“Dwayne's dead and it looks like Dr. Leroy killed him. I have to go.”
“I thought Dwayne was under twenty-four-hour surveillance so you could catch the doctor in the act? Before he killed him, I mean.”
“He was. I'll explain later. Sorry.”
“It's fine. Go.”
“Thanks for an amazing day. Tell your brother congratulations,” he said as he backed down the hall.
“I will.”
He saw her wave before he reached the exit at the end of the hall. He picked up his pace. What a horrible end to such a perfect afternoon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
When Eric got back to the street, he could see the Seattle ferry docked at the bottom of the hill. They’d almost finished loading cars for its journey back to the city, but if he hurried he could make it as a walk-on passenger. He walked as briskly as he could without drawing attention to himself. The wind came in strong off the water, blowing the rain into his face as he went. He put his hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away.
His blood was pumping when he reached the gangway. The last car had just been loaded onto the ferry as Eric jogged toward the boat. Thankfully, he didn't have to stop to buy a ticket. Walk-on passengers only had to pay when getting on in Seattle. Out of breath, he made it to the ferry right before a ferry worker closed the gate behind him.
“You just made it,” he said.
Ignoring his comment, Eric let out a sigh of relief and casually strolled onto the upper deck. He went inside and glanced around at the tables near the windows, which were already mostly filled. Still flooded with adrenaline, he decided to go back outside despite the storm. The door flung back from the force of the wind when he opened it. He pulled his hood over his head as he felt the rain blow sideways against his face. The boat dipped down and then up again as he made his way to the edge of the stern.
A small group of preteens were leaning over the edge of the railing on the other side. They were trying to be bad-asses, but in reality just being idiots. A few of them were lifting their legs off the ground as they leaned forward onto the railing, seeing who could lean over the farthest without falling.
Eric turned away and grabbed hold of the railing. He looked at the rough water below. The whitecaps on the choppy water seemed to remind him of something in his distant past, the details of which he couldn't come to remember. The ferry picked up speed as more and more water separated them from the island.
A seagull struggled to hover above the boat, getting tossed about by gusts of wind. Eric turned around at the sound of kids screaming. He watched the middle-schoolers fall back onto the deck as ocean spray came over the side. It was apparently more than they could handle, and they took off as a group toward the doors that led inside.
Alone on the ferry deck, he took out his phone. After removing the SIM card from the back, he tossed them both into the Sound. He watched them disappear into the gray-blue water almost instantly.
He stayed outside despite the weather, admiring the evergreen-covered island as it faded from his view. All these years he'd hated the dreariness of Seattle. He hardly even allowed himself to enjoy its summers, knowing they would be over all too soon. He seemed to be appreciating its beauty for the first time, now that he might never see it again.
He leaned against the railing, filled with a sense of righteous indignation. Now that Dwayne was dead, he could start his new life over in peace. Even if he’d been wrong to kill Patricia, her husband, and his twit of a neighbor, surely he’d redeemed himself through the act of removing such a disgusting human being like Dwayne from this earth.
It had been a risk to kill him while he was under surveillance. It also delayed his escape out of the country. He could already be on a plane, browsing the in-flight movie selection on his way to a new life. But he knew it had been the right choice. It had been worth it to ensure that worthless scumbag never took another breath.
Maybe Daisy would have come with him if she'd been alive. What a life they could've had.
He looked out at the sea and thought about Blondie accusing him of killing his wife. It was absurd. Stella’s family was obviously still as crazy as ever. And Stephenson had been dumb enough to believe them. He was the one they should feel sorry for. She was the one who left me.
He felt an uneasiness well up inside him and he tried to think of something else. The taste of salt in his mouth and the stormy sea below gave him a sudden sense of déjà vu.
Eric was a fourth-year medical student and arrived at the teaching hospital for his night shift in the emergency room. It was the start of summer, and he’d watched a colony of flying foxes soar overhead during the drive. When he got there, however, he realized he had looked at the schedule wrong. He wasn't due back at the hospital until the following night.
Even though the hospital was an hour south of where they lived, he was happy to go home and spend the rest of the evening with Stella. Throughout the drive, he made plans in his head of how he and Stella might enjoy his unexpected night off. He pictured them cuddling on the couch while they watched a movie or sharing a bottle of wine on the back porch while they gazed at the stars and listened to the ocean waves crash on the beach. In both scenarios, of course, they ended up in bed, making love well into the night.
But he couldn't have been more wrong.
When he got to the small home he and Stella shared in Anna Bay, he unlocked the front door and called out to his wife. Seeing she wasn't in the kitchen, he called out to her again and continued to their master bedroom. He stopped in the doorway to their room.
“Stella?”
A suitcase lay open on the bed, piled high with clothes. Stella stared at him with her emerald eyes. Her mouth gaped open, obviously frazzled by his presence. More than frazzled. She looked terrified.
“What are you doing?” Eric asked.
She took a deep breath and slammed the suitcase closed. “I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't want it to be this way. It's not exactly what it looks like. I think we need some time apart. I'm going to stay with my parents.”
“You're leaving me?”
“I just think we need to take a break.”
He took a step toward her. Her eyes widened, and she moved back.
“Why? Did your parents talk you into this?”
“No, this has nothing to do with my parents. You know why. You're starting to scare me with your mood swings and your temper. After you hit me the other night, I don't think it's safe for me to be here anymore.”
Now she had insulted him. “Hit you? That was an accident!”
He watched her demeanor change, and she no longer looked afraid. She was angry.
“It wasn't an accident and you know it!” she yelled. She moved forward, bringing her face within an inch of his. “And I'm not going to stick around and let that happen again.”
There was a look in her eyes he had never seen before: hatred. She leaned over and zipped the suitcase shut. She started to pull it off the bed, and Eric realized he couldn't let her go. She would probably never come back. He loved her too much to lose her.
He didn't mean for it to end the way it did. She was just so...stubborn. He grabbed the suitcase and pulled it out of her hands.
“No. You're not leaving. I'm your husband. Your home is with me. You're not going anywhere.”
He was trying to be understanding, but that's when she pushed him over the edge.
“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do? Hit me again?”
She had never used that tone of voice with him, and Eric knew there was no way he was going to win this argument with words. She grabbed his arm and tried to tear it away from the suitcase.
“You can't make me stay. I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do about it. Let me go or I'll call my parents to come get me!”
She pushed him away, and that's when he lost it. He grabbed her by the throat with both hands and shoved her against the wall. She kicked and thrashed her arms at him before trying to pry his hands away from her neck. Th
is only made him squeeze harder. She slowly stopped fighting him, but, because of his rage, Eric held tight for another few minutes.
When he finally let go, she fell to the floor and Eric knew she was dead. He hadn't meant to kill her. She just wouldn't listen.
When his emotions calmed, it became clear he needed to get rid of her body. He paced their bedroom floor, trying to think of where he could leave her so no one would find her. Then he heard the sound of the waves pounding against the sand. What better than the ocean?
Lightning flashed outside their window. Eric remembered hearing on the radio that a severe thunderstorm was predicted for during the night. He couldn't risk leaving her body at their house any longer. If her parents had been expecting her, they might come looking for her when she didn't show. He would have to brave the storm.
He and Stella owned a small fishing boat they mainly used inside the bay. The water could be rough outside the headlands, and it made Stella nervous to venture into the open waters on anything but a flat calm day. He looked down at her body on the hardwood floor. Sorry, Stella. Tonight we are going to have to risk it.
He couldn't just throw her overboard. He needed to make sure she would never wash up on shore. He pulled out all the frozen meat from their freezer and went into the garage to grab some rope. He used a knife to cut a hole in the middle of every steak and chicken breast. He strung them all onto the rope and tied it three times around her waist. He made sure the knot would hold before carrying her body to the garage. Even now, he was amazed at his quick thinking.
Eric threw her into the boat before running back inside to find his four heaviest dumbbells. He brought them into the garage, grabbed another long piece of rope, and hopped into the boat alongside his wife. He cut the rope into four pieces and tied each dumbbell to one of her limbs. Fortunately, he had a tarp in the garage and used it to cover her body. He placed the dumbbells on top of its edges to hold it down.
After hitching the boat to the back of his car, he drove fifteen minutes to the boat launch at Little Beach. Eric was happy to see the parking lot was empty and he was the only one there. It was silly to think he wouldn't be. No one else was desperate enough to be launching their boat at ten o'clock at night in the middle of a storm.
It was raining by the time he pulled the boat away from the pier. The roaring thunder and lightning flashes became more frequent as he pushed the throttle forward and steered toward the headlands. The water was choppy inside the bay, and Eric knew it would be much worse once he got outside the port. The visibility was terrible, even with his outer lights on. Somehow, he managed to pass safely through the headlands into the open ocean.
The boat rocked up and down on their way to the outer waters as he rode over the waves coming in with the tide. He checked to make sure Stella was still in the boat. He couldn't see a thing through the blur of the rain as he powered farther out. There were islands staggered throughout these waters, and he could only hope he didn't run into any of their limestone shores.
The area also had an outer reef that was popular with scuba divers, so he kept cruising until the ocean depth reached 150 meters. Eric pulled back on the throttle and put the boat into neutral. A wave crashed into the boat as he turned to grab Stella. He fell forward, his foot slipping on the wet tarp under his feet. His armpits landed on the side of the boat, which dipped into the rough sea from the weight of his body. His arms and top of his head went into the water, and, for a moment, Eric thought he was a goner.
He reached back and clasped one of his hands around the side of the boat. As it tilted upward from the force of another wave, Eric threw himself backward on top of Stella's body. He lay on the tarp and caught his breath while the boat thrashed around in the wild sea.
One by one, he slid each dumbbell that was tied to Stella's arms and legs off the top of the tarp. He grabbed her arms and pulled them over the side of the boat first. The boat rocked so violently he had to be careful not to get too close to the edge or he would go with her. Eric sat down and grabbed her waist on either side. He pushed her top half overboard, but her legs were still in the vessel, weighted down by his heavy dumbbells.
Thankful Stella hadn't been very big, he lifted her calves up and over the side. The dumbbells clunked against the side of the boat as she sank beneath the surface. Eric felt a rise in emotion when she disappeared into the deep, but he forced himself to stay calm. Now he had to get home.
With the aid of his compass and an incredible amount of luck, he succeeded in getting back inside the headlands of Port Stephens safe and sound with minimal damage to his boat. Eric would've felt like a hero if he hadn't just disposed of his wife's body.
When he got home, there was no sign of his in-laws. Stella must have not told them she was leaving him tonight. Eric knew they were partly to blame for her trying to leave him. They’d been planting the seed inside her head for years.
He parked the boat in the garage and went inside to take a warm shower. When he crawled into their empty bed, he tried not to think about the fact she was gone.
Eric went back to the hospital the next night as usual. He didn't want to appear suspicious by calling in sick, plus it helped take his mind off things.
A couple of Stella’s friends came by their house over the next few days wanting to know where she was. He told them she’d left him and had gone to stay with her parents. When Stella’s parents and sister heard this, they were furious. They accused him of all kinds of horrible things and said they were filing a missing person's report with the local police. He told them to go right ahead, but they were wasting their time. If she wasn’t staying with them like she’d said, she obviously didn’t want to be found. But they were adamant he had done something to her and knew where she was.
As time went on, her family became convinced Eric had killed her, and they tried to sell the police on this as well. They even went on national television and shared their story. Through tear-soaked eyes, they pleaded with Eric to confess what he had done to their daughter. But he never did. And the police never had enough evidence to arrest him. What was it Marky Mark had said? It's extremely difficult to solve a homicide without a body.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Eric moved to the front of the ferry as they got closer to Seattle. It didn't take long to see he had a problem. He’d underestimated the local law enforcement. A squad car and an unmarked vehicle were parked on either side of the ramp at the ferry dock. Two uniformed officers stood between the vehicles, ready to inspect every car as it got off the boat. The unmarked car likely belonged to Beavis and Butthead, who were probably waiting for him inside the walk-on passenger terminal.
Eric hurried back inside and down the nearest stairwell before most of the passengers returned to their cars. Once on the lower car deck, he moved toward the back of the boat. Fortunately, the setting sun would work to his advantage. He braced himself for what he had to do as the foamy water came into view.
He stopped when he reached the chain that had been pulled across the rear of the last car. A ferry worker stood at one end of the chain, waiting to remove the blocks from tires of the cars last in line once they docked. Crikey. It wouldn't exactly help his escape to jump off right in front of this bloke. He eyed Eric curiously while Eric planned his next move.
“You all right, sir?”
“Fine, thanks,” Eric replied as he turned toward the stairwell. It was full of passengers coming down to get back into their cars as he made his way up. Hopefully, that would mean there would be no witnesses on the rear upper deck. Keeping his head down, Eric bumped shoulders with more than one as he ascended the stairs two at a time.
Once upstairs, he dodged through more passengers heading back down to their vehicles. When he got close to the rear deck, he could see it was empty. Good. He was accosted by wind and rain when he opened the door and stepped outside. He grabbed hold of the railing and looked over the edge at the choppy waves that had grown darker with the setting sun. He realized the weather he was
enduring on the upper deck was nothing compared to what he was about to do.
Eric took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, glad he'd had the foresight to wear black. Seeing no one, he climbed over the railing, took a deep breath, and dove into the deep.
It took everything in him to not inhale from the shock of the cold the second he became submerged in the Sound. The rumbling of the ferry engine filled his senses and sent a vibration through his body. Eric forced himself to take a few strokes underwater before coming up for air. There was already good distance between him and the ferry.
He hyperventilated and forced himself to keep moving through the frigid water toward the shore. A wave came over his face and he inadvertently drank in salt water. He swam to the left as the ferry veered right. Eric focused on a pier down away from the ferry dock. At least he didn't have to worry about sharks in these waters like he would in Sydney, but he'd happily take his chances with them now to be free from this hypothermia.
Eric swam as fast as he could for the next few minutes but was dismayed to see the pier didn't look any closer. His body seemed to be slowing down. He may have underestimated the distance to the shore. Despite being out of breath, he concentrated on making one stroke after another, hoping his slow, continual progress would get him to the pier before his body shut down completely from the cold.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“He's not here,” Stephenson said after the last walk-on passenger had disembarked the ferry.
He had tried calling the doctor's cell on his way to the ferry, but, not surprisingly, the doctor's phone was off. He held his phone to his ear and peered over the railing at Adams who stood in the waiting bay below.
“I just checked the last car to leave the ferry. He wasn't in any of the vehicles. And none of the passengers recognized him from his driver's license photo.”
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