Wall of Silence

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Wall of Silence Page 13

by Gabrielle Goldsby


  “Don’t know.”

  “Marcus, can you get a copy of that coroner’s report over to Stacy? I’ll get it from her somehow.”

  I was supposed to be a detective, and it hadn’t occurred to me that something wasn’t right. There was no reason Smitty would have wrapped this Canniff’s head in a bag. If anything, it would have made decomposition take longer. Even if he had, my fingerprints shouldn’t have been anywhere on it. I hadn’t touched anything. I already knew someone was trying to frame me for a murder I did commit. The question was, why? Why go through the trouble?

  Unless they didn’t know I actually did it . I was shocked out of my thoughts by Marcus’s next words.

  “Oh, one other thing. They know about the files you ordered.”

  “God damn it!”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. When they come in, I’ll photocopy them for you.”

  I thanked him and told him to be careful. As I watched his large graceful frame vanish up the narrow staircase, I felt light-headed with relief and shock. I had been so overwrought with despair and so afraid of going to jail that I hadn’t been reacting like a detective. I was too close to the situation, too afraid of being picked up. Knowing someone was trying to frame me using fake evidence, and I could prove it, I felt better. They had nothing on me or they wouldn’t be doing this.

  I crossed the room and gently touched Riley’s shoulder, amazed she hadn’t stirred while Marcus and I were talking. “I need to get going,” I said, sorry to wake her and talk instantly about leaving. “I have to get out of town. I’m too close to things here. I’m not thinking straight.”

  She nodded sleepily, as if she had known this was coming. “Do you have any idea where you’ll go?”

  “No, not yet. It will be somewhere quiet, though. I’m tired and I’m scared and there’s some shit that’s just not making sense to me right now.” I gave her the short version of what Marcus had told me.

  “You can take my car.”

  “No, I can’t. If I’m spotted in it and they trace it, then your name will pop up. Like I said before, you don’t want to be involved in this.” She didn’t say anything for a minute and I racked my brain. “I can tell this is too much for you. It would be for anyone. I should go now.”

  Damn. See, I flunked this part: deep thoughts and conversations and other shit that makes your heart break. What I wanted to do was hug her and tell her I would be back soon, as if I was just going to the store or something. I almost stumbled as remembered pain hit me with the force of a battering ram. That was how my mother left us. She gave me a hug and my father a kiss on the top of the head and went to the store for OJ or something stupid like that. I remember what she wore like it was yesterday—a yellow dress, with white stockings and white shoes. I remember thinking that it wasn’t Sunday, so why was she all dressed up? After she had been gone for three hours, we even made jokes that she must have had to fly to Florida to pick up the orange juice. I think we knew even then. We got a phone call twenty-four gut-wrenching hours later, saying she was in love and would never be back.

  I couldn’t do that to Riley. I wouldn’t. I felt something for her. I wouldn’t call it love, but I did want more time to spend with her. Maybe this was one of my punishments. At this particular time in my life, I would find someone who made my chest hurt when she was sad, and I would have to walk away without ever knowing what that meant. I mentally shook myself. Maybe one day I would have time to admit my feelings for her, but not today.

  “Foster, wait!” She had that “I have an idea” look on her face. “You could come with me.”

  “Come with you?” I couldn’t help the leap of hope that crashed the walls of my rib cage.

  “Yeah, I know a place where you can rest and maybe figure out what you want to do. It’s secluded and quiet. No one would bother you.”

  In the seconds it probably took me to answer her, hundreds of reasons why I should refuse her offer poured through my head, and only two reasons why I should accept: I didn’t want to leave her, and I didn’t want to be alone. I was ashamed. All of my life I had been telling people that I didn’t need anyone. Going out of my way to push people away, even holding my own father at arm’s length, for fear I would become tied down. But the real truth of the matter was I didn’t want them to leave me. Being left alone and being alone because you choose to be alone are two different things.

  I leaned against the side of the bed and waited. Maybe I wanted a sign or something, but I didn’t get it. All I got was utter quiet. Even Bud had ceased his normal hundred-miles-an-hour evening run.

  “Where would we go?” I asked.

  Wary hopefulness flashed in her eyes. “I was planning on a vacation before I start work. There’s a cabin on the Mendocino coast I go to. It’s very beautiful, and quiet. There are only about four hundred people in the whole town. You can think, or hide, or whatever, but you’ll be safe.”

  “How long were you going to stay?”

  “I don’t start my new job until September. I was going to go do some fishing, maybe read a little.” She shrugged. “Just relax. I had so many courses this last semester that I think I wore myself out.”

  She did look sort of tired. A few months off would do her some good, and maybe a nice secluded place to hide would do me some good, too.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The silence was so loud that I wondered if she already regretted the offer. She got off the bed and before I could think of the right way to let her off the hook, I was swept up into a hug. I mean a real hug, the kind you want when you’re feeling awful and need to be shown that you’re loved.

  “God, sweetheart, you give the best hugs.” I stepped away from her quickly and knew she wasn’t the only one who looked like she’d just swallowed a rather large ice cube. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  And I sounded so damn aroused when I said it, even a straight woman would notice. No more of those hugs, I thought, I might do something crazy like beg her for a repeat of that first kiss we’d shared.

  We both smiled nervously. Riley plucked at the edge of her pink cast like she was about ready to pull the damn thing completely off. So this is sexual tension, huh? Not only did the timing suck, but it was the single most uncomfortable feeling in the world.

  *

  It didn’t take long to get Riley’s meager belongings loaded into the back of her Land Cruiser. She left everything for the owner of the theater except her clothes, computer, boxes of comics, and weights.

  “Wow, this guy must be a real good friend. You’re basically handing him a fully furnished, newly remodeled apartment,” I told her. I was really being nosy. I wanted to know how close she was to this “friend.”

  Riley shrugged. “Well, that’s how it is.”

  The fact that she was a good friend came as no surprise. The way she was going out of her way for me told me what kind of person she was. But I think I wanted to believe that maybe I was different. I said, “I have something to show you.”

  I had decided to take the time to make myself a better disguise than Riley’s cap and sunglasses. I would probably continue to wear the sunglasses, but the cap just made me look suspicious and I didn’t want to call any more attention to myself than I already had.

  As I removed the cap, the irrational thought, I hope she likes it, floated through my mind.

  Riley’s eyes went straight to my hair and she blushed beet red. I wondered why she was the one blushing. I was the one having to stand still while she stared at me like that. “You don’t like it?” I drew my hand through my hair. “I should have let you help.”

  “No, I mean, yes, I like it. It suits you.” Riley lifted her plaster-encased hand. She stopped just short of touching my hair, and I forced myself not to sigh in disappointment.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Different. I’ve had long hair all my life. I never really thought of cutting it but…” I rubbed my hand along the back of my neck. “I don�
�t know. I guess I sort of like it. It feels nice not to have so much back there. I sort of like the blond color, too. Or do you think it’s too much? I’m sort of pale.”

  Riley started picking at the space between her cast and her thumb joint. I wondered if those assholes at the hospital had put it on too tightly. “I think you look really good.”

  “Thanks.” What else was there to say?

  “If you get the trash bag we can go, all right?” She scooped up Bud and, without a second glance, walked out of the place that had been her home for months.

  I know she would have left there eventually, but I couldn’t help feeling that I was taking advantage of her. I took one final look into the trash bag. The long, red hair I’d always intended to get cut and styled, but never did, now lay in a pile of garbage. The short, newly dyed blond tresses seemed to want to stand out on my head in every direction. I frowned at myself in the bathroom mirror as I checked for anything left behind. I felt weird. Different. The fear was still there, lurking just out of reach, but now there was that childlike excitement that came with road trips and new adventures.

  I walked out of the apartment and shut the door. I didn’t look back, either.

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley’s resting place, as she called it, was in a town called Albion, located a few miles outside of Mendocino. We arrived at three in the morning in the middle of an electrical storm. She had thought it would be better if we took Highway 1 all the way. The route was scenic and we were less likely to encounter any police. Instead we took 101, after I convinced her the trip would be safer and faster. What I didn’t tell her was that on my way to start a new life, I couldn’t bear to pass the section of road where Smitty had ended his; it was too anticlimactic, too clichéd, and too damned painful.

  I leaned forward and tried to see through the sheeting water and the black wiper blades that appeared and then disappeared. Riley had told me to make a right turn. I couldn’t see the road, let alone a driveway.

  “Turn or you’re going to miss it,” she reiterated.

  I whipped the wheel around and veered blindly into an obscure side road. Our headlights illuminated a sign that warned, “Private. Keep out.” I shivered, already missing the end of a warm Southern California summer. Sitting in the dark car, squinting through the sleeting rain on the windshield at the unfriendly sign made it hard to believe this place had ever been warm.

  “Now let’s hope the key is where Dani said it would be,” Riley said as I jerked to a halt.

  I assumed “Dani” was the friend she’d mentioned a few times when we got stranded in crawling traffic on my idea of the smart route to take. They knew each other as kids. They had stayed close. I rejoiced to know that their bonding included Riley playing the role of model for a comic book series Dani authored.

  Riley ran out into the rain, groped around in some bushes, then jogged back in front of the headlights and wrestled the gate open.

  I drove carefully through and waited for her to close it. She jumped into the car and the dome light briefly illuminated her face. She was grinning happily, not at all perturbed with the fact that she was drenched. Something heavy welled up in my throat and sat there as if to say: If you don’t say it, I will.

  Riley guided me along a fairly smooth dirt road to a gravel path and I cut the engine as we reached a low-slung building that was almost completely obscured by trees. The sound of the engine cooling and the rain hitting the windshield made our location seem even more solitary. I opened my door and waited for her to come around to the front of the truck. I could barely see as she led me around the building and to a door.

  “Watch your step.” A warm hand briefly touched the middle of my back.

  Chills shot through my body. I carefully stepped up onto a deck and waited as she fumbled with the key. I could hear the ocean, and to my right, the low hum of some type of generator. Riley finally got the door open and we both stumbled into a dark interior. If possible, it was even colder inside than out.

  Riley found the light switch and I had my first view of the cabin. The Ritz it was not, but this was far from the shanty I’d been expecting. Hardwood floors throughout, and double doors that led out to a deck I could just make out as I squinted through the dark window. A built-in couch was located in front of the double doors, and to the left was a nice-sized fireplace. The kitchen was functional, with a small table that seated two, a sink, and a dishwasher.

  “It’s not much.” She seemed embarrassed.

  “Are you kidding? This is great.”

  I was rewarded with a large grin. “I helped build it. Dani’s the one who got me into doing house renovation stuff.”

  Dani again. Man, I wished I knew what was up with Riley and this Dani. Whoever she was, I didn’t think I liked her much. And this was her cabin, a fact Riley had only clarified when we were two hundred miles out of L.A. “You sure your friend isn’t going to mind us using her place?”

  “I called her, remember? She isn’t going to need it anytime soon.”

  “Well, you guys did a great job fixing it up. You want to show me the rest?”

  “Sure.” Riley embarked on an enthusiastic tour.

  The bathroom was decent and even featured a shower with three spigots, perfect for environmentally conscious friends who wanted to share. I wondered if she and Dani had tested that feature out. A small window that opened into the shower was the only ventilation. Riley explained that Dani had put in glass blocks instead of just a regular wall for light.

  “But couldn’t someone see you? If they were out on the deck, I mean?”

  “Nope, we checked. Couldn’t see a thing.”

  Aggravated by her response, I said bitchily, “Boy, you guys sure do have a lot of steps in this place.” We were heading down into what was obviously the bedroom. Though sparsely furnished, it did have two end tables and two chairs with a bureau and an electric heater. The king-sized bed was the main feature of the room. It stood nearly four and a half feet off the floor.

  “Damn! That’s a big bed.”

  Riley chuckled. “You should see Dani trying to climb into the thing. She’s shorter than you are.”

  Okay, that’s it! “Hey, Riley, is Dani married?”

  “Dani? Noooo.” She got this far-off look on her face for a minute. I stood there not knowing whether to question her further or let it go. I couldn’t help but think that this place was built as a love nest. I wondered if it was Dani and Riley’s love nest. That huge bed was made for lovers. The thought of that hurt more than the idea of Riley being straight.

  Riley mistook the reason for my shiver of misery. “You’re cold. I’ll start the fireplaces.” She indicated a drawer. “Why don’t you get changed and I’ll get a fire going. You’ll find some spare clothes in there. Help yourself.”

  My damp clothing clung to every part of my skin. As soon as she’d left the room, I removed everything and pulled on warm sweats and dry socks. I really needed a shower, but I was too cold to think of staying undressed for the minutes it would require. I took a step out of the bedroom door, intending to join Riley, and hovered, transfixed by the sight of her in front of the fireplace with her back to me.

  Arousal flooded me as I watched her lift her arms and slide a dry T-shirt over her head. From the sensuous play of muscles in her shoulders to the arch of her back and the narrow waist I wanted to hold, she was beautiful. I wanted to say something, but words seemed like a feeble disguise for my thoughts.

  She must have sensed me standing there because she turned abruptly and smiled. “You look comfy.”

  I glanced down at the gray Army sweatshirt that was drowning me and the sweats that fit better, but were still slightly too big. “Yeah, they are pretty warm. Are they Dani’s?”

  She nodded. “Oh, I brought Bud in.” She pointed to a corner of the room where the orange pet condo sat. “I didn’t bother with the bags. We can get them when it’s light.”

  I wanted to know about our sleeping arrangements, but
broaching the subject felt awkward. I wasn’t usually so feeble. Riley seemed to sense my discomfort. “What’s wrong, Foster? Don’t you like it here?”

  “What? No, it’s not that. This place is wonderful!” I could see that she didn’t believe me, so I decided that I would come clean with her, at least partially. “I guess I thought that since this was your place with Dani, that you might want her here with you instead, and resent that I’m here. Oh, hell, I don’t know what I mean.”

  I slumped down on a comfortable if not eye-pleasing couch and stared blindly out the darkened double glass doors. The cushions moved as Riley sat down next to me, with her hands clasped in front of her and her head slightly bowed.

  “Dani and I have never stayed here together, other than when we were working. Not even one night. I’ve never stayed here with anyone.”

  I felt like a heel. Riley didn’t deserve my petty jealousies, and she certainly didn’t need to explain herself to me. The fact that she was doing exactly that got me thinking. She hadn’t given me the kind of strange look a straight woman might have after hearing a weird comment about her and a female friend. When I really thought about it, she’d never seemed straight to me. I had based my assumption on Stacy’s guesswork and the simple fact that she’d overheard Riley talking to a guy called “Brad.” Like talking to a man was any indication. Maybe it had just been easier for me to believe Riley wasn’t a lesbian. I didn’t have to do anything about attraction to a woman if she was straight.

  Heat started at my forehead and flooded down my face and neck. Now, I do not blush. Fair skin or no, blushing is for kids and people who haven’t seen crack babies crawling over their mother’s dead corpses, and pimps who have beat the shit out of pregnant hookers. I knew I was keeping her waiting for a sensible reply. The best I could offer was a garbled apology.

 

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