We Will Always Have the Closet

by Natalina Reis

  “But he was best friends with Liam. How could he do that to him?” she asked, her voice a bit too high.

  “Oh my God! You are so naïve.” Cackling again like a witch, Alina’s beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of hate. “He was never Liam’s friend. That British idiot was pretty and talented, I will give him that—perfect to make Jonas look good in the art world and to make his dealings look and feel legitimate. Linden used him like he used everybody around him to serve his own grand purposes.”

  Rubbing her face in disbelief, Petra glanced around, frantically trying to locate Liam. “So, you were used also, I guess,” she said, not being able to find her friend.

  “Hell no,” the other woman exclaimed. “I’m just like him. I know how to manipulate you people in order to get what I want. Linden and I are evolved beings that have no use for schmucks like you, other than to help us achieve our goals. And our goal was to get very rich, very quickly.”

  “Jonas was already extremely wealthy,” Petra said. “Why did he need any more money?”

  Alina let out a sigh of exasperation. “This is why you will never amount to anything. There is no such thing as enough money, dear.”

  Silence fell between them for a few moments. Petra had finally located Liam, sitting a couple tables away, his back turned to them. She could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way his head was tilted that he was listening to every word. “So, you were with Jonas in this recent romantic getaway, weren’t you?”

  “Of course not,” she exclaimed in a huff. “There was no romantic getaway. He was peddling some stolen art up in Canada. I wouldn’t have missed seeing you fall down that staircase for anything in this world.”

  Petra’s body stiffened. Unwittingly, Alina had just given her a piece of information she didn’t have before. She had seen Alina at the galleria after all. Had she pushed Petra, like Sam had always suspected?

  “You were there when I fell?” she exclaimed, noticing a tiny movement from Liam’s table. He had heard the startling revelation as well.

  Alina stood up suddenly, eyes shadowed in disdain. “You were right about one thing. Jonas is incapable of coming up with a viable criminal act. Nobody’s perfect, I guess. Like an artist, he needed a muse…I was his muse. Do you get it now, you ridiculous excuse for a woman?”

  Petra watched Alina leave. Liam was by her side as soon as the door closed behind the viper. Petra was paralyzed by shock. When the artist laid his hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of her trance. “Holy crap, Liam,” she exclaimed, finding her voice again. “Did you hear that?”

  His lips were squeezed tight in a grim line. “I heard every word,” he admitted. “We need to go to the police. She needs to pay for her crimes as much as Jonas. Sam is going to flip when he finds out she had a hand in your fall.”

  “How do you think she did it? I wasn’t pushed, I’m positive,” she said, meeting his somber eyes.

  “Didn’t you say you slipped on something that night?” Everything was making more sense now. Alina must have placed something on one of the steps so that Petra would slip and fall. She knew where Petra was headed. It had only been a question of getting there first and hiding. Her loft was much closer to the galleria than Petra’s house; it had been simple. It was also sinister. Shivers coursed through her body. Liam slid an arm over her shoulders and pulled her gently to him. “Let’s go. We need to tell Sam about this.”

  Sam was livid when they relayed the whole story to him. “I always suspected your accident at the galleria was caused by someone else,” he said. “But I never thought Alina had anything to do with it. The woman is diabolical, much worse than Jonas. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  He called the entities he had been working with and told them the news. With the promise he would write a detailed report of all the events coming to light, Sam hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Across the living room, Petra, sitting hunched over and clutching her stomach, watched him. Liam was beside her on the couch, his hand holding hers. There was a time when Sam would have been jealous, Petra knew, but the Brit had proved himself to be trustworthy again and again. It was good to have such a good friend, especially in light of the new events.

  “You call me if you need anything,” Liam was saying to her. He looked up at Sam. “Do you want me to write down all I heard today?”

  Sam nodded. “That would be great. Thanks, Liam,” he said, thanking him for a lot more than the written report. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “No, thanks,” Liam stood up. “I better go. I have a few works to finish in the studio. I have a new model coming today.”

  After he left, Sam sat by Petra, who had been unusually quiet. “Are you okay?”

  To his surprise, she smiled. “I actually am,” she admitted. “In spite of everything, I feel vindicated somehow. Two bad apples out of my cart, I guess. Now I can concentrate on being happy.”

  Sam’s jaw muscles relaxed and his emerald eyes danced as he leaned over to kiss her. “You are not half bad as a sleuth,” he whispered in her ear. Her crystalline laughter filled the room, bringing out a smile of his own. He kissed her again, and she yielded to his lips with such passion, his body shook with desire.

  “You know you have some strong magic powers, right?” he whispered, his mouth still touching hers. Her body shook gently with laughter. “No kidding! You have the power to melt my bones into mush and make my brain reel in confusion and want. You are a witch, Sleeping Beauty.” Their lips interlocked again, and as if to prove what he had just said, they gave in to the strange delight of losing themselves in each other.

  The phone rang, yanking her out of her reverie. Groaning a little, Sam stretched his arm to pick the phone from the coffee table. His employers wanted him to come in town to further clarify the new evidence against Linden and his girlfriend. They were moving as fast as they could, but they needed to be one-hundred percent certain about some things before proceeding with Alina’s arrest.

  “I want to stay right here in your arms,” Sam said with a groan. “But I have to go.” He shook himself off and left with the promise of coming back as soon as he could. “Stay where you are,” he had said, half-jokingly. “I want to be reminded of where we left off when I come back.”

  ***

  Petra

  As soon as he left, the house felt empty. Petra got up and wandered aimlessly from room to room looking for something, anything, to fill the void Sam left when he had walked out the door. Snap out of it, woman! He will be back, she chided herself, finally opting for a walk along the Sound.

  Having put on a heavier jacket and her mud boots, Petra decided at the last minute to leave a note for Sam, letting him know where she was. She decided against taking the small stun gun she had purchased when she first moved in that house. The solitary location made arriving home after dark eerie at best, at least for the first few months. After a while she wasn’t scared anymore and the taser consistently stayed in its drawer in the bedroom.

  Christmas was approaching quickly and the temperature had dropped quite a bit in the last few days. There was still no snow other than in the mountain peaks, but the air certainly felt thin and icy. She silently gave thanks for her down jacket and thermal socks. As cold as it was, there was not a cloud in the blue sky. The sun shone gloriously above the sparkling waters, turning the Sound into a giant mirror reflecting the mountains and trees in all their majesty. Petra took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with the purity of the cold air.

  Some distance away she noticed something bobbing in the water, right by the nearest bank. Curious. She had no neighbors for a few miles each way and she had never seen any fishermen close by. Her step quickened as her curiosity grew. The closer she came to the mysterious object, the surer she was it was a small dinghy. But where was its owner? Still advancing toward it, Petra looked around for someone but found nobody.

  The small boat had been carelessly tied to the trunk of a tree and was rocking gently in the
quiet waters of that part of the Sound. Inside she could see a bottle of water, almost empty, and a lighter discarded on the bottom. She pulled on the rope, preventing the dinghy from drifting away until it was half wedged on solid ground. She pocketed the lighter and scanned the terrain around her again for signs of life. Hearing a sound behind her, Petra turned her head around but never had the chance to see where the noise was coming from. Something heavy hit her across the head. She felt herself fall as darkness took over her senses.

  When she came to, she was lying on the bottom of a boat. Not sure of how long she had been unconscious, Petra opened her eyes slowly, suddenly aware of a pounding pain on the side of her head. Her trembling fingers touched her head and came back bloodied. She could feel the warm wetness rolling down the side of her face onto her neck. Confused, she tried to sit up, but a shod foot pushed her down to the floor again. “What do you want?” she managed to ask, not sure whom she was talking to.

  “Stay down, bitch,” she heard a female voice say. Recognition hit her as hard as a punch; Alina’s voice was unmistakable in its silkiness and tone. “Or I will hit you again.”

  Petra kept quiet. She felt too dizzy to make much sense anyway, and it was probably more sensible to avoid saying anything that might trigger Alina’s rage. She could taste salt in her mouth and her fingertips were cold and achy. What was Alina doing? What did she expect to accomplish by doing this? Making herself lay still, Petra tried to relax, but her head was throbbing and she was shaking convulsively. Oh God, am I going into shock? Her eyelids felt heavy and her lips and nose were tingling. She didn’t want to give Alina the satisfaction of dying. Fight it, fight it!

  The boat had stopped, bumping into the sand bank. Petra was vaguely aware that Alina had stood up and jumped off onto solid ground. Her eyes just wouldn’t open fully, no matter how much she willed them to do so. She guessed rather than heard the other woman come back into the boat and roughly drag her onto the bank. Petra’s legs slid and hit the edge of the boat but she barely felt it. Her whole body was numb from the cold and the blood loss. Alina dragged her for a few minutes before dropping her unceremoniously on a cold patch of dirt. The rough texture of the earth underneath her gave Petra hope somehow. She felt suddenly connected to something bigger and more powerful than herself or Alina, a sort of primal connection that warmed her blood and gave her a little of her strength back.

  Deciding against revealing her sudden renewal of energy to her once-friend, Petra observed her through half-closed lids without moving. Let her think she was unconscious. Alina was crouching not too far from her, a singularly weird stance for one so graceful and chic. In a different situation, Petra would have chuckled at her formal friend’s outfit—old baggy jeans paired with a WSU sweatshirt and old, muddy sneakers. She had no coat, a very unwise choice considering it was getting colder by the minute. What Petra saw tightly held in her hand petrified her—Alina was clutching a handgun and pointing it in her direction. She was going to kill her; Petra knew now with all certainty. She wanted to eliminate all witnesses and she was still not aware Liam had witnessed their conversation. Thank God for that at least. Otherwise, Liam might have been lying unconscious by her right now as well. The other woman was obviously waiting for her to wake up, as if she wanted to make sure Petra knew who was about to end her life. What was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this alive? She couldn’t just lay there playing dead and hope that Sam would come to her rescue. He had no reason to think she was in any danger.

  “Wake up,” Alina screamed in an atypical shrill voice. “This is no fun if I can’t make you squirm.” Petra’s eyes stayed firmly shut and her body unmoving. “Wake up!” Her foot found Petra’s hip in a cruel kick that sent ripples of pain throughout her leg and back, but she bit her lip and kept quiet.

  Petra was afraid that sooner or later, in her madness Alina would shoot her. She had to do something quick. Surreptitiously, she looked around her, searching for something she could use as a weapon. A large piece of driftwood was laying just below her elbow. If she could stretch her arm just a little, she could easily grab a hold of it and hide it under her jacket. Her arms were numb with the cold, and the fact she had been lying on them for a while, so she wiggled her fingers, trying to bring some blood flow to them again while she continued to watch the other woman from underneath her lids. Alina was now pacing back and forth, talking to herself in sheer madness. If only she would turn her back on her for a few seconds, Petra would be able to get the wood. As if on cue, Alina suddenly turned around and walked toward the water. This was her chance. As quickly as her sore arms would allow her, she reached for the driftwood and hid it under her oversized jacket before Alina was aware of it. The madwoman turned around again and now walked decidedly toward Petra, who shivered in fear.

  Grabbing Petra by one arm, Alina pulled her up as far as she could. “Get up,” she yelled, tucking the gun into her waistband to free the other hand. Petra saw her opportunity as the other woman placed her hands under her arms and proceeded to pull her up. Petra allowed her head to loll around as if she was still unconscious, but her hand had gone to the piece of driftwood hidden inside the jacket. She had one shot at this, she couldn’t mess it up. Alina was not going to give her a second chance. Spurred by this knowledge and the anger she felt, Petra waited for the right opportunity and swiftly jumped to her feet, surprising Alina into stillness just long enough to hit her over the head with the driftwood. Her graceful body fell to the ground lifeless, and Petra, not wanting to make the mistake Alina had just made, jumped into action—she took hold of the gun and removed one of the laces from Alina’s sneakers. She tied the other woman’s hands behind her back. Only then did she allow herself to sit on the cold ground and take a breath.

  Her breathing slowed down eventually as she sat watching the prostrate figure of her former friend. Still numb from shock and fear, she took another shoelace and tied Alina’s feet as well. She wasn’t going to take any risks. Now what? She looked around, not sure what she expected to find. If only the fairies were real. Daylight was dying fast, and the idea of having to drive the small boat in the dark was daunting. She was shaking so much, she doubted she had the strength to even untie the rope that anchored the dinghy to the tree. The adrenaline surge she had felt a few minutes before was now leaving her faint and despondent. Her body dropped to the ground again and she was racked by great big sobs as she finally gave herself permission to grieve. How was she going to get out of there? The air was getting increasingly colder and she was very thirsty. She remembered the half-empty bottle of water she had seen inside the dinghy, and wiping her tears with her sleeve, got up to retrieve it. With a glint of growing hope, she remembered the lighter she had put in her pocket. I can build a fire. Sam would see it, she was sure, and then maybe he would come and get her.

  Making a fire out of damp driftwood and leaves wasn’t easy, but eventually she managed to get a small fire going. The heat and light it provided was comforting. Alina was still unconscious. For a scary moment, Petra thought she might have killed her, but her pulse was strong. Better that she just sleep through it. Petra was not looking forward to hearing her voice ever again. Exhausted, her body was begging her for sleep, but Petra knew that it wasn’t safe to fall asleep with her wanna-be-murderer lying so close to her. It didn’t matter that she was tied up. Petra was not going to be fooled again. Her former friend was psychotic and capable of anything, so she sat hugging herself against the cold and the darkness, humming a song to keep herself from crying.

  ***

  Sam

  Sam returned home late afternoon to find the note that Petra had left him on the kitchen counter. Strange. It was already dark outside and Petra didn’t normally venture out by herself. Sam stepped out and began walking along the paths she normally used, hoping to come across her. The place was eerily quiet, and the typical northwestern early darkness, like a black curtain, had descended thick and gloomy upon the land. After scouring the area for almos
t an hour, Sam began to panic. In spite of the cold, beads of sweat covered his forehead and the sound of his heart drumming in his chest was deafening. Where are you, Petra?

  Scanning the area again, he noticed a faint light in the distance, on one of the islets of the Sound. Could that be her? And if so, what in heaven’s name was she doing there? No, she would have never stomached a crossing by herself, as squeamish as she was about boats. If that was her, someone had taken her there. Not wanting to waste any time, Sam got in his car and drove down to his friend’s shack to borrow the boat. The crossing over to the islet was a short trip but it felt like forever. As the boat approached the island, he identified the light as that of a small fire.

  As soon as the boat hit firm land, Sam jumped off the boat and looked around in the darkness. “Petra,” he called, panic in his voice, “Where are you?”

  A small figure emerged from behind the small fire and staggered in his direction. “My God, are you okay?” She fell into his arms as relief washed over his whole body and soul. His warm arms enveloped her in a loving embrace. “Are you hurt?” he asked, searching her face for answers.

  Petra stumbled in his arms, dizzy and weak, and Sam noticed for the first time the dried blood on her scalp and face. “You’re bleeding.” he exclaimed, his fingers gently examining the wound. “What happened? Who did this?”

  “I’m all right, really I am…” she replied, hanging on to him as to a lifeline. “Alina…she did this. She wanted to kill me.”

  Sam hadn’t seen Alina’s body lying nearby, still unconscious. “Is she dead?” he asked, not overly concerned.

  “No, I hit her over the head with a piece of wood and she’s been unconscious for a while.” Now that Sam was there, she was recovering her strength. But she did not seem prepared for Sam’s reaction. He squeezed her against him as if he was afraid she may float away and fiercely kissed her, stealing her breath away.