In the early weeks of the separation, he and Pete had argued about Larissa’s late-night calls for help. Pete thought his friend shouldn’t let her manipulate him, but Nick felt his responsibility to Nettie trumped any temporary victory Larissa might achieve by thinking he was at her beck and call.
Pete dug his phone from his pocket, but the crash of the apartment building’s outside door bouncing against a wall caused both men to pivot toward the sound. Gary Lamont, Larissa’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, stumbled across the threshold.
“You have no business here, you…you…” Gary, wiry and red-faced, pulled back when he saw Pete reach for his off-duty gun. He raised his hands in front of him, palms up. “Wait. I didn’t realize…Oh. My. God. Look at that mess.” Gary strained to see past the men, recoiling in horror at the scene in Larissa’s apartment. His gaze shifted between Nick and Pete and back again. “What have you done? Divorce wasn’t enough for you?”
“What are you doing here, Lamont?” The sight of the man who had replaced him in Larissa’s bed broke Nick’s tenuous control over the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface of his emotions. He tried not to notice the gleam of Gary’s white muscle shirt against his deep tan, no doubt the result of spending long summer days on Nick’s boat with Nick’s wife. He clenched his fists so tightly he thought the bite of nails in his palms would draw blood.
Gary sidled past Nick in an attempt to appeal to Pete.
“Officer Marquardt, I saw his car in the parking lot. I came to protect Larissa—she’s scared of him, you know. She wanted me to be here, to protect her. Oh god, I’m too late. Don’t tell me I’m too late.”
Listening to the sniveling idiot plying Pete with lies infuriated Nick. All of his frustrations of the past six months, of learning that Larissa was having an affair, of learning how to be a single father, of navigating through the divorce process alone, came to a head. In a flash, he crossed the hall and slammed Lamont against the wall. Nick cocked an arm back and let his fist fly, stopping a fraction of an inch shy of Lamont’s deathly pale face. The smaller man’s eyes rolled wildly as Nick leaned close. “Stay the hell out of my life.”
Nick felt Pete’s hands on his shoulders, pulling him away. Gary scrambled backward, tripped, then righted himself and, casting one final look of disgust over his shoulder, fled toward the exit. He didn’t get far.
“Not so fast, Lamont.” The authority in Pete’s voice stopped the man in his tracks. “I’m going to need you to stay right here while I sort out what happened.”
Pete released his hold on Nick, pushing him toward one wall and gesturing for Gary to sit on a bench at the far end of the hall. Nick sagged against the wall, struggling to control his anger. “What the hell, Pete?”
Pete glanced back through the open door of Larissa’s apartment. “That stain on the rug could be blood,” he said, deep worry lines creasing his face.
“She probably cut herself making dinner for him.” Nick couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. Larissa stopped cooking for him and Nettie long before he suspected there was a Gary in the picture.
“Yeah, I know. But I have to call it in.”
Nick sank into a crouch, bracing his back against the wall and dangling his clasped hands between his legs. He listened to Pete describe the situation to the sergeant on duty and request that officers be dispatched to the scene. Nick dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to make sense of the evening and wondering how much he should tell Pete about his last few meetings with Larissa. Gradually, he became aware that Pete had ended his call and now stood watching him speculatively.
Nick cleared his throat. “Larissa was supposed to pick Nettie up from school yesterday,” he said.
“Didn’t show?” Pete asked.
“Nope. No calls, no message. Nettie’s teacher called me ten minutes after school closed. Poor kid. She’s only five, but she knows her mother isn’t like other moms.”
Pete grunted. He had never liked Larissa, and Nick’s relationship with her was one of the few things the friends had ever fought about.
“I know Larissa’s a nutcase. I told you that before you married her. But it sure looks like whatever happened here wasn’t her idea,” he said.
“What are you thinking?” Nick asked.
Pete hesitated before answering, choosing his words carefully. “Her car is still out in the lot. There’s blood in her apartment, which is thoroughly trashed. Did she tell you she called us out two nights ago? Said someone was trying to break in.”
Nick shook his head. “She didn’t say anything to me.”
“She said a neighbor saw someone who looked a lot like you running away.”
“What are you saying, Pete?”
“Where were you Sunday evening?”
“Christ, Pete! My every waking moment is spent working or taking care of Nettie.”
“Is that what you were doing two nights ago?”
“Of course.” Nick stopped. Actually, Nettie had attended a friend’s birthday party Sunday. Nick had spent an hour and a half of unexpected free time struggling to complete the paperwork for his divorce. Larissa’s betrayal cut deep, and making a list of property they had accumulated together rubbed salt in the wound.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Pete asked. “I can’t help if you’re not straight with me.”
Nick rose and paced to the front door, where he could watch traffic fly by. Larissa had chosen an apartment on one of the busiest streets in town, a location totally unsuited for children.
“I told Larissa last week that I planned to seek full custody of Nettie, to have her declared an unfit mother,” he said.
For the first time in the twenty years they had known each other, Nick couldn’t read Pete’s face. “You don’t really think I would hurt Larissa,” he said.
“I’ve never seen you so angry,” Pete said. “You’ve been pissed for months, and that thing with Lamont just now? What was that?”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck, a rising tide of conflicting emotions threatening to override his self-control. “What do you want me to say, Pete? Yes, I’m angry. Yes, it hurts like hell every time I see that idiot my wife is sleeping with. Yes, I want to get even with Larissa for the pain she’s caused not just me, but our daughter. But no, Pete, whatever happened here, I had nothing to do with it.”
He searched his friend’s face for understanding, but he found doubt. Pete’s suspicions cut almost as deep as Larissa’s cheating.
“Look, you know Nettie’s better off with me. You know I can provide a more stable home—both physically and emotionally. You weren’t even surprised when Larissa walked out.”
“This is beyond divorce and a custody dispute, Nick. I’m just wondering why you called me instead of 911. I’m your friend, but I’m also a cop and this is a possible crime scene. You called me, and I have to investigate.”
A black cloud enveloped Nick, deadening the rest of Pete’s words and sucking the air from the room. “You know what, Pete? I’m sick of Larissa’s games. She begged me to come over here tonight, just so I could find this. You investigate all you want. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. You can help me, or you can get the hell out of my way.”
“I can’t let you leave,” Pete said, lunging for Nick as he pushed open the door.
“Don’t you dare let him go! Don’t let him get away with this!”
The screech from the end of the hall caught both men by surprise. Gary, forgotten in the heat of the argument, leaped off the bench and ran toward Nick with fists raised. Pete stepped between the two, catching Gary by one wrist and twisting his arm behind his back. As Pete pinned Gary to the floor, Nick slipped out the door and ran to his car.
* * * *
The needle on Nick’s speedometer flirted with 80 as he flew down Suicide Hill on the back side of Jane’s Lake. Nick drove these roads often when he felt troubled, especially at night. In high school, the rush of wind through open windows as his car raced over hills and around
blind curves felt daring and exhilarating. Later, the solitary trips gave him the space he needed to think through problems. In the months leading up to Larissa’s departure, when he only suspected that she was having an affair, he came here regularly. After every fight, every accusation and counter-accusation. But since Larissa moved out, Nick rarely made the drive. Nettie needed an adult she could count on. He hadn’t lied to Pete when he said he spent every waking moment caring for his daughter.
He pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine, hands shaking from an unfamiliar combination of fury and fear. Larissa’s disappearance with Nettie had to be punishment for his decision to seek sole custody of their daughter. He couldn’t allow himself to think otherwise. So working from that premise, what was her plan? Where would she go and why?
Chorus frogs provided background music as Nick replayed his last conversation with Larissa, hoping to find clues to what was going on in her head.
“Remember the day Nettie was born?” he had asked.
“God, yes. How could I forget?” Larissa shuddered, her face twisted in disgust.
“I knew at that moment, that first time I took our daughter in my arms, that you would be a terrible mother.”
Larissa laughed.
“You’ve never wanted to be her mother, Larissa. To you, she’s just another accessory, like diamond earrings and gold bracelets. You use her like you use me, to show the world a picture of a perfect family. You’re twisted, Larissa.”
“Do you have a point, Nick? Gary’s waiting for me. I’m taking the boat out.”
“You can have the boat,” he said, his anger making him reckless. “But I’ll make sure you don’t get Nettie. She deserves so much better than you for a mother.”
Larissa’s eyes had sparked with a maliciousness he had rarely seen, but she had left without saying another word. Thinking about it now, Nick knew where he would find answers.
The wind whistling through the open car windows carried the dank smells of soggy, rotting vegetation as Nick’s car plunged through the valley at the bottom of the hill and over the bridge that crossed one of the lake’s smaller arms. He slowed as he rounded the north side of the lake, then slowed more to take the turn toward the marina where he kept his boat.
It was dark and quiet as Nick parked and made his way along the dock to his boat slip. By tomorrow, the weekend partiers would be gathering, year-round Christmas lights would sparkle from many slips and the smells of grilling hamburgers and spilled beer would fill the air as laughter echoed across the lake. But tonight, Nick was alone in a stillness that clung to the marina like a dense fog.
He stepped aboard his boat and fumbled in the dark galley until he found a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Back on deck, he poured a generous amount and sat back to wait.
Half an hour later, he tensed as he heard quiet steps on the dock. Not moving, he waited until the steps drew even with his boat and paused.
“You might as well come aboard,” he said.
Larissa sank onto the seat opposite him and lit a cigarette.
“You’re so damned predictable, Nick.”
So are you, he thought.
“What do you want, Larissa?”
Starlight reflected in her eyes. How many nights had Nick found the romance in moments like this? Now, he just felt cold.
“I wanted a grown-up husband, Nick. A grown-up with a real job, not a bartender with delusions of becoming a garage band rock star. I wanted a nice house and nice clothes. I wanted people to see us and want to be us.”
She moved next to him, placing one hand on his knee. He suppressed a shiver of revulsion. “But you didn’t care about what I wanted. And now, you want a divorce? And you’re calling me unfit? Do you know how that makes me look?”
Nick shook his head. “It’s always about appearances, isn’t it? How can you do this to Nettie?”
Larissa lit another cigarette and remained quiet.
“Gary thinks you’re dead, you know.”
It was hard to tell in the dark, but Nick thought he could feel her smile.
“Gary isn’t very smart. He believes what I want him to believe.”
“So what’s your plan? You’re not dead. Pete…”
“Pete. Pete can be manipulated. He’s even more stupid than you.”
“Your problem, Larissa, is you’ve always thought you were the smartest person in the room. But you’re delusional. What do you think’s going to happen? You’ll disappear, start a new life, while everyone thinks you’re dead? I’ll rot in prison for a murder I didn’t commit?”
“That’s as good a plan as any, I suppose.”
“What about Nettie? Where does she fit in your plan? Where is she now?”
Larissa flicked her cigarette into the lake, watching the glowing end until it disappeared in a soft puff when it reached the water.
“I’m quite sure my parents will be delighted to raise Nettie. They’ve been obsessed with her since she was born. In fact, she’s with them now.”
If the situation weren’t so ludicrous, Nick would have admired her attention to detail.
“You thought of everything.”
“Right down to you seeking solace on this boat. The question now is, how does this end?”
Larissa took the glass from his hands and twirled it between her perfectly manicured nails. The nearly full moon cleared the horizon and cast a pale glow across the lake.
“I have two thoughts, actually.” She raised the glass to her lips and slowly sipped the fiery liquid. “Thought one: I walk away now, begin a new life somewhere warm. By morning, Pete will have enough evidence to arrest you for my murder.”
Nick shook his head. “Never going to happen.”
By the light of the moon, Nick saw her nod and smile. She dipped a long index finger into the whiskey, then touched it to her lower lip as if she were freshening her lip gloss. She tapped the glass. “Yes, too many variables out of my control. So that leaves thought two.”
She put the glass down and moved even closer. One hand sliding up his thigh as she put her lips to his ear. “Thought two: You disappear. You sneak out of town under cover of darkness and no one ever sees you again. A clear sign of your guilt.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was afraid you’d feel that way. But I’ve planned for that, too.”
A slender, very sharp knife glinted in Larissa’s right hand, reflecting the moon as she moved with lightning quickness to place the flat edge along his throat. Her left hand remained on his thigh.
Nick held his breath, fought the urge to swallow.
The knife rested dangerously close to his carotid artery. Larissa had him off-balance, and the chance of being able to overpower her quickly was small. He closed his eyes and thought of Nettie. He couldn’t let her grow up thinking he had killed her mother and abandoned her. His only hope was to lead Larissa to outsmart herself.
As if sensing his thoughts, Larissa drew back slightly, at the same time flicking the knife against his earlobe. Nick felt a sting, then the warm stickiness of blood dripping on his shoulder.
“Now, now. Don’t get any ideas. Bravado now will only make this more painful.”
Nick took advantage of the extra space between them to ease himself into a better position.
“You’re the one who’s predictable, Larissa. So sure you’re smarter than everyone else. Right now, Pete is retrieving the nanny cam I planted in your apartment. He’ll see you overturning your own furniture, deliberately cutting yourself.” Nick gestured at the bandage on her left wrist. “He’ll see you leave—alive. He’s not stupid, Larissa. He’ll find you.”
She laughed again, a tense, strained laugh, unsure whether to believe him. Nick shifted his weight and edged his left arm up toward his lap, steeling himself to take advantage of any opportunity to save himself.
“But you’ll be just as dead, Nick. And I don’t share your belief that Pete has the wits to catch me.”
She brought up her
knife hand quickly, but this time Nick was ready. He ducked to the left at the same time as he swept his right arm up to deflect her blow. The knife glanced off Nick’s shoulder. Larissa struggled to regain her advantage, but Nick’s grip crushed her wrist against the boat’s railing. She was strong—and crazy, a deadly combination—but Nick was stronger. Images of Nettie flashed through his thoughts and he renewed his efforts to disarm Larissa. She twisted and nearly freed herself, but Nick used his hundred-pound advantage to immobilize her. He slammed her hand against the rail until she lost her grip on the knife. It fell harmlessly into the shallow water below, and Larissa stopped struggling altogether. Nick groped with one hand for the rope stored among the fishing poles and nets under the boat’s seat. He pulled one end free and looped it around Larissa’s right arm, then pulled himself up and finished tying her arms behind her back.
Nick collapsed on the deck, exhausted, watching without emotion as Larissa struggled against her bonds. Gradually, he became aware of the buzz of his cell phone. He hesitated for a moment, then punched the answer button.
“Doris, hi,” he greeted his mother-in-law. “Thanks for taking care of Nettie. Yeah, are you guys having fun?”
THE HINDI HOUDINI, by Gigi Pandian
The young man in a pristine bowler hat attempted the futile exercise of extricating himself from the twenty-foot fish net that had fallen onto the stage.
The netting was heavier than he’d imagined, causing him to fall to his knees when it dropped. He lifted the knotted rope pressing against his shoulders, shifting his hat in the process. A rose petal emerged from beneath the hat and fluttered to the floor.
“The net isn’t supposed to drop until I reach the trunk,” he said in a raised voice, ceasing his squirming and readjusting his hat. “Markus, can you get this thing off of me?”
Sanjay Rai, AKA The Hindi Houdini, was practicing for his magic show at the Cave Dweller Winery in California’s Napa Valley. It was his first day setting up for his series of shows that would run for the summer tourist season. In his late twenties, Sanjay had already developed quite a following. He liked to think of himself as a magician and escape artist for the 21st century with the sensibilities of previous centuries. He performed in a tuxedo, alternating between a bowler hat and a turban. Either one could hold what he needed for his sleight-of-hand.
Fish Nets: The Second Guppy Anthology Page 7