Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (154 page)

“Remember what?” he said, taking a step back.

I could see it in his eyes. He still didn’t understand.

“You killed yourself, Charlie.”

He grabbed his chest as if the words were knives thrown straight into his heart. His face twisted and he started shaking his head vigorously from side to side.

“It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice breaking. “It was my heart. I had a heart attack. Why are you saying this, Abby? You’re supposed to be helping me.
What are you saying?
”

He was hysterical now, his energy shooting toward the ceiling. He began pacing in front of the window, the contrast of the darkness outside with the lights inside reflecting his image like a mirror.

“No, you’re wrong,” he said, reaching for the scarf. “Look.”

He pulled it off.

I stared at his throat, at the massive scar around his neck. He looked at my face, turned quickly, and caught his reflection in the glass.

The scarf fluttered to the floor like a dead butterfly as his fingers ran over the thick, raised welt around his neck where the rope had been. His face twisted into a portrait of terror.

And then he let out a heartbreaking howl that I could still hear long after he had disappeared into the black night.

CHAPTER 54

As I drove home, I couldn’t get Charlie out of my mind. I hoped that he would be okay, that there was some good in knowing about something so horrible. But I wasn’t so sure. Truth is supposed to set you free, but sometimes it seems like it just adds to your suffering. After seeing Charlie Modine’s face, that’s how I felt. He had come to me for help and all I had done was to multiply his misery like a surgeon who amputates the wrong limb. That agony in his face, his haunting scream in the night, would be seared in my memory forever.

And meanwhile the killer who had caused all this was still free, roaming the streets, his presence almost taunting me to do something about it. But all I had managed to do after all this time was bully Charlie into facing his own humanity. Because that’s all it was. A breaking point. Even Superman had his kryptonite. Charlie Modine, a mere mortal, couldn’t catch his wife’s killer. And when it all got too much, when it all turned to despair and endless grief and hopelessness, he took his own life.

It wasn’t my place to judge. I wasn’t even sure if God had the right.

I was angry at the priest for having led me down this path, but mostly I was angry at myself.

As I drove home, one thought began to block out everything else: I had to find a way to make it right.

I just had to.

CHAPTER 55

It was stuffy inside the house. I dropped my bag and headed to the kitchen for a soda and found a note from David on the fridge.

“Went to Liam’s after all. Be back by 10.”

I looked at my watch. It was 9:37. I figured I could hold out another 20 minutes or so.

I went through every room and checked the alarm. Then I changed into sweats and splashed water on my face, put on some Lana Del Rey, and went back out to the kitchen. I could hear the wind chimes playing gently outside.

I was more determined than ever to help Charlie, to find the crucial piece of evidence, the breakthrough that would finally put the killer behind bars. But there was nothing more I could do tonight.

I opened the bags of carrots and celery and got busy.

I was working on my knife skills. The goal was speed and size consistency. It was one of the differences that set apart professional chefs from home cooks. So I was determined that every night, no matter what, I would spend at least 15 minutes chopping, dicing, and slicing.

I took out my knife and sharpened it. I began with the carrots, keeping the tip of the blade down while my other hand formed a claw around the root vegetable. When I had a pretty good pile in front of me, I switched to the celery.

At first I thought it was David. I could have sworn a shadow had passed over the counter, but when I looked up I didn’t see anything. I went back to my chopping.

A moment later it happened again.

But when I looked up this time, there was someone there. Or
something
.

I gasped in horror, stumbling back against the refrigerator.

A ghost I had never seen before was standing on the other side of the counter.

The face was hideously swollen, the skin dark shades of what must have been purples and blues. Its bloodshot eyes bulged out of their sockets and a thick tongue hung limply out of one side of the mouth.

It reached out an arm and made a gurgling sound as if it was trying to say something.

“
Aaaabbbeee
…”

No, it couldn’t be.

My heart bounced off the ceiling when I realized who it was that was standing there.

Charlie.

He tried to say something again but I couldn’t understand him.

Suddenly the lights flickered off and back on.

And then there was a loud crash and the kitchen door flew open.

In walked the man with the tattoo.

CHAPTER 56

My heart crashed against my ribs.

I was still holding the knife. I held it out in front of me. I could feel my hand trembling but refused to look at it, keeping my eyes on him the whole time.

The killer slowly walked toward the center of the room.

“Don’t take another step!” I shouted, my voice matching my hand.

Charlie kept on with his gruesome gurgling, his face too twisted to express emotion.

The killer was standing between me and the door and I thought of making a run for it, but I didn’t think I could get around him. My phone was on the counter, closer to him than to me. Even if I could grab it before him, I wouldn’t be able to place a call in time.

A moment passed, and then another.

I just stood there, shaking.

“What do you want?” I finally said.

I expected him to tell me to back off again, to leave the murder where it was. Dead, buried, forgotten. I expected him to threaten me. I expected him to say he was here to kill me. But he didn’t say any of those things.

Instead, he said, “I’ve come for Charles Modine.”

***

“Charles Modine?” I said, my voice even shakier than before.

What was he talking about? Did he think that Charlie was still alive?

“What do you know about him?” I said.

“I’ve been on his trail for a long time. Too long. And now we’ve reached the end of the line.”

He must not have been very good at tracking people down.

“You’ve been following
him
?” I said. “But Charlie Modine’s been dead for two years.”

“You need to come with me,” he said, looking in Charlie’s direction.

He took a step closer and the room began to spin. I found it hard to breathe.

“I’ll stab you,” I said even as I saw the knife fall out of my hand. “Don’t take another step.”

A minute later I heard it hit the ground. My legs were sour cream now, no longer able to support themselves let alone me. I felt myself falling, falling, falling and then I heard a muffled explosion as my head bounced off the floor.

The last thing I saw were those boots in front of me.

And then everything went black.

CHAPTER 57

When I woke up, I was staring sideways at the back of a seat, a loud engine rumbling beneath me. I tried sitting, but the spinning hadn’t stopped and I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back down into the cool leather. I could hear the driver drumming his fingers on the wheel like the sound was coming from inside my brain.

I took small breaths and tried to manage the fear. When I opened my eyes again my sight was still fuzzy, but I could tell that I was in the back of a speeding car, the city lights and the skyscrapers breaking through the darkness outside. I couldn’t see much of the driver, just the back of his head. Mostly I heard the car roaring down the street like something from a Tarantino movie.

I rubbed my temples as the car shifted gears, picking up more speed. I tried again to sit up and this time managed to prop myself on one elbow. Others things came into view, in a blurry kind of way. The large windshield, parked cars, a series of lights on the street ahead.

We skidded left and then took a jagged right, and I held on to the straps of the seatbelt for balance. A horn honked in the distance, and then we came to a screeching, sudden stop, but the engine remained loud, vibrating through me as it idled.

Then we were moving again, in no hurry now, the driver watching something outside as we inched forward.

I pulled myself farther up. There was a lone figure running up ahead on the deserted sidewalk across the street.

The car shadowed the runner, slowly closing the distance, until we were less than 100 feet away. Then the driver swung the car across two lanes and onto the sidewalk, flooring the accelerator, the engine roaring to life. The runner turned around at the last second, her face frozen in terror.

Sarah Modine.

She held out her hand helplessly and a second later bounced on the hood before her head crashed into the windshield. Blood covered the glass.

I turned back and saw her lifeless body land hard on the concrete behind us.

CHAPTER 58

The car kept moving, fast for the first few blocks and then down to the speed limit like nothing had happened. It soon turned into a long alley lined by tall buildings on either side, stopping when it reached a dead end.

As I looked around I realized that I was at the place of my visions where I saw the tattoo man. It was the same alley.

I waited for the faceless driver to turn around or get out. But he did neither. I quietly opened the door and sprinted to a nearby dumpster to hide behind.

And then I heard them.

Voices.

***

Charlie Modine and the tattoo man were standing in the middle of the alley right in front of me. I stepped into the shadows, even though they didn’t seem to see or hear me.

“I’m going to kill you!” Modine screamed, his face back to normal. “I don’t know how you can see me and I don’t care. You’re a dead man.”

“It wasn’t me, Charles,” the killer whispered. “I didn’t kill your wife. The man you’re looking for is in the car.”

I peeked over and saw that the driver was still sitting behind the wheel.

Charlie took a swing at the tattoo man with everything he had, but the punch never made contact, passing harmlessly through him. Modine swung again and again, but kept missing. He picked up a two by four that was sticking out of the trash bin and ran toward the man, bringing it down on his head like he was hitting a piñata.

But again, nothing happened.

“Bastard!” he said, looking at him and then at the piece of wood still in his hands. “You bastard.”

“I didn’t kill her, Charles,” the man repeated. “The killer is over there, still inside the car. I brought you here so you might understand, so that you may finally see.”

His eyes wild, Charlie Modine didn’t answer.

“Look, Charles. And see.”

“See what? I already saw you kill her. That’s all I need to see.”

The tattoo man shook his head.

“All this time, Charles. Seeing only what you want to see. Look at the car. It’s time to face the truth.”

I was no longer afraid that I would be seen just like you’re not worried that the actors can see you when you’re watching them up on the screen in a movie theater. I moved toward the center of the alley to get a better look.

The driver stepped out of the car, his face still in the shadows. He pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping down the door handle.

“He’s trying to get rid of the prints.”

“That’s right, Charles,” the tattoo man said. “He’s wiping away all trace that he was here.”

The buildings blocked out most of the light and it was hard to see, but there was something vaguely familiar about the driver. He began to walk toward us and then stopped.

He pulled something out of his pocket and then his face lit up. A moment later he blew out a thick cloud of smoke in front of him that hung in the air like death.

CHAPTER 59

As a dim light fell on the alley, the killer’s face was unmistakable.

It was the face of Charlie Modine.

“No!” Charlie Modine’s ghost screamed, dropping to its knees and crying. “This is a trick. This isn’t how it happened. I didn’t kill her!”

But the killer walked right past him and there was no denying it. Not anymore.

He was older somehow, harder and colder around the eyes, but it was him. It was Charlie Modine.

He kept walking, disappearing down the alley.

The ghost sobbed and then started clawing at its eyes, all the while repeating, “No, no, no. Sarah, baby, nooo…”

CHAPTER 60

The tattoo man knelt down next to the quivering ghost.

“It can’t be…” Charlie said. “I loved her.”

“Long ago perhaps. But the only thing you loved in the end was money,” the man said. “Remember now, Charles. Remember all of it. She was going to leave you.”

“Nooo…”

“Yes, Charles. She was going to leave and take half your money. In the end there was only room in your heart for avarice.”

“No, that’s a lie!” Modine cried. “I loved her. Liar! Liar. Nooo…”

His voice trailed off and he opened his eyes, staring at the brick wall across the way, lost in a memory only he could see. He began to shake. And then he dropped his head.

The tattoo man placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“It’s time to move on, Charles.”

Charlie Modine nodded, the tears streaming down his cheeks.