Already Gone - By John Rector Page 0,49

promise to Doug.

I try to ignore it, but I can’t.

When I pay for the gas, I get change for the phone.

“Christ, Jake, the police have been here all day.”

“What did you tell them?”

“What could I tell them? I don’t know anything.”

“You know where I am.”

Doug breathes into the phone. “Must’ve slipped my mind when they asked.”

I smile.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to explain this one to Anne,” he says. “Not sure I’d even know how.”

“I understand.” I pause, then add, “You know I didn’t kill anyone, right?”

“Of course you didn’t. The entire thing is ridiculous, but Anne doesn’t see it that way. If I look at it from her side, I don’t blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s got the university to think about, and this is the wrong kind of press. This kind of thing doesn’t help convince parents to send their kids to the school.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not coming back.”

Doug pauses. “Where will you go?”

I lie and tell him I haven’t decided, but my voice sounds strange, even to me. I think Doug notices, because he doesn’t say anything right away.

When he does speak, he doesn’t press.

He wishes me luck.

“I’ll take it,” I say. “All I can get.”

I hang up the phone and walk back to my car. The sun is starting to set in the west, and the red cliffs reflect the low evening light and burn like embers against the sky.

I stand out there for a long time, watching.

– 31 –

I pull into the hotel parking lot, exhausted. I look at my watch. It’s past seven, which means I have less than three hours before I meet Lisa.

Right now, all I want to do is lie down.

There are several cars in the lot that weren’t there when I left, but I remind myself that it is a hotel, and most guests won’t show up until later in the day.

It makes me feel better, but there’s an uneasy buzz building at the base of my neck that I can’t ignore.

As I cross the parking lot I hear the river in the distance, and the occasional car passing along the street. When I get close to the building, I notice a man standing alone on the second floor a few rooms down from mine. He’s leaning over the railing, smoking a cigarette, watching me.

I walk to the stairs, telling myself I’m being paranoid, that he’s just another guest. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it gives me the strength to keep moving.

When I get to the top of the stairs, the man at the railing turns and looks at me.

“Evening,” he says.

I nod and pretend to search my pockets for my key.

I walk by him, then look back to see if he’s following. He’s not.

I don’t see the other man until I get to my door.

He’s standing at the far end of the walkway, hidden in shadows. I can’t tell if he’s watching me or not, but it doesn’t matter. He’s there, and that’s all I need to know.

The buzz at the base of my neck starts to feel like an electric shock. I consider turning around and going back down the stairs to my car, but then I see the man with the cigarette staring at me.

My only option is to get into my room. If I can do that, I can buy some time to think.

I take the plastic key from my pocket and slide it into the lock. The light flashes to green, then red.

The door doesn’t unlock.

The man at the far end of the walkway steps out of the shadow and starts toward me. I look over at the man by the railing. He takes a long drag off his cigarette then flicks it, end over end, into the parking lot.

I try the key again.

This time the light changes to green and I hear the lock click. I push the door open and go inside.

There is a man sitting at the table against the wall, facing the front door. He is older, wearing a dark suit with a blue tie. He doesn’t speak, and he doesn’t stand.

One of the men from outside comes up behind me. He steps into the room and closes the door.

I look at him and say, “What the hell is this?”

He doesn’t answer, so I turn to the man at the table. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

The man watches me for a moment, then reaches down and takes a briefcase from the floor. He sets