Deception (3 page)

Nearly six weeks have
gone by and I haven’t heard from or seen Alicia since that one night we spent together. I’ve spent many hours wondering what happened to her after she left here and what caused her to leave so suddenly. I can’t help but think it was something I did to drive her away, although I don’t know what that is. Maybe I was too aggressive with her. Maybe she just wanted a fling, a one night stand sort of thing. I wanted more and maybe that was too much for her. I think about her every day still and wonder what could have been.

One thing I haven’t been able to figure out though, is the meaning of what she left behind. The fact that she acknowledged me and the connection we had makes me less certain that I actually did something wrong. Sometimes I wonder if something bad has happened to her.

I open my nightstand and pull out the note she left behind. The note was on my nightstand when I woke up the next morning, and she was nowhere to be found. I read it every now and again, hoping I’ll find some sort of subliminal message embedded from deep within the text. I haven’t yet. I read the note silently to myself:

Thank you for a great day, George Sanders.

XOXO

Alicia

That’s it. I never even got her phone number. The heartache returns each time I read it, but I can’t help myself. There is something special about that girl and she is going to be difficult to get over. I try to put her out of my mind and move on sometimes, but I swear I can still smell her perfume on the pillows on my bed. I think I would do just about anything to see her again.

I toss the note back into the nightstand and close the drawer. I sigh before making my way down the hallway and starting the shower. Maybe I should just fly to California and track her down myself. California’s not that big, right?

---
 

It’s July already and
the morning is humid and sticky. I sit at the table, eating breakfast while reading the newspaper as I prepare for another day of working for The Man. I have to leave in fifteen minutes, but my enthusiasm is at an all-time low this morning. I dreamt about her last night, so I’m feeling a little down today. I’d much rather sit around and mope.

As I scan through the daily business news, I can hear my phone ringing in the other room. It’s quite unusual for someone to be calling me this early in the morning, so I make my way down the hallway and into my room to where my phone is being charged to check it out. It’s an unregistered number. I shake my head in disgust and assume it’s probably another telemarketer. I let it ring. Almost immediately, it rings again. It’s another unregistered number, probably the same one as before. I pick it up this time.

“Hello.”

“Is this George Sanders?” says an unfamiliar male voice on the other end.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Do you know an Alicia Diaz?

“Who is this?”

“Do you know an Alicia Diaz?

“Who the hell is this?

“Do you know an Alicia Diaz?”

“Tell me who this is.”

“If you know an Alicia Diaz, meet me at Josie’s Bar and Pub in thirty minutes.”

“What the hell is going on? How did you get this number?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Click.

“Hello? Hello?” I pull the phone away from my ear and look at it, then I return it to its original position. “Hello?”

The male voice on the other end is gone.

I spend the next few minutes pacing back and forth, thinking. What should I do? Is she in trouble? Do I even care? Do I want to get involved? I try to tell myself to think rationally about the situation, but my decision is obvious. My entire body is overwhelmed with the rush of emotion. I grab my keys, run out the door, and slide into my Honda Civic. I speed out of the driveway and head toward the interstate. I hit speed dial two. Bob, the manager of the bank that I work in, answers after the first ring.

“Hello,” Bob says.

“Hi, Bob?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, Bob, it’s George. I won’t be in today.”

“What do you mean? We have that meeting with the Joneses.”

“I’m know, I’m really sorry. Ask them to reschedule, something has come up.”

He notices my frantic tone. “Jeez, George, is everything alright?”

“I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later though, okay?”

“George, but-”

I hang up, cutting him off. I toss the phone on the seat next to me and loosen my tie. I merge my way onto the interstate in the direction of Josie’s Bar and Pub, a local hot spot.

I arrive at the bar twenty-eight minutes later. The parking lot is almost empty besides a couple of cars at the far end, which likely belong to the employees. I hurry up the sidewalk to the front door, ignoring the closed sign in the window. My shoulder jams as I yank on the locked door handle.

What the hell?

I shade my eyes as I try to peek inside, but I see nothing. I try the door on the left, then the double doors at the same time, but neither will budge. “Hello?” I yell out to no one as I knock on the glass. I glance at my watch: It’s been thirty-one minutes since the call. The sign on the door says the bar doesn’t open for another hour. I turn to the parking lot, scan, and still see no one. With nothing left to do, I make my way back to the Civic.

As I approach it, a loud hum of squealing tires catches my attention to my right. A large white van rolls into the parking lot at a high rate of speed, nearly flipping on its side. The driver speeds toward me and slams the brakes to the pavement, spinning the van 270 degrees. The two back doors stare me in the face as the van comes to a stop. One of the doors swing open and a shadowy figure points his arm toward me. The arm reaches forward, grabs my collar, and pulls me into the van. The door slams and the driver peels off, out the same way he came in.

It all takes less than five seconds.

The ride home feels
like the drive of shame, as if I did something dirty. It’s 9:45 A.M. and the streets are nearly empty. I’m able to cruise well above the speed limit in my patrol car and arrive home within fifteen minutes. It usually takes me twenty-five. I’m still a bit irked by the way Jack dismissed me the way that he did, but I try to tell myself it’s not personal. But if he’s not going to do something to help me either, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.

I unlock the front door and walk into the living room. My brother, Frank, is napping on the leather sofa. The TV is on in the background, as usual, and I don’t recognize the midday programming. I intentionally slam the door to wake him. Frank’s husky frame startles at the sound and he nearly falls onto the floor. He notices me standing in the doorway.

“What you doin’ home already?” he says as he tries to pretend like he wasn’t sleeping.

“I’ll be home for the next few weeks, so get used to it. And get your feet off the table.”

He does. “Did you get fired?”

“No.”

“What happened then?”

I just stare at him, not wanting to get into it. “Vacation.”

He nods, conceding the conversation. Frank moved in with me immediately after our father died. Our father was his caretaker, and he did an admirable job of it. Our mother died of cancer when we were young, so it was just the three of us up until a few months ago. Now all we have is each other.

“Did you take your meds?” I say to Frank.

He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment, his tongue protruding through his teeth. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Are you sure?”

He thinks some more. “Yeah, I remember now, I did.”

I nod and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. I place the box of personal items from my desk on the floor and start to remove my uniform. I place everything neatly on the bed before putting them on hangers. Frank walks in as I’m changing my underwear.

“Hey, Billy, I forgot to tell you something,” he says.

I cover myself instinctually, then I drop my arms to the side to prove a point as I face Frank. He covers his eyes with his hands.

“Can I get dressed first?” Frank nods and walks backwards until he’s out of the room. I finish getting dressed and find him back in the living room. “What is it?”

“This came for you yesterday.” He timidly hands me a sealed envelope addressed from the city.

I stare at him in disgust, as this isn’t the first time he has forgotten to give me something that was dropped off at the house while I was out. I rip the envelope from his hand, tear it open, and read the notice: It’s the final notification that my property tax bill is due today. I have the three other notices hanging on the fridge, but I keep forgetting to pay it. Maybe I should have listened to my broker when he suggested that I set up an escrow so it gets paid automatically with my mortgage. I guess I’ll have to go pay it in person so it’s paid on time.

I look to Frank. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

---

It takes me about
twenty-three minutes to drive back into the center of town. I take my personal van, which is just an old painters van that I bought for a couple thousand bucks earlier this year. I had bought it with the intention of having something inconspicuous that I could use to track Snake without him knowing it was me. He hasn’t seen me yet, as far as I know, so it seems the investment is paying off. The van has two front seats and a wide open back with a leather bench on either side. I’ve been tossing a bunch of trash back there for reasons I’m not quite sure of. It’s unlike me to do that, but something about the condition of it makes me feel like it’s better to be a mess.

City Hall is just a block from the police station. I park the van on the street and put a few dimes in the meter. Frank and I walk side-by-side up the stairwell and enter the brick building through the double doors in the front. The place is jammed as usual, so we stand in line in front of the glass that separates the public from the clerks.

There is a new girl behind the desk. I say girl, but she’s really a woman. She’s all woman. Her skin is tanned and her dark hair is held up in a bun. She’s not black, but she definitely doesn’t look like the people that live around here; she’s far more beautiful than any of the locals. There is something exotic about her, and it attracts me to her instantly.

As I study her, my eyes find her chest that is bursting out of her blouse, and I can’t help but stare and fantasize. She seems to notice, because she looks down and buttons the top button just moments later. She flicks her eyes up at me and offers a weak smile. I smile back and lower my eyes, embarrassed that I’ve been caught. The line eventually thins out and Frank and I approach the window.

“Good afternoon. What can I do for you today?” says the beauty from behind the glass. She smiles after, showing me her pearly whites. I slide the envelope from the city under the glass without saying anything. She opens it and reads. “William Lewis…that name sounds familiar.”

“I’m a police officer here in town,” I say.

She pauses. “That’s what it is. You must be Junior. William Lewis Junior, right? I heard what happened to your dad. I’m so very sorry for that.”

“Yeah, thanks. We’re getting through it.”

She looks down at the envelope again, then back up at me. “Payment method?”

“Excuse me?”

“How did you want to pay for this?”

“Oh, right. Personal check.” I remove the checkbook from my back pocket and finish filling out the check using one of the pens with the flower on it from the cup on the clerk’s desk. I slide the check under the glass. “You must be new around here.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Thought so.”

“How’d you know? Is it that obvious?” She almost blushes.

“I’ve just never seen you around before, that’s all. I know just about everyone who works for the city, or I know of them at least. You know, me being a cop and all.”

She nods in understanding. “Right.” She enters some information into her computer, marking me as paid I would imagine, then she slides the envelope back to me under the glass. “Do you want a receipt?”

I shake my head.

“Well it was nice to meet you, William. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Billy, you can call me Billy.”

“Okay, Billy. Nice to meet you.” She offers me the same weak smile as before.

“You too.” I turn to leave, but stop myself before fully turning around. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh, sorry.” She points to the wooden plaque that has her name inscribed on it that sits on the edge of her desk. “I’m Alicia Diaz.”

“Nice to meet you, Alicia.” I turn to leave again, but I can’t get myself to walk away just yet. The middle-aged woman with her two young children behind me in the line mumbles something under her breath as I turn back to Alicia again. “You know, since you’re new around here, maybe you’d like someone to show you around. I do know the area pretty well, you know, me being a police officer and all. So I was thinking maybe I could show you around sometime.”

She ponders the offer.

“It never hurts to make friends with the police, especially in a new place,” I continue, trying to seal the deal.

She laughs softly to herself, amused. She studies Frank and I, who I almost forgot was even here, and she considers the offer further.

“Sure, why not? That sounds nice,” she says.

I smile at her. “Yeah? Okay, great. That’s great.”

“I’ve got nothing to do tonight. I get out at five. Are you free?”

“Tonight? Tonight is good.”

“Good. I hear the pub a couple blocks from here is pretty good. Want to meet me there?”

“That sounds perfect.”

She smiles at me through the glass again, so I return the pleasantry. My heart flutters.

Maybe Jack was right; maybe three weeks off is just what I need.