The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) (16 page)

“Tak
e
a look through the paperwork,” Whitmore said. “It’s just the preliminary and final report and several statements. The interviews weren’t long because it was pretty obvious there was no foul play involved.”

Eddie and Ana sat down in the interrogation room. There was no other space for them to work in. Whitmore put a half-filled cardboard box on the table and popped the lid.

“What time are you due at Bernard’s?” Whitmore asked.

Eddie said, “Eight.”

Whitmore checked his watch. “Okay, assuming nothing comes up with Mitchell Hollis, I’ll see you there.” He left them alone in the room.

“I’ve always wanted to read this,” Ana said. “Just never had the guts.”

“You go first, then.”

Ana looked down into the box. She pulled out a few manila folders, worn and bent with age. She opened the one on top and Eddie recognized the police report. Though it was fourteen years old, it had been generated on a typewriter. Some of the letters hadn’t aligned with the blank spaces, and the font was difficult to read.

He waited till she was finished. She read it a couple of times. It didn’t take her long because the report was so short.

She handed it over.

Eddie flipped it around and read.

Deceased: TESSA LOVSKY. 18 Y

Witnesses: MICHAEL HOLLIS, MARTIN KINDLER, BERNARD HATHAWAY, COLIN WINSPEAR

Description: SEVEN TEENAGERS NOTED ABOVE CONGREGATED AT LAKE # 267 (UNNAMED AT PRESENT) ON NOVEMBER 22, 1998 AT APPROX. 1400 HOURS. PROCEEDED TO HORSEPLAY ON ICE. DECEASED STEPPED ONTO ICE AND IT BEGAN TO CRACK. DECEASED FELL INTO THE WATER. WITNESSES UNABLE TO ASSIST HER.

DECEASED RECOVERED FROM LAKE THAT EVENING AT 1930 HOURS. NO SUSPICION OF FOUL PLAY. REFER TO WITNESS STATEMENTS ATTACHED.

Though he didn’t need to, Eddie read the report again, taking in the administrative details.
DROWNING. 18 YEARS OLD. BORN SEPTEMBER 3, 1980. SURVIVED BY MOTHER, FATHER, SISTER.

Ana finished with the first witness statement and slid it across the table to him. It was Michael Hollis’s.

Michael Hollis: Had dated DECEASED for approx. ten months prior to DOL. Was engaged in “game of chicken” with others about crossing the ice on the lake. Says was provoked. Says others teased him and “shamed him” into doing it. MH stepped onto ice and proceeded to cross. Did not go whole way. Heard the ice make noise. Went back to shore. DECEASED then taunted him and attempted to cross ice herself. Was pulled in when ice broke. MH afraid to go out and help her because of size and weight. Others afraid too. DECEASED went under before help could be given.

* * * *

Ana checked the time on her cell as they stepped outside. Her breath fogged in the cold air. She shivered and wished she’d brought her other coat.

“Everybody teased Mike Hollis about his weight after,” she said. “It was all his fault. He’d gone out there and weakened the ice just before Tessa went out. Then, because he was too fat, he was too scared to go out and save his girlfriend. They were horrible to him.”

Eddie followed her to her car as the flurries began.

“Storm’s finally here,” Eddie said.

They got in the car and Ana started the engine. “I can’t believe we were in his living room last night, maybe less than an hour before he died. I’ve never been that close to death before.”

Eddie nodded and seemed to retreat, like he often did, into himself.

“I need to eat something,” she said.

“Where do you want to go?”

She wanted to go home. Cook herself some pasta and curl up on the sofa under a blanket. She wanted him to be there too. And she didn’t want Jimbo around anymore.

Guilt stabbed at her. She knew she had to break up with Jim. It was time. It had been time for awhile. But the moment never seemed right. He was always just coming home from a bad interview, or getting more news about his grandmother’s failing health, or … It was always something.

“You okay?” Eddie asked.

Ana nodded. “I know a good place.”

* * * *

Ana drove on auto-pilot. She knew these roads better than she knew her multiplication tables.

She drove until she could stand the silence no more. She had to ask him.

“I know what you said to Whitmore about ghosts not killing people, but between me and you, do you think Tessa could have killed Colin?”

Eddie took his eyes off the road. “No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It just doesn’t happen, Ana.”

“Then who would do it? Who would drown him?”

“They’re not even sure it was murder.”

“But they don’t know. The whole thing is weird. The timing can’t be coincidence.”

He shook his head. “But that’s just the problem: the timing is most likely a coincidence.”

“How can you say that? I mean, come on.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head. Was quiet for a stretch. “What’s more likely, Ana? That Tessa forced or tricked Colin into going to the creek in his backyard and somehow drowned him? Or that someone living did? Or, that Colin went out there himself, slipped, and lost consciousness when he hit his head?”

“Of course the latter two are more likely.”

“Then that’s more likely the answer. Ockham’s Razor.”

“But you said it yourself: what was he doing out there?”

She turned at Route 55. The flurries grew into a storm. No matter how much she cranked the car’s heater, the cold seeped in and froze her. Her toes were numb.

Eddie faced her. “Look, I don’t want to say this but about Jimbo—”

“If you don’t want to say it, don’t say it.”

She chewed her upper lip and managed to keep from yelling at him. The moment passed, and the pizza parlor appeared ahead. A lonely building, its windows alive with neon lights, sitting on the quiet roadside.

Eddi
e
liked the place immediately. It reminded him of a pizza shop back home. Small, family-run, friendly staff, cheap but good food. Ana ordered a bowl of pasta and Eddie got a personal pie.

“Never say never, but yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s not a ghost.” Eddie grabbed a steaming piece of pizza and took a bite. It was greasy and delicious. He could hear his arteries protesting.

“More likely just an accident,” Eddie said. “It’s a simpler explanation.”

“But you said it. What was he doing out there at two in the morning?”

“He couldn’t sleep. Maybe he always walked around at night. Maybe he heard something. Any one of those things is more likely than a ghost drowning someone.”

Ana sighed. “Ugh, okay, whatever. I don’t want to fight. I’m just trying to talk to you.”

Eddie sat back in the booth, surprised by her anger. “I’m not fighting with you.”

“You’ve got a funny way of not fighting with people. You’ve been weird since last night.”

“Ana, I’m not mad at you, okay?”

Ana put her fork down and looked away for a moment before launching another volley. “I’m not stupid, you know. I got good grades in school and if I had money I could go to a good college. I could do something with my life. I don’t have to spend it in this town, working at a grocery store.”

Eddie held out a palm. “Take it easy.”

But she didn’t. “I’ve seen the way you look at Jim. The way you judge him. You’re judging me when you do that. Don’t you get it?”

Eddie said nothing.

“Who the hell are you to judge, Eddie? You’re an ex-con, drifter who’s stocking shelves in his thirties.”

The only other patron in the parlor sitting a few booths away stopped eating and looked over at them. Ana realized she’d made a scene and shrunk in the booth. Eddie stared the guy down till he went back to minding his business.

Ana picked up her fork and twirled some pasta with it, but she didn’t start eating again.

“Ana, you’re a great woman. I mean it.”

“Oh please. What the hell have I done with my life? Nothing. The most I can say is I didn’t graduate college and I’m too nice to Jim.”

“Listen to me.”

She finally met his eyes.

“I’m nobody. Just a drifter. Thirty-three with no clear future. But you know what, I’ve learned a few things along the way. Things I’m sure you would have figured out on your own, but what if I can help you not make the same mistakes I made? Wouldn’t a little unsolicited advice be worth it?”

“Maybe.”

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

She wiped under her eyes. “I know I have to leave him, goddamnit.”

“Then do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s going through a hard time.”

“He makes his own bed.”

“No, there’s something wrong with him. Like clinical depression or anxiety or something. He’s not like you or me.”

“And what’s he doing to help himself?” Eddie said.

“He can’t help himself. That’s the point. When you have a problem like that, you literally cannot help yourself.”

“Yes, you can.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You can help yourself,” Eddie said. “I know you can because I was there. I’ve been depressed. Shit, I’ve been suicidal. I know what it’s like.”

She looked at him with new eyes. “Was it after Tim died?”

“Yes. But also before. I was in a rut. I didn’t want to admit it was my own fucking fault, but it was. When I did realize, I used that as an excuse to feel sorry for myself. It’s all cyclical.”

“So if that’s what Jim is feeling like right now, how could he possibly get out of it?”

Eddie put his elbows on the table and folded his hands in front of his face. “He needs to change the way he thinks. This is all his own doing. He can either feel sorry for himself, or he can use that to his advantage.”

“How so?”

“If it’s his fault he’s where he is in life, then that means he just needs to make different decisions and he’ll get better, right? If he can make bad decisions and be unhappy, then he can make good decisions and be happy.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is. Once he accepts responsibility for his shitty life, he’ll realize he can also take responsibility for having a good life.”

“You’re simplifying things.”

“You can make a good decision just as easily as you can make a bad one.” Eddie wasn’t sure where all this wonderful advice was coming from. It was like his brain had amassed it all over the years and had been waiting for the opportunity to share the knowledge with someone who needed it.

“And is that how you dealt with it?” A challenge in her voice.

“Not at first, no. It took awhile to see the truth. But once I did, there was no going back.”

“And, what? You’re all better now? Everything is perfect in your life?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Far from it. But things don’t seem as difficult anymore. I feel like I’m figuring it all out. Slowly, but surely.”

“Well good for you.”

“Ana—”

“You’re full of shit, Eddie. You didn’t figure anything out. You’ve just run from your problems all this time.”

Eddie took it on the chin. He had to. She needed an outlet for her anger. If it made things easier for her, he’d be that outlet.

“You’re …” Her voice faded to nothing.

“I’m what?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re … right. I know you’re right.”

“He’s only dragging you down.”

“If I dump him, what would that make me?”

“Smart.”

“A bitch.”

He shook his head. “It’ll be the best thing for him. It’ll be the kick in the ass he needs.”

“Or he’ll just get worse.”

“Maybe. But if things stay the way they are, he will definitely get worse. You’ll coddle him. He’ll grow more complacent and entrenched in your life. It’ll get harder to leave him, the longer you’re with him.”

Ana took a long time answering. “I know.”

“So do it.”

She sighed. “I will.”

“When?”             

“Not right now, not this very second.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

She got up and left the restaurant. Eddie gave her a few minutes and had their food boxed. Then he paid the bill and met her in her car.

“I’
m
sorry,” Eddie said.

She didn’t look at him. Just kept her eyes on the road and drove. “It’s time to go to Bernard’s. I just want to get this fucking night over.”

He regretted what he’d said. She needed to hear it, and hopefully she would take his advice, but now there was a wall between them. And she was the closest thing to a friend he’d had in awhile. More than a friend, if he was honest with himself.

“How far is it?” he asked.

“Fifteen minutes.” She flicked on the radio and blasted the music so they couldn’t talk.

Eddie watched the telephone poles whip by as the snow fell faster and it began to accumulate. Ana eased off the gas and took the curves more carefully as the roads slickened.

Eddie thought about Tim and tried to picture how Tim would have handled news of the murder. His brother wouldn’t have thought a ghost could kill someone, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been as quick to rule it out.

Was Eddie being too dismissive?

The last time he’d jumped to unfounded conclusions, he’d triggered a series of events that had led to Tim’s death. Was he just doing the same thing here?

He played devil’s advocate. As Colin had said, he’d heard noises for years. Perhaps that was the ghost trying to communicate with Colin but not succeeding. Either the message wasn’t getting through or Colin wasn’t really listening. So the ghost had had enough, had figured out a way to drown the man in his own backyard ...

The theory was pretty thin. He’d never seen or heard of a ghost capable of murder. But like they said, there was a first time for everything. He turned the radio down.

He said, “I want to bounce some things off you.”

“As long as it’s not about Jim or about how messed up you think my life is.”

“Ana, for Christ’s sake, I think you’re a great woman. Okay?”

“Oh really?” she said incredulously.

She yanked hard on the steering wheel, startling him, and pulled over. There was no true shoulder, so she went off-road, the tires kicking up mud as they bounced to a juttering stop.

“Ana, what the hell?”

She unclipped her seat belt and faced him. “You think I’m great? You don’t act like it.”

“Ana—”             

“I practically throw myself at you, and you don’t even miss a beat, Eddie. How great am I? How—”

He kissed her.

He grabbed her hair and the gear shift jammed uncomfortably into his hip, but he didn’t care. She kissed him back, just as hard. Her need matched his. Her tiny hands strong, one gripping his shoulder. She was trying to slip his jacket off.

Breathless, he said, “Wait.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Ana—”

“Please …”

“Ana, hold on.”

He pulled his head away from her, but they remained locked in an awkward embrace, him stretched out over both seats, the steering wheel digging into his back.

Eddie said, “I want to, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” She leaned forward to kiss him again, but he moved an inch away.

“I want to, goddamnit. I’ve wanted to ever since I met you. Why the hell else do you think I came to that party two weeks ago? What business do I have hanging out with a bunch of twenty-year-olds?”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re with Jim.”

“Bullshit,” she said. “You don’t owe him.”

“Because I like you too much.”

She put her hand on the back of his head like she was going to pull him closer, but she didn’t. “You hear yourself? You don’t want to because you like me too much? You’ve got it backwards, Eddie.”

“Last thing you need is to go from Jimbo to Eddie McCloskey.”

“That’s my choice.”             

“Mine too.”

“So that’s it then?” Her hand fell off his shoulder and traveled to his chest.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Can’t take it back now.”

“Don’t want to.“

She rubbed his stomach. Any lower and he’d do something incredibly stupid.

“Ana—”

Her hand started reaching, but he grabbed it before it got to his groin.

Ana said, “I’ll break up with him.”

“You should do that regardless of me. Not because of me.”

“Either way, I’ll do it.”

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “Do it, then we’ll talk, okay?”

“Just one more kiss?”

“It’s never just one more.”

“Come on, just one.”

“We’ve gotta get moving.”

They stayed like that for a minute, just looking at each other. She sprawled in his lap. He realized that he needed this just as much, if not more, than she did. All the one-nighters over the last five years had been fun, but they hadn’t done anything for him.

This was a real connection to another human being.

It excited and scared him, and he realized that was a good thing.

“Okay, we’ve really gotta get going.” He still didn’t move.

“Okay.”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

They both started laughing. Eddie couldn’t believe he was giddy, at thirty-three years of age.