Chapter Thirteen – Molly

 

“Stop crying,” I whispered to myself in the empty kitchen, my words almost slurred from the tears that I couldn’t seem to stop. He’d walked right out, left me here to just sit on my hands, to worry all alone.

I stared down at my phone. At the nines and the ones I’d typed out, but couldn’t bring myself to dial, even now. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, sighing a deep sigh.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, shaking my head at my state of affairs.

“You’re sitting here crying like a little baby who can’t get what she wants, that’s what the hell you’re doing. You trust Luke, right? You trusted him when you first met him, and you still trust him to bring your friend home, don’t you? So why not trust him on this? He’s a professional, after all.”

Sniffling, I brushed my hair back behind my ears and nodded at my phone. That’s what I needed to do. I just needed to trust him. Even if I didn’t completely agree with his decision, I could see the logic. But, damn, it sucked to be left on the sidelines like this.

And, of course, I might have just shot myself in the foot with him.

Oh, whom was I kidding? I had never had a chance with him in the first place. Not with my wreck of a life.

My mind drifted to the present Luke had been looking for. To how desperate he’d seemed to be to find it, like it was the key that was going to unlock the mystery of where Heidi was. I ran my hand back through my hair, still staring at my phone in front of me. At the emergency number glaring right back at me.

I reached down, turned off the phone’s display, and pushed the little device away from me. I rested my chin on the heel of my hand, staring out the window at the side of the neighbor’s house.

Maybe there was something here, and we just hadn’t looked in the right place?

But where would Heidi have kept it, if not in her office, or her bedroom?

I shifted, staring into the living room, my eyes losing focus as I thought about where Heidi would have put something important. Or, alternatively, not important in any way. Could she have just thrown it away? I frowned at the idea, thinking that it did oddly sound like a Heidi thing to do.

“No,” I said, after I’d mentally run down my checklist of crazy things Heidi might have done, “what you need to do is relax a little. Chill out.”

Not going to lie, one of the best parts of living with Heidi was the pool, and the big privacy fence surrounding the backyard. Whenever the stress of the modern world got to be too much to handle, it’s where I’d retreat to. Just lay out for a while, do a little sun worship, maybe swim a few laps.

Swimming, though, while my best friend was missing? I bit my thumb’s cuticle, a frown still plastered on my face, my brow so furrowed I was on the brink of giving myself a headache. God, what else was I going to do? Sit here and stare at my phone, or stare off into space? Crawl into a bottle of wine? Nothing I could do was going to help Heidi.

I shook my head. No, I needed to get some fresh air. Some sun.

I got up from the kitchen, went back into my room, and pulled out my bathing suit, a blue one-piece. I stripped out of my clothes, changed into the swimsuit, and found my sun block. Minutes later, I was covered in SPF50 and grabbing an oversized beach towel from the hall closet, my brain still spinning around everything.

I stopped on the patio, a little structure floored with Pavestone, and a roof held up by two solid, unmarred wooden beams. I looked past the patio furniture and small metal fire pit, out to the rest of the backyard, shining beneath the Arizona sun. The only spot of shade back here was beneath the porch’s roof, and the whole world seemed to be yellows, blues, and deep greens.

Heidi’s backyard was like most yards in a desert: succulent and rock chic. Here, water efficiency was the new black. Cacti, rocks, and other arid climate plants sprawled around the small pool. She paid some pool service to come by, and it shone like a jewel in the middle of a tan field, perfect and inviting. Really, though, I think it was so she could drool over the pool boy they sent to perform all the maintenance. Not that she’d do anything with him, of course.

After all, he was just a pool boy. He couldn’t afford her hourly rate.

An image of Luke, shirtless, cleaning the pool came to mind. I didn’t even bother suppressing the small smile as my sandals slapped the porch’s Pavestone floor on the way out to the pool. I tossed my towel on one of the reclining chaise lounges sitting there beside the pool and quickly kicked off my sandals. I put my phone down on top of the towel and turned to the pool.

I hotfooted it to the edge of the pool, my toes curling down over the rounded edge. Hands above my head, I prepared to dive in. I crouched down a little, trying to keep my form proper. I bent my knees, pointed forward with my hands.

And then I stopped.

The hair on the back of my arms and neck stood on end for a moment, and a shivering chill went through my body despite the sun bearing down on the backyard, a sense of unease falling over me for less than a second.

It almost felt like I was being watched. Like there was something just on the outskirts of my vision, somehow hiding in the peripheral. The kind of thing you saw when you didn’t get enough sleep, and the effects of the deprivation were getting to you.

I straightened up a little, looking around the small backyard.

Nothing. Just the shadows from the fence and small cacti slowly lengthening as the sun moved across the vault of the heavens, their dark fingers stretching farther and farther. Beyond the seven-foot privacy fence, the world swirled on, and Luke Oldham continued his search for my best friend.

And all I could do was wait.

“You’re just being paranoid,” I whispered as I put myself back into form. “You’re fine. Heidi’s the one who’s in danger. Stop trying to put yourself at the center of this.”

Before that unease could return, I was diving into the warm water, the liquid slipping around and enveloping me like a parent’s embrace. Buoyancy, weightlessness, as I gently kicked myself forward, then returned to the surface. I broke through to the air again at the other end of the pool, opening my eyes as the sun’s rays caressed my skin and welcomed me back. I ran my hand back over my face and hair, sloughing the water from my dark mane as I stood in the shallow end, my back to the porch. The chlorine stung my eyes a little, and I had to squint my eyes against the brightness of the day.

Behind me, near the house, rocks shifted in the “lawn,” with pebbles falling against one another.

Another shiver passed through my body, and I abruptly turned around, the water splashing around my waist and sloshing against the sides of the pool.

Nothing. No more movement. No more sound. Just a car honking, far beyond the domain of Heidi’s HOA.

But, wait. What was that?

Something in the shadows of the porch seemed to move. Like a childhood memory you can only hold onto for a moment, it dissipated.

I wiped another hand across my pool-drenched eyes, cleared more of the water. I leaned forward at the waist, narrowing my eyes as I struggled to see into the darkness nearer the back door.

Nothing. Nothing, like I’d thought before.

No. No, there was something.

“Oh shit,” I said, stumbling back a little in the water as I watched the actual shadows move, as the darkness beneath the patio’s roof seemed to coalesce, to blend together till it darkened to a shape as black as night. My mouth dropped open, my vision began to narrow, and my heart leapt into my throat. When I spoke, it came out as a breathless croak.

“God, oh my God! What the hell are you?”