Slumbered to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  Unknowingly, he had already scored points with Abby for discussing the weather. She believed in inane talking points when conversing with strangers and was not a fan of laying one’s personal drama on the laundry line for all to see. Reality television was responsible for the decline of civilization, or so Abby believed.

  “Ben White, this is my partner and good friend, Abby Atwood.”

  “Ms. Atwood,” Ben said. He took her hand in an old-fashioned, courtly manner with her fingers tipped downward. He didn’t go so far as to kiss it, but he did a sort of bow that no doubt won more points with Abby’s old-Virginia style of proper etiquette.

  “Mr. White, please call me Abby. I may be old, but I can be informal as today’s kids.”

  She likes him, Sadie thought. Contrary to her words, she never let anyone she didn’t like call her less than Ms. Atwood.

  “Abby, I’m pleased to meet you. Sometime I would love to talk to you about my house. I’ve been trying to renovate it to historic standards, but I can’t get the trim color right. Your house is perfect and can serve as my model.”

  “I would be happy to talk architecture sometime,” Abby said. “Perhaps when this mess is cleared up, we can have coffee.”

  “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that,” Ben said with a smile. “Let’s move into the living room, shall we?”

  Sadie felt suddenly like they were characters in a play. Everything was so formal and precise. They moved into the living room. Ben had tea set up on a tray. Before she could roll her eyes at the too-perfect arrangement, she noticed that his hands shook as he poured them each a cup. Maybe he wasn’t as cool and self-contained as he wanted them to believe. He sat and cleared his throat.

  “What did you find out?”

  The slight tremor in his tone was heartrending. His life hung in the balance, and he was understandably nervous.

  “There are three missing people,” Sadie began.

  His eyes squeezed shut. He took a steadying breath. “Go on,” he urged. His voice was husky. He sipped his tea.

  “There’s a girl, she’s fifteen. Her name is Alana. Her mother thinks she may have run off with her boyfriend, although the police interviewed him and he says he hasn’t seen her since she disappeared. Here’s her picture.”

  He set his cup on the saucer with trembling fingers and reached out to take the picture. “She’s a pretty girl, but she doesn’t look familiar. Who else?”

  “Another woman, this one is about my age. Her name is Erin Jones, or at least that’s what we think it is. Her boss reported her missing, but when the police ran her info, they came up empty.”

  He took the picture of Erin and studied it. “She doesn’t look familiar, either. Does she have a boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know,” Sadie drawled.

  “I’m trying to think of any possible connection. The only one I can think of is that I did a speed dating session last spring. But if she has a boyfriend, then she probably wouldn’t have been one of the women I met. There were so many that night; I can’t remember their names or faces.” He set the picture aside with a faint blush. “Sadie, did you ever think that maybe if I did something, it was totally random? Maybe I walked in my sleep, met up with one of these women and…the one is just a girl, she’s a baby, what if I…” His hand swept wearily over his face, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Who else is left?”

  “A man this time. His name is Edmond Hankins.”

  He froze, his eyes widening in surprise. “Do you have a picture?”

  She handed him the picture. He stared hard at it, bringing it to his face and away again. Sadie’s stomach pitched and tightened. Did he remember something? Had he killed the man? “What is it?” she asked when she could take it no longer.

  “Ed and I were in the same ranger unit in the army. We weren’t friends, but I definitely remember him. That’s a pretty odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Sadie thought it was a monumental coincidence. Army units came from all over the country. What were the chances that two men from the same elite ranger unit ended up in the same town? And now one of those men was missing and another thought he had killed someone. “Ben, please don’t take offense at this question, but were you given any drugs in the army? Did they do experiments on you?”

  He chuckled, but the sound was more anxious than amused. “No, nothing like that. It was your everyday run-of-the-mill unit. There’s nothing that happened in the army that would be responsible for what I’m going through now, nothing but regular experiences that got to me more than they should have.” He tapped the picture. He hadn’t taken his eyes off it since she gave it to him. “Do you mind if I keep these records? I would like to read through them and see if anything triggers.”

  “Is it okay if we make copies? I want to reread some things myself. I’ve only done a preliminary run through. If I’m going to follow up and see what develops, then I need to become more familiar. I can have some copies made and drop them off tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good,” he agreed. “Good being a relative term when my life hangs in the balance.”

  “We’re going to get this figured out, Ben,” Sadie promised.

  “It feels good to simply have a starting place,” he said. “I guess I can look on the bright side: at least we don’t live in a booming metropolis where dozens of people go missing at a time. Three seems like a low number until I consider that I might have had something to do with any of them. Then one is way, way too much.”

  “I know,” Sadie said. She reached out and patted his arm. He gave her a weak smile.

  Abby cleared her throat. Whether it was intended as a signal or not, Sadie took it as one and stood. “I’m going to start fresh tomorrow and widen the net. That means I’ll be talking to your neighbors and neighbors of the missing people. I’ll probably flash your picture if I feel I can do it without bringing any trouble on your head.”

  “Do whatever you need to do to get this thing cleared up,” Ben said. He walked them to the door and remained leaning in the doorway as they walked to the car. Sadie waited to speak until they were out of the long driveway.

  “What do you think of him?”

  “I don’t know,” Abby said. She sounded perplexed and a little put out. “I don’t remember a time when I’ve had such a hard time reading someone. At times, he was debonair and charming, almost like he was giddy over our presence. And then he would switch to anxious and upset with lightning speed.”

  “Maybe that’s normal under the circumstances. He’s been under pressure, and he hasn’t been sleeping well.”

  “Or maybe he’s insane,” Abby said. “He’s very nice, his house is very nice, he’s very handsome. I feel like I should like him, like I should approve, but there’s something holding me back, and I don’t know what it is.”

  “Maybe I’ll talk to Gideon. He has a lot of experience with people under pressure. Maybe Ben’s mood swings are par for the course.”

  “If anyone knows mood swings, it’s your father,” Abby agreed. “Can you drop me at Sukie’s house? It’s bridge night, and we’re breaking in a new member since Eliza died.”

  “Of course,” Sadie said. “What time should I pick you up?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch a ride with one of the ladies. These things tend to run late, and I don’t want to wake you.”

  The first time Abby had said such a thing, Sadie had laughed. Then Abby crept in at two in the morning, and Sadie stopped laughing. She had no idea what went on at those bridge events, but it must be epic. “Have fun,” she called as Abby slid from the car and tossed her a wave.

  She decided to check on Gideon before she settled in for the night. Mary’s car was in the drive, but the sight of the other woman looking so cozy and relaxed in Gideon’s living room was still a surprise. Gideon was lying in the same place Sadie had left him, and Mary was sitting in the recliner beside his head, talking and laughing as they ate supper. Despite having lived in the house for much of her li
fe, Sadie had never felt as happy or comfortable as Mary looked. “How’s the patient?” Sadie said because she knew it would annoy Gideon to be referred to as a patient.

  “My hearing still works,” Gideon said. “And your muffler is shot.”

  “I’ll get right on that as soon as I change into my overalls, Dad. How’s he doing, Mary?”

  “He’s fine,” Gideon answered. “I’ve slept like an invalid and watched enough mindless television to kill years’ worth of brain cells.”

  “That sounds like my dream day,” Sadie said.

  “What did you do today, Sadie?” Mary asked.

  “I had some things waxed, touched up my roots—the usual.”

  Gideon snorted. “Figures,” he muttered.

  “Gideon, she’s teasing,” Mary said. “Sadie’s a natural blond. Why would she have her roots done?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand woman stuff. All I know is that she spends too much time making herself look good.”

  “She’s twenty eight years old and in the prime of her beauty. If I looked as good as Sadie, I would only leave the bathroom to find another mirror and stare at myself some more.”

  Sadie eased out of the house so they could bicker about her some more. She appreciated having Mary on her side, but it was hard to see another woman she cared about arguing with Gideon over her. At home, Luke had left a note on the counter. He would be spending the evening at the library. Having the house to herself was such a rare treat that she decided to take a bath in the giant claw-footed tub in Luke’s bathroom.

  While the water ran, she retrieved clothes and a novel from her room. Her brain was on overload thinking about Ben and his case. What did it mean that he and Ed Hankins were in the same ranger unit? She had no idea, and she needed to stop thinking about it for a while. Sometimes Sadie thought best when she didn’t think at all; sending information to her subconscious was often the best solution for working out a problem. She double-checked the doors, stripped, and sank into the tub. It was so deep that she could stretch out completely and the water came all the way up to her chin.

  Ever since she was a little girl, she had admired the tub. The whole house, really. Once a month or so, Abby had invited Sadie over for a tea party, and they had been a highlight of Sadie’s childhood. Abby had used real china, real tea, and real cucumber sandwiches. Sadie hadn’t even liked cucumbers, yet she had wolfed down the elegant sandwiches at Abby’s house. Then she would find an excuse to wash her hands in the big bathroom. She would stare longingly at the giant tub as she imagined taking a bath in it. At the time, she had loved it because she could fit all her toys in it at once. Now she loved it because she could fit her whole self in it. Even though she was petite, most baths weren’t made for soaking the way this one was.

  There was something so soothing about a good soak. Sadie’s bathroom was equipped with a modern shower. It was a nice shower, but still—nothing compared to the tub. She supposed she could ask Luke if he would let her use it more, but it felt odd, like she was infringing on his turf, especially since he was the legal owner of the house now. Abby never had the paperwork transferred back to her name. We’ll have to do it again when I die. We might as well leave it, she had said, and Luke agreed. Sadie felt welcome in the house as long as Abby was still living. After that…well, she would cross that depressing bridge when the time came.

  She was so relaxed and enmeshed in her thoughts that it took her a while to notice the sound. There was a thump and a scratch, as if a cat were slinking the halls. All of a sudden, Sadie desperately wished they owned a cat on which to blame the foreboding sound. “Luke,” she called, but her voice came out as little more than a whisper. “Luke,” she tried, a little louder. “Is that you?” This time the word carried no farther than the edge of the bathtub, and Sadie realized that if it wasn’t Luke, she didn’t want to alert whoever it was to her presence. As the moments ticked, she became more and more convinced that the sound wasn’t a product of her overactive imagination. Worse still, it was drawing closer.

  She stepped out of the tub and tied the towel around herself before cracking the door that led into the hallway. She saw nothing, and the sound was fainter. Tiptoeing to the other door, the one that led to Luke’s room, she pressed her ear to the door. The sound was louder. Someone was definitely in Luke’s room. Please let it be Luke, please let it be Luke, she silently pled as she slowly cranked the door handle and craned her neck to see into the interior of the room. It was dark. Drat Luke and his stupid blackout curtains. The man had never been able to sleep with even the slightest light in a room. Though she couldn’t see into the room, whoever was in the room could no doubt see her clearly because of the bathroom illumination. She closed the door, turned off the light, and opened the door again.

  This time she stepped all the way in and pressed her back flat against the reassuring solidity of the heavy oak door. The sound was coming from the closet. Inch by inch, she forced herself away from the door and toward the sound. Not until she reached the closet and put her hand on that door did she realize she had no idea what she was doing. Why didn’t I get out of the house? She had just become the person she loathed in every horror movie, the one who rushes headlong into danger for no rational reason. She would leave the house and go to Gideon. He would call one of his cop friends and have them check the house.

  She took a step back and ran into a stack of books, knocking them haphazardly to the floor. Sadie’s eyes flew to the closet door in dread. It opened, a man stepped into view, and she screamed as loud as anyone who had ever been in a horror movie.

  Chapter 9

  He put his hands on her. She fought him off. She was just about to bring her knee up for a blow when his voice finally registered.

  “Sadie, it’s me, it’s Hal. Calm down.”

  “Hal?” she said. She couldn’t see him and her brain was fogged with fear and adrenaline.

  “Yes, it’s Hal. Please don’t kill me. That whole ‘physician heal thyself’ thing doesn’t work if I’m dead.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for Luke’s racquetball equipment. He said I could borrow it.”

  “Wait, if you’re the real Hal, then you would know that Luke has never played racquetball in his life,” she said.

  “Ah, yes, but the real Hal also knows that Luke bought all the equipment to impress a girl in college.”

  “Why didn’t you turn on the light?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t find it.”

  “Oh, I forgot Luke has the overhead worked to his bedside lamp so he won’t have to get out of bed to turn off the light.”

  “What is with the total darkness in here? I feel the sudden urge to use echolocation and flap my wings,” Hal said.

  Sadie found her way to the bed and turned on the lamp, bathing the room in its soft glow. Hal immediately turned away and shaded his eyes with his hand.

  “Uh, Sadie, you’re wearing a towel.”

  Sadie looked down to make sure all her parts were covered. They were. “What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is that you’re wearing a towel.”

  “You’re a doctor. I thought you guys saw naked women all the time.”

  “That’s propaganda they feed to potential doctors at the recruiting seminars. Believe me when I tell you that naked women are still a novelty to me.”

  “I’m not naked,” Sadie argued.

  “Yeah, well, if you’re not wearing chainmail under that towel, then you’re as close as it comes for me. Could you maybe go put some clothes on?”

  “Okay, I’ll just drop this towel right here and step into the bathroom.”

  He spun to look at her.

  “Gotcha. Men are so easy.”

  “And women are so…so…brain fogged at renewed sight of towel. What were we saying?”

  “Nothing. I’ll go change. It’s like you and Luke have never been near the female of the species before.” She stepped into the bathroom and clos
ed the door. The bed creaked, so she assumed Hal sat on it.

  “Sweets, imagine if you will our college apartment filled with two scientists, duplicate sets of every Star Trek and Star Wars movie ever made, and you will solve the perplexing riddle.”

  “But, Hal, nerds are very in vogue right now.”

  “Oh, yeah, Bill Gates beats the supermodels off with a stick. Stephen Hawking, too. Guy’s a babe magnet.”

  “Hal, you are adorable. Don’t tell me you don’t do pretty well for yourself.” He had a perpetually boyish look with strawberry blond hair, big brown eyes, and freckles on his nose. And he was charming. Sadie didn’t buy his self-deprecating humor for a minute. Maybe he didn’t have much time to date right now, but she had no doubts that when the time came, Hal really would have to beat the women away with a stick. She finished dressing and opened the door. He was stretched out sideways on Luke’s bed. He patted the spot beside him, and she hopped up, mimicking his pose.