Alice hadn’t been to Jake’s condo on Kennewick Beach for over a decade. She’d passed it many times, of course, in the car, or while walking along Kennewick Beach, but since she’d been married to Bill she barely even noticed it anymore. It was a relic from the past, in the way her mother was long gone, and in the way that Jake, as she used to know him, was also gone.
But while she’d been waiting at the hospital she’d gotten a text from Jake asking her to come right away. She had a bad feeling, especially since Harry had been asking all those questions. Had it been Jake that Harry had seen in front of the motel? Nothing would shock her right now.
And now he wanted her to come to his condo, something he’d never asked. It could only be bad news.
Alice had thought it possible, after hearing that her husband had died, that Jake had been responsible. They’d had that conversation about Bill and the girl down in New York, and she’d seen something in Jake’s eyes, that loyalty he’d always had, that told her he might do something about it. If he had done it, he’d done a good job of making it look like an accident. But then, Jake had probably gone and killed Bill’s girlfriend who’d come up from New York for the funeral. That was a stupid move, drawing more attention to Bill’s death, and probably drawing attention away from Annie and Lou Callahan. And then she’d gotten the call late last night about Harry, and she’d wondered if Jake had something to do with that as well. He was spinning out of control. She’d immediately called him, left him a message telling him to meet her at the hospital, and he had, though she’d yet to be able to truly talk with him. But she’d seen him. He looked terrible when she spotted him in the entranceway, like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were bloodshot, and he even smelled bad, like something had gone rotten inside of him.
She pulled in front of his unit in the condo parking lot and stared up at the faded grey wood of the four-unit development, and the flat, white sky above it. This is where my mother died, she thought, surprising herself. Usually, when she thought of the condo, she thought of the beautiful years she had lived here with Jake. It had been one of the happiest times of her life, even though a part of her now knew that it had all been lies, like so much else in her life.
She stepped out onto the parking lot, smoothed her skirt down along her thighs, and locked the car behind her.
She walked across the asphalt, gritty with sand, then up the exterior stairway to Jake’s door. She rang the bell, and listened to the familiar bong from inside the condo.
The door opened. Jake was standing there, his suit jacket rumpled, his eyes puffy. His mouth looked slack, hanging open slightly, and the white hairs of his mustache had grown over his upper lip.
“Jake?” she said.
“I screwed up,” he said. “I screwed up everything.”
She stepped inside the condo, and Jake shut the door behind her. She walked into the living room, dark because the curtains were closed, but what she could see looked grimy and unkempt. And it was too warm, the windows yet to be opened since winter.
“What did you do?” she asked.
Jake scratched at his scalp. The sides of his lips were crusted in white, like he needed to drink a glass of water. “Did he see me?”
“Did who see you?” Alice asked. She decided if Jake was suddenly going to confess everything to her, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“Did Harry see me last night, outside of the motel?”
“I think he did, Jake. What were you doing there?”
“I went to her motel room to keep an eye on her. I still thought—”
“Who, Jake?”
“Grace’s sister. She’d come to identify the body.”
“So what?”
“Because she must have known about Bill and his affair with her sister.”
“So what?” Alice said again.
“I just wanted to keep an eye on her, Alice. I haven’t been able to sleep for days.”
“You killed Bill’s girlfriend?”
“She was talking with Harry, Alice. She knew something. I know she did.” He sat down on the recliner. Alice’s eyes had adjusted to the dark living room, and she saw dust particles rising in the light from the kitchen as Jake settled his weight onto the chair. “I’m tired, Alice.”
“Were you going to kill her, too?”
Jake sighed through his nose. “Who, Caitlin? She was after Harry, as well, as it turned out. I was watching her motel, and he showed up there. I took off running, but, Jesus, I don’t know . . .”
“Relax, Jake. Maybe you need to tell me everything you’ve done.”
“If he saw me, then he’s probably already told the police. They could be on their way here right now.”
“He didn’t tell the police anything.”
“He told Caitlin about me. He’ll tell the police.”
“What do you mean? Did you go see Caitlin?”
“She was scared of me, Alice. She knew. And if she knew, then the police know.”
“What did you do to her?” Alice asked.
“I took care of it. She’s in the trunk of my car in the garage.”
“Jesus. Jake, you need—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all taken care of.”
“It’s not all taken care of. You’re right, the police are going to come after you. You need to either leave town, or—”
“Shhh, I know what needs to be done. That’s why I asked you here. For your help. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to do this. I don’t think I can do it myself.”
“I don’t know what—”
“Yes, you do. I’m old and I don’t want to go to prison. All you need to tell them is that I invited you here, and when I attacked you, you defended yourself. You can tell them I’d stopped being able to sleep, and that I did it all for you. Or just tell them you have no idea what went wrong with me, and they’ll come up with their own ideas.”
“It’s too warm in here, Jake,” Alice said, standing and going to look at the thermostat on the wall.
“Do you remember when we first met? Right down there on the beach. You were in a green bathing suit and I’d never seen anyone so beautiful.”
“You were with my mother.”
“No, I don’t think so. It was just the two of us.”
Alice turned from the thermostat to look at Jake. He was wrong about how they’d met, but she did remember meeting him, how strong he looked, how sure of himself he was. He’d lost all that now.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Alice said.
“Yes?”
“How . . . exactly?” Alice walked to the nearest window, the one that looked out over the parking lot. She twisted the lock, noticing the grime that had accumulated on the sill, and cracked the window. The smell of salt air came into the condo almost immediately.
“There’s a knife in the kitchen,” Jake said. “I’d get it for you but I think you should be the one who pulls it from its block. I’ll hit you once, very lightly, with the cosh, and then you stab me. There won’t be any suspicion, and even if there is, they’ll never prove you weren’t protecting yourself.”
Alice watched as a familiar car—it looked like Harry’s green Honda—turned from Scituate into the condo’s parking lot, pulling into an empty spot next to Alice’s Volvo.
“Harry’s here,” she said, still watching the car.
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure Harry’s here,” she said, then watched as the driver’s side door opened, and it was Harry who stepped out, turning and looking up at the condo building. Alice moved back from the window. “It’s him. He’s here.”
“Then it has to be done right now.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Alice said. “Where?” And suddenly she did want to kill Jake, not as a favor to him, but because she was angry.
“In the kitchen.” Jake picked up the sock filled with quarters from the coffee table, and Alice followed him into the alcove. “Tell them we were talking in here. I wasn’t making any sense, and I threatened you. You pulled out the knife and protected yourself.”
“You have to hit me.”