She yawns on the other end. “I’m tired. I’ve had a long day of drinking.”
I want to laugh, but I fear if I do, she’ll get upset, and it sounds like my poor Lou has had enough upsetting her lately. “You should get some sleep, angel.”
She doesn’t respond to my words because… is she snoring? I hit the volume button on my phone and then the speaker button. Sure enough, the low rumble of Lou’s snores fills my small living room. And I smile. For the first time since I left Zodiac Hills. I’m smiling.
I listen to her sleep for longer than I should, but I can’t help myself. I lie down on my couch and place the phone on my chest and just listen. Until I fall asleep myself. I awake to the sun shining in my face and my phone on the floor. Picking it up, I half expect to hear her sleeping, but our call was disconnected at some point. Maybe it was when it slid off me onto the floor, or it could have been from her end. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. Not even that she drunk dialed me. The fact is, she called, and I could tell by her words, she missed me. Probably not as much as I’ve missed her, though.
I scan my living room. I take a moment toreallylook at it. There’s nothing in it. Sure, I’ve got furniture, but there’s nothing meaningful in it. There’s a single photo sitting on the side table of my mom before she died. I’ve got no friends because working for the police department has taken over my life. Missing persons. It’s depressing as fuck. Who wants to hang with a guy who only has sad stories to tell? Sure, every once in a while there are happy endings, but not usually. It’s the reason I took off in my car that day. The case I was working on, the one with the missing boy, the one ended in the worse way possible. It was the last straw for me. It was the proverbial case that broke the camel’s back. I’m the camel.
That day. The one I just mentioned. The one where we closed the case on a missing seven-year-old boy and after I sat down with his parents to tell them––to explain to them they’re never going to see their son again. They’re never going to hear him laugh or celebrate another holiday with him. The kid is never going to hit a homerun playing baseball or catch a football or graduate from high school
How many of these cases had I investigated? Too many. It’s not always kids but does it matter? We’ve found our fair share of people alive but even one that isn’t coming home, well, that’s one too many. I’ve seen one too many.
As soon as I drove back to the station and without a word to my partner or anyone else, I grabbed the extra shirt out of my desk drawer, jumped into my car, and took off. I had no idea where I was going, I just knew I had to go. I needed to leave.
So, I drove. For hours. Until I saw that house. It was a beacon. Like the house I’d pictured––the one with the two kids and the pretty wife. It was a magnet, and I was metal. I pulled into the driveway behind the old pickup truck, got out, and walked up the steps onto that amazing front porch and knocked.
I swear to you. I knocked.
Then, I heard her singing. She was a siren. One with a terrible singing voice but a siren, nonetheless. When I caught a glimpse of her, I felt this sort of energy, a charge run through me. Hell, just thinking about her gives me that sensation. One I can’t ignore. Not anymore.
I jump up from the couch and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. Next, I pack a bag, this time with enough clothing to last me for longer than a couple of days. In less than twenty minutes, I’ve got my hand on the front door, my keys in hand, and a message sent to my boss. No matter how angry he gets, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore, because I need to know what the fuck is going on with Lou, and I need to know now.
* * *
The drive tookme fifteen hours, plus some. It would have taken longer if I’d stopped to sleep, but I knew I had to get to her. Pulling into Zodiac Hills, I note the time. Just past nine at night.
Assuming she’s at the house, I turn onto Main Street to the large Queen Ann. Her truck is parked in its usual spot. I pull in behind her, throw my car into Park, and stare. From the outside, there doesn’t appear to be any damage except for the window in the rotunda covered by plywood. “Damn.”
Opening the car door, I step onto the gravel drive and stretch. My body is sore from the trek, but I’d do it again.
At the front door, the first thing I notice is the metal security plate that has been placed over the lock. The perps must’ve broken in through the front door. “Jesus. The balls.” You’d think they’d try to sneak in through the back or one of the windows, not through the goddamn front door. Raising my hand, I’m tempted to knock, but the door is ajar.
“Woman….” I’m a little peeved she hasn’t learned her lesson. Pushing it open, I poke my head in to give a listen. That’s when I hear her. Singing. It’s not that same song, the one about the wet cake. No, this one is a bit less peppy. I take a moment to look at the main hallway. “Christ.” She wasn’t kidding. There are large holes in the walls on both sides that extend to the opening into the kitchen. Peeking into what would have been the dining room, gaping holes are there too. Stepping left, into the room with the broken curved windows, the walls are worse there. I hear her start to sing again and, true to form, her voice is just as off-key as the first time I heard her. I’m not disappointed. Not in the least. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t be happier. Until she sings the sad, sad words. I’m not happy about those.
“I’ve played all my cards. And that’s what you’ve done too.”
Is she talking about us? I miss the next lines when she belts out, “The winner takes it all.” I know I’ve got to find her. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, I spot her in what would have been the butler’s pantry but now is filled with broken cabinetry. “I bet that looked nice.”
Her back is to me and while I want to take a moment to look at her, I can’t. Stepping up to the doorway, I reach in and tap her on the shoulder. I do what I’ve done one too many times before: I scare the shit out of her. And damn, what was I thinking? She’s had her house vandalized by God-knows-who and here I am touching her shoulder while her back is turned. I used to be quite an intelligent man but ever since I met this woman, shit, I’m as dumb as a fucking rock. I deserve the crowbar that just thwacked me across the forehead. I really do.
“Chase?” She yanks off the headphones and stares, panting. “What are you doing here?”
“You called. I came to help.”
“Oh, shit.” Lou’s face turns a bright shade of magenta. “I was hoping I dreamt all that.”
“No. You didn’t.”
Our eyes meet and it feels like we just stare at one another for minutes rather than seconds. Lou finally breaks the stalemate. “You didn’t need to come. I’m fine.” She reaches out to touch my head but pulls back quickly. “You’re going to need ice for that.”
I touch the large lump that’s already forming. “It’s fine. It’s good it’s swelling out rather than in.”
“Uh. Okay.”
She sounds unconvinced.
“After you told me about the house, I had to get up here.”
