Deadly Deception

Chapter 10



Anne tucked herself into the plush olive sofa, wrapping her body in a fatigued ball. Her eyes blinked heavily and wearily. The background noise of the television played in the distance as she drew closer to the dream realm. With all the madness circulating through her mind, the dreams quickly became nightmares.

Adam stood before her; his face distorted in rage, his shirt soaked with blood. He stepped closer to her and then pointed to his right. There laid Carter, dead, covered in blood. She screamed but nothing left her mouth and then Adam came toward her, placing his hands over her throat, choking every bit of oxygen out of her.

Anne threw herself up as she was coughing, gasping for air. She clutched her throat and looked around the dim room. Shadows swayed along the walls from the vivid glow of the television. Anne stood up and made her way to the kitchen to get a drink of water in hopes to recover a steady breathing pattern. Gulping down half a bottle of water, she inhaled deeply a few more times, gathering her composure. Almost hoping that Carter was lurking around, she peered out of the kitchen window but saw nothing except a couple walking toward the building, laughing, holding onto one another.

Early evening was setting in and the five o’clock news was starting. Anne placed her water on the table beside her and turned up the volume on the television. On the bottom of the screen it read BREAKING NEWS; a petite brunette news anchor was standing outside a two-story brick home that had been roped off by yellow police tape.

“Police say that thirty-three-year-old Sam Goodman was gunned down outside his Woodbury home shortly after four o’clock this afternoon. Neighbors say that a white or silver sedan stopped in front of the house while Goodman was outside. The gunman opened fire, shooting six rounds, and then sped away.”

Anne could still see the anchorwoman’s mouth moving but it was all moving in slow motion. They flashed a picture of Sam on the screen with his wife and daughter.

“Goodman is survived by his wife and eighteen-month-old daughter. Police are still here at the scene investigating and questioning his wife and neighbors, trying to find out who would want to brutally murder this quiet suburban family man in broad daylight. Back to you, Chris and Marsha.”

Anne’s breathing was labored. She struggled to stand on her unsteady legs, pushing them toward her bedroom. Tears ran down her face; whimpers ricocheted through the vague room. Fumbling for the switch on her small lamp she fell in front of her nightstand. Shaking frenziedly, she attempted to read the labels on the prescription bottles.

Spilling out moans of frustration, she popped open the white ribbed cap and a dozen small pink pills dribbled out onto the floor. Her fingers grasped one and she shoved it down her throat, swallowing hard, praying for the little dustings of medication to flow through her veins and shut off the neurons that were causing her body to convulse with panic.

***

Lying face down on her hardwood floor, staring at the family of dust bunnies that inhabited the space under the bed, her breathing began to slow; her pulse calmed. The darkness she once ran toward had now spilled out into her reality; that dark place was here, living and breathing like the self-destructive monster it was.

Feeling the vibrations on the floor of passing trucks and neighbors moving furniture soothed her. Then she heard what sounded like a tapping noise. Lifting her unsteady head to try to focus her hearing on the sound and realizing someone was at her door lightly knocking, she heaved her body up as carefully as she could. Her vision laced with vertigo, reaching out to the walls to guide her to the door, she heard the tapping noise once again.

“Anneliese, open the door or I’m coming in.”

Coordinating her muscles to unlatch the locks took immense concentration, but once she swung the door open she fell right into Carter’s arms, sobbing into his chest. He shut the door with his foot and pulled her further inside, stroking her tangled locks.

“Shhhhhh, my Anneliese. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating in a reassuring tone.

“Oh my god, Carter, it’s my entire fault. Sam is dead because of me!” Anne bellowed out into the wool fibers.

“It’s not your fault. Stop saying that.”

He continued to stroke her tear-saturated blonde strands, placing kisses atop her head.

“It is! If I hadn’t met him at the park, putting him in danger, he would still be alive!”

Anne was near hysterics. Carter wrapped his fingers around her arms and pulled her back so he could see her agony-twisted face.

“He wasn’t murdered because of you, so please stop blaming yourself. Sam was in a lot of trouble. He was associating with people he shouldn’t have been.”

Anne tried to focus on Carter’s gorgeous sapphire eyes. They reeled her in like they had their own gravitational pull.

“Anneliese, did you take something? Your eyes look glassy?”

“When I saw the picture of his wife and daughter on the TV, I lost it and—” Her voice trailed off as her body began to feel boneless.

Carter tightened his hold on her, picking her up in his arms, cradling her like a small child.

“How many of those did you take?” he asked, placing her down on the bed and then kneeling down to the scattered pills on the floor.

“Just one. I was having an anxiety attack. They help me calm down.”

Carter placed the remaining pills in the bottle and back into the drawer. Her hunched body fell to the side, nearly missing her wrought-iron headboard. Her head sank into the plush down pillow. The room grew dark as Carter shut the lamp off and made his way to the other side of the bed. He lay down next her, and she moved closer to him, draping her arm over his stomach, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers. Anne let out a weary exhale.

“I am so sorry, Carter. Sam was your best friend and I...I just can’t believe he’s gone. Just like that. Now his daughter is going to grow up not ever knowing her father.”

A rogue tear trailed down over her nose and soaked Carter’s sweater. She knew that feeling all too well. Not fully knowing who you are or where you came from.

“Shhhhhh, my Anneliese, just close your eyes and rest. I’m here. It’s all right.”

Carter’s touch was melting her deeper into a hazy sleep. Through the night there were moments where she felt awake and others were a trance, as though her body was disconnecting from her and floating around the boundaries of her bedroom. She heard Carter’s voice out in the living room, talking to someone. Not able to distinguish realism from hallucination, she tried to listen to Carter’s firm words.

“I don’t care what he told you. Get it done.”

Silence, then footsteps.

“Carter?”

“I’m here. How are you feeling?” he asked, perching next to her and gently rubbing her arm.

“Who were you talking to?”

His spine stiffened.

“Oh that—well…my mother is asking a lot of questions, so I’m just trying to pacify her. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Anne ran her fingers through her snarled hair.

“What time is it?”

“Close to midnight. You have been out for some time but you needed it. You scared me, Anneliese.”

“Why?”

“You seemed frantic. I’ve never seen you like that and you taking medication—that’s new.”

Anne sat up, still feeling the after-effects from the pink wonder.

“Um, yeah, I haven’t taken one in a long time. After you disappeared I started therapy and my doctor prescribed some medication to help me, but like I said, I haven’t had to take any of it until…”

She swallowed the rest of her words.

“Until I came back, right?”

He looked down at his hands.

“Well, yeah, but when I saw Sam’s face, knowing I just saw him, it shook me up. I saw that BMW follow him out of the parking lot. I should have done something.”

“Like what? I told you these people were dangerous.”

“I should have gone to the police. Sam was one of the good guys, Carter, and he was just doing what you told him to do.”

Carter shot up.

“So this is my fault?”

Anne was in no condition to involve herself in a spat with Carter so instead of continuing the banter she shook her head and walked into the bathroom. Following closely behind her, Carter’s reflection stood next to her in the mirror as she brushed her rat’s-nest hair.

“Carter, I’m not going to fight with you.”

The word defeat should have been scrolling across her forehead. The silence said more than words ever could.

“I love you, Anneliese, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Silence again.

“I feel like I’m losing you.”

Her stuttered statement rumbled over her dry lips. The physical pain of his disappearing again was crippling.

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Yet,” she said.

Her faith waivered; she wore it for all to see. Carter brought her back to lie down. She felt his weight sink behind her. His arms circled her waist as he interlocked his fingers under her university T-shirt. Their skin-to-skin contact was enough for her to lull herself to sleep.

***

“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

The elderly pastor, towering over the mahogany coffin, read from Genesis; Sam’s family quietly sobbed, holding onto one another, clutching white roses. Under the green vinyl tent, Anne could hear the soft pattern of raindrops falling from the ominous sky. The clipped wind bit through the mourners gathered around Sam Goodman.

His frail wife sat on a white metal chair, embracing their sleeping toddler, who was dreaming of rainbows and ponies. Anne spotted Ryan Dover, Sam and Carter’s camping buddy across from her; he occasionally would dismiss a tear or two as he stared at the glossy brown enclosure that held his dear friend.

Anne could feel a presence beside her, braiding her fingers through soft leather gloves. She shifted her gaze to the right; Adam was standing stoically, focusing his attention on the pastor. Not wanting to cause a scene, she retained his grip until the service concluded.

“And all of God’s people said… ‘Amen.’”

One by one, people approached the casket and placed their long-stemmed roses on top of it. Some cried, some laid their cheeks to the cold surface and some said a quick but quiet prayer. Anne attempted to break from Adam but he tightened his grasp, guiding her to the casket. Controlling her breathing, she placed the rose gently on the casket, kissed her fingers and touched his smiling photo. She would miss those peppered red freckles.

“This way.” Adam bent down, whispering in the curve of her ear.

A shudder thundered through her spine. They walked away from the crowd of mourners and toward a black Lincoln Town Car. A burly man loomed next to the back passenger’s door. He looked like he just came from securing the president. Anne yanked her hand away, rubbing her fingers that ached from being crushed in Adam’s vice grasp.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The man opened the door, motioning for her to get in.

“Please, Anne.”

Hesitantly, she slid into the spacious back seat. Adam followed suit. The windows were so heavily tinted she could barely see the world of gravestones around her.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

Adam kept enough distance between them so he could somewhat face her; their knees were nearly touching though Anne scooted herself closer to the opposite door, feeling the cold leather against the back of her exposed calves.

“Anne, we have much to talk about. You can’t keep avoiding me.”

“So you stalk me at my friend’s funeral?”

“You gave me no choice,” he replied, sighing.

“I’m not ready to talk to you yet.”

“Carter isn’t who he says he is, Anne.”

“Funny, he said the same thing about you.”

Anne crossed her arms.

“I’m sure he did, and I am also quite certain you have believed his every word.”

Anne could feel her face beginning to flush with frustration; she turned her gaze to the window. Droplets of rain were trickling down, distorting the grey scenery around them.

“He is putting you in danger by revealing everything to you. He’s playing you for a fool, because he knows you would do anything for him.”

Anne shot fury his way.

“Again, he said you were playing me for a fool, lying to me every day, expressing to me your love and devotion, knowing it was a complete and utter lie. You will never understand what I feel for him.”

Adam winced at her scathing words.

“I do because that is how I feel for you. I vowed to protect you and right now you may not see it that way but you will. I knew one day our paths would interweave and in my delusional thinking, I trusted that our relationship would triumph, but he has pulled you into his twisted world of lies.”

Anne’s face softened as she watched Adam’s eyes fill with anguish.

“Adam, please tell me what’s going on.”

Anne reached out to him, placing a hand on his thigh, begging for him to be honest with her.

“I can’t.”

“Then I will find out on my own.”

Anne clutched the door handle with her free hand. He quickly trapped the one on his thigh.

“Anne, please don’t or you will surely pay the consequences like your friend Sam did.”

The threat sent volts of heat through her. His grip loosened; Anne departed the black vehicle into the downpour. Giving him one last glance before she closed the door, she saw his expression was solemn and hard.

“Goodbye, Adam.”

Anne closed the door and glanced over to where Sam’s casket had become one with the earth as four large men were covering him with dark damp soil. Would she be next—would she be laying there next to Sam while her friends mourned over her? Anne shook the thought and she picked up her pace through the eerie silent paths of Lakewood Cemetery.