In which things become no more clearer, but slightly more interesting
I drove out to the storage unit, suddenly glad it wasn’t in my name. They had no way to track me there, and I could stay there until I figured out my next move. Plus, it would take a little time to find the paperwork I’d stashed. I think it was packed alongside my inflatable dinghy and my collection of stuffed cows, but it could also have been in the box marked ‘surgical instruments and purple stuff’. I couldn’t remember. Every time I move I swear I’m going to do it right, with inventories and box labels so I know what is in each box, but every time I find I’m doing good just to mark with room in the house it should go in. And even that ends up being a crapshoot, because I end up completely rushed and there’s a perfectly craft-implement shaped hole left in my kitchen wares box. And you can’t just leave space in boxes, that’s wasteful. Plus they’re more prone to collapse, and I didn’t want a repeat of the golden peen statue fiasco from when we moved my friend Mark.
Still musing about where I might have packed those documents, who I might be able to trust, and what my next move was going to be, I was caught completely off-guard when I drove around the corner and saw the door to my storage unit – okay, sorry, Jake’s storage unit – open. A man in jeans and a black t-shirt stepped out into the light of my headlights, and I almost collapsed in relief when I saw it was Jake. I put the car in park and slowly got out, bracing myself for the grief I was going to get over this.
“This is all your crap, I presume?” He got right to the point, I’ll give him that. He stood in front of the unit, arms crossed, feet spread, blocking my path.
“Well, yes, you see, it was only going to be for a short time, because I had to be out of my apartment before I could move into my house.” I faced him, hands on hips, trying to look as fierce as a four-foot-eleven, 95-pound weakling can. He stared back, saying nothing. I cleared my throat. “I… you… see, I thought I’d have it out before you ever knew, and…” I trailed off. It sounded weak and pathetic, even to my ears.
“And that makes it all right? For you to be in my personal space?” Damn him, he was right. I’d known it all along, but I’d been… no, I hadn’t been desperate. I could easily have rented my own storage unit. So why hadn’t I? I could even have rented it under another name, if I wanted to use that as my excuse. But I hadn’t. “Sandra, look…”
“Sandra’s dead,” I said. I wasn’t sure why it came out, but I had to confide in someone, and if you couldn’t confide in your ex, who could you trust? “I’m Elizabeth now, my long-lost cousin.”
He stared at me for a moment. “I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing at, Sandra, but it’s not funny, and it’s not going to get you out of trouble for this.”
“I’m not trying to get out of trouble, I know what I did was completely wrong. Don’t look so surprised, I can admit when I’m wrong. I just… this has been hard on me, you know?”
“Yes, I know, and… I’m not sorry, but, you know… I am.” His posture relaxed slightly, and I could feel the tension in the air dissipating. Slightly.
“I know. But look, I need to talk to you about something serious, and I need to trust you. You might be the only person I can right now.” I motioned towards the door of the storage unit, where my couch sat at a jaunty angle just inside. He turned around and walked over to the couch, sinking into its plush depths with a sigh.
“Is this about your death?” His tone was caustic and more than a little sarcastic, but I pushed aside the bristle of irritation.
“Yes, yes it is.” As I told him about the events of the evening, his harsh expression softened and he almost looked sympathetic. Almost.
“So what are you going to do? You can’t be serious about just letting everyone think you’re dead.”
“Not everyone, no, obviously I’ve already told you and I’d probably let Heather know. But there’s no one else really important.” I shrugged. “And this does give me the ability to start my life over.”
“Not exactly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. I stared at the stubble already growing there. Damn, he was good looking. I felt a pang again and wished for the hundredth time things had gone differently for us.
“How so?” I stifled a yawn and slumped over on the couch, curling up against the armrest.
“Because they found a body in your house. Unless you can explain that.” He looked at me pointedly.
“What, like I’m a mass murderer and I always have a body stashed in the house? Right, that’s the explanation.” I rolled my eyes at him, but in the darkness the gesture was lost on him.
“No, I meant like if there was someone living with you.”
My face flushed. I couldn’t blame him for that little dig, but still. “No, there was no one living with me,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, so how do you explain the body? Obviously, someone wants some other people to think you’re dead. So that someone knows you’re really not dead.”
“Unless it was some punk who was a budding arsonist, setting fire to my house and getting caught up in the blaze,” I suggested.
“An arsonist who just happens to be about your height, weight, and age? You know they are going to check out dental records, too, since there’s no one to really identify the body. I believe in coincidences, but only to a point.”
He was right, of course, and I knew it. It was too big a coincidence, and it would be too big a conspiracy to get the number of people involved to pass off a body as mine if it was nothing like it. I wondered what they would do about the dental records, though. The easiest thing would be to swap mine with the deceased person’s. Had it already been done? Suddenly I was wide awake.
“Look, I’m really sorry about the storage unit. I’ll rent one tomorrow, and move my stuff out, okay? But can I please, please, please leave it for tonight?”
He looked at me for a long moment, then leaned forward. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, and my heart skipped a beat. But he just pointed a finger at me and said, “One more night.” Then he gently touched the tip of my nose, got up, and walked off towards his car. I sat there for a moment, but I didn’t have time to sort through my feelings or what his actions might have meant. I dragged myself up off the couch, closed and locked the storage unit, and went off to try to catch my only link to this whole mystery.
I parked across the street from my dentist’s office, suddenly glad it was part of an unattractive strip mall and only had one entrance. I could easily keep an eye on the place all on my own. I hunkered down in my car, shivering slightly as the cool night air wafted in through the partially open window. At least being cold might help keep me awake.
It was boring, sitting there watching the front of the darkened strip mall, and I had a whole new respect for officers who sat out on stakeouts. The crushing boredom could easily lead you to miss something important. I could only turn over the situation in my head so many times, and come to the same depressing conclusions, so finally I settled for composing dirty limericks in my head. I was puzzling over a fitting rhyme for ‘mongoose’ when I saw the shadow slinking around the corner and down the front of the shops. Whoever it was, they were good, slipping between shadows quickly so that only someone really watching would have noticed.
I strained my eyes, trying to make out anything about the figure, but it was too dark. I weighed my options – stay here and hope I could catch a glimpse of their face at some point, get in position to follow them to their car, or go in after them. The first was too safe, and likely to fail. The second was a good plan. The third was just foolhardy, so of course I went with that. I waited until the figure had slipped into the office and jumped out of my car, sprinting across the street. They’d left the office door unlocked, and I slipped inside. It took a moment for me to get my bearings in the darkened room, but as soon as I did I made my way to the records room. There was no one there. Except, of course, for the person who grabbed me from behind.
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