Posner can’t help looking down the corridor at the closet and Stern follows his gaze.
“What are you looking for over there? Some kind of help?”
Stern grabs Posner’s bicep in a clenched hand. The grip is strong, and Posner winces as he spins around and is pushed down the hall with Stern’s other hand holding the syringe.
Posner momentarily thinks Stern might be fooling with the threat, but he can’t be sure, and there is no way he can possibly overcome someone as young and athletic as Stern. He allows himself to be steered down the hall. Then he’s jerked to a stop.
“What’s in here?” Stern waves the needle at the hall closet door.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Open it up. Now!”
Posner pulls the door open and then is pushed to the side by Stern’s left hand.
“Let’s see if it’s nothing.”
Stern keeps an eye on Posner while he looks into the closet. He switches the needle to his left hand and begins to sweep across the shelves with the other. He snatches various random items from shelves; a blanket, two pillows, a shelf of medicine and cosmetic bottles are all flung across the parquet.
A helpless Posner watches as the bottles slide into a random scatter. He doesn’t take his eyes off Stern, but waits for the inevitable when Stern finds the gun. The wait takes seconds, yet his fear never materializes. Stern’s free hand stumbles across the box with the Chiefs Special and unknowing its contents sweeps it to the floor. Serendipitously, it lands near Posner’s feet as if it was aimed. Before Stern reacts, Posner bends down, opens the box, hoists the revolver and levels it at Stern.
“Drop the needle now. Now!”
Stern’s eyes widen as his face seems to shrink in to itself like a slow leak in a balloon. His arm drops to his side with the needle pointing straight down. He faces the revolver only feet away, which points straight at his midsection.
Posner holds the gun in his right hand with his left hand supporting the gun wrist. Just like he was taught in his one lesson.
“I said drop it.”
The needle slips to the floor.
“Now kick it away.”
Stern complies and the needle slides to the far wall.
“That’s better. Now let’s talk.”
Posner’s emotions have soared from fear to bravado in less than a minute. The revolver makes him invincible. He sees how a weapon can abolish almost anyone’s insecurity. In seconds he’s thought through what he will do, but in the end he will kill Stern. The man broke into his home, didn’t he? He threatened to kill, didn’t he?
Posner steps back a few steps. His gun hand is steady.
“Let me tell you what happened, since you’re so interested.”
Stern’s breathing returns to normal, and if Posner takes the time to look, he will see the man’s features fill out as before. Stern’s left hand moves a few inches to his side jacket pocket. Posner doesn’t notice the movement or the one that follows where Stern pats his pocket and feels the shape of another syringe beneath the flap. His face contorts into something between a smile and a scowl. Posner doesn’t notice. He wants to speak. To be in control. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way. Since before he lost his job.
“You’re right. She is dead, but I never had sex with her. If I had maybe everything would be back to normal for all of us, but it’s too late. And I didn’t kill her. We met on the bus and she talked her way into coming here to see the house. She was pretty pushy about that. As far as sex is concerned, I think she wanted it, but I wasn’t interested.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
“No. It’s true. It’s not that I wasn’t tempted, but this is a house I share with my wife. I couldn’t do anything. It would have been stupid. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
“So she just left and what? Got run over by a car?”
“That’s close, but not quite right. You’re pretty smart. But then you’re a doctor. She told me a lot about you, you know. But if you were so close, then why did she like to see other men?” Posner’s sense of invincibility grows with each minute he holds the gun. It’s like being God. Able to control life and death. Anything and everything.
Stern looks down. He listens to Posner’s words, but doesn’t fully process the vocabulary. He hears only what he wants to believe.
“I had to run out to get something and left her here. It took longer than I thought, and when I got back she was lying at the bottom of the stairs. She was dead.
“I first thought she slipped and fell down the stairs. The ones you just walked up. She hit her head and died right there. I know how to check a pulse. There wasn’t any. But now I’m not so sure that’s what happened. Maybe you followed her on the bus and watched her get in my car and wind up here. Maybe you waited till I left and then came in and killed her. More and more, I think that’s what really happened.”
Stern doesn’t speak. He just lifts his head and begins to shake it sideways in obvious disbelief. Now he begins to pay more attention to the words. His raw anger returns and his face flushes a bright red. Posner still doesn’t notice.
“I was scared to explain what happened. I wasn’t here when she died. I know it was stupid, but look at the circumstances. A dead woman I never met before in my house. What would the police or my wife think? No. I had to get rid of her body. It’s buried out there where you followed me, only a few yards farther away from the gnarled sand pine. You almost found it. Now I can tell the cops where
“Close the case? Why would they do that? It’ll only be your word against mine.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be dead.”
Posner doesn’t wait for an answer or plea. This is the man who stands in the way of another chance for him and Sara. Sara! He remembers. She could be here any minute. He raises the revolver as Stern puts his hands in front of his body in some surreal misguided attempt at evasion. Posner starts to pull the trigger, but he can’t finish. And again, but it’s not in him to kill. Then Stern is on him. They collapse into a rotating heap on the floor. The initial impact hammers Posner’s skull enough to make him dizzy. They roll into the living room.
The fall jars the revolver loose from Posner’s hand and it skips across the floor to the edge of the stairs. Stern scrambles for the gun while Posner half raises himself on two knees and shakes his head to regain clarity. Stern picks up the gun, looks at it, and stuffs it in his inside jacket pocket. He’s never held a pistol before and doesn’t want to start now. He pulls a needle from another pocket and turns toward Posner but a voice distracts him.
The black Volvo pulls to a stop halfway up the driveway.
“Looks like Amos has a visitor,” Ed Whelan says with a nod to the white Chevy as he puts his car into Park.
“Actually, it looks like the Talbots’ car, but it can’t be. I know they’ve already left for a few months with their kids in Seattle, but I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Have a good weekend,” adds Frances. “And let us know if you’d like a lift back on Sunday. Just call. Oh, and say a big hi to Amos.”
“Will do. And thanks again,” answers Sara as she clutches a small duffel and closes the car door. She watches the Volvo slide back into the street, turn, and disappear down the block. She takes a long look at the white Chevrolet parked in the street then mounts the steps. She pulls out her key then hesitates and twists her head a bit toward the ocean only a half block away. She inhales a cool salty breeze and then another before she turns back to the door. The key turns in the lock and the door swings open.
“It’s me, Amos. I’m home.”
Brigid’s Audi brakes just fast enough to make the left turn onto Napeague Lane. Logistics necessitate that she move slower to check for streets and numbers. It doesn’t take long. In a few minutes she sees the sign for Posner’s street. She starts to make a right, and then stops abruptly as a black Volvo begins a turn out of the same street. A man and woman sit in the front. The man smiles and waves her on. She smiles back. The seconds-long interlude breaks her concentration. The car passes, yet she sits there for several moments. Then she moves forward down the block. There is a blue Lexus parked at the top of Posner’s driveway and a white car in the street
