The Mistaken

by Nancy S Thompson

  I studied the woman as she sobbed on the floor, blood smeared and crusted along the side of her face. She stared at me with haunted eyes that bore through me with rage, hatred, and despair. I could relate. I had felt the same way and now abhorred that I was the source of all three. The man I once was wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I knew all I would accomplish would be to further terrorize her. Her dress was ripped, nearly torn from her body, and her legs were exposed and already showing signs of bruises. As I took a step closer, she raised her chin, but still pressed herself deeper into the corner.

  “You keep back!” she screamed. “Stay away from me!”

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Just…calm down, all right? I won’t hurt you, not any more.” I made the promise, but realized how hollow my words must sound to her. I grabbed the blanket from the bed and held it out to her. “Here, take this. Cover yourself up. Please.”

  Instead of moving closer and scaring her further, I tossed the blanket at her. The blood on my hands flashed before me like a beacon at twilight. I held my hands up in front of my face, repulsed. I would have wiped the blood onto my shirt had I not been naked from the waist up. I turned, hunting for my discarded clothing, and put my t-shirt back on, though it, too, was stained. I pulled on my wet jacket and zipped it to cover the evidence beneath. A trembling sigh of relief escaped my lips, but I could not hide the true testament of my crime. With slow caution, I approached the woman again. Her frightened eyes followed me, round as saucers.

  I knelt down in front of her, five feet away. “I’m sorry, your name?” I asked. “What did you say your name was?”

  She sniffled. “Hannah...Maguire,” she replied between hiccups. She wiped her eyes and nose with the blanket now secured tightly around her.

  I offered her a feeble smile and gnawed on my lip. “Right. Hannah. Okay, um…good. That’s good.” I stared at her and sighed, unsure of the best way to proceed. “Look, Hannah, I... There are no words... I don’t even…know what to say... What I’ve done…what I tried to do, it’s…it’s unforgivable, I know.” I bowed my head, unable to look her in the eye any longer. “I can’t even begin to explain...why I...what would make me... I have nothing that would help you understand. I don’t understand it myself. I don’t know where that came from, even with everything that’s happened. I…I don’t know what to say. I am so very, very sorry.”

  I looked back at her, hoping my regret was as plainly written on my face as it was seared into my heart. My throat constricted with the effort it took not to allow the sorrow and shame to overwhelm me. But I had to address her. The situation had become unbelievably dire. There was more at stake now than ever.

  “Okay, so, um…Hannah…you mentioned that you had a private investigator following your husband, that you had pictures, right? May I see them, please? Whatever you have on the two of them together. I need to be absolutely sure. If you could get them for me, please.”

  She continued to glare at me silently from the floor.

  “Where are they?” I requested more urgently.

  She startled and poked a hand out from beneath the blanket, pointing to the room behind me. “They’re…in the…closet. Back there…through…the bathroom.”

  “Right. Okay, good. That’s…that’s good. Um…would you get them for me, please?”

  Again, she sat silently, not moving to get up or respond in any way.

  “Please, Hannah, this is more important than you could possibly know.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stood up slowly, one hand pressed against her temple as she winced in pain. Her bare foot caught the edge of the blanket, and she stumbled forward. Without thinking, I reached out to steady her, but she lurched up against the wall, shrieking at me, her eyes wide with fear.

  “No! Get away! Don’t touch me!”

  I pulled back and retreated a few steps with my hands raised. “Sorry! I won’t hurt you. I promise. I won’t hurt you.” I stepped back farther, allowing her room to pass.

  With her back turned away, she sidestepped around me, never once letting her eyes slip from mine. She retreated in reverse, each step slow and measured, all the way into and through the master bathroom where she stopped in the doorway of a large walk-in closet. Hannah spun around and disappeared into the darkness.

  I followed her to the closet and flipped on the light, startling her again. She jumped and sucked in a sharp breath. I stopped in my tracks and raised my hands.

  “It’s okay. Take it easy.” I even tried to smile, but it was a miserable attempt. “Now…if you could…the pictures, please.”

  She pulled a file folder out of a built-in dresser drawer. The file trembled as she held it out to me. I looked her in the eye, trying to reassure her that I meant no further harm. Without taking a step closer, I stretched forward and took the folder then gestured for her to return to the bathroom.

  “Please, Hannah, go sit down.”

  She shook her head. “No way. I’m not going anywhere near you. You move first.”

  I chewed on my lip then said, “Okay, that’s fair.” With my eyes glued to hers, I backed out of closet and into the bathroom, stopping shy of the main door. “Okay, I’m all the way out here. It’s your turn.”

  Her worried face eased through the open closet door and turned toward me.

  “Good enough?” I asked.

  She nodded, but only slightly.

  “All right then. Come on out and have a seat, please.” I gestured toward the large jetted tub.

  She side-stepped across the carpeted bathroom floor, eyeing me warily every inch of the way. Her face screwed up as she lowered herself down along the edge. I winced at her display of pain, disgusted with myself. I dropped her gaze and lowered my head, my eyes pinned to the floor in shame.

  I opened the file she’d given me and pored over the material in the folder. I read through a report prepared by the man she had hired. The descriptions noted numbered photographs which I studied intently. The people in the photographs were identified as Beckham Steven Maguire of Sammamish, Washington, age thirty-eight, and Erin Elizabeth Anderson of Petaluma, California, age twenty-four.

  The pictures showed the two of them in a variety of locations. I stared at the images of Erin. There was no doubt that Hannah and Erin bore an uncanny resemblance, but with Hannah sitting so close, there was also no mistaking the differences. Erin was probably ten years younger than Hannah. Holding the evidence in front of me, I don’t know how I could have made such a monumental error, even as drunk as I was. The magnitude of my mistake was astounding and crushed me anew.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered to myself. I was still looking them over them when I walked over to confront Hannah. Sighing, I shook my head and looked into her worried eyes. “Hannah, besides the obvious, this evidence provides me with a substantial problem.” I wasn’t sure how to explain the gravity of the situation and what my options were, especially without scaring the life out of her. “I’ve made a terrible—”

  We both jumped when my mobile phone rang from inside my pocket. I kept my eyes on Hannah as I dug for it, glancing at the screen before I answered.

  “Shit,” I swore quietly to myself. I turned away and accepted the call. “Nick?”

  “Ty, where the fuck are you? When I woke up, you were gone. And so was my gun. Did you take it?”

  “Yes, Nick, I did. I’m sorry, but—”

  “Ty, please tell me you didn’t go up to Maguire’s on your own.”

  “Yes, I did. Look, Nick, we have a problem.” I looked back over my shoulder at Hannah. “A rather significant one. And I’m not quite sure what to do about it.”

  “Oh God, Ty, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

  “God, no. I did not kill her.”

  “Well, what is it then?”

  “Well, um, there’s…been a...mistake.”

  “A mistake? What does that mean, a mistake? What happened?”

  “I don’t have time to explain it right now. I’m kind of…busy. I’ll tell
you everything when I get back.”

  “No, Ty, I want to know what you’re talking about. What mistake?”

  “All right, Nick, please, listen carefully. I need you to call Alexi and tell him that I’ll be delayed. Do not say anything else. Just tell him I’ll be a few days longer than expected. Make up some excuse. Anything. I don’t care. Just get him to extend the deadline, all right? I’ve got to figure all this out before I talk to him again myself.”

  “What is going on? You’re scaring me, Tyler. You do not want to piss Alexi off, believe me. He doesn’t trust you as it is. I’m sure he’s having you followed, you know, to keep an eye on things, in case there’s a problem. If you want, I can get some of the guys over there. Just one call to Alexi and—”

  “No, Nick! Don’t you say a goddamn thing. They can’t come here! Not now!”

  “Why not, Ty? What the hell is going on?”

  “Nick, please just...just do as I ask, all right? I’ll be there as soon as I can. We’ll talk then. Don’t worry about anything just yet, okay?”

  Nick sighed impatiently. “Okay, but you better hurry.”

  I ended the call and turned back to Hannah who was fidgeting in her seat alongside the tub. What Nick had said about Alexi’s men concerned me. I couldn’t risk having them involved until I mediated a new arrangement with Alexi, one that involved only the repayment of funds. Dmitri had already been paid; his client was waiting. If they thought I was even slightly reluctant to turn the girl over to them, they would simply eliminate me, seize Hannah, and deliver her themselves. They wouldn’t care who she was. Any girl would do. And with me out of the way, they wouldn’t have to relinquish Nick either. They’d both be slaves to the Russians.

  My God, what a mess!

  “Hannah, I need to get you out of here...right away, okay?”

  She shook her head. “No way. I’m not going anywhere with you. Just leave, please.”

  “Look, I know you don’t understand. You’re scared. You’re hurt and angry. I get that but…I can’t explain everything to you right now. It’s urgent that we leave immediately, please.”

  “Why in God’s name would I leave my home with you? I don’t know you, and after what you’ve done...” She shook her head. “You’re insane! Just get the hell out and leave me alone, please. I won’t tell anyone what happened, I swear.”

  Hannah became agitated, alarmed by my urgency. As she stood up, a new course of tears erupted. She wiped at them with the blanket, smearing the dried blood crusted along the side of her face into streaks. I groaned inwardly as I scanned her appearance from head to toe, the blood and bruises, her ruined clothing. I grew more anxious by the minute. I couldn’t take her out looking like that and risk drawing unwanted attention, and I didn’t have time to argue with her.

  “Find some comfortable clothing and change,” I ordered. “Wash up first, you’re covered in blood. Then pack a change of clothes and whatever personal items you might need over the next few days.” I took a step closer. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  “No, forget it. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She stood her ground, her chin raised.

  I reached into the pocket for Nick’s gun. “Do as I ask, Hannah.”

  She hopped back and nearly fell into the tub. I reacted and grabbed her by the arms to steady her. She yelped out in fright and twisted her arms away, but I held firm though I tried my best not to hurt her. Fear swam in her eyes, and I lamented my harsh tone. I softened my voice as I eased her down onto the edge of the tub.

  “Sit down, Hannah, please.”

  She squirmed and tried to pull herself free. I released my grip, reached for the washcloth on the towel rack, and dampened it under running water, squeezing out the excess. I crouched in front of her and pressed the cloth into her clenched hand. She stared at me through her fear, her stubborn chin thrust forward and her lips pursed in anger. I stared back, offering her my apologies, my sorrow, my remorse. Tears welled up, but I wiped them away before they could spill over. My throat tightened as I searched for the right words.

  “I know what you must be thinking and feeling, Hannah, at least I can guess, but...I’m not the monster you think I am. Not really.” I bowed my head once before finding the courage to look back up. “My wife, Jillian, she was pregnant. She died in a car crash, a preventable one caused by Erin Anderson and her reckless disregard. Since then, I’ve been driven to madness…with grief and anger. With loneliness. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, for what I…almost did. I realize that. Believe me, if I could take it all back, I would, but…now… Well, now I have no other choice than to rectify this.”

  “You can’t rectify this!” she urged, her fist striking hard against her leg.

  “I have to at least try.”

  “It won’t matter what you do! You can’t fix this. And you can’t fix what you’ve done to me!”

  “Perhaps…but I still need to try.” I was uncomfortable looking into her eyes for very long. I softened my voice. “Now please, clean up, change, and gather your things quickly.”

  She took a ragged breath as I stood up and towered over her. As I turned to walk away, she released it. I looked back over my shoulder as she stood up from the tub.

  “No. I won’t do it.” She gave me a nervous shake of her head, but stood there unwavering. “Look, I’m…sorry for your loss and all. I can only imagine how…difficult it must be, but…you’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you. You should just leave. I won’t say anything to anyone, I swear. I won’t tell a soul, if you would just leave. Please. Just leave.”

  She stood bravely in front of me, clutching the damp rag and blanket beneath her chin. I walked up to face her, determined to remove her from further jeopardy no matter what it took.

  “Hannah, I’m afraid this isn’t voluntary. If I have to drag you out of here forcibly, I will, but I think you would be more comfortable in the long run with a few of your own things, so I strongly suggest you gather them. Now.”

  Still, she remained rooted to the floor, unwilling to cooperate. I didn’t want to frighten her any further, but I needed her to understand that this was serious, that I didn’t have time or the luxury of tolerating defiance in the face of danger. I closed the distance between us, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her back into the closet. I shoved her toward the long rack of clothing and released her.

  “I’m not going to ask you again. Change and gather your things. And wash the blood from your face. Do it now, or I promise, you will not like the alternative.”

  She studied me with narrowed eyes, her teeth clenched and visible between parted lips. She snorted a belligerent huff and reached for her overnight bag, never breaking her gaze on me.

  “A little privacy,” she snapped.

  With a tip of my head, I left the bathroom. I paced the bedroom floor and checked my watch every sixty seconds. After five minutes had scraped by, I called out, “Come on, we have to hurry.”

  I heard her mumble a reply through the wall, and not a very nice one by the tone, but I couldn’t blame her. I hurried her along one more time, but she kept silent, though I could hear the water running in the sink. When she emerged after another five long minutes, her appearance clean of blood and a packed bag in hand, she stood before me, trying valiantly to appear courageous, but I saw the lingering fear as she trembled.

  “I’m not going along with this willingly,” she explained, “but if you expect any cooperation from me whatsoever, I need some kind of explanation as to why it is so important, so urgent for me to leave with you. You owe me at least that much.”

  I acknowledged the fairness of her request with a nod. “I agree, but…it won’t matter. You’ll never understand.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “Right. Okay, um…well… I owe someone. In trade, that is. You might call it a debt, of sorts, and a rather large one, at that. And you—or Erin rather—were to be the payment of that debt, what I was trading. Now, with the current circ
umstances such as they are, I can’t pay my end with the terms as they were agreed upon. But I assure you, my friend will not look favorably on this, and as he likely has associates nearby, he will certainly try to intervene to ensure repayment. At any cost.

  “Hannah, this man, he’s violent and extremely dangerous. Don’t give me that look. I know what you’re thinking. But what I’ve done, as bad as it was, is nothing compared to what this man will do should he get his hands on you. My brother and I have both experienced his abuse first hand. He holds absolutely no regard for human life whatsoever. Therefore, I can’t guarantee your freedom, let alone your safety, if I were to leave you here alone. I need time to renegotiate a new settlement, one that doesn’t include you, or anyone else for that matter. Though, at the moment, you might disagree, I am not the scariest monster out there. Not by half. And I don’t want you further abused as an innocent caught up in my mistake. I can’t undo what I’ve already done, but at this point, I have to try for a better outcome. You see my predicament, Hannah? This is very serious.”

  She nodded, but barely. “So then…what exactly were you trading me for?” she asked.

  I sighed. “My brother, his freedom, maybe even his life.”

  With her chin now tucked close to her chest, she looked frightened as she stood before me, mulling over my explanation. She nodded again, like it somehow made sense to her.

  “Tell me your name,” she ordered.

  “Hannah, we don’t have time for—”

  “We have time for your goddamn name. Now tell me.”

  “It’s Tyler. Tyler Karras.”

  “Tyler?”

  “Yes, but my friends call me Ty.”

  She narrowed her eyes again and tilted her head to the side.

  “Hmm. So tell me...Tyler,” she said, emphasizing the use of my full name, “how did you plan on using me—or Erin rather—in trade, as repayment for your debt? Because your explanation makes absolutely no sense. You cannot trade one person to pay for another.”