Heat

by Lis Lucassen

  She ascended the stairs two steps at a time. Out of breath, she ended up in front of Dan’s room, her hand raised to knock on the door, when reality suddenly hit her like an unexpected attacker.

  What was she going to tell Dan? Moreover, how was she supposed to say what she wanted to say? He knew what she’d done – or more accurately, what she hadn’t done. He knew about her playing the silent witness. He was aware of her insecurities. Her fears. And she, of all people, felt entitled to tell him that he didn’t need to be afraid?

  Dropping her arm, she inched away from the door.

  If anybody knew anything about the fact that the ugliest scars of all were inside a person, it was her.

  46

  Dan

  The effect of the tranquilizers wore off in the course of the afternoon. Dan stared at the tray in front of him and eyed the collection of different dishes on it. Breakfast? Lunch? It didn’t matter. He was so hungry he could eat a horse, so he sunk his fork into the stack of pancakes on one of the plates.

  His father entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You have a visitor.”

  Immediately, his appetite evaporated, leaving a hollow feeling in his stomach. He cursed himself for being such a coward. Why couldn’t he face Lynn?

  “Look, I can tell her to…”

  “No, let her in,” he interrupted his dad, before realizing he was still in bed, just like a patient. He hated the association and the memory of his hospital room in the burns unit. The memory of Ella and Timo, seeing him like that. Helpless and dependent. Quickly, he pushed the tray off his lap and flung his legs over the side of the bed.

  Crap. Dan looked down. He wasn’t wearing pants and the scar on his leg peeped from below the edge of his boxers, but his dad was already opening the door. Sweat streamed down his back and the hollow feeling in his stomach seemed to explode.

  “Hey.”

  Dan whipped around so fast that he was convinced he’d dislocated his spine. It was Steve who was sauntering into the room.

  His visitor cast a look around, then picked out the chair near the window to sit down after he dumped Jason’s folded clothes on the floor. He plunked down and stretched out his legs. Dan crawled back into bed and covered his legs with the comforter.

  Steve cocked an eyebrow. “You shy?”

  “What do you want?” Dan ignored Steve’s mocking tone of voice. He didn’t like him. He was an asshole. He recognized guys like Steve from a mile off. And from up close, of course – he only needed one look in the mirror to be confronted with another asshole from way up closer. Fortunately, he wasn’t in the habit of looking in the mirror these days.

  “I come here bearing gifts. And some words of advice.” Steve slouched down in his seat and pulled a keycard from his pants pocket. He tossed it toward Dan, who plucked it out of the air with one hand. “Great reflexes.”

  “Fuck off.” Dan turned the plastic thing around in his fingers. “What’s this for?”

  “You need to get your head out of your ass and stop playing the victim. That act of yours? The whole woe-is-me stance? It’s getting old. Or at least, that’s what I’m guessing. You’ve been hiding for way too long, and the longer you keep it up, the more it’ll cling to you in the end. Roll with the punches, man. And before you go off on a rant about how I don’t know you and how I can’t know what it’s like, just don’t. Because I do. It takes one to know one.”

  Dan blinked.

  “Burns?” Steve pointed at him. He pointed. His arm outstretched. His finger extended.

  Dan got to his feet. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed Steve by the shoulder and yanked him out of the chair. “Fuck off!” He shoved Steve toward the door. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and suddenly, the room seemed to be drained of all oxygen.

  Steve dug his heels into the plush carpet and spun around. He knocked Dan’s hand off his shoulder and crossed his arms. “Keep breathing.”

  That’s when Dan knew that the panting he heard was coming from him. He clenched his jaws and balled his hands into fists. Another word from Steve and he’d hit the arrogant jerk in the face.

  “That room key? It’s for the bridal suite. It’s not occupied tonight or tomorrow.” Steve turned toward the door. “And if you let her go, you’re an even bigger idiot than I gave you credit for. If you’re too scared to show yourself to her. Is that it, Dan? Are you scared? Are you a coward?” Steve waited.

  No matter how much he wanted to say something, his mouth refused to budge. Somewhere in his mind, some important synaptic connections had been short-circuited. The only thing he could manage to do was stand there, rooted to the spot.

  “Lynn deserves better than a jackass made of chicken shit who is so scared of facing his own demons that he won’t look at her and read what’s there in her eyes, in plain sight.” Despite the harsh words, Steve’s soliloquy was devoid of all emotion. He just stated the facts, giving Dan information without judgment. Dan then watched him yank the door open and leave the room.

  It was only long after Steve had disappeared down the staircase that Dan regained the power of speech. Confused, he scrambled back to the bed and dropped down onto the mattress. Something was stabbing the skin of his back. When he felt around to grab the item, his fingers curled around the keycard.

  47

  Lynn

  The cursor blinked in the Google search bar Lynn had opened. She read the terms she’d entered: ‘fatal accident in May anonymous tips’ and the name of her hometown.

  Her hand hovered over the keyboard, her index finger almost pressing the Enter key. Why didn’t she just run the search? It wasn’t like she’d see anything she hadn’t seen before. Her mother had dutifully collected newspaper clippings about the accident to stick them in a folder and keep them – every last one of them. Why? She’d never puckered up the courage to ask her mother.

  To her, wanting to keep those articles was bizarre. Why would you want to remind yourself of something you so desperately wanted to forget?

  Because remembering was necessary in order to face your fears. And she’d never be able to face Dan if she didn’t face her own fears first. Only then would she be able to tell him that she’d listened to him. That he was worth listening to. And worthy of so much more than that. She wanted to be like that, too. Worthy.

  Lynn moved her finger down. Gingerly, she pressed down on the Enter key, as though it would help Google to show her the shocking images gradually instead of flooding the screen with them. A nervous chuckle erupted from her lips. She couldn’t help it – the fact that she was doing the exact same thing as her mother was too much. Too weird.

  The first search results were from local newspapers. Her hand trembled slightly as she moved the mouse and clicked on the first link. She scanned the headline and read on. The next article featured a photograph. It was the traffic circle. Near the place where they’d found Esmee’s body, sympathetic visitors and gawkers had left a huge pile of flowers to pay their respect.

  “Police have no lead on the suspect. They kindly ask possible witnesses to step forward.”

  A splitting headache started to throb just above her right eye, like a concert without melody but an insistent, continuous sound of drums. Lynn rubbed her eyes, but that didn’t make it any better. Her vision only turned even blurrier. Still, she kept scrolling through the search results. Three full Google pages about the accident – Esmee would have been chuffed with all the attention. Or possibly, she’d have been disappointed with ‘only three pages’. Somehow, she deserved more. Lynn sighed and rubbed her eyes again. The headache started to pound more ferociously.

  The final page contained a link to a message that had been left on the police website. Apparently, they had an entire police record dedicated to unsolved cases, including fatal hit-and-runs.

  Drivers who didn’t pull over after causing an accident were criminals, it turned out. A maximum penalty of three months in jail was meted out if such a person was caught. Three months
only. Was that all Esmee’s life was worth?

  Lynn worried her lip. What would happen if the police found out that it hadn’t just been a hit-and-run, but a deliberate attempt to hit the victim? How long would they send him to jail for that? For as long as Esmee stayed dead? It seemed fitting.

  But they’d have to know how it happened. And who did it.

  An asinine voice in her head whispered at her, ignoring her throbbing headache.

  At the bottom of the page was a phone number. Next to it was the assurance that all tips would be treated strictly confidentially. Lynn cast a look around. The guest computer she was using was right next to the reception desk. She got up and grabbed a pen and one of the many leaflets about tourist attractions scattered around the desk, in order to scribble down the phone number.

  With every step she took toward her room, the leaflet in her hand seemed to get heavier. As though the individual digits of the phone number had turned to lead, and the prospect of having to call that number weighed down on her like concrete.

  Once in her room, she walked over to the bed. Most of all she longed to just lie down, close her eyes, and lose herself in deep sleep.

  Instead, she unplugged her cell phone from its charger and punched in the number. A tinny voice on tape informed her that the department she was trying to reach was available from eight a.m till midnight. If she stayed on the line, she’d be connected to the emergency line. Lynn glanced at the clock and quickly calculated the time. It was just after two in the morning in Holland.

  Her mounting doubts urged her to hang up. It’d be so easy. She could tell herself that she’d tried. She’d really tried, but the department she needed had been unavailable.

  “Good evening, reception. This is police station North. How can I help?”

  The lady on the other end of the line sounded cheerful. Had she counted wrong? Was it really past midnight back home?

  “Hello?”

  Lynn cleared her throat, which suddenly seemed to be stuffed full of cotton wool. “Hi. This is…” She changed her mind, not wanting to mention her name. “I – have an anonymous tip. About a fatal accident. It’s…” Again, she cleared her throat. The cotton wool in her throat got worse. “About a hit-and-run which happened on the traffic circle just outside of town. In May.”

  The woman at reception suddenly sounded a lot less cheerful. “One moment please. Please hold the line, I’m putting you through.”

  She could hang up now.

  She’d made the effort. She’d tried.

  “Good evening, this is officer Rodney Blankevoort speaking. My colleague put your call through, saying you have some information about an unsolved case for us?”

  The pain in her head exploded. Her cell phone slipped from her lifeless hands and panic crawled up her back like a snake, winding its body around her neck to strangle her.

  “Hello?” Rodney’s voice sounded remote. But it was him. It was him, asking for her name. It was him, asking her whether she was still there. Him, now telling her that prank calls would be traced and callers could be prosecuted.

  She fumbled to pick up the phone, but it fell out of her sweaty palm once more. It took her one more try before she managed to click off.

  “This is Rodney.” Esmee jabbed a thumb at the guy standing behind her. He was holding two beers in his hand and he smiled at her. “He’s a cop!” She heard excitement in Esmee’s voice – the hint of a laugh she saved for her conquests. Esmee turned around and put her hand on her latest obsession’s lower arm.

  “He’s a part of our police force, Lynn. Isn’t it just awesome?”

  48

  Lynn

  Exhaustion made her limbs heavy. So very heavy. All night, she’d been in her bed staring at the ceiling. The few times she dozed off, she’d been dreaming about Rodney and Esmee. And each time, the dreams were the same, but from a different point of view. That didn’t matter – they all ended the same. Esmee still ended up dead and Rodney was still above the law. When she could no longer bear to stay in bed, she went to the beach to stay there all day and avoid people.

  In the dinner room, she trifled with the rice and vegetables she’d gotten from the buffet. It was late, the room was almost empty, and the tables were full of stacked, dirty plates. It was weird, sitting in this room out of uniform. And it felt even weirder to know that Steve had been working all day while she’d tried to focus on the old magazine she’d brought along and not think of Esmee, Rodney, and especially Dan. She didn’t want to burden him with more problems. He needed rest after all he’d been through – peace and some room for himself. Once he was ready, he’d reach out to her. At least, that’s what she hoped. A terrible cold froze her heart when she considered he wouldn’t try to get in touch with her… no, she shouldn’t think like that. Of course he’d want to see her.

  Marina was standing in for her now, working the shifts with Steve. Constanza had arranged it because she thought Lynn wanted a few extra days of vacation before she went home. Or so the story went, but somehow this felt more like punishment to her. She was taken off the job before she even left.

  Some rice caught in her throat, and she quickly gulped down a bit of soda. It had gotten lukewarm by now. She’d been here for too long. Maybe it was best to go upstairs, crawl into bed, and sleep a dreamless sleep for a long, long time.

  Enthusiastic sounds coming from the back of the dinner room drew her attention. Tonight was Casino Night – Steve’s big project. She got up and made her way to the recreation hall. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Steve had really pulled it off – the entire game room truly looked like a casino. Playing tables had been put up all across the room, and people were sitting at them and playing different gambling games. Lynn recognized some of the games from that one time she’d joined Rodney and Esmee at the casino. Rodney had lost five hundred bucks playing Black Jack and he’d been moping and drinking heavily at the bar for the rest of the evening. Eventually Esmee had managed to drag him to the exit. He insisted he could drive home himself, but he couldn’t find his keys. Later, they found out they’d been in his pants pocket all along.

  She pushed the memory far away, then stepped up to a roulette table to watch the little ball bounce into one of the slots every now and then. Steve was parading around in shorts and a suit jacket, a tie loosely fastened around his neck. His blond hair stood up in spikes and a grin graced his face as he answered questions directed at him here and there, mostly by female casino-goers. He spotted her, briefly waved and winked at her, but then his gaze trailed away to zoom in on a scantily dressed poker-playing girl.

  Lynn got lost in the ambiance and the noises of this special evening. Laughing people, the clicking of poker chips on the tables and the jingle of the little ball as it hit the roulette table. She tried to find a pattern in the game of roulette, but every time she thought the ball would land on black, it hit red. After an hour of observing, she decided she’d seen enough. She wanted to drop by Constanza’s office to ask her whether she had any details about her flight to Holland yet. Plus, she needed to call her mother. Her resolution to tell her mom about Esmee’s accident felt like a brick in the pit of her stomach. Still, she was determined – she had to tell someone about that evening. She’d tell the police first, and then her parents. But then, she heard Rodney’s voice in the back of her mind, and her resolve crumbled like old cork.

  Deep in thought, she turned around and bumped straight into Dan.

  He raked a hand through his hair and looked down at her. His eyes were serious and no longer sparkled like they had done last night at the drinks dispenser. She felt his eyes gauging her, his gaze like fire on her skin. What should she tell him? Frantically, she mentally groped around for the right words to say – or for words to say, period.

  Dan took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. She stared at their linked hands and glanced up. The sounds that had so effectively submerged her in the casino world retreated into the background.

  “I’m, uh…�
� Dan swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He, too, seemed to be looking for words to say. A nervous grin tugged at his lips as he pointed to the roulette table. “Care to try your luck?”

  Lynn bit her lip. “What are we playing for?”

  Dan contemplated her question and he scanned her face. “How about we play for the truth?”

  She hesitated. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you owe me payout.”

  “How so?”

  “You owe everyone the truth.”

  She wanted to pry her hand loose, but Dan wouldn’t let go. “What are you so scared of, Lynn?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor as she slowly shook her head. She knew what he meant. “I can’t… I want to tell people, I do. But I can’t.”

  “You can do everything. Black or red?”

  “What?” She was still staring at her feet.

  “Black or red. Your choice. If you win, I’ll hold my peace forever. And I’ll leave it up to you to do what you think is best. But if I win, you’ll tell me everything. You’ll tell the police. And you’ll tell everyone who has a right to know.”

  He had to be aware of the fact that he was asking the impossible of her. Heck, she did want to give in to him, and yet…

  She looked up at Dan and saw the pain in his eyes. He knew like no other what it was like to carry something shameful with you.

  “Lynn?”

  At last, she made her choice. “Red.”

  The dealer dropped the ball in the roulette wheel and suddenly, her whole world seemed to revolve around this one game. The ball spun around the wheel and made the choice for her. Dan watched it intently. When the ball started to slow down, the tension left his face and was replaced by determination. Inadvertently, she stepped backward, but Dan’s hand around hers kept her firmly in place. “You trust me?” he said.