Warren Lane

by Andrew Diamond

  He was relieved when he quit, and thought it was all over. But now, as he sipped Scotch on the gilded couch in his house full of treasures, he realized the reckoning was approaching from all sides. The story of Ben Schwartz’s wife had pricked his conscience, suffusing him with a vague, persistent anxiety. The federal investigators would eventually find their way to him now that Yun was in custody. He assumed his wife already knew of Ella from Warren Lane.

  Ella was the one remaining bright spot in his life, and he had just strangled her. He let out a loud groan as he pressed the icy mug of Scotch to his forehead. “Oh, God. What the hell am I doing?”

  He remembered the fake passport in his desk at work. Most of his smuggling money was in the account in Hong Kong. He would need a day or two to settle matters at work, and then he would fly to Asia.

  The thought of abandoning Susan, whom he had already betrayed, and leaving her to clean up this mess on her own filled him with shame. But he knew she wouldn’t go with him once Warren Lane and the feds showed her who he had become. He was already starting to think of her as part of his past.

  Before he left the house, he paid off Ella’s credit cards. This was an act of contrition, the one wrong he still had the power to set right.

  Chapter 36

  Ready was watching TV in Susan’s room at the Canary while Susan showered. When his phone rang, he muted the television and said, “Hello?”

  “Warren?” Ella was crying and hyperventilating.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Will tried to strangle me. He slammed me against the wall and strangled me.”

  “What the fuck?” Ready said. “Take a breath. Where are you?”

  “Driving. State Street, near Figueroa. Where are you?”

  “At the Canary. About a block from where you are.”

  “Which room?” Ella asked.

  “302.”

  “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  “Wait! No!”

  But she had already hung up. Ready heard the shower turn off. He burst into the bathroom and said, “Susan, you have to leave.”

  “What? Why?” she asked as she reached for a towel.

  “Please don’t ask, just get out.”

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  Ready returned to the bed and pulled a skirt and blouse from Susan’s bag and threw them at her in the bathroom. “Put these on and get out,” Ready said.

  “What’s gotten into you? I need a bra and underwear.”

  “You can come back later and get those,” Ready said.

  Still dripping, Susan stepped into the skirt and put her arms through the sleeves of the blouse. Ready opened the door to the hallway and looked toward the elevators. Then he returned to the room and put Susan’s bag and loose clothing into the closet.

  Susan came out of the bathroom to find him carrying a pair of her shoes. “What are you doing with those?”

  “Putting them in the closet.”

  “Give them to me,” she said. “I’ll wear them. What’s going on Warren? Are you married?”

  “No,” said Ready, clearly in distress. “There’s someone coming I don’t want you to see.”

  “You don’t want me to see them,” Susan asked, “or you don’t want them to see me?”

  “Both.”

  Susan studied him for a second with a curious look, then said, “OK, Warren. I’ll go. Will you tell me what this is about?”

  “Later, I promise,” Ready said.

  With her hair dripping and wet spots all over her clothes, Susan threw her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss on the mouth. Her back was to the door, and as they parted, Ready opened his eyes to see Ella standing just outside. Her mouth was expressionless and her eyes were filled with hurt. The sight of her took all the wind out of him, and the same feelings of disappointment and betrayal that shot through her heart shot through his.

  Ella turned and walked away. Susan never realized anyone was behind her. When she opened her eyes and saw the pained expression on Ready’s face, she said, “What’s wrong? What is it?”

  Ready couldn’t speak.

  Chapter 37

  Will Moore awoke alone in his own bed at nine o’clock the next morning. His cell phone was ringing but he didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “Good morning, Mr. Moore,” came the taunting voice from the other end.

  “Who is this?” Will asked irritably.

  “Warren Lane.”

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Well, first of all, I’d like to congratulate your wife on that little stunt she pulled the other day. No one’s ever gotten me quite like that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind. Look, Will, I’ve been doing a little investigation into your business and I’ve uncovered some very interesting things. Perhaps we should meet to discuss how to handle this matter.”

  “Fuck off,” Will said, and ended the call.

  Ten minutes later, he was in the kitchen when the front door opened. He walked out to see who was there.

  “I was surprised to see your car out front,” Susan said. “I thought you’d be at work by now. I just came to get a few things.”

  Will stood looking at her, and for the first time since that day in the bookstore thirteen years ago, he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he said, “You want some coffee? Come into the kitchen.”

  “I don’t want coffee,” she said as she followed him into the kitchen. “I’m going to get my own apartment, Will. I can’t be with you anymore, and you know why.”

  Will looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment and then said with genuine regret, “I’m sorry, Susan.”

  “You should be,” she said. She was calm and fully in possession of herself. “How could you betray me like that? Do you know how much it hurts to lose faith in the person you trusted above all others? Do you know how much it hurts to find no love in your heart for the one you wanted to love forever? It’s the bitterest thing a person can feel.”

  Will sat on a stool at the kitchen island and hung his head and let his shoulders slump.

  “I have a lawyer,” Susan said. “And we have evidence. I know this isn’t a one-time thing. I know what you’ve been doing.”

  Will looked at her sorrowfully and said, “I won’t fight you, Susan. I won’t make you suffer anymore. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

  Susan felt a touch of pity for the man. He let out a long slow breath and then asked in a weary voice, “Who is he?”

  “Who is who?” But she knew what he was asking.

  “Who are you sleeping with?” he asked. “The manager at the hotel told me about your visitor.”

  She didn’t want to tell him it was the detective she had hired to investigate him. That would be an unnecessary provocation. So she said, “Just someone I met by chance. He’s a good man.” Then, thinking back to the day Ready found her in front of the pharmacy, she added, “Some angel must have thrown him in my path.”

  “Do you love him?” Will asked, still looking down toward the floor.

  “Very much,” Susan said.

  Will nodded. “You deserve it, Susan,” he said. “You deserve someone who will make you happy. What’s his name?”

  “Warren,” she replied. “Warren Lane.”

  At the mention of this name, Will’s hands began to tremble, and Susan instinctively stepped away from him. Will felt his control slipping away, as it had the day before when he attacked Ella. In a trembling voice, he said to her, “Get out of here, Susan. I’m going to hurt you. Run, Susan, run!” he begged.

  She did as he asked, and was gone.

  For several minutes after she left, Will tried to steady his breathing. He wouldn’t allow himself to move until he w
as certain she was gone. When he finally got up, he filled a glass with Scotch and ice, and his phone rang again. This time it was his mother.

  “What?” said Will irritably.

  “What yourself!” his mother snapped. “Don’t answer the phone like that.”

  “Sorry, ma. I’m a little on edge this morning.” He took a sip of Scotch.

  “Sounds like it,” his mother said. “I hear ice tinkling. You’re not drinking, are you?”

  “I’m afraid it’s that kind of day,” said Will.

  “Well, have one for me while you’re at it. I’m having that kind of day too. You know what’s wrong with my day, son? I don’t have my pills.”

  “Relax,” Will said. “I’ll drop them by before lunch.”

  “Well aren’t we cranky this morning?” his mother replied. “When you finish that drink, go ahead and pour yourself another. I don’t want you bringing that attitude into my retirement home.”

  “All right, ma.”

  She hung up, and as Will poured himself a second drink, his phone rang again.

  “Hi, Will,” said Ella.

  Will took a deep breath. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I did yesterday.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Will said. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me.”

  “I know you’re under a lot of stress, Will. I can see it. Maybe you need to blow off a little steam.”

  “I don’t know if today’s the day for that.”

  “I’m really horny,” Ella said. “I keep running the washing machine on spin cycle just so I can rub myself against the corner of it.”

  “It’s that bad?” Will asked. The image of her pressing against the vibrating machine aroused him.

  “It’s that bad,” Ella said.

  The Scotch was beginning to do its job, and a sense of warm wellbeing washed over him. In his mind, he saw her naked again on that balcony in Miami, with the warm sea stretched out behind her. He pictured her lithe body moving beneath him, the sweat on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the clear blue eyes looking up at him.

  “You know what you are?” Will said.

  “What?”

  “You are my sunshine.”

  “That’s sweet, Will. How soon can you get here?”

  “Half an hour. I have to stop and pick up a prescription.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  She hung up. Will finished his Scotch and got into his car.

  Chapter 38

  As Will was on his way to Ella’s house, Ready stood at a gas pump, filling his tank with one hand and holding his phone to his ear with the other. “Come on, Ella. Answer. Please answer!”

  When her voicemail picked up, he said, “Ella, I’m sorry! Please call me. Please! I have to see you, Ella. I love you, and I’m sorry!”

  The gas nozzle clicked. Ready laid his phone on the roof of the car as he put the nozzle back into its holder. He bought a six-pack in the mini-mart and opened a beer as he drove toward Ella’s house. As he accelerated onto the Pacific Coast Highway, his phone slid off the back of the car and was crushed beneath the wheel of the truck behind him.

  Will arrived at Ella’s house about a minute before Ready did. The drive gave Will time to think about his wife and Warren Lane, and once again his anger began to rise. Josie was standing on Ella’s doorstep when Will got out of the car. Before going up the walk, he took a moment to calm himself so he wouldn’t frighten her.

  “Hello, little girl,” he said in the politest tone he could muster. “What have you got there?”

  She showed him the little flowers she had picked. “Flowers for Miss Ella,” she said. “And her boyfriend.”

  Ready watched the two of them talk from his little blue Toyota as he cruised slowly past the house. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. “Go away, you bastard!”

  “What boyfriend?” Will asked.

  “The one who takes her upstairs and makes her scream ‘Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!’” said Josie.

  Ready drove away.

  “Get out of my way, you little shit,” said Will. He pushed her aside and burst through the door. “Ella!” he screamed.

  Ella was standing next to the liquor tray in the living room. She knew this would be their final confrontation, and she couldn’t suppress a little smile at seeing Will so upset.

  She said, “Get ahold of yourself, Will. You’re going to have a heart attack.”

  Will’s phone rang. The screen said “Mother.” He rejected the call.

  “Who are you fucking in my house?” he demanded hotly.

  “You want a drink Will? You really need to calm down.” She poured a glass of Scotch and walked toward him with the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other.

  Just as she reached him, she leapt with a dancer’s strength and grace and kicked him in the crotch with all her might. She let out a little laugh as he crumpled to the floor.

  “What was it you wanted to know, Will?” she asked in a gentle, teasing tone. “Who am I fucking? Was that the question?” She took a sip of Scotch, then stood on the toes of her left foot and twirled like a ballerina. Unable to draw a breath, Will looked up at her with a red face and watery eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” Ella asked, mocking a look of concern. “Is little Willie sad?”

  She walked in a circle around him, smiling her girlish smile. His phone rang again. Ella picked it up from the rug and looked at the screen.

  “It’s your mommy, Will. Why don’t you talk to her? Maybe she can make you feel better.” She swiped to accept the call, then handed him the phone.

  Holding it to his ear, all Will could do for several seconds was gasp in pain. Finally, he grunted, “Hello?”

  “Good God, William!” barked his mother. “Don’t answer the phone while you’re having sex! This is your mother, for Christ’s sake! Have some decency. Do you have my medicine?”

  Will grunted a few more times before he was able to gasp out the word, “Yeah.”

  “Well, when are you going to bring it to me?” she demanded. “It sounds like you’re busy. You tell that sweet wife of yours I say hello. Go on. Tell her right now. Is she enjoying herself, William? You can tell if you look at her face.”

  She paused for a moment then added, “You finish up your business, and take your time about it. A woman doesn’t like to be rushed. And when you’re done, you get over here with my medicine. I feel like shit.”

  She hung up.

  “Do you really want to know who I’m fucking?” Ella asked, hovering lightly behind him. “It’s a friend of yours, Will.”

  “What friend?” Will grunted, still doubled over on the floor.

  She circled back in front of him. “Your best friend.”

  “I don’t have a best friend,” Will said looking up at her.

  “Oh?” said Ella, feigning sadness. “He told me he was your best friend, and it made me come.”

  “Who is it?” Will asked in a tone of pained desperation.

  “Warren Laaaaaaane,” Ella said, stretching out the name for effect.

  Will’s face went from red to purple, and his whole body began to shake.

  “Oh, my!” said Ella with delight. “That one hit the mark!”

  She poured the bottle of Scotch onto the rug and threw a match on it. She grabbed her keys from the table by the front door, and as the puddle of flame began to lick the sofa, she said, “Get out while you can, Will. Good bye!”

  She blew a kiss behind her as she left the house, and then drove off into the hills.

  Ready was several minutes ahead of her on the same road. While Ella was still ascending the mountain with her music at full volume, Ready hiked up to his rock, carrying his six-pack with him. For a long time he sat looking out over the city.
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br />   A young man and a young woman came by with a pack of children. They all wore matching T-shirts that said Camp Sunshine. The children picked up stones and drew in the dirt with sticks as the counselors unpacked their snacks. Wary of Ready and his beer bottles, the young woman steered the kids away from him.

  Ready paid them no attention and didn’t notice when they left. But as he finished his sixth beer, the blaring music from a car descending the road below seemed to awaken him, and he realized he had been staring for some time at a stream of dark grey smoke rising from the northern edge of Goleta. He did some calculations in his head and concluded, “That’s Ella’s neighborhood.”

  That was excuse enough to drive back into town. If Ella wasn’t home, he’d buy more beer.

  Chapter 39

  By the time Will made it to his feet, the couch was on fire. “Fuck it!” he said. “I’ll be out of the country tonight. Fuck this place! Fuck Goleta! Fuck Santa Barbara! Fuck California!” He opened the freezer and packed some ice into a plastic bag, then went out the back door as the kitchen filled with smoke.

  He drove straight to his mother’s retirement home, where Lucille watched him walk in gingerly, holding the bag of ice against his crotch.

  “What’s the matter?” his mother asked. “Have the girls been teasing you?”

  “Some little prick is trying to ruin my life,” Will said.

  “William, I’ve known since you were in high school exactly which little prick was going to ruin your life. Don’t try to blame your problems on other people. You’re too indulgent with yourself, and you don’t have enough consideration for others. You wouldn’t have been able to get away with half the things you’ve done if it weren’t for your money. Now where’s my medicine?”

  Will handed her the bottle of pills. When she struggled to open it, he pulled the cap off for her.

  “Thank you,” said Lucille. “Now what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”

  “Some private investigator is after me,” Will said. “Some asshole named Warren Lane.”

  “Warren Lane,” Lucille repeated fondly. “He’s a looker, that one.”