Dead Pretty

by Samantha Towle

  “So what if you did speak to him!” I’m getting agitated. “That means nothing! He could have left and …”

  I stop my words because he didn’t leave me that night. He was there, in my apartment. I was tied up and blindfolded. I couldn’t see him. But I could hear him. Moving around that room. But even if he hadn’t moved a muscle for those horrific hours, I would have known he was there. I could feel him there, watching me.

  “But he didn’t leave, did he?” Jack’s eyes are focused wholly on me. “You said in your testimony that whoever was in your room with you, he never left you alone, not even for a second. From the moment he broke into your apartment until the moment he left, he was there with you the whole time.” Jack takes a measured step toward me. “You never saw his face. Never heard his voice. It could have been anyone.” Another step closer. “Anyone, Audrey.”

  “The knife was found in his room!” I can feel panic at the memory of that night. The fear I felt pouring into my blood, poisoning my veins. “It was covered in my blood! The same knife that killed all of those women.”

  Jack stays where he stands. His face is resolute. He believes what he says … thinks. “It was put there by the real killer.”

  “No!” I yell. I cover my face with my hands.

  Why is he doing this to me?

  I’m shaking so badly.

  I’m hurt and angry. I don’t know what to do with these feelings … it’s too much.

  I want …

  I don’t know what I want.

  I suddenly feel tired. Drained. Exhausted. I just want to go to sleep. Forget about all of this.

  I drag my hands down from my face, feeling weary. “What do you want from me, Jack?”

  His expression softens. “I don’t want anything from you, Audrey. No, that’s not true. I do want something from you … you. I want you.”

  “You didn’t come here for me. You came here for your brother.”

  “That is true. I came here because I wanted to find the person who had put my brother in jail. You were the only link I had to help make that happen. I just didn’t expect to …”

  “What?” My laugh is bitter. “You didn’t expect to want to fuck me?”

  “Love you,” he says. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”

  Those words pierce me harder and hurt so much more than anything else he’s said so far.

  “You need to leave.”

  “Audrey … please.”

  “Leave!” I cry.

  His shoulders slump. “I can’t.”

  “Why? Because you think that I’m the key to your brother’s freedom? News flash: I’m not. I think he did it! And nothing you say can change my mind.”

  I’m hurt and confused. Misery has lodged itself into my throat. “What are you going to do? Hold me hostage like Tobias did?”

  Jack looks appalled. “No. Of course not. But I can’t leave you alone either.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but Jack cuts me off, “It’s not safe for you here, Audrey. That picture was put in my wallet. I will swear on whatever you want me to, so you’ll believe me when I say that it’s not mine. Meaning someone put it there. Whether you believe that Tobias is guilty or not is irrelevant right now. Someone wanted you to know who I was—”

  “Maybe a decent person who thought I had a right to know the truth.”

  “Then, why access my private property and plant the picture in my wallet? Why not just give it to you? A decent person would do that. No, someone wanted you to find it. They wanted to drive us apart. Why? I’d say it was so you’d be alone.”

  “I was alone for months before I even met you. Nothing happened.”

  “Not true. Murders have happened. The guy at your work and his girlfriend. Those women who were killed before I even got here.”

  I’m staring at him, unsure of what to say.

  “The dead rat in your apartment.”

  A cold feeling washes over me. “That was nothing.”

  “You know it wasn’t. I don’t know what’s happening here. What the end game is. But I know it includes you. It always circles back to you.”

  “It always circles back to you.”

  “You’re not safe here, Audrey.”

  “Maybe I’m not safe because of you. Or with you.” I’m so tired. I’m surprised I’m even still able to stand.

  “I won’t ever hurt you, Audrey. I never would.”

  “But you already have,” I say quietly.

  The silence hanging between us is fraught and heavy. And what he said is penetrating.

  I might not believe that Tobias is innocent like Jack does. But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong about there being someone else involved. Or even a copycat. Like I’ve feared all along. Someone watching and waiting. To finish off what was started.

  “So … if I’m not safe here, then what do I do?”

  “Leave here. With me. I can take you someplace safe until we can figure this out.”

  “Or I could go to the police.”

  “And tell them what? That someone put a picture in my wallet?”

  Okay. So, he has a point. But even still …

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, Jack. I don’t trust you.”

  He sighs. “I know I’m the last person you want to be around at the moment—and with good reason. But being alone is not a good idea for you right now either. I have a safe place I can take you. It’s a cabin up in the mountains—”

  “I can keep myself safe, thanks. No way in hell am I staying in a cabin in the mountains with you.”

  Truth is, I don’t know if I can keep myself safe. I couldn’t the last time. I have nowhere to go. It’s not like I can go back to Chicago. I would only be putting Cole at risk if I did. But a cabin up in the mountains with Jack isn’t an option either.

  “Do you own a gun?” Jack asks me out of nowhere.

  I frown. “No.”

  I hate guns. I hate any kind of weapons. Hence why I have never carried one. Only ever my can of mace and my rape alarm.

  “Then, you can’t keep yourself safe.”

  My arms fold across my chest. “I don’t need a gun to do that.”

  “Self-defense will only get you so far.”

  He does have a point. But still …

  “Do you have a … gun?” I ask warily.

  “Yes,” he says slowly, seemingly gauging my reaction. “And it can keep us both safe.”

  Sighing, I walk over on wobbly legs and sit down heavily on the sofa. I shake my head. “I can’t leave with you. Firstly, I don’t trust you—kind of a big one. And secondly, the only thing triggering this is a photo in your wallet, which you say was planted.”

  “It was.” He takes a seat on the coffee table, putting him in front of me.

  I can smell the mint from the soap he used in the shower that he took not so long ago. Even though it feels like a lifetime ago.

  He’s become a different person to me in such a short period of time.

  Yet I still feel exactly the same about him.

  It’s confusing.

  If, an hour ago, he had sat here, asking me to go on a trip with him, I would have said yes without hesitation.

  But he is also not the Jack I knew from an hour ago.

  And he is most definitely not asking me to go away for the weekend with him.

  He’s asking me to go into hiding with him from a mystery person who might not even exist. Based solely on the fact that a picture was put in his wallet.

  “I think you’re overreacting about this, Jack. I really do.”

  “And I get why you think that. Because you think the real killer is behind bars. I know he’s not. I was worried about your safety, Audrey, but nothing has happened to you since you moved here, aside from finding that dead rat in your apartment, so I figured you were safe for now. This photo in my wallet changes everything. Someone wants you away from me. That might not put you in immediate danger, but it means something is happening, and I’m not willing to
put your safety at risk.”

  “Maybe if I just stay away from you, that will solve all of my problems,” I say the words with all the anger I feel inside of me.

  Jack sighs. It sounds defeated. “Okay. Just promise me … you’ll be careful. And if anything happens—”

  “Then, I’ll call the police first.”

  The hurt in his eyes causes an ache in my chest to bloom.

  I hate that I have feelings for him. It makes this so much harder.

  Jack nods. It’s a final kind of nod.

  It splinters something inside of me. But I let it fragment, and when he gets up and leaves my apartment, I don’t stop him. Even though my tortured heart is crying for him to stay.

  A shadow.

  I jump out of sleep. Bolting upright. Heart beating like crazy in my chest.

  I hate it when I have those nightmares. He’s always there. I just can’t ever see his face. Always a shadow.

  I press a hand to my chest and try to steady my heart and breaths.

  Mouth dry, I get out of bed and go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  As I’m walking, the memories of yesterday flood me. Finding out who Jack is. Who his brother is …

  I’m still struggling to believe it.

  But really, I shouldn’t be surprised. I have no luck in life. Only bad Karma finds me. Over and over.

  The worst thing is that I miss Jack.

  I hate knowing that he is just down the hall in his apartment, sleeping, and I’m here, alone, without him.

  Could we get past this?

  Could I?

  I won’t deny that a part of me wants to. But I don’t see how we could.

  Considering his brother is in prison, partly for crimes committed against me.

  The thought of all of this brings an ache to my chest. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t. So, I do what I do best. I box up all thoughts of Jack and pack them away in my mind.

  I get a glass from the cupboard and the water from the fridge, and then I pour myself a drink.

  I take a sip.

  I feel restless. I know I won’t get any more sleep tonight.

  If Jack were here—

  Stop.

  Sighing, I sit down on the sofa. I look at the book on the coffee table. It has been so long since I read a book.

  I have been too busy with—

  Nope.

  I put my glass of water down and pick the book up. I open it up. The words on the page blur into one.

  “Great. I can’t even read now.” I slap the pages of the book together and toss it onto the coffee table.

  And knock the glass of water over.

  “Shit!”

  The water is running off the table onto the floor.

  Just fucking great.

  Righting the now-empty glass, I jog to the kitchen and grab the paper towels from the cupboard.

  Taking it back with me, I stare down at the mess.

  It’s everywhere.

  Fuck my life.

  Bending down, I start mopping up the water.

  I didn’t know a glass could hold so much damn water.

  I’m on my hands and knees, mopping the floor up.

  Christ.

  It’s gone under the sofa.

  I slip a hand under, trying to wipe it dry, but it’s run too far for me to reach.

  I’m going to have to move the sofa.

  Ugh. I really should have stayed in bed.

  I put my hands on the base of the sofa and give it a firm shove back. It moves back a bit.

  Another shove. It goes back farther this time now that I’ve got some momentum going.

  A bit farther back, and I’ll be able to clean this mess up.

  One. Two. Three.

  I give it a big shove.

  It slides back easily.

  Bingo.

  I grab some fresh paper towels, and on my hands and knees again, I start wiping the water up.

  As I move around on the floor, one of the floorboards shifts. Pushes down at one side under my weight, the other side coming up.

  Oh great. A loose floorboard.

  I’ll have to get the super to fix it.

  I bet the water has trickled down through the gap. I get some more towels and wipe around the loose board, making sure it’s dry before I push it back into place.

  Light glinting on something silver catches my eye through the gap in the floorboard.

  What is that?

  The imaginative reader in me has a brief fantasy of finding buried treasure under here.

  Under a floorboard in an apartment. Yeah, sure, Audrey.

  It’s more likely that a coin dropped under here or a nail came out of the floorboard.

  Curious, I put my fingertip under the lip of the floorboard and ease it up.

  It comes up easier than I expected it to.

  Lifting it free, I pause with it in my hand when I see what’s lying beneath my floor.

  A knife.

  Next to it is a stained cloth.

  My heart starts to beat faster. The stains look like blood.

  And there’s a blue velvet jewelry pouch.

  It reminds me of the one my mother used to keep her pearls in.

  Pulse beating in my ears, I reach down and pick up the pouch.

  Pulling the string open, I look inside.

  There are two rings, a necklace, a bracelet, and a man’s wristwatch.

  “What the hell is this?” I whisper to myself.

  I sense movement in the corner of my eye.

  Spinning my head around, I stifle a scream.

  Relief replaces fear when I see who it is. Even if I am confused as to why he’s here.

  “Jesus, Cole!” I exclaim to my brother, pressing my hand to my chest, covering my thudding heart. “You just scared ten years off my life.”

  Cole steps around from behind me and kneels on the floor in front of me. His knees just touching mine. But he doesn’t say anything.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” My head swivels to my closed front door. “How did you get in?”

  He still says nothing.

  I stare at him. He looks tired. His hair is unkempt. His clothes are wrinkled.

  Which is strange because Cole is always impeccable. His hair is always neatly combed. Clothes always ironed.

  And he’s acting strange. I mean, Cole is often weird. But this sudden appearance in my apartment and this overly long, stretching silence are odd, even for him.

  “Cole? Answer me.”

  Nothing. His eyes are looking down at the things I’ve found.

  “They were in my floor,” I tell him. “I spilled some water and found these beneath a loose floorboard under the sofa. There’s jewelry in this pouch. Don’t you think it looks like the one Mom used to keep her pearls in? And I’m pretty sure that’s blood on that cloth.”

  Cole sighs. Finally, a response comes from him. “You weren’t supposed to find these, Audrey.”

  “What?” I laugh, but it’s a nervous sound. Something doesn’t feel right. “What do you mean, I wasn’t supposed to find these? You’re acting really weird, Cole. You never answered my question as to what you’re doing here. I never told you where I lived. So, how did you know where to find me?”

  “I always know where you are, Audrey.”

  I’m staring at him, and I have this alien feeling. Fear. I have never once felt that around Cole. He has always been my protector. He’s always taken care of me. He would never hurt me. But right now … I’m not so sure.

  “Cole, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  The expression on his face is sad. He takes the pouch from my hand and puts it back into the floor where I found it, next to the knife and stained cloth.

  Cole reaches for my hand. It’s shaking. So hard that I can barely feel his hand touching mine. His fingers entwine with mine. I stare down at them.

  What is happening here? Why can’t I feel him?

  “It’s time,
Audrey.”

  I blink up at him. My vision goes hazy. “Time for what?” I hear myself saying.

  “For you to rest.”

  Then, he moves so fast that I don’t have time to react.

  And then it’s just blackness.

  Cole

  I hate to do this.

  I don’t want to hurt Audrey.

  I never want to hurt her.

  But I don’t have a choice.

  She wasn’t supposed to find those things. My things. My private things.

  She was never meant to know about any of this.

  But she found them, leaving me with no other option.

  I know Audrey. She would have overthought things. Thought about the maybes and whys. She would have thought of the recent murders. And then she would have taken them to Jack, and he would have told her to take them to the police. Because he would have thought that they might be able to help get his brother out of jail.

  And he would have been right.

  So, they have to go.

  Just like last time.

  Although, the last time, when I had to frame Tobias for the murders, it was because the police were beginning to get suspicious.

  In the beginning, they had seen Audrey as a victim. But as time went on, I could tell their thoughts were beginning to change. They were starting to wonder if maybe Audrey had actually played a part in the murders.

  I couldn’t have that.

  I needed to point their scent another way.

  And Tobias—poor, stupid Tobias who lived down the street and had a crush on Audrey—was perfect.

  But now, it’s Audrey, not the police, who has left me with no other choice.

  I walk over to the kitchen, get some disposable gloves from the drawer, and put them on.

  Laying out some paper towels on the floor, I pick up the knife and cleaning cloth and place them on the pouch of jewelry—my small souvenirs from my victims.

  None of my DNA or fingerprints are on any of these. I’m always careful to keep my things free of anything that can be traced back to me. But now, Audrey has touched the velvet pouch.

  I sigh. I tip the jewelry out onto a paper towel and put the knife and cleaning cloth with them. Then, I put the pouch back into the floor and put the floorboard back in place.

  I wrap the items up in a paper towel and get to my feet, bringing them with me.