Hush (3 page)

“Easier said than done in this crowd,” I said back, leaning in equally as close as he had, try to act cool as if he hasn’t had an effect on me in the simplest way.

“We’re almost there.  Just hold on,” he squeezed my hand as we pushed forward.  A short skinny man with an oversized pair of headphones on his ears pulled Damien aside and pointed him down a narrow side hallway.

“Third door on the right,” the skinny fellow shouted.

“Thanks man,” Damien called back, slapping him on the back as we moved towards our destination.  The crowd was much sparser down this hall.  I looked over my shoulder and found Callem tailing us as we navigated down the corridor.

Damien pushed through a door that had a laminated sign on it.  “Musician’s Suite D”.  Inside, I felt completely out of my element.  Breathtaking women with smooth tanned legs that went on for days stood with lean and fit men all dressed to the nines.  A large TV hung in the far corner, broadcasting the ongoing concert that shook the room slightly.

Nearly every head turned as Damien, Callem, and I walked in.  A number of people lit up at the sight of Damien.  They came over to greet him.  He was courteous and introduced me to all of his acquaintances.  Most of the men I was introduced to had nicknames that I found hard to decipher over the pounding music.  The women looked at me like prey or competition, making the child in me cower with fear.

I stood quietly for a while, trying to keep up with the conversations about production, studio time, and the particulars of editing tracks.  Funny thing is, it didn’t keep my attention.  I stared up into the TV, watching Michael Bublé on stage performing somewhere in this building.  It was strange to think a figure like Mr. Bublé, who I’d only ever seen on TV, on my computer, or in magazines, someone who was practically a figment of my imagination, was so close; so near.

“Where are my manners,” Damien said, wrapping his hand around my waist and cooing into my ear.  “Can I get you a drink?  A mix, a glass of wine?”

“Um, I’m okay for now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.  I nodded before he turned to help himself to a mix.  Damien left me for a minute, standing in the company of other musicians I had nothing in common with.  “So how do you know Damien?”  The woman who’d been introduced to me as Janelle perked up.

“I don’t really know him.  We only met today.”  I leaned in, trying to shout over the noise in the room.

Janelle nodded in approval.  “Where at?”

“My office.  I’m an oncologist and Damien was there to see one of my patients who was chosen for Make-A-Wish.”

“I’m sorry?  A cosmetologist?”  Janelle asked.

“No oncologist,” I corrected.

“What’s that?  What do you do?”  Janelle’s face curled up in a bit of a scowl.

“You’re a cancer doctor?”  One of the men stepped in.  Damien had called him C-Bomb.

“Pediatric, yes.”

“You’re kidding me.  You’re not old enough, are you?  You a med student?” another one of the men, Trey, asked.

I inhaled heavily.  Conversations always seemed to be driven around me and my profession and my age.  Thankfully Damien returned with a tall glass in hand, stealing the attention away from me.

“Damien, you just met this girl today and you’ve already got her on your arm?” the small guy named Zeke spat out.  What the hell was that supposed to mean.

I looked up at Damien chivalrously.  “Nah, man.  It’s not like that,” he said simply which seemed to suffice for the group.

“Did you know you’ve got a doctor in this one?” the biggest guy, Bubba said, pointing at me.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I added, trying to bat away the topic, but I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about.  “What do you all do?”  Posing that question opened the flood gates for more music related conversation, taking the spotlight off little old me.

My nerves were at their peak and the wine was calling to me.  Damien’s glass was empty within a matter of minutes.  “Could I get you a drink now?”  Damien asked, letting his hand linger in the comfortable little nook above my butt.

“Yes please, thank you.  Just some wine will be fine,” I mumbled.  I kept my eyes on the TV, hoping his friends wouldn’t drag me into conversation again.  Damien came back with a rather large glass for me.

I was about to lift the glass to my lips when it was snatched from my hands by Callem.  He stepped past me and whispered something into Damien’s ear that I couldn’t hear.  They both started snapping quick, inaudible remarks to each other, pointing to the glass and at each other.  I could see Callem’s jet black eyes sending a fierce message, surely more powerful than the hushed words he was saying to the pop star.  When he was finished, he turned to me and without a word, took my hand and pulled me from the room, not before dumping the drink into the trash.

“What’s going on?” I shouted as Callem hurried me through the two long and crowded hallways.  “Callem?  What’s wrong?”  I asked again as he burst through the double doors and out into the parking garage.

Callem didn’t let go of my hand until he had me in the car.  I was getting a little nervous at this point.  I didn’t understand what was happening.  Did I do something wrong?  I sat quietly as he swerved the car out of the garage and back onto the busy city streets.

“I’m sorry,” Callem finally said after a long heavy sigh.  “I couldn’t let you stay there anymore.”

“What did I do?” I mumbled.

Callem’s eyes flicked to the rear view mirror.  “You didn’t do anything.  It was Damien.  I could handle the phone calls, talking you up like you were a piece of meat, but I saw him put something in your glass of wine.”

My jaw dropped.  “He laced my drink?”  I felt like screaming.   “With what?”

“I’m not sure, but I can guarantee you it wasn’t a vitamin supplement.”

 “What the hell was he thinking?  Oh my God.  Should we turn him in?  Should we go to the police?”

“If we go to the police, I’d be arrested as an accomplice for transporting him and his drugs.”

“What?”

“Even if I’m the one who turned him in, I could get my license revoked for transporting prescription drugs.  Plus, he’s probably ditched his stash by now and he’ll lawyer up on you for slander or filing a false report.”

“But we don’t even know they’re illegal drugs, so then there wouldn’t be any cause to get you in trouble.”

“There also wouldn’t be any reason to turn him in if they weren’t illegal drugs.”

“We don’t have to tell them you were driving him around.”

“I’m not in the business of lying to the police, especially when Damien and so many other people can say otherwise.”

“So we’re just going to let him do this again?”

“No.  I told him I know every transportation company and security service in the country and if he ever tries anything like that again, I’d go to the media, which is much worse than going to the authorities for someone like him.”

I shook my head.  “No, no that’s not enough.  There’s no question he had planned on drugging me and taking advantage of me.  We can’t just let him get away with that.”

Callem sat silently for a second.  He sighed before changing lanes and making a spontaneous right hand turn.  “Alright.  You’re right.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  “Are you really going to get your license revoked?”

Callem didn’t answer right away which was enough of an answer for me.  “We’re almost there,” he responded quickly, diverting the subject.

“Could you just take me home please?  Just forget it.  No harm, no foul, right?  Just take me home please.”

“I think we should just go to the police station.”

“Callem, please.  Take me home.  Please.  I want you to.  I just want to go home.”  I leaned back in the seat.  The car was silent the rest of the ride.

“No, we need to get out there this week.  Let me check my schedule and talk to Liv and I’ll let you know when we’re leaving,” I paused, listening to Red jaw at me on the other end of the phone.  “Then reschedule it,” I spat.  “It’s not as important as this.  We need to get things under control before someone else comes in there wanting to shut us down.  I’ll get back to you.”

I hung up the phone before I could hear anymore bitching from my wingman.  I couldn’t stand hearing anymore after being on the phone with Spaniards who think they’re being mistreated and are threatening to walk.  Mind you, these whiney Spaniards speak a total of twenty-seven words of English, the primary ones being ‘fuck’ and ‘bitch’.

I rubbed my hand through my thinning hair feeling a gravitational pull from the house yanking me closer and closer.  I had to think about what day it was before I could remember how long I’d been gone.

Nine days.

Nine long, lonely, stressful days.

I called Liv’s cell.  It rang before voicemail picked up.  It wasn’t unusual for her not to answer, not in her line of work so I thought nothing of it.  I was hoping she’d be home, but after getting her voicemail three times since I landed an hour ago, I figured she got called into work.

May the loneliness continue.  At least for now.

A soft rain pattered the windshield as I pulled into the drive.  All the lights were off.  Yep, she’s at work.  The garage door slid open effortlessly and I pulled the Mercedes inside.  I was surprised to see Liv’s matching Benz sitting in the neighboring stall.

I was trying to think of a reason for her to still be home, but not answering her phone.  Maybe she’s sick, which would suck because that’d mean I wouldn’t be getting any ass tonight.  Maybe she went out with Erin and forgot her phone at home, which wouldn’t be so bad because she’d come home a little tipsy and may want to welcome me home.  Maybe it’s on silent and she just doesn’t hear it ringing.

After getting my bags out of the trunk, I tapped the garage door button and headed inside.  We’ve lived here for almost five years now.  I didn’t need the light on to know my way around.  I moved through the kitchen and into the living room, setting my bags on the chair before moving up the stairs.  My dress shoes slapped against each stair and each slap echoed through the whole house.

“Liv?” I whispered as I cracked the bedroom door open.  I didn’t want to turn on the light if she really was asleep.  I tried to fix my eyes, hoping to make out a figure under the covers in the darkness.  I had confidence in my aging eyes.  I flicked on the light to find the bed empty.  I frowned, still wondering where my wife had run off to.  I sat down on the bed and stripped my aching feet of their stiff purgatories, letting my shoes drop to the floor with a thud.

Peeling back my jacket, I noticed our wedding picture was missing from the wall, which I thought was odd.  I stood up and headed for the bathroom for a piss when I was distracted by the lack of distraction.  The vanity was completely cleared off.  There wasn’t a tube of mascara or a bottle of lotion.  There wasn’t any foundation or eye shadow or hair spray.  There was nothing.

“What the hell?” I said out loud, opening up the cupboard and still finding nothing.  I popped open Liv’s jewelry box and it looked like everything was still there.  I walked into the closet.  Again, everything looked to be in place.

That’s when I noticed another picture was missing.  One from our honeymoon in Italy.  Popping back into our bedroom, I found more nails in the wall that no longer had pictures hanging from them.  The frames from the side tables were gone.  The statuette of an art deco angel I got Liv on her birthday was gone.  The photo albums from the bureau were gone, also.

“What the fuck is going on?” I grumbled.  I swept out of the room and headed for the spare room.  I nearly ripped the closet door off the hinges before discovering the suitcases were gone.  Taking a deep breath, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Liv’s phone again.

After only two rings in my ear, I could hear a ringing in the kitchen.  Her phone was here.  I ran downstairs and found her phone on the kitchen counter, right next to her car keys and her credit cards.  Okay, she left.  Why the hell would she leave?  Did someone die?  No, she would have told me.  She would’ve called. 

My heart stopped beating for a moment.  No, she couldn’t have…

It’s not possible.

How could she have?

I ran back up the stairs, this time heading for my office.  I went to unlock the safe, but realized it was already open, hanging ajar as if I were meant to find it this way.   “Oh no,” I sighed as I pulled the doors open.  The evidence of my offenses hung out of my once secret vault, taunting me in the worst way.

If the world started ending around me in that exact moment, I wouldn’t have noticed.  My breathing seized.  I didn’t want this to happen.  I knew eventually it would, but not like this.  I didn’t want it to happen like this.  How did this happen?

I dialed Red again.  It rang three times, three times too many, before he picked it up.  “Red, we’ve got a problem.  It’s Liv.  She knows.”

I parked the car in the narrow driveway.  I liked this neighborhood.  It was quiet, clean.  The street was silent as I stepped out, heading for the back door of the car.  I hopped out quickly, opening the door for her before she could do it for herself.  She seemed like the kind of woman who didn’t want me to do that for her all the time.  Her petite frame moved with ease from the leather seats.

“Thank you again,” Olivia started, “for helping me tonight.  It was more than enough.”

“It’s the least I could do.  I just want to you know, if I would have known about this all along, I wouldn't have asked you out for him.  I’m just glad I caught it before you had anything to drink at all.”

Olivia nodded.  She started walking up the drive and I followed.  I don’t know why I followed.  Something compelled me to do so.  She looked over her shoulder at me, probably wondering the same thing I was.   I stood behind her for a moment while she fiddled with her keys and unlocked her door.  I noticed the windows were open and the screen was on the outside.

“You know, someone could easily get into your house,” I noted, pointing at the windows as she swung the door open.  I leaned over and ran my finger along the seam of the window to see just how flimsy it was.

“Oh, I don’t usually leave those open when I’m gone.  I must have forgotten,” she responded.  “Uh, do you want to come in for a minute?  Can I get you something for the road?  A water maybe.”  She flicked on the light.

I smiled, stepping in behind her.  “You know, that would be perfect, thank you.”

“Give me a minute,” Olivia said before disappearing around the corner.

A sweet and floral smell hung in the air when I pushed the door open.  The small bungalow was very modest and looked like the kind of place Olivia would live, given the little I knew about her.  It was bright and inviting.  The couches, oversized and plush, just begged to be lounged on.

I hovered next to the large bookcase, reading the spines that faced out.  There were a lot of thick medical books, probably text books she used in med school.  I found a heavy and quite new edition of Grey’s Anatomy standing alone on one side of the shelf.  It was next to a framed photo of Olivia on her graduation day standing beside a beaming young woman who looked to equal her in age, though they looked very different.

Curiously, I set the book on its back and lifted the hard cover.  “I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.  You did it, Livy!  I love you! – Erin” was scribed in the top corner.  I set the book back up the way I had found it.  On a higher shelf, I was surprised to see a number of books about serial killers.  One was rather thick and titled Serial Killers and Mass Murderers Encyclopedia.  I nearly started chuckling when I looked down on the bottom shelf and found a couple dozen children’s books lined up one right after another.   What a range of reading material she had.

“Okay, here you are,” Olivia reappeared, handing me a bottle of water.

“Thank you.  You have a great little place here,” I noted.  “You just need to make sure it’s locked up.”

She smirked.  “I swear, it normally is.  I was kind of distracted when I left the house earlier.”

I nodded.  A silence clouded over us.  “Well, if you need anything else, you can always call me,” I pulled my business card out of my coat pocket and handed it to her.  “That’s my cell and I’ve got it on me all the time.”

Olivia looked up at me with wide, doe-like eyes.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  Thank you again.”

I nodded before turning to the door and heading out just as quickly as I’d come in.  My phone rang as I climbed back behind the wheel.  “Yeah,” I said, answering the call.  The familiar voice on the other end chirped in my ear for a minute.  “Okay.  I’m on my way,” I said quickly and started the car.  That’s two too many issues with my clients for one night.  I had yet another mess to clean up and the night was still young.  Duty called.