Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  “Maybe so, but there’s a lot left to be said, some of which it would be better to say in private.”

  His jaw clenched for a moment as she saw him struggle to control his rising temper.

  “Don’t you get it? Are you really that dense? Do you need me to say it?” He shook his head in mock wonder. “Whatever we had between us is over, Jillian. Over. Do you get it now? How much more plain do I need to be?”

  Turning away, he stalked toward the fireplace and placed his hands on the mantel, staring down into the flames.

  “That’s not why I’m here,” Jill said, stepping forward. Her hands clenched into fists as she continued. “I think it’s shitty how you ended things, but that’s how it goes. I’m here because I wanted to see if we could find a way to put the past behind us. Move on.”

  His stare was flat, and she pushed the creeping doubts aside as she continued. “Getting involved was a crazy thing to do. We both showed poor judgment.”

  “So?” Jamie blinked at her, as if not grasping her meaning.

  “So, can’t we forget about the affair and just focus on business?”

  The stern look on Jamie’s face shifted to reflect pure incredulity.

  “You threaten me with a sexual-harassment lawsuit, and you think that you can make it all go away? How bloody delusional are you? I take it that my promotion has been announced and has finally clued you in to the desperate circumstances in which you find yourself.”

  “I saw the announcement, but—”

  “But what? You were hoping that I would somehow forget?”

  Jill shifted, placing her hands on her hips as she stared at him. The face she once thought of as handsome now contorted into a cruel smile. She could feel her cheeks burn as the enormity of his words sunk in.

  “Come on, Jamie. It doesn’t have to end like this. We’re both adults. Be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?” He jabbed a finger toward her. “You’re a pretty serious liability. No one threatens me and gets away with it, Jillian. You should have known the stakes in the game you were playing.”

  Placing his hands on his hips, he regarded her for a long moment. “I was in the middle of cooking lunch when you came by. You’ll understand if I don’t invite you to join me.”

  Without another word, he elbowed his way past her and exited through the open French doors to the deck. Jill stood rooted to the spot. Her head swam. She felt like she was under water and fighting her way to the surface. Nothing she could say would make any difference. He was done with her and was going to find a way to get rid of her, the sooner the better.

  At length, she followed him out to the snow-covered deck and stood watching as he placed a salmon filet on a plate and turned off the grill. The smell should have awakened her appetite. She had not eaten all day. Instead, her stomach turned.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she bit her lip hard, struggling to regain her composure. Was this really how he was going to end things? By dumping her? Ruining her? Destroying her marriage? How could it be this easy for him? She would not, could not, give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  “Isn’t there some way to make this better?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

  “Poor little Jillian, you really don’t like to lose, do you?” The words hung between them in the frigid afternoon air. “Still trying to squeeze out some pitifully small victory from this pathetic situation?”

  She stood tall, squaring her shoulders as she drew in a deep breath.

  Round three.

  “Actually, Jamie, I won’t lose this time.” Her voice projected a confidence she didn’t quite feel.

  “Really? How do you figure?” He set the plate down beside the barbecue and leaned back against the railing of the deck, his venomous gaze fixed on her.

  “Okay, let’s look at this objectively. You took on a high-profile project and put it at risk. How am I supposed to feel good about your leadership capabilities?” He tilted his head as he looked at her, a crooked smile twisting his lips. “I’m afraid you’re falling short of expectations.”

  Jill clenched her fists hard, struggling to keep her voice even. “That’s it? My career at ZyraNet is finished?”

  He nodded, his smile thin.

  “If you’re smart, you’ll resign and quietly fuck off.”

  Jill’s mouth worked, but no sounds came out. Several moments passed before she found her voice.

  “I’ve worked my ass off, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Did you really think I would allow you to continue after what you’ve done? Are you daft? If you had just let it go, you might have stood a chance. Instead, you’ve threatened me with sexual harassment, followed me out here. How could I possibly trust you? Really, Jill, you had to know this is how it would end.”

  Jill drew in a shaky breath, trying to absorb the import of his words. In a tremulous voice, she continued.

  “Didn’t I mean anything to you?”

  A smirk twisted his lips as he studied her.

  “Sure. Just another perk of the position.”

  Jill gasped, like she’d been punched in the stomach. A swell of rage broke over her, and despite the cold air, a furious heat pulsed through her veins.

  “A perk? I’m a fucking perk? Like the lovely Ms. Evans?”

  Surprise rippled across his face before he masked it with an arid smile.

  “Something like that. In fact, I consider her an upgrade.”

  “You egomaniacal bastard. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  His smile hardened. The snowflakes landed on the barbeque cover with a hiss.

  “Lovely. I’m glad we had this chat, but now it’s time for you to leave. Off now. Go back to your husband while you still have him.”

  “This is between you and me. Leave Alex out of this.”

  Jamie placed a hand on the snow-covered railing. He touched his lips as his mocking expression turned thoughtful.

  “You know, I can’t help but wonder what kind of detective your husband is. Can’t be very good if he doesn’t see through your pathetic little act.”

  “He trusts me.”

  “Ah, a good judge of character, then,” he said with a grin. “I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out what you’ve been up to. Do you think he’ll forgive you?” Jamie raised his eyebrows, his expression speculative.

  “He won’t find out about you,” Jill said with more confidence than she felt.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He faced her again with his arms crossed, voice deliberately slow, as if speaking to a child. “Listen carefully to me. Jillian. I’m only going to say this once. It would be better for both of us if what went on between us stays a secret, but I do promise that if you cause any more trouble, I will tell him every tawdry detail of our little affair.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in.

  “Do you get it now, Jillian? I have nothing to lose, but you will lose everything—your husband, your career. That much I promise you.”

  Jill felt the blood drain from her face as she fought to suck in a breath of the cold mountain air. Time seemed to slow to a halt as she stared at him. The snow was falling steadily. The sound of her heart hammering in her chest was almost audible. What would Alex do if he learned about the affair? One thing was for certain: she did not want to find out.

  “You wouldn’t do that.” She could barely breathe now. The murderous look on his face told her that he was dead serious.

  “Just fucking try me, bitch,” he hissed, turning toward the French doors.

  A wave of intense heat coursed through Jill’s body. Her vision narrowed and blurred around the edges. She screamed. She felt the rage inside her bursting from her chest. Surging forward, she slammed her palms hard against his shoulders. He lurched sideways.

  There was barely time to breathe as she saw him stumble, sliding on the icy deck. Jamie grasped for the railing and missed. Jill stared in horror as he went careening wildly down the steep staircase.r />
  There was no time to reach out for him. He was gone in the blink of an eye. She heard the crash of wood as the railing splintered underneath his weight. Jamie screamed. And then there was nothing. Jill stood alone on the deck, scarcely able to believe what had just happened.

  The terrible silence that followed was suffocating. She was not sure how much time passed before the world around her began to move once more. She could hear the rustling of the swaying trees. Her hot breath escaped her lungs in a cloud of steam as she waited.

  “Jamie,” Jill called out, easing her way cautiously forward to the top of the stairs. She choked on a gasp as she looked down into the snow below.

  Jamie had landed on the frozen ground at the foot of the stairs. His head had struck a boulder near the base of the staircase and was propped up at an odd angle. Bright-red blood stained the snow.

  Jill wanted to look away, but she was transfixed by the sight below. His glasses were askew, and she could see his lifeless eyes staring up at her. She recognized the mask of death, had seen it on her little brother’s blood-streaked face through the twisted metal of the car wreck.

  Jamie was dead. And she had killed him. Her hand covered her mouth as she drew in a ragged breath.

  Oh, my God.

  Eventually the cold brought her out of her daze. She struggled to make sense of her own thoughts. Should she call 911? What would she say? Would they believe it was an accident? Alex would find out everything. If they linked her with this scene, everyone would find out what had happened between them and that she was responsible for his death. Her life, as she knew it, would be over.

  No. Too risky, she decided. They had a history between them, and involving the police might expose the nature of their relationship. If the truth was revealed, she might lose everything. Could she cover her tracks? Jill stood in the snow and stole a fleeting glance inside.

  Maybe. There were few connections between her and this place. She’d taken the day off and hadn’t told anyone where she was going. After her all-nighter, work would assume she’d gone home to sleep. Alex assumed she was in San Jose. Jamie didn’t expect her. No one knew the truth. No one knew she was here.

  Jill’s racing heart slowed, and an eerie calm descended upon her. She felt like she was watching herself from a great distance. The snow fell from the gray sky in fat, chunky flakes. If this kept up, there would be no evidence of her footprints or the tire tracks outside.

  With one last look at Jamie, she turned and walked back toward the cabin. Stopping long enough to strip off her snowy boots, she stepped through the French doors and quickly scanned the interior of the living room. What had she touched? What clues had she left behind?

  Think like Alex, she told herself.

  She had spent precious little time inside the house. The only thing she had taken off was her gloves. She paused, looking back at the door. He had opened it. She had not touched the door. She would leave it open, she decided. The deck was icy. It was plausible that he had slipped and fallen on his own.

  Jill eyed the room with a clinical detachment, confident that if she kept her cool, she could make all of this go away.

  She used the towel to swab away any tracks her boots had made on the floor. She wiped down anything she might have touched, then balled up the towel and shoved it into her coat pocket. Standing at the front door, she spun around for one last look. That should be it.

  Pulling her gloves and boots back on, she let herself out, twisting the lock behind her.

  Back in the SUV, she slid the gearshift into drive. The urge to pin the accelerator to the mat, to get as far away from the cabin as fast as she could, was palpable. Exercising the limits of her self-control, she pulled away from the cabin slowly. Her eyes searched the rearview mirror and focused on the cabin disappearing in the distance. Snow caked on the steepled roof. Gray smoke billowed into the cold air. The passing trees marked her progress, and the windshield wipers swished as she drove down the winding road. She checked the mirror again and again until at last the cabin behind her disappeared from view.

  Jill forced herself to relax her hands on the steering wheel and drew in a deep, cleansing breath. She had to be careful now. She couldn’t afford to skid off into the ditch or get into an accident. She couldn’t be noticed by anyone she might pass on the road. It had to appear like she had never been here.

  The gloom of the afternoon closed in around her. The white beam of the headlights reflected off of the snow drilling into the windshield. The sooner she could get back to Interstate 80, the better. There was no telling when conditions would deteriorate to the point that the road might close, leaving her stranded. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw flashing lights approach.

  The police? She went rigid with fear. Could someone have heard Jamie’s scream? No. Yellow lights. A snow plow passed, going in the opposite direction. Reflexively, she checked the rearview mirror again as she drove by.

  The spray from the plow covered the rented Escalade’s tracks in a white flurry of powder. If the forecast was right, heavy snow would continue to fall for the next several days. The road would likely close. If her luck held out, it would be days before anyone missed Jamie. She would be home in Seattle by midnight, tucked safely in bed beside her husband, the cop.

  Jill tried to block the images from her mind, but as hard as she tried, all she could think about was Jamie growing cold in his open grave. His red blood sinking into the pristine snow blooming scarlet, like a winter rose.

  18

  The rain hammered relentlessly on the roof of the cab. The hiss of the blasting heater seemed too loud, the oppressive heat adding to her queasy desire to escape. It felt too close in here.

  She handed him thirty bucks and told him to keep the change.

  “You wan’ receipt?” the taxi driver asked in passable English.

  “No,” Jill replied and stepped into the rainy night. The less evidence of her trip, the better. She had already left more of a paper trail than she wanted. The damp chill of the air cut her straight to the core. She pulled her coat closer.

  The door squeaked on its hinges as she opened it. Entering the house, Jill could detect the lingering scent of embers smoldering in the fireplace. Cedar. A small nest of warmth on this miserable Seattle night.

  Home. Safe. Relief flooded through her, the feeling so strong that her knees threatened to give way. Home, she thought again, far from the horrors of Lake Tahoe. Jamie’s broken body laid to rest under a frigid blanket of snow.

  Jill pulled off her coat and hung it on the wall rack by the door. Leaving her bag on the landing, she climbed the stairs, fatigue having long since set in.

  The house was quiet. The ticking of the mantel clock faded in the distance as she traversed the hall on the second floor. Molly emerged from the bedroom door, wagging her tail as she approached Jill. The dog stopped a few feet away and took a long sniff in the air. Her tail stalled midswing.

  “Come here, girl,” Jill said softly, reaching out a hand toward Molly’s muzzle. The dog did not respond. After a long moment, the Lab returned to the bedroom, leaving Jill alone in the hallway.

  Jill stared after her. Could Molly sense death? No, that was crazy. She needed to forget about Jamie. She needed sleep.

  With tired hands, Jill stripped off her clothes, letting the garments fall heedlessly to the floor. Pulling back the sheets, she paused, looking down at Alex’s sleeping form.

  His face was barely visible in the dull light of the room. He looked so young lying there. Tranquil. Innocent. For the longest time she sat on the bed, aching to touch him. She reached out toward him, fingertips suspended inches above his face before she let them drop to the cool sheets. Best not to wake him, she thought.

  His chest rose and fell with his deep, even breaths. At last Jill slipped in between the sheets, giving in to her exhaustion. Lying here beside Alex made everything all right. Feeling at peace, she started to drift away.

  Teetering on the soft edge of sleep, she suddenly
opened her eyes. Had she forgotten anything at the cabin? What if someone found out about the affair, or her visit to Tahoe? In the darkened room, underneath the warm covers, she could picture Jamie’s body slowly disappearing under a blanket of snow.

  Jill felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Reluctantly she pushed through the warm layers of sleep that enveloped her and allowed herself to surface. Her eyes squinted against the dull morning light seeping through the bedroom windows.

  Alex perched on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting lightly on her shoulder.

  “I brought you some coffee,” he said, inclining his head toward the night table.

  “Thanks. What time is it?”

  “Well past eight.”

  “Damn,” she said, rubbing her eyes and propping herself up against her pillows.

  “You got in late last night. I’m surprised you didn’t stay over in San Jose.”

  Averting her eyes, she reached over to pick up her coffee.

  “I’ve been away long enough. I just wanted to get home.” She took a sip from the steaming mug, wrapping her fingers around it for maximum transfer of heat.

  “I’m sorry we were interrupted on Sunday.” Alex said with a serious look on his face.

  “A break in the case?”

  “Yes and no. We have a suspect, but we haven’t found him, or Natalie.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how hard you’ve been pushing on this one.”

  “So about Sunday …”

  Jill did not flinch, but met his gaze directly. She had created the distance between them, with work, with Jamie, with the secrets she’d been keeping. Fear hovered beneath the surface of her emotions. Fear of losing Alex. Fear of her role in Jamie’s death being discovered. The world felt fragile to Jill, as if the smallest of shifts could bring everything crashing down around her.

  How could she share any of it with Alex? She couldn’t. There was no way she could make him understand. Duty came first for him. He’d call the authorities in California, and everything would be exposed. Everything. No. She would involve him only if she had no other choice. Some secrets were meant to be kept.