza dragged Decker farther away.

  Another tree burst into flames.

  “We have to keep going!” Esperanza shouted.

  Decker stared back at the house. The smoke-spewing wreckage shimmered from the intense heat. “Beth’s in there!”

  “There’s nothing more you can do to help her! We have to get farther away!”

  Listing, Decker fought to get air in his lungs. He stifled the urge to vomit and staggered with Esperanza through smoke down the treed slope at the rear of Beth’s house. Again, he stared back at the inferno. “Christ, what am I going to do? Beth!” he kept screaming. “BETH!”

  SIX

  1

  Decker sat numbly on the hard-packed dirt of Camino Lindo, his back against the right rear wheel of a paramedic truck, breathing through an oxygen mask. The gas was dry and bitter, or maybe the bitterness was because of the smoke he had inhaled—he didn’t know. He heard the oxygen hiss from a tank beside him, a paramedic checking the pressure gauge on top. He heard the rumble of engines, lire trucks, police cars, other emergency vehicles. He heard firemen shouting to one another as they sprayed water from numerous hoses onto the smoking wreckage of Beth’s house.

  My fault, he thought. All my fault.

  He must have said it out loud, because the paramedic asked, “What?” The man frowned with concern and took the mask from Decker’s face. “Are you all right? Do you think you’re going to throw up?”