Lost (24 page)

It was the first time he had gone into a
crowded place. He had a pair of jeans that he stole from someone’s house, as
well as a shirt and some boots. He fit in. Or so he hoped.

For the first
time in many months, he had woken up that morning with no headache. He felt
strong, healed. He had run over to her house, only to see her pulling out of
the driveway. She waved to the young man standing on the porch, and he felt a
wave of jealousy, but shook it off.

He stood for a
moment, in the trees hidden from anyone that lived in the houses. He watched
her drive off, and then followed her.

He sniffed the
air as he ran. The Woman was not near. He didn’t know where she was, but at the
moment, he didn’t care.

Fern Abney was an imposing woman. She
was taller than Ethan Jeffries, and he was 6’1”. Her blonde hair was pulled
back into a severe bun, and her steel blue eyes were anything but welcoming.
But over the years, Ethan had learned her weakness—caramel candies. And he
brought her a tiny box of the good stuff—Godiva. He needed her help, and he
wanted it quickly.

“Hey, Fern,”
Ethan called as he entered her domain. The Records Branch was in the basement,
and Fern ruled over it. If it was in there, she knew where it was.

She peered at
him, her eyes not thawing. “Jeffries. What do you want?”

She was
no-nonsense. He’d give her that.

“I have
something for you.” He held out the tiny box with the gold lettering, and he
saw a ghost of a smile light up her face. Why, she was almost pretty!

“A bribe. Must
be serious.” She got up from her desk and sauntered over to the counter.

He handed her
the box and dove in, “It is. Brian Klevan. Hit by a car, November 2012.”

She was
nodding. “I remember the case. Pretty cut and dry, if I remember correctly.
What do you want with that?”

“You sure it
was cut and dry? Nothing hinky? Nothing weird?” Ethan pressed her.

She thought for
a moment, and then took a bite of one of the caramels. She closed her eyes,
savoring it. “Now that you mention it…”

She trailed off
and went into one of the stacks.

“Now that I
mention what? Seriously, Fern, you can’t leave me hanging here.” He leaned
over, straining to get a look at what she was doing.

She came out
and had a file in her hands. “Okay. Not sure if this is ’hinky’ or not, but for
an accident like this,
this
is kind of weird.”

Ethan took the
file from her.

I decided to stop by Whole Foods and
pick up some burgers for dinner. I had the kitchen back in order, and we still
had some charcoal in the garage. I’m sure I could figure out how to get the
grill going—that’s what the Internet was for.

Since it was a
short trip from the mall to the grocery store, I just left the car’s top up.
The engine’s growl was much more obvious without the wind noise. I pulled into
the parking lot, opened the door, and stepped out.

What a
beautiful day!

The sun was
shining, not too muggy. Brian always said it was the humidity that sucked, and
I tended to agree. I walked into the store, making a mental list of what we
needed.

●
                   
Hamburgers. Better
get 12. The boys might be hungry.

●
                   
Corn. If we get the
grill going, might as well do some grilled corn on the cob.

●
                   
Baked potatoes. I’ll
just throw them in the oven.

And while I was
there, I would pick up some fruit for the kids. We had been eating takeout the
past few days while the guys worked on the ceiling and cleaned up the mess. But
now that I could get back in my kitchen, I felt like cooking. I figured we
could do the burgers, and then the next day I would make a menu for the week,
and we could run to Costco and Harris Teeters to get what we needed.

I grabbed a
cart and just wandered the aisles for a little while. It wasn’t often that I
got to go to the store by myself, and I was enjoying the peace and quiet.

Oh yeah!
Burgers on sale! Gourmet patties for a dollar.

I grabbed 20
and had the butcher split them up into two packs of ten. I could always freeze
one. I placed them in the cart, alongside the potatoes and corn I had already
picked up. The girls loved watermelon, and the store had some nice ones, so I
had picked up one of those for dessert as well. Yogurt went into the cart, as
did some milk and hamburger buns.

I was sure
there were other things we needed, but this assortment would do for now. I
pushed my cart up to the self-checkout and rang up my purchases. I forgot my
bags, so I had to use the brown paper bags. I packed up my stuff and paid. I
pushed the little cart outside and fished my keys out of my purse.

Hmm… only 12
o’clock. Not too shabby.

Joe was
bringing over the flooring samples at 2, so I had plenty of time to get home,
put everything up, and maybe grab a sandwich. I put the food in my trunk, got
in the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

No one paid any attention to him. He fit
right in again. The early shoppers just moved around him, paying him no mind,
and he made sure he could always see her.

The Woman had destroyed
her bedroom, so she tried on clothes and bought new bras. He liked the black
one she picked out.

She came out of
a store once and looked up, and he thought she saw him, but she kept right on
walking.

After a few
hours, she finished her shopping, and he followed her out to the parking lot.
He watched as she opened the trunk of her car and dropped her bags inside. She
shut the trunk and lovingly ran her hand along the lines of the car.

He knelt behind
a large SUV when she looked up. He was suddenly assaulted by visions. He saw
her smiling in the passenger seat of the car, working frantically to put a
scarf over her hair. A hand—his hand?—reached out and cupped her cheek,
caressing her smooth skin. Her beautiful hair blew in the wind, and her laugh filled
his head.

She drove away,
and he moved to follow her.

He saw her pull
into the parking lot of a grocery store. After making sure The Woman was
nowhere near, he left her alone. He was getting tired. All the running was
taking its toll on his healing body, and he needed to rest. He took a moment to
orient himself to his surroundings, and then took off toward his home.

About 20 minutes later—I took the long
way with the top down—I pulled into my garage. Sam and the girls were still
out, so I unloaded my packages myself. After putting up the food, I lugged my
bags full of clothes upstairs and started putting them away.

Hangers!
Shoot!

Most of my
hangers had also been destroyed, and I had completely forgotten about that. It
was pushing 12:45, so I called Joe and asked if we could meet at 2:30 instead
of 2. He said that actually worked better for him, so I grabbed my purse and
headed off to Target. I was breaking my promise to Jessie, but in my defense, I
hadn’t bought any of my new clothes at Target.

And 30 minutes
later, that promise was completely broken. It was a really cute sundress
though! And who couldn’t use new socks? I had gotten tons of new hangers, and I
couldn’t resist—I picked up the new
People
magazine. Poor Amanda
Bynes—she used to be so sweet.

10 minutes
later, I was once again pulling into my garage. I was done for the day. If I’d
forgotten something, it would just have to wait until the next day. I ran
upstairs and spread out my purchases—shorts, T-shirts, a few casual dresses, some
jeans. I was feeling good about my purchases. I’m sure my budding fashionista
would find something to fault me with, but I was sure my wardrobe was on it’s
way to being replenished.

I was listening
to my iPod, and humming along to Bruno Mars when the doorbell rang, scaring me
out of my reverie. Two thirty right on the dot. Joe had always been punctual,
even in college when I was pretty sure he was drunk 75% of the time.

“Hey, guys!
Come on in!” I opened the door, and then stood to the side, as he and Isaiah
brought in a few samples for us to look at.

“Alright. You
ready to do this?” Joe asked me as I followed the two of them up the stairs.

“I don’t know.
You guys probably have a better eye than I do. I think I’m going to defer to
you,” I said as we reached my bedroom door, and they laid the samples down.

They had six
different samples. I was about to tell them that they all looked good to
me—Honestly, they did!—but then they started their critique.

“I think the
color’s a bit off in this one,” Joe said putting one aside.

“Yeah, I see
that. This one doesn’t have that distressed look of the original flooring. See
that?” Isaiah put another one aside.

Joe nodded.
“Plank width is off on these two. And this other one might be hard to get.”

Isaiah held up
the only sample left. “Okay, baby girl. What do you think?”

“Umm… perfect?”
I replied, more asking than telling. Like I said, they all looked good to me.

“Yep, we think
so too,” Joe told me. “This flooring can be in by Monday, and we can pick it up
and come out and get started right away.”

“Guys, you
don’t have to rush around for me.”

“We would’ve
done it for Brian, so you know we’ll do it for you,” Joe told me, and I got the
feeling that part of the discussion was done.

I thanked them,
as I knew arguing wouldn’t do any good, and I mentioned the party I had
planned, “So... August 10. Don’t make plans.”

“Why aren’t I
making plans?” Isaiah asked me.

“I thought I’d
have a big cookout at the lake house—bounce house for the kids, burgers, hot
dogs, beer… I want to invite everyone.”

Brian threw a
big summer bash for the guys every year at the lake house. The kids went
swimming off the dock, and we hired a DJ. Well, we didn’t really hire a DJ. One
of the guys moonlighted as a DJ part time, and he always volunteered his services.
We danced and sang. It was a great time. I hadn’t planned on doing
anything—after all it wasn’t our company anymore, but it felt right.

“Sounds great!
Are you sure you’re up to it?” Isaiah asked me.

“Yep! We all
are. The kids are already looking forward to it.” They were. I wasn’t lying
about that. I had already told Ben, Amy, Bee, and Anthony, and they were
coming. It was going to be a great time—just like it was last time.

“Great! I’ll
make up some flyers and put one in everyone’s paycheck next Friday. Guess, I’ll
need to bring up my grill?” Joe asked.

Joe had this
ridiculous grill that he made. I don’t know how else to describe it except that
to get it up to the lake house, he had to use a trailer. I think the record at
the last get-together was 103 burgers. The thing was huge.

“You bring the
grill. I’ll get the charcoal?” I offered.

“Deal,” Joe
said, making another note in his yellow legal tablet. “So we good on this one,
yep?” He asked me as he held up the only sample he and Isaiah had deemed worthy.

“Yeah, works
for me. Do you know how much it’ll cost?”

“I can get you
an exact figure once I get to the store. We can call you, and you can pay for
it over the phone. That okay?”

That’s exactly
what I’d done with the mirror and the shower doors, so that was fine with me.
Joe had refused to take any money for the replacement toilet he brought over
previously. I walked the guys down to the front door, and Joe told me I should
hear from him in an hour or so. Then, hopefully by this time next week, my
house would be back to normal, with the exception of the pictures that I had
not yet gotten frames for.

After they
left, I shut the door and grabbed my new magazine. I sat down and read about
the tragedy that was now Amanda Bynes.

He had arrived back at the house and
immediately laid down. No headache, but he was still tired. He hadn’t been
sleeping good.

She filled his
dreams. He heard her laughing. The kids from the picture were there too, always
smiling, always asking him questions.

A part of him knew
they were memories, but another part of him just got angry at the dreams. He
felt like the answers he needed were so close, within his grasp, but he could
never grab them and hold on.

He laid down
and prayed the dreams stayed away so that he could sleep.

“Not hinky, my ass!” Ethan Jeffries
muttered to himself.

“You okay,
bud?” Walter Petterson asked him. Walt was a uniform, but he and Ethan had been
at the academy together.

Ethan threw the
file on his desk and leaned back in his battered old chair. “Do you remember a
Brian Klevan? Jogger? Hit by a car last November?”

Walt racked his
brain. “Yeah, yeah I do. He was a younger guy, right? 40, something like that?”

“38. Was hit
out on Route 17.”

“If I remember
correctly, that was a pretty simple case. Why you looking at the file?” Walt
asked.

“He left behind
a wife, five kids… Seems someone broke into their house while they were away.
Did a real number.”

“Think the two
are connected?” Walt looked interested now.

“Look at this
report. Car hit him going almost 55 miles per hour. Look at the list of
injuries.”

Walt read the
report, and then he reread it. “Okay. I feel like I’m gonna look stupid, but
what am I not seeing here?”

“The M.E. said
he died of a TBI... See right here.” Ethan pointed to the report. “Traumatic
brain injury. But aside from that, no broken bones in his body. How do you get
hit by a car, a minivan at that, going that fast and have no broken bones?
None
.
Not even a finger!”

Understanding
flashed across Walt’s face, and he looked up at his friend. “No?”

“I talked to
Hogarty over at the lab. Do you know what he said they found at the Klevan
house?”

“Do I want to
know?” Walt’s blood was turning to ice, just like Ethan’s had after talking to
the lab tech.

“A fingernail…
a wolf’s fingernail. Or perhaps I should say a wolf’s claw.”

Walt sat down
and put his head on his desk. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“’Fraid I can’t
do that my friend,” Ethan said.