CopyCat

by Shannon West

  I kept moving and found a kind of landing ahead, leading to another set of steep stairs. These led down into what I thought must be the basement. I could smell a musty dampness in the air. I’d never liked the basement and tried to stay out of it as much as I could. When my grandfather was still alive, the washer and dryer were down there, and from time to time I’d have to go down and do laundry by myself. There was only one light—more of a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling with a cord so the basement always stayed dim and shadowy. I hated it.

  When my grandfather passed I sold the old washer and dryer down in the basement and got someone to install a stacked unit in the closet off the kitchen. It was part of the renovations I had done, and one of my favorite additions. It had cost a lot to get the plumbing done, but well worth it in my opinion. Still the trail of blood led down into the basement, so I took a deep breath and followed it down.

  The basement was just as dark and creepy as the last time I’d been down there, only more so knowing there were people roaming around my house in the dark. I saw what looked like a pile of clothing by a narrow, low doorway and hurried over to it. It was Connor Todd all right, and my heart skipped several beats as the flashlight picked out a big, bloody gash on the back of his blond head. I turned him over carefully and saw his beautiful, familiar face gone slack and pale. Searching frantically for a pulse on his neck, I thought my heart might stop again until I finally located it, weak and thready, but there, and for the first time in my life I knew why people thanked God.

  He was deeply unconscious, though, and I knew I had to get help for him and quickly. I looked through his pockets for his cell phone, but it was missing. Not wanting to leave him down there, but not knowing what else to do, reluctantly I got to my feet and opened up the door beside him. Stygian darkness looked back at me, and since I had no idea where it might lead, I decided to go back up the narrow staircase. If I could make it back the way I’d come and then get to the front door, I thought maybe I could flag down a passing car. That was the plan anyway, and it might have worked if I hadn’t heard the footsteps coming back toward me from the direction I’d come in.

  They were loud, making no effort at all to be quiet, so I knew that whoever was coming toward me was in a panic, running back down the passage. I could see their light bobbing ahead and I froze for a second, unsure of what to do. I didn’t relish a fight here in this narrow corridor and besides, I knew there had to be two of them from the swarm of footsteps in the dust and the voices that had murmured to each other earlier. It sounded like only one of the intruders was coming toward me now, but the other one probably wouldn’t be far behind. I looked wildly around for a place to hide and saw an opening in the hallway I hadn’t yet explored. I hurried toward it and saw that it led upward to the second floor.

  Climbing the steps, I thought it would still be okay. I’d go up about halfway and hide there until whoever had been coming toward me had passed by. Then I’d creep back down and find the exit again. To my horror, I heard the footsteps turn at the opening to the corridor I crouched in, heading straight for me. I jumped to my feet and blindly crawled up the steps, feeling my way. The intruder was too close behind me to risk using my flashlight.

  Finally the steps seemed to end and I found myself crawling out onto a kind of landing. I was at a dead end and trapped there with the intruder heading up the narrow steps below. If I could have found the entrance to the rest of the house, I might have been able to crawl through and hide somewhere inside, but it was far too dark to locate it. The footsteps were right below me now, so I did the only thing I could do. Slipping over the side of the railing, I held onto the post with both hands, gripping as hard as I could, my body dangling over a two-story drop below. I held my breath, knowing that if I betrayed my presence in any way, it probably would mean my death.

  If the intruder looked carefully, he would have been able to see my hands gripping the rail. But thankfully, he never even paused. I heard the footsteps reach the landing, and then a click and a scrape and the passage door closed behind him.

  It took a few moments to regulate my breathing again, and then I had a bad moment when I thought I might not be able to pull myself back up. I made it, though my arms were trembling and my hands were a little numb. I crept back down the way I’d come, careful to shield the light from my flashlight with my hand, in case the other intruder was around somewhere. As I got to the opening at the main corridor, I heard voices again and went back down the basement steps. I had no real plan at that point. I was thinking that maybe the door beside Connor Todd would lead outside eventually or I could somehow pull him into it and barricade the door from the other side—like I said, no real plan. Certainly no real good plan.

  I realized I was running out of time as I heard the voices not too far away. They were so close I could even make out a word or two, like my name and Connor Todd’s. Something about the police, though I didn’t think they were talking about calling them. Crouching down beside Connor, I shook him desperately, but he only groaned and tried to curl his body up, probably in an effort to protect himself. Frantically I searched through his pockets again, looking for a phone or a gun or anything I could use to help us both, but I found nothing.

  The voices had stopped right at the top of the landing to the basement now and I heard a familiar voice say, “I can’t find the little bastard anywhere. Do you think he heard us and ran outside?”

  Another deeper voice, also familiar, replied. “The front door’s still locked from the inside. No, he’s hiding somewhere. Let’s get Todd upstairs and put his body by the front door. When we find the kid, we can put his body next to him.”

  Frantically, I grabbed Connor Todd again, knowing he was too heavy for me to move, but maybe not thinking all that clearly in my desperation. When I pulled at him this time, his legs fell apart and I saw a leather strap over one ankle. I pulled up his pants leg and said a silent thanks to whoever was looking out for us, because the leather strap was part of an ankle holster, and a big gun was gleaming up at me from inside it. I pulled it out and cocked it just as the two men made it to the bottom of the stairs and pointed their flashlights right at us.

  I heard a gasp and then “Gavin!” I looked up to meet Steven Oswald’s anxious gaze. Beside him stood Jim Allen, Connor Todd’s partner.

  Jim Allen recovered first. He pasted a smile on his face and held out a hand toward me. “Give me the gun, Gavin. I’m here to help you. Mr. Oswald and I came in to check on you and found the passageway open. We’ve already called the police, and they’re on the way.”

  “Stop right there,” I said, shaking the gun at him. “You’re a liar. Both of you. Get the hell away from us or I’ll shoot.”

  “Gavin,” Steven Oswald said in a soft, shocked voice.

  Jim Allen took another step towards me. He was about fifteen feet away. “Gavin, don’t be ridiculous. We’re here to help you.”

  I leveled the gun at him again and shook my head, “No, you’re not.”

  For a moment Jim Allen’s mask slipped. He grimaced at me, and I swear I heard a soft growl. “Give me the damned gun, you fool!” he shouted and lunged towards me.

  He didn’t think I’d shoot him. I could see that thought pass across his face clearly in the second or two before he collapsed, a bullet hole blossoming like a red flower in the middle of his forehead. Steven Oswald screamed. At least I think it was him. He turned so quickly and ran up the steps I couldn’t be sure. From where I crouched beside Connor Todd a few seconds later, I heard the front door slam and I knew he was gone.

  Still shaking, I got to my feet and went over to check for a pulse in Jim Allen’s throat. His blind eyes stared up at me, surprise and something like disappointment still in their depths. I found his cell phone in his pocket and called 9-1-1. The operator kept me on the phone until I heard the sirens stop outside, and then I had to go up to lead them in.

  Everything got crazy for a while after that. The paramedics c
ame in and when they saw Jim Allen was beyond help, they concentrated on Connor Todd. The police kept talking to me, but I wouldn’t answer, no matter how much they yelled, until I saw them take Connor Todd out on a stretcher, and one of the EMTs promised me he’d be okay. Then finally, I told them to call Angela Jones, so I could shut down and block out all the voices.

  ****

  The bar at the Excelsior Hotel was quiet for a Friday night. I sat at the far end, nursing a beer and watching the entrance, hoping someone interesting would come through the doors. It had been a little over a month since that night in my basement.

  I’d been interrogated by the police who followed me to the hospital where they took me, Angela Jones by my side the whole time. The officer, who was very young and very nice, kept stealing glances over at Angela Jones as if he was afraid she might leap over the bed at him, and well she might, if she’d have sensed any threat to me. She was a loyal friend and advocate.

  She stayed by my side for hours after they called her to come down to the Emergency Room where they took me. After I’d calmed down that night, she told me that Connor Todd was in surgery to release pressure from his brain. He’d been hit so hard they’d thought he was dead, and he wasn’t completely out of the woods yet, but barring complications, the doctors thought he would eventually make a complete recovery.

  I had killed Jim Allen, with the one shot to his head, and though I was sorry he was dead, I’d known that he would kill both me and Connor Todd if given the chance, so I was finding it hard to feel a lot of remorse for what I’d done. Steven Oswald had been quickly located, and he’d made a complete confession.

  “That insurance man, Allen, and Miguel had been partners for a long time,” Angela Jones told me. “Jim Allen had actually been the one to first approach Miguel with the scheme to steal the art and sell it to private collectors. As a detective with the insurance company, he had information on networks set up to fence the stolen pieces, so they were able to make a lot of money together over the years. Once Steven Oswald introduced you to Miguel, he quickly saw the potential in you to make him even more money. With your perfect copies, he could sell the real pieces to the private collectors and then resell the copies as originals to unsuspecting buyers, thus doubling his profit.

  “Even split three ways, the money was good, but then your boyfriend Miguel got too greedy,” she continued. “He tried to make some deals on his own, circumventing Allen, who somehow found out. Allen approached Oswald and the two of them framed Miguel and got him thrown in prison. He must have cared for you more than you realized, because they bought his silence about their own involvement with threats to you.

  “Since Oswald was his business partner, he simply took over the operation for himself and Allen. Oswald kept working with you and was hoping to get you to do even more for him, since he wasn’t…uh…distracting you with sex, but then you decided to renovate the house!”

  “They were coming in through an underground tunnel in the detached garage. But they were afraid you’d tear out a wall or destroy the old garage or something and you’d be on to them. When you got too friendly with Connor Todd, they were afraid the whole thing would come to light. They both thought you knew more than you were letting on anyway, so they decided to get rid of both you and Todd. They planned to make it look as if you’d killed him and then took your own life. Steven Oswald was going to buy the house after they murdered you.”

  “And the missing paintings?” I asked. “Were they in the walls?”

  “Oh yes, they had a whole room full of them, cut right off the frames and stored in tubes. Transport for items like paintings is easy enough, assuming the thieves are willing to inflict some damage to the paintings. Your grandfather had told Oswald about his suspicions about your house being an old Underground Railway station. He told Oswald about the secret rooms and passages in the walls and when Oswald told Miguel, they both saw the potential for a perfect hiding place while they waited for pieces to be picked up. Especially once your grandfather passed away. They didn’t consider you to be much of a threat, you see, because if you said you heard noises in the walls, then…” She broke off and gave me a worried glance.

  “I know. It would just be the word of a crazy person anyway.”

  Angela Jones patted my hand. “You’re not crazy. You’re one of the brightest, most courageous people I’ve ever known.” Her eyes had gotten a little misty and she shook her head with a laugh. “Now see what you made me do! It’s over now, dear, and you can get back to normal. Unfortunately, the gallery will have to be closed, but you could still paint if you like. You’re brilliant at it, and you should keep doing it. Not that you really need the money anyway. Your parents and your grandfather left you well fixed. You don’t have to work at all if you don’t want to, though it would be a shame not to make the most of so much talent.”

  “We’ll see,” I said and turned my face to the wall. I didn’t care about any of that. I couldn’t get my mind off Connor Todd. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. He wasn’t from the area, and I’d heard that a lot of his family had come to be with him while he was recovering. The last thing he needed was to have a visit from me.

  There you go, feeling sorry for yourself again. Thinking of all the things you can’t do instead of the things you can! My grandfather’s voice echoed in my ear as plainly as if he’d been standing there by the bed. I smiled and turned back toward Angela Jones, listening while she prattled on about coming to her house to dinner again just as soon as I got out of the hospital.

  ****

  The bartender came over and brought me another beer. I pulled out my wallet, intending to pay him for what I’d had so far, drink this last beer, and go home. I hadn’t seen anyone who piqued my interest. None of them were tall blonds with sea green eyes. I was looking down at my billfold, so I didn’t see anyone approach me. I jumped a little then when a voice whispered close to my ear.

  “You know, I decided when I came in here I was going to make love to someone tonight. I think you’ll do nicely.”

  I turned around so fast I almost knocked over my beer and saw Connor Todd standing beside me. Smiling at me, he slid on the stool beside me. “I paraphrased that a little. I hate to be predictable.”

  “Connor! What are you doing here? I had no idea you were back in the city.”

  “I never left. My mom lives here in town, and I’ve been staying with her while I recuperated,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She’s very sweet, but I was climbing the walls. Today, I said, ‘Mom, I love you, but I’m moving to a hotel.’”

  “So you’re staying here?” I couldn’t stop smiling at him, and my cheeks were beginning to hurt.

  “Yes, I am. My favorite hotel in the whole city. The rooms are only average, but the scenery is first rate.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed way too much for such a silly joke.

  “I missed you, Gavin. I thought maybe you’d come see me in the hospital.”

  “Oh, well, I…I heard your family had come down to see you and I thought…”

  “You saved my life, baby. They would have loved to have met you.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t do well with meeting new people.”

  “Surely there are some movie lines you could memorize to help you out. Maybe not your porn movies, but…”

  I glanced up at him to see if he was laughing at me, but he was smiling down warmly, only teasing me a little, so I smiled back at him.“You didn’t call me,” I said quietly.

  “I know. I thought a lot about it, but I have so much to say to you I thought I’d better do it in person.” He took my hand in his. “You were so brave that night, Gavin. I really do owe you my life.”

  I shrugged, uncomfortable talking about it. It wasn’t as if I’d made a conscious choice. I mean, what else could I have done? I couldn’t have just walked away and left him there. Changing the subject, I turned more toward him. “When you didn’t call, I thought I might not see you again.”r />
  He rubbed his thumb in tiny circles over the back of my hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right—I should have called weeks ago. I had some things to figure out.”

  “Did you? Figure them out, I mean.”

  “No, not completely. I’m hoping you might give me some more time. We need to get to know each other without all these other issues between us. You trusted me enough to tell me some things about—about you and Santiago. It was hard to hear, but it’s a part of you, and I need to find out about all that, if you’ll share it with me. I have my own issues to work through too. I’d like us to take our time and talk things out, Gavin.”

  “I’d like that,” I said, smiling at him.

  He leaned down to whisper in my ear again. It sent little shivers up and down my back. “I missed that smile.”

  “How long can you stay?” I ran my hand along his arm, loving the warmth and solidness of him.

  “Actually, I’ll be looking for a place to rent. Since Allen’s…gone now…they asked me to take his job in the company. He was head of this division, so it’ll mean a promotion for me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, it’s going to feel a little weird, but it’s a lot more money, and I’d be closer to my mom. She’s had a few health issues lately. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Yes. You see, I was looking for a room to rent in your neighborhood. Maybe an older place with plenty of rooms? Secret passages are optional. Of course, I’d need a landlord who liked to paint pictures and watch a little porn and who might share his special cup with me. Not all the time, of course. But maybe if I asked really nicely. I know that’s oddly specific, but I was wondering if you might know of a place like that?”