Killer Swell nb-1

by Jeff Shelby

  “I don’t know, Noah,” Emily said, shaking her head slowly. “I watched her get upset and angry. I became irate with her when she wouldn’t do anything about it. But I couldn’t make her leave him. There was something there and I never figured out what it was.”

  “So it was always different women?” I said, focusing on my words, making sure the bourbon stayed quiet.

  “Until the end, yeah,” she said, pushing her glass back and forth. “But the last few months, Kate gave me the impression that he might’ve developed a relationship with someone.”

  “The impression?”

  Emily wiggled her hand in the air. “She wouldn’t come out and say it directly. I think maybe it hurt too much. It was just the feeling that I had.”

  “Do you think she knew who it was?”

  Emily paused, staring at her glass on the table for a moment. Then she said, “Yeah, I do.”

  We sat there, the breeze and fog surrounding us. I felt sorry for Kate, even though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I wasn’t able to help her or because it sounded like she’d gotten herself into a situation that she didn’t know how to get out of.

  I had sympathy for Randall, too, but for him, I knew why. Because the next time I saw him, I was going to kick his ass.

  20

  Emily asked me to drive her home because the gin had worked its magic on her. The bourbon had tried to do its thing with me, but I was gallantly fighting it off.

  Her town house was in Del Mar, several miles up the coast from La Jolla. We took Torrey Pines Drive north, canopied by the giant trees, past the Scripps Institute and through the UCSD campus, and then fell onto Camino Del Mar, a thin strip of the old Pacific Coast Highway that let us glide right next to the moonlit water.

  “When did you buy the town house?” I asked, guiding the Jeep over State Beach.

  “Two years ago,” she replied, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “Nearly got married and then after we called it off, I dumped what little money I had into it.”

  “Why didn’t the wedding happen?”

  “We both chickened out two days before,” she said, smiling ruefully. “It was the right thing to do. Neither of us wanted to be married. We were going through the motions more for show, I guess. Got caught up in the whole process and then didn’t back out when we both knew we should’ve.”

  I changed lanes. “Your mom pissed?”

  She laughed and tucked her blond hair behind her ear. “Mom came out of the womb pissed. I have only been able to add to it.”

  I remembered Kate having said something similar in high school, but I couldn’t recall her exact words. There was always conversation about how her mom was regularly angry and unsatisfied.

  Emily directed me off Camino Del Mar and up Carmel Valley Road to a cluster of stark white town houses perched at the top of a small hill just north of Torrey Pines State Beach. The homes were square and angular, something you might see above the Mediterranean.

  “Come in for a second,” Emily said. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  I parked the car in the alley next to her garage. We took a narrow and steep set of stairs up to her door, which allowed me to notice that Emily possessed very nice legs.

  I told the bourbon to shut up.

  Her home was bright and modern. Blond wood served as the floor, an expensive-looking cream rug covering a portion of it in the middle of her living room. A black leather sofa rested against the one wall, affording a great view of the water to the west through floor-to-ceiling windows. A glass table centered the room, two tall bookshelves decorated with books and pictures resting on either side of the sofa.

  “Another drink?” Emily asked, kicking off her shoes and heading toward the black-and-white kitchen that opened into the living room.

  I knew that I shouldn’t. I already felt awkward, a result of being at Emily’s place and stealing glances at her legs.

  “I think I’ve got some bourbon in here somewhere,” she said, opening a cabinet.

  Dammit. “Sure. That’s fine.”

  I walked to the sliding door. A small terrace extended off the windows, two chairs and a table looking lonely on it.

  “This is a great place,” I said, watching the water roll under the moon.

  “I bought it from a friend who moved to Boston,” Emily responded, setting two glasses on the kitchen counter and filling them with ice. “She had to get rid of it quick. Only way I could’ve afforded it.”

  I walked over to look at the bookcases. Several pictures of Kate looked back at me. One was of her wedding day, Emily the maid of honor. Kate looked remarkable in a brilliant white gown with a matching smile. Randall stood next to her, tall, handsome, confident. It was the first picture of Kate that I’d seen in eleven years, and I couldn’t rid myself of this tremendous sense of loss.

  “Here,” Emily said, coming up next to me and handing me a glass. She nodded at the picture. “Seems like a million years ago.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “She mentioned you that day.”

  I took a sip of the drink, the bourbon smoothing its way down my throat. “Her wedding day?”

  Emily nodded. “Yeah. We were getting ready. I was helping her fasten her necklace and she said she wondered what you were doing.”

  It was an odd thing to hear, and I didn’t know how to respond. I stared at the picture again.

  “She should’ve called me,” I said quietly.

  “Noah,” Emily said, putting a hand on my arm and reading my thoughts. “Do not for a second think any of this could be your fault.”

  I took another sip of the drink, thinking exactly that. “I don’t.”

  She looked at me for a moment, her eyes at work, trying to discover if I was being truthful.

  “I almost told her about that night when you came over,” Emily said.

  I shifted uncomfortably, guilt immediately seeping into my gut. “But you didn’t?”

  She shrugged. “I thought about it. Felt like I needed to come clean with her. But then I thought it was stupid, nothing really ended up happening, so I kept my mouth shut.”

  Standing in front of Kate’s picture, I couldn’t get myself to talk about it, as if she’d jump out of the photo and take a swing at me for nearly hooking up with her sister.

  “You wanted to show me something,” I reminded her, uncomfortable under her stare.

  She paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Hang on.”

  She disappeared down the hallway. I took a deep breath, then finished my drink. I felt warm and fuzzy.

  Emily reappeared, a small silver key in her hand. She held it out to me.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A key.”

  “Thanks. I mean a key to what?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Kate spent the night here the first night she got into town because the hotel was full. I found it in the bedroom she slept in.”

  I laid it on the glass table and sat down on the sofa. “A stray key isn’t a whole lot. Not unless you know where to stick it.”

  “I wish I could give it back to her,” Emily said, rightfully ignoring my attempt at humor. “I know that’s stupid but I just wish I could.”

  She leaned back into the sofa with me and we sat there quietly, each of us staring at the key on the table. I heard Emily’s breathing start to chop up, then her hands went to her eyes, the tears spilling out over them. Her body shook, the sobs racking her and shaking the sofa.

  I reached my arm around her and held her. She pressed against me and cried harder.

  Finally, the tears stopped.

  But neither of us moved.

  I felt her head shift against my chest and against better judgment, I looked at her.

  Her eyeliner had smudged at the corners of her eyes and her cheeks were flushed, bright red. Her blond hair was tossed over to one side.

  We stared at one another, knowing what was coming, but not sure what to do about it.

  Ma
ybe not caring.

  Maybe going back in time to finish something we had started a long time ago.

  I don’t know what the right thing to do would’ve been. I probably should’ve left. Or started talking, rambling on about anything. Ordering a pizza might not have been a bad idea.

  But I didn’t do any of those things.

  Instead, we did other things.

  21

  The night after Kate ended our relationship on Catalina, I’d gone to the Criers’ house. I’m not sure what I planned on doing there. I wanted to see Kate, but I didn’t know what I was going to say to her. Probably something petty and immature. But I knew I wanted to see her.

  Only she wasn’t there.

  “Noah,” Emily said, opening the door. “Didn’t expect to see you.”

  Emily had intimidated me in high school. The older, sexier sister who could flirt effortlessly without meaning anything by it.

  Or so I thought.

  “Is Kate here?” I asked.

  She opened the door wider. She was wearing a black bikini top and a bright yellow towel wrapped around her waist, exposing the taut muscles in her stomach.

  She shook her head. “She’s out with our parents. A few last-minute purchases before she leaves, I guess.”

  I felt my shoulders sag at the mention of Kate’s leaving. “Oh.”

  “She told me about last night,” Emily said. “I’m sorry.”

  I shoved my hands deep into my shorts pockets. “Yeah, me, too.”

  She pushed the door open wider. “You wanna come in? I was about to jump in the Jacuzzi. You can hang out till they get back.”

  I stood there feeling dumb, embarrassed. I knew I didn’t have anything good to say to Kate. Whatever came out of my mouth was going to be either nasty or pathetic.

  But I couldn’t make myself leave.

  “Okay,” I said.

  I followed her through the magnificent house that still felt unfamiliar to me, despite the countless hours I’d spent in it. We went downstairs to the enormous game room and out through the floor-to-ceiling sliders.

  The Jacuzzi was at the far end of the pool, encircled by deep blue tiles and a concrete deck. The entire area provided a postcard view to the west, the Pacific Ocean seemingly at your fingertips and miles away at the same time.

  Emily unwrapped her towel, dropped it on the deck, and slipped into the water, backlit by the lights embedded in the walls of the Jacuzzi. Her tan body looked like a shadow against the light blue of the bubbling water. She tilted her head back, submerging her long blond hair, then raised back up, pushing the hair away from her face toward the back of her head.

  “You can come in if you want,” she said, settling on the bench that ran the length of the inside of the tub.

  I stepped out of my sandals and sat down on the ledge, dropping my legs into the warm water. “I’m good here.”

  She smiled. “So. You hate all of us now?”

  I tried to laugh, but it came out as a snort. “No. I don’t hate anybody.”

  “She didn’t have to break up with you.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I told her not to,” she said, letting her hands rest on top of the water. “You don’t deserve that, Noah. No one does.”

  I nodded, letting my eyes drop, unable to look at her. “Yeah.”

  “Of course, my parents are thrilled,” she said, her tone getting sharper. “Little Kate does the right thing again.”

  I looked back up at her, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She made a face and brought her hands together, a small wave of water splashing upward. “Gotta do what Mommy and Daddy say. Can’t think for ourselves.” She rolled her eyes. “Get chastised for that. Like me.”

  Kate never shared with me much about the family dynamics in her home. I knew that Emily seemed more outgoing than Kate, but I had never seen it as anything more than that. Kate had never intimated that she felt like a favored child in her household, and I had always assumed that both girls were doted upon equally by both parents. Emily might’ve pushed the boundaries of her parents’ patience more-breaking curfew or spending money a little more freely-but it was nothing that I figured earned more than a hard stare from her mother or father.

  But Emily’s tone suggested that maybe it was tougher than I knew to be the eldest Crier daughter.

  “You were Kate’s first mistake,” she said.

  I nodded, again looking away from her, again feeling the sting of the difference between my life and the Criers’.

  Emily came across the water and touched my knee.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t have to say that.”

  “It’s alright,” I mumbled.

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “First my parents, then Kate. I don’t need to be the last member of the family to treat you like shit.”

  I raised my eyes up and saw that she was closer than I expected, staring at me.

  “It’s okay, Emily,” I said. “Really.”

  Her hand squeezed my knee slightly, and I felt the sudden shift in whatever it was that was going on between us. Emily may have been a concerned older sister, but she was acting differently toward me. And I may have been the forlorn rejected boyfriend, but I wasn’t pushing her away.

  “She’s stupid, Noah,” she said, moving closer so that I could feel her body against my leg. “She’s blowing it.”

  The backyard was dark, save for the Jacuzzi lights illuminating us. The water lapped gently against the walls, and I was aware of how loud the stillness was.

  “It’s fine,” I said, not looking away from her.

  She shook her head slowly. “I’m not stupid.”

  She pushed harder against my leg under the water for a moment, then pushed herself out of the water onto the edge of the deck, next to me.

  “Let me show you,” she whispered, leaning into me.

  Her mouth found mine, and I didn’t resist. My stomach twisted with both guilt and excitement. She pulled me down into the water, lifted my shirt over my head. I distinctly remember seeing it float in the water next to us.

  She moved back away from me, and I followed her to the other side of the Jacuzzi. When I reached her, the black bikini top was gone.

  We kissed again, harder this time, some of my anger at Kate pushing me. Groping, grabbing, wet. Kate wouldn’t have done this-she’d have been too worried about her parents finding us. Emily clearly didn’t mind being half-naked with me.

  A noise at the far side of the yard snapped in the air and startled me.

  I pulled away from Emily. “What was that?”

  She wrapped her arms tighter around my neck. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” She twined her legs around mine, pushing hard against me. “Come on, Noah.”

  I knew I needed to leave, to jump out of that water, to walk out of the Crier house and never look back. I was angry at Kate for leaving me behind, for having a better opportunity than I had, for not having told me the truth. I knew having sex with her older sister wasn’t going to solve my problems, alleviate my hurt. But I was also eighteen, pissed off at the world, and in a Jacuzzi with an attractive, willing girl.

  Emily pressed her lips to my ear and whispered, “Come on.”

  I pulled away. “I gotta go.”

  She clung to me. “No you don’t.”

  I untangled myself from her arms, water splashing around us, and pushed up onto the step and out of the Jacuzzi.

  I turned around to her, water dripping off me onto the deck. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  My shirt was to her right in the water. She grabbed it, wadded it up, and flung it at me. “Figures. Whatever.” Her mouth twisted sourly like she’d bit into something awful. “See you later.”

  I caught the wet shirt but didn’t put it on. I turned and walked back through the house, out the front door, and down to my car.

  I don’t know why I left that night. I was furious at Kate, at her parents, and Emily
was a willing participant. But something about it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the fear of being caught. Maybe I just couldn’t get over how I felt about Kate.

  But walking away from Emily felt like the right thing to do that night.

  Eleven years later, though, staying with Emily felt like the only thing to do.

  22

  I woke to a note on Emily’s pillow.

  I’LL CALL YOU. E.

  If I’d been the first to wake, I would’ve left the same note, just with an “N.”

  I was alone in her house, and it just didn’t fit. I wasn’t sure that the previous hours had felt right-except of course for the physical part, which always did-and I needed to breathe.

  I dressed quickly, grabbed the key she’d given me off the coffee table, and dashed out the front door. I knew I probably looked silly jogging to my car, but I didn’t want to run into Emily coming back from wherever she’d gone. I wasn’t prepared for that meeting yet.

  PCH was empty at eight in the morning, and I made it back to Mission Beach in half an hour. I slipped into my shorts, grabbed the six-foot squash tail from beside the sofa, and walked down to the water, letting the salt and waves fill my senses as I waded in.

  I dropped onto my board and paddled out. I ducked under the small waves that were rolling in, letting the icy shock of the Pacific ride up my spine and into my ears with a roar. The chill of the early morning air hit me as I emerged from the waves, making my body tingle.

  I saw Carter pop up on the horizon just to my right, sliding down the face of a slow four footer that was breaking south toward the jetty. It closed out on both sides of him and he dropped off the board into the water, slapping the surface with his giant palm, frustrated. He saw me maneuvering in his direction and waited for me to reach him.

  “Dude,” he said, wiping the water from his face and jumping back on his board. “Where you been?”

  “You’re out early,” I said, avoiding the question.

  “Break looked good.”