The Mistaken

by Nancy S Thompson

  She contemplated me while waiting for my response. She might be ignorant of the terrible things that happened in this world, but then again, I had been, too, at least before all this started. Now I had wisdom I wish I’d never gained. I hoped I could keep that from her, as well. But she wasn’t making it easy. I placed my hands on my hips and sighed.

  “That’s a long story, and we don’t have the time at the moment. So let’s just say that I’ve made a serious mistake. Now, let’s get out of here. I’ll try to explain it all to you later. I promise.”

  “And why should I trust you?”

  I paused and looked hard into her eyes. “Because right now, I’m the only one standing between you and certain harm. Good enough reason for you?”

  She peered at me suspiciously. “For now.”

  Since she seemed to have no other questions, I picked up the folder containing the investigator’s report and motioned for Hannah to lead the way. She gasped as she limped downstairs, scanning the horrific scene of her blood spread across the carpeted steps and hardwood floor of the foyer.

  “Shit!” I cursed again. I took Hannah’s arm above the elbow, felt her muscles tighten beneath my grip, and led her through the gore. “Where are your car keys and your purse?” I asked, glancing back over my shoulder at the unsettling mess.

  Hannah directed me over to the built-in kitchen desk. I shoved her purse into her arms and grabbed the car keys.

  “Give me your phone,” I demanded. She rooted through her purse then handed it to me. I slipped it into my jacket pocket. “Where’s the garage?”

  Hannah silently indicated the way. She was spooked by all the blood, her face as grey as the stormy sky.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah, but we need to take your car. I have my brother’s and they’ll recognize it for sure. No one knows about you, at least not yet, so they won’t know your car. It’ll be safer, for now anyway.” I opened the door to the garage and stopped in my tracks. “Brilliant. You couldn’t drive something a little less flashy?”

  She cracked a slight smile, brittle as it was, then shook her hair from her face as she raised her chin. “It’s Beck’s. His pride and joy. I thought a little retribution was in order.”

  I matched her weak grin with one of my own. “Right. Good for you. And by the way…your husband? He’s a real prick.”

  She threw me hard look. “Hmm. What is it they say? It takes one to know one?” Her mouth twisted and she turned back away.

  I pressed my lips together and sighed. “Throw your stuff in the back. I’ll drive.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tyler

  The main thoroughfare through Hannah’s neighborhood was lined with expensive custom-built houses, each dressed to perfection with lush landscaping. Dream homes by any standard. Certainly by mine.

  “Nice neighborhood,” I commented, mentally tabulating the astronomical cost of such gentrified living.

  “Hmm, yes...very nice,” Hannah said absently as she stared out the windshield.

  I glanced in her direction and raised my brow, questioning her noticeable bitterness. She glanced back with a dismissive shrug.

  “I hate it here.” Her eyes swept over me. “Now more than ever.” She turned away and stared out her side window.

  “Right.” I shifted in my seat and tried to ignore her remark. “So, why is that? That you hate it here? I mean, most people would give their right arm to live in a place like this.”

  She folded her arms over her chest with a loud sigh. “You know, all things considered, I’m really not up for polite chit chat, so…if you don’t mind…”

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I know this is uncomfortable for you. It is for me, as well, but…we’re going to be spending a great deal of time together over the next few days.”

  “So?” she said as she turned back to me. “What’s your point?”

  “So…we might as well make the best of it.”

  She chuckled, but it was bitter. “The best of it? Really? Are you kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to make the best of this?” She held her hands out.

  “Well, you might start by being civil.”

  She barked another sarcastic laugh. “Civil? You’re telling me to be civil? The man who nearly raped me?”

  “But I didn’t. Did I?”

  “Only because I stopped you.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped me if I was truly intent on doing it. I stopped myself.”

  “Because I made you see reason! If I had just laid there and taken it, you would have done it. Admit it. You were completely out of control.”

  My knuckles turned white as I gripped the wheel. But she was right; I was out of control. I had no excuse. Though I’d like to think I would have stopped on my own, I could never be certain of that. The thought of how close I had come to destroying us both was devastating. But that was difficult to admit out loud. I sighed instead.

  “I am deeply ashamed of what I’ve done, but…you know I thought you were someone else.”

  “Oh, well, there’s an excuse.”

  “All right, Hannah, I get it, I’m sorry. It’s just… Look, my point is, ignoring each other or arguing all the time, it’s only going to make things even more difficult than they already are. I’m only trying to make this, I don’t know, not so…uncomfortable. It’s not like I expect us to be friends or anything, but—”

  “Oh gee, you think?”

  “…but a little tolerance would be nice,” I finished.

  “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say.”

  “None of this is easy for me! I realize my mistake—”

  “Mistake? Is that all this is to you? A mistake?”

  “No, that’s not what I—”

  “Like something you can simply apologize for and move on?”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Hannah, I’m sorry. I misspoke. What I meant was—”

  “‘Oh, ma’am, I’m so deeply sorry I kicked your door down. I didn’t mean to smash you in the face with a gun. And oh, that part where I almost raped you? My bad. It was all a big mistake.’ That what you meant?”

  “Would you stop? Please. Give me one moment to think.”

  “Oh, so now you want to think.”

  “Godammit! Can’t you see I’m trying here? I know I don’t deserve it, but just…bear with me; cut me a little slack, okay?”

  She shook her head and turned away, holding silent for long pause. “Fine. Whatever.”

  I sighed and waited a moment then asked again. “So, tell me. Why do you hate it here?”

  She peered back at me with narrowed eyes. “Why are you so interested?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I find it hard to understand what you could possibly dislike about living in a place like this. It’s what most people aspire to in your country, isn’t it?”

  “My country?”

  “Well, anywhere, really. Everywhere. But here more than anywhere else, I suppose. So, what is it about this place? I’m just curious, because my wife would have given anything to live here or at least a place like this anyway.”

  She pondered her answer for a minute. “Yes…well…try as I might, I just don’t seem to…fit in here. I wish I’d never left my little house back home.” She kept her face turned away, disregarding me entirely.

  “Back home? And where would that be?”

  She sighed again. “Anywhere but here,” she said under her breath, but then reconsidered. She turned to look out the windshield. “We moved up here from the Bay Area. All right? Satisfied?”

  I smiled. “I live in The City…San Francisco. I’ve always loved it there. At least, I used to. Before.” My smile faded away.

  She continued to ignore me. The silence lingered uncomfortably between us. It was like being stuck in a crowded elevator with a bunch of strangers, on a slow crawl up a tall building, waiting for the door to open. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her knees, and she kept eyeing the central door lock mounted in the center of the dash. I worried she mig
ht try to jump out. I kept my left hand over the driver door locks, just in case. I searched for things to talk about, hoping it would ease the tension which seemed to swell as the seconds ticked by.

  “You know, I don’t think you should change who you are just because you’ve changed your address,” I reasoned out loud.

  “Is that so? Hmm. Strange, my husband doesn’t agree. But then he was hardly ever home.” Again, she eyed me with a contemptuous glare.

  I focused back on the road, contemplating her character. She was not what I expected. Money obviously hadn’t bought her any happiness. The silence settled in again, growing nearly unbearable as we both stared out onto the road before us. Five, six, seven quiet minutes ticked by, each one more unbearable than the one before

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her mood a bit calmer and her posture more relaxed.

  “Down the hill, off The Plateau. I have a room at a motel near the freeway. I need to see my brother.”

  “Your brother? Is that who you were talking to on the phone?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Hmm, and what is he going to think when you tell him about me, I mean...that I’m not Erin?” Hannah looked at me with concern creasing her forehead.

  I turned back to her again. Worry nagging at me, as well. “I don’t know. I need to explain everything to him. He’ll understand, I think.” I faced the road. “I hope.”

  As I said the words, my stomach knotted up. Neither one of them would understand the quandary I now found myself in. I’d made the situation impossibly dangerous for us all. Dmitri would hunt us all down mercilessly. Nick, pleading ignorance, might be able to extricate himself, but I doubt he would step aside while Dmitri dealt with me.

  And Hannah. God, when I thought about what would become of her, it made me sick inside. Of course, the obvious fix would be to find Erin and turn her over to them, but after all the pain and humiliation I’d caused Hannah, I found that I’d lost my appetite for that kind of revenge, or any kind, actually. I recognized the immoral road my bitterness had led me down, and I was hard-pressed to identify the man I once was within the villain I had become.

  I reasoned the alcohol had clouded my judgment, but in reality, all it really did was dull my pain, making it impossible to empathize with the misery my actions would undoubtedly cause. I was no longer the man Jillian had loved and married. I was appalled at how low I had sunk as I drowned my grief in booze, malevolence pulling me down like an anchor.

  I pulled into the motel lot and parked Hannah’s BMW in front of our room. I fully expected Nick to throw the door open and greet me with anxious questions. That he didn’t, concerned me.

  “Grab your stuff,” I instructed Hannah.

  I was tense and nervous, in turn making Hannah wary. I unlocked the motel room door and slowly pushed it open.

  “Nick?” I called out as I surveyed the empty room. I walked back to the bathroom and opened the door wide. “Nick?” I felt a moment of dread press down on me. I tried to shake it off, hoping he had simply left to get something to eat.

  “He’s not here,” I explained. “He knew I’d be returning, so I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  Hannah scanned the room from the doorway. Her face screwed up in disgust as she spied the beer and alcohol bottles strewn about. She looked up at me, her forehead lined with worry.

  “Sorry for the mess,” I said.

  Embarrassed, I collected the bottles and threw them in the waste basket. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. We glanced at each other, neither of us knowing what to do or say next.

  “Why don’t you throw your stuff down over there,” I suggested.

  Though she eyed the small table and chairs I’d pointed to, she dumped her purse and overnight bag down on the farthest bed and took a seat along its edge, her knees twitching and her fingers drumming. I gathered she was trying to stay as far from me as possible. I reached for the TV and switched it on to drown out the quiet. When I turned back toward Hannah, Nick burst into the room, startling us both. Hannah jumped up and cried out in alarm. Nick looked at me in relief before he focused in on Hannah standing near the rear corner of the room. He scowled at her with the same hatred I imagine must have been on my own face when I kicked in her door. Fear radiated from Hannah as she pressed herself into the corner. When Nick rushed toward her, I jumped over the bed and placed myself between them.

  I pushed my hands against his chest. “Calm down, Nick!”

  He strained forward with his eyes locked onto Hannah. “Get the fuck out of my way, Tyler.” He struggled against me then twisted his body to the side, swinging his arm up and over, trying to break my grip.

  I grabbed him by the arms and thrust him against the wall. “No, Nick, please, settle down. It’s not what you think!”

  He broke his focus on Hannah and frowned at me, confused and indignant.

  “Not what I think? And just what the fuck is that, huh? That she drove your pregnant wife mad, ruined your life, got away with fucking murder?” He sneered at me. “You tell me exactly what I should not think, Tyler.” With his hands tightened into fists at his sides, Nick refocused back on Hannah.

  “Please, just listen to me, okay?” I pressed my forehead against my brother’s and placed my hands on his face, trying desperately to get him to focus on me instead. “Nick, come on, please, look at me. Look at me!” I screamed, and his eyes finally locked onto mine. “I blew it, Nick. I’ve made a horrible mistake. That girl over there, she’s not Erin. She’s Maguire’s wife, Hannah. This is all a terrible mix—”

  “What are you talking about, Ty? Look at her.” His eyes flitted back and forth between us. “That’s her. That’s Erin. Are you so fucking drunk you can’t see that?”

  He broke free, shoved me back a step, and moved to get by me again. I stumbled, still a little buzzed and clumsy, but jumped back in between them. Nick fumed, his eyes burning at us both.

  “Nick, come on, stop. You’re not listening to me!”

  His face blazed red with rage as he pointed his finger at Hannah. “Jillian is dead, and that bitch is to blame. Don’t you forget that, Tyler. Now get the fuck out of my way!”

  “No, Nick, not because of her, I swear. Please, if you’d just let me explain.”

  But he wouldn’t allow reason to break his focus. He struggled with me in his quest to get to Hannah. I pushed him back once more, but he lunged for me. I threw a desperate punch and connected with his jaw. Stunned, he flew back against the wall.

  “Nick, stop.” I stood before him with my fist raised as he held his injured jaw, glaring at me with shock and anger. “Listen to me.” I slowly lowered my fist and straightened my stance. “I’ve made a huge mistake. That is not Erin. She’s Hannah Maguire. She looks remarkably similar to Erin, I know but…this is not her. I have proof. Let me show you, okay?”

  He gaped at me, hearing the words, but not yet believing them. I picked up the folder of photographs and held it open. Then I grabbed Hannah’s purse from the bed and pulled out her wallet, removing her driver’s license. I tossed it into the open folder and held it out to Nick. He took it, though he glared at me in challenge.

  “Look that over carefully,” I told him. “It was prepared by a private investigator hired by Hannah.” I gestured back to Hannah who was still cowering in the corner. “She’s married to Maguire. That sick bastard is having an affair with a woman who looks very much like his own wife. I saw them both that day at the spa and mistook Hannah for Erin. This is all my fault, Nick. I followed the wrong girl.”

  Nick broke away and studied the contents of the file. He looked at the various photos and compared them to the ID then to Hannah who stood ten feet away. Comprehension washed over him as he discovered for himself the horrible misunderstanding. His shoulders slumped downward, his face melting into concern.

  “Oh shit, Ty. Do you realize what this means?”

  Hannah’s breathing grew ragged as she measured the distress emanating from my brother.
Nick let the folder and its contents fall to the floor as he raked his fingers through his hair. We locked eyes.

  “Fuck! We’re dead, Tyler. We’re both fucking dead.”

  I shook my head. “Nick, please, don’t do this right now.”

  He ignored me and started pacing the room. “Ty, you don’t get it. You don’t know them like I do. If you don’t give them the girl, they’ll kill us both...and then they’ll take her anyway.”

  “Nick, please!” I looked back at Hannah and gestured toward the back. “Hannah, get into the bathroom and close the door. Now!”

  Not wasting a second, she took off and slammed the bathroom door. I stepped toward Nick and lowered my voice.

  “I know this looks bad, but…we have to stay calm. I can’t handle her if she becomes any more hysterical. I’ve already…hurt her. Pretty badly, too. I lost control, Nick. Completely. I’ve… done something…or rather, I almost did something. Something terrible. And this poor girl, she’s…she’s innocent. She’s done nothing wrong, yet she’s paid a very steep price regardless.”

  Confusion crawled across his face. “What does that mean? What have you done?” When I didn’t answer, he became angry. “Ty, what the fuck did you do? Tell me!”

  I simply stared back, willing him to understand so I wouldn’t have to speak the offensive words aloud. As he held my focus, a dim light of understanding sparked within him. With his mouth hanging open, he stepped back from me, as if I disgusted him.

  “Oh God, Tyler. Tell me you didn’t. You wouldn’t.” He shook his head and chuckled with a nervous smile, but it melted away as he stared into my eyes.

  I reached out to him. “No, Nick, I didn’t, but… I almost did. And I swear, I would have if…” I began, but I couldn’t admit the truth, so I dropped my hand.

  “Ty, most of that crap we talked about, they were just fantasies, to help you get through the pain. I mean, getting rid of the girl is one thing, but…doing that shit yourself? God! I can’t believe you…of all people…”