Hey buddy, how are you doin?
Pretty good. Glad to hear from you.
Same here. Look, I need your help.
Still? I single handedly got you through English Lit.
I thought we were done with that once we graduated.
LOL. Maybe.
Not quite done yet.
I guess I owe you for staying in touch,
helping me lose all that weight.
I was glad to but this is serious.
I need someone I can trust.
Ok, sure. If I can.
What’s going on?
Terminal cancer. Not long to live.
Holy crap.
Caught me off guard with that.
No other way to say it.
I’m so sorry.
Are you sure?
The doctor is sure.
What can I do?
I’m worried about Dana.
All you’ve told me about her,
I feel like I know her better now than in high school.
Is she okay?
For now.
You remember Mickey?
Yea I know you’re friends,
but I still hate him.
Can’t blame you.
But he’s been hanging around a lot.
He says he wants to help,
but he’s creeping out Dana. And me.
I’m here for you.
What can I do?
I know you have resources now.
Smart & successful.
Thanks I think.
How much do you need?
This is not about money.
You’re the best guy I know.
I know I can trust you.
Absolutely. Anything.
Just say the words.
Mickey is going murder me.
***
With the death of her husband, all color had faded from the world. The funeral was a smear of grays and blacks. Dana sat alone, surrounded by strangers. She clutched the expertly folded flag as the seven rifles cracked three times to salute the fallen, now resting. Looking down, she saw the colors of the flag bleed through her monochromatic vision for the first time since he took his last breath.
A tall kind faced man with some rank, sat beside her, one arm around her shoulders, a protective gesture. She didn’t hear the murmurs of reassurance from him, nor the words of those who passed in a long line of procession to pay their respects. Men and women she’d never seen or spoken too offered promises of support and help should she call upon them. The endless grays of the parade of people moved before her, barely noticed, until she saw the red tip of a handkerchief in the pocket of a suit jacket. The only other splash of color in her field of view. The hand paused on hers a little longer, the voice deepened a little more with regret, not really saying anything significant but conveying a deeper sense of connection. Perhaps this one really had really known him. She didn’t dare look up for fear the tears might start again under the strain of eye contact.
“Thank you.” She managed for the first time that day.
***
I am not okay with this.
I’m going to die soon anyway.
I need to expose this guy.
Protect Dana from him.
Why not just tell her?
Short term solution.
Maybe we run him off now.
But he’ll try again to get close to her after I’m gone.
What makes you so sure?
I know him. We served overseas.
He was a jerk in school, but he got worse.
A lot worse.
How so?
He committed a violent crime over there.
I lied to help him cover it up.
How?
I vouched for his alibi. He has proof.
He has me pinned down and made that clear.
What did he do?
… … …
Denny?
What did he do?
***
Dana sat on the front porch enjoying the rising of the sun from behind her. The orange yellow rays reflected off the windows of the house across the street. The for sale sign had been tagged as sold. She wondered who would buy that particular run down place in a town full of run down places for sale. It had only one redeeming quality that made in unique. The front yard was home to one of the last remaining live oaks that had been planted along the street decades ago when the houses were built. Large branches reached out in every direction. The sinuous roots lifted the sidewalk and street in an effort to claim a larger space which must have saved the gentle giant. Every other tree had been blown over long ago.
The old pickup pulled into the driveway. Roof racks full of fresh 2x4s and pipes. Tools bristled from the bed like arrows in a quiver. Dana leaned forward just enough to sharpen her vision as the man turned in the seat, placed one foot on the running board, and stepped down onto the cracked concrete of the driveway. His jeans seemed to hug him in the right spots. His untucked flannel pulled up just enough to reveal his trim mid drift. The curved bill of a dark blue cap hid eyes she somehow knew could look right through her. Before he looked up, she turned her attention back to her book, allowing him to disappear into the depths of his new house unnoticed, as far as he knew.
***
Here’s the plan. He’s gonna do it soon.
While Dana is at her spin class.
How?
Injection.
He says it’ll be painless.
I’m not so sure.
Why don’t you just shoot him?
You’re dying anyway.
I would be accused of a crime.
Danger of losing benefits that would be passed on to Dana.
Besides I’m so weak.
I’m not sure I could aim or pull the trigger at this point.
Don’t know what to say brother.
There has to be another way.
No. This is the only way.
Promise me.
I promise.
I’m going to hide my phone and record the whole thing.
Then send it to you. Evidence. Take him down.
Count on it.
***
The day after the man had moved in across the street, there was a firm knock at the door. Dana started from her kitchen table. She wasn’t expecting anyone and the solicitors had long ago given up on her neighborhood. She hustled to the door and looked out one of the thin vertical windows on either side. He was standing there. She could recognize that form from yesterday. It had been seared into her mind by the light of the rising sun. Something about him seemed trustworthy. She checked her shirt, pulled up her too tight jeans, and partially opened the door. “Yes?”
“Mornin Ma’am.”
“Mornin.” She replied.
“I just moved in across the street.” He hesitated. She said nothing so he continued. “I noticed this morning you have a problem with a sprinkler. It’s shooting up like a geyser. You probably don’t know because it runs before dawn.”
Dana opened the door the rest of the way. “You’re up before dawn?”
“Usually. Old habits and all that.” He replied.
“Well, I appreciate you letting me know. I’ll have to call someone out I guess.” She said.
“You could.” He replied. “I happen to be working on my irrigation this week. I could take a look if you want. It might be something simple.”
Dana paused for a second unsure how to respond. She pushed long dark hair back behind one ear and gave him a confused look with auburn eyes. Her husband had taken care of things outside the house. She the inside. It was their private deal and she had loved it. Something about the offer appealed to her.
“I just figured I’d offer. You know, in the spirit of getting to know my new neighbor.” He pressed.
Dana relaxed enough to let herself smile. “Ok, but you’ll have to let me offer you pie and coffee when you’re done.”
“Pie?” He asked.
“Apple.”
“Deal.” He said. He gave her a brief smile, nodded, then turned to walk away.
***
When the midday sun reached its zenith, Dana watched from her window as the man knelt to inspect the broken sprinkler. After the repairs where done he knocked. At the door, Dana felt more relaxed this time. She had changed into a long skirt that fit her hips just right, and a comfy jersey with the number 36, worn from use.
“I just need to turn it on and make sure it’s okay.” The man said.
She padded out onto the porch barefoot and pointed to the side of the house. “I think the control box is around there.”
He ran the test and returned to the porch. “Looks good.” He said.
“Have a seat.” She motioned to a small dinette set on the porch. “This time of day an iced tea might be better than coffee.”
“Sounds just fine.” He replied.
She returned in a quick moment with pie and tea for two. They sat in silence enjoying the treat, unconcerned with introductions. It had been just over a month since the funeral. The sudden loneliness had been one of the most jarring things she’d had to deal with. Sitting in company with another person, sharing a meal, was a simple pleasure Dana hadn’t realized she missed so much.
Once finished, Dana broke the silence. “How bad is it?” She said as she looked across the street.
The man smiled as he looked from his empty plate, to her, then to his fixer upper. “Nothin I can’t handle.”
“Is that what you do, home repairs?” She asked.
“Not for work. Just pleasure.” He replied. “I work from home, online. Investments”
“Pretty common these days.” She replied, thinking it was strange that someone working in investments chose her neighborhood. He must not be very good. Or, just starting out.
“How about you.” He asked.
“A bit of the same.” She lied. “Freelance graphic design.” Although she did have a portfolio, Dana hadn’t worked since well before her husband had passed. Managing his illness had consumed all her time and energy during those last few months. He had insisted on being home. She had insisted on taking care of him. Now that he was gone, the government checks coupled with the life insurance would be enough. For the time being. At the mention of it though, she did realize how much she had missed work that she had always it found deeply satisfying. Expressing her artistic side was nourishment for her soul. At least that’s how she had put it to her husband.
“No kiddin.” The man looked at her, intrigued. “If I may ask, I could use a graphics promo kit for a website I’m about to launch.”
Caught off guard, Dana replied. “Uh, well, I suppose I could have a look at it.”
“Great, can I stop by tomorrow, same time after lunch?” He asked.
“Sure. That’s the last of the pie though.”
“Probably for the best.” He patted his tummy. “I’m Drew by the way.”
“Dana,” she replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
Late morning the next day, Dana was disturbed from reviewing her portfolio by a knock on the door. “A little early today, aren’t we.” She mumbled on the way to answering the door, Dana found herself at a full length mirror adjusting a dress she hadn’t worn in years. The smile she also wore took five years off her face, and then quickly faded when she opened the door to find a police officer staring back at her.
He was wearing the same kind face he had worn at the funeral where he had taken advantage of the moment to wrap an arm around her, something she would never have otherwise permitted him to do. While she was in the grips of grief, he had insisted. She had been too weak to refuse.
“Hey Dana.” Mickey said.
“Hey Mickey.” She replied.
“I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.” He said.
After Denny had died, Mickey had called a few times and sent text messages. She hadn’t responded even though he had vowed to look in on her. Mickey and her husband had been friends since childhood and high school teammates. They had also served together. Upon returning, Mickey had become a police officer. Her husband had fallen ill soon after. It had been a long drawn out affair lasting years, in and out of treatments. Mickey had been dutiful, visiting often. He had unnerved her several times with a longing stare he was unable or unwilling to mask. She had the impression he might try to move in on her if her husband passed. Her suspicions confirmed at the funeral, she had been avoiding him. Apparently, he couldn’t take a hint.
“I’m fine, thanks.” She replied.
He lingered at the door, eyebrows up just enough to let her know he had something he wanted to discuss. Yearning for a little familiarity, no matter how creepy, she acquiesced. “Coffee?”
“Love some.” And he stepped in.
***
It’s done. He’s gone.
I wish I was there with you.
Dana will be back any minute.
Promise me you will see this through.
Protect her.
I promise.
I’m going to send…
I didn’t get anything.
Trying to send …
Resend it!
…
…
…
Denny!!
…
***
Drew ignored the police cruiser in the driveway as he strode up the sidewalk towards Dana’s door, a little bit earlier than planned. Before he reached the steps, an officer burst out, gave him an angry look and then stormed off to his car, got in, and sped off. Drew paused for a moment to observe the display.
He shook his head, walked up to the door and knocked.
Dana flung open the door, furious and started to unleash. “I told you to get …”
“Good afternoon.” Drew interrupted.
Dana paused as she let her anger subside. She was still consumed by the events of the past few minutes. Mickey had made an unwelcome pass at her. Apparently, he didn’t take rejection well and an argument had ensued.
She put up a finger, and stepped to the side, glancing in a mirror. “One minute please.”
Drew stepped back and gave her a chance to collect herself.
Dana pulled in a deep breath, and leaned out to be sure Mickey was gone. Relaxing now, she turned her attention back to Drew. “Aren’t you a little early?”
“Maybe, but it is after 12.” He replied.
She stood there, one hand on the door and the other on the frame, eyes narrowed. “I’m still reviewing my portfolio for recommendations.”
“Perfect, I can review with you and save some time.” He replied.
Dana relaxed and stepped aside to let him in. “Okay.”
***
Dana had her laptop and an extra monitor set up on the dining room table. Drew took a seat. Dana went for iced teas. While she was gone, he took a look around the dining room, nothing much to see. A long narrow table under the front window. A dresser on the opposite wall with a few drawers. Drew shifted in his seat like he was going to get up when Dana entered the room.
“Here ya go.” She set down the iced teas.
Drew started to reply but was caught with a sneeze. “Achoo!”
“Bless you.” Dana said.
“Thanks.” He replied as he covered his face with one hand and pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket.
At the sight of the red cloth, Dana froze in the middle of sitting down. “A red handkerchief?”
Drew looked up, then furrowed his brow. “Shit.”
“You were at the funeral?” She asked, a look of disbelief.
“Dana, let me explain.” He said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“I wanted to but…”
Before he could finish, a hard knock came from the front door. Dana put a finger up and walked to check. Looking through the narrow glass, she saw Mickey on the front porch.
“What do you want?” She yelled through the front door.
“Look I’m sorry about earlier. But I found out some information about your new neighbor that you need to know.”
She opened the door. “What?”
“He ain’t who he says he is.” Mickey replied.
***
Standing in the open door, Dana looked at Mickey doubtfully. “What are you talking about?”
“You were goin on and on about him while I was here. How he offered to help with repairs. How he conveniently needed graphic design service. Seemed too … familiar to me. Like he knew what you liked or needed. All I had to do was run his plates.” Mickey handed her a sheet of paper.
Drew stood but didn’t move further while she looked it over. Turning to him with an incredulous look she said, “Drew?”
“Dana, I…”
“Fat Andrew? From high school?”
Andrew stopped and hung his head. “Yes.”
“No wonder I didn’t recognize you.” She paused a second to let the surprise pass, then a look of anger distorted her face. “Get out. Now.” Dana yelled.
“Please, let me explain.”
“More lies? No thanks.”
She stepped back as Andrew gathered his file and walked to the door. “Both of you are freaking despicable. I never want to see either of you again!” She slammed the door. From outside, her footsteps could be heard walking towards the back of the house.
The two men were left standing on the porch, facing each other.
Andrew looked Mickey dead in the eye. Neither one moved for a good minute.
Mickey shifted his hand to the hilt of his gun. “Get off this porch or I’ll arrest you for trespassing.”
Mickey stepped back, looked him up and down, lip curled in disgust as he turned and walked away.
***
Dana stomped into the kitchen, furious. “My husband has barely been dead a month and already every creepy asshole within a five mile radius is closing in on me.” She held back a sob then busied herself with the few dishes in the sink. Cleaning had a peaceful rhythm. While she did so, Dana imagined her husband in the yard, working up a sweat. She would have a cold beer ready for him but refuse to hug him until he showered. He would insist, hugging her, all sweaty and dirty. They usually wound up in the shower together.
Dana tossed the dishtowel across the counter and went back to the dining room table. She began organizing her papers when she saw a yellow manilla envelope stuffed under them with ‘Dana’ written in sharpie on the front.
She sat, opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper and a postmarked letter. It was addressed to Andrew across the street. A P.O. Box return address, under the name Drew.
She read the letter first.
Dana,
I typed this up in case an emergency arose and I couldn’t explain. Please hear me out. I’ve been acting on your husbands wishes. His dying wish in fact.
You are in danger. Please do not trust Mickey. Inside this postmarked envelope you’ll find text transcripts between me and your husband shortly before he passed. Mickey was blackmailing him. Things got really bad overseas and your husband lied to cover up a crime for him. Mickey had raped and abused a prostitute. Your husband had provided an alibi. He never explained why but Mickey had proof and a plan to blackmail him. He has become distorted into a psychopath and a predator.
Mickey is after you. He is obsessed with you. He wants you for himself.
To get your husband out of the way, Mickey told him that he would inject his IV with a cocktail that would kill him. The death would be blamed on complications from the cancer. But unknown to Mickey, your husband was going to die anyway. He had gotten a call from the doctor the week before. The last round of chemo hadn’t worked. His condition had become terminal. He was trying to find the words to tell you, then Mickey came forward with his threat. If he revealed your husband’s lie about the alibi, you would lose benefits and medical care.
Your husband reached out to me. Told me what was happening. We had remained friends while he was overseas. He missed you every minute. It was his wish that if he was going to die, he would need to take Mickey down with him. He agreed to Mickey’s plan and recorded it on his phone. He was supposed to send the video to me but it didn’t come through.
I only wanted to get close enough to find his cell phone and turn over the evidence to an FBI agent I know. We weren’t sure who in the local police force is corrupt so we couldn’t involve them. We hid this from you because we wanted to keep you out of harm’s way until Mickey was arrested. We just didn’t know who to trust.
Your husband must have hidden his cell phone somewhere before he passed. Find it. When you do, come get me and we’ll go straight to the FBI.
Your friend always, Fat Andrew
***
Dana sat back in shock. She had packed away his personal belongings and had the hospital bed taken away along with all the medical equipment.
She tried to think back. It had all been a blur. What had she done with his cell phone? The battery was probably dead by now, so calling it would be useless. She headed to the spare bedroom where boxes of his things had been stacked. She spent the next couple of hours going through them only to come up empty handed.
She walked to a window and leaned her head to the side to stretch her neck. There was something missing from his belongings. Something he had treasured those last few weeks, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. As she stared out into the woods behind their home, she remembered that he had come back from overseas with a new habit. Reading. He had explained that he’d discovered his love for it while on active duty. He preferred the feel of a book in his hands over the ebooks and so had built a small collection, gifts from fellow soldiers mostly, and brought them back.
She hustled to the main room where his bed had been located, near a small bookshelf that now stood against the wall. She scanned them, looking for one book he had seemed to be partial to. She found it, slightly out of place from the others. “The Portable Faulkner.” She had always wondered about his newfound interest in mid 20th century literature but didn’t question it. She pulled the book from the shelf and felt a weight shift inside of it. Opening the book, she found that the middle pages inside had been cut out to form a compartment. Inside was his cell phone.
***
Dana found a charger and waited patiently as the phone booted up. Thankfully she still remembered his passcode and went straight to his video library. She saw the one dated on the day of his death. She tapped it and watched as her husband situated the phone. The lens was partially covered. It looked like to her he had hidden it on the bookshelf under a hand towel. But the image was clear. A moment later, Mickey came in through the front door and approached the bed.
“We don’t have much time.” Mickey said.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Denny said.
“You were always the star. I was your number two. You got Dana the prom queen. I got Pam the dirty slut.”
“All this time you resented me.” Denny said.
“Not just that. I always wanted to see you fall.” Mickey sneered.
“Is that why you raped that woman over there, so you could drag me down?”
“Oh I almost killed her for you. But I stopped short because I couldn’t figure a good way to get rid of the body.” Mickey laughed a dirty chuckle.
“I vouched for you. Now you’re blackmailing me to agree to my own murder.”
“No. Not just that. I’m gonna take your girl too.” With that, he stuck the needle in the tube and pressed the plunger, emptying it.
Denny’s eyes widened. “Stay away from Dana. That’s the deal.”
“You’re a dead man. There is no deal.” Mickey let out another dirty chuckle before turning to leave. On the way out, he paused at an armoire that sat in the hall between the bed and the door. He reached up to the top, then left without looking back.
A couple minutes after the door closed, Dana saw her husband reach for his phone and look into it. “He put something on top of the armoire. Find it. I love you Dana. Goodbye.” With that, the screen went dark.
Dana stood, stunned. Andrew had been here all along to protect her. The realization washed over her, spurring her into action. She ran to the utility room and grabbed a folding step ladder. She set it next to the armoire, climbed up and reached over, running her hand along the dusty top until she found it. She grabbed it and brought it down to see that it was a wireless surveillance camera.
She grabbed her purse, put his cell phone and the camera inside, then headed for the front door. She paused and turned to look at the dresser near the dining room table.
I need one more thing.
***
Dana looked out her window and saw that Andrew’s truck was in the driveway across the street. She flung open the door then slammed it behind her. Without bothering to lock up she walked quickly towards the road holding the purse firmly over her shoulder. When she reached the road, another tan truck that had been parked a couple houses down roared to life.
On instinct, she began to run across the road rather than retreat. The truck screeched to a halt behind her just as she got across. Mickey jumped out, gun drawn. “Stop Dana, I don’t want to have to shoot you.”
Her forward momentum carried her towards the only cover there was, the trunk of the large tree in Andrew’s front yard. She stepped in behind it just as Mickey got off a round. Dana instinctively put an arm up at the sound. Just as she did, Andrew burst out his front door with a pump shotgun. He put a round into the bed of Mickey’s truck, causing him to step in behind the tree on the opposite side.
“Throw the camera and the phone out into the road. I don’t want to hurt you Dana.” Mickey yelled. The stink of the exhaust from the idling truck began to fill the air.
“Coulda fooled me you sick fuck!” Dana slid her hand into her purse, fishing around for it.
Andrew stepped down from the porch heading towards Dana. She pulled a .38 snub nose from her purse and flashed it. Andrew looked down and understood. He started to cut to his right, shotgun aimed so he could take his shot as soon as Mickey came into sight. He caught a glimpse of him, and fired too early, hitting the tree and the truck again. Mickey came around and caught Andrew in the middle of the pump action with a quick but accurate shot. As Andrew fell, Mickey walked towards him intending to put another shot in him.
Dana came into view in his peripheral vision just as she thumbed the hammer back and squeezed the trigger. The shot caught him in the ribs. She kept going as he swung around, two more in the chest. He managed to get a wild shot off into the air before she put two more into him. He crumpled to his knees, the gun falling away from his hand as he clutched his chest. He looked up at her in disbelief. Dana got close enough to put the last shot into his face but hesitated while she watched him fall to the side and squirm wordlessly, mouth opening and closing, gasping for air.
Instead she kicked his gun away from him. And watched while he drew his last breath.
“Dana.” Her head snapped up and she saw Andrew reaching for her. She moved to go towards him but thought better and pulled out her phone to dial 911.