August 24
Someone was calling out Nik’s name, but the sound was far off, like they were at one end of a very long tunnel and he was on the other side. Then the voice moved closer. “Nik.” The word hovered over him and he forced his eyes open. A face, but not Reese’s. It was Sara, Gyp’s dog walker. A hand plunged into the water, grabbed a fistful of hair, and yanked. Nik coughed and sputtered, eyes wide, the size of poker chips. He leaned over the rim of the tub and threw up.
“No, Gyp,” Sara said and pushed the dog away from the vomit and out the bathroom door. “What happened?”
Nik tried to answer, retched, and dropped his head back over the tub. He remained there for several moments and then finally lifted his face to Sara.
“Thank you,” he exhaled.
“Are you going to be all right? Do I need to call medics?”
“No. Give me a minute.”
Sara sat on the bathroom floor and started speaking rapidly while Nik attempted to resuscitate himself. “When I came in, I heard noises and called your name. Someone, a woman, I think, ran out into the hallway and then to the back bedroom. She must have gone down the fire escape. That’s when I found you. I thought you were dead.”
“Any longer and I would have been. That woman you saw run out was Reese. She shot me with a stun gun when I walked into the apartment and then dumped me in the bathtub to drown.”
“Reese? Your neighbor? But why, for God’s sake?”
“Think it has to do with a story I’m working on. Could you hand me a towel?” Nik lifted his chin toward a cabinet.
Sara pulled a towel from the shelves and gave it to Nik. He steadied himself and stood. She averted her eyes and said, “Don’t step in the puke. I’ll wait for you in the living room. And here, I nearly stepped on these.” She handed him his glasses.
Nik dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, emptied the bathtub, placed a floor mat over the vomit, and went in search of Sara and his phone.