Out of the Black Page 9

  Oh, God, the driver.

  I tried to focus, but my thoughts were scattered, and each time I put something together, another part would drift away into the slow white nothing.

  Then I remembered Anna, and everything changed.

  “Can you walk?”

  I looked at the deputy and nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Because we don’t have much time.”

  I thought about the older deputy and said, “Where did they—”

  “They took him somewhere.” The deputy pointed to the corner where the driver’s body had been. “I don’t know where, and I don’t care. I don’t want any part of it.” He shook his head. “I don’t mind looking the other way for a few extra bucks now and then, but I didn’t sign up for murder, or for whatever happened to your kid.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I know if you don’t get the hell out of here, you’re next. These guys don’t fuck around, and I won’t be able to help you again.”

  I glanced over at the open door. “You want me to just walk out of here?”

  “My keys are on the desk,” he said. “My cruiser is parked out front. Take it and go.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “They’ll know—”

  “They won’t know shit.” He reached down and unclipped the Taser on his belt and handed it to me. “Use this.”

  “What?”

  “You snuck up on me when I thought you were out cold. You grabbed it and that’s all I remember.” He waved his hand toward the door. “I’ve only been here for two months, and they already the lightheto the out of think I’m a rookie fuckup. They’ll believe it.”

  I looked down at the Taser in my hand.

  “They’re coming back,” he said. “If you don’t go now, you won’t get another chance.” He pointed to the cell door. “Lock me in when you leave. That’ll buy you some time.”

  I nodded.

  The deputy stepped closer, pointed at the Taser.

  He didn’t have to tell me again.

  I did what he asked and closed the cell door behind me, locking him inside. The hallway was bright, and I reached out, bracing myself against the wall as I made my way toward the front of the building.

  23

  Traffic on the highway was light, and the city skyline glowed in the distance, reflecting bright under a low overhang of clouds. I kept the radio off and the windows down as I drove, and I forced myself to focus on one thing.

  Finding Roman Pinnell.

  I didn’t think about Anna. I wouldn’t let myself. I knew if I did, if I let my guard down even for a second, emotion would take over and I’d make mistakes. And if I made mistakes, I’d lose her forever.

  I was not going to let that happen.

  As I drove, I tried to figure out a plan. My thoughts were still heavy and slow, but I had a good idea of where I needed to start.

  When I got to my exit, I pulled off the highway and drove through my neighborhood to my house. There was no one on the street, but I pulled around back to the alley just to be safe.

  I stopped behind my house and watched the windows for any signs of life. When I was sure it was clear, I shut off the engine and stepped out and walked along the back fence to the gate. I reached over and popped the latch.

  The hinges were rusted and loud.

  I looked around to see if anyone heard, but nothing had changed. There was only wind and shadow and snow.

  I crossed through the yard to my back door.

  It was locked.

  They’d taken my keys after they’d picked me up, so my options were limited. I tried a couple of windows, but I knew the result would be the same.

  That left only one way inside.

  I took off my shirt and held it over one of the small window squares on the back door then hit it hard with my elbow. The glass popped out, shattering on the floor.

  I reached through and unlocked the door.

  The house was warm and silent. I stood in the kitchen and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Then I walked out to the living room and down the hall toward my bedroom. When I got there, I threw my bloody shirt in the corner and hit the light switch.

  Nothing happened, and I remembered the power was out.

  I crossed to the nightstand next to the bed, opened the top drawer, and grabbed a red LED flashlight. I pushed the button and the light came on bright.

  I turned and opened the closet.

  My clothes were hung on the rack, and there were several boxes stacked on the floor and on the top shelf. I grabbed a new shirt then put the flashlight in my mouth and reached up and pushed a few boxes aside until I felt the handle of my gun case.

  I pulled it out and set the case on the bed and dialed in the combination. The latches popped, and I opened the lid. My .45 was inside, along with two loaded clips and a full box of ammo.

  I slid one of the clips into the gun, loaded a round, and checked the safety. Then I pocketed the other clip and the extra ammo and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

  I put the .45 in my belt and set the flashlight on the sink, pointing up, then leaned forward and examined my face in the mirror. It didn’t look as bad as I’d expected. Most of the blood was gone—probably washed off from the hose in the cell—but there was a deep gash along the right side where the old man’s cane had hit, and another over the bridge of my nose.

  Not too bad, considering.

  I turned on the water and started washing the remaining blood from my face and chest. I’d gotten most of it off when I heard a noise coming from the front of the house.

  I shut off the water and listened.

  There were footsteps on the porch.

  I took the gun from my belt, switched off the flashlight, and walked out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway between the hall and the living room.

  I heard the thin chime of keys. Then the lock turned.

  I lifted the gun, clicked the safety, and took aim.XIs out of

  The door opened to moonlight, and a dark silhouette stepped into the house. I sighted the gun as the figure turned and closed the door.

  For a moment, nothing moved.

  I could hear my heartbeat, loud in the center of my head, and I blinked hard, trying to push away whatever fog was left.

  I held my breath.

  There was a small click, then a beam of light came on and scanned the room. When it passed over me, the figure jumped and dropped the flashlight.

  My finger twitched on the trigger.

  I pulled back at the last second.

  I turned on my flashlight and shone it on Carrie. She was standing in the doorway, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. She stared at me for a moment then dropped her hands to her chest and said, “Matt?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw the light,” she said. “I thought it might be you. I wanted to see if—” She stopped, looked around. “You didn’t find her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I slid the gun into my belt and turned back to the bathroom. “It means I don’t have her yet.”

  “Where is she?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I set the flashlight back on the sink and finished scrubbing the blood off my skin.

  Carrie followed me, stopping in the doorway.

  When I looked up at her in the mirror, she gasped.

  “Oh my God.” She stepped into the bathroom and pulled at my shoulder. “Let me look.”

  I told her it was fine.

  She reached up and felt the sides of my nose with her fingertips. “You need a doctor.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Carrie put her hands on either side of my head and ran her thumbs over my cheeks and around my eyes. “Does anything else hurt? Is anything else broken?”

  I reached up and grabbed her wrists. “I’m fine, Carrie.”

  For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Carrie’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned forward and rested her h
ead against my chest. I put my arms around her, and we stood like that for a long time.

  After a while, I said, “I need you to do something.”

  “What?”

  24

  I waited a few minutes before walking down the hall to Anna’s room. Her door was half-open, and in the shadows, I could see that all the drawings and signs had been taken down. I stopped outside and stared at the thin split in the wood where the tip of the knife had gone through, then I reached out and pushed the door open.

  Carrie was sitting on Anna’s bed, crying, staring down at her hands folded in her lap.

  Anna’s room was spotless. The bloodstained carpet by her door had been cut out in a large square, revealing the scarred hardwood floor beneath.

  “Did you do this?” I asked.

  “I had to do something,” Carrie said. “I couldn’t stand knowing it was there.”

  I stepped into the room and checked the other side of the door. The wood had been scrubbed clean, but the deep gash where the knife went in was wide and visible.

  “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “No,” I said. “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do.” She looked up at me, her eyes wet and bright. “I was here when they took her. I couldn’t do anything.”

  “No one is blaming you,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay!” Carrie’s breath caught in her throat and she looked away. “It’s not okay.”

  “You did everything you could.”

  Carrie laughed to herself.

  “Come on,” I said. “Don’t do that.”

  “I listened to her scream when they dragged her out of her room. That was all I could do.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but she stopped me.

  “I saw what happened. I was here.” She paused, stared at me. “Don’t ever tell me I’m not involved.”

  My legs felt weak, and I sat beside her on the bed. For a while, neither of us said anything. Then Carrie came around the cornerheo“How do you know that?” moved closer and leaned her head against my shoulder.

  I put my hand on her leg.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “We’re going to get her back.”

  Carrie looked up at me. “What happened, Matt? Who were those people? What did they do with her?”

  I thought about it, but I couldn’t find the words. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Carrie reached up and touched my chin, turning my face to hers. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine.

  I didn’t stop her, and I didn’t pull away.

  I let myself drift in her.

  When we broke, she slid her fingers down my cheek and said, “Start at the beginning.”

  So I did.

  I told Carrie everything, starting with the night I met Jay in the bar. By the time I got to the old woman and the warehouse down by the river, Carrie was up, pacing the room. When I told her what happened in the holding cell in Pella Valley, she waved a hand in front of her face and said, “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “There’s not much more to tell,” I said. “That’s when I came here.”

  “For your gun?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What exactly were you going to do with it?”

  I thought about my answer, then said, “I’m going to find Roach and get Pinnell’s address.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I’m going to find him and make him tell me where she is.” I paused and looked up at Carrie. “And if he doesn’t tell me, I’m going to kill him.”

  “My God, Matt!”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes.” Carrie sat next to me, took my hands. “Let’s go to the police. They have special departments that handle this kind of thing. They can help us.”

  “If I go to the police, he’s going to kill her.”

  “He won’t find out,” she said. “I can go myself. I can talk to them and tell them the situation. They can track her down a lot faster than you can.”

  “No, they can’t.”

  “Matt, please.”

  “Listen to me,” I said. “We can’t go to the police, not now, not ever, do you understand?”

  “But—”

  “If I do this right, if I can get to him, I can bring her home.”

  “He’ll kill you.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But if I go to the police, Anna is as good as dead. I don’t know who this guy is, but he knows things. He has the sheriff’s department in Pella Valley working for him. God knows who else.”

  “That’s crazy, Matt. No one—”

  “You saw what he did here,” I said. “I told you the light>s out of what happened to me. It’s too much of a risk.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  I shook my head, slow.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said. “You can’t go off and expect me to sit here and wait for you like I’m—”

  “I need you to stay out of it, please.”

  “I can’t sit here helpless, Matt. I won’t.”

  I got up and took a marker and a piece of yellow construction paper from Anna’s desk. “I’m going to try and call you tonight, but if you don’t hear from me by morning, there’s someone—”

  “Don’t hear from you?”

  “—I need you to call.”

  “Matt, don’t do this.” Carrie got up and stood next to me. She put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me around to face her. “Don’t go running after this guy, please. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  I told her I’d be fine, but my voice sounded weak and unsure, even to me.

  “Matt?”

  I turned back to the yellow construction paper and finished writing out the address. “There’s an old friend of mine I want you to go see. His name is Brian Murphy. He owns a bar over in—”

  “No.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “Not him.”

  “I want you to talk to him,” I said. “If anyone gives you a hard time, tell them you’re there to see Murphy, and that you have a message for him from me. He’ll talk to you.”

  “ent" aid="TI1G

  25

  I didn’t like driving the police cruiser, so I took back roads all the way to Roach’s place. When I got there, I parked down the street and walked the rest of the way to her building.

  I buzzed her apartment.

  There was no answer, and I tried again.

  Still nothing.

  I stepped back and looked around at the cars lining the block. There were two men sitting on a low flight of steps across the street, laughing and passing a bottle between them. I thought about asking them if they knew Roach and if they’d seen her, but decided against it.

  The fewer people who saw me, the better.

  I walked around the side of the building and looked up at Roach’s apartment on the fourth floor. The windows were dark, and all at once the hopelessness of the situation hit me, and my stomach fell away.

  I thought about what Carrie had said and wondered if she was right. I didn’t see how I was going to find Anna on my own. She could be anywhere, and I had nothing to go on. If I called the police and told them what I knew, there was a chance they could help.

  No.

  For the first time, I let myself think about Anna and where she might be and what might be happening to her.

  It was all I needed.

  I walked into the alley and stood under the fire escape. The ladder was pulled up, so I pushed one of the Dumpsters under it and climbed on top.

  I jumped and grabbed the bottom rung and pulled myself onto the fire escape. It took a lot of my strength, and once I was up, I sat and leaned back against the building. My head felt light, and the constant dull pain behind my eyes turned sharp.

  I ignored it and climbed the rusted metal stairs to the fourth floor and looked in Roach’s window, shielding the light from the street with my hands.

&nbs
p; The apartment was dark and empty.

  I could see the coffee table Jay and I had sat around earlier that day while we went over his plan. For a second I was struck by how long ago that seemed, and how much had changed in such a short time.

  I reached down and tried to open the window. It was locked, but the latch inside rattled loose and it didn’t take much force to snap it open and push the window up.

  I took the gun from my belt and ducked inside.

  The air inside Roach’s apartment was stale and smelled like old ashtrays and cooked meat. There was a McDonald’s bag on the coffee table next to several crumpled napkins and a half-empty bottle of Smirnoff vodka.

  Someone had been there since that afternoon.

  I clicked the safety off on the .45 and walked through the living room toward the kitchen and looked in. There were dirty dishes stacked in the sink, and a garbage bag filled with tin the lightawAK. It was cans next to the refrigerator. On the counter, two more empty vodka bottles.

  I lowered the gun.

  Roach had been here, and that meant she’d be back. I didn’t like the idea of waiting for her, but I didn’t see any other option. She handled the appointment books at the salon, and she knew where the old man lived. I wasn’t going anywhere until she told me.

  Outside in the hallway, someone laughed.

  There was a thin sliver of light leaking in from under the door, and I crossed the room and looked out through the peephole. I saw a man and woman standing in front of the apartment across the hall. She had her arms around his neck as he held her hips, pinning her against the wall.

  Eventually, she pushed him away and searched through a set of keys. He came up behind her and kissed her neck. She smiled, slid the key into the lock, and they both disappeared inside.

  I watched their door close then stepped back.

  I thought about my next move.

  It occurred to me that Jay had been staying here. That meant some of his things had to be here. I didn’t think I’d find anything important, but it was worth a shot.

  I took one last look out the peephole then turned away from the door. I made it three steps before I stopped and looked back.

  The chain on the front door was locked.