Footsteps in the Dark

by Josh Lanyon

  The construction felt solid beneath my feet. Walking along the wide boards to the side nearest the neighbor’s balcony was effortless. If I wanted to jump, the neighbor’s balcony was close enough and uncluttered, so landing would be no problem.

  I could do it.

  I could definitely do it.

  I wasn’t planning to do it because I didn’t know who lived there, and also, I’m not an idiot.

  I was in that special place in my head where everything else disappears. So deeply focused, I felt the board beneath my feet and the one I needed to jump to simultaneously—as if I was simply moving between dimensions—and it would have been so easy.

  “Jesus. Get the fuck off there!” Rick’s authoritarian voice shredded my composure. Pepper barked like a mad thing, startling me double. I lost my balance and sprang, helplessly, for the other balcony’s railing. To my horror, I missed. Shit, shit, shit.

  Forced to scrabble in midair, I made a grab for the iron balusters. I caught hold of one out of sheer desperation. Relief brought icy sweat, a racing heart, and instant, bitter sobriety. For several long seconds, I simply hung there, forearms burning like fire, hands throbbing from the impact. Ow.

  I nearly jerked my arms out of their sockets from trying to hold my weight, and came to the inescapable conclusion I was not strong enough to hold on for long.

  Dangling four stories off the ground, I held on while waiting for my heart to restart. God, I was gonna bruise. Were people watching? I rested my forehead against my upper arm and tried to disappear while Rick continued shouting curses at my stupid, stupid ass.

  “Hang on, sit tight, I’m getting help.”

  I was too busy getting purchase with my feet and climbing into my neighbor’s balcony to answer with more than an angry grunt.

  He waited until I was safe to move. “Oh my God, you dumb fuck! Wait there.”

  Where did he think I’d go? I’d managed to survive, barely. I wasn’t going to jump back the way I’d come.

  He opened the slider and shouted into Caleb’s place, “Ramone, go next door and let Lonnie in. He’s on your balcony.”

  That got a chorus of disbelieving voices.

  I plopped down with my back to the wall, burning with shame and resentment while I relived the experience over and over.

  I’d been a little loopy before, but adrenaline had jolted me into a state of high anxiety. I couldn’t catch my breath at all. I didn’t know how long I had before the crash came, but when it did, I wanted to be in my place, alone.

  Actually, I wanted to be alone right then, but several people—and dogs—spilled onto the balcony with me. Before I could begin to worry we’d have one of those disasters where a whole balcony falls off the side of a building, Rick muscled them back through the slider.

  Stephani pushed Pepper through to me. She curled into a big ball in my lap as if she sensed I’d nearly had a fatal tête-à-tête with gravity. She covered my face with licks I didn’t deserve. My God. What if she’d tried to follow and fallen?

  I got rid of her cone for the moment, holding her soft furry body close to my chest for comfort until my heart rate slowed. Her ears felt like velvet beneath my fingertips as she snuggled in, offering warmth and softness and more little dog kisses until I felt grounded and whole. Safe again.

  No doubt about it, I’d made a name for myself with the neighbors. And shoot. I’d proven I could have murdered Dead Jeff without anyone seeing me enter or leave his apartment.

  Rick studied me like a new species of parasite—probably trying to decide whether to call the guys with backward jackets or sic the cops on me for being a nuisance.

  I spoke first. “Before you say anything—”

  “Don’t talk yet,” he snapped.

  “All right.”

  “Don’t. Talk. Yet.” Those fierce brown eyes burned holes in my forehead. “I need a minute. Is that okay with you?”

  “Sure.” I looked over his shoulder while I waited for him to do whatever. He looked as shaken as I felt.

  I wanted to explain that I would have been perfectly fine, if not for his silent footsteps and bossy shouting. Maybe I shouldn’t stand on railings, but maybe he shouldn’t sneak up on people.

  “I take it you learned what you wanted to learn?” His question surprised me.

  “I didn’t want to learn anything.” I shot him an unhappy glare. “Anyone could jump that.”

  “You barely survived.”

  “Because you startled me.” I drew in a deep breath. “I wasn’t planning to jump. I fell when you came up behind me and yelled. After that I had to figure things out, midair, thank you very much.”

  “That’s why normal people don’t stand on railings four stories up.”

  What did I say to that, I was once a teenage tightrope titan? I didn’t have to explain myself. “Maybe I’m not a normal person?”

  “You think?”

  Still, he stared at me. Far from making me uncomfortable, his attention made me want things. He smelled so fucking good. A mix of bourbon and bacon cheese straws and pure male sweat. The way he looked at me, like when we first met and he saw something he wanted… He glanced away.

  “Don’t.” My heart fell a little, as if his hungry expression was all that was bracing it.

  He huffed impatiently. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t judge me by what just happened.”

  “I don’t even know what that”—he pointed toward Caleb’s balcony—“was. What did you hope to prove?”

  “Prove? Nothing. Only I saw how close together the balconies were, and realized—” Uh-oh. He’d apparently come to the same conclusion. His narrowed eyes and harsh breathing weren’t due to relief or anything sexier. He was pissed as hell.

  “You realized your little stunt implicates you further? Your balcony is the one next to Jeff’s.”

  I swallowed. “So’s yours.”

  His face darkened with anger. “Yes it is, brainiac. And how angry do you think I’d be right now if I were the killer? If I can jump one balcony, then I can jump two.”

  “So?” I jutted my chin. “Same goes for you.”

  Anxiety took desire’s place, for the moment. Nobody actually hypothesizes about being a killer, right? Not if they actually did it. Chilled, sweaty, and unsettled, I lifted Pepper off me and stood. She shoved into my leg and stayed there, no leash required.

  “I’ve gotta go.” I needed to go home and regroup. Two times in as many months, I almost died.

  I gathered up Pepper’s cone collar and leash, and together we pushed through the crowd. This time, I left by the apartment’s front door like a regular guy.

  Chapter Seven

  After Caleb’s party, I was the talk of the Fillmore Arms. It’s not every day I provide catering and a show. My neighbors were probably taking bets on whether I was the killer or not. All but Rick, whom I didn’t see much of for the next few days, unless I counted meeting him out walking his dog.

  Sometimes, we’d walk together stiffly, barely exchanging a few words. Pepper and Chancho became tentative friends, but after my “stunt,” as Rick called falling off the balcony, I could not say the same about him and me.

  I guess what I wanted was the easy rapport we had when he invited me for lunch. Instead, he’d let things cool off considerably. It seemed I had to earn back his trust, which I had no clue how to do.

  I didn’t think he killed Jeff. Surely, he didn’t believe I did. I wondered if I had to tackle the subject head-on, but I never found an easy opportunity, so the words remained unsaid.

  Meanwhile, Pepper and I developed a routine. Every morning I grabbed a travel mug of coffee for our walk, and when we came back inside, we both ate a healthy breakfast.

  Since Pepper’s caloric needs were still on the puppy side of the equation, I fed her homemade chicken along with brown rice and vegetable patties, with a perfectly poached egg on top.

  Probably, her routine with Jeff was similar and she was training me, and not the other way
around. I doubted he was ever as consumed by perfecting a dog’s meal plan as I obviously was.

  Gossip at the party didn’t reassure me he’d been a morning person either, but he must have taken her out early enough to keep her from doing her business on his carpet. Maybe he’d employed a dog walker?

  From what I’d learned, Dead Jeff wasn’t the most enthusiastic guy when it came to his dog. In fact, I wondered why he even had one.

  I knew my emotional limitations, but he probably didn’t.

  Truth, the more I learned about Jeff, the less I liked him. I imagined their morning routine—he probably dragged her out on the leash, shouted at her to poop, and threw a cupful of generic kibble into a plain metal bowl because he wanted to go back to bed.

  Even I could see she deserved better than a man like that.

  After we ate our breakfast, she licked her eggy chops and joined me on the sofa.

  If I was looking for a Pepper kind of dog—the cuddly, full of personality type—she would be my first choice.

  But I didn’t have any experience training dogs. I expected to leave that sort of thing to someone who had time for it. And I assumed they’d have to start on day one with a puppy, to do it right.

  Her ears perked up, and a low growl rumbled in her throat. A knock at the door caused her to lose her mind. She leaped from the couch and charged it, barking like all the demons of hell were on the other side.

  Except it was Rick standing there.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” My breath gave a little hitch. He wore a dark charcoal suit, a white shirt, and a gray tie with polka dots. Had he dressed that way for work? “You look nice.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced down, seemed to hesitate. “So. The techs are done with Jeff’s apartment. Dave’s supposed to box up his things. The owners are okay with me going in and looking for Pepper’s papers and her vaccination record. I’ve got the key, so I thought I’d take a minute to look before work. You want to help?”

  I would never forget the gory scene I’d found in Jeff’s apartment last time. In the days that followed, the shock had worn off. Still, I hesitated before answering.

  “I guess I could.”

  He laid his big hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It might be hard after finding him. And it’s been closed up for nearly a week. The smell—”

  “It’s not that.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to see Jeff’s place again, but it wasn’t the smell or the mess; it was my recent acquaintance with my own mortality that bugged me.

  “It’s okay, Lonnie,” Rick said gently. “I’ll find what you need.”

  “I’ll go.” I wasn’t Jeff. Jeff wasn’t me. And Pepper needed her vaccine record because we had an appointment at the Bark Right Inn to see if they’d let her stay with the day-care dogs when I went back to work. “Suppose she had a dog bed or anything?”

  “If she did, you don’t want it.” He backed away so I could join him in the hall. “You’ll never be able to forget where it came from.”

  “You’re probably right.” I turned to Pepper. “Sit.”

  She knew “sit,” but she thought it was only for feeding time. Little did she know I’d use it to keep her from darting through the door after me.

  “Stay. I’ll be back soon.” Her wide brown eyes promised retribution when I closed the door between us.

  “You guys are doing great.” Rick patted my back. “I never imagined you’d be so good with her.”

  I frowned. “Why not?”

  “You know.” He unlocked Jeff’s door. “You seem like one of those guys who expects a dog to be something it isn’t.”

  “Me? Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Dogs are animals. You seem like you want a polite roommate who won’t get in your hair.”

  “Is it crazy to want a dog to behave? I’m going to hire a trainer for mine, and I won’t bring him home until he’s socialized. I’m going to start as I mean to go on.”

  “Right.” He aimed a wry glance my way. “Good luck with that.”

  We stepped into Jeff’s place, and all happy thoughts fled. Musty air reeked of dirty dishes and dog piss. A thick metallic sweetness hung in the air. The apartment gave off an awful vibe, and I was sure Rick and I were on the same page. Get in, get whatever, and get out.

  He moved across the cluttered space quickly. “You look out here, I’ll take the bedroom. They said we could have anything dog-related.”

  “Okay.” I saw where Jeff kept Pepper’s things, and I was right. Jeff fed Pepper some vile, off-brand kibble, the cheap bastard.

  There were two leads, one leather and one retractable. I took one of the plastic grocery bags Jeff kept under the sink and gathered the things I thought we could use.

  There were soft toys, but I didn’t want them. Nor did I want her bedding or blankets. Just being there made me feel physically ill. I didn’t want any reminders of Jeff or the night I found him. I made a mental note of what Pepper apparently liked and needed so I could take her to PetSmart and get her those things, brand new.

  I did take a big red Frisbee and a Kong ball with holes for treats that looked sturdy and well loved. Maybe if she had them, she’d stop trying to chew my furniture.

  Or wait… I’d be sure to give them to whoever adopted her.

  Next, I looked for her vaccination records.

  It felt all wrong shuffling through Jeff’s drawers and going through his papers, but none of the people we’d asked knew which vet Jeff had used. I felt certain the answer would be in the kitchen, in a junk drawer where I found a bunch of bills shoved haphazardly along with scissors and tape and an ashtray full of used vape cartridges.

  I thought going through Jeff’s stack of unpaid bills for one from the vet might yield results. Then Rick returned.

  “Nothing in there.” He washed his hands and wiped them on a paper towel. “What’d you find?”

  “Bills, some of which are way overdue. His filing system leaves me speechless.” I shoved the pile I had toward him before pulling the drawer farther out to get the rest. “There’s lots more where those came from.”

  The drawer caught on something. I leaned over and glanced inside to see what was blocking it. Rick waited while I shoved the drawer in and tried again.

  No luck. I couldn’t tell what was hanging it up.

  “Is it stuck?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” I checked the cabinet beneath it and saw an envelope under the drawer. “There’s something here. Looks like it’s taped there.”

  “Bullshit. Crime-scene techs wouldn’t miss something like that.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. There’s an envelope”—I squatted and gave it a tug—“underneath the drawer.”

  “Wait. Don’t—”

  “Here.” I handed the thing over to Rick as soon as I retrieved it. I was more interested in finding something that would help me convince the Bark Right Inn to accept Pepper into this year’s obedience academy and day care.

  After shuffling through another half stack, I found it.

  “Bingo.” I had a vet bill with a card stuffed inside. Rick was so quiet, I looked up. He’d opened the envelope I’d given him.

  “Shit.” His angry tone warned me it was nothing good.

  “What?”

  “Photographs.” He didn’t show me the contents, but from the look on his face, it was bad.

  “Of what?”

  “At least two of these women are our neighbors.” He paled as he thumbed through them.

  “No wonder they hated him. You suppose he’s been holding these over their heads somehow?”

  “Probably. Jesus. This changes things.”

  “What?”

  “They’re unconscious.” He swallowed like he was going to be sick and closed the envelope. “They’re all unconscious. I need to drop this off with the detectives working Jeff’s case. You have what you need?”

  “Yeah.” I took the bag of dog toys and the vet bill with me. He
slipped the new evidence into his jacket pocket.

  When we went back to my place, he seemed preoccupied. I was too.

  I had a sinking feeling the fact that I found those pictures would blow back on me somehow. Rick didn’t meet my gaze. I guessed it occurred to him too.

  “You know I didn’t have anything to do with those pictures, right?”

  “What? Oh. How could you?”

  “I don’t know. But you seem—”

  “It’s just really uncomfortable for me. I know some of these women. They’re my friends.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. I have to go.” I offered him coffee, but he declined. “No, thank you. I have work.”

  I couldn’t help asking, “You work private security in a suit and tie?”

  “Depends on where the client is going.”

  “So you’re like…a bodyguard?”

  He flushed. “I get a bodyguard detail occasionally. Sometimes I’m hired to assess someone’s home or business security setup. Or I handle a client’s digital security. Whatever they need, I’m there.”

  “For celebrities?”

  He coughed. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my clients.”

  “So that’s a yes. How awesome.” I wanted private security, if it looked like Rick. “Where are you going today?”

  He sent me a pointed look. “I’m not at liberty to—”

  “You don’t have to tell me who your client is. Just tell me where you’ll wear the suit?”

  His ran his fingers lightly over the lapels, and I wanted to do the same. “You like?”

  “Mm-hmm. Wait.” I straightened his tie needlessly and gave it a pat. “There.”

  He relented, a little. “I’m going to be in court today. That’s all I can say.”

  “Should I look for you on the five o’clock news?” I asked for a lark, but his face fell, and I knew a high-profile client was involved. “Ooh. Anyone I might find interesting?”