Read Misery Loves Company Online

Authors: Rene Gutteridge

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Suspense, #Suspense

Misery Loves Company (3 page)

BOOK: Misery Loves Company
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SHE’D SLEPT WRONG.
Already, before she even got out of bed, her back ached, and the fact that both her shoulders felt like they’d been pulled out of their sockets might have been her first indication that she should adopt a new sleeping position. She was on her back now, though, which wasn’t how she usually woke up.

Jules hated waking up. Opening her eyes left everything behind. Memories of Jason were fine, but it was in her dreams that she
felt
him. There, she talked with him, and they weren’t remembered conversations. It was a new adventure when he showed up. Maybe once a week she’d at least glimpse him in a dream. Sometimes he’d just appear in a doorway and stand
there. Sometimes he’d be walking far away in a garden, barely visible to the naked eye. It didn’t matter. Even a few seconds was enough to make her feel he was still there. Just to see him. Just to hear his voice.

But then it came time for her to open her eyes. Always at the same time in the morning. And always with deep regret.

She stared upward, expecting to see the ceiling. But the room was pitch-black. Had she awoken in the middle of the night? It happened sometimes, but rarely. Of all things, she tended to be a good sleeper.

Turning her head caused pain to shoot through her right shoulder. Where was her clock? She tried to reach for the lamp she could not see. But her arm stopped and yanked backward.

Jules cried out in pain. Her eyes, wide-open now, could barely make out her room. Nothing was making sense. The window was on her left, not her right. She stared through the darkness, trying to find the doorway, but her eyes weren’t adjusting quickly enough. Her gaze cut back to the window. The tiniest sliver of light was slicing through what looked to be heavy curtains. At the very top, where they weren’t quite pulled together . . . moonlight.

But she didn’t have curtains in her room.

She yelled and tried to sit up. But again, she barely moved. She had a sense that her arms were above her but couldn’t feel anything beyond her shoulders. Why couldn’t she feel her hands?
Where were her hands?

“My hands! Jason!” It flew out of her mouth even though
she knew he wasn’t around. But maybe this was a bad dream. Maybe he would come.

Jules thrashed her legs, tried to twist her body, but it only caused more pain. She screamed, and this time light filled the room with a loud creak. She looked toward it. A doorway. And in the doorway, a dark figure.

“Help me!” she cried.

The figure walked forward. His footsteps didn’t make a sound. “Stay quiet,” he said. “And calm.”

“Where are my hands?”

He was by her bedside now but still backlit, so she couldn’t see any features of his face.

“I told you to stay calm.”

“What is happening?”

“Drink some water.”

She didn’t know why, but she lifted her head to drink. And he put a glass to her lips. The water was barely cold, just the right temperature. She hadn’t realized it, but she was thirsty. He took the water away too soon.

“What is happening?” she asked again, trying to remember to stay calm.

“You will know in time.” His voice was smooth and low, like a growl or a purr
 
—she couldn’t decide which. He reached for something. Suddenly she felt her hands, high above her head, prickly and tingling. But they were there.

She felt warmth and realized his hand was on hers. Then a peaceful drowsiness settled over her, and her body relaxed.
Her shoulders stopped hurting. She did not care at all whether she had hands or not.

Jules turned her gaze to the window again. The white light absorbed part of the darkness, swimming peacefully through the air. Its line waved like water in an ocean and she swore she could hear crashing waves.

She closed her eyes and went to find Jason.

“Chris!” Addy’s frantic voice cut through the quiet night air. “Chris!”

Chris jerked to a sitting position. He threw off the covers and reached for the gun in his nightstand. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Addy standing by the other side of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone is knocking,” she said, her voice a terrified whisper. “At the front door.”

Chris heard it now. He looked at the clock
 
—3:12 a.m. The pounding continued.

“Stay here.” Gun in hand, he hurried out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the foyer. As usual, his little sister didn’t listen. She was right on his heels. “I’m coming!” he yelled. Then he turned to Addy. “Get on that couch and don’t move.”

He flipped on the porch light and peered through the peephole. Then groaned. He slid the gun into the drawer of a small entryway table.

Unlocking the dead bolt, he opened the door. “Lt. Colonel.”

The man was standing in the middle of the porch, swaying like a tall weed against a moderate breeze. His eyes were bloodshot and angry. He snarled as he regarded Chris. “Why aren’t you out there looking for her?”

Chris stepped out and closed the door behind him, catching a whiff of alcohol on his breath. “Sir, it is the middle of the night.”

“I know what time it is,” he said, waving his hand toward nothing definitive. “Don’t you think I’ve been counting every single second?”

“Lower your voice,” Chris said. He didn’t have a lot of tolerance for drunks. Especially those who drove. Chris glanced at the Lt. Colonel’s pickup truck, lights still glowing through the dark, the driver’s side door wide-open.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever carousing you’ve got going on in there. Whatever woman. Whatever she’s doing in there. Heard her screaming, making all kinds of noise.” He swayed again.

“That’s my sister. She’s staying with me for two weeks.”

“I can’t find her.” The meanness in his eyes faded, replaced by tears. “I’ve looked for her. I’ve looked everywhere for her.”

Chris took a deep breath. “All right. Give me a second. Just stay right here.” He walked inside, shut the door.

Addy was upright on the couch, curled up in a blanket. She hopped to her feet and followed him to his bedroom. “Who was
that
?”

“Jules Belleno’s father.”

“Jules? You mean, Jason’s . . . ?”

“That’s right.”

“What is he doing here?”

Chris went to his closet to pull on jeans and a shirt. “I saw him earlier today. He couldn’t find her, was worried.”

Addy walked into the closet, her arms wrapped tightly around herself for warmth. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what this is,” Chris said, feeling his own aggravation. “He claimed something was wrong, but she’d only been missing for twenty-four hours or so.”

“But he’s here, in the dead of night?”

Chris glanced at her. “And drunk.”

She looked him up and down, like she’d just noticed he was getting dressed. “Where are you going?”

“First of all, I’m driving him home. After that, I don’t know.” He looked at her. “Addy, this doesn’t sound like her, to disappear.”

Addy stared at the carpet. “I don’t know her that well. I just remember you talking about her, and I met her at the funeral.”

“I went through her house. Everything looked fine. Her car’s there, but it’s not unusual for her to walk to someplace like the store or fish market.”

“Maybe she finally had a nervous breakdown. I mean, is it really that unexpected? After Jason . . . you know, she sort of turned into a recluse. She always seemed like such a . . . complicated mess.”

Chris rubbed his tired eyes and didn’t answer.

“You couldn’t force her to let you help,” Addy said, resting a hand on his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He went to the front door, grabbed his gun, tucked it in the waist of his jeans, and said, “Well, you’re awake. Get my truck keys and follow me over there so I don’t have to take a cab home.”

“You look horrible,” Maecoat said as they stepped into roll call. “Like there might be a woman involved.”

“Funny,” Chris said, but if his eyes looked as bad as they felt, he knew he was in for some ribbing today.

“Seriously. You don’t get bags like that unless you’re talking way into the night about how you feel and how she feels and how you both feel together.”

“Only you’d know something like that, Maecoat.”

“You’re trying to tell me that the whites of your eyes look like rivers of blood because you got a good night’s sleep?”

Chris sighed and glanced up to see the captain delayed in a conversation right outside in the hallway. He lowered his voice. “It wasn’t a woman.”

“I have
got
to get you a life.”

“It was the Lt. Colonel.”

“Franklin?”

“Yep.”

“You know how many times I’ve had to take that guy home? I once found him in a ditch. No joke, four o’clock in the morning. No car. Nothing but him, passed out.”

“Yeah, well, this is a little more complicated.”

“Yeah?”

“Juliet Belleno is missing.”

“Missing? What does that mean?”

“He hasn’t seen her since Tuesday morning.”

“So he tried to file a
 
—”

“Yeah. But . . . I mean, there’s something to be said for his concern. Jules hardly leaves the house. Ever since Jason . . . you know
 
—she just doesn’t leave, except maybe for the store or something like that.”

“You get into the house?”

“He had a key.” Chris glanced at the ground. He’d never been a very good liar. “Everything checked out. Keys, purse, cell phone gone, but car still there. So a friend could’ve come by and gotten her. She could’ve taken the bus somewhere.”

“What are you going to do?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked again toward Captain Perry, who was finishing up his conversation. “You know how flexible the captain is.”

Maecoat smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll really have his ear.”

“I should try.”

“Worth a shot, I guess. But Perry hates the Lt. Colonel.”

“They have their own little war going, don’t they?”

“So the rumor goes.”

The captain walked in and the morning lineup went as usual. They were briefed on a couple of robberies. Teens gathering too late at the beach.

Maecoat bumped his arm as they were dismissed. “Louie’s at noon?”

“Sounds good.”

Because Wissberry was a fairly small community
 
—under ten thousand residents
 
—their police force consisted of thirty rotated partners. Some weeks Chris rode by himself; other weeks Maecoat was with him.

Chris stood, trying to decide what to do. He’d left the Lt. Colonel passed out on the couch of his daughter’s home to keep watch for her, after promising the man that he’d do what he could today.

“Downey, you just going to stand there all morning?”

“Sorry . . . sir . . .” Chris blinked and regarded the captain, who gave him a small smirk. Well, he seemed to be in a decent mood. “Cap, can I talk to you for a second?”

“What about?”

Chris decided to leave the Lt. Colonel out of it for the moment. “You know Jason’s wife, Juliet?”

“Sure.”

“Her family is concerned. She’s been missing for almost forty-eight hours.”

“You know the drill.”

“I do,” Chris said, stepping closer. “But Jules isn’t really the type to just go away without notice. In fact, in the last couple of years, she doesn’t really leave the house much.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“So I think there might be some validity to his concerns.”

The captain finally looked up from his paperwork, over
the rim of his glasses. “Look, Chris, I can appreciate your personal interest in this. But you know how strapped we are for manpower. I can’t put a detective on this for another day, and that’s if we’re lucky. You see where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He paused. “Maybe I can take a preliminary look into it. See if I can find something of interest.”

The captain took off his glasses, gave Chris a weary look.

“It’s not just anybody.”

The captain blinked long and hard. “Sorry, Chris. It’s got to wait. I can’t bend procedure, and you know that.”

“Understood.” Chris nodded with no intention of complying whatsoever.

BOOK: Misery Loves Company
7.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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