Countdown: Ethan

by Boniface, Allie

  Ethan’s bladder threatened to let loose. Oh, hell no. This happened in movies, in bad mystery novels, in hovels on the dark side of the city. Not here. Not to someone who spent most of his days holed up in a cubicle, checking stats and doing phone interviews and avoiding conversation as much as possible.

  He raised both hands to the sky in surrender. Right now, it seemed like the smart thing to do. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Sean spun Ethan around and stared him down. “Oh, yeah, you are. You’re going about a quarter-mile that way.” He jabbed the gun in the direction of the street. “Keep your mouth shut.” He shoved Ethan ahead of him and repositioned the gun so that it pressed against Ethan’s spine, just above his belt.

  Ethan began to walk. “Dakota’ll be back any minute. She’s probably standing out there right now with the cops. You might not—”

  “Shut up,” Sean growled close to his ear.

  Ethan did. He hoped that by the time they reached the street, three cruisers would be waiting, their lights spinning circles against the night sky. But when they stepped onto the sidewalk, all of Beale Street was empty. Shit. Double shit. Now what?

  “This way.” Sean yanked at his arm and directed him up the street, away from Piano Alley. They turned at the first intersection. He stopped, tucked the gun back inside his waistband and pointed. “You’re gonna drive me to the airport.”

  “What?”

  “Cops’ll be looking for me. Probably be tracing my rental car inside the hour. So I don’t need to be driving in circles in a goddamned city I don‘t know.” He shoved his finger into Ethan’s chest. “You’re gonna drive me. In your car. You’re taking home a friend who had too much to drink and passed out. Don’t need to make any other explanations than that, if you get stopped.”

  Ethan stared. He could be home in bed right now. He could have hung out with Mike or stayed up watching TV. He could have hit the sheets early and woken up tomorrow with nothing but a fresh day to worry about. Instead, here he stood in the middle of Memphis at dawn, facing down a stranger who was one trigger pull away from ending his life.

  “Okay.” What choice did he have? He yanked at his shirt collar and got a whiff of his own perspiration, laced with aftershave and cigarette smoke. Maybe if he did what Sean wanted, he’d be calling a cab from the airport while the guy became someone else’s problem. Or maybe he’d be calling Dakota and asking her to stay in town a little longer. Maybe he’d promise to show her the other side of Memphis, the quieter side, the boring side that ended with the two of them having lunch somewhere.

  He could only hope.

  5:00 a.m.

  Dakota stared at her hands, pressed against each other and turning white with each turn of the police car. Makeup smeared, shoulder banged up, head bobbing with exhaustion...she wondered if she looked as ragged as she felt.

  The cop had found someone to unlock Piano Alley, a night manager who opened the door and found Dakota’s purse at their late-night request. The minute they turned away, though, she heard the locks twisting again, the footsteps hurrying into the back. She’d checked her phone, certain Sarah must have called or texted, but the blank screen reminded her that she’d forgotten to charge it.

  Dead. How fitting.

  What now? What could she do? She wasn’t even sure she remembered Sarah’s address, so she’d agreed to let the cop drive her to the police station. At least from there, she could use a phone or charge her own. The buildings slid by, and she tried to recall more details from the alley, so when the time came, she could fill in every last bit of information about Sean and what he’d done. Of course, he had nothing to lose. That was what frightened her most. After all the crimes he’d committed and everything the authorities knew about him, he was facing charges in more than one state. So why not go out in a blaze of defiance? He wouldn’t stop at hurting one more person. That, she was sure of. And that was what terrified her.

  Finally they pulled up in front of the South Main Memphis Police Station. Dakota dragged herself from the car, purse tucked under one arm.

  “We’ll have you fill out a report,” the cop said as they walked inside. “You can use the phone inside to call your friend.”

  “Thanks.”

  Inside, she left Dakota in the lobby by an empty row of chairs. “I’ll be right back.” She pointed across the room. “Restroom’s over there if you need it. Water in the corner. Got a charger for your phone?”

  Dakota nodded and plugged it into the closest outlet. Her knees gave out, and she sank into the closest chair.

  “I’ll be right back,” the cop said and disappeared through a door.

  Guess I learned my lesson, trying to leave Sean and Little Lakeside. She should have known better. Problems didn’t stay behind you; they went running on alongside, just out of view. They hid behind corners. They snuck along one step at a time and then sprung out to surprise you. They clawed at the walls you tried to put up, at the friendships you tried to build. They stayed inside your soul until you looked in and faced them, or until you finally tore them out and buried them with your bare hands.

  “Dakota?”

  She looked up. “Oh, my God. Sarah?” She tried to stand and found her legs still wouldn’t hold her. “What are you doing here? I thought you were taking Gunnar to the hospital.”

  Sarah sat next to Dakota and grabbed her in a tight hug. “We were worried about you. I turned around and you were gone. I couldn’t find you anywhere, and I tried to call and text but you didn’t answer. I got really worried.”

  “My phone died.”

  “Gunnar said we should come here and see if anyone had heard from you. We filed a report about the guy who beat him up, and then Gunnar mentioned Sean and that he was here in Memphis, and then a detective wanted to talk to him about the video, so ...” she stopped, out of breath.

  Dakota began to cry. They hadn’t left her after all. Sarah and Gunnar had been one step ahead, looking out for her when she felt most alone.

  Sarah touched the scrape on the back of Dakota’s shoulder. “What happened to you?”

  Dakota winced.

  At that moment, the cop reappeared behind the desk. “Miss James? You can come with me now. Let’s fill out that assault report.”

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. A second later, her eyes narrowed with hate. “It was Sean, wasn’t it? Did he come back? Did he hurt you?”

  The nice thing about best friends, Dakota thought as she walked through the door with Sarah’s arm wrapped around her waist, was that even on the occasions when they didn’t guess your pain right away, they carried it with you all the same and lightened the world when you felt you couldn’t take another step.

  “HOW WOULD—” ETHAN BEGAN, his fingers clenched around the steering wheel.

  “Shut up.”

  —the cops know you rented a car unless you were stupid enough to use your own name? And won’t they know enough to stake out the airport once Dakota tells them about you? For a guy who claimed to be a police chief, Sean sure seemed a little unscrewed. Check that, Ethan thought. More than a little unscrewed. Like the whole damn jar had opened up, and the contents rolled away when he wasn’t looking. But he kept his mouth shut and followed Sean’s instructions, driving through deserted streets toward the interstate.

  “How much farther?” Sean asked for the second time in under a minute.

  “Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen.” Ethan drove at what he hoped was the right speed, about five miles over the limit. While every bone in his body wanted to either kick it into high gear or drop down to about ten just to draw a cop’s attention, he didn’t dare risk it.

  The gun still lay in Sean’s lap, his right hand loosely over the grip. Ethan pressed down on the accelerator. In his left pocket, his cell phone jabbed him in the thigh, and he reached over with one hand to remove it.

  Idea.

  With another quick glance at Sean, who remained fixated on the road ahead, Ethan eased the phone out and left it lying in the palm of
his hand. He turned onto the entrance ramp for Interstate 240, and his right hand slipped a little on the wheel.

  “Jesus, keep it on the road, will ya?” Sean picked up the gun and eyed the barrel. “She’s nothing but trouble,” he said after a minute.

  “Who?” Ethan rubbed his thumb over the screen. Would this work? Could he possibly do this without Sean catching him?

  “Dakota.” Sean spit out the word. “Jesus, what a mess. Thought she was an easy lay. Thought she’d hand over that file without getting nosy about what was on it.”

  What the hell is he talking about?

  “...thought she was someone who’d stand up for her goddamned man, not turn around and kick him in the balls.”

  Ethan began to slide his thumb across the screen. He wasn’t great at texting without looking, not like the millennials in his office who could do it in their sleep. And to be honest, he didn’t have a lot of people to text in the first place. If he sent two or three texts a day, it was a lot. Shit. He didn’t dare look down. Instead he hoped that whatever warped message Mike ended up getting, he would understand and fill in the blanks. That’s what friends did, right? Piece together the missing pieces, sense trouble, know what you needed and when you needed it.

  “Guess women are hard to read,” Ethan said in response. He could have told Sean from the moment he met Dakota that she wasn’t any of that. Not easy, not stupid, not a pushover. Maybe she didn’t even know it herself, but she had more fire in all five feet of her than most women Ethan had met in his lifetime.

  And that, he realized with surprise, was exactly why he sat here next to a crazy man as dawn approached. That was why he’d stepped into the alley in the first place. She made me feel alive. Made me feel hope. For the first time in way too long. And that made anything else he had to do, any ridiculous hoops he had to jump through, worth it. He sent the text and murmured a quick plea to the big guy upstairs.

  ALONE IN THE BATHROOM at the police station, Dakota splashed some cold water on her face. Her bottom lip had turned puffy from where Sean had hit her. He must have gotten her right eye too, because a bruise was forming just below it. She turned around and craned her neck to see the torn flesh along her back. That hurt the most, the open scrapes along the wing of her shoulder blade where he’d shoved her against the bricks. The wound oozed, and she reached back with a wet paper towel to wipe away blood.

  “Ow.” She supposed she’d have to have someone clean it up and bandage it once they got to the hospital. Maybe give her some good painkillers while they were at it. None of that mattered now, though. She gingerly pulled her hair to the other side of her neck. Blood or bruises, both paled next to her worry over Ethan.

  The window filtered early morning sunlight. Beautiful weather, great music, culture, and history surrounded her, yet right now she couldn’t have cared if she were in Memphis or on the moon. All she wanted was to know what had happened to him. All she wanted was to see him again, to start the night over.

  Too bad you rarely got what you wished for.

  Over an hour had passed since she’d stood on Beale Street and watched him face down Sean. Yet according to the guy at the desk outside, not a single call had come in reporting a fight or an injured thirty-year old or a madman waving a gun in the middle of the city. No leads. No news, good or bad. And that left Dakota yearning for a single person in a city of half a million.

  She met Sarah in the waiting room. “You ready to go to the hospital?”

  Sarah nodded. “Just waiting on Gunnar.”

  “How is he?”

  “All right. Embarrassed, more than anything, I think, that he ended up in the middle of a street fight. He didn’t say that, but I know. I can tell.” She wound her hair into a lopsided ponytail. “He doesn’t want to go to the hospital. Says it isn’t that bad. Says he can stitch it up himself.”

  Dakota wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Sarah looped her arm around Dakota’s neck. “Don’t leave Memphis so soon. Stay longer. Change your flight.”

  “I can’t.”

  But Sarah continued as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Sure you can. I’ll help pay for another ticket, if you want. I’ll even get on the phone with your boss and tell him you can’t leave. That I need you here for moral support. But don’t go back right away. I miss you.” She leaned her forehead against Dakota’s the way she used to when they were in elementary school, sharing secrets on the playground. “And this isn’t what Memphis is like. Really. You just had a lousy night.”

  “Lousy might be a bit of an understatement. Just saying.” Although the hours she’d spent with Ethan hadn’t been lousy at all. In fact, quite the opposite.

  “Stay for the week. We’ll have fun—I’ll show you all the best spots in the city. And no more fights or police escorts or hospital visits, I promise.” Her eyes widened with a new thought. “You could even stay for good. Move down here.”

  “Sarah, I can’t.” Crazy thoughts, as always. Her best friend never stopped.

  “Why not? I have an extra bedroom. You could find a job and move in with me. You could actually go back to school. Think about it. The people here are great. Much friendlier than up north. Look at Gunnar.”

  Dakota smiled. “Yeah, I’ve been looking at him. All night. Not bad on the eyes. And he’s in love with you, you know.”

  “In love? He is not.” But her jaw twitched, and she looked at the wall behind Dakota.

  “Maybe not love. But serious like and lust. How do you feel about him?”

  Sarah laced her fingers behind her head and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before, that’s for sure. I mean, Gunnar’s my friend. We talk. We hang out. But it’s not like we’re doing the stupid dance of trying to get each other into bed.” She stopped for a moment. “But then sometimes I look at him, like tonight, and I think, here’s this amazing guy who spends all his time with me, who stands up for me and protects me and is kind to my friends. I see how other women look at him. Sometimes I want to tell them not to worry, that we’re just friends.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “We are. But okay, yeah, it’s more than that. He makes me laugh, and makes me think, and lets me be whoever I am. And he’s hot as hell. And smart and makes a hell of a good living.” She held up one hand. “Stop trying to change the subject. This conversation is not supposed to be about me. Think about staying in Memphis. It’s time you left Little Lakeside.”

  “That’s an awfully big jump to make.”

  “So? You’re a big girl. Plus if you’re not living up there, you’ll never run into Sean again.”

  “Unless he stays down here to make my life a living hell.”

  “He won’t. The cops’ll find him. That one detective said they’ve already got a warrant out for him up in New Hampshire. He’s not stupid. He’s probably left the city by now. Or the state.”

  But what about Ethan?

  Sarah read her mind, like always. “Besides, don’t you want to try and find Ethan? You can’t just leave without trying.”

  Dakota wrapped a loose curl around one finger. “I don’t know. Maybe it was just a one-night thing, you know? I mean, I’m not supposed to go halfway across the country and fall for some guy I met in a bar. That’s not how things work. And that’s not why I came here.”

  “Oh, please. You can’t plan things like that. You can’t say, ‘Oh, not tonight, it’s a Monday and I never talk to guys on Mondays.’ Or ‘Sorry, I know I’m on vacation in Hawaii but I promised myself I wouldn’t sleep with a guy in Hawaii, only Tahiti.”

  “Stop being ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think I’m the one being ridiculous.”

  Dakota shrugged. “Listen, maybe Sean took off and Ethan cleared out of there and went home. Maybe he’s sleeping right now, trying to forget everything that happened. Or maybe he’s staring at a picture of his dead wife and apologizing for kissing someone else.”

  “Stop it.” Sarah lai
d a hand on Dakota’s arm. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. You could have set the place on fire. If he’s home sleeping right now instead of looking for you, it’s only because it’s almost six in the morning and just about everyone else in Memphis is sleeping right now too. Or should be.”

  “But maybe it was just a fling.”

  “Stop with all the maybes. Is that really what you think?”

  “I don’t know. I guess not. But I just met him.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Sarah answered. “Who cares if it happens in a bar? People meet in a thousand different ways. The important thing is that they walk into each other’s lives. They change each other’s lives.” She leveled her gaze on Dakota. “There’s no way you’re going back home and just forgetting about him.”

  Dakota stood as Gunnar emerged from behind a closed door. “I don’t have a choice. He’s gone and I have no idea where to find him. And I’m only in town for another day, so that pretty much rules out running into him on the street or in some random club.”

  “You don’t know his last name?”

  “He never told me.” She furrowed her brow, trying to grasp at any detail she might have missed, a comment she might have forgotten.

  “Do you know where he lives? Here in the city or out in the suburbs?”

  I know he grew up in California and moved here after from college and lost his wife to cancer and has a cat with three legs. But all the little things she’d found intriguing just a few hours earlier led her nowhere now.

  “Where does he work? Did he tell you what he does for a living?”

  “Wait. Yes. He’s a writer. For a newspaper.” She couldn’t remember all the details. “Something to do with sports.” God, why didn’t I pay attention?

  “Then we’ll start with that. We’ll track down every newspaper in the city and find every sports writer they have on staff.”

  “On a weekend?”

  “We’ll do what we can.” Sarah stood too. “We should go get Gunnar stitched up. Have someone look at your shoulder, too. You going to last another hour or two?”