Infidelity Inlet: A Liars Island Suspense

by Carol McMahon

  “I don’t know your number. It’s in my phone. I don’t have it memorized.”

  “Here,” I said, pulling a pen and a piece of paper out of my pocket. “I’ll write my number down. You can pretend it’s the number for a tow truck.”

  “Wow, you really did come prepared.” Dave took the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. “Okay, but what if he asks me my name?”

  “Make something up. Tell him you’re Mark. No last name.”

  “What if he asks me where I was going?”

  “Tell him you came to the island on vacation and took a drive and got lost and your rental car broke down. That’s it. You can say you’re calling the rental car agency and they’re sending a tow truck, and isn’t it just like those cheapskates to give you a bum car. How’s that?”

  Dave nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Okay, you ready?”

  Dave looked at me and nodded again, then headed to the door. When he got there, he stalled out for about a minute, and I thought he was going to bail, but at the last second he got the courage to ring the doorbell. When I heard the sound, I immediately glanced up at the figure on the couch, fully expecting it to get up, but it didn’t. The shadowy outline didn’t even move.

  After another minute or so Dave rang the bell again, and again there was nothing. No porch light, no movement, no sound.

  Dave turned around and did a sort of tiptoe run across the patio back to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. He’s not moving.”

  “That’s crazy. Do you think it’s a decoy?”

  “A decoy? For what?”

  “I don’t know,” Dave whispered. “Snipers?”

  I laughed out loud. “Why would some regular dude have a decoy of his own body sitting on his living room couch to throw off snipers?”

  “Maybe he’s not a regular dude. I mean, he is blackmailing you.”

  Dave had a point. I had no idea what this guy was capable of. He could full well have a decoy on his couch for snipers, for all I knew.

  “Okay, I’m going in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. If you don’t want any part of this then head back to the car. I’ll be good.”

  As I crossed the patio, I pulled my set of lock-picking tools out of another one of my pockets. Dave was right, I had come prepared. I hadn’t exactly planned on breaking in, but I also hadn’t planned on staying outside either.

  When I got to the door, I took one more opportunity to let whoever was inside know I was there and I knocked, loud. That I stood there silently, holding my breath, and listened for even the slightest sound. There was nothing, so I used two thin rods of metal to unlock the door.

  When I opened it up and stepped inside, I felt Dave right behind me again. “Get in quick and shut the door,” I said. “Lock it, just in case he shows up.”

  As I stepped silently into the foyer, I heard the lock click behind me. Then when I approached the open doorway that led into what I assumed was the living room, I felt Dave behind me again. If someone was, in fact, sitting on the couch, they would see me immediately. I didn’t think there was anyone there, but since I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure, I didn’t want to chance it.

  I looked around and found a black leather loafer at the base of a coat rack, picked it up, and tossed it into the living room. I could feel Dave’s entire body tense up after the shoe hit the coffee table. The two of us looked at each other while we waited for any sign of life inside that room, and when it was pretty obvious that no actual human being was in there, I stepped through the doorway.

  “What is that thing?” Dave asked, still hanging back behind me as we approached the couch.

  “I don’t know,” I said, poking what looked like a dummy with one of my fingers. “It’s like a life-size sock puppet, made out of old clothes or something.”

  “That’s so weird. Why would someone put something creepy like that in their own living room?”

  “You were the one that said it, Dave. Maybe he’s not a regular guy.”

  The two of us looked around a bit. I had no idea what I expected to find, and apparently neither did Dave. He just kept commenting on the artwork and statues in the living room.

  “Damn, get a load of this one,” he said, nudging a small, lounging figure.

  “Henry Moore,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “The artist. He’s the one who made that. I’m pretty sure he carved it out of stone.” I’d taken a semester of sculpture as an elective while I was getting my undergrad, so I knew a little bit about some of the modern art this Robert Logan character had littered around his house. It wasn’t exactly my favorite, but suppose it made things a little more interesting.

  “Yikes!” Dave said. “It must be really heavy!”

  Dave picked up another figure study, but one that was tall and skinny and looked like it might have been cast out of some sort of metal. He studied the statue for a few seconds, then set it back down. “Man, I’d hate to have to move all this stuff.”

  Suddenly a stream of headlights flashed through the trees outside and off of the living room walls.

  “Oh, shit!” Dave said. “He’s back! I knew we shouldn’t have come in here! We’ve gotta hide!”

  The two of us ran through the living room and into the hallway, then through the nearest doorway we could find, which happened to be the kitchen.

  “This is the first room he’s gonna come into,” Dave whispered. “You know, grab a beer and make something to eat, especially after a long day of blackmailing people. What are we gonna do?”

  I saw a door that led to a stairway at the back of the kitchen. “Over there. Let’s go.”

  The two of us made it across the kitchen floor and down the first few stairs before we heard the lock turn on the front door. By the time we got to the basement floor, the door was being closed and locked again. The hall was carpeted, but there were audible sounds coming from the floor above us.

  It definitely sounded like just one set of footsteps that entered the house, and from what I could tell, they didn’t turn on any lights. They didn’t even go into the kitchen. It sounded like they went down the hall and into one of the rooms at the back of the house.

  I looked around the basement. Light was coming in through a couple different windows, and because the moon was almost full, I could see pretty well. There were boxes and chairs and tables scattered around, and a pool table right in the middle of the room. There were also shelves filled with canned and dry goods that lined a couple of the walls.

  Just across from where I was standing, I noticed another full-sized refrigerator. I knew some people had more than one fridge, one in the kitchen and one in the basement for storage. But this guy lived alone. At least as far as my research showed. It didn’t really make sense that he would need two full-sized refrigerators. Unless, maybe he hunted and used it for large quantities of meat.

  Out of curiosity, I walked across the room as quietly as I could and opened the refrigerator door. And there, slumped up in one corner, was the body of a man. A man who looked a hell of a lot like the picture I had seen online of Robert Landon.

  Chapter 8

  Casey

  As the last bit of light from the sun fell behind the trees and danced across the lake, I stood in the living room and stared at the beauty that was surrounding me. I couldn’t believe this was my life now. It was absolutely perfect. This house … it was amazing. I never imagined I’d be living in a place like this. I never imagined things would actually work out for me.

  The huge window that looked out on the forested property and White Lie Lake was spectacular. I could sit in front of it for hours just gazing out at the wildlife and the changes in the vast sky. It made me feel free, looking out at that great expanse. Almost like I could fly.

  When it was dark outside, and all I could see was my own reflection in the glass of the window, I went into the kitchen. I wasn’t sure when Robert would be coming home, but I kn
ew when he did, he would be hungry.

  There was a lot of food in the refrigerator and in the cupboards, but not much that was familiar to me. Anchovy paste, gochujang, pecorino cheese, and pickled asparagus were all neatly arranged on the shelves, as well as clear glass containers filled with all sorts of unknown contents. I had no idea what to do with any of those ingredients, and I wanted Robert’s dinner to be perfect. Eventually I found some spaghetti and a fancy-looking jar of pasta sauce in the pantry, so I settled on that.

  I wanted to impress Robert. I wanted him to come home and see that I would be worth having around. That I could be of some value. But I didn’t want to stay with Robert because I was in love with him, like I’d told Stacy. I knew we weren’t destined to be together. I didn’t feel anything for him when we kissed or made love. He didn’t stir any deep feelings or cause waves of tingles to dance across my skin when his lips touched mine.

  But he was here on this island, and his house was secluded, as well as incredibly comfortable and luxurious. And he was a fairly reclusive man. He rarely went out, and when he did, it was to go shopping or to bars in Seattle, which was where we met. So, as far as I was concerned, he was perfect.

  When I heard the car coming up the driveway, and I saw the headlights move across the walls of the living room, I turned out the kitchen lights. I wanted to surprise him, to make our time together fun. I had already decided that once I was living here with him permanently, I would leave notes around the house for him to find. Notes that let him know how much I was thinking about him and how much I wanted him, even if that wasn’t exactly the truth. But I was pretty good at that sort of thing. Giving men what they wanted. Making them feel needed.

  I also decided I was going to learn how to cook all of the foods he had in his kitchen. I was going to find out what his favorite dishes were and I was going to make them for him regularly. And like I said, it wasn’t because I was in love with him or anything. I needed time. I needed to figure out the next step in my plan, and I needed to be here to do that. So I was going to do everything in my power to show Robert how much he needed me here.

  I heard the door open and close and I waited in the dark until Robert entered the kitchen and turned on the light. When the stark glow of fluorescent lights filled the room, I saw the expression he had on his face. It wasn’t one of excitement to see me, like I had hoped.

  “What are you still doing here?”

  I smiled. “I made you some dinner. It’s just pasta, but it smells good. Don’t you think?”

  Robert lowered his head, then crossed over to the kitchen table, the clicking of his shoes against the linoleum tile was almost deafening in the silence of the big, open room. He set a bag on the table. “I’ve already eaten.”

  “That’s okay,” I said lightly. “I’m sure it will be just as good heated up for lunch tomorrow. Which reminds me, I’d love it if you could make a list of things you like to eat. You don’t need to give me the recipes. I can look those up online, and—”

  “Casey, please stop.”

  His tone made my heart sink, but I couldn’t give up. This had to work. It was my only plan. “What do you mean? Stop what?”

  “I thought you understood me this morning. We had a nice time, but it’s over. I gave you money for the ferry and for the bus and I expected you to be gone when I got home. I thought I was being very generous letting you stay after I left.”

  I laughed. “Well, I had a feeling you might change your mind,” I said as I crossed over to the stove and stirred. I frowned when I noticed that the nice dinner I cooked was slowly turning into a solid mass. “I thought we had a really nice time together.”

  “We did, but it’s over, Casey. That’s just the way it is.”

  I turned around. “But you invited me here. You asked me to stay with you.”

  “No, I didn’t. I don’t know where you got that idea. We had a nice time at the bar. I told you about my home. I may have said that you’d like it here, but I didn’t ask you to visit, and I sure as hell didn’t invite you to stay. Then a week later you show up here out of the blue. I let you in, and out of politeness I allowed you to stay a few days, but it’s over. You need to leave now.”

  “That’s not true,” I practically whined. I was starting to feel confused and small, like I did when I was a little girl … and at the hospital. People were always saying one thing when they meant another, and I would end up getting punished for things I didn’t know were wrong. All my life I had been told that I was the one who misunderstood. That I had done something wrong. Or that I had imagined everything. And it was all happening again.

  The thing that was most confusing was, I didn’t actually want to be with Robert. That’s not why I was here at all. But now that he was telling me I had to leave, all those feelings of being used, then thrown away, were flooding through me.

  And not the sexy feelings I had with Brian, either. The horrible feelings I had when I was a girl, and my Dad would come into my room at night. When I had no control and there was no way out. When he would do whatever he wanted, then leave me there in the dark, wishing I had someone to hold me and make me feel better and tell me everything was going to be okay.

  Suddenly I was having a hard time remembering what was real. “But you said you wanted me.” My words came out louder than I had expected, and my voice sounded shrill. I didn’t like this part of me, the part that got overly excited and usually caused the nurses to give me something to calm down. I wanted to be able to calm down on my own, but I couldn’t. I was so tired of being lied to, and manipulated, and tossed aside. “You said you wanted me here, with you!”

  “I may have said that I wanted you, Casey. But that was in the heat of the moment. I never said I wanted you living here in this house. This is my home. My sanctuary. I let you in, and I realize now, that was a mistake. I need you to leave. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

  That last part was like a kick in the stomach. At first I was too stunned to even react, but then I was filled with rage. Rage over all the times men had done this to me. Treated me like a princess one minute, then like garbage the next. “You can’t do this to me! It’s not fair!”

  “Casey, calm down,” Robert said as he put his hands in the air, like that could somehow fix everything.

  “You think you’re so much better than me? Because you own this big house? And you’ve got a bunch of fancy food in your fridge? You’re nothing but a low-down, good-for-nothing player. Just like all the rest.”

  “Casey, please, let’s sit down and talk about this.”

  I was walking toward him, but I wasn’t really aware of anything else that was going on. My mind was so focused on what I wanted to say. I wanted him to understand how he’d made me feel. How much he hurt me. “Do you really think you’re the good guy here? Do you think you’re the one who deserves this place?” I said, looking around. “You don’t deserve shit!”

  “Casey,” Robert said, his voice shaking. “Put the knife down. There is no need for any of this. We can sit down and talk it out. You’re right, I did have a good time with you. You’re a wonderful young lady, and maybe … if we work together—”

  “Shut up! I’ve had enough of your lies! That’s all it’s been, hasn’t it? Lies to get me to do what you wanted me to do! Lies to get me to take off my clothes and suck your goddamned cock! I thought you were different! I thought I could trust you, but you’re just like all the others. No, you’re actually worse because you don’t even see how fucked up you are! You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong at all!”

  “Casey, put down the knife.”

  I glanced to my right, following where Robert’s eyes were fixed. I hadn’t even realized I’d picked the knife up off the counter. I laughed when I saw what he was talking about. “You’re afraid of this?” I asked, staring at the shiny blade for a long moment, then back at Robert. “Don’t be silly. It isn’t anything to be scared of.”

  Without taking my eyes off of his, I turned the
knife toward my left wrist and made a big gash. I knew from the spread of warmth running down my skin that I was bleeding, but I didn’t look down. I didn’t need to. I’d seen blood running down my arm so many times. I knew exactly what it looked like.

  I honestly hadn’t even planned on using the knife on Robert, at least I don’t think I did. Like I said, everything was suddenly so confusing. But when he lurched at me, when he tried to grab the knife out of my hand, I didn’t really have a choice. I was protecting myself. I was making sure that I was being taken care of, because I knew no one else would.

  When I realized Robert wasn’t on my side, I knew I had to take things into my own hands. I had to make sure I could stay on this island, and the best way for me to do that was to stay in this house. It was secluded. And because Robert rarely went out or had anyone over, no one would come looking for him.

  This house was the perfect place for me to stay while I came up with my plan. I had to get a job and start to blend in a little. I had to become part of the community. I had to figure out how to casually run into Fred … or Jerry Greene, which I recently found out was his real name. Because that was the real reason I was here on Liar’s Island, for Jerry Greene.

  Chapter 9

  Jerry

  “What the fuck?” Dave whispered. “Isn’t that the guy?”

  I turned my head and nodded.

  “Then who’s up there?” he asked, gesturing to the floor above us.

  I put my finger up to my mouth, then signaled with my hands for him to stay where he was. I had no idea what the layout of this house was. I was kicking myself for not having circled the perimeter to check all of the windows and doors before we entered, especially the ones on the ground level. But I hadn’t wanted to risk being seen, and now I was paying for it.

  I turned around and crept away from the stairway Dave and I had just come down. There were lots of windows that we could use to escape if we needed to, smaller ones that lined the ceiling since the basement floor was a few feet below ground. But so far I wasn’t seeing another way to get down to the basement from the main floor. Which was good, in a sense, because we didn’t have to worry about someone sneaking up behind us. But not so good if the only way out was past them.