by Jenna Rae
The doorbell rang, startling Lola. By the time she’d reached the door, a uniformed messenger holding a clipboard was ringing again.
Lola signed for a large, baggy envelope and waited until she was in the kitchen to open it. Her cell phone tumbled out onto the counter. Lola stared at the now-unfamiliar object for a long moment. Then, hesitating, she picked up the phone. It still had a full battery, thank goodness. Del must have charged it for her before she got sick—or, Lola’s fevered imagination put in, been kidnapped.
Lola didn’t think, she dialed. He didn’t seem exactly thrilled to hear from her, but Tom Phan listened to her rambling for a good five minutes before cutting her off.
“No, I get what you’re saying, Lola, but I think you’re seeing ghosts.”
“I know how it sounds. But hear me out. I—”
“I wish it was different,” Tom inserted. “But it’s not. She picked Janet. It’s damn stupid of her, and Del’s hurting herself and anyone who gives a shit about her, but Janet’s not some lunatic criminal. She’s just a run-of-the-mill, lying, using, manipulative bitch. That’s all.”
“But—”
“You take care, okay, Lola?” Tom sounded far away. Tired or resigned or something equally distant. “Gotta go.”
Lola hung up the phone and shook her head in impatience. “Why did I think he’d listen to me? No one ever does.”
She looked at the phone she’d waited so long to get back.
“Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?”
She tapped out Marco’s number.
“Hey, I’m sorry to call when you’re painting. I need to talk something through with you. Could I come by this evening?”
“Why wait?”
“Well, I want you to get a chance to work before I interrupt you, and I have some stuff to do too. About five?”
“Can’t wait, sis.”
Flooded with relief, Lola hung up and made a list of things she wanted to get done before talking to Marco. As she wrote down the last item, Lola realized making the list and crossing off its tasks rendered her upcoming conversation with Marco a mere formality. She shrugged.
“So be it.” Flagging after her detailed preparations, Lola barely remembered to take her keys with her before dashing across the street. After a few minutes of chat, she was ready to broach the subject of her thoughts, or so she thought. Faced with the prospect of being ignored or dismissed, Lola felt stifled.
“I want to throw something out there, and I don’t want you to tell me it’s stupid.”
Marco rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’s not. Just tell me.”
“So, I was thinking about Janet. And sort of feeling sorry for myself and for Del. Then I started feeling bad for Janet.”
“Come on!”
They lay squished together in a large hammock in Marco’s backyard, and Lola stared up at the bright sky above through the dark green leaves of the tree under which they lay. Lola had never been in a hammock before, and she was surprised by how relaxing it was. She felt how bony Marco’s side was and hid concern. His distress over Ray Stowe was affecting his health, clearly. She made a mental note to bake something special for the guys after the situation with Del was resolved, one way or another. It was pathetic, really. All she had to offer were baked goods.
“Lola, Janet’s a truly selfish, destructive, terrible person. She made Del miserable.”
“I know. But I also know how it feels to make a mistake. I don’t think she’s evil, not really.”
“Hmm.” Marco’s tone of doubt was restrained, and Lola squeezed his hand. How had she gotten so lucky, stumbling over such an amazing friend?
They were quiet for a while, listening. Late weekday afternoons in the city were quiet, but the evening brought traffic and noise and music and laughter. In the peaceful backyard, Lola felt insulated from the bustle and bluster of the congested neighborhood.
“I wrote a story about Janet.” Lola felt Marco stiffen and try to relax.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see things from her point of view, understand why she’s done the things she’s done.”
“I can tell you exactly why. She’s a selfish, immature bitch.”
Lola smirked. “I’m so glad Del has you in her life. And that I do too.”
He panted and raised his hands as though begging for a treat.
“Har, har.” She waited until he dropped his hands. “I just couldn’t understand her, you know? So I tried to put myself in her shoes. I wrote a backstory for her. Just made it up.”
“And?”
“Well, the thing is, the more I wrote about her, the more I felt I understood her. The more like me she seemed to be.”
“Isn’t that just the nature of creative work? Sometimes when I paint a subject, I start to feel like them.”
“I guess, but maybe it was more than that. After a while, I could almost see things from her point of view.”
“That’s a scary thought.” Marco struggled to get out of the hammock. “Listen, sweetie, I think it’s nice that you wanted to empathize with her, okay? But you are nothing like Janet.”
“But that’s not the whole story.” Lola accepted Marco’s hand as she made her own escape from the hammock.
“Yes, it is.” His tone brooked no argument. “Leave it alone, Lola. She’s a fucking monster, but Del picked her, and there’s nothing you can do to save someone who’s in love with a monster.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
My friend is doing her job as I do mine. The little fly buzzes around, trying to get free, but she doesn’t understand that I am delivering her from the prison of her life. She will, though. That is what makes her special, that she will know the truth of what I am saying and doing in a way the others have not.
I knew that as soon as my friend explained her to me. I studied her, the way one studies a beautiful work of art. I have never gained such insight and clarity on any of the lost girls, and I have only been able to infer who they had become from little snippets of information, from impressions, from my knowledge of behavior patterns. I have used my camera, that most sacred tool, to examine them with the clarity and objectivity necessary to wisdom. I have put my lens to their faces, their bodies, their friends and families and lovers and cars and homes. I have put my lens to their lunches and their shoes and their everything and it has all been for naught. But the angel, my angel, my redeeming light—she knows she’s lost. I took so much time, days on end, poking at her to see what she’d do. It was hard on her, letting her stew in fear. I’d never done that before, and I hope to never do it again. I don’t think I’ll have to. I am up to four red pills a day now and they are working their magic. They help me understand this lost girl is more than just my misplaced hope personified.
Like me, she has failed to find true refuge. She’s tried, certainly, but has failed, over and over, to escape the reality that she is spoiled and unhappy in this life and will never find joy on this earth. Her truth has caused her pain, and for this I am both sad and overjoyed. Her pain is the path, like my pain has been the path, and we shall both soon be free. She will be my new sister, my new daughter, my new self, made pure and whole in the peace of freedom from this tainted world. I will save her and that will save me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Are you listening to me?”
Del pretended to be asleep.
“I know you can hear me, baby.” Janet’s face went away, and Del heard her chewing her fingernails. The sound made Del nostalgic, and for a moment she considered offering to kiss each of Janet’s fingers if she would stop biting on them. Del almost smiled. Janet had been thrilled by the offer once upon a time, and Del had been happy to fulfill her sweet obligation, day after day. Of course, Janet never really kept her end of any bargain. Del had ignored the ragged ends of Janet’s nails, bestowing an affectionate token without reservation. She would have been delighted to do so again. But they were not lovers, not anymore. Janet had kidnapped Del and was holding her cap
tive.
“How did this happen?” The question slipped out before Del could stop it. She made a face but then realized that Janet hadn’t been fooled by her Rip Van Winkle impression anyway.
“Oh, Del.” Janet sounded close to tears. She sat on the bed next to Del.
I could use my legs to immobilize her, Del thought. Pin her, get her down close to my hand. Del played out the possibilities in her head and decided to wait.
I need to gain her trust. Get her to take off the restraints.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Del struggled to pay attention to what Janet was saying.
“I know you’re angry at me.” Janet sounded reproachful.
“Maybe if you explained it to me,” Del prompted. She had to be careful. Janet could get worked up and lose her cool. God only knew what weapons she had on hand. Or what help. But she had to get Janet to talk. It was the only way to figure out how to escape.
“The frustrating thing is, you should understand!”
Del suppressed a groan of impatience. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
Janet stood and paced. Del watched her go back and forth, her long hair the only part of her visible unless Del craned her neck.
“Oh, let me get you a pillow.” Janet made a face and ducked out. She was back in a minute.
Del again had to stifle the impulse to try overpowering Janet. She nodded her thanks and settled back, glad to be able to see Janet more easily.
“Better? Good. Okay.” Janet smiled uncertainly at Del, and for a moment she was just a sweet, pretty girl who’d made a few mistakes and wanted another chance. Del fought sudden tears.
She loves me, I know she does. So why didn’t I just forgive her and move on? How did we get here?
“Oh, I can’t do this!” Janet was crying too, and Del shook her head.
“Janet—”
“Finish your oatmeal, and we’ll get you cleaned up.” Janet was suddenly all business and Del bit her tongue. She’d been locked in this dark little room for, what, three days, maybe four? Why wasn’t anyone looking for her? Phan? Lola? Anyone? She let Janet spoon in the cereal and wipe her mouth.
“Can I take a shower?” She hated the begging tone in her voice but she knew it would work. “I stink. Please?”
“I’m getting a bath ready for you. Remember when I had the flu, and you gave me a bath?”
Del nodded. She was surprised Janet remembered the incident from early in their relationship. She’d been a terrible caregiver as she recalled it, but Janet had been absurdly grateful. Like Lola, now that Del thought about it. Surprised anyone would bother to do any little thing for her.
“It meant a lot to me, the way you took care of me. Now I’m taking care of you. I’m doing a good job, right?”
Del nodded again.
“I’ll be back for you in a bit.”
They were in a trailer, Del suddenly realized. This made her feel better, though there was no real reason it should. A trailer seemed more permeable, somehow, less imposing a prison. Should she try something when Janet came back for her? It would be hard to do much, she was so stiff and sore from inactivity, but she thought she could maybe get free if a chance presented itself. She might, of course, need to help that opportunity along. After that, she’d need to find a way to connect with civilization. They were remote, clearly. Del hadn’t heard a single car, cell phone, airplane, helicopter, siren, anything. But she knew how to track, at least a little, and she would just pick a direction and go until she found people. If they weren’t too high up, if it wasn’t too cold at night, then maybe she’d survive. She closed her eyes. She was so tired! Maybe it would be good to rest up as much as possible until she made her move. Del woke to find herself bathed.
She drugged me again. She must have used a gurney or something. No, a wheelchair would fit better in a trailer. So, she came prepared. She plans to keep me here for a while. She could smell shampoo, soap, lotion, deodorant. Her mouth tasted clean too. Did Janet have help? This was the question she kept asking herself and needed to find an answer to. Evading more than just Janet or having to escape without knowing if she needed to plan on another potential assailant—both possibilities could complicate things. Del felt for the first time how truly helpless she was.
“I’ve been kidding myself,” she muttered. “I’m stuck here as long as she wants, helpless as a baby.”
Though she was ashamed of it, Del cried until she fell back asleep. Hours later, judging by the quality of the darkness—it was darker, somehow—Del awoke and sensed her aloneness.
“Think about this,” Del called, unsure whether anyone could actually hear her. “They’re going to miss me. Phan. Lola. Marco. Tess. I have a job, neighbors, friends. They’re gonna come looking for me. And what then? A shootout? Maybe you think you can talk—or buy—your way out of this. But you can’t.”
No response. Del needed to pee and she was thirsty and hungry.
“You can’t just keep me tied up here forever.” She flexed her shoulders, wincing, and jiggled her arms and legs. “I’m getting dehydrated. I’m not getting enough to eat.”
She waited another few minutes.
“It hurts,” she mumbled. “Leaving me tied up here is hurting me.”
No response.
“Please?” Her voice was thick. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t. She’d sworn it to herself. Not again.
“What do you want? What do I have to do?”
Silence was the only answer.
“Janet?” She swallowed the tears that threatened to stifle her words. “Talk to me, please?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“This is stupid,” Orrin hissed.
She didn’t respond.
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he warned.
Lola shrugged his words away.
“Stop ignoring me!” He roared this when Lola stopped to make a pot of coffee, and she nearly dropped the glass carafe.
“Stop having temper tantrums, you big, dead baby,” she snapped. Jabbing at the grind button on the coffeemaker, Lola waited for the screaming roar of the machine to drown out Orrin’s phantom presence and the cackling of his spectral sidekick, Tami Holden. She managed to keep their nagging voices away while she made her preparations but felt there was more she needed to say to both of them.
Really, she thought, as she packed the car, am I sorting through what I want to say to my dead husband and his equally moribund paramour? By the time her heavy sedan was crawling through mid-morning traffic, Lola was ready to talk with Orrin again.
“I was so scared of you,” she told the phantom.
“I know.” He sounded smug and Lola tried to ignore her ire at this.
“Did you ever love me, really?”
The question hung in the air for a long time.
“In some way at least?”
No answer.
Lola sighed heavily. “I wish I knew. Not that it matters, I guess. You’re dead, and I’m alive and alone and about to get myself killed and maybe get Del killed too.”
She checked her rearview mirror, wondering for a second if she was seeing things. Was that Sterling, that woman in the SUV a few cars back? The woman had a baseball cap on and it was hard to see her, but she had Sterling’s coloring and bearing. Lola shook her head.
“Paranoia.”
She saw herself as if from a short distance and nearly turned the car around.
“This is a fool’s errand,” she told herself. “Based on nothing at all, I’m going to the home of a total stranger who lives hours away. All because I have some crazy theory that Janet has kidnapped Del and is holding her prisoner in this place she bought under a fake name that no one but me would think Janet might use. Only someone like me would think, oh, anagram, Hannah Jet, sure, that makes sense. This is ridiculous! All based on a made-up story no one but me would think could be true.”
Orrin’s chuckle in her ear, accompanied by Tami’s snorting chortle, was all the derision Lola neede
d to decide that, fool’s errand or not, she was headed upstate to find Del. Some time later, she shucked on her hands-free headset and dialed the phone.
“Talk to me, honey.” Marco’s voice sounded far away. “Where are you? What’s going on?”
Lola considered what to tell him. “I don’t want you to tell me I’m nuts, okay?”
“Lola—”
“I have a hunch. It’s probably a total waste of time, but I’m going to chase it down.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” Thinking her tone too firm, Lola softened the word with a laugh. “Listen, I need to satisfy my curiosity about something, that’s all, and I feel kind of silly about it.”
“So what? Remember when we went to the wharf? Remember how silly that was? But we did it together.”
Lola grimaced, slowing as the Sacramento traffic grew more congested. “I’m already a couple hours out of town.”
Marco huffed. “Where exactly? Do you really think I’m going to let you go off and get yourself hurt?”
“You don’t let me do anything, Marco. I’m a grown woman, got it? And I decide what I do and when, not you.” Lola held her breath, shocked at her own pique but not willing to take back the words.
“Honey, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”
Lola let out a long breath, slowing even more as the traffic eased to a crawl. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Del and not sure what to do. Listen, I have to go, traffic’s terrible here. I’m headed up past Sacramento, near Placerville on the 50. I wasn’t going to stop for the night in Sac, but the traffic’s making me think I’d better. I’ll call you tomorrow night by seven or so, all right? If I don’t, just tell Tom to look for Hannah Jet in El Dorado County.”
“Who’s Hannah Jet?”
“Okay, thank you, sweetie. I have to go, bye!” She disconnected the phone and dropped the headset into her purse. She’d hesitated about calling him at all, but it seemed prudent to at least let one person know where she was and what she was doing. Sort of. In the vaguest possible way.