by Leanne Davis
She wandered into her closet, and all the clothes were put away. She smelled her clothes, the ones she knew were on the floor and filthy. Now they smelled like flowery fabric softener.
She stepped into the living room, and it was the same. All the clutter was picked up and scrubbed. Even the floor. He cleaned the hardwood floor that ran throughout her home, and all the spills she had left during her drugged stupor.
Chet cleaned, scrubbed, and washed her entire house, along with half of her wardrobe and most of her dishes. And he made her dinner.
She swallowed and shoveled more food in. What was this? Why did he do that? Why did no one else look after her but Chet?
She lowered the fork. Why had no one else helped her? She wasn’t hiding how much she had struggled. She needed help. Desperately. For the first time in her life, she knew she was a total mess in need of help.
But she and her mom hadn’t spoken for days. Last time was by phone, and the conversation was strained. They had nothing to say to each other. What could they do, discuss how much they missed Ebony? It hurt. So much.
She scooped more food into her mouth, but needed water. She let the tap run cold and stuck a clean glass under it before swallowing several mouthfuls. Her kitchen overlooked the backyard. It was open and the streetlights out front lit the room up despite the drapes. Passing headlights created strange shadows on her ceiling. She didn’t have to turn on the lights so she didn’t. Setting the glass down, she finished the meal Chet left for her and set the empty Tupperware in the sink, rinsing it out and placing it in the dishwasher. She almost congratulated herself for her efforts. Look at her. She didn’t leave it on the counter this time.
Sighing, she was unsure what to do. Being wide awake now, she couldn’t imagine going back to sleep. But what could she do at only 3:17 in the morning? It was worse than being awake during the daylight. Everything ached, from her limbs, to her head, to her heart. She leaned her head against the refrigerator door and turned it back and forth. Maybe she was losing her mind. Boredom, sadness, and total apathy plagued her as she lifted her forehead and set it down three times, smacking it loudly on the door. Not hard enough to hurt her, but she finally turned when a sound caught her attention.
Her head still against the door, she lifted it slowly before everything froze inside. All those achy parts were suddenly numbed. A shadow crossed her front living room picture window. She didn’t imagine that. It wasn’t any cat or dog either. No way. It was much too big. It was human-sized. Bigger than she was too. Like the shape of an average man. The noise? It was a jiggling metal sound. Like someone pressing on her front door handle.
She looked up at the thought. Remembering the last several nights when she hadn’t locked anything, she rushed forward and a wave of relief flashed through her. Chet locked it. But had she heard someone? She wasn’t imagining it. The shadow was now at her back sliding door, just a few feet from where she was. Her heartbeat accelerated like a piston in her chest and she backed into the fiberglass of her front door, tightly pressing into it. Her breathing increased as she stared across the semi-darkened space. The sliding door was being pulled on! Holy shit! The door was being gently, but firmly pulled on. It was as if whoever walked up fully expected it to be open. Why? Because it had been open for the past several nights and off and on, haphazardly, throughout the last few weeks. Ever since her sister’s murdered body was found and identified.
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth to stifle the urge to scream. Fright immobilized her. She heard a soft thump. Someone kicked the flower pot to the side of the door. She was sure of it. She knew that sound because she’d done it herself before. Her blinds were all tightly shut, thank God! Only a thin wall served as her protection, but at least whoever was lurking around, trying to break inside, didn’t know she was standing right there. The only possible point of entry was the garage. She dropped down on all fours and crawled towards the small laundry room. Beside her washer and dryer was the door to the garage. It was locked. Chet. Oh, dear God, thank God for Chet. She stood up, and quietly unlocked the door while tugging it a crack open and peeking out into darkness. The garage door was firmly down. There were no other doors. She leaned her head against the wall, wilting with fear but grateful to know she was securely locked in.
She had no car. The empty garage reminded her of that. She was stuck there. A sitting duck. Her breathing escalated and her heart hammered loudly in her ear. Anyone close would have been able to hear it, she was sure. Where was the shadow? The lurking monster? The person trying to get into her home? Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. No! Fucking no! All she did anymore was cry. And be useless. No more! Someone was trying to break into her house, right now. She refused to be a stupid woman just waiting there for it to happen. She quickly crawled back across her kitchen, grabbing the sharpest butcher knife she had. Careful to keep it pointed away from her, she slipped into her bedroom where she closed the door, locking it. There was a high window near the ceiling. It let in lots of light, but was not low enough to see through. She grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand, and again thanked Chet. He must have put it there, because she didn’t even know where she left it.
She quickly entered her bathroom and shut the door, locking it and trying to barricade herself. With shaking hands, she set the knife down and quickly dialed the first person she thought of. Someone that she knew would come for her.
“It’s me. Someone’s trying to break into the house.”
Ryder’s voice was confused at first. Obviously, he’d been woken from a dead sleep. “Chloe?”
“Yes. Yes. Come quickly. Someone’s outside, and trying all my doors.”
She heard shuffling and muttering as he said, “Lock yourself in the bathroom.”
“I am, with a butcher knife in my hand.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Don’t—don’t hang up. I—I’m terrified.”
“I can’t drive and talk safely. Call the police.”
“You are the only police I want.”
“Okay. I’ve got your garage door opener. I’ll use that. There’s only… Tara here if you want to stay on the line.”
Chloe’s heart froze. She banged her head against the rim of her tub. She knew she caused this. “Okay.”
He didn’t gloat or point out the obvious. “I’ll take her cell with me. Here she is.”
He covered the phone and must have explained the crazy-assed call to Tara. She came on immediately. “Are you okay, Chloe?”
Tara’s tone was strong and frightened and concerned for her. Chloe kept her forehead on the tub rim as she shook her head back and forth in shame. “Yes.”
Silence, then a firm. “No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” she finally conceded as she started to cry again.
“Oh, Chloe, this is the last thing you need on top of finding out about Ebony’s murder.”
She lifted her head surprised Tara dug right into it. She sucked down the rise of her tears. “Tara, I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”
Tara let out a short laugh. “You were such a bitch.”
For some reason Tara’s response made her let out a laugh too. It was odd to be laughing at a time like this. She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore.”
“I do. Your sister died. You’re hurting.”
“It doesn’t make it okay.”
“It makes it understandable.”
“It wasn’t. It really wasn’t okay. I just hurt so much and you’re an easy target—”
“I am. I was for Ryder too.”
Chloe jerked upright. That was news to her. “I hope you reamed his ass out. Because you haven’t mine and I deserve it.”
She snorted and laughed, but both were soft and unassuming, kind of like Tara’s entire demeanor. Chloe realized with a wince that was part of what first made her like and hire Tara. She liked how Tara’s demeanor fit her. “In my way I did. I’m not a loud or vocal person. But I do
n’t need to be to get my point across and I’m comfortable Ryder and you were acting out of grief and confusion towards me, not specifically because of who I am, but because I took over the role in Ryder’s life that Ebony once had. It’s been confusing for you both. I can understand that and forgive misguided anger and emotions.”
Chloe’s eyes filled with yet again, fresh tears. She squeezed the phone to her ear. “Thank you, Tara. It wasn’t you. You were just so easy to take it all out on. Which of course, isn’t right. I clearly used to know the difference. But I can’t… I just can’t seem to get a grip.”
“I don’t know that I could if I were you either. If this was about Tristan, my sibling that I love, I would be as lost and hurting as you are. What’s happening now?”
Sucking in a breath, Chloe lifted her head and listened. She was whispering and had been for the entire call. “I hear nothing.”
“You must be terrified. Ryder already left. He’s on his way.”
“Thank you for not hanging up on me.”
“I wouldn’t. Not now. Hold tough, Chloe. He’ll be there.”
She closed her eyes, gripping the knife tightly. “Talk to me about something else.”
“Umm… okay. What about Wyatt? Did you hear what he told Ryder about where babies come from? Thank God it was all wrong and he didn’t seem too interested in finding out if he were right or wrong.”
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly as she listened to Tara talking about Wyatt. Taking in huge lungfuls of air to staunch the panic in her racing heart that was commanding her, no, begging her to flee, she fought the urge to fling open the front door and run. Sitting there and waiting like a freaking decoy was miserable, but the thought of opening the door to someone who was right outside, as they already were, made her shudder with horror. Oh, no. No way. She could not do that.
She glanced up when she heard the rumbling of her garage door. Ryder. Her entire body collapsed with relief. “He’s here.”
“Stay on the phone with me until you confirm it’s him.”
She did. His voice called her name several times before he started knocking on the bathroom door. “It’s Ryder, Chloe.”
“Go now. I’ll talk to you later,” Tara said. A newfound bubble of appreciation arose in Chloe for the woman she tried to fire less than twenty-four hours ago.
She unlocked the door and opened it before flinging herself at Ryder. Her heart was still racing and her body trembling now that she felt safe. He patted her shoulders. “Hey, hey I’m here now.” He looked at her carefully. “So start at the beginning. Tell me what you saw.”
She let him go and walked to the kitchen to retrace the entire event. She flipped on all the lights and let the place blaze in illumination, fighting off the eeriness of the last hour. She shuddered, picturing her helplessness and vulnerability of being alone with someone nefarious outside. Trying to break into her locked house. It could not have been anyone with good or decent intentions.
Ryder thoroughly inspected the front and back doors. Wearing gloves, he was careful not to touch anything. He walked all around her yard, using his flashlight to scan back and forth. She huddled inside, worried for him, amazed at the guts it took to go outside and do that, just looking around for someone up to no good. She could never manage to do his job. She was already shaking and quivering while Ryder searched the darkness for her boogie man.
He came back in, and was careful to lock the door from the inside. “I don’t see signs of anything, Chloe. No scratch marks on the locks. I don’t think anyone messed with them. There’re no signs of anyone peering into your windows or any oddball footprints. I’ll come back tomorrow and re-inspect the grounds in the daylight, but I don’t see anything now. Do you want me to call it in? Make it official?”
“Someone was there. I heard them. Twice. At both doors. I saw their shadow crossing the front window and then popping up right there.”
He nodded with hands on his hips. “Did you take the pills on your nightstand?”
Her shoulders dropped. The sleeping pills. “No. Not tonight, Ryder.”
“You’ve been under unbearable stress. I shouldn’t have announced what I did with Tara to you.”
“Getting engaged? I didn’t call your house to drag you over here in middle of the night because I was trying to get back at you for Tara. This wasn’t about Tara. It wasn’t about anything, actually. Not even Ebony. It was sheer panic. Fear. There was someone here, Ryder. Someone that seemed to expect to walk right in…” Her voice trailed off. He nodded as if he believed her, but she distinctly sensed he did not. He thought she was going crazy or being emotional again and trying to pull him away from Tara.
“I shouldn’t have done what I did today to Tara. Believe me, I realize it now. I overreacted and many people have told me about it.” She shook her head. Only from the most unlikely and unexpected of sources did that get through to her: Chet. “But there was someone out there.”
He stepped forward and hugged her but she nearly tore away from him, she was so offended that he didn’t believe her. She could feel his pity oozing off him. She stiffened in disdain. This wasn’t a call for emotional help. It was a call for physical help. But Ryder didn’t believe her. “I’m glad you called me. You always can. No matter what. Even now with Tara living there.”
“She won’t be fired and I won’t give her anymore shit. I was out of my mind and might have continued to be, but I’m rechanneling it now. And working on it. I don’t need your attention, Ryder. I only called you because you’re a cop.”
He nodded. “Why don’t you grab some things for overnight? You can’t stay here alone. Especially without any transportation. Your car at the café?”
“Yes. Chet gave me a ride after my colossal meltdown.”
He took the news in stride, without a visible reaction on his face, which she thought was good. He didn’t seem to care that she was with Chet. She let out a breath of relief. Good. One less worry. “It should be light in another hour. I’ll be okay.”
“No. You won’t. I’ll stay here.”
“And do what? Babysit me?”
“Yeah.”
She sighed as she flopped down on the sofa. “A detective called and wants me to come in tomorrow to discuss Ebony.”
“I’ll take you there.”
It was on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to decline the offer but pettiness wouldn’t do her any favors. Ryder knew the people and the system best. He’d become her best asset and help her calm her unruly nerves. She’d done nothing wrong, so there was no reason at all for her nerves to bother her.
“Fine.”
“Chloe, it will be hard. They’ll just want to talk about Ebony’s routine, her habits, anything she might have said or done differently at the time when she disappeared. Even if you didn’t think it odd at the time, knowing what we do now, they’ll want to get a better picture of her life, including her mental and emotional states. Anything to help give them some idea as to what might have happened to her.”
“Might have?”
Wincing, he sat down, facing her. His voice was low and soothing. “You know this won’t be easy. No matter what. I’ll take you and your parents.”
“You have a life to get on with.”
“Chloe Carrington, for God’s sake. I’m part of this too. They want me in there tomorrow morning. I haven’t checked out on you all. I just added Tara to the equation. Stop with the theatrics. Okay? I’m here. As always.”
She stared at her fingers, folding them together. “Someone pointed out to me that I might not have wanted you sexually but I treated you as if you were my significant other in many ways.”
“I think we both did that.”
“I never wanted you in any sexual way.”
“Nor I you.”
“I took that out on Tara.”
“So did I a little too.”
She let out a laugh. “I just learned that from her.”
“Yeah. I got a little irration
al with her when we started to date and grow closer. It was hard to get used to being with someone new. It was hard for me to experience someone other than Ebony. It’s been hard for me to move on from her, too, Chloe. That isn’t something you cornered the market on. I loved her. I never wanted to lose her. But Tara took me by surprise. I had some bad moments of adjustment. She’s been pretty patient about it. Knowing that Ebony was murdered has totally fucked with my head. I’m just lucky Tara could forgive me.”
“It’s fucked with mine too. I don’t know why Tara forgave me so easily. I don’t think I deserve it.”
He nodded. “I think Tara gets that, and she sympathizes and can accept it. Not to say she’d tolerate being a punching bag after this.”
“I won’t do it anymore.”
Ryder shared a small smile with her. “If it’s any consolation I had to make the exact same apology and vow. I didn’t mean to do it to her. I was so mean to her and she was so forgiving towards me.”
“And me.”
“It’s a life-changing loss. You’ll have to forgive yourself for the uncontrollable pain you have as well.”
Her stomach cramped at the thought of ever moving past this. She could not imagine. But she knew she had to find a better way than blaming others for moving on with their lives without her sister. Including Ryder and Wyatt. Of course they would move on. Life always does.