Picture Me Dead

“No, not really.”

 

 

“Okay, well, just give me a minute,” Nick said. He wasn’t the type to pry, even if a few questions were warranted.

 

“I just had a feeling someone had been on the Gwendolyn,” Jake offered. “I could have sworn I locked her when I left, but the door was open when I got back. There’s nothing gone—I may be imagining that someone was there. Hell, maybe I thought I locked it and didn’t.” His tone made it clear that he didn’t believe that. “Since I could see the lights from the bar and knew you were still up, I thought I’d ask about the key.”

 

“No problem. And hey, if you’re uncomfortable about my having it…”

 

“I’m not. I appreciate your having it for workmen, deliveries, whatever. I’d just kind of like to make sure it’s here.”

 

“I’m sure it is. The house is off-limits to customers, you know. But you’re right, it can’t hurt to check. Hey, help yourself, if you want a drink, coffee, whatever. You know where the kitchen is.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Nick disappeared down a hall to the right.

 

 

 

Ashley’s sleep was troubled by dreams. Stuart was in them, talking to her, walking around in his white briefs as if it were completely normal. As if they had become the new office attire.

 

Stuart faded….

 

Dilessio was back in her dreams. He wasn’t even wearing briefs. She kept trying to meet his eyes, rather than looking down, pretending that there was nothing abnormal about him walking around naked. She was with him, topside on his houseboat, telling him just how graphic cable was these days.

 

She awoke suddenly, feeling drenched and chilled at the same time. The dream images faded, and she sat up in her bed, trying to discern what had awakened her.

 

It was late. There was no muted noise from the bar. The television was showing yet another episode of I Love Lucy.

 

She stood, stretched, and wondered what could have bothered her. Walking to one of the two windows that flanked the door to the docks, she looked out. The docks themselves were empty, the boats rocking gently in their slips.

 

Still uneasy, Ashley walked silently in her bare feet to the door that led to the house. She opened the door and listened. Nothing.

 

The bar had closed. Nick had probably gone on in to bed.

 

Nothing…and then…

 

A noise. Just a noise. Something shifting…somewhere in the house.

 

She went into the living room. Nick never left the place in total darkness, so dim night-lights cast eerie shadows over the room.

 

The mounted fish seemed to glare at her, furious at being out of the water, stuffed and hanging on a wall.

 

She’d lived here a long time. The fish had never seemed to be a menace before.

 

Again…that noise…

 

And it was coming from the kitchen. She walked swiftly and silently through the house to the kitchen, dropping low behind the counter, listening again. It could be Nick, of course. Or Sharon. But why would they walk so stealthily through their own house?

 

She moved along behind the counter, toward the end, from where she could get a full view of the room.

 

Too late she realized that someone, moving as silently as she, had come up behind her. A scream rose in her throat as rough arms suddenly grabbed her around her waist.

 

“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck are you doing?”

 

She tried to spin and fight, lost her balance and fell. The figure came down heavily on top of her. The oversized T-shirt in which she had been sleeping rucked up between them.

 

Before she could even struggle, the kitchen was suddenly flooded with light.

 

“What the hell…?”

 

It was Nick speaking. And she was staring up into the tense features of their newest neighbor and the star of her recent dream: Detective Jake Dilessio.

 

To her pleasure, he looked as awkward as she felt. For a moment they were caught there, almost in an embrace.

 

Then he quickly scrambled up, offering her a hand.

 

He wasn’t naked, but it was close enough. Just those cutoffs. And in their brief moments on the floor together, they had made a contact she could still feel. She seemed to be burning from her flushed features to her toes. But then again, despite his tan, he had taken on a more crimson hue, as well.

 

“I thought someone was sneaking through the house,” he said.

 

“Ditto,” she murmured, still meeting his eyes.

 

“Didn’t occur to either one of you just to call out, huh?” Nick said.

 

“Well, if someone were actually sneaking around the house…” Ashley began.

 

“You were doing exactly that,” Jake told Ashley with a grin.

 

“I live here!” she reminded him. “What were you doing in here?”

 

“He was with me,” Nick said.

 

“He was in the kitchen—you weren’t,” Ashley pointed out.