I just nodded.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in the other guest room?”
“No, I’m fine right here on the couch,” I said. The two guest rooms were at the end of the house. I wanted to be here in the middle, close to the doors, just in case.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “I’m off to bed. Wish me luck.” He gave me a wink and a little salute.
When he was gone, I sat there and finished my brandy, wondering how I had ever gotten there. I’m a private investigator and they’re paying me to sleep on the couch with my gun.
I thought about the phone call, and about the rose that was left on my doorstep. I sat there for a long time hoping it would all make some kind of sense to me, but it didn’t happen.
Finally, Mrs. Fulton came into the room and sat in Edwin’s chair. “Can I get you anything, Alex?”
“No, I’m fine, ma’am.”
“You know, you and I have something in common,” she said. She crossed her legs and looked into the fire.
“What would that be, ma’am?”
“Fear,” she said. “We both know about fear.”
It took a minute to sink in. This woman had enough money to protect her from anything. What could she know about fear?
But then I looked into her eyes. I saw the firelight dancing there. And I saw something else. Something I recognized. “Tell me about it,” I said.
“I don’t share this story with many people, Alex. But I feel like I can tell you, because you know what it feels like. Real fear. The kind of fear that changes you forever.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I do.”
“I was kidnapped when I was sixteen years old. That’s one of the dangers of growing up in a very wealthy family, I suppose. They kept me for several days. At one point, they were going to cut off one of my fingers and send it to my father.”
I didn’t say anything. I looked into the fire with her and listened to her voice.
“There were three men,” she said. “One of the men, he made sure that the others didn’t hurt me. Even when the leader wanted to cut off my finger, this man wouldn’t let him. They fought over me. He told the leader he’d kill him if he even touched me. Even though he was one of the men who helped kidnap me, I think I started to fall in love with him. It’s strange, isn’t it? When you’re that scared, everything else you feel, you feel it so strongly. And the things you hear, the things you see. Even the color of things is more intense. You understand what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You understand because you’ve been there,” she said. “I knew it as soon as I met you, Alex. Or at least when I asked you about that bullet inside you. I could see it then. I could see that we had this in common. That’s why you know what I’m going through now. This whole business with my son. He’s my only child, you know.”
“Mrs. Fulton, everything’s going to be fine. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I think I’ll even be able to sleep tonight.” She wished me a good night and left the room.
I sat there and watched the fire go out. Finally I got up and walked around the place. I looked out the window that faced the driveway, turning off the exterior light so I could see into the darkness. Nothing.
I went outside and walked down the road for about a quarter mile. It was a quiet night, and without the wind it was not nearly as cold as it should have been. I turned around and came back up to the house, walking around to the porch that overlooked the lake. When the clouds parted, a quarter moon cast its faint light onto the immense surface of Lake Superior. The water was calm enough on this night, you could almost picture yourself sailing under that moon.
I went back inside and sat on the couch, taking the gun out of my belt and putting it on the coffee table. There was a wedding picture on the table. I picked it up and looked at the two faces, Sylvia radiant against the whiteness of her veil, Edwin wearing a big, dumb smile. My old man had an expression, “He was smiling like a jackass eating bumblebees.” That’s how Edwin looked on his wedding day standing next to Sylvia. I put the picture back on the table and lay my head back on the couch. Eventually, I slid off into the limbo between awake and asleep.
And then I heard something. I woke up with a start. Where did that noise come from? I sat up and reached for my gun.
It was gone.
Sylvia was standing there, my gun in her hand. She was pointing it right at my chest.
“Sylvia, what the hell-”
“I should kill you,” she said. “I should kill you right now. That would feel good, Alex.” Her robe fell open. In the moonlight I could see her breasts and the soft hairs that disappeared into the shadows between her legs. She made no attempt to cover herself.
“Sylvia…”
She put the gun back down on the coffee table. “Some watchdog you are,” she said as she walked away. She went back up the stairs, leaving me sitting there in the darkness, trying to catch my breath.
“Goddamn you,” I said softly. “You stupid crazy bitch.”
I got up and walked around the place again, looking out the windows again. I walked down to the end of the house where the guest rooms were, put my ear against Mrs. Fulton’s door. I could hear the rhythm of her breathing as she slept.
I lay back down on the couch, thinking I would never sleep again in my whole life. But eventually I dozed off again. I couldn’t help it. After the last two nights of blood and late-night phone calls, I was beyond exhausted. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with another phone call tonight, I thought as I finally gave myself over to sleep.
I saw the blood. It was Mrs. Fulton’s dream. I was floating above it. It was stretched out as far as I could see in every direction.
And then I saw the car, moving smoothly and silently through the pine trees. Its lights were out. I could not see the driver.
And then the phone rang.
I jumped off the couch and fell over the coffee table. I didn’t know where I was. The phone, where’s the phone? It rang again. I remembered where I was. I picked up the gun and went upstairs. The phone rang for the third time.
“Alex, are you there?” It was Edwin, from inside the master bedroom. The phone rang for the fourth time.
“Yes!” I knocked on their door and then opened it. Edwin had turned on the light next to the bed. Sylvia sat up next to him, blinking. The phone rang for the fifth time.
“Should I answer the phone?”
“Let me,” I said. I went around to his side of the bed and knelt on the floor. The phone rang for the sixth time.
I picked up the receiver. There was silence on the other end until I finally heard a man’s voice. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Who is this?” I said.
“Who is this! Is Edwin Fulton there?” It wasn’t the voice I was expecting. It was someone else, someone I knew.
“This is Alex McKnight. Who is this?”
“McKnight! What are you doing there? This is Chief Maven!”
“Chief Maven,” I said. Edwin looked at me with surprise.
“Goddamn it, McKnight, what are you, the Fultons’ butler now?”
“Why are you calling?” I asked. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “What is it, like three o’clock, I think? Three-thirty? I was calling Mr. Fulton to see if he knew where you were. I was so disappointed, McKnight. You weren’t at the crime scene waiting for me this time.”
“Maven, what the hell is going on?”
