“Where’s Stephen and Cristina?”
“They decided not to wait and headed back.” Luys shrugged one shoulder. “Something about some show Cristina wanted to watch.”
Avery’s lips firmed, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t know if Cristina was trying to fix them up or not, but she did know she didn’t want to go home alone with Luys. She didn’t feel entirely safe with him but walking back to her place by herself in the dark didn’t sound much better.
She must have revealed her trepidation—not for the correct reason—because he rose and said, “I’ll make sure you’re completely safe.”
“Black belt?” she teased, trying to shrug off her uncertainty. Why get her to the doctor if Luys wanted to hurt her. It was too much of a contradiction, and her paranoia was seeing suspects when there weren’t any.
“No,” he returned, his face serious, his gaze solemn, “but I can defend myself.”
She nodded sharply at his calm confidence. His thick biceps, broad shoulders, and athletic body backed up his words. She suspected he’d be the victor in hand-to-hand combat involving any wicked-looking knives as she led the way out of the bar and then into the restaurant. The night air clung to her body in a hot blanket. Even with the setting of the sun, the temp didn’t feel cooler.
During the walk back, he matched his much larger step to her own. If nothing else, he was considerate, even sensitive to her needs. Nothing annoyed her more than having someone walk ahead of her. The last boyfriend... Well, that was a good two years ago, and he wasn’t much to remember... A three-month stint, and she’d had enough. Better alone than having to deal with an inflated ego and self-centered view on everything.
When they reached the complex, the police cruisers had disappeared, but when they walked down the sidewalk toward the north wall of the building and the front of her condo, she glanced down the pathway that led to the opposite side of her property and caught sight of yellow tape draped across one of the doorways.
She winced. “I feel bad that I don’t feel anything for him.”
“You didn’t know him.”
“True. But still, I feel like I should.”
“It’s a lot to take in.” Luys followed her to her door. “Just be careful.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I’m sure you can...” He stood over her, a good six inches over the top of her head. “You’ve got my number in case you need help. I’m minutes away.”
She’d never thought of herself as tiny, but somehow he made her feel dainty, which was crazy. She looked up. Shadows clung below his eyebrows, effectively obscuring his thoughts, but she sensed his concern, his tension.
Her heart twisted. It had been a long time since anyone had shown genuine concern for her without wanting sex or a favor of some type in return, but with Luys, she hadn't yet been able to figure out what his motivation was other than kindness.
To have someone care...
She shivered, mentally shaking off feelings of wanting him to be more than her neighbor.
He hesitated by her door, and she stood for a moment looking up into his face, and before either of them did something stupid, Avery backed up and started to turn but stopped when she caught sight of a man standing twenty yards away and beneath a lamppost. As the man shifted, the light from above thrust him into view. The police detective from the hospital. It had to be.
But why was he still hanging around when everyone else had left the crime scene?
For a moment, they stared at each other across the gravel yard. Then his heel scraped against a rock as he turned and disappeared around an adjacent building.
Luys turned to where she had been looking, but the detective had already disappeared.
Before he had time to question her, Avery said in a whisper, “Goodnight.”
Then she stepped inside her condo, determined not to look over her shoulder at his reaction, and firmly locked the door.
~~*~~
I hate this need to stand in line for food. I feel like a cow herded in one direction toward a feeding trough. But I need nourishment. My head is pounding from lack of water and food. I have been too preoccupied with other matters.
In front of me, a man and child wait in line to check out their food. They have the same dark hair, the same warm skin tone. Father and daughter. The girl, no more than three stone, with wavy brown hair past the shoulders, carries a sack of potatoes. She shifts, struggling with holding the heavy weight in her arms as it inches downward. The bag thuds to the ground.
“Pick it up!”
She looks up at the man, her eyes large, her gaze uneasy.
“I said pick it up,” he snarls.
My lip curls at one side. He is but a predator feeding on the weak.
Hunching over, she picks up the potatoes, hugs the bag to her chest, and shifts beneath the burden.
“Be more careful,” the man rebukes, slapping his hand against the back of the girl’s head, sending wisps of chocolate hair flying into the air.
My eyes narrow as anger bubbles through my insides. A tyrant belittling smaller fragile children. I have seen too many not to recognize the type. The hardness in their eyes, the arrogance in their swagger.
The female cashier checking the man and girl out seems agitated at the man’s behavior, but she says nothing. Her silence condones his behavior. I am no better by staying silent.
Once through the line, the father picks up a grocery bag filled with items and makes the girl carry the potatoes.
With the girl in the lead, the duo moves toward the glass door exit, and in a harsh voice, the man growls, “Move faster.”
Still struggling with the weight of the potatoes, she quickens her pace. Two more steps, she stumbles but rights herself, but she is not fast enough.
The father shoves a knee to her back, forcing her forward. She lands on all fours, the potatoes landing to her side. “Damn stupid girl! You can’t even walk right.”
He grabs the bag and exits the store, not looking to see if the girl follows. Scrambling to her feet, she races through the doors and after her father. Then they disappear around the side of the building.
I follow them to their home. They don’t know they are being watched because I am careful. I am always careful.
I expect a rundown apartment on the worst side of the city, where addicts litter the ground like dead leaves. I find instead a ranch-style house comprising of manicured hedges, trimmed bougainvillea, and a yard and driveway without a hint of a weed. My lips curl into a sneer. He takes care of the house more than he does his child.
A woman appears from the front door. The mother. Her hair has the same texture and color as the girl's. They both have the same fragile frame. From where I stand, I can see the bruising below her eye, the marks on her arms. Another victim of his wrath. But it’s not these signs that give away her true trauma. It is the look in her expression, the emptiness in her eyes.
She looks like you. She’s given up.
I have not given up!
You lie to yourself.
No.
I try to shake off the voice. It’s seductive, knowing.
I force myself to focus on the woman and how she shuffles across the yard, so similar to how the girl walked in the food store. But would the woman look like this if he were no longer there terrorizing her? And the child? What of her? She is powerless, a vessel to his perversion.
I think to my daughter, and fury roils through me. I have always welcomed the rage. It blocks out the pain, the hurt, the loneliness.
Kill him. Kill him now. He deserves it.
I press my hands to my ears. I take in deep breaths. No. Now is not the time to cave into the voices.
Do it. He is worthless. Just as worthless as you.
Are you too afraid? I thought you were powerful. I thought you were smarter than everyone.
No one will find out.
No.
The urge to kill overwhelms me. I back away before I act on the need. There are witnesses. I cannot terrorize the child with a bloodbath.
Now is not the time.
I leave but come back later that evening, then again, and again. I wait, I watch, biding my time for an opportunity. Because there is always an opportunity.
Friday, August 22nd – 8:12 am
The next morning, another day without work—her boss firmly rebuked any mention of her working for the week and insisted she start fresh on Monday—Avery called the precinct with the number on the card Detective Hatcher had given her. When the receptionist answered then transferred her call to his desk, Avery left another message.
Grunting, she hung up. By lunch, with the television having lost all her interest and the four walls closing in on her, she decided to go out, shop, see a movie, do anything but stay inside her four walls. She needed to get OUT, no matter how short. After a quick shower, while avoiding any mirrors in the bathroom and bedroom, she dressed in shorts, a tank top, and slide-on sandals before slipping outside. The last time she’d looked at her reflection, she’d seen the same two scars, both appearing as if she’d had surgery as a child, not days ago. She also didn’t like how they resembled a cross in the middle of her chest.
She’d canceled her follow-up appointment with her doctor for two reasons: she didn’t need her wounds checked because they’d clearly healed, and she didn’t want to deal with questions as to why—she didn’t know the answer.
Once outside and seeing no one liable to jump her, she let her pent-up tension ease fractionally. She hadn’t been able to relax for what seemed like forever. The sun had shifted to the west, limiting shadows, and the heat was at its most oppressive as she hurried to her car. Every night she’d listen to sounds by her windows and the front door. A can of pepper spray by her bed was her only form of protection. A knife was out of the question. The chances of an attacker using it on her rather than the other way around were more likely her luck. While a gun... she’d probably shoot herself with no training.
“Hey, Avery!”
She stiffened and turned to find a man striding toward her. She stuck her hand in her purse for her pepper spray but eased her grip and slipped her hand back out when she recognized the younger detective from the hospital and the one she’d seen only last night. He didn’t have his work clothes on today but wore a pair of workout shorts and a muscle shirt.
“Hey, sorry.” He stopped a couple of feet in front of her on the sidewalk. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
“That’s okay.” She wondered what he was doing here dressed as he was. “Did you need to ask me any more questions…? Sorry, I don’t know your full name.”
“It’s Ben, Ben Atkins. And I’m not here for an official visit.” He cocked his head to the side and nodded in the area behind him. “I live two buildings behind me.”
The idea of a police detective nearby made her feel somewhat safer. “Actually, I’m glad we bumped into each other. Maybe you can help. I left a message at the station. No one’s called me back. Is there a reason?” She searched his face. The lines fanning out from his eyes, the few strands of gray at his temples she hadn’t noticed until now. She’d thought him younger. Maybe the drugs she’d had at the hospital had left her brain foggy, but today she realized he was edging near forty rather than topping his twenties. She hadn’t gotten his looks wrong. He was an attractive man with a sensual mouth, a smooth, angular nose, white, even teeth, and a smile that lit his brown eyes with flecks of gold. His close-cropped hair added to his masculinity.
His mouth dipped as he fanned the top of an oleander bush beside the walkway with his palm, scattering loose pink petals to the ground before he dropped his hand to his side. “No, other than we’ve been swamped. I apologize for us not getting back to you.”
Her lips firmed. It had been over 48 hours since she’d left her first message with Hatcher. A simple call would have been nice even if they’d told her they didn’t have any news.
“This recent murder has us working long hours.”
At his words, Avery felt a little ashamed of herself for not thinking of the victim. At least she’d survived her attack. Her neighbor hadn’t been so lucky.
She then noticed dark half-moons beneath his eyes. “Have you found the killer or any suspects? I heard the person was stabbed in the chest, and someone told me they were missing some type of body part. Is it in any way related to me? I think I deserve some answers.”
“We haven’t made any arrests, and I can’t divulge more than that, I’m afraid.”
“Are you sure? It would be nice to know what’s going on, especially because of what happened to me. There must be a tie you’re unwilling to tell me about.” It was impossible to keep the frustration from her voice, and frankly, she didn’t care if he heard it.
“Like I said, I can’t get into the details.”
“Okay, I understand you don’t want to cross any lines when it comes to ethics.” But secretly and selfishly, she kind of didn’t. Answers, even small, would be better than not knowing a thing. She thought it only right that the people in the complex should have more answers than the general public. After all, they didn’t know if the murder was a random act or something more personal.
“Sorry. But all I can say is to be always aware of your surroundings and the people around you.” He opened his mouth, frowned, and then closed it as he hooked a thumb over his jeans belt loop.
“What?” She waited. It was clear he wanted to say something.
After a long pause, he finally said, “I saw you talking last night with one of the neighbors.”
“That’s right. And...?”
He rocked back on his heels. “Are the two of you close?”
She didn’t know what he was getting at and didn’t like how he avoided her question with one of his own, and she also didn’t know if he was asking questions because it was personal or job-related. She decided to be honest, though. “No. He’s helped me out a couple of times. As you know, he’s the one who drove me to the hospital after my attack.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.” The detective’s lip twisted into a sneer. “I’d steer clear of him.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just that.”
“Come on. You’ve got to give me a reason.”
“He’s like everyone else here at the complex. A suspect.”
Avery lifted her chin and searched his face again. She couldn’t read beyond the kindness in his eyes.
“Are you saying he’s a suspect?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”
“But?”
“Don’t trust him, okay?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed and admitted, “I know things about him that aren’t good.”
“Well, he’s never given me any sign of being dangerous,” Avery felt compelled to argue since Luys wasn’t here to defend himself.
“Most criminals don’t appear dangerous.” He tossed a set of keys in the air and caught them. “And call me by my name. It’s Ben.”
“Okay, Ben.” She rolled back on her heels.
“If you’re ever worried or feel you need help, I’m in the next building. Condo 298.” The lines by his eyes crinkled into a smile.
The warmth of a flush rose up her neck and into her face. There was definite interest in his brown eyes.
“I’ll see you around. And I’ll talk to Hatcher. He’s the one in charge of the investigation. I’ll make sure he calls you back. He’s awful when it comes to dealing with the public. But still, that’s no excuse to ignore you.”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
He smiled. “I’ll check on you in a couple of days, if that’s okay?”
“Ahh, sure.”
She watched him leave before walking to her car. From behind the wheel, she stared through the windshield and beyond the palo verde trees to the buildings across the street. Slowly, she put the key in the ignition but didn’t turn on the engine.
I’d steer clear of him.
I know things about him that aren’t good…
It was all too mysterious.
Any interest in a movie or shopping evaporated. Never one to ignore a puzzle, Avery jumped out of her car and hurried back to her condo, eying Luys’ front door before slipping inside her place.
She grabbed her tablet from the kitchen table and turned it on. Once she found a pen and paper, she dropped into a kitchen chair at the table and started searching for Luys Martinez. The Martinez part would have been a nightmare if she’d have to search by his surname alone. But Luys. Now Luys had some meat to it.
Ugh.
After five minutes, she didn’t pull up anything on the internet, which was strange. Then she went to various social media sites. Nothing. Okay, so maybe he didn’t like social media. Many people didn’t. But still... It was odd not to be able to find anything on him. Even peculiar.
That didn’t mean nothing existed...
Tapping her fingers on the kitchen table, she stared at the tablet as if it would give her an answer. She scrolled through several pages. Okay. This had to be easier. Those detective shows made it seem so simple.
Think.
Okay, she had his telephone number, his address. That should lead to something. Scrolling through the county database of recent arrests didn’t pull up anything. The entire website was confusing. Maybe she hadn’t gone far back enough...
There had to be something. Why else would Ben Atkins have warned her? It couldn’t have anything to do with him wanting to date her. That would be ridiculous.
There had to be something. She knew she sounded like a broken record, but a person couldn’t completely be invisible. Not today, with social media added to the mix.
Unless he intentionally scrubbed his name from the net. That would probably involve hiring a professional company. That in itself sounded ominous.
Or he was lying about his name...
Maybe Luys Martinez was someone completely different and was living under an alias. But no. That couldn’t be the case because Ben seemed to imply he knew something about Luys’. She was sure he’d had Luys investigated, and if he’d found any outstanding warrants, Ben would have had him arrested.
Someone knocked on the front door.
Avery jumped. She thumped her fist against her chest to quiet the sudden gallop of her heart. Muttering several choice words under her breath, she slipped from the chair and snatched the pepper spray from the end table by the sofa. She’d purchased two on her last outing. On that, she felt like she wasn’t paranoid. Not after what she’d experienced.
Clutching the tube in one hand, she looked through the door’s viewfinder. For a moment, she didn’t see anyone. She wasn’t going to be stupid enough to open it if she couldn’t make them out.
Then Mayor’s white-blond hair and elegant features moved into view, and Avery’s fingers eased around the pepper spray. Sighing in relief, she hid the spray in a drawer by the foyer table before opening the front door and squinting against the glare. Even as the sun’s rays beat down on her face and body, she shivered for some reason.
Mayor smiled. “I thought I’d drop by and chat.”
Avery didn’t move from the doorway. Undeterred, Mayor brushed past and closed the door.