Already Gone

– 12 –



I spend the rest of the day finishing off the beer in my refrigerator. It helps with my headache, and for a while I don’t feel too bad. It’s not until I call Nolan and open the missing-persons report that I start thinking about something stronger.

The sun is going down, and the house is turning dark. I toy with the idea of walking down to the campus liquor store and picking up a bottle, but I don’t want to be away from the phone, just in case.

Eventually, things get worse, and I grab my coat from the closet and force myself to leave.

The wind outside is cold and cuts against my skin. I zip my coat tight around my neck as I walk. There are no cars on the street until I get to the university. Then they are everywhere.

I can’t take another step.

I stand on the side of the street, unable to move. My knuckles ache from squeezing my hands so tight. I pull them out of my pockets and massage the pain away, then I cross over to Main Street and cut through someone’s yard, heading north toward Fifth Avenue.

There’s a party in one of the houses up ahead. I see several people standing outside on the porch, shouting and laughing. When I get close, I hear glass shatter, then more laughter.

I keep walking, head down, trying to stay calm.

Fifth Avenue is at the end of the street, and I can see the liquor store on the corner. There’s a crowd out front, students mostly, all smoking and talking, sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against the building.

I don’t look at them as I walk by.

The chances of running into one of my students is slim, but it’s a chance I don’t want to take.

Once inside, things get worse.

The liquor store is tiny and crowded. People move through the lanes in loud groups, talking and laughing and turning the air stale.

I stay focused.

I know exactly where I need to go.

I weave my way through the crowd and grab a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black off the shelf then head to the counter at the front of the store. I get in line behind an older couple and wonder if they feel as out of place as I do.

The line inches forward.

To my right, the front door opens and several girls come inside, followed by an equally excited group of boys.

I reach for my wallet.

The couple in front of me is buying two bottles of red wine. They are both well dressed, and from behind they look respectable enough. I wonder how I must look with my uncombed hair, the dark circles under my eyes, and the yeasty, wet smell of stale beer on my breath.

I decide I don’t care.

The line moves, and the couple in front of me buy their wine. When they turn to leave, I step forward and set the Johnnie Walker bottle on the counter.

“Mr. Reese?”

It’s a woman’s voice, and when I look up, Anne Carlson smiles back at me.

At first I don’t say anything. I haven’t spoken to Anne since she came to my office, and seeing her makes me realize there are worse people to run into than students.

I’m not sure what to say.

Luckily, she speaks first.

“You were behind us this entire time and I didn’t even recognize you.” She turns to the man she’s with and says, “Walter, this is Jake Reese, one of our new instructors.”

Walter holds out his hand and says, “Yes, of course. Nice to meet you, Jake. I read your book.”

I shake his hand and thank him.

“And I knew your father,” he says. “Well, I met him once. I did some work on his case before he passed away.”

The clerk scans the bottle and gives me a price.

I hand him my credit card.

“Walter is an attorney with the city,” Anne says. “We were on our way to a dinner party.” She looks down at the bottle of Johnnie Walker on the counter and fakes a smile. “Big plans tonight?”

I open my mouth to tell her, no, just a typical Wednesday night, but thankfully Walter interrupts before I get a word out.

“I have to say, I don’t know how much of it was true, but it was fascinating to read about your life, and your father’s. He was an interesting man.”

“I suppose he was.”

“What did he do?” Anne puts a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

I shake my head and tell her it’s okay. “He hijacked a truck. The entire thing was caught on a surveillance camera.”

“By himself?”

“There were other people involved, but he was the only one who stepped in front of the camera.”

“That’s bad luck.”

“That’s alcohol,” I say. “They knew where the cameras were mounted. He just got sloppy.”

The clerk puts the bottle in a brown paper bag and hands it to me along with my receipt and a pen.

I sign my name, then walk out with Anne and Walter.

Once outside, I do my best to smile. I tell Walter it was nice meeting him and that I hope they enjoy their dinner party.

As I turn away, Anne stops me.

“Did you walk here, Jake?”

I motion down the street and say, “I’m close.”

“Why don’t you let us give you a ride? It’s getting colder out here by the minute.”

“I don’t mind the walk.”

“Come on,” Walter says. “We insist, really.”

I look down the street in the direction of my house. The cold doesn’t bother me, but the idea of walking down those dark streets tears at me.

I decide to cut my losses.

“Thanks,” I say. “A ride would be great.”

I follow them around the liquor store to the parking lot. On the way, Anne asks about my classes and how the semester is shaping up. I tell her things are moving along, which seems to make her happy.

When we get to the parking lot, Walter presses a button on his keys, and the lights flash on a Mercedes next to us.

“Anne did say you worked for the city, right?”

Walter smiles, doesn’t answer.

Anne sits in front, and I climb in the back. The seats are leather and soft. It’s like sitting on kittens.

Walter asks if I’m comfortable.

I laugh, tell him I’m fine.

He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street. “Where am I going?”

I lean forward. “Take a right up here, then a left about a mile down. I’ll tell you when.”

After a few blocks, Walter looks back at me in the rearview and says, “I hope you don’t mind me saying something, but Anne told me about what happened.” He pauses. “About the attack, and your finger.”

I glance down at my hand. “It’s in the past.”

“That’s good to hear.” He reaches up and pulls a white business card from a clip on his visor and hands it to me over his shoulder. “But take this, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case it’s not,” he says. “You might want someone to talk to if they ever catch the guys, and I’ll be happy to help out in any way I can.”

I start to tell him he’s wasting his time, but instead I pocket the card and remind myself that he’s still my boss’s date, and I need to be nice.

“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.”

“Call anytime. I mean it.”

We don’t say anything else until we get to my street. I tell him where to turn, and as we come around the corner toward my house I say, “Third one from the—”

I stop. No one says a word.

Detective Nolan’s cruiser is sitting in my driveway.

Walter pulls up in front of the house.

“Is everything okay?” Anne asks.

It takes me a moment to find my voice. When I do, I tell her everything is fine, even though I know better.

I grab my bottle off the seat and open the door.

Walter says, “Call me if you need anything.”

I barely hear him.

I close the door then step up onto the sidewalk.

Detective Nolan is sitting on my porch. When he sees me, he gets up and starts across the lawn to where I’m standing.

I don’t move.

Walter pulls away, slow, and I watch them until their red tail-lights disappear around the corner. I watch them because I don’t want to look at Nolan.

I know what’s coming.

The dead leaves on the lawn hiss under his feet as he walks. Then there’s silence, and he’s in front of me.

“Mr. Reese?”

Now I look at him.

I see it in his face, and I’m sure he sees it in mine. I wait for him to say something, and I don’t wait long.

He says, “I’m sorry, Jake.”