Hush

by Jay Lang

  Dickson writes down something I can’t make out on the paper.

  “Detective Dickson. You’re asking me a lot about Denny and I don’t know why. We aren’t close. I saw him once since that night, and it was brief. He lives in West Vancouver and I live here.”

  “I am just trying to get to the bottom of a murder investigation. A man in his twenties was last seen at your home, after which he went missing. Then he was found a couple bays down from where you live. You’re a smart girl, I think you can understand why I would be asking questions.”

  I seethe at the word girl. “Yes, I can understand. But I sure as hell didn’t have anything to do it. For God’s sake, I was the one that sat by his body until the police arrived. I’d have to be a pretty stupid murderer to do that.”

  Dickson smiles and nods. “That’s very true. I never asked you if you had anything to do with what happened to him.”

  I press my lips together and glare at him.

  “Okay, Jade. I have one last question. The last time Denny was at your house, did he leave anything behind?”

  I take my hands off the table and try to look natural when I stick them in the front of my hoodie, feeling if maybe the wallet is poking out. Thankfully, it isn’t. “No. Not that I know of.”

  Dickson stands up and offers his hand. I shake it, and he holds the door open for me. As I’m walking out, I pause and look at him. “Have you got any serious leads in the case yet?”

  He shrugs. “We’re still waiting on the toxicology report. I’m sure it will fit all the pieces together. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  The first thing I do when I get into the truck is grab my smokes and light one. I pull Denny’s wallet out of my pocket and toss it into the glove box. What a bloody nightmare that was. Though, as much as I don’t like being on the other end of Dickson’s interrogations, a part of me respects him. He’s not pompous or unreachable. Or maybe I’m just grateful he let me out of that damn room.

  Taking a long drag, I slowly exhale and then start the truck. I wonder if Annie has noticed the smell of smoke on my clothes lately. I wonder why she hasn’t mentioned it, or scolded me about it. I feel heavy when I realise the truth that my lung health has taken the back burner these past few months.

  When I get home, Annie is asleep on the couch. Stinky is lying on the floor beside her. He looks up when I walk in. I walk over to my wife and kneel down next to her. Slowly, I lean in and kiss her cheek. She stirs, and her eyes flutter open. She gives me a sincere smile. That smile I remember from before everything. “You’re home.”

  She sits up and asks me about the meeting I just had at the cop shop, and I give her a brief overview. When I’m done, she tells me to sit on the couch while she gets my dinner. The weight and stress of the interview dissipates when Annie places my food in front of me and she sits, stroking my back like a cat as I eat.

  When I’ve cleared my plate, I take my girl’s hand and lead her to the bedroom. We haven’t made love in days. I want to engulf her, to get lost in her, and for her to get lost in me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the next two days, work overtakes me as my lost days catch up with me. By the time I get home, I’m so tired that I head straight to bed after dinner.

  Annie has been getting off earlier due to the cooler weather and people not buying as many plants and flowers. By the time I get in, she’s been home long enough to let Stinky out, make dinner and make our lunches for the next day. It’s great. I wish she didn’t have to go to work at all. I wish she was home every day, waiting for me, and I wouldn’t have to share her with the rest of the world.

  Tonight, is an angry night. Branches from tall trees wallop the outside of the cottage. The lights flicker as the wind rages outside. We gather a handful of candles in case the power goes out and then head to bed. Stinky decides to take refuge between us, under the covers. I predict a restless sleep.

  Dreams come. The fog looks the same, but something’s different. I stand at the end of the dock and look out over the water. The blue boat that Robbie is usually in isn’t here. I stand with my bare toes poking over the edge of the dock as I look down into the dark, infinite water. Is he lurking down there, waiting to grab my legs and pull me to the depths again? I back up just in case.

  A strange breeze twists around me, making me unsteady on my feet. I try to turn by I can’t. The wind is holding me still. I hear a scraping sound coming from under the wharf. I’m able to move my head. I look down, between the slats of wood, but I see only water.

  The sound gets louder, and I feel the vibrations in my legs. My body starts to shake as whatever is beneath me rattles the dock. My heart is pounding so hard that I feel pain on the inside of my ribs.

  Then, with the same quickness it came, the wind and the shaking stops, releasing my body from its hold. Relieved and shaken, I turn to walk up the dock towards the house.

  As soon as my back is facing the end of the wharf, I hear my name, whispered.

  I spin around and look. There’s no one there.

  Then, I see it. On the water, I see a silver tip poke through the dense fog. Bit by bit, the fog relinquishes the rest of a small blue boat.

  My eyes are fixed on the boat as it follows the same route it has before, across the cove and up to the dock. When it gets close enough, I see Robbie lying on his side, his face pointing away from me. Just then, the wind picks up again and resumes its hold on me.

  A shiver runs over my shoulders and up the back of my neck. The middle of my bones turn cold while I gaze at Robbie’s still body. Then, I see his fingers move. Next, his feet start flicking back and forth. in an almost chain reaction, as the rest of his body begins to jerk and spasm. My body fills with terror.

  With his head still facing away, the body does a backwards crawl out of the boat and onto the wharf. I take a shallow breath as the body contorts in front of me. I close my eyes again. With my eyes still closed, the wind eases its grip on me. I’m scared to open my eyes but I’ll have to so I can run.

  Slowly, I lift my lids. Robbie’s face is only inches from mine.

  I gasp and jerk my head back. He covers his face and starts sobbing. The louder he gets, the more his sobs turn to laughter.

  ‘What do you want?’ I choke.

  With one motion, his hands separate. I scream as I stare into the eyes of my father.

  My eyes fly open and I spring out of bed. Sweating, shaking, and wiping tears from my face, I look back at the bed where Annie and the dog are still fast asleep.

  After walking around the house for a while, I wash my face and get a drink then return to bed to get a few more hours of sleep.

  Annie comes into the room as I get dressed for work. She tells me that the weather report on the radio says to expect high winds. Even though it’s only a twenty-five-minute boat ride from Gabriola to Nanaimo, when the wind is powerful, the sea rages and causes delays.

  Sure enough, when I reach the terminal, there’s a long line of vehicles waiting for the ferry.

  By the time I arrive at work, I’m fifteen minutes late. Tim and the boss man are sitting at the table having coffee when I walk in. I nod at them both as I walk past to put my bag away.

  “Windy on the salt chuck, eh?” my boss asks.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t have wanted to be in a skiff,” I reply.

  “Ah well, those old metal tubs are pretty sturdy beasts. Not much chance of one sinkin’.”

  As soon as our boss gives us our worksheets, he leaves the room. I sit down across from Tim and scan the page. Tim isn’t looking at his paper, instead, he’s looking out the window in a daze.

  “What’s up, Tim?” I ask, kicking his foot under the table.

  He snaps to and turns his focus to me. “Oh, nothing much. Just waking up.”

  He doesn’t look tired. Knowing Tim, he’s been up for hours. There’s something else niggling at him, I can tell.

  By the time we check off half of the day’s duties, it’s lunch time and Tim has barely said
two words. I figure he’s dealing with something personal. If he needs a friend to talk to, he’ll say something.

  At the lunch table, I pull out the salad that Annie made me and start to eat. Tim sits across from me, cradling his cup of coffee.

  “No lunch today?” I ask him.

  “I’m not much in the mood for eating.”

  “You should eat, man. You’re diabetic.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Okay, this is just getting weird. “Tim, is anything wrong? I have to ask because honestly, you’re acting a bit weird.”

  He shakes his head.

  I take a few more bites of my food before he blurts it out. “Okay. Screw it. I’m just going to tell you. It’s been eating me up inside and I can’t take it anymore.”

  I put down my fork. “What’s going on?”

  He lowers his head and directs his words to his coffee. “Do you remember when I told you about that detective coming by here and asking questions?”

  “Yeah, what about it?”

  “Well, it didn’t really go down exactly as I told you.”

  “Meaning?” I feel a prickling of dread on my skin.

  “The truth is, the detective didn’t really come here. I had dipped into the sauce after boss man left, and I decided to close shop an hour early. I was on my way home and had gotten about five miles up the road when I got pulled over. There were two cops, one was the detective. They asked me where I was coming from, so I told them where I worked. That’s when the detective said that they were on their way here, to talk to you.” He swallows. “Everything I told you about the questions he asked me and the answers I gave him was true, except for one thing.”

  Oh no. “Okay, spit it out.”

  “Well, as I said, I had been drinking, and I was scared of getting a DUI. I can’t lose my license. If I did, I couldn’t work and then I’d be screwed.” Tim, still talking to his coffee, takes a deep breath and continues. “Well, when they asked if you have any health problems that I knew of, I said no, and that you’re way healthier than me. One of the cops raised his eyebrows, and I got nervous. I was worried that he thought I meant because you don’t drink, so I clarified that it’s because of my diabetes. As soon as I said it, they both looked at each other. Then, the detective asked me if I had ever left my medicine at your place. I said no, but then I remembered that you carried my case for me when I asked you to hang onto it, back in Hank’s truck, and I told them. They let me go a few minutes later.” He finally breaks eye contact with his coffee and looks at me. “That’s the truth about what happened.”

  I stare at him. All I feel is confusion. That is way low on the list of what I’d expected him to tell me. “It’s some weird ass questions they asked, Tim, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “But I lied to you about being pulled over on the road, and the questions I answered. I guess I just didn’t want you to know that I closed up shop early because I was drunk, and that I was driving. I’m not proud of myself.”

  I can’t believe Tim was so troubled over such a silly lie. He’s been a loyal friend over the years. “Don’t beat yourself up, bud. I get it, okay?”

  Tim nods, though his eyes are still troubled.

  As we work the second half of the day, I flash back to the questions the detective asked Tim. Why the hell is Dickson so interested in my health? Had Denny told them that I was sick so he and Robbie came over to help me out? I don’t know. I’m not a detective. I find the whole process dizzying.

  I crack jokes and act like an idiot for the rest of the day. Finally, Tim snaps out of his funk and starts acting like his old self again.

  As soon as I’m on the ferry, I take out my phone to give Annie a call, and I see that I’ve missed one, just a minute ago.

  Denny had called.

  My fingers fumble with the screen, and it takes me a couple of tries before I hit the right button. This time, it rings.

  The line connects. “Hello?”

  “Denny. Oh my God. Where have you been?”

  “I called my buddy in West Van to get my boat and then to come and get me.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I’ve been too afraid to use my phone. The only reason I’m calling now is because I think I left my wallet in the attic.”

  “You did. I found it.” I’d taken it from my glove box at the first opportunity and replaced it in the attic. “I put it right on the inside of the hatch. I didn’t want Annie finding it.”

  “Great.”

  “What are you going to do? Did you reach your lawyer?”

  “Yes, finally. I’m going in tomorrow and he’s going to come with me to the police station in West Van.”

  “That’s a relief. I’ve been scared that something happened to you.”

  “I’m okay. I’m taking my meds every day and my thinking is a lot clearer. Us Banks children are sure messed up, huh?”

  I’m nowhere near the level of screwed up that Denny is, but I agree with him so that he doesn’t feel like a freak. “So, where are you now?”

  “I’m standing at the cottage door.”

  I sit up straight and press the phone tight against my ear. “Tell me you’re joking. Denny, you can’t be at the house—Annie will be home any minute, if she’s not there already. Please don’t go in.”

  “She’s not here. I looked around back first and I don’t see her car. I just drove all the way here from West Van in my boat. I promise that I’ll be really quick, Jade. I have no choice. I need my wallet.”

  I have no choice. I know him—if I refuse to help, he’ll just stand there, and Annie will definitely see him. “Sonofabitch, Denny. Hurry the hell up, then. Get in and out in five seconds.”

  “No problem. Do you still keep the key inside the planter?”

  “Yes. It’s there.”

  I look at the time on the dash. Annie will be there any second. My stomach clenches.

  “Your dog likes me. I think he wants to come home with me.” Denny laughs, and I can hear Stinky give a happy bark.

  “Take the wallet, Denny, not the dog.” I grab my cigarettes and light one.

  “Okay, I’m in the pantry.”

  I hear rustling through the phone.

  “Hey, Dad’s gun is up here.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was going to get rid of it.”

  “No way! I’ll take it home with me. I love this old relic.”

  I thunk my head on the steering wheel. Just what I need—Annie coming home to Denny holding a shotgun. “Just get the hell out of there, okay?”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down. I’m just putting the gun by the front door and then I’ll climb up the shelf and get my wallet.”

  I take a long drag. I hear Denny’s footsteps as he walks from the pantry to the front door and then back again.

  “I’m in the hatch, but I don’t see my…wait, there it is. I got it!”

  “Good, now go before Annie gets home.”

  The boat is docking and the loudspeaker comes on, telling everyone to get back in their vehicles, making it hard for me to hear Denny.

  “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t have a… Oh, shit.”

  “What? Denny? What’s going on?”

  His voice has dropped to a whisper. “Annie just got home. I’m in the pantry.” He breathes heavily into the receiver. “Shit. What should I say?”

  I’m so stressed that I nearly eat my cigarette. I grind it in the ashtray before I burn myself. “I really don’t think you can say anything that will make her okay with you being there.”

  “I’ll just wait in here until she goes into the bedroom, then I will deke out.”

  I drive off the ferry and up the road. “I told you not to go in the house, but you wouldn’t listen. You never do.”

  “Shh, or she’ll hear…”

  “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  My breath catches in my throat as I hear Annie’s voice. It’s low—angry, but calm.

  There’s more rustling.
I imagine Denny lowering the phone. “Put the gun down, girl.” I hear him say.

  “What’s going on?” I say, loudly. I slam on the breaks and stop in the middle of the road, pressing the phone tighter to my ear.

  “Stay right there, Denny. Don’t even think about moving or I’ll blow your head off.”

  I hear the phone hit the floor. Thankfully, it doesn’t hang up.

  Denny tells Annie that he’s leaving right away and that the only reason he was there is because he had to get something from the attic.

  “Why do you keep showing up in our lives?” Annie says. “The last thing your sister needs is to deal with the fucking drama that always follows you.”

  “Are you delusional, Annie? If it wasn’t for your loose legs, none of us would be in this mess.”

  “That’s a lie.” She’s yelling now. “You know damn well that you’re the one that brought Raj here. It’s your fault, not mine.”

  “So, I made you have sex with him? I don’t remember that part.”

  “Who brought the drugs here, Denny? You and Raj did. If I wasn’t so high, I never would’ve slept with him.”

  Raj? My mind reels. Raj was her gay Vancouver friend. Then, Tim’s voice floats through my brain. Robbie Aaron James.

  I slam on the breaks and stop the truck in the middle of the road. A car beeps then swerves around me.

  “Well, I took the same stuff you did and it didn’t make me sleep with him.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “And you weren’t high those other times, remember? You two were screwing each other ever since I introduced you in Vancouver.”

  Annie lets out a scream of frustration. I’ve never heard that sound come from her before. “The only reason I did that was because I was going through hell with Jade.”

  My breath leaves my lungs.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Denny says, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Perfect Annie needs a perfect reason to cheat. I remember that well.”

  “She was suffocating me. Always suspicious and jealous, oh my God, always sulking and worrying whenever I was away from her.” She lets out a dry, angry sob. “But I still regret it. Every minute with Raj. If I could take it back, I would. You know that.”