The Marsh Madness

“What?”


“Everyone’s looking for you. It’s serious. For all I know Castellano has someone watching the place. Who knows what could happen if some trigger-happy type shows up?”

I kept going as if I hadn’t heard him. “But it’s horrible for you to arrest me, especially when we both know I didn’t do it.” All right, so I was stalling. I know what cops have to do. If I was a police officer, I would have arrested me. There was no question that Tyler was conscientious, but I believed he didn’t want anything bad to happen to me. Being arrested would be included in the category of something bad happening. What choice did he have?

“Horrible of me? You broke into my house!”

“You gave me a key. You didn’t ask for it back. In a court of law, that could be construed to mean—” Okay, so I was babbling to stall.

“Come on, Jordan. That’s just plain stupid.”

“Who are you calling stupid?” Walter yipped when I yelled. “Here! Take your nasty little key.” I flung the key to the far side of the bed where it hit the wall with a plink and fell behind the mattress. Cobain leapt onto the bed, and Walter yipped wildly and spun around in circles.

Tyler stared in the direction of the key and at his own dog. Cobain was doing his best to retrieve that key. Yes, Cobain, who will eat anything.

Tyler shouted, “Don’t eat that key, Cobain. Leave it!”

I used that diversion to race for the back door and outside. I scampered down the stairs and ran like the devil was chasing me. I let Walter run ahead of me. I smiled and called to him. He yipped and skipped. What fun! Nosy neighbors would see a woman having a fun time with her adorable pug. Nothing suspicious about that. I headed in the opposite direction to where the Navigator was parked, planning to approach it from the other side. I glanced back and saw Tyler framed in the doorway, still clutching his blue-and-white-striped bath sheet. Good. Tyler Dekker was not likely to chase me down his street clad only in that towel.

I made the international sign for “sorry, I had no choice.” I hoped that shrugging-and-grimace combination wasn’t misinterpreted. Tyler Dekker might have had his doubts about my guilt, but he’d probably never be able to forgive me for humiliating him.

I figured by now he’d be calling the police to intercept me.

I was out of breath by the time I reached the Navigator. Panting, with Walter yipping by my ear, I tried to think where I could go next. I didn’t hear the sound of sirens, so that was good. I tumbled into the car panting. Walter matched me pant for pant.

How had all this happened?

One week earlier my life had been rosy. Beyond rosy. Perfect job, perfect living arrangements, perfect relationship with Tyler, all things considered. I had been secure and happy. And now? It seemed like I was the victim of a cosmic joke. Everything was falling apart. And the worst was yet to come.

I looked out the rearview mirror. The joke apparently was continuing. Tyler, still wearing the large striped towel, was thudding along the sidewalk in his bare feet. Those large white feet were rapidly approaching the Navigator. My first thought was horror that Tyler was going to wreck his soles. Were they bleeding? I knew what that was like. My second thought was to get out of there.

My hands shook as I put the key in the ignition.

Tyler thudded closer.

The Navigator purred and leapt forward. Tyler bent over, hands on his knees, probably gasping for breath.

I suppose if I hadn’t been looking out the rearview mirror, I might have noticed the dark van pull up beside me. But of course, I was staring back at Tyler, realizing what I had lost.

It would have been better if I’d spotted the van before it cut me off.


*

“WHA?” I SAID like a fool.

But there was no time to articulate a better query.