Regrert

  I slapped the table, not hard, but enough to get their attention. Then I pointed the index finger on each hand at one of them respectively, raising my eyebrows as if to say "Enough, now listen up." When I saw I had their attention I continued. "I know I didn’t have to, but dammit I wanted to. You guys have been great, and honestly…" I paused and then tried my best to sound like I was on the verge of tears. "Without you two, and this place, there’s no telling where I would have ended up. Or what shape my life might be in. I was at the end of my rope when I got here, and because of what you’ve offered me I’ve slowly made the climb back up."

  The table was silent then, nobody even chewed. I picked my fork back up and poked at my plate.

  Ralph sighed, "Yeah, I guess you do owe us something, boy." He looked at me with a serious face he could only hold for a second before he broke and we all started to laugh.

  "Well now that you’ve come to your senses," I said, "You and Minnie have reservations tomorrow night at Ramones. I know it’s not your anniversary--I don’t think--but I hoped you’d still enjoy it."

  Minnie was clearly excited, "Oh of course we will. We love that place."

  I put a hand on hers. "Good. Reservation’s for seven-thirty. Order two of everything you want, I’m taking care of it all. I spoke to the manager and we’ve got it all worked out."

  I turned to Ralph, "It’s the least I could do, really."

  Truth. I knew nothing would prepare them for what they’d find when they got home.

  Chapter 45

  Sleep did not come for a long time that night. I wanted it to, desperately needed it, as I felt it would be the last opportunity for a good night’s sleep I would ever have. That’s right, the clock was ticking down to its final hours, it was almost show time. Almost time for closure.

  But still my mind was uneasy, eluding sleep. Given the two crimes I had committed previously, the task at hand should have been no problem, just another notch on the belt. But it felt different, real. The other women were nobodies, insignificant to me in every way. Jenna was personal, and despite all the hate I had for her, despite all the planning, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it in the end. Not even for Amy’s sake.

  You have to. You know that, Jackson said in my head.

  Do you think I can do it?

  If you can’t I will.

  I know. I know you will, and that’s what I’m afraid of.

  The bitch needs to die.

  Maybe… Maybe not.

  Dan, what’s today’s date?

  Umm.. November 12th maybe?

  It’s the 11th. Amy’s birthday is in three days. What are you going to get her?

  I had completely forgotten about Amy’s birthday. It was so close to Thanksgiving and that’s how I always remembered, but now… now that she was dead, I guess remembering important dates became all the more difficult. But maybe that was good. Maybe we aren’t meant to remember anymore because it hurts too much. I closed my eyes hard and felt the single tear slide down my face before plopping onto my pillow.

  "Ok, but then it stops, just like planned," I said to the room and myself.

  It doesn’t have to, you know?"

  Yes. Yes it does.

  I was offered no retort, and sleep finally found me.

  My cell phone alarm started its annoying chirp and woke me on time the following morning. I jumped up out of bed renewed, refreshed and determined. I pushed the thought that it would be my last day of freedom as far to the back of my mind as I could get it. I couldn’t let negative thinking get in my way. The day was too important. I showered, dressed in the outfit I had picked out the night before (khaki pants and a cream-colored sweater), and then started to clean up the bedroom. As a common courtesy I figured that when the shit hit the fan and then started to splatter against the walls, the least I could do for Ralph and Minnie would be to make sure all my things were packed away neatly and not lingering around their guest bedroom.

  I folded all my clothes neatly and placed them in my bags. A trip to the bathroom and all my toiletries were packed neatly, too. I made the bed for the last time, trying hard to make the comforter as smooth and tightly tucked as I had found it months earlier, and when I was finished I stood back and scanned the room for any stray belongings. I found none and, satisfied, I pushed all my bags to the side of the room against the wall, discreet and out of the way. Then I slung my laptop bag over my shoulder and left the room for the last time, closing the door behind me. Minnie and Ralph never went in my room unless it was laundry day, when Minnie washed the sheets. It wasn’t laundry day so they wouldn’t notice I was all packed up. No questions would be asked. I went down for a quick breakfast before going to pick up Jenna.

  Ralph came downstairs as I was washing my dishes and I had just placed them in the drying rack when he said, "Big day, huh?"

  I wiped my hands clean with the dishtowel. "She’s just a friend, Ralph. Somebody that’s been there for me, nothing more."

  He held up a hand in defense. "Ok, ok. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

  I had put on the charade of attraction with Jenna in order to lure her to Jacob’s Bluff. I had no intention of misleading the rest of the world with that. The woman disgusted me and soon everybody would find out just how much.

  "It’s fine. I just don’t want you two--you and Minnie--thinking there’s some kind of romance here. My wife hasn’t been in the ground a year yet."

  "Understood," he said, tapping me on the shoulder as we passed by each other. "And I’ll make sure Minnie knows the same. Make sure you don’t end up one of her conversation pieces down at the hair place."

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. "Thanks for that." I told him goodbye and went out the door.

  The air outside was crisp and cool, but not cold. The sun was peaking through the clouds and this all made for a very pleasant morning. I walked around the side of the house and had just started to whistle a tune when I saw the car that was sitting next to mine. The pleasant morning suddenly turned sour.

  The Crown Vic was black, a bit outdated, and still imposing given its size and general association with police and government officials. Agent Collins was getting out of the car--which even though large, seemed too small for him--wearing jeans and a black turtleneck with a sports coat over top. I saw the shoulder holster just briefly as he closed his door. He stood by the front of my Jeep as I approached. Inside my pulse quickened.

  Did you think you’d get away with it? Images from my dream tried to push themselves in. I pushed back. I smiled and gave a quick wave. "Morning, Agent Collins."

  He nodded. "Dan."

  "Ralph’s in the kitchen I believe."

  "Thanks," he said, but I could tell he had more to add. I stood and waited, impatiently but trying to remain calm. I had nothing to say to the giant man before me and I couldn’t imagine anything he would need to say to me. Nothing good anyway.

  We stood facing each other for a moment and as I was about to say "I’ll see you later," he threw out words that caused me to skip a breath.

  "Why’d you lie to them?"

  My instincts told me to run; get in the jeep--if I could do it fast enough--and speed away as fast as I could. I managed to stand my ground and I said the only thing I could manage to utter. "Wh.. What?"

  Agent Collins took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, his massive chest heaving. "Dan, I know."

  His gun. He was big, but I knew I had to be faster than him. I could give him a quick punch to the throat and grab his gun from under the jacket. I was so close. All I needed was a few more hours.

  I gave him a confused look, and shrugged my shoulders. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

  He squinted and gave me a little grin, like he was sizing me up. "Wait here a second, please." He turned and opened the back door of his Crown Vic.

  Cuffs, I thought. He’s getting the cuffs and then he’s going to slap them on me and throw me in the back of the car. Did Ralph know? Did he know Agent Collins wa
s coming to arrest me? He put on a good show if he did.

  All these thoughts sped through my mind.

  Special Agent Collins stood up from the car and turned around. Again, I almost ran. But then I saw what he was holding.

  "Would you please sign this for me, if it’s not too much trouble? My wife’s a fan." Ensnared in the agent’s hands was a copy of The Teachers’ Lounge. It looked brand new and unread. "I won’t lie, I’ve never read it myself. I stick to nonfiction mostly. But my wife loved it."

  My mind froze and I was rendered motionless and speechless. I didn’t know what to think or do. Agent Collins had made me, yes. But he hadn’t made the part of me that I was most worried about. Plus, he hadn’t read the book, which means he didn’t know about Jackson, and hopefully wouldn’t make the connection between my fictional character and the alias I had used at the Holiday Inn, and the voice inside my head. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Still bad, but not too bad. Plus, Agent Collins was too late. I was in the final act of my show and time was not on his side.

  I held out my hands--they only shook a little at first--and took the book from him. Then my eyes met his. I must have still looked a bit confused.

  He smiled. "When Ralph was telling me about you the name struck me as familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it stuck. Then he told me about your wife and the car accident and that’s when it all came to me. My wife was in the middle of reading your book when the accident happened and when she saw it on the news I remember her saying what a shame it was, because you both were so young."

  I nodded. Still kind of unsure where the conversation was headed.

  "I was just about to ask Ralph if he knew he had a best-selling author living with him when he said that he thought you were some sort of consultant and that you’d never been real clear about what exactly it was you did for a living. I’m not a firm believer in coincidences--part of the job, I guess--but the odds of another Dan Dawkins with a wife dead in a car crash seemed a little improbable. Still, I realized I still might have the name wrong. So I kept my mouth shut."

  "Thanks," I said, not really meaning to.

  He nodded this time and then looked at me like he was waiting for me to say more.

  "Do you have a pen?" I said. I wanted to sign the damn book and get out of there. I needed to get to Jenna before Agent Collins’ brain woke up and one epiphany later I’d be behind bars sooner than I wanted to be.

  He reached under his jacket, and for a the briefest of seconds I thought he was going to pull his gun on me, shouting CAUGHT YA!, but his hand came back out only clutching a ball-point pen. He handed it over and then, realizing this was becoming more like an interrogation than a conversation he said, "So, I went to Wal-Mart before I went back to the hotel that night and found the book. I flipped to the back, thinking there had to be a picture of the author in the back and sure enough, there you were. So… I’ve got to ask. Why’d you lie to them?"

  I opened the book to the title page and scribbled my name and the day’s date. Then I closed it and handed the book and the pen back to him. I saw no way of eluding the question, especially with an FBI agent. So I figured what the hell? My reasons for anonymity didn’t pertain too much to my crimes, other than the Jackson connection, and I felt mostly comfortable in the fact that telling Agent Collins a close to accurate version of the truth wouldn’t land me in any hot water.

  He thanked me for the book and then stood, waiting.

  I sighed. "When I got published my life got crazy. I was flying all over the country, women were trying to seduce me at book signings, I had become a celebrity and didn’t even know it until it was too late. It was… hectic. But hey, that’s the price you pay, right?"

  He waited.

  "So then, as you know, my wife was killed in the accident. It was awful. Everything else ceased to matter and it felt like my life had literally crumbled to bits all around me. You have no idea how terrible it was. I was empty. Anyway, long story short, I needed to get away. I needed to get away from my old house, my old town, pretty much my old life in general, which included writing and the status it had earned me."

  I saw understanding and what looked like a shred of compassion flicker in his eyes.

  "So I sold my house and started driving. This is where I ended up, and when Ralph didn’t show any signs of recognition when I told him my name I just figured all the better. The fewer people who knew who I actually was, the better chance I might find of actually moving on and healing some. Make sense?"

  He pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow like a man staring at an algebra problem, then nodded. "Yes sir, I think that makes complete sense." He pointed to the house. "Those are good people in there, very good people, and I think you could trust them with just about anything if you were serious enough about it, but I understand where you’re coming from." He walked around to the trunk of the Crown Vic and opened it, putting the book inside. "So Ralph won’t see," he said. "For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry for your loss. And don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me." And then with a big-toothed grin, "I’m a Federal Agent, after all."

  I forced a laugh and he headed towards the front door. When he was out of sight I slumped into the passenger seat of my Jeep and let out a deep sigh of relief.

  I set my laptop bag in the backseat and started the car, backing slowly out of my parking spot. I looked back over my shoulder at the Sanderson Homestead as I went down the driveway.

  Your little secret is safe with me.

  "Yeah, but it’s only one of my secrets," I said as I started to drive away. I prayed he wouldn’t discover my other secret anytime in the next twelve hours. That one I’d doubt he’d keep quiet about.

  Chapter 46

  According to the ever-changing digital screen that was hanging high up on the wall at the airport, Jenna’s flight was on-time and was scheduled to be landing twenty minutes after I arrived. It was a good sign, I thought. Things would go on schedule. I found a seat near her gate and waited.

  On paper the drive was long, slightly over three hours, but I managed to make it in a little over two and half. Part of this was because I had pretty much zoned out for the entire trip, which means I put little thought into my speed regulation. I let my windshield-mounted GPS guide the way, obeying its commands. Agent Collins had given me a scare that morning, but now that he and Jacob’s Bluff were behind me I was able to calm myself and reflect. It was a good drive and I was excited. There was also some comfort in knowing that soon I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. Soon it’d be complete.

  The overhead speakers announced that Jenna’s plane had landed and I stood up with the rest of the bystanders who were all grouped together waiting for friends and family, walking over to the large windows and watching the plane pull up to the gate. A young boy, perhaps six years old, was holding a homemade sign, made of red and blue construction paper that read WELCOME HOME MOMMY. WE MISSED YOU!

  Suddenly I felt nauseas, and I needed to sit down. As the rest of the people merged from the windows to the gate’s door that the airport attendant was just opening, I stumbled backwards and just managed to land my butt in one of the hard plastic seats, plopping down with a loud THUD that caused more than couple of heads to turn my way. No one offered concern though, God Bless America.

  People started to emerge from the door, most looking tired after probably just waking from flight-time naps, and fiddling with their carry-ons. The people from the gate door filed out and meshed with the group who’d been waiting and soon everybody seemed to be embraced in a hug or planting a kiss. The boy with the sign’s mother plucked him from the ground and squeezed him hard, saying she loved the sign so much. I sucked in deep breaths of air, over and over, closing my eyes and trying to focus. I had tried to prepare myself for this moment, thought I had it down, but the moment where I’d be standing face to face with the person who had caused all my pain and been the reason for all my suffering was proving to be too much.

  Come
on Dan, get up, I thought to myself. Get up now, you’re fine. I sucked in more air. Now that the passengers had been collected by the people waiting for them, small groups started to disperse in different directions.

  GET UP!

  I took in one more deep breath and stood, my head spinning for just a second before settling. My stomach relaxed, and I started to breath normally again. I was going to be ok. I scanned the dwindling crowd and looked for Jenna.

  "Dan?"

  I turned around, faster than I should have and my brain did a little twirl again. It stopped quickly, though. I stood there with Jenna McMurray in front of me, looking livelier than most of the others who had gotten off the plane. She was wearing jeans and a sweater as well, only her sweater was black. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and a smile stuck on her face. When I saw her my mind flashed back to the image of her lying in bed naked next to me the night I snuck out of the hotel, I thought about our day in the city.

  I wanted to kill her right there in the airport. Jackson had been so right. The bitch deserved to die.

  Calm down. Not here. All in good time.

  I forced myself to relax. "Jenna!" I tried to sound downright fucking jubilant. "I’m so glad to see you!" I leaned in then, hoping my stomach wouldn’t start to kick up the nauseas level again, and gave her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. I saw her face redden for a just a second.

  "It’s good to see you too," she said, switching her bag from one shoulder to the other. I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve… umm," her eyes danced over my body, "bulked up."

  I smiled and shrugged. "Town as small as where we’re about to go, it’s pretty much either work out or die of complete boredom. I opted for the former."

  "Yeah I can see that." I watched her eyes look over me one more time and was amazed at how much I had her. How much she already wanted me. This was going to be too easy.

  "Good flight?" I asked.