Hush

by Jay Lang

  “Jade. You are literally the only person I can trust right now. I need you. Please don’t leave me alone to go through all of this. I swear, if I’m by myself, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  I know what he’s insinuating, and I feel a mixture of fear and anger. I feel like I’m being blackmailed. Then I hear him let out a soft sob, and I remember who he is. My brother. My only brother.

  “You can’t stay here, Denny. But…but I can still try and help you. Tell me what I can do.”

  He lets out a sigh; I can’t tell if it’s from frustration or relief. “Pick me up at the Gabriola ferry tomorrow at 10 AM. I’ll have a plan on where to stay by then.”

  “What about another B&B?”

  “Forget it, Jade. If an owner gets a sniff of me being wanted by the cops, they won’t think twice about throwing me under the bus.”

  I agree to pick up Denny in the morning. Annie will have gone to work, so I’ll have the free time. I just hope he knows what he’s doing and has a plan. I’m so preoccupied by Denny that the journal is pushed from my mind.

  * * *

  Annie and I have dinner at the marina. She’s in good spirits because she loves her new job. While we’re eating, a couple of the locals recognize her from the flower shop and approach the table. They talk about plants they recently purchased and Annie offers them advice on feeding and caring for them. I feel kind of jealous—not because she knows people that I don’t, but because her attention is being diverted. Lately I’ve barely spent any time with her, and when I do, she’s often tired, with energy only for a quick meal and then bed. Even though she was hired for part time, lately she’s been doing full time hours, and with her condition she’s barely awake by the end of the meal. I thought that tonight, by going out for dinner, we could have a discussion deeper than what is quick to cook. Apparently, that’s true, but the discussion isn’t with me.

  When we get home, I take my leftovers from the restaurant and give them to Stinky. Annie gets into her pjs and then turns on the TV. Just as I put on my shorts and a tank top, there’s a knock at the door. Stinky lifts his head from his food and barks.

  Oh no. Denny, you absolute ass. If he got into a panic and drove his boat over, Annie will lose it. “Just a minute,” I call, throwing on my housecoat and putting Stinky in the bedroom.

  “Who could that be this late?” asks Annie. She gives me a suspicious look.

  I shrug. “I am wondering the same thing.”

  Taking a deep breath, I walk to the door and open it.

  “Jade, how are you?” Dickson says, his hand leaning on the door frame. Behind him are two uniformed cops with flashlights.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a search warrant,” he says, lazily waving some papers.

  Annie is suddenly next to me. “What’s this about?” she asks. Her voice is calm.

  “Denny Banks is wanted for questioning. Because of your connection to him and the case, we need to check your house and property.”

  “Denny isn’t here,” I say. The words sound distant in my ears.

  My brain starts cycling. Did they tap our phones and hear our call earlier? I realise that my hands are shaking. I feel guilty as hell and I know I look it.

  The three men walk in. When Dickson walks past me, my heart is pounding so hard, I swear he can hear it. They’re a lot more curious than when they were on the property before. When one of the cops goes to open the bedroom door, Stinky starts to bark, and the cop hesitates, shooting me a glance. “It’s just Stinky,” I tell him. He looks nonplussed. I look at Dickson. “Is this going to take long?”

  “Shouldn’t, unless we find something,” says Dickson.

  I go and retrieve Stinky from the bedroom, He continues to bark loudly and with purpose, no matter how much I shush him. Knowing there’s nothing we can do while the cops search our home, Annie and I sit closely together on the sofa with Stinky between us. Eventually, after some long ear scratches from Annie, he quiets down, though his eyes stay locked on the officers.

  After fifteen or twenty minutes, they’ve been in every room in the cottage. I can’t imagine how they took that long—it seemed, to me, that all it would take is a glance in every room. Denny’s not exactly small. He can’t fit under a dresser.

  “Do you have a cellar?” Dickson asks me.

  “No.”

  “How about an attic or a crawlspace?”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t been up there in years. I think my parents used if for storing patio things and gardening tools.”

  “Where is the entrance?”

  I walk him over to the walk-in pantry and turn the light on. I point to the small square in the ceiling above a shelf of canned goods, just big enough to squeeze through. He asks for me to get him a chair and then calls the other officers into the room. I return to the couch and wait.

  Rustling noises and the odd coughing sounds come from the pantry as the men struggle to investigate the small attic. A few minutes later the three reappear, their clothing dirty from attic dirt and pink insulation dust.

  Dickson walks to the middle of the living room with the other men following close behind. He looks at me, and I can’t avert my attention. I know this makes me look even more guilty. “When is the last time you spoke to your brother?”

  I stare into his eyes, but inside I’m panicking. I don’t know what’s in a search warrant—I don’t know if it extends to cell phone information. I could tell him I don’t have my phone on me if he asks. Would he search me if I resist? I can’t imagine he could, unless I am being put under arrest. But what do I know? I think of what Denny said about Dickson. ‘The guy just wants a conviction.’

  I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell him the truth. Not with Annie sitting right here.

  I force myself to hold his gaze and not blink. “Our wedding reception. He showed up and I asked him to leave. That was the extent of our conversation. I don’t know where he went after that.”

  The detective doesn’t comment Instead, he looks at Annie. “Is that right, Annie?”

  Oh no. I look at Annie. Her expression is blank. Is she weighing her options? I lied to the police, but it didn’t mean she had to, and telling the truth—that Denny had gone to a B&B—could mean the potential arrest of a man who hurt her.

  I cringe inwardly as Annie clears her throat. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened.”

  I let out a long breath, trying not to make it obvious.

  “Okay,” Dickson says, nodding slowly. He looks between us. “Be sure to give me a call if you hear anything. You have my number.”

  The men leave the house. I walk behind them and watch as they head down the stairs, then I close the door with a sigh.

  I wait until I hear the car pull away before sitting back with Annie on the couch. I grab her hand. “Why didn’t you tell the truth? About Denny?”

  She looks at me like I am crazy. “Because you didn’t. I’m not getting you in trouble, Jade.” There’s a coolness to her tone—I had, after all, defended Denny once again—but I can’t help but put my arms around her.

  Too rattled to watch TV, we head to bed. She falls asleep quickly, but I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling. All I can think about is calling Denny and telling him not to come tomorrow. I am right, of course—it’s much to exposed here. He’s got to try and figure out another place to stay. The thought brings with it a wave of relief, and I manage to drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A dense fog rolls into our bay and creeps up the shore to the cottage. I make Annie tea and a croissant before she bundles up and heads off to work. Stinky and I walk her to her car. As soon as the taillights disappear down the narrow driveway, I slide my phone out of my pocket. His phone doesn’t even ring, it just goes straight to messages. I let out a curse and shove the phone back in my pocket. I’m supposed to meet him at the ferry in two hours. I wonder if he purposely turned off his phone so I couldn’t call and back out. He knows I won’t leave h
im high and dry without telling him.

  They’ll probably have someone watching for him. If I don’t show up, he’ll try to hitchhike, and he’ll be spotted for sure.

  I go back inside, feed Stinky and sit at the kitchen table. I retry Denny several more times. Time passes quickly. It’s getting closer and closer to when I’m supposed to pick him up. In an effort to distract myself, I change our bedding, sweep the floors and load the dishwasher. I realise that his phone could be off because the police had nabbed him. Either way, if he doesn’t pick up, I have to drive to the terminal. I gave my word.

  A small part of me hopes that he has been arrested. Not because I think he’s guilty, but because if he is in jail, the chance of him trying to kill himself is a lot less.

  I drink the last sip of cold tea and glance up at the clock. I have twenty minutes to get to the ferry. Slowly I put on a jacket and my hiking boots, then put a leash on Stinky and head out. It’s pouring rain. Dark, angry clouds are bunched over the bay. With each mile we drive from the cottage, the weather clears more. The rain stops, and bits of blue appear in the sky. How I wish I could just pick up Annie at work and keep driving, away from the murder investigation and away from everything that’s happened to us since Dad died.

  I follow the road that leads to the terminal parking lot. Parking to the side of the ticket booth, I watch as foot passengers disembark and walk to waiting vehicles. I scan each person, looking for Denny, but there’s still no sign of him. As cars drive up to the drop-off zone and new passengers get out to board the next sailing, I let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t make the ferry, or he changed his mind about coming.

  I put the truck in gear and edge towards the parking lot exit, stuck behind a lady in a van who moves about half a kilometre an hour.

  “Jade,” a faint voice calls from outside.

  Shit.

  I step on my brakes and look in my rear-view mirror. A man with a green packsack slung over his shoulder is running towards my truck. A wave of anxiety engulfs me. As much as I want to press on the gas, I keep my foot on the brake.

  He’s out of breath when he jumps into the passenger seat and moves Stinky over. “Thanks for coming.”

  I nod as I move painfully slow towards the road, away from the populated terminal. “Can you slouch more, or something?”

  “What?”

  “I am scared shitless with you in the truck, Denny. If the cops pull me over, I’ll be in hot water, too.”

  “You worry too much, you know that?” He slides his pack onto the floor. Stinky licks his face and tries to get on his lap.

  I pull back on Stinky’s harness until he sits. “So, what’s the plan? Where am I taking you?”

  “Home.”

  “Home? Home where?”

  “To the cottage, idiot.”

  “I can’t do that. I told you before. And you definitely can’t now.” I feel confident in this answer, at least.

  “Why not?”

  “The cops came by last night. I tried calling you a billion times to tell you. They were asking questions about you, and then they went through the entire house. Even the attic.”

  “That’s smart of them. The attic is exactly where I want to hide.” He’s talking casually, as though the decision had already been made. “I just need a couple of days to bide my time so I can think of what my next step will be.”

  “If you stay at the cottage, the only next step you’ll be taking is to jail, with me right behind you.” I can feel my face heating up.

  “Jade.” He gives me a patient look. “Let’s look at this logically for a minute. You said the cops did a full search of the place, right?”

  “So?”

  “So, theoretically, the cottage is the last place they’ll look. They’re not going to do daily searches, Jade. They don’t have the time or money for that.” He looks very satisfied with himself. “Plus, I dropped a clue for the cops in Went Van that I’m still in that area, so they’ll be busy.”

  “What do you mean, clue? What did you do?”

  “I had a buddy of mine stay at the house for the weekend. He’s going to invite a few people over. I told him, if anyone comes to the door looking for me, tell them that I just ran to the liquor store.”

  “Do you think they’ll buy that?”

  “I don’t know, Jade. I’ve obviously never been in this situation before.”

  I shake my head. Everything feels so surreal. I can’t believe that I’m driving down the road with Denny, my brother who is wanted by the cops for questioning about a murder. I feel like I’m watching things unfold from outside myself. I can’t help but wonder what my father would think.

  I realise an even bigger problem. I can’t believe it took me this long to remember. “Denny, you can’t stay. It’s Annie’s cottage too. She’ll never allow it, and I’m not going to try and convince her. We’ve had enough arguments about you.”

  “What if she doesn’t know I’m there?”

  I give him a look of confusion. “I think she’ll realise pretty quick.”

  “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. She’ll have no idea. Please, Jade. I have nowhere else to go.”

  I feel like screaming. I’ve always prided myself on being an honest person, and this clusterfuck of a situation has forced me to tell more lies than I have in my whole life. But I know that Denny is right—if he’s on this island while the cops are showing his picture around, he won’t last very long.

  Without realising what I’m doing, I find myself working out the details. Annie works every day right now. When she leaves in the morning, Denny could come down from the attic and spend the day with Stinky. Then, when Annie and I get home from work, he can go back up. We barely do much besides eat a fast dinner before bed anyway. For a couple of days, it might just work. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.

  When we pull up in the yard, Denny opens the door and Stinky leaps out on to the yard. We watch him bound around, smelling with enthusiasm. “Two days,” I say to Denny. “Two days, and then you’ll leave, no matter what. Deal?”

  He nods. “Deal.”

  We go inside and I make us a pot of tea. Denny sits at the table, his shoulders slouched and his face worn. He looks ten years older than he did before this whole mess started.

  “Denny, can I ask you a question?”

  “What?”

  “Do you have any idea what actually happened to Robbie? Do you really think he was murdered, or do you think that the cops are wrong? I mean, this is Gabriola Island, not New York City.”

  He pauses. “Do you want me to explain what I remember?”

  I tense up. I don’t want to hear it. But I do. So, I nod. “Skip over some of it,” I say, knowing he’ll understand what I mean. I sit across from him and cradle my cup in my hands.

  “Robbie and Annie were in the other room.” I can already feel my stomach muscles tighten. Denny notices my expression. “Well, anyway, I wanted to leave and Robbie didn’t. I called him out, we started arguing and he followed me onto the lawn. I was walking to the dock to go to my boat. Robbie wanted me to wait for him, but I wanted to leave.”

  This is sounding closer to what Annie told the cops. She wasn’t lying. The only difference is his perception of what was happening in the bedroom. “How stoned and drunk were you that night?”

  “Very, why?”

  “I’m just trying to imagine how you could get a proper grasp on the events when your brain was compromised.”

  “I know what I know, Jade.” He takes a sip of tea before continuing. “We were arguing on the lawn and Robbie was trying to get me to wait. I remember calling him a lot of names and telling him to come now or I was leaving. He told me that he didn’t care if I left, he’d get a ride home later. He wasn’t thinking. All of the ferries had already gone by then. I was his last option for a ride. We yelled back and forth for a while, he went back in the house, and I left in my boat.”

  “Leaving him with Annie.”

  “Jade—" />
  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Denny sighs. “That’s the last time I saw him.”

  “How do you know him anyway?”

  “He was a newcomer to my neighborhood in West Van. I didn’t hang out with him much, He always wanted to head downtown and party. I’d rather get drunk at home or go to friends’ places. Robbie acted sweet and innocent, but he could be a real bastard, too.” He pauses. “Not enough to get him murdered, though.”

  “If you don’t think he was murdered, what do you think happened to him?”

  “I think he was so whacked out that he stumbled down to the dock, thinking that I’d come back for him. He probably lost his balance and fell into the salt chuck. It happens every day.”

  “But how did he get my floater cushion?”

  “Your boat’s open. He probably just took it out of your boat to sit on. Beats sitting on the hard wood of the dock. Then, when he fell in the water, he tried to stay afloat by tying the pad around his waist. It’s what I’d do. He probably tried to swim against the current and then got too tired and drowned.”

  I stare at Denny. This was the first time Robbie’s death made sense.

  “If it wasn’t for the stupid anonymous call about the fight, the police would have no reason to suspect me. They’d think for two fucking seconds and figure out that it was an accident.

  “Who do you think called in on you?”

  “The same person who planted the wallet. Someone who hates me, that’s for sure.” He flicks the teacup hard—it tings. “And I never even saw him with a wallet. Him and me came straight over from West Van with no stopping. He had no reason to take his wallet out, and it couldn’t have just fallen out—he was wearing cargo shorts. The Velcro on those pockets is strong enough to be fucking watertight. I remember how loud it was whenever he ripped it open—it annoyed the hell out of me.”

  I stare into my tea. “The coroner has to be looking at the body. Maybe he’ll figure out that it was accidental.”