said sarcastically.
“Because that was a one-time thing. Next time, I’ll show you no mercy.”
“I don’t think there’ll be a next time.”
“Oh.”
I believed I heard dejection in Dawn’s voice. “What I meant was I don’t plan on drinking so much in the future.”
“Oh,” she said more enthusiastically. “So were you calling to ask me out or to see if I still respected you?”
“Neither, actually,” I said. “I’m trying to fill in a few blanks and apparently you’re the one person who can help me out.”
“You have to be quick. A bunch of businessmen are walking in for a late lunch.”
“Okay, here goes. How did you get into my house last night?”
“The front door.”
“Was it open?”
“No, it was locked. It took me five minutes to get the keys out of your pocket, because every time I tried you’d turn and say something funny like, ‘Hey, I’m not that kind of guy,’ or ‘You better stop before my neighbours call the police.’”
“Sounds like something I might say while inebriated,” I laughed. “So, when we stumbled into the house, do you remember if the lights were on or the TV was going?”
“No, everything was dark,” Dawn said immediately. “I fumbled for the switch inside the door and went from there.”
“But you’re sure the TV wasn’t on?”
“Positive. Now I’ve really got to go, Steve.”
“One last thing. After you put me to bed, did you watch any TV or put on a video?”
“You’re not asking me all these questions because you woke up and your TV was gone, are you? I didn’t steal it—I left everything just the way I found it.”
“The television is still here and I’m not accusing you of anything, I swear.”
“Good, because after you passed out, I was so tired I crashed in the spare room. I left for work this morning at seven,” she protested. “I even locked the front door when I left.”
There was nothing in her voice that made me think she was lying. I looked into the guest room and saw the outline of a petite body on the comforter. On the nightstand, I saw a gold watch.
“Do you want me to drop your watch off at the pub or would you rather pick it up here?” I asked.
“I knew I left it there. I feel lost without it,” Dawn admitted. “I get off at 3:30. Will you still be there?”
“I’m waiting for a long distance call from a high school friend I haven’t talked to since graduation. He’s supposed to call between 3:00 and 3:15, so drop by when you’re finished.”
“Are you sure? What if they call later and you start talking about your pimply-faced glory days? I wouldn’t want to interrupt you or anything.”
“This guy is very punctual and his present landlord is very strict about his phone privileges.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Great,” I replied. “Before you go, Dawn, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your boyfriends . . . but thanks for last night. You were wonderful.”
There was a brief moment of dead air before Dawn said, “To be truthful, Steve, you’re the first one who actually sounded like he meant it. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now get to table six and see what those loser businessmen want, but no souvenir coasters, okay?”
“Okay.”
I put down the phone and stood in the middle of my living room, taking in my surroundings as if for the first time. My eyes took in the furniture, the entertainment unit, the prints on the wall, the lights on the end tables, the track lighting, the light switches, the smoke alarm—anything that could give me some clue as to what had taken place the previous evening. Someone had entered this space, taken the mysterious video, then shut off the lights and locked the front door behind them.
Who would do such a thing and why? Even more perplexing was how did they get in?
The video’s contents were also very disturbing, as it proved Linda had been at the motel on that terrible night. I just couldn’t quite figure out how this tantalizing fact could be used against me. The police and I both concluded Linda found out about the affair, had decided enough was enough, packed her things and left the house that evening. The end.
For me, the most troubling thing was the third party involved here—the guy with the camera. He had obviously been following us and passed the information on to Linda. I remembered how her head snapped around as she approached The Loser’s Love Den. It was apparent the accomplice had honked his horn to alert her of the plumber’s return.
My mind was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Linda and this other individual had been working together, when a more disturbing notion popped up: what if they knew the plumber and the three of them had plotted against Samantha and me? Was that possible?
I frantically tried to erase the idea from my head. There was no way Linda would knowingly be part of some twisted murder-for-hire plot. I’ve known several women in my disastrous romantic past who had possessed all of the traits needed for such a plan, yet I was certain Linda was not one of them.
“No way,” I shouted at the empty room. She had been set up. There were no two ways about it.
That she hadn’t returned my call was no surprise, but the fact Maria hadn’t heard from her either was worrisome. Linda had confided in her about our problems in the past, so why not now? To be perfectly honest, during the past few weeks we’d had some nasty, dirty fights that were the beginning of the end of our engagement. We both knew it, yet couldn’t bring ourselves to actually do anything about it.
I was now ambivalent about her so-called disappearance. On one hand, it was a fitting conclusion to our turbulent relationship; a dramatic statement, if she’d left voluntarily, as I believed she had. On the other hand, I began to feel queasy when I envisioned the person who’d shot the video taking her against her will for some unknown reason.
My mind tried to close down this avenue of thinking. She’ll call, I kept telling myself. Sooner or later, she’ll have to return to work, I tried to convince myself. She is angry with life, with me and this city.
She’s fine. She has to be.
FIVE
At 3:01 p.m. my phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Steven Cassidy?” a stern male voice asked.
“Yes, this is Steven Cassidy.”
“Please hold.”
After
